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majormemorabilia · 11 months
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Best Place to Buy Pokemon card
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When you think about trading card games it’s likely the image of a Pokémon will appear in your mind. Pokémon is arguably the most recognizable trading card game, and it’s wildly popular all over the world. It brings together the enjoyment of card collecting with the fun of actually playing a challenging game against other people.
We stock genuine Pokémon card products, including Pokémon Booster Boxes & Elite Trainer Boxes. Build your best deck and take your Pokémon game to the next level.
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6-2-aestheticsofhate · 6 months
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One time a friend made a comment abt how he had to explain I was Canadian to someone irl who liked hockey and how it felt and I was like. Okay yeah I guess we're associated with hockey but that's- (realizes I go to a coffee shop named after a famous hockey player and it sells NHL hockey cards at some parts of the year and it's the most popular coffee shop in Canada) oh.
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sydmarch · 2 years
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still SO mad that this girl tried to take advantage of our goodwill last night when we were making our way through the line to security some girl came up behind me and grabbed my hand super tight & started chatting and seemed nervous so I'm like oh I've had this happen before there's gotta be some creep. so I asked her is some guy bothering you & she's like yeah so we're like ok come in with us & these two guys right behind us keep taking to her & I kinda whisper is that them after they pass us bcus I figured it must be those two since they kept asking her questions and shit & then she's like no so I'm like wait wtf then who is it but before I can ask anything else security spots her & they start yelling like "you, absolutely not, get over here!" so she leaves & that's when we realize she'd clearly gotten caught trying to smuggle something in & was hoping to join us & get in without being noticed. like #girl come on don't pretend you're being sexually harassed just because your stupid ass sucks at hiding your drugs
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ppcseo · 3 months
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#ebay #baseballcards #1990topps #collectibles #rookiecards #tradingcards #sportsmemorabilia #halloffame #cardmarketplace #vintagecards
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ur-mag · 7 months
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Box of iconic trading cards sells for £10,000… if you were a 90s kid you could have treasure hiding in your attic | In Trend Today
Box of iconic trading cards sells for £10,000… if you were a 90s kid you could have treasure hiding in your attic Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS
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roosterforme · 7 months
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How You Play the Game Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley wins a box seat ticket for the first game of the World Series final, he doesn't think his day could get any better. But when he's given a seat in the press box by mistake, he meets a gorgeous sports writer from New York. And he has one of the best nights of his life.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and smut (18+)
Length: 6300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bradley was half asleep, sipping on his coffee while he drove to North Island from his house in the soft pre dawn light. He really hated these early training days that started at six o'clock and didn't end until after dinnertime. He'd be in the air all day, and then he'd probably be too tired to stay awake to watch game one of the World Series. 
Everyone on base was excited that the Padres were playing the Angels. A Southern California showdown for the ages. Tickets to game one in San Diego were selling for almost a thousand dollars per seat, but the sports radio host Bradley was listening to was giving them away.
Bradley yawned as the host asked, "Who was the first major league baseball player to pitch a ball over 100 miles per hour?"
"That's easy," Bradley mumbled. "Nolan Ryan." And then he realized that it was 5:30 in the morning and perhaps nobody else who was listening knew that fact. "Huh," he grunted, reaching for his phone at a red light. He dialed the number and was shocked when he got through to the host. 
"Good morning, caller! What's your name? Where are you from?"
"I'm Bradley. From Coronado."
"Do you have an answer for me, Bradley? Which major league player was the first to pitch over 100 miles per hour?"
"That would be Nolan Ryan."
"You sound confident in your baseball knowledge," the host replied. "Double or nothing? I'll upgrade your ticket to a seat in a box suite if you can tell me which team Ryan was pitching against."
Bradley smiled to himself as he pictured the boxes of his dad's old baseball cards that he still had in his garage. "He was pitching against the Chicago White Sox."
And just like that, Bradley was the proud owner of a suite ticket for game one of the World Series at Petco Park later that night. 
---------------------------
Your flight from New York to San Diego had been delayed so many times, you were a little surprised you managed to get to your hotel in your rental car and then make it to the game on time. At least you'd been able to start writing your article on the flight. Unless the game went into extra innings, you should be able to finish by your midnight deadline. Because if there was one thing the New York Times didn't mess around with, it was the hard cutoff for your submissions. 
As you made your way to the media entrance at Petco Park, you pulled out your lanyard with your credentials and looped it around your neck. As soon as someone learned that you were a sports writer for the most prestigious newspaper in the country, they were either impressed or they did a double take. You were a freshly thirty year old female with a ten year career in sports journalism, and you didn't take shit from any guys about it. 
In fact, you loved it when men tried to one up you. Because they never could. You knew more than they did about sports, you were an amazing writer, and you found pleasure in shutting them down. Preferably in front of their friends. And then they would inevitably try to ask you out. And you would shut that down, too. It was a game that you were very good at now. 
As you were scanned into the ballpark by a security officer, you quickly made your way up to your assigned press box. You expected the heavy hitters to be there. And of course you'd be the youngest, and probably one of just a few women in attendance. As you climbed the narrow stairs and swiped your badge one last time, you opened the door and strolled past a table filled with food and drinks. And then you saw them: Carl from ESPN, Jack from The Chicago Tribune, Harold from the Los Angeles Times, and Quincy from the Philadelphia Inquirer. You would keep your guard up, because it was just a matter of time before one of them made some sort of comment about your ability to do your job. 
The room was already filling up as you claimed a spot on one of the narrow counters where you could set up your computer and get to work. You removed your lanyard and tossed it next to your stuff, and then you waved to Raya from MSN Sports, the only other female in the room. When you turned to grab a drink and some food, you noticed the flash of a handsome face and a mustache. And then you stifled a scream as you saw and felt a plastic cup of cold beer meet your chest before soaking the front of you completely. 
"Oh, fuck!" came the deep, raspy voice of the most handsome man you could remember seeing in recent history as he stared at your chest. You supposed it was a fair trade, because you couldn't look away from his face no matter what you did. He was hot; all tan skin, brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. And the blush that crept in and colored his cheeks made him look boyish as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry!"
When he swallowed hard, and his eyes drifted down to your chest again, you looked down as well. Great. Your light blue lace bra was plainly visible through your white blouse, and the beer was even dripping onto your jeans and your new, white Chucks. 
You just shook your head and shrugged. "It's okay. Shit happens. But why did you bring a beer in here?" you asked. But he still looked so embarrassed and flustered, you decided to mess with him. "Who do you write for? I'll send them my laundry bill."
"Write?" he asked, and yep, that was confirmation that he had the sexiest voice you had ever heard. 
"Yeah," you said, feeling a little flustered yourself as you reached for some napkins to dab your shirt dry. "Tampa Bay Times? Boston Globe? Oh Lord, don't tell me you're from Barstool Sports. I don't recognize you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you." That was a lie; you would definitely have remembered him.
"No," he said, watching your every move. "I don't write."
You laughed as his gaze flicked up from your chest to your eyes when you looked up at him. "That explains the alcohol, then. But why are you in the press box? Did you get lost up here?"
He smirked at that. "No. I won a radio contest and got a seat in a box suite. But somehow my ticket got mixed up, and they sent me a media pass instead."
"Really?" you asked, eyeing him up and down now. "I had to pay for a four year journalism degree for my media pass, and you're going to tell me I could have just listened to the radio?"
His laugh was infectious and his smile made you a little giddy as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bradley. I don't think I could manage to write an article about sports, even if I was getting paid to do it. You must be very talented." You preened a bit at his words as you shook his hand. "And I'm really sorry about the beer," he added, gesturing to your shirt. "I'd offer to get you a drink or dinner, but the food in here is free, and you're actually working. So, I'll just stand here like an idiot and keep shaking your hand and apologizing until you tell me your name and tell me to stop. I'm really sorry about your shirt." He was still shaking your hand, and now you couldn't stop smiling.
You told him your first name and then you said, "You can stop shaking my hand now, Bradley." 
"Let me grab you some water?" he asked, and when you nodded, he turned toward the bar in the far corner. And you took in his tall frame, broad shoulders and massive biceps which were highlighted by his Padres shirt. 
"Oh no," you whispered to yourself, still mindlessly dabbing your wet blouse with some napkins.
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Bradley turned toward you with two water bottles, and thankfully this time he managed to keep the drinks in his hands. You were so fucking cute, and your wet shirt was doing crazy things to him. He couldn't stop smiling, and when you looked up at him and cautiously accepted your drink, you were smiling too. 
"Thanks for not drenching me again," you said, tapping your drink to his. And then Bradley heard an older guy call your name, and you turned in his direction. 
"Nice shirt," he shouted so everyone was suddenly looking your way. "That how you plan on getting an exclusive with one of the players? Sex sells now? I thought this was about the game."
Bradley was appalled that another journalist was talking to you like that, but before he could say that your wet shirt was actually his fault, you were shouting back at the guy.
"Harold, you couldn't even drag your sorry, old ass down to the field fast enough to get an exclusive with the mascot. I don't know how you're not retired or dead yet. Didn't you cover the 1922 World Series?"
Bradley watched Harold purse his lips at you before he turned away and took a seat. And when Bradley glanced down at you as you sipped your water, you looked completely unfazed. And he was ridiculously turned on.
"Damn, nobody should be messing with you," he said, thoroughly impressed. "You're an Ace."
You just rolled your eyes, but you looked very pleased by his words. He already knew he wanted to talk to you all night, but now you were setting your drink down next to your computer and opening it as you sat. "This is a boys club. Just a dick measuring contest. I can't let up for a second or I'll get steamrolled."
Bradley let his eyes dip down to your damp shirt as he asked, "I don't want to commit another beer related crime. You seem to know how this press box stuff works. Mind if I sit with you?"
"Not at all," you told him as you licked your lips. "As long as you don't spill anything else on me."
Bradley eased himself down on the stool next to yours, and his knee brushed your thigh. He watched you filling out a baseball stat sheet while you opened up a document on your computer. 
"So what was the trivia question?" you asked as you sipped your water again.
"Trivia question?" he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the rim of the bottle before you took a drink. 
"Yeah, isn't that how you won the pass? For the box seat? Even though you're slumming it with the journalists now?"
"I wouldn't call this slumming it," he said, eyeing your pretty face. "But yeah, they asked who was the first pitcher to throw a ball over 100 miles per hour."
"Oh. Nolan Ryan. Angels versus the White Sox. Nice," you said as you smiled at him. Fuck. You liked sports. You wrote about sports. You were gorgeous, and you knew more about sports than he did. Bradley let his mind drift to peeling off your damp, white shirt and licking the taste of beer off your chest while you moaned baseball stats and ran your fingers through his hair. He could definitely get into that. He briefly wondered if you were going to be at the next game here on Sunday.
And then you were keeping the game stats in your notebook at the same time you typed up notes, and Bradley realized he had missed the first few pitches. "Oof, that was a sloppy curveball," you muttered as you peered down at the field before checking the overhead screen. "He's supposed to be their Ace."
"Nah, you're the Ace," Bradley said, and you turned to grin at him as your fingers brushed against his. There was not a lot of room at this little countertop, and when you tried to nudge his arm out of the way, he wrapped it around the back of your stool. 
"How am I supposed to keep my stats with you taking up so much space?" you asked, but your tone sounded playful, and you leaned a little closer to him. "You're massive."
Those words spoken in your voice had his cock stirring. "Yeah well, not a lot I can do about that, Ace."
That grin was back as you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips, and his gaze followed the motion. "So what do you do, Bradley? I'm going to guess you're not a waiter since you can't walk without spilling drinks. And you're definitely not a writer."
"I'm a pilot. A naval aviator," he told you softly, running his thumb along your back and watching you bite your lip. 
"Fascinating," you told him before returning your attention back to the game and scribbling down the pitch count. And that's when Bradley's gaze landed on your badge which was sitting next to your computer. 
He recognized your full name immediately. "Holy shit. You write for the New York Times."
"Yeah," you replied, turning to look at him before pulling your lip between your teeth again.
"Ace. I recognize your name. You're the best sports writer in the country."
Bradley was blushing, he knew he must be, but your bright smile was focused on him, and he couldn't keep his fingertips from drawing lazy shapes along your back where his hand rested. 
"You know me?"
He nodded and raised an eyebrow at you. "You're famous. I read your articles all the time. I downloaded the New Your Times app solely for you."
When you laughed and gently bit the eraser end of your pencil, Bradley groaned. "You're funny," you told him.
"You're gorgeous." The words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. He thought about apologizing, but then you leaned in a little closer and ran your pencil eraser up his thigh along his jeans.
"Stop distracting me," you whispered, kissing his cheek before returning your attention to your computer. Your lips had brushed the end of his mustache, and he could still feel the soft sensation there as you gazed at him from the corner of your eyes. This was going to be a long night for Bradley.
--------------------------
Bradley had called you gorgeous. He was playful, and he kept a smile on your lips. When he made a comment about the Angels' catcher, you told him, "You're completely right. I'm adding that to my piece." And he blushed that deep shade of pink again. 
"Damn, Ace. I'll be thinking about your voice when I read your article tomorrow morning." 
"Mm," you hummed, marking down another strikeout. "It would be fun to read it to you. I think you'd blush. The whole time." 
His lips were parted, and he looked a little surprised. "It would be the filthiest of dirty talk," he muttered, and when you giggled, he grinned. 
You had to bite your lip against the desire to kiss his cheek again. "World Series articles and pitching stats? That's what's gonna do it for you, Bradley?"
"Shit, how dirty can you make those pitching stats?" he whispered, thumb still skimming along the back of your shirt.
"You'd be surprised," you told him, shooting him an innocent look as he nodded at you.
"I'm sure I would."
The more you scribbled down in your notebook as the game progressed, the closer Bradley got to you. His big palm was warm on your back and you found yourself leaning into him more and more. By the eighth inning, his leg was pressed up against yours and he just kept getting closer. 
"Ace, you're killing me," he murmured, taking your pencil and erasing the sloppy note you had written about the Padres relief pitcher. "Let me help."
You laughed as he rewrote your note very neatly followed by what you assumed was his phone number. Oh, he was a bold one. Very handsome, very funny and very bold. 
Without a word, he handed your pencil back to you. "What am I supposed to do with that?" you asked, tapping his phone number with the pencil.
His breath was warm on your cheek as he said, "Save it in your phone. Call it. Text it. Let it know when you're in San Diego. I don't know, Ace. I just like you."
Your lips parted right as the Padres catcher hit a home run, and as everyone else in the ballpark erupted in cheers or groans, Bradley pressed his lips softly to yours. And then you tossed your pencil aside and ran your hand up along his neck. His lips were soft, but damn, his mustache was rough and you liked it. 
You pulled back a few inches. "And if I text you, you're going to write back?" you asked. 
"Immediately," he promised. 
"Well then maybe I'll save your number."
He groaned softly as you marked down the home run. "Are you covering game two on Sunday?" he asked as the ninth inning started.
"I'm covering every game," you told him, letting your hand rest on his thigh. The soft noise he made had you scraping your fingernails softly along his jeans as he watched your hand instead of the game. "I'll be back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles for the next two weeks or so, if they go to seven games. Which, in my professional opinion, they will." 
After your fingers grazed his zipper, you watched his head tip back, the veins in his neck working as he swallowed. You were pretty turned on now, too. And the way he was responding to you was making things worse by the minute. 
"I'm gonna have to drop a grand on a ticket to see you back here on Sunday, aren't I?" he asked as you shrugged and ran your finger along his belt loop. Then you released him and turned back to type a few sentences for your article. 
"Listen," you told him without looking at him. "There's no guarantee I'm even going to let you have my number, so I wouldn't worry about that just yet."
He was quiet for a beat as you typed away, and then he said, "How about you let me buy you a drink for real? Right after the game tonight?"
"I have a deadline to meet," you told him, and he looked disappointed as he nodded. "But my article is almost done. And my hotel is right across the street. We could go to the bar there?"
"Absolutely," he murmured, his fingers still at your back. "Anywhere you want."
As soon as the game ended with a Padres victory, you tossed your computer and notebook into your bag, and you were on your feet next to Bradley. "Let's get out of here." 
You took his big hand in yours, glancing up at him occasionally as you tried to beat most of the crowd to the exit. And each time, he was looking back at you, smiling. You led him across the parking lot, and your hotel was in sight when you pushed him up against the brick wall outside of the ballpark. Bradley welcomed your body against his, and he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was happening just before you kissed him.
It was dark over here, even the streetlights were dim. His hands were on your back as your fingers tangled in his hair, and you were rubbing yourself gently against him. 
"Ace," he grunted against your lips. "You gotta let me buy you that drink." 
You could feel him growing harder for you as you kissed him and tasted his tongue. Suddenly the hotel bar was the farthest thing from your mind. It had been replaced by thoughts of your hotel room bed instead. 
"Come on, Bradley," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and leading him further down the sidewalk. He went with you willingly, leaning down to kiss your cheek and your neck as you waited in a crowd of people for the light to change at the crosswalk. 
"You smell good. Like the beer I spilled on you," he groaned, holding you close. The movement of his lips had his mustache prickling your neck. You wanted to feel it on all your sensitive skin. You wanted to see if you could make him blush in bed. 
You and he stumbled across the street and into the hotel lobby where you eyed the bar as he wrapped his big hand around your waist. You looked up at him and asked, "Wanna skip the bar and go up to my room? Find out if I taste good like the beer, too?" 
The sound of Bradley's groan as his hand slid down to your butt had you pressing yourself against his thigh. "Lead the way, Ace."
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The elevator ride to the top floor was filled with the sound of kissing as well as the little gasping noises you made. Your hands were at the fly of his jeans as he pushed you back against the wall and devoured your mouth. Bradley was so hard and ready for you, he was honestly surprised. He just met you. This was not a usual occurrence for him. 
"Bradley," you moaned, unbuttoning his jeans as the elevator jolted to a stop. You abandoned his jeans for his hand and pulled him down the hallway, running toward your room and laughing. You stopped in front of one of the doors and started to dig in your bag.
He stood behind you and ran his lips along your neck as you gasped for him. You were so responsive, stroking something deep down inside of Bradley every time you reacted to him. He wrapped his hands around to the front of your jeans and started to play with your button as well. When his fingers met the soft skin of your belly, your head tipped back against him. 
"I can't find my room key," you moaned as he ran his hands up inside your shirt. He watched as you gripped the bag with both hands and let your eyes drift closed. 
"You're not really trying very hard, Baby," he said with a smirk. He couldn't believe you right now. So pretty and so lost to his touch. He was throbbing and aching for you, too. 
"Because you're teasing me!" you complained with a laugh. But then you turned in his arms, and suddenly Bradley's hands were on your bare back. Your eyes were wide, bag clutched between your body and his. "This is... not something that I usually do. Especially not when I'm on the job." Your voice was soft, and as you nervously bit your lip, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.
"Same, Ace," he promised with a smirk. "In fact, I've never had a woman seduce me this quickly before. You're irresistible."
Your laughter was the best thing he had ever heard. "I thought I was the one being seduced here?"
"No," he said, reaching into your bag and plucking out the key. "You're in charge." He handed it to you, and you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him hard before you turned and unlocked the door with your other hand. You pulled Bradley with you as you stumbled backwards into the dark room. 
As you searched blindly for the light switch, you pushed Bradley against the wall. You had your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and your tongue was in his mouth as you located the switch.
"That's better," you mumbled breathlessly as you turned on the light, and Bradley pulled away from you a few inches. 
"You're fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he tightened his right arm around your waist. He wasn't being shy about how hard he was for you, and you weren't being shy either. You whimpered as you rubbed yourself gently against him, and he ran his thumb along your cheek and down to your lips. "I haven't been this turned on in so long."
Then Bradley watched you reach down and pull off your white shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you in that sinful looking blue bra before him. You were stroking him through his jeans with your right hand when you whispered, "I thought you were going to taste me, Bradley." Your eyes were wide and innocent looking as you challenged him. 
He nodded slowly. "I wanna taste you everywhere." Then he scooped you up as you laughed, and he carried you to the king sized bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You gonna let me do that?"
"Yes," you whispered right next to his ear, and Bradley eased you down onto the bed with his body weight on top of you. As you started tugging on his Padres shirt, he managed to remove his shoes before reaching down both of your calves and yanking yours off. He tossed them blindly behind himself, wincing as he hit the wall with both of them. 
But you just laughed and pulled his tee shirt up, leaving him in his white tank. You were holding his shirt in your hand as he pressed his lips to yours. "You taste so good here," he whispered, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you wrapped your leg around his hip. Then he kissed your chest before licking a stripe across the top of your lace bra as you bucked your core against him. "Fuck," he groaned. He licked and sucked on the top of your right tit. "Your skin tastes like that spilled beer. I love it on you."
"Well then, you better clean me up with your tongue, since it's your fault in the first place." You tipped your head back, and arched your back off the bed, and Bradley followed your lead, letting his big hands find the clasp of your bra. You moaned softly as he unhooked it and moved his fingers around to ease the fabric away from your body.
"God damn," he groaned before taking your nipple between his lips. Your fingers were tight in his hair as he sucked on you, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your other breast.
"Bradley!" you cried out when he rubbed his mustache across your nipple. He was dying to fuck you, but you were letting him tease the hell out of you, and he was loving this.
"You like that?" he asked, enjoying all the cues you were giving him. He couldn't stop grinning as you whimpered a soft little yes before pulling his undershirt off. 
When you ran your fingers through his chest hair and down his abs, Bradley swallowed hard. Because you didn't stop there. You reached right for his unbuttoned jeans and eased his zipper down. He held himself over you, looking down into your needy eyes as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his underwear before delving inside. You licked your pouty lips before you wrapped your hand around his cock, and then you closed the distance up to his lips with the softest, sweetest kiss. You stroked him slowly while barely brushing your lips against his, and it was driving him absolutely insane.
"Ace," he grunted, and you squeezed your hand around his cock and giggled while he moaned for you. Then you gasped and let go of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately pulling himself away from you while he panted.
Your eyes looked concerned, so he put a little more distance between your bodies. "I don't have any condoms," you whispered as you eased your hand away from him.
Bradley pressed his lips to your forehead. "I think I have one in my wallet. It's new."
"Oh," you gasped. "Should have known," you told him. "You're pretty gorgeous, too."
Bradley wanted to ease your mind, let you know that he didn't hook up with a lot of women anymore. He wanted to tell you that the condom was there for just a special occasion like this one. He wanted to explain to you that the last few he'd had in his wallet had been sacrificed to Jake when he'd been in a pinch at the bar.
But you were easing him onto his back, and he supposed it probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It wasn't like you were going to want more from him than just tonight. Besides, he hadn't had anything that wasn't casual in a very long time. 
You were on top of him now, straddling his waist in your unbuttoned jeans, and you were reaching for both of his hands. And when you had your fingers laced with his and pinned his hands over his head, Bradley closed his eyes and enjoyed your touch. Your lips were soft on his face and your thumbs were stroking along his palms in a way that was not only turning him on more, but also providing him with some comfort. 
When you whispered his name, he opened his eyes and he felt surprised by the realization that he only met you tonight. 
"Maybe you should get that condom ready?" you asked softly, rolling your hips against Bradley's torso.
"Yeah," he grunted. And then you were easing down his body, taking his jeans and underwear with you. Bradley propped himself up on one elbow as his cock sprang free. You made eye contact with him, lips parted on a soft whimper. 
"Bradley," you sighed, tugging his jeans, underwear and socks completely off. 
Before you tossed everything aside, he mumbled, "Grab my wallet, Baby." Your eyes met his with so much need before you focused on taking the leather out of the pocket of his jeans, it had him reaching for you. 
You shoved it into his hand before you scrambled back up his body and brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing his lips like he was every goddamn thing you wanted.
Bradley removed the condom and tossed his wallet onto the floor. Then he had you underneath him again. You still smelled like the spilled beer as he kissed his way along your chest, and you were trying to wriggle out of your jeans. "I can take care of that," he whispered, pressing the condom into your hand. Then he had every scrap of fabric removed from your body, and he didn't know if he could handle how perfect you really were. "Ace," he groaned when you eased your feet up his biceps and let your ankles rest on his shoulders. 
Bradley's lips found the inside of your right thigh as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes were half lidded, and you had one hand in his hair and one on your tits. How was he going to recover from this?
"Let me taste you," he begged, and when you nodded, his lips were on your pussy immediately. He groaned, already addicted to the way you tasted here too. He kissed along your slit and buried his nose against your clit.
"Oh!" you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and spreading your legs wider for him. Bradley's cock was throbbing against the bedding as he slid his tongue up through your soaking wet pussy until his lips were wrapped around your clit.
"Yesss," you hissed, gently riding his face as you whispered his name. And with each stroke of his tongue, you got a little louder, your fingers pulled his hair a little more. Oh, he was so fucking turned on for you, he wasn't sure he'd last more than a minute once he had that condom on.
"Bradley!" you gasped, pressing your heel into his back while he sucked on your clit. "Put the condom on."
It took him a little bit to get his lips away from your pussy, because he really wanted to get you off with his mouth. But then he rationalized that you wanted him to get you off with his dick instead, and that sounded perfect, too.
"Okay," he panted, brushing his wet mustache against your belly as you opened the condom for him. He rolled it on and kissed your lips as he pressed himself to your core. Now you were holding him in place by his hair as you returned his kisses, softly moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip into you. You felt warm and tight and perfect, and as you took every inch of him, he stroked his thumb along your cheek.
"Oh god," you whimpered, frantically kissing him and licking his mustache. Your voice was coming in little gasps, and he loved the sound of it.
Bradley withdrew and thrust back inside you, and you rolled your hips with his. "You gotta tell me what you like, Ace. I want to make you feel good."
He watched your eyes go a little wider before you reached for his hand. When you took his index and middle fingers between your lips and started sucking on him while he fucked you, he groaned. "Baby. God that feels fucking great. But don't make me cum yet."
With a soft whimper, you swirled your tongue along his fingers before popping them out of your mouth and guiding his hand down between your bodies to your clit. Bradley had to suck in a deep breath and think about one of his superior officers leading a boring lecture to keep himself in check. He never felt close to the edge this fast, but as he ran his wet fingers along your clit and fucked you into the bed, he knew he could cum if he let himself. 
"Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his face against your neck. "Harder."
He bit his lip and fucked you harder while you whined his name, and he kept his fingers on your clit, trying to work you up. He needed to get you off. He absolutely needed to do this. Because he was hoping you'd call him or text him. He wanted you to save his number and use it. He was already dying for more. 
"Ace," he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck as your fingers drifted down his shoulders to his back. 
You moaned, "I like it when you call me that," so Bradley pressed the nickname against your lips with his until you were gasping and clenching around him. When you came for him, you took his fingers from your clit and laced your hand with his as his movements grew more erratic. 
He was saying something as he came inside you, but he wasn't exactly sure what. And you were looking up at him with a soft, fucked out smile and pushing his hair away from his forehead with your warm hand. And then you let him collapse on top of you while he was still buried inside you, and you ran your fingers back through his hair. 
Bradley settled his cheek against your chest and let himself enjoy the feel of your breathing evening out after your orgasm. You were still making soft sounds as you rubbed your calf along his leg. He could have stayed just like this all night. You felt that good. 
Just as he looked up at you, about to ask if there was any way you'd want to see him again this weekend, you laughed softly. 
"Wow. That was fun."
Fun. He wanted to be more than a fun time. "And good, I hope?" he asked softly. 
"More than good," you whispered, laughing again. "Amazing." 
Bradley smiled at you, and he knew he was blushing. "Yeah. Amazing is the right word for it."
And you were smiling so much, Bradley laughed as you tried to hide behind your hand. He leaned in and kissed your wrist. "Ace, I-"
Bradley jerked away from you as an alarm went off somewhere in the room. When you sat up, he gently eased himself out of you with a grunt.
"That's my thirty minute warning," you told him, scrambling out of bed. "I need to finish my article and submit it."
"Oh," he said, watching you bend to locate your phone. "Right."
You looked at him and licked your lips nervously as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. And then you bent to start retrieving your clothing, and Bradley's heart sank as he stood as well. Wordlessly, he went into the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash his hands, and when he came back out, you were dressed in your underwear and the white shirt he had messed up.
"I guess," he whispered, pulling on his own underwear, "I should go then."
You pressed your lips together and nodded slightly. "I guess so."
"Okay," he said, quickly getting himself dressed in everything except his Padres tee. He just held that while he looked at you. "You have my number."
"I do," you whispered. 
"You can use it," he told you with a smile, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. And then your lips were on his. And then your fingers were in his hair again. 
You moaned and then pulled away from him, and Bradley forced himself to walk backwards to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off you. 
"Bye, Bradley."
He didn't want to say goodbye to you, so he said, "See ya, Ace," and then he was out in the hallway with the door closing behind him.
-----------------------------------
Oh, Bradley! I love Ace, and I hope you do, too! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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youtubelia · 2 years
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15 Best Places To Sell Sports Cards in 2022
15 Best Places To Sell Sports Cards in 2022
Sports cards are an exciting way to recognize the best athletes from your favorite league or team. Many people collect trading cards as a hobby, and you might have the next addition to their collection. Whether you’re a long-term collector or want to flip cards, now is a great time to sell some of your portfolio. However, finding the right place to sell your cards may seem overwhelming. There are…
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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months
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Cooking Up Speculations
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Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader
Summary: With y/n rushing around to doll herself up for an event, it's only a matter of time before things get out of hand.
Word Count: 6.7k
Notes: I have never written something like this before, and I thought I would give it a shot. I haven't checked the grammar, but if Google Docs missed anything, that's none of my business.
warning: alcohol and mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close.
__
The prep work was close to done and for once in The Bear’s short existence it was not a screaming disastrous mess. Everyone was on track and prepared, the sauces were sitting in the fridge, the cakes were waiting to be sliced, the rolls were warm and ready to be cut open and it was all thanks to (y/n) coming in extra early this morning. She had started the prep work for most of the chefs that had yet to arrive in the effort of softening the blow. She would be abandoning them for the dinner rush on what was predicted to be a very busy day.
What sport was being played? Who is playing? And who won were all unknown to y/n but all she knew was that the restaurant was going to be filled with rowdy and obnoxiously drunk men who were going to make everyone’s life miserable and she was going to get a “get out of jail free card”. She felt a small pang of guilt for basically leaving them for dead but sacrifices had to be made and if she could cover anyone’s shift with little to no notice she was allowed one day to herself.
The restaurant was expecting the dinner rush to crawl in at about 6:30 pm which left y/n about an hour and a half to get ready. Y/n was finishing up cutting up some garnishes so that everything would be perfect. The sounds of a spoon slapping skin was approaching and y/n knew that she needed to state her case convincingly so she could leave early. Fighting the urge to not bring anything up, work through her shift and miss her event was deviously tempting but with a deep inhale she put the knife down and turned on the balls of her feet.
Her (e/c) eyes meet his and before she could choke out a lame excuse as to why she was blocking him she spit out, “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”
Carmen looked expectantly, he thought she was going to ask him to taste test the braised beef she had just finished prepping, or ask an obscure question about the food science between ingredients. Y/n had once asked if he found it annoying during one of their late night clean up sessions and he said it was a nice change of pace and he really didn’t mind. How could he when you were so eager to learn?
Y/n didn’t want to do this out here, people are working and if she was going to beg, which is how she expected the next 5 minutes to go, she didn’t want any witnesses. The damage that would do to her pride would force her to change her name, move to Vegas and make money by selling timeshares to idiot tourists.
She cleared her throat, “Privately, chef”
Although his face didn’t betray anything, y/n knew that she had caught him off guard. After a while of spending most of their time together cleaning the kitchen after hours and talking about every minute detail in their lives, y/n knew that she had raised a few alarm bells in Carmen’s head. If she paid attention she could hear the sounds of a car alarm blaring in the back of his head signifying that he thought something was wrong. He always assumed the worst possible would happen, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He wordlessly guided y/n to his office. The door was closed and it felt like they were transported to a different dimension where there was nothing outside but the vacuum of space, it was just the two of them in this room and if one of them were to leave the outside pressure would make their body implode and smash into the size of a ping pong ball. She really didn’t want any of them to leave.
With a silent inhale, “I have to leave early today.”
Carmen softened the crease in between his eyebrows, “ Yeah sure, take the day off.” The imaginary crisis was averted and the car alarm stopped blaring in Carmen’s head.
Y/n was surprised that he was being so easy today. Y/n had yet to ask for a day off but she had spent last night imagining the worst possible scenarios possible, she would get yelled at, rejected, or worst he would guilt her for leaving them to deal with the upcoming shit storm.
“Honestly, I was expecting a bit more of a fight.” Y/n joked, “I even made this whole pitch to convince you.”
“ I can hear the pitch so that it doesn’t go to waste,” Carmen said with a glint of humour in his eyes.
Carmen was giving her an inch and so she might as well take the whole mile. Knowing she was about to push her luck and Carmen’s patience a bit more she continued.
“I came in at 4am and started everyone’s prep and helped Tina with the sandwiches during lunch, and did all of Syd’s prep because she had that doctor’s appointment. And I think it's cruel and unusual that you wouldn’t give me a day off when all I did today was prove how much of an angel I am. The least I can get is a measly day off…What you're not gonna give me a day off you selfish prick? You see this is what always happens, little guys always get pushed aside by the Big man. Carmen you're supposed to be better than those billionaire pricks who probably hunt their interns for sport. And I think it's so unfair that I grace you and this business with my presence and I don't even get a single day off- ” Carmen let out an exhale from his nose and covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk. The move had almost made y/n fall to her knees, the way his hair was tousled, the way he looked up at her with his sharp blue eyes, the tattoo flexing on his hands that were a calloused and dry from years of washing them nearly a hundred times a day, the veins trailing up from his hands to under his white shirt.
“Okay, I get gist.”
Y/n knew he didn’t ask for an explanation but she wanted to keep him here for just a bit longer.
“I have this thing I have to go to and I live too far away to go home and change so I need your office to get ready. I would get changed and stuff in the bathroom but the lighting is really bad, the outlets don't work, it’s smelly-”
After a quick glance at his watch he realised that he had a few vendors coming by and he needed to get back to the kitchen. “I know, that bathroom is a real shit show. I told Fak to fix it but nothing he fixes lasts for very long. The office is yours.” Carmen rushed out.
“I'm going to be here till 12 so if there is anything you need me to do before I leave just give me a holler.”
Carmen gave a nod of appreciation before his eyes lingered on her face for a second before grabbing a few papers and a clipboard and then opening the door to leave. It was stupid and childish but y/n held her breath wondering if he would be crushed to the size of a ping pong ball as soon as he left but when she heard him yelling at Richie she knew that the “alone in space” fantasy had died.
Y/n slipped out and went to her locker where she pulled out a dress, makeup and a straightening iron. She had an hour and a chance to make herself look like she just came out of a Mattel box and it was a daunting task for someone who didn’t have much experience dressing up.
Makeup was a bit of a disaster at first because she didn’t want to ruin any of Carmy’s papers but after she accidentally dabbed a bit of concealer on a light bill she just stopped giving a fuck and finished up. The hair was tricky, the outlet was near the ground and she had to crouch to straighten her hair.
The last and most daunting task was the dress because y/n was about to strip in her bosses office and although she had dreams about something this amazing, the reality was much less sexy. In a small burst of paranoia she rolled the chair over to the door so no one would walk in by accident and quickly changed. In the back of her mind all she was thinking about was the small glimmer of hope that Carmy would be the one to walk in. In reality, it would be Rich or Fak because boundaries were a foreign concept to the both of them.
And with 10 minutes to spare, y/n was done. She sprayed some perfume and hyped herself up to leave. She knew she would get teased so she wanted a smooth exit, an Irish goodbye would be perfect, fingers crossed hoping that Richie was out back so she would get out before he made these stupid jokes.
After a few deep breaths, y/n picked up her things and opened the door. The coast was clear and she made a beeline to the lockers to grab her purse, change her shoes and go. She would leave most of her stuff, because if you want to survive you have to be light, like those firefighters that ditch their equipment so that they don't get burned alive. Everyone looked busy and with a quick once over, y/n tried to walk through the kitchen. And although women and heels have had centuries of history, the heels still managed to betray her at the very end. The long sound of heel on tile brought Syd’s head up. Y/n eyes widened as she shook her head as to signal to Syd to drop it but Syd let out a playful gasp and Y/n knew that the jig was up.
“You look amazing.”
And a sea of eyes were looking at y/n.
“You get all dressed up for me?” Syd joked and for a split second y/n wondered if she could make a run for it before she realised that she would fall and crack her head open.
“Who else?” Y/n joked back hoping to get out before she was held captive by their questions.
“You look so nice, where are you headed?” Tina said as she came closer and dragged you closer to everyone.
“Umm- I was actually going to-”
“You know who you look like?” One of those women who seduces James Bond at a casino.” Sweeps commented unhelpfully. A hum of agreement was shared among the crew. Y/n’s face grew warm.
“So where are you going?”
“A date, women don't dress like that if it's not for a date” Ebra chimed in.
Another gasp, “ IS it a date, is he handsome?” Sydney probed.
“Actually, I'm not- '' Y/n tried to finish before she was interrupted.
“What type of car does he drive?”
“We'll see when he picks her up. When is he picking you up?”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU CLOWN JABBERING ABOUT '' Richie burst through the door to see what all the commotion was about and he looked like he was in utter disbelief.
“I didn’t know that it was possible for you could look like that”
Y/n was slightly offended.
“You normally look like death.” Richie laughed. Scratch that y/n was very offended.
“I could look like this everyday if I wasn’t in front of a stove, you clown.”
Ignoring her, Richie asked the room,“ Where is she headed?”
“A date”, Sweeps added.
“I'm going to my friends-” y/n tried to interject.
“A date huh, our little y/n is all grown up now. Soon we’ll be sending her off to college.” Wiping a fake tear and leaning on Tina for mock support, “They leave the nest so soon, it was like it was just yesterday when I saw her struggling to walk.”
“It WAS yesterday and I was only struggling because I hit my knee on the shelfs in the walk-in.”
“Who’s the guy?” Richie asked
“ Your dad.” Y/n knew it was childish and unoriginal but she was too flustered to be a bit more creative.
Richie ignores her and continues, “You know what you look like? You look like one of those girls who kills Johns”
“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?”
“A classy one for like the president and shit.”
“or an ambassador,” Ebra added.
“or a CEO,” Richie continued.
Y/n knew it was going to be tough but she wanted to get out before she was stuck forever.
“I have to go now, I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow. Richie you suck major ass. And just so you know, i'm not going on a-”
Carmen walked in with a clipboard and a pen not even sparing a glance up.
“Ok, I just got the beef delivered so we should have enough for Ebra till the end of the week.”
“Heard, chef”
“And Marcus”, who watched the whole thing and didn’t offer any help to y/n except the occasional chuckle.
“I have your eggs”
“Heard, chef”
Although no one said it, everyone was waiting for the moment that Carmen looked up and saw y/n. The dishwashers who never really left their stations shut off the water and were subtly watching this mess unfold.
It was the longest that y/n had seen Richie quiet. He just stared at Carmen, while hiding his mocking smile under the guise of rubbing his stubble.
“I know we are low on onions but the guy is coming in a bit so sit tight”
“Heard”
Maybe, y/n thought, she would be able to walk past Carmen unnoticed if she walked on the balls of her feet so that the heels made less noise. Y/n took a step forward to hightail it out of here so she could make it in time and even though the heel was a lot quieter then last time, the unusual silence in the kitchen made it impossible to disguise the sound.
The sound of heels on tiles brought Carmen back to reality.
He looked up and y/n didn’t know if she imagined it but she thought she saw him raise his eyebrows. And if she was really going to feed into her delusions, she would say that his eyes widened and his pupils dilated too.
All that came crashing down thought, because after a beat of silence barring the sounds of sizzling and bubbling. Carmen questioned, “I thought you would have left by now chef.”
“I got held back but I really do need to leave now. I'm going to miss you guys and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” And with a quick wave y/n brushed shoulders with Carmen as she left. The smell of her perfume lingered and Carmen felt a bit dizzy.
Carmen wanted to ask where y/n was going but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, not when the two of you have already gotten so close. Richie had different plans, “Hey cousin guess where y/n going?”
“I don’t know cousin, that isn’t really any of our buis-”
“She is going on a date”
“A hot one” Syd chirped
“With a nice car” Ebra added
Richie’s comment felt like a ton falling on his head. Now he felt a different type of dizziness. He quickly composed himself
“Chefs, we have a dinner rush coming, now is not the time.” Carmen said with a bit of an edge.
Richie led Carmen to the front under the guise of asking a question about the tablet. The crew looked around and shared a knowing snicker.
“I can't believe that you let her go like that?” Richie added. “Right now she is in some guy's car about to get wined and dined to high heaven while you wait here with your cock in your hand like some cuck.”
“ Cuck?” Carmen said with venom, it's like he was giving Richie a chance to take it back before he killed him.
“I would be fucken pissed. I wouldn’t let someone take my girl out like that, all dressed up for someone who isn't me”
For a second Carmen imagined you sitting across from your rich new date with the nice car and the handsome face and felt like throwing up. He was angry, he was angry with this “date”, he was angry at Richie for saying all that stupid shit to get a reaction, and embarrassingly enough he was angry at y/n. He had no right to be but he just couldn’t help it.
“Richie if you don’t knock it off, I’m going to send you flying out the fucking window”
“Yes, chef.” Richie mockingly replied.
And with a swift turn Carmen returned to the kitchen with a different temperament then he had 10 minutes ago.
The dinner rush was a nightmare, but the kitchen was hell. There wasn’t a single thing that didn’t set Carmen off. He wasn’t screaming like he was with the to-go orders but he was on edge. They could feel it when they had to remake dishes because he didn’t like them, or when they had to listen to him criticise innocuous things after housekeeping. When that dinner rush ended, the crew looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there. The second the restaurant closed, chefs cleaned as fast as they could to get the hell out of there. It was the fastest they had cleaned since the morning rush with the pre-orders.
With a quick goodbye, everyone but Carmen left the restaurant hoping that he would be in a better mood tomorrow.
Carmen did what he did every night, got on his knees and scrubbed the floor with a towel. Carmen knew it was unfair and he knew he had no right to dictate what you did. You weren’t his and he waited too long. A part of him understood where y/n was coming from, during one of their late night conversations he had mentioned that he had never had a girlfriend and he didn’t really have the time. This conversation took place some time after the two had gotten close but before he realised that he might have liked her for quite some time. Things were different now and Carmen wanted more.
He tried his best to be understanding but the thought of y/n clinging onto someone else’s arm and laughing at their stupid unfunny joke, made him livid. What if they kiss? Or what if they sleep together?” That thought made him stop scrubbing and sit on the balls of his feet and throw the wet towel with an unnecessary amount of force to another corner of the kitchen. He couldn’t do this today, he couldn’t be here. He got up and cleaned up the towel and bucket of dirty soap water and walked home.
He ended his night with a nightcap hoping that he would fall asleep easily but it didn’t work. He spent a good amount of time staring at y/n contact hovering over the call button before flaking out because it was 2 in the morning and he had to get to work at 6:30. Maybe Richie was right and he was a coward but before he could think too long, sleep had overcome him.
The restaurant was a bit of a walk away from Carmen’s house but he never minded it before, it felt like a good buffer between “Home Carmen” and “Work Carmen”. Today was different, he couldn't not think about y/n and that annoying date of her’s so for the first time in his time in Chicago he listened to music on his way to work. The music was so loud that it was just obnoxious noise and allowed him to stop worrying for a few moments. Carmen couldn’t think about y/n without feeling a bit… he didn’t know how he felt he just knew it was not a great feeling.
Being the first one in the restaurant was not new to him but it felt strange that after 30 minutes he was still the only one there, normally y/n would be there by now asking Carmen about a baking show they both happened to catch the night before, or ask what he ate for dinner last night and breakfast this morning. Carmen would always fight the urge to lie and say that he cooked something magnificent when in reality he probably ate a bag of chips and drank some flat soda. One of the things that these AA meetings emphasised was honesty, to both himself and others, and even if it was embarrassing he told you the truth. You never really judged him because you did the same thing.
After sorting through fuck ton of bills, a few of which had brown power on them and one of them had a (s/c) smudge on the corner he heard a buzz in his pocket. He looked at it hoping it was you saying that you'll be there any second.
(Y/N): I'm so sorry to do this to you but I'm going to be a bit late today, not super late but like an hour. I have to grab my extra apron from my place and I'm a bit far from there. I'll be there by 8 the latest. Again, super sorry :(
Carmen read the text a few times to check if he read that right, you were going to be late because you weren't home and slept somewhere else and needed a change of clothes. Which translated to, you were with someone else, which means you might have done something with someone else. He just stared at the text for a few more seconds before he heard the sound of the front door opening, Carmen didn’t have to look to know it was Sydney. He snapped out of it and sent back an “ok”, lowercase just to be a bit petty. Was it immature? Yes. Did he regret it? Not really.
Y/n spent the rest of her food budget for the week yesterday in a drunken haze with an uber from one side of Chicago to the other. The bachelorette party was a success and y/n was glad that her friend had a good time at the fancy restaurant that she picked out. Y/n was trying to be responsible and limit herself to a few drinks but it's hard to say no to the bride to be and before she knew it she had to leave her car at the restaurant because they took her keys and y/n and her friends crammed into an uber headed towards one of the bridesmaids houses.
Y/n woke up in a hurry, she grabbed a random shirt and joggers from her friends closet because all she had was that dress, which now had wine spilled on it. She quickly gathered her things and texted the group chat that she had to leave early so she could get to work. They would read it when they woke up. Not repeating yesterday’s mistakes she took the train to the restaurant, got her keys back and drove at illegal speeds to get to her place where she took a shower, changed back into her friends clothes because she was way behind on laundry. She took one last look in the mirror before grabbing the apron and sprinting out the door to drive to work. She got there at 7:30am and she felt like death. The hangover was finally catching up to her, and she poured herself some water from the dispenser out front. She knew everyone was in the kitchen by now. She gave herself a few more seconds of quiet before she opened the door to the kitchen and gave a quick hello and rushed towards the lockers to put her stuff in and change into her non-slip shoes and apron.
Richie raised his eyebrows. This was too good, it was too easy, all he needed was for Carmy to get out of that depressing office of his to bear witness to this.
Richie was the first to ask, “New shirt? Never seen it before? ”
“Good Morning to you Richie, if you need to know I borrowed it from my friend.”
Carmen wanted to rush out as soon as he heard your voice but he refrained. He promised himself that he would give you a bit of space to respect you and your date/boyfriend. That didn’t stop him from listening through the door.
“Some friend you got there, real close.” Richie jokes
y/n didn’t know what he was talking about, “Friends tend to be close, Richie. You would know that if you had any.” Y/n barked back.
“How was it?” Syd asked as she sliced what looked like gallons of onions.
Y/n knew that last night was probably a good night but she was so drunk then and so hungover now that it all made her a bit nauseous to think about.
“Honestly, I don't remember much but I do know it was fun.”
“Hungover?” Tina asked.
“Very, my whole body feels like i was run over by a semi”
Marcus handed y/n a gatorade before going back to work with the cakes.
“You come back to us in new clothes, showered, late, hungover, and sore. You must have one hell of a night!” Richie said louder than necessary just so that Carmen would hear, he had a feeling that Carmy was eavesdropping.
“Im telling you guys i didn’t actually go on a-”
Carmen didn’t want to hear anything after Richie spoke because he felt like he was going to hear something he didn’t want to know. He picked up a clip board, slammed the door open and began walking around.
“Chef.” Carmen said mechanically
“Chef.” Y/n replied back fully expecting this, she left early, came late and was now distracting everyone.
Y/n quickly busied herself with peeling garlic and the rest day fell back to its usual rhythm. The prep finished right before the restaurant opened and they worked on filling to-go orders along with the regular lunch and dinner orders. One thing was noticeably different to y/n, Carmen hadn’t looked or approached her once. Normally he would walk by all the chefs and ask how they were doing, checking the quality, etc but the second he got to y/n who was at the far end of the kitchen he circled back. He made comments to everyone’s dish and he had yet to even get within a 3 feet radius on y/n.
Y/n could feel that something was off and to test it, after the dinner rush she finished making one of the test items that Sydney and Carmen had wanted to try out and after a small taste she knew she killed it.
Y/n walked up to Carmen with the dish and set it down. “Can you taste it and tell me what you think?” Carmen didn’t look up, he just grabbed a fork, took a bite and said a quick “It's fine, chef”.
Y/n then looked the dish over to sydney and asked her to try it.
“It added a bit of chocolate because I read somewhere that Japanese people put chocolate in their curry”
“Chocolate huh?” Sydney grabbed a small notebook and made a note.
“It’s okay?” y/n asked.
“It's fire, chef. Great work”
In y/n mind that confirmed that something was wrong with Carmen. Y/n waited till the restaurant closed and everyone left to bring it up. It was just Carmen and y/n alone in the restaurant and y/n could feel there was something in the air.
“You don't have to stay late, you should leave early” Carmon proposed while not looking at her.
That was strange because Carmen never asked her to leave early. She walked up to Carmen who was sweeping the floor and ripped off the bandaid.
“Thanks for the offer but I want to stay with you for a bit longer.” Carmen’s grip on the broom toughened till his knuckles turned white. It was a risky thing to say and after a beat of silence y/n took the coward’s way out by diverting and changing subjects.
“I'm sorry I was so late today Carmen, are we good?”
“We're good.”
Another awkward silence.
“ I don’t think we're good, you seem, I don't know, pissed?”
“I'm good, you're good, we’re good” Carmen said by turning his attention to a very interesting onion skin on the floor.
“You didn’t say anything about the dish I made, or that I was late. Someone told me that you seemed off yesterday.”
“Was this someone named Sydney?”
“Cannot confirm or deny, Carmy”
Carmy finished sweeping and took a few steps back.
“There it is again! You keep walking away from me and not looking me in the eye.”
Carmen didn’t know that he was being obvious, he thought he was subtle because Richie would have brought it up if he wasn’t. Carmen forced himself to look up at y/n and felt like the wind was knocked right off his lungs, he really hadn’t seen her at all today and he missed her.
“You can tell me what's happening so that I can help or at the very least listen to what's wrong.” y/n offered
Carmen bent down, and started to scrub in silence. He looked like he was piecing something together and y/n didn’t want to intrude so she continued to scrub assuming the conversation was over and that they were going to spend the rest of their lives in this uncomfortable silence. A few minutes pass and then a long sigh is heard from the other end of the kitchen. Carmen looked up.
“I’ve been a bit..” Carmen started. Y/n wanted him to finish his thought before she called him a dick.
“It's been a weird day.. I know it shouldn’t but I can't help but ask..”
A pregnant pause passed.
“How was..” y/n leaned in so she could hear.
“How was your “thing” yesterday?” He spit out.
Y/n looked a bit confused, “Umm it was fine, I mean we were at a restaurant so it wasn’t anything to crazy”
“Why were you so late today?”
The other shoe dropped, “ I knew you were pissed that I was late.” With an exhale she continued “We went to dinner and then got shit faced drunk and ubered over to a friends house. I had to go by that restaurant in the morning to pick up my keys and drive to my place so I could take a shower and not smell like a walking liquor store.”
“How was he?” Carmen choked out after a few more beats of silence.
“How was who?”
“Your umm…”
“Mmm” Carmen continued.
Y/n waited but it felt like he was testing her patience,
“Your date?” Carmen finally conceded while swinging his head down.
“What date? I went to a bachelorette party with a few of my girlfriends.”
Carmen’s head shot up, “ I thought-”
“The people in here are so nosy, I kept telling them that it wasn't a date and they wouldn’t bother to listen.”
Carmen’s shoulders relaxed and he felt like he could finally look at you without feeling guilty that he was looking at another guy’s girl.
“What’s been on your mind, Carm?” Y/n probed and Carmen's shoulders tensed up again.
Y/n could feel the atmosphere change and she wanted to capitalise on it while she still could, she could trick herself into thinking that Carmy was jealous of some imaginary guy that he thought she went on a date on, when he probably was just diverting attention to avoid talking about his own problems.
More silence.
More scrubbing.
Carmen looked up with a look of determination, y/n assumed that he had finally hyped himself to tell her what has been bugging him. Although the tension was killing her she did want this moment to last for a bit longer. In this moment she could convince herself that Carmen was troubled because of her and not because work was drowning him or that he is a mess because his brother left him this shithole and left.
She wanted him to have a problem with an easy solution. If he liked her, the easy solution was that she would kiss him and tell him how much she longed for him. He would then confess how much he yearned for her and she would give all of herself to him and he would finally have a win in his life, something that wasn’t tainted by his love/hate relationship with cooking, his family, his brother. Something that he would have all to himself, her love.
Just for a few moments she repeated, that's how long she had till the dream died. This wasn’t the first time something similar had happened. They would stay late and in the comfortable beats of silence Carmen would look up with such a look of determination and y/n heart would flutter hoping for those three special words but she would get something completely different but still equally important, information about a very private part of his life whether it be the AA meetings, or the guilt he felt for resenting his brother. And everytime y/n’s heart would break a bit and then mend itself knowing that even if she couldn't have him like she wanted to, she would still be important to him.
That type of relationship, friendship, used to be enough, but not anymore. With his plans to change The Bear he was getting further and further away from her. It used to feel like it was the two of them but y/n was starting to wonder if she was going to be left behind. If she would stay friends for a while until the longing grew too strong and y/n would leave The Bear. Even if Carmen misses her for a while, y/n knew he would bounce back like he always did and she would slowly be replaced by Sydney or whoever. The thought that in a few years he will have learned to cope with his grief and trauma and move on from the past, move on from y/n, and maybe settle down with someone else made y/n feel like throwing up.
This time y/n didn’t fall for Carmen's “look”, she had a neutral face and was ready to hear what Carmen's issues were. She wouldn’t assume that she was going to get a confession. This time she will help him with his problems and move on from this one-sided crush. Maybe she WILL go on a few dates to forget about him.
“Carmen, do you want to talk about it?We don’t have to do anything you don't want to.”
Determination morphed into apprehension.
“I am feeling something, it is n-n-not…” He exhaled through his nose.
”It's selfish y/n. I'm being selfish. You have every right to do whatever you want but I..”
Y/n tried to look as comforting as possible trying her best to hide any confusion, if Carmen was any other person she would ask if he was sober right now because he was a total mess.
“I’ve never done this before, and I-” and he ran his palm through his hair.
Y/n refrained from thinking about how amazing he looked under the fluorescent lights with his tousled hair and apprehensive gaze. He could bring up his nightmares or sleepwalking, and she would feel so guilty for perving over his eyes.
“You looked very nice in that dress yesterday.” Y/n felt like a lump was forming in her throat. He was going to say something like this and think it's an off handed comment but she would go to the bathroom and cry because she knew nothing would come from it. Y/n thought it was a bit cruel.
“You looked so beautiful yesterday it was hard for me to look at you without making a fucking idiot out of myself. I wanted to run over to you and tell you that as soon as you left but Richie told me you're going on a date and it was…”
Carmen continued, “You are special and you deserve someone who isn’t…me. And you're free to do whatever and if this is completely …wrong…bad…i don't know, just stop me and we will never talk about this ever again…”
He searched y/n’s eyes looking for a sliver of doubt or disgust but he was met with glassy eyes and a look that longed for him to continue.
“When I thought you were going on that date I knew that I couldn’t not have you and that made me feel….” A sigh reverberated through the kitchen.
“ I like you…romantically.” Carmen uttered.
Y/n didn’t say or do anything for a moment, she spent a few moments wondering if she was hallucinating or dreaming. And in a moment of pure adrenaline, she scooted over to Carmen who was still on the floor before cupping his face in her hands and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”
The kiss wasn't electrifying; it felt like a wave of warmth seeped into every corner of their beings. It felt like dipping your hand in warm water after shovelling the show, the type of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. Y/n fingers get lost in his wavy hair and his hands hesitate, not knowing where they should go before landing one on her hip and the other on the back of her neck to pull her closer. Y/n heart was beating so hard she wondered stupidly if he could hear it, Carmen was wondering something similar. They slowly pulled away for air before getting a good look at each other, both their lips were swollen and red and their eyes were dazed.
Y/n knew he was a flighty person, one wrong move and he would go running for the hills so she refrained from asking if they were dating now, this could have just been a one time thing and she didn’t want to ruin it. Thankfully Carmen held her hand and stroked it with her thumb before swinging his head down and looking up at her.
“I want to be with you y/n”
“I like you too, Carmen, for a very long time.” And their lips meet once again.
Y/n resisted the urge to say that she only bought the dress in the hopes that he would take it off of her, that was a story for another time.
“Let's get you home” Carmen mumbled into her lips, the vibrations and the friction making her lips burn in sensitivity.
Carmen helped y/n get up before they both packed up their stuff and headed out the door. Both hiding the smile of triumph from each other, not really knowing how much the other loves them yet, and only time would remedy that.
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ultraviolencced · 2 years
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#and the few hours of happiness are over and going home is not going to be fun#my sister was on the phone with my mom and my mom is so fucking loud i could hear what she was saying and in what Tone of voice#and like i suspected she’s mad at me#i told her months ago that i shouldn’t have taken the trip i can’t afford all of it and that physically it’s going to wreck me#and for months she’s been encouraging it telling me it’s ok and it’s gonna be fun#but now i fucked up and she’s going to me mad at me which will either mean no communication at all she’s just going to ignore me#or be passive aggressive or straight up yell at me#i still get the same feeling as i did when i was a teenager getting in trouble it’s awful#like i’m so grateful for her bc i’m almost 27 and can’t live on my own because i’m unemployed because i have more than one disabilities#but she crushes my spirit sometimes:)#when i was 16 me and my friends went to a concert in denver and my mom and her boyfriend at the time took us and went to a sports bar#she was fully aware of what time the concert ended but because she wanted to leave#she screamed at me when i walked out and she did that all the way home 60miles with my two friends in the car#i didn’t leave my room for three days because of how upset i was and thought she was going to continue yelling at me#my sister is totally selling me out right now she’s on the phone with her and waited til she went out to the car to talk to her away from me#but she had to bring me the key card to soak my arthritis filled body in the hot tub so she came and gave it to me and that’s when#i heard the conversation and now want to sit at the bottom of the hot tub and never come back up :)#i didn’t even get a full day of paul serotonin high not even 12 hours :)#someone with covid needs to spit in my mouth if i get it again it’s gonna be bad so bring it the fuck on covid kill my lungs#i’ve also spent most of this trip crying from various anxieties and this is the cherry on top of the shit cake#i don’t know what the fuck i’m supposed to do#i’ll stop my lupus treatments and seizure meds that’ll do the trick#i’m not doing good on main right now#shut the fuck up taylor
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808airsoftbros · 9 months
Text
Fitness Trainer (Kim Seolhyun) (S) (BXG)
Author: This one was inspired from a Kdrama web series I recently watched so here it is... Also if you want to check out more of my stories take a peak at the Masterlist :)
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Y/N’s POV
Hearing the news that a new gym has just opened in my town a couple blocks away from my house, I’ve already read positive reviews of the place as the staff and trainers are knowledgable of the equipment and proper diet and exercise along with all sorts of cool workout gadgets.
Not only that they also sell pre-workouts, protein shakes, and drinks, and of course the memberships required to enter the gym.
Honestly, the membership wasn’t too bad being the price of $25 per month and I decided why the hell not?
Changing into my workout attire, I grab my duffle bag holding all of my shower needs and a change of clothes.
I get into my car, start the engine, and exit the garage, the drive to the gym was about five minutes as it was close to my house.
Making my way into the gym, I was awestruck by the decor and how nice this place looked.
Walking up to the receptionist, he greets me and asked if I had a gym membership or not.
“Uhm, this is my first time here,” I answered.
“That’s perfect because we offer a ten percent discount to newcomers for the first three months and even a trainer,” The receptionists offered.
“Sweet, it’s a deal,” I accepted and he nodded.
Completing the transaction and getting the sweet deal, he gives me an access card that lets me through the doors and instructs me to wait in room 02 for the trainer.
Sliding the card on the electronic locking mechanism, it automatically unlocks the door and when I walked through the doors, I was again amazed by the amount of people working out and the top-of-the-line gym equipment.
Looking around for the private room, I saw a sign with the label “Room 02″ and the bottom text saying “Kim Seolhyun”. Guess she must be the trainer I’ll be working with so I politely knocked on the door.
“Coming~!” I hear a female voice shout.
Hearing footsteps approaching the door opens revealing a stunning woman dressed in a sports bra nearly exposing her beautiful breasts and yoga pants showing off her thighs and her thick ass.
“Holy fucking shit...” I said in my thoughts as I couldn’t believe my luck.
“Hello there, you must be Y/N, right?” She asked and I nervously nodded.
“Y-Yep, that’s me,” I answered and she smiled.
“Excellent! Please do come in!” She said and stepped aside.
Walking into her room, it was quite cozy and nice with two yoga mats set up on the floor along with a rack of weights and gym equipment.
“Please sit on the yoga mat, we will first begin with some yoga exercises,” She instructed and I did what she said.
Joining me on the mattress, she instructs me on certain poses and stretches which I find uncomfortable at first but I got used to it the longer I keep a certain position.
However, I can’t help but blush the fact at how close we are, her large mounds were literally smashed into my back.
Kinda makes me wonder if she was doing this on purpose...
Anyway, after the warm-up yoga exercises were over, we moved on to weight lifting and since I’m new, she starts me with 5-10 pound weights.
“Wah, for your first time, you’re doing quite well~,” She complimented and I chuckled.
“T-Thank you, Noona,” I nervously thanked her and she giggled.
Continuing lifting the weight bar, I squat down and up at a steady pace until she stopped me.
“Hold on! Your stance and position are wrong!” She called out and corrected me.
Once again, she takes my hand and legs, spreads them in the correct position, and tells me to continue my set.
“Okay, you’ve had enough for today, Y/N, great work today! Just make sure to follow the diet I’ve given you and you will be a pro in no time!” She explained and I nodded.
“Right, thank you again, Noona!” I thanked her.
“Anytime! I’ll see you again tomorrow!” She waved goodbye as I left the room.
Seolhyun’s POV
Damn, he is so cute... I don’t know what’s gotten into me but interacting and working with that boy made me feel butterflies in my stomach.
It’s strange to have such feelings after breaking up with my ex-boyfriend not too long ago.
However, I can tell that he took some glances at my boobs and my ass which I didn’t mind as I was used to men eye-fucking me whenever I’m jogging or in the gym.
But Y/N is different from those creeps that I train, he’s respectful, polite, and kind, and he’s a young boy so he has much growing up to do before he becomes a man.
And I’ll be more than happy to help...
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A Few Weeks Later...
Y/N’s POV
It’s nearly been a month since I started being apprenticed to Kim Seolhyun and so far, she was the best fitness trainer I’ve been under.
Already, I can start seeing the progress as I’m starting to lose some pounds and my stomach was more toned.
I started eating less junk food and eating more vegetables and healthy foods like Seolhyun instructed.
Coming to another day of workout at the gym, I proceed into the room as per routine and was greeted by Seolhyun.
“Hello, Y/N, are you ready for your training?” She asked.
“More than ever!” I answered and she smiled.
“Good stuff! That’s what we like to hear! Now let’s get to our warm-up!” She commenced.
Getting onto the yoga mat as usual, she caught me by surprise when she said we were going to stretch together as she’s never done her daily stretching yet.
“Now can you hold my back for me, please?” She asked and I nodded.
Holding her back and hand as instructed as Seolhyun did her thing, it was embarrassing as my crotch was literally touching her ass.
Focus Y/N! Focus! DO NOT HAVE A BONER!!! NOT NOW!!!
I screamed to myself to not do it as it would make this situation very awkward and I’ll never see myself or Seolhyun the same ever again.
“Are you okay back there, Y/N? Your face is so red,” She concerningly asked and I shook my head.
“Huh? I’m fine, what about you?” I politely asked and she raised an eyebrow.
Right... I forgot to mention, as time went on, Seolhyun started to get ALOT more touchy with me.
I never questioned why she was touching places she wasn’t supposed to but who am I to stop her?
“Okay, that’s enough, now let’s get to the main set,” She said and we started our set.
After a few hours of weight training, running, and cardiac exercises, we were just about finished working out for today.
“Alright, that’ll be it for today, another job well done, Y/N,” She complimented as she drank water.
“Yeah, thanks,” I replied.
Grabbing our duffle backs, we get out of the room to see the gym was vacant and not a sight of a janitor or a clerk.
“Where is everyone?” I wondered and I take out my phone to check the time.
“Oh my God... The gym closed like an hour ago...” Seolhyun mentioned as she looked at her watch.
“Damn, must’ve lost track of time,” I said and she chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you work so hard, but let’s shower and get out of here,” She said and I nodded.
Walking to the men’s shower room, I was shocked to see Seolhyun following me as the Women’s shower room was down the corridor.
“What? Nobody else is here? Plus it’s closer,” She pointed out and I sighed.
With my mind racing, I step into the shower room, I placed the duffle bag onto the bench, and Seolhyun places her on the opposite side.
I take out all of my showering gear consisting of soap, a towel, and my change of clothes before taking off my shirt.
“Not half bad body, being that you’ve been working out for the past few weeks,” Seolhyun complimented and I blushed.
“Hehe~. I don’t mind you peaking at me, I trust you enough,” She assured.
“Aish, can you stop this nonsense please?” I begged and she giggled.
Taking off the rest of my clothes, I take a deep breath before going under the shower head and turning the knob to hot water.
To my surprise, Seolhyun joins me as well and of course, she was butt-ass naked which didn’t help my situation.
“Uhm, Noona, there are other shower heads you know,” I pointed out and she playfully rolled my eyes.
“What? Are you afraid of a naked woman?” She asked.
“N-No, it’s just, a man and a woman shouldn’t shower together unless they are a couple,” I replied and she grinned.
“H-Hey, don’t you get any ideas!” I stuttered and she slowly approaches me.
“Or else what? What are you going to do?” She asked and I gulped.
Staring deep into my eyes, I can’t help but stare into her eyes and she’s telling me that she wasn’t fucking around... She actually wants to fuck.
“Maybe it’s a good time, to be honest with myself, Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you ever since we first met, I don’t know if I’m just crazily in love with you but I don’t care... Because now all I want to is you,” She said before whispering the last part into my ear sending shivers down my spine.
“I’ve seen you stare at my ass... I’ve seen you glancing at my breasts and I know you love the feeling of them pressing on your back~,” She flirted as she wraps her hand around my cock.
“T-This is too fast, Noona, I-I don’t-” I was about to say but she tightens her grip on my cock making me squeal.
“Did I say you can talk~?” She asked and I shook my head.
“Now, what do you want your Noona to do?” She asked as she gets on her knees and slowly gave me a handjob.
“B-Blowjob...?” I nervously asked and she smirked.
“Hehe. Anything for you cutie~,” She replied before licking the shaft making me loudly moan and kissing the tip.
Engulfing my length into her mouth, it was clear that she was experienced as it felt really good and warm. She kept bobbing her head up and down and letting out a loud bop.
“Did you like it, baby, ~?” She asked.
“Y-Yes, Noona, it was really good,” I answered and she smiled.
“Good, now it’s time to show you some moves~,” She said and was about to place my dick in between her mounds.
*phone ringing*
“Ughhh... Sorry honey but will have to continue this another time, I have an errand but remember, I want an answer by then, understand?” She asked and I nodded.
“Good, but let me finish you off, real fast,” She replied and sucked me off until I came into her mouth.
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The Next Day...
Y/N’s POV
After that strange interaction with my fitness trainer Seolhyun yesterday, I was left pondering as I don’t know how to feel about her.
Sure she was beautiful and all but this is all too sudden and quick for me as she’d be my first love.
I’m not sure if oral counts as taking my virginity or not but I felt like it was taken either way.
Anyway, I prepared myself for another training exercise, drove to the gym, and enter the room but I was surprised to see a different trainer.
“Hello, you must be Y/N, right?” The trainer asked and I nodded.
“Y-Yes, but where is Seolhyun?” I asked.
“Oh, well, Seolhyun is running a bit late so I’ll warm you up in the meantime, also my name is Kim Sohee and help you train until she gets here, so let’s start with some stretches, shall we?” She said and I get on the mat.
Glancing at her body, her breasts and ass were thicker than Seolhyun’s but I can’t help but feel as if she was trying to flirt with me.
“Wah, you’re so flexible and strong, Seolhyun trained you well, huh?” She complimented and I nervously chuckled.
“T-Thank you,” I thanked her and she giggled.
“No need to thank me, cutie, now let’s move on to our set,” She replied.
As we start weightlifting I can’t help but feel as if I was being watched by someone.
Seolhyun’s POV
Crap! Crap! I cannot believe this! My fucking ex-boyfriend shows up at my door begging for forgiveness for sleeping with another woman.
Of course, I shut him out and tell him to beat it and that I never want to see him ever again but he refused to leave.
Thankfully, I finally managed to make him fuck off, and now I’m going to be late because of him but I had a colleague of mine train him in the meantime.
I rushed to the gym as fast as I could hoping that Y/N will forgive me for being late. Parking at the lot, I ran into the gym, slide my card. and made my way into the gym and to my private training room.
I saw Y/N there with another trainer of mine but strangely, Jungkook wasn’t there instead it was Sohee.
Y/N never noticed my presence yet but Sohee did and she smirked at me as she gets behind him pressing her breasts on her back.
Obviously, I was infuriated as this was the same bitch who stole my previous boyfriend and I know she’s a playgirl and just wanted Y/N for herself only to dump him.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I’ll take it from here, Sohee,” I said.
“There’s no need for that, Seolhyun, I got this so why don’t you take a day off?” She offered and I gave her a fake smile.
“Thank you for the offer but I’ll have to decline it, besides, I know Y/N’s needs and everything he needs to do for today,” I replied and she frowned.
“Well, what do you think, Y/N? Do you want me? Or Seolhyun?” Sohee whispered into his ear making me clench my fists.
“U-Uhm...” He stuttered as he was unsure what to do in this situation making me feel sad. Did confessing my feelings not mean anything to him?
“Sorry, Sohee, but imma stick with Seolhyun, but thank you for your help,” Y/N answered making me sigh in relief.
“Aww~. Are you sure~?” She seductively asked and I’ve just about had it.
Pulling her by ear, she yelped in pain as I dragged her out of my room, opened the door, and threw her out before shutting the door.
Y/N’s POV
Seeing her harshly dragging Sohee-Noona out of the room made me realize just how scary she can be. She turned around to face me and gave me a deadly glare.
“Now, baby boy, about what I asked for yesterday...” She paused.
“W-What about it?” I nervously asked.
“You know... Do you share the same feelings as I do? Do you love me?” She asked and I gulped.
Pushing me down onto the mattress with her hands straddling my hand whilst giving me a lustful look and dived into my neck before biting it leaving a mark and drawing out some blood.
“W-What was that for?” I asked.
“For making your mommy jealous and to show everyone who you belong to, now it’s time I take your virginity and for you to grow up~,” She answered sending shivers down my spine.
Not wasting any time, she strips down her clothes as I did the same, she places her lips onto mine and made out until we ran out of breath.
“You’re such a good kisser being a virgin, baby, but now it’s time for the main event,” She said before inserting my cock into her pussy making her loudly moan.
“W-What if they hear us?” I concerningly asked.
“Don’t worry about them, baby, this room is soundproof. Now stop asking questions because not only I’m going to fuck your brains out but I’m also going to drain your balls,” She answered and I gulped.
When Seolhyun begins riding the daylights out of me, I never knew how tight she was and it kinda hurt but it felt so good.
“Oh my God, baby, your dick is so good~!” She yelled as she continued moaning.
Seeing her tits bounce up and down as she rode me turned me on even more and we switch position to doggy style and re-insert back into her before ramming into her.
Yes, darling, right there~!” She moaned as I hit her G-spot.
Arching back, I play with her tits adding more pleasure and latched her lips as I pounded her.
“Ah, I’m so close, baby~,” She warned.
“So am I,” I replied.
“Then let’s cum together~,” She said and we did just that.
Collapsing onto the floor together, my dick was still inside of her but she didn’t care as she hugged me tightly as she pressed my head into her mounds.
“You did so well, baby~,” She complimented.
“T-Thank you, Noona, you were amazing~,” I replied and she giggled as she caressed my head.
“I love you, baby~,” She said.
“I love you too, Noona~,” I replied.
From that point on, we kept having sex in her gym room and at our houses or whenever we can as I get addicted to her. I’ve never met such an incredible and caring woman in all my life and I’m forever happy to be with her as she felt the same way.
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grapejuicestyless · 7 months
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Burn Out
Conrad Fisher x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n was often labeled, “the gifted kid.” She can’t help but feel like she’s falling behind when everyone’s suddenly leaving her behind
link to request HERE.
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She’d heard it her whole life. From the day she could walk to her first report card with letters on it, her mother always threw the term around to all her friends. She bragged to her relatives, boasted to her co-workers. It felt nice to be good, to get good grades, to do well in activities after school. But with each passing year, Y/n grew up wanting to be great.
She was tired of her mother raving to Susannah about how good at writing she was for her age. She didn’t want to be good for her age. She just wanted to be great. It seemed that no matter how much she excelled, she was forever bound to that boundary that left her feeling less than.
Being good for her age didn’t feel like a compliment after she reached double digits. She felt stupid. Why couldn’t she be more? Why was she subjected to only be allowed to succeed within the group of individuals who all shared the same birthdays, birth years? Why wasn’t she ever compared to the big kids? The varsity athletes who complimented her and the art prodigies who urged her to pursue it for longer. Why couldn’t anyone see how hard she was treating to be the best she could?
It was obvious she was going places. How while Conrad and Steven ran around throwing footballs and splashing around in the pool, Y/n was curled up in the grass reading best selling novels and scandalous news stories. She was set on being great her whole childhood, never enjoying the simple things. But her love for reading and writing that developed in her tween years is what started her spiral.
Y/n was set on being a journalist. She had her future planned out. She wanted to go to an Ivy League. The state or the name didn’t matter. She wanted something she could put on her work resume to show everyone what she could do. She worked for it. She dropped all of her sports, all of her art classes. She was set on this career path she wanted so badly. She wrote for the school newspaper, the yearbook, the town paper. She did it all. Even without the early morning wake ups in the summer, her eyes carried heavy eye bags from her obsessive work ethic. She sat at the desk Susannah and Laurel had built for her by the bay window. She wrote and she wrote until her palms were grey with graphite and her fingers calloused and aching.
They all said she would outgrow it. The desire to be the best, the competitive nature she had. When she didn’t, they began to realize their mistake. Y/n never saw her peers as her biggest competitors, but herself as her biggest threat. She wanted to out write herself, make everything she could the best possible so even when she was old she could smile and say she was proud of it. To everyone, it seemed that with her obsessions and excessive efforts, she was headed right where she wanted to be.
Y/n’s mother always believed she wouldn’t have to put any money away for Y/n. Surely, she would be able to manage a full ride somewhere wonderful. A penny wouldn’t be spent on anything more than the books and the comforter for her dorm room. The added pressure to Y/n’s already rotten mind tainted with the intense pressure to remain as gifted as her mother had always convinced everyone she was.
Quickly, it built. Her hands still ached and she still spent hours at her desk, but she couldn’t write anymore. It all came out in short sentences that led her no where. There was no connection to make it make sense. She couldn’t think of ways to out do herself, ways to reinvent the greatness she knew she had within herself. She couldn’t spend every hour studying until her eyes drooped and the pages were stuck together with her drool. She couldn’t do it anymore.
The only way to describe what Y/n felt was burnt out. Sluggish. She moved through the days just the same, but they dragged. She wasn’t productive. She laid in bed eyes crusty and dry from all of her tears being wasted on her pillows.
She was failing. Not only in her head now, but now everyone else knew it. She was barely passing English and now calculus and physics seemed like too much to juggle. She didn’t feel wise beyond her years anymore. She felt right where she started, bound to the boundaries of her own age. No matter how hard she tried, her motivations were gone. She wasn’t a prodigy, she just tried. She wasn’t gifted, she was simply obsessive. She had little friendships left, no boyfriend. Her own dreams got in the way of her childhood.
When the letters came in, she watched how everyone around her rejoiced, basking in their victories. Steven was going to Princeton. Jeremiah to finch and Belly would surely follow him. The one that stung the most was Conrad. He’d already managed a spot in Browns pre-med program. Not that Y/n wanted that for herself, to be a doctor that is. No, but to have to ability to show everyone from her small hometown she had the brains to escape, be known. But Brown was never enough for Conrad. How could one of the hardest Ivy’s to get into ever be enough for the overachieving blonde? The boy who never really had to try in order to be great. He had to rub salt into the wound by getting into Stanford the following summer.
Y/n never hated Conrad for it. It wasn’t his fault he was just naturally better than her. But it stung that the only college that she could afford would be the safety state school. Her mother was partially to blame. Even though Y/n had gotten into some of the hardest schools to attend, none came with the financial aid she needed. She was good, but not enough. Without any savings from her mother, the money she had saved was not nearly enough to travel the map for school. She would forever be stuck somewhere she didn’t want to be.
It wasn’t like she cared the most, less work in some senses. Yet, the pounding headache that constantly beat at her self esteem screamed at her. How the voices that taunted her for all these years had finally been proven right.
Y/n would always be good, but she could never be great.
Careful of the heaviness of it all, Conrad treaded lightly to her slumping frame.
Sitting in her room, shadows casted over her quilt, her eyes stared blankly into the old oak desk she once considered something short of an oasis. Her papers were neat, pencils dull. Used up from pointless ideas and messy attempts to grasp at her lost talents.
Holding the letters, detailing how much she owed to prove herself, the debt she ultimately couldn’t afford, she began to grow resentful. How she had wasted her best years on something she couldn’t afford to achieve. While everyone else had memories of beach volleyball and sandcastles, Y/n had paper cuts and tired eyes. It was all so defeating to realize.
While many could brush her off as too sentimental, too emotional over something so small, Conrad knew her better. He saw the way her eyes dimmed, her heart stuttered. She died just hours ago in that once lively kitchen when reading the news.
“I’m a failure.” It was all she could manage. Three shaky words that broke between, her breathing coming out in quiet gasps. It was like a knife to the heart, realizing someone so persistent was finally giving up. Crumbling.
In her mind, she had made every mistake possible. She’s given up something so important, risked the loss of her childhood all for some dream she herself couldn’t even achieve with all the hours of work she forced upon herself. Yet, to Conrad, she hadn’t failed in the slightest. Y/n was wise well beyond her years. She had a mind like no other, a way with her words but also reasoning behind each sentence that made even the most outlandish claims seem more truthful than a defined fact. To him, she was the definition of greatness.
“You have your whole life ahead of you.” He’d tried to reassure her, words muffled against her hair. She smelled of coconut and fruits. Freshly washed hair as clean and neat as her mind once was. Still, his touch and his words held no weight in Y/n’s racing mind.
How could she explain to him each detail of the situation, each complexity that made her so distraught, so self destructive? Not only had she failed, but in all her efforts, she’d missed out on the best years of her life. She wondered if she would have to live with herself, from now for eternity wishing she could go back? Lay out under the stars and watch as satellites became mistaken as comets by her friends.
“Will it feel like this forever?” She’s asked almost too innocently. It was a genuine question. Would the stabbing pains in her heart, the throbbing inside of her skull ever full into an ache she could ignore for her own good? Would she ever stop living in regret and just be able to live her life without her own fears of missing out, of falling short?
“It’s gets better.” He’d promised her. Truthfully, there was no way he could’ve known. He was blessed with the ability to be effortlessly great. Always at the top without any struggle for the power that came with it. All while Y/n had to fight for even a spot on the podium.
Conrad only had one regret then. That he hadn’t been quicker to stop Y/n from falling so far, so hard. He knew it better than anyone, he lived and breathed burnouts. He crashed constantly, falling flat on his face. Yet, somehow he never slipped from where he stood. He wished that she could see just how amazing she was.
“What if I don’t?” It was a double edged sword. Both a question of mentally and physically. Would the pain ever ease? Would the slump fade into a distant memory of her teenage years? Would her skills resume into a climb of greatness as Y/n developed into something just short of Shakespeare? She still longed for that sense of accomplishment in her life. She still strives to be at the top and it was killing her. The fact that in her constant need to get better, she had fallen into a state of panic when she saw no progress. She feared that in her best efforts, she’d already given up all the best parts of herself, to no avail.
Conrad couldn’t promise her that she would. She had worked so long, fallen just short of what she deserved, all at the faults of the pressures of her youth. All responsibilities she never deserved to have to carry in the first place.
Placing a kiss to her temple, he held onto her like a promise, keeping her locked away in his heart. Silently, as her eyes settled back on the old oak desk, Conrad prayed. He never did that. He wished that there were some alternate universe. One where Y/n could live in peace, free from the restrictions and pressures of her childhood. A life where her future wasn’t something she had to know so early. He hoped that somewhere in that universe, she realized just how important she was, at least to him.
He swore then, even in her darkest hours, despite what the world thought, he would always love her. He only wished that she could see what he thought of her. That she was the greatest thing to ever happen.
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fuck-customers · 25 days
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Ok hi hello, how the FUCK are we supposed to reach the "goal" if we're literally not told what the fucking goal is? And wtf is this passive-aggressive bullshit?
So my work has one of those phone number scams where they make us bully customers into giving us their phone number to have in our computer system that does not benefit the customers in any way. No rewards. No discounts. Nothing.
SO I had assumed that the register system automatically kept track of how many signups we were getting and all that shit. Literally what's the point if it's not? I still don't know. All I know is last week, one of the managers said "we're going to start keeping track of signups again" and I was like you weren't doing that the whole time?? Why the fuck did I bother doing the stupid ass signups for all that time then?
ANYWAY
The point of today's story is this:
I go into the breakroom at work and there's a printout of all of us employees and our phone number percentages. (employee numbers only, at least we weren't 100% put on blast, but it wouldn't be that difficult to narrow down which number was whose) with the employees who were under a certain percentage highlighted with a passive-aggressive note written that these employees need to reach "the goal."
1. WHAT fucking goal? Nowhere on this stupid public shaming attempt does it have any indication what the goal is that were supposedly working towards. Are we trying to reach 50% signups? 60%? 70%? Fuck if I know.
2. Even if there WAS a numbered goal, there's no way for the cashiers to know if they're hitting the goal or not until the week's results have been printed out and posted, which it appears management intends on doing. It's not like the registers have a little percentage in the corner so we can keep track of our own progress. Literally only management has access. So we have to blindly hope that we're reaching this unspecified goal.
3. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever to post that information to shame us. None of us were informed that we were supposed to be working towards any goal at all.
And 4. Ok so let's say we reach this mystery goal....and? What? What is that going to do for us? Or we don't reach the goal? And? So what? Management has lied in the past about if our numbers go up, so will our hours and that was a fucking lie.
I cannot stress enough just how useless the phone number thing is. It is not a store credit card signup where customers have to get approved or anything like that. The customer gets absolutely nothing out of providing their personal information. If they want coupons or discounts or rewards, they have to download the store app onto their phone. We cannot access any rewards or discounts on the register. At first, managers tried to lie to customers to say that if they provided their phone number, they could do returns without a receipt.
Except...you can do a return without a receipt no matter what. It's the exact same process/policy for every single customer. Whether or not they provide their phone number, every single customer doing a return without a receipt will automatically get the lowest price for those items in the last 90 days back. Period. There's not even a way to pull up old transactions from a customer's phone number if they lost their receipt. It is 100% useless. I personally suspect there's something shady going on and the company is selling customer's personal information or tracking their spending habits for advertising or something sketchy.
So anyway, someone who definitely was not me wrote a note back telling them to tell us what the goal was or else we cannot reach it.
If you decide you want to fudge the numbers a bit here are some random numbers to use.
Buena Vista Water Sports 407-239-6939 Sky Venture 407-903-1150 Orange Blossom Balloons 407-239-7677 Kennedy Space Center 407-522-5911 Silver Springs 352-236-2121 Cypress Gardens 1-863-324-2111 Fun Spot 407-363-3867 Gator Land 1-800-393-jaws or 407-855-5496 Green Meadows Petting Farm 407-846-0770 Holy Land Experience 1-866-872-4659 or 407-872-2272 Orlando Science Center 407-514-2000 WonderWorks 407-351-8800 Ripley’s Believe it or Not 407-345-0501 Boggy Creek Airboats 407-344-9550 Orlando Museum of Art 407-896-4231 Central Florida Zoo 407-323-4450 Leu Gardens 407-246-2620 Old Town 407-383-6126 Daytona USA 1-386-947-6530 Wekiwa Springs State Park 407-884-2008 Richard Petty Driving Experience 1-800.BE.PETTY Jungleland Zoo 407-396-1012 US Astronaut Hall of Fame 1-321-269-6100 Magical Midway 407-370-5353 Citrus Tower 1-863-324-2111 Sky Coaster 407-397-2509 Scenic Boat Tour of Winter Park 407-644-4056 Orlando Helitours 407-397-0226 Star Flyer (located at magical midway) 407-383-6124 Dotties Orlando Comedy Theatre 407-226-3680 192 Flea Market 407-396-4555 Visitors Flea Market 407-396-0114 Maingate Flea Market 407-390-1015 Medieval Times Dinner Show 407-396-1518 or 1-888-WE JOUST Pirates Dinner Adventure 407-248-0590 or 1-800-866-2469 Sleuths Mystery Dinner Show 407-363-1985 or 1-800-393-1985 Capone’s Dinner Show 407-397-2378 or 1-800-220-8428 Arabian Nights 407-239-9223 Walt Disney World Resort 1-800-W-Disney or 407-824-2222 Hoop Dee Doo Review 407-WDW-DINE Wide World of Sports (407) 939-2040 Disney’s Polynesian Luau 407-WDW-DINE Sea World 1-800-327-2424 or 407-351-3600 Discovery Cove 1-800-327-2424 or 407-351-3600 Universal Orlando Resort 407-363-8000
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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So I know celebrity rockstar Eddie with Just-Some-Guy Steve is popular, but what about the opposite?
Steve, who is a professional Basketball player, got scouted from where he played for his college team. The fan fave, the darling of the locals, and one of the best players on the team. Models for sportswear brands, has had interviews and talks at schools and the media loves him. He's handsome, and nice, and has publicly come out.
And then there's Eddie. His boyfriend since college. Just some guy who runs a music store. Started just as a minimum wage worker and then slowly worked his way up to running a small business himself. Sells guitars and drums and other instruments. Vinyl and cds and music merch. Hosts guitar lessons. Is happy playing music because he loves it, not for the fame and money.
Eddie goes to all his games (or as many as he can) and while he's not a sports guy and never will be he loves watching Steve play. Is only about 80% sure of the rules at best and that's good enough for Steve. And Steve who's not a metal fan, and will never be into DnD but will spend his free evenings helping Eddie plan a campaign or listening to this song Eddie's been trying to learn on the guitar.
Idk I just think it's fun to explore the opposite! Eddie getting excited any time he sees people wearing Steve's merch in public and people keep mistaking him for a hardcore fan because no one knows who he is and honestly he's fine with that. He is a big fan of Steve
he's a big fan of steve' MOMO THAT LAST LINE TOOK ME OUT!!!! OHH!!!!
Okay so as always i am IN LOVE with your ideas and where you take them and explore with the space.
Please can I have Eddie who doesn't completely GET sports but he DOES get collecting so he has one of those card books and collects basket ball trading cards. He has a full page of 'Steves' that he every proud of because he's drawn on some of them, giving him different outfits/hair/facial hair/speech bubbles, some include dragon hatcher steve, android steve, malibu barbie steve and pronstache steve (that one wasn't even drawn on, Steve was just trying something new and it got immortailised in a trading card much to Eddie's delight. His personal favourite is a Steve mid spin of the ball on his fingertip, the image of concentration and Eddie has yet to see a photo that highlights the muscle and bite-ability of Steve's arms quite as well as that one.
When Eddie and Steve are out for dinner and Eddie sees a little kid wearing a shirt with Steve's name on it he's quick to point it out to the delight of his boyfriend, both of them trying to figure out a way to subtly let the kid know that 'Harrington' is here.
Eddie who turns up to games with the kids and a foam finger because 'Steve come on its hilarious' but in reality he just loves obnoxiously supporting him. Steve kisses his finger tips and waves to Eddie before running to join the team in the changing rooms. Eddie who catches it and stuffs it in his pocket in the most dramatic way possible. Steve who laughs every time because he wouldn't have it any other way.
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jasper-pagan-witch · 2 years
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Library Tips For Magic Practitioners
As a Missouri librarian, I've gotten to know my library district pretty well. So here are some tips for you!
Tip 1: Dewey is your friend.
And by that I mean the Dewey Decimal System (a more in-depth list is in that link) is your friend. It breaks down as follows:
000: General Knowledge (encyclopedias, newspapers, almanacs, etc)
100: Psychology & Philosophy (feelings, logic, friendships, etc)
200: Religions & Mythology (Bible stories, Native American myths, classical mythology, etc)
300: Social Sciences & Folklore (families, career, money, government, etc)
400: Languages (English, Spanish, American Sign Language, grammar, etc)
500: Math & Science (arithmetic, animals, rocks, plants, fossils, etc)
600: Medicine & Technology (inventions, machines, farming, health, etc)
700: Arts & Recreation (crafts, painting, music, games, sports, etc)
800: Literature (poetry, plays, novels from other countries, etc)
900: Geography & History (countries, biographies, etc)
If you're looking for ghosts, divination, and witchcraft specifically, look around 133. That's where I've found most of my magic-based books to borrow. You'll also find books talking about people's near-death experiences or reincarnation around this point.
While fiction technically falls in the 800s, most libraries will have it separate from nonfiction. You may still find things like poems or memoirs in the nonfiction section. Some libraries will have the biographies separated into their own section. A few libraries (at least here in Missouri) will have state-specific sections where you can learn more about local stuff.
Tip 2: There are computers and printers to use.
If you can't research something at home for literally any reason, getting a library card will often grant you access to using the computers and printers in the library.
When using the printer, some libraries will charge based on how much ink you use, other libraries will charge based on how much paper you use, and other libraries will charge based on some other criteria.
Be aware that you lose access to these if you reach a certain level of overdue materials or money is charged to your library card until the materials are returned/paid for or the money is paid off. Luckily, librarians are here to help you and can tell you what's missing.
Tip 3: Libraries have more than books.
Seriously. The main branch of my library district has 3D printers, telescopes, gaming systems to use in-building, and more stuff that I didn't even pay attention to because I was scrambling to learn the behind-the-counter stuff. Feel free to ask us for something and we can see if it's in-county for ya!
Audiobooks are often available on CDs and in the form of Playaways, which are like MP3 players with a single book on them. You will need a wire-connected set of earbuds or a wire-connected headset and batteries. Some libraries sell earbuds, but not batteries.
Large Print books will often have their own special designation as LP, but more often they have their own shelf sections. You'll find a surprising number of Westerns there, but there are Large Print nonfiction books.
Tip 4: Requesting materials.
Not finding something you're looking for? Ask the front desk for help! In Missouri, we have the Missouri Evergreen system, which means we can borrow books from all over the state* on the topic you're looking for.
If we can't find it (or you're in a library that doesn't have such a monumental reach), then you can often fill out a book request form. We will then do our best to order the book for you - but be aware that it could take many months, and most of the time, people will cancel their order of the book well before our budget catches up or we even have time to get the book processed and integrated into the system. Patience is key when ordering a new book.
*At participating branches - not every library district in our state is part of Missouri Evergreen.
Tip 5: Self-checkout is a thing.
At least, it is here in Missouri. If you don't want to interact with the front desk, there are often self-checkout stations for books, DVDs, audiobooks, et cetera. Even my middle-of-nowhere branch has one!
Unfortunately, this won't work for other things, like updating your card once it expires or resolving monetary charges (which will both send you to the front desk).
Tip 6: Search the new shelves.
Some libraries like mine will have specially-designated "New Shelves", where you can find a lot of the most recent releases. If you're trying to find something in a particular number that you saw on the search but can't find it, it may be on the new shelf. These get cycled out whenever new books come in, which may mean that you have several months' worth of new releases to dig through.
In short, I hope this helps you in your search through the library! Best of luck to you!
~Jasper
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ignoremyworld · 3 months
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Remember me?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Eddie is a metal star living in New York and needed a bite to eat. It doesn’t get awkward until he runs into his past
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The streets of New York City were busy. Even at night. Of course the thousands of people taking pictures weren’t helping.
Eddie had just gotten done with his gig at Webster hall and decided to take a late night walk to get fresh air after being stuck, sweaty and gross on a stage for three hours. He was still wearing his outfit from the show, a pair of baggy cargo pants with his bandana tucked into his back pocket and his cuffs hanging off one of his belt loops, a cropped re designed version of the hellfire logo, a fishnet shirt under that and his hair up in a bun to get the sweat off his neck.
Even if the streets were busy he didn’t mind. Walking past shop after shop he’d look through the windows to see what kind of stuff they were selling. A sports memorabilia store selling sport cards and merch like hats and jerseys. A little yarn shop filled with different textures and colors. A subway shop that he desperately wanted to stop into and he would if he hadn’t forgotten his wallet.
Staring through the subway window he saw the cashier making their customer the desired sandwich. He watched as he, somewhat, skillfully put the cheese and meat onto the bread, taking some bacon and putting it in their weird microwave. Eddie’s stomach growled and as it did he remembered about Apple Pay. He had about $73 dollars left on there so he walked in and hoped they took tap.
Waiting in line he heard the door ring signaling someone had entered. Hearing their footsteps stomp behind him and a sharp breath was taken. As the line slowly moved forward, Eddie could hear the aforementioned guy behind him put his phone up to his ear as the ringing became muffled.
He heard the guy start to whisper to the recipient on the phone, curious but not enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. The few people in front of him had came and left and it was soon his turn. He wrapped up his order with a foot long, a cookie, chips and a drink. The took his phone out and got Apple Pay ready when the man that was behind him, now next to him, spoke.
“I’ll pay for it man” a deep voice had spoken up beside him.
The sound of gravelly morning voice made Eddie jolt. Taking him back to Hawkins. Laying in bed with…
“Steve” he said softly, his heart beating ten times faster than it was.
He turned his head to meet Steve’s eyes. Still brown like firewood after the flames have been put out. His hair had changed. What was once tall and fluffy, helped by Farrah fawcet spray, was now laying beside his cheeks with the tips dyed blue. He had gotten more freckles since the last time he saw him.
The last time Eddie had seen anyone really. He had left in the middle of the night to go with his band mates to start his dream job. No one knew he was gonna leave, he knew they’d make a big fuss about it and a part of him couldn’t stand the look that would have been on Steve’s face when he said he’d be leaving.
The cashier broke the long silence between them “so, which one of you is going to pay? There’s a line forming”
Steve walked up to the register and handed the man his card, not taking his eyes off Eddie.
“Been a bit hasn’t it” Steve said. Finally tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look literally anywhere else.
“Yeah. A bit” Eddie replied, a wave of guilt washing over him
“Seven years is a long time” Steve whispered, taking his card back from the cashier “and you never called” he said before walking out.
Eddie chased after him and caught his arm. Pulling him back
“I wanted to call! I really did but I knew you’d be mad at me. Just like you are now! I’m so so sorry Stevie.” He said feeling tears well in his eyes.
“Don’t call me that” Steve snapped “you lost that privilege when you left and didn’t say anything. Not even a note Eddie! You have no clue how hurt and worried I was about you. It wasn’t until rob had said she saw you on television that I knew you had left us. That you had left me” tears had started to slip from Steve’s eyes and Eddie desperately wanted to place his hand on steves cheek like he used to and kiss them away.
“I know stevi- Steve. I know. And I’m so incredibly sorry. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you.” Eddie had sighed and let go of Steve’s arm “but unless you let me, there’s no way I can fix what I did”
There was a silence. The sound of cars rushing by was the only thing that was heard between the two.
Steve broke the silence and said “you can start by coming home with me”
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
WELL that took such a long time. I want to start making longer stories and maybe continuous parts. Should I make a second part
And please any advice on writing or tips are appreciated as I’m still new to this.
Hope you liked it!
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ur-mag · 7 months
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Box of iconic trading cards sells for £10,000… if you were a 90s kid you could have treasure hiding in your attic | In Trend Today
Box of iconic trading cards sells for £10,000… if you were a 90s kid you could have treasure hiding in your attic Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS
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