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sweetiecutie · 4 months

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Warnings: pantie stealing and sniffing, masturbation, Simon has a crush on you, kinda softie! Simon

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who felt guilt pooling in his chest as he fisted his leaking cock violently, a pair of your pink frilly thongs that he pinched from laundry basket in you house was pressed against his nose, inhaling lungfuls of your soury scent. Bright blush covered his normally pale cheeks, honey-coloured eyes rolling back as Riley’s back arched, series of low groans and stifled moans slipping past his lips as hot cum shot out of his overstimulated cock, landing in small puddles on his pubic and tummy.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who could barely look you in the eyes the whole next week out of sheer shame and embarrassment, brushing you off whenever you tried talking to him. You pouted, not getting such wanted attention from your older brother’s broody best friend, just clicking your tongue as he openly ignored you, finally giving up and turning around on your heels, marching off to your room, snacks and mug of tea in your hands. If only you could see Simon’s eyes lingering longingly on the soft slope of your ass, trying to burn the image in his brain, you small booty shorts doing nothing to hide delicious plumpness of it.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who clenched his teeth tightly, breathing deeply through his nose to try and control himself as you sat on an arm of the armchair he was settled in, drunkenly babbling about some new movie you’ve been meaning to watch. He desperately tried not to look at your tits as you leant against the back of that damned armchair, your chest poking out of the deep cut of your crop top barely ten centimetres away from Simon’s head, basically inviting him to bury his face in beautiful softness of your boobs. But he just gripped his beer tighter, looking strictly in front of him and nodding absentmindedly at your words, subtly shuffling his hoody down to hide a growing tent in his pants.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon on whom you can always count. You need a drive back home after going out for drinks? He’s grabbing his car keys and telling you he’ll be there in a few minutes. Some weirdo has been bothering you at work/uni? Simon is discreetly asking bastard’s name as to not rise any suspicions in you, just to have a little friendly chat with him a bit later, making sure to break duchebag’s nose so he doesn’t stick it into your business anymore. There’s something off with your car and you need to get it fixed? How good that Simon is a handyman, bringing your car back to life not worse than any mechanic would (and he’s definitely not flexing his stupidly big biceps while doing it).

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who knew better than to make a move on you. He knew you liked him, and he liked you too (more like was totally obsessed). But he valued his best friend too much, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t appreciate it if Simon fucked his little sister.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who realised that he was absolutely, utterly, totally fucked as he watched you and your older brother roughhousing around the kitchen, bickering and play-fighting - your smile was so bright and warm, making him feel hot like sun in the middle of August, your loud laughter made his chest buzz with something soft and Riley felt as if he was about to pass out because of the flow of softness he felt for you that moment. Soon your eyes met his, mischievous smirk curled your pretty lips as you threw a pillow at him, surely dragging Simon into your little brawl, creating a huge mess for which all three of you will surely get a good scolding from your mom.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who tried to distance himself from you because you deserved more than him. He genuinely did try to ignore all your soft smiles and fleeting touches, the way you batted you pretty eyelashes as you listened to him explaining something to you or the way you would nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes wandered up and down his torso as he wore one of his compression shirts. Simon did try his best to save you from himself, but all of his resolve vanished completely and utterly the moment you got brave enough to stand to your tippy toes and press a tentative kiss to his chapped lips.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who scooped you up in his arms, giving you no chance to escape as he deepened the kiss, moaning quietly into your mouth as you let his tongue in, greedy hands roaming up and down your body, feeling all the curves and dips of it - just like he dreamt of doing past few years. Simon barely registered pressing you against the wall, meaty forearms boxing you as his torso pressed against yours, grinding his boner against your tummy, goosebumps running up his spine as he felt your small arms gripping on his sides, pressing him closer to yourself.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who broke off your kiss, a silver strand of saliva connected your lips as he gazed deeply in your eyes, blush on your face made him feel warm and proud. He pressed his lips against your forehead, nosing at your hair and inhaling sweet scent of your shampoo. Withdrawing back for just a few centimetres he muttered in his raspy breathy voice “Go out with me”

Likes, reblogs and comment are highly appreciated, give writers some love!🩷 I’m thinking about making part 2, let me know what you think<3

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nba24highlights · 1 year

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IM STILL HIM! KING JAMES Lebron James Bulls his way to the basket through Dillon Brooks chest scored go up 3-1 in the series! 2023 #NBA24Highlights #shorts #dillonbrooks #lebronjames #lebron #nbahighlights #nba24highlights #NBA24Highlights #NBA , #BASKETBALL , #FIGHT , #BRAWL , #FUNNY , #BLOOPERS, #REACTION, #ALL STAR, #DUNKCONTEST, #GAMEWINNER , #BUZZERBEATER , #LIVE , #GOAT , #ESPN , #INTERVIEW , #INJURY , #HOUSEOFHIGHLIGHTS , #MIX , #HIGHLIGHTS , #TOP10 ,#TOP10OFTHEYEAR , #FINALS , #TOPPLAYS , #FIRSTTAKE , #2K21 , #SPORTS , #NBATV, #TNT , #DUNKS , #COMPILATION , #BESTPLAYS , #Sports , #nbamix , #nbahighlights , #bestnbaplays , #topplays , #nbadunks , #Stephcurry , #Stephencurry , #curryhighlights , #currycrazyshots , #curryallstar , #currymvp , #currycompilation , #bestofcurry , #NBA , #NBA Highlights , #NBA Videos , #KingSwish, #HouseOfHighlights , #NBAMoments , #NBA History ,#Top10NBA , #Top100NBA , #GoldenHoops , #Basketball , #ThrowbackHighlights , #NBA Mix , #NBACompilation , #StephenCurryhighlights , #StephenCurrymix , #StephenCurrybestplays , #Stephen Currywarriors, #StephenCurrytop100 , #StephenCurryanklebreaker, #StephenCurry47points, #Stephen Curryreaction , #StephenCurryhalfcourtshot , #StephenCurry2k23 , #StephenCurryallstar2022 , #stephcurry #stephcurry30 #nba24highlights #NBA24Highlights #nba24highlights #NBA24Highlights #nba24highlights #NBA24Highlights #nba24highlights #NBA24H

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outpastthemoat · 2 months

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fathers.

Sometimes Aang and his friends take turns guessing at how Zuko got the scar that covers half his face, at night when they are wrapped up in their blankets and curled up sleepily next to the fire, or during the long monotonous hours they spend leaning against the side of Appa’s saddle as they follow along the rugged coastline of the Mo Ce Sea.

A freak training accident—an ugly street brawl—bested in a duel (surely not difficult to do, sniffs Katara)—insulted the wrong person at the wrong time—Agni himself decided to teach him a lesson. Katara thinks the first explanation is the most likely. Aang himself can't decide.

"Tripped over his own stupid pointy boots during a battle," Sokka says scornfully, "and fell flat on his face. Idiot."

They’ve heard all kinds of rumors, from idle gossip among bored fishmongers and spice traders to irreverent speculation by Fire Nation soldiers and guards. None of the explanations ever match up, and some of the theories are ridiculously far-fetched, but the sound of Zuko’s name always makes them freeze, as though the word might conjure up the prince himself. But none of these theories are anything like the truth.

They find out in the market of an Earth Kingdom village. Katara is filling her basket up with fruits, melon-cumbers and appleberries and mango-pears, while Sokka bargains for fresh filleted elephant-koi. Aang is happily browsing a selection of colorful glass beads, combing his fingers through the bright greens and yellows, when he overhears Zuko's name.

“Have you heard about the banished prince caught sailing in Archipelago waters?” one elderly man says to another over their game of pai sho, and Aang stops in his tracks. “Seems like he’s now displeased his father even more than he already has. Think the Fire Lord will finish what he started and scorch off the rest of the brat's face this time?”

The old men laugh heartily, and bend back over their game. Aang goes on standing there, frozen in confusion and a steadily growing dismay. But that means, he thinks. That means... He shakes his head. No, it couldn’t mean what he thinks. He must have misunderstood. But a quick glance around at the stunned faces of his friends tells him that he hadn’t.

Quietly they gather up their purchases and walk back to camp. No one says a word, not even Katara.

“It doesn't make a difference,” Sokka says suddenly that night, hunched over their fire. He doesn't have to specify what he’s talking about. They’ve all been thinking it. “He’s still a jerk who wants to capture Aang. He’s still the enemy.”

But it does, Aang thinks. And the next time Zuko catches up to them, he finds himself looking closer at the scar that twists one side of Zuko’s face into an unnatural grimace, imagining that he can see the shape of a man’s hand in the dark, mottled skin and the blistered remnant of ear. And maybe that’s why he goes easy on Zuko this time, doesn’t spin his staff and and send the sharp blast of air that would have sent Zuko slamming against the stone wall behind him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Aang can’t help thinking that maybe Zuko’s been hurt enough.

You don't understand about fathers, Zuko had said to him the first time Aang had met him. Back then, Aang had thought it was an insult, to show off the power and prestige that comes with inheriting such a title, a boast about everything that Zuko had and that Aang did not.

Now he thinks Zuko might have meant something quite different. That Zuko had been talking about what a father might do to their son, as a punishment for disobedience.

Aang closes his eyes and takes himself back to that moment in the South Pole, and hears Zuko's grave, quiet voice saying those words again. Maybe, he thinks, maybe it was as close as Zuko could ever come to an apology, for doing what he thought he had to do.

Late that night, when he's warm and sleepy and curled up against Appa’s furry side, Aang tries to picture Gyatso, the closest thing he’d ever had to a father, ever striking him—even just a light, stinging slap across the face. But he just can’t do it.

And Aang knows then Zuko had been right about him. He doesn’t understand about fathers after all.

#aang #zuko #atla #outpastthemoat fics

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mediummaraboutdako · 2 years

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BAGUE DES JEUX DE HASARD DU MEDIUM JEAN DAKO

BAGUE DES JEUX DE HASARD DU MEDIUM JEAN DAKO Cette bague magique est un pouvoir conçu pour les jeux de hasard. IL s’agit de la plus ancienne bague, mystique et plus puissant anneau magique. Cette BAGUE MAGIQUE avec son TALISMAN. Est un article conçu par le grand maitre marabout voyant compétent papa MEDIUM jean dako pour les jeux de hasard. Ce pourvoir organisé par les grands magiciens…

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rorywritesjunk · 3 months

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So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

It's the three year anniversary since everything changed in Buggy's life for the worst.

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe. Warning: Angst. References to Roger's death, Buggy and Shanks' fight, there's mention of teasing, there's a protective friend, Buggy has Big Feelings, yells at Reader. There's tears. A/N: A request from the lovely @chochotorianime10 who wanted a young Buggy with an s/o who is like Kagura from Fruits Basket, who is the Boar in the zodiac. Buggy in this fic is 19, full of angst. He just wants a drink. Honestly these two probably both need some kind of therapy, especially Buggy. Title comes from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men.

It had been three years since Roger’s execution and the falling out between two friends, but you saw how Buggy’s eyes still flashed whenever he heard mention of Red Haired Shanks or saw a straw hat or anything that could remind him of the friend he once had. You had remained by his side after that, despite being friends with the two of them at a time. Love made a person do silly things and with how much you loved Buggy, you turned your back on Shanks when you saw how hurt Buggy was after their fight.

And it didn’t help that you loved Buggy so much that sometimes your emotions got the better of you. You were in a pub with him, bringing drinks to your shared table to help him feel better when you overheard someone make a passing comment about the clown over there in the corner lookin’ sad, aren’t clowns supposed to be happy and funny?

And well, your nickname on the Oro Jackson had been The Boar with the way you often charged forward into chaos without much thought and this was no different. You didn’t even make it to the table before you swung one of the bottles around, striking the stranger in the face and knocking him back into his friend.

“Say that again, asshole!” You snapped as arms encircled you, pulling you away from the fight that was about to start. It was the third anniversary of That Day and Buggy wasn’t in the mood for a fight, even if he wasn’t involved in it.

He dragged you out of the pub before the guy’s friends could retaliate, pulling you down the street and ducking into an alleyway. You managed to get out of his grasp to peer around the corner, grumbling about asshole drunks before looking back at Buggy with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?” You asked, demeanour opposite of how it was seconds ago. He just stared at you before shaking his head.

“I wanted a drink, why did you have to do that!” He demanded angrily, clenching his fists. “Where else am I going to go?!”

“There’s another pub down the street, looks better anyways.” You chuckled, not bothered by his tone. He seethed, teeth clenched as he glared at you. You just smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my love. We’ll get you good and drunk to forget what the day is.”

He glared and shrugged your hand off. Today wasn’t the day he wanted to put up with your antics. This was the one day of the year where he wanted to be miserable, to mourn for what life had been, not drag you away from a brawl because you overheard him being insulted by some drunkard.

“I'm going to find a different place.” He grumbled as he started for the street, but your hand grabbed his and stopped him. He jerked his hand out of your grasp and spun around to yell at you to just leave him alone for a few seconds, but he bit his tongue when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“I'm sorry, Buggy.” You sniffled as you reached for his hand once again. “I just… that guy said somethin’ mean about you and I couldn't stand it. I hate it when people are mean to you.”

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before counting to three, exhaling slowly before he opened his eyes. You always looked out for him ever since the two of you met as children on the ship. The first time you heard someone make a jab about Buggy’s appearance you kicked the person so hard in the kneecap it shattered. You were ten. The crew started calling you The Boar affectionately shortly after that with how you attacked anyone without warning when it came to Buggy.

“Yea, well! Keep it together at the next place.” He snapped. “Don't get us run out of every pub in this town, okay?! I want to actually enjoy my drinks!”

You nodded, still holding his hand while your other hand wiped away the tears in your eyes. “I miss’im.”

“Yea, I do too.” Buggy mumbled as he started for the street again, tugging you along with him. While you drove him crazy, he was happy to have you with him, and the fact you chose him over Shanks made him feel a bit better about how everything went after the fight. You always chose Buggy over Shanks no matter what the situation was, even down to a stupid argument between the two and Shanks was right, you still agreed with Buggy.

“I'll make you breakfast tomorrow.” You told him as you trailed behind him, still holding his hand. He sighed and pulled you close so you walked beside him, not wanting his arm stretched that far back. Sure, he could pop his hand off and you could hold it for him, but he hated that. He wanted you by his side, not behind him.

“You don't have to.” Buggy mumbled. You looked at him, biting your bottom lip.

“But I wanna.”

He looked at you with a frown. You weren't the worse cook, the food was kind of edible, but you two had a room at a nearby inn that offered breakfast and well, Buggy planned to load a bag up of rolls and anything else that would keep so he wouldn't have to have your cooking.

“The inn offers breakfast.” He reminded you. “Just… don't worry about it.”

“Buggyyyyyy, can I at least fix your plate in the morning?” You begged, hand in yours as you swung your arm back and forth as you two made your way to the next pub. “You know I'll make it with lots of love.”

Ugh, love. You said that to him enough that he figured you must mean it, but he maybe said it once to you. It wasn't that he didn't have some kind of love for you, he just wasn't really sure how to define whatever the relationship between the two of you actually was. He never bothered to flirt with anyone, even if you weren't around, because no one would reciprocate. Often they'd just laugh at him, thinking it was a joke, and hide their snide comments to their friends behind their hands while Buggy walked away.

Shanks always made it look so easy. He had always ended up with a pretty girl on his lap or in his arms while the three of you would go to a pub together. You were all young and dumb, unaware of what was coming to tear you all apart, but it was all in good fun. There were times Shanks tried to hug you or give you a kiss on the cheek in front of Buggy, but you would always laugh and punch him in the shoulder before he could, not paying attention to the anger and jealousy in Buggy’s eyes.

He wasn't really sure what he was jealous about at the time. Was it Shanks trying to be too friendly with you or was it the fact Shanks could have anyone but he was going after you? Buggy couldn't understand why he had felt that way, and years later he wondered if he was still in denial in some way.

He wasn't in love with you, he was positive of that, because while he appreciated you stuck around there were times he wondered if it was out of pity for him. Did you think he wasn't capable of taking care of himself? You were always there for him, ready to take someone down, and he knew growing up that others didn't think he could.

But you knew he could, you just didn't want him to do it alone.

“Buggggyyyy?” You asked in a sing-song voice as you two made your way to the next pub. He glanced at you with a frown while you looked at him with big, hopeful eyes. “Can… can I have a kiss?

“What?! Why?!” He demanded. “Why do you want one?!”

“B-Because that's what people do when they're in love.” You mumbled, suddenly averting your gaze from him as you looked down at your feet as your cheeks turned bright red. “I see couples do it all the time, y’know, and… and wished we would.”

“We are not a couple!” He shrieked, patience vanishing at the request and the look in your eyes for him. “Why the hell would you think that?! I don't love you!”

He dropped your hand and took a step back, breathing heavily as he glared at you. The silence was deafening, you were looking at him with big, surprised eyes. Was that too far this time? He often lost his temper but this was the first time he spoke to you like that.

When you didn't respond, he started to panic just a bit. Now you would leave him too, just like Shanks, because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. He hated that you weren't talking just then, this had to be the longest period you've ever been quiet for when you weren't sleeping.

“Wi-Will you say something?!” He demanded, clenching his fists tightly as he narrowed his eyes. “I just said I don't love you, okay, so you might as well just leave me alone now! Like everyone else!”

You lifted your hands up to his face and he started to take a step back; he knew your strength, he awaited the blows you would surely deliver, and when your fingers touched his skin, your palms pressing against his cheeks, he flinched, trying to jerk away.

“Buggy, it's okay.” You told him calmly, and he hated the soothing sound of your voice just then. He needed you to be mad at him, shrieking with the same intensity you showed for that man back at the pub, yet your tone was quieter, comforting him like you had many times before. “It's… it's okay.”

“No, no it's not.” He snapped back as he tried to pull away from you. “You should just leave me already! Everyone else has!”

You wouldn't let him get away, instead dropping your hands to his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He didn't fight you too hard to get away, the frustration and anger bubbling to the surface his arms wrapped around you. Buggy didn't want you to go, he didn't want to be alone. Today was a hellish day, the events years ago replaying in his mind every waking moment, but you stayed by his side no matter what he said to you, taking his emotions in stride.

“I'm not leaving you.” You assured him as you tightened your arms around him.

“Why not?! You should!” Buggy shot back as tears welled up in his eyes. “I don't understand why you stick around, I don't love you!”

“That's okay.”

He didn't miss the hitch in your voice when you said that or your own tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You still managed to smile at him despite what he just said.

“I still love you, Buggy, because I know you need someone to.” You sniffled. “I know you don't mean it.”

His eyes widened slightly and he stopped fighting to get away. He hesitated when he hugged you. He didn't deserve your kindness, he never did, but you still stuck around. He let the tears fall, not bothering to hide them, knowing you were the only person he trusted to see him this vulnerable.

“Let’s go get a drink, okay?” You suggested as you pulled back from the hug a few minutes later, once the tears stopped for the two of you. “I’ll be good this time.”

Buggy sniffed, rubbing his nose before wiping his hand on his shirt with a shrug, trying to ignore the fact he was just crying. You used the hem of your shirt to wipe your own face before smiling up at Buggy. He looked away from you and crossed his arms.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He mumbled as he started walking again; you trailed after him, linking your arm around his. He didn’t say anything or try to pull away. “You… you were defending me. S’okay.”

You giggled and slipped your arm away from his, slapping your hand against his shoulder lovingly, causing Buggy to stumble a bit from the force. He bit back a retort, letting you once more link your arm with his as the two of you headed for the next pub.

He wondered if he was going to regret this, but he suddenly turned to face you, pecking you on the cheek so quickly you weren’t even sure he actually made contact with your skin, but you weren’t going to point it out. You just hugged his arm and let your head rest against his shoulder as the two of you walked along, and while it may take Buggy some time to admit it, he loved that you stuck around for him, took care of him, and put up with him, and he figured at some point he may tell you that he loves you, but it would have to wait.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

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orange-demons · 4 days

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Wasted Summers

you and bosch being kids. mostly platonic. wasted summers - juju inspired by @descendingarrow when they said they were making a nayshalli oc and it got me thinking what you and bosch would be like as kids.

You followed him like a lost puppy everywhere he went.

He tried many times to dump you on someone else: Amma, your mom, the neighbors, anyone. But you still wanted to stick by him.

When jumping on the metal roofs of the Lowlands, he had to wait for you to shuffle down before jumping down another couple of steps.

Which got on his nerves because of how long you were taking.

He thought about leaving you to do his own things but could only imagine what Amma would say, leaving another kid alone.

So he begrudgingly waited for you to catch up to him.

But he warmed up to you after a couple of older kids were picking on him.

They would rip the toys from his hands and play with them until they broke.

Bosch wasn't going to let it slide, so he did the only reasonable thing and tried to fight them.

Of course, being smaller he stood no chance. But when you saw him fighting with the other street kids, you jumped into the brawl.

Yeah, it was a stupid idea you had in the spur of the moment but it eventually scared off the older kids when they thought they could get away with it.

Cue your mother's scolding you two when you came back home beaten and bruised.

But after that, he didn't push you away so often anymore.

He would take you to the Lowlands and explore the gutter system with you, playing with glass bottles and worn-out tires.

You used bottle caps as currency, trading with Bosch for a random piece of trash.

For example: 3 caps for some old batteries. Or 5 caps for a square of bubble wrap.

He hissed in pain when he felt a stabbing sensation graze his leg.

He kicked the sharp plastic sticking out on the floor. “Dumb plastic.”

Seeing him kick the rubble of trash, you decided to kick it too.

He laughed at you and he jumped deeper into the pile.

Since you two were making a big racket, the people who lived nearby shooed you off.

He wanted to show you the cool caves in Mt. Vashal, but the construction workers always denied you two whenever you got too close.

He’s also the one to help you tie your Chuba when your mother is too busy with other things. Bosch always wore it differently, so he’ll tie it to match how he’s wearing it that day.

You scared him once when he saw your beady eyes peering at him from his window.

His scream woke his Amma up.

At least she found it endearing, because he was definitely yelling at you.

Maybe you do have separation issues.

On hot days, you both would lie on the floor and lay around until his Amma made him do something.

Sometimes you would help him replace the offerings on the family altar inside his home.

You hold out the bottom of your shirt to use as a makeshift basket so bosch can give you the older ones.

After the edible offerings were replaced, you two would make your way to feed the wild Yaks.

He laughed when one licked your fingers, making you drop the rest of the fruits in surprise.

But the moment was ruined when another Yak licked his face when he got too close to the fence, making him yelp.

You would lounge by the market during peak hours and wait for people to drop their change or any valuable items that fell on the floor.

He got daring with a particular food stand, causing the Shopkeeper to grab Bosch by the collar.

Panicking you bit down on the man’s hand, making him howl in pain.

He instantly let go, dropping Bosch to the ground.

Taking this as an opportunity, you both bolted out of there.

Only hearing the distant shouts from the market.

You both slowed down as you got closer to your houses.

You and Bosch were out of breath and tired from all the running.

“Thanks for helping me out back there. But you didn’t need to, I had everything under control.” he said.

“No you didn’t.” You replied as he rolled his eyes.

He pulled the Momos from his belt pocket and held one out to you.

“I’d say this was a good trip, and thanks to you I was able to grab more while the old man was crying in pain.” he laughed. “Wanna share?”

You smiled, accepting the savory treat.

Well turns out, that Shopkeeper you bit knows Bosch’s mom personally.

So you both knew you would be in trouble when he showed up at Bosch’s doorstep.

After a very long lecture from your parents and the Shopkeeper, you two had to make 100 Momos for him to sell as your punishment, making you and Bosch groan.

Well, it could’ve been worse.

The next day, Bosch's Amma helped prepare the Yak meat. While you and him rolled out the dough and filled the insides with the raw paste.

He got tired after a while and you sprawled yourself over your work area whining about how much your hands hurt.

Your mom reminded you that you and Bosch have to repay Tsanpa-La after causing a commotion yesterday.

Bosch rested his cheek on the table saying “It’s not like we’re the only ones doing that, other kids are doing it too.”

“Yeah, but those other kids probably aren't going to be an older brother soon. So you need to set an example for your younger sibling.”

He begrudgingly helped fill the rest of the dough.

Your mom made you and Bosch walk to Shopkeeper Tsanpa’s stand and give him your Momos in person. After forcing you two to bow to him.

As you got closer, he would start sharing food with you.

Amma gave him enough money for some Dzomo Yogurt.

He saw the way your eyes linger on the same stand every time you two pass the market, so he got one.

He would eat a spoonful and pass it to you. Then you would do the same, and pass it back to him.

When you get some on your face, he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe your mouth.

He sat next to you during breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Basically, any time you both were sitting, he was right next to you.

He would lead you to the staircase overlooking the lake and he taught you how to skip rocks. It took a couple of days but when you skipped your first one, all the rocks you and bosch were holding fell to the floor as you two celebrated in excitement.

You would sometimes stop and pick up the glass on the ground, telling Bosch that they looked like diamonds. Which also made him collect them.

When you two collected a decent amount, you both presented them to his Amma hoping it would make her feel better during her pregnancy.

You asked your mom if you and Bosch can have a sleepover. She said “If Bosch is okay with it, then it’s fine with me.”

Which prompted you to ambush him while he was eating, almost making him choke on his food.

From then on, you and Bosch slept together in the same room every time you had sleepovers.

Granted it got messy, so you and him would have to clean it before you go outside.

You liked to give fruits to the langurs that lingered around the market.

You thought they were so cute when their cheeks puffed up when eating. Especially this one gray langur you decided to name, Dawa, because of his silver fur.

Apparently, you did it so often that he now expects fruit from you every time you visit.

Bosch found out the hard way when you two were eating apples by Shopkeeper Tsanpa-La’s stand. And Dawa swooped down to take the apple from his hands.

Bosch chased him around for a bit before Dawa decided to sit on the cable line and eat it in front of Bosch.

Other times when it got hot, you would sit by the Kulfi stand and wait for the owner to open, so you could get first pick.

But the combined money you and Bosch was enough for only one.

Whoever won rock paper scissors that day, ultimately chose the flavor you two would share.

Finally, no one is allowed to pick on you unless they want to deal with Bosch. Not kids. Not adults. No one.

So if they had a problem with you, they had a problem with him.

amma-In tibet, children call their mother amma (媽).

momo- are a type of steamed filled dumpling in tibetan and nepali cuisine that is also popular in neighboring bhutan and india

dzomo yogurt- yogurt that comes from a hybrid between the yak and domestic cattle

#street fighter x reader #bosch x reader #bosch waraya #bosch waraya x reader #sf x reader #sf6 x reader #street fighter bosch #street fighter #street fighter bosch waraya #street fighter 6 x reader #street fighter 6

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goatcheesecak3 · 4 months

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Hot head

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x M!reader

Click here for F!reader version!

Includes: angst, fluff, braid mention of physical altercation (not between Adam and reader)

Summary: after a brawl at a bar, Adam is left feeling hot-headed and angry, unfairly snapping at his partner.

"Adam please just calm down!" Y/n pleaded, his voice quivering.

"Calm down? Are you fucking kidding me?" Adam yelled, slamming the apartment door behind him as the two entered.

"Why do you always have to undermine me like that? I had it all under control" he continued.

"No you didn't, Adam you're hammered and you were gonna get yourself hurt" y/n insisted, tears welling in his eyes.

"I can't be around you when you're like this, I'm going to bed. Don't follow me" Adam snarled, as he huffed away to the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

Y/n's boyfriend, Adam, was a tetchy guy. He really was the loveliest guy you could ever meet, but he had issues with his anger. He'd had them ever since he was a kid, probably due to the fact that his dad was nothing short of an asshole, but as he grew older he managed to get his temper under control. That was until he reached his mid twenties and went through a particularly traumatic event; being kidnapped by a serial killer and only narrowly escaping with his life. Ever since then his temper had a hair trigger.

On this particular occasion, it was a Friday, date night for Adam and y/n. They'd gone to a hole in the wall bar just to have a few rounds before heading home, but of course, Adam had overdone it. He wasn't necessarily acting too out of the ordinary, just drunk, which was fine, it was a Friday and he didn't need to be up early the next day. But alcohol made Adam's already short temper even shorter, it took very little to get him agitated, and when a lairy drunk man nudged Adam and sneered "ain't you that guy from the news that went and got himself kidnapped?" Adam completely lost it.

"The fuck did you just say to me?" He spat with an aggressive shove

"You heard me" the drunkard jeered

"Baby, please let's just go" y/n whispered, tugging at Adam's arm, who immediately shook him off.

"You wanna take this outside asshole?" Adam yelled, drawing attention to their squabble now.

The man threw his head back laughing, "Fuck are you gonna do to me you skinny prick?" He shoved Adam back, and in his drunken state, Adam lost his footing and stumbled backwards.

Feeling humiliated and enraged, Adam lunged at the man, landing a hefty punch on his right cheek. The man, who didn't take so kindly to this, grabbed Adam by the scruff of the neck and punched back. This went back and forth until Adam and the man were practically a cloud of fists and hurled obscenities, all to y/n's horror, as he pleaded for them to stop through tears.

Eventually, a rather burly bartender got between them and peeled the two off of eachother. Y/n apologised for the commotion and dragged a still very firey Adam out of the bar.

The couple argued the whole short walk home, Adam adamant that y/n should have just let him knock that asshole out, and y/n tearfully insisting that Adam would have gotten himself hurt, which brings us up to speed.

"I can't be around you when you're like this, I'm going to bed. Don't follow me" Adam snarled, as he huffed away to the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

Y/n sat down on the sofa and let out a few small, quiet sobs. He pulled a nightshirt and an old blanket out of the laundry basket and settled in on the couch, ready for a long and uncomfortable night.

Writhing around in the darkness, y/n wrestled with his racing mind trying to find sleep, to no avail. He hated when he and Adam went to bed mad at eachother, and he hated Adam when he raised his voice. He hated this entire night, and desperately just wanted to get to sleep so that it would be over.

Creeeeaaaak

Y/n became aware of floorboards creaking from down the hall near the bedroom, he figured it was just Adam getting up to use the bathroom.

Creeeeaaaak

That was strange, they were getting closer.

Y/n closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting round two of the argument right at the minute. He heard Adam step closer still, until he was most definitely stood right next to the sofa, looking over him. Y/n wasn't sure where this was going, but still, he pretended to be asleep. That was when he felt something he didn't at all expect; Adam's arms began to cradle his body and lift it up, carrying him to the bedroom gently. Y/n felt himself be placed so very carefully on the mattress, and tucked in under the warm sheets. Adam sat on the side of the bed stroking his hair and whispering so quietly that he almost didn't hear him.

"I don't deserve you, but i want to. I'll get my temper under control, I'll be a better man for you. I don't wanna loose you baby" he breathed, unaware that y/n was hearing the whole thing.

He pressed a soft kiss onto y/n's temple with the most quiet "I love you".

"I love you too" y/n whispered back.

Adam's face flushed red, as he looked down into y/n's now open eyes.

"H... how long have you been awake?"

"The whole time" he smiled warmly.

Adam's gaze softened at her smile.

"I'm sorry baby, I really am. How can I make it up to you?"

Y/n thought for a second, before he settled on an answer.

"Well for starters, you can get under here with me and give me a cuddle" he said, lifting up the blankets and patting the empty spot beside him.

"Sure thing babe" Adam whispered affectionately, his face angelic and soft.

He slipped under the covers next to y/n and held him tightly all night, as though he'd truly realised just how precious the man sleeping next to him really was, and he was never going to let him go.

A/n requests are open! Check pinned post for details and masterlist <3

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #saw adam #adam faulkner #adam faulkner x reader #adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #saw 2004 #sawposting #saw #x you #x male reader #x reader #fluff #angst

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loooongfurby4444 · 4 months

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Hatchetverse Headcanons: Day 19

The Lipschitz

1. Trevor and Richie are twins, Trevor is seven minutes older the Richie, Trevor’s favorite number

2. Mr. Lipschitz is kinda abusive

3. Richie and Trevor used to have bunkbeds, Richie was bottom bunk because he is afraid of heights

4. Trevor is on the swim team

5. Mrs. Lipschitz is very protective of her sons, but kinda a Karen to everyone else

6. They are Jewish

7. Trevor worked at Pizza Pete’s before he got fired for brawling with Max Jägerman

8. Trevor is a band kid who has trouble with English, Richie helps tutor him

9. Richie has one of those pin backpacks and half the pins are from Hot Topic

10. Richie’s favorite Anime is Attack on Titan and Fruit Basket

11. Both Richie and Trevor have Autism

12. Trevor is ace and gay and Richie is the only person Trevor has told

13. Richie wants to be a Physicist when he is older

14. Richie’s mom packs his lunch every day because Richie doesn’t eat the cafeteria food.

15. I love the headcanon that Richie came up with some cringe ass anime name for himself and his mom reeled him in to Richard

#hatchetblr #hatchetfield starkid #hatchetfield universe #hatchetfield series #hatchetverse #hatchetfield #hatchetfield headcanon #headcannons #headcanon #richie lipschitz #trevor lipschitz #Lipschitz

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scaredysap · 10 months

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"Oh my god, is this really a situation worthy of the moping-hoodie?"

"Yes! Yes, it is," Wu Xie plopped down at the kitchen table and dramatically crossed his arms. "I'm tired of people telling me I should date Xiaoge, it gets awkward every time!"

"I don't know, Tianzhen, I think they might have a point." Wu Xie glared at Pangzi's back but the man kept on peacefully chopping vegetables. "You've got that whole bond thing going on, and you spend a lot of time staring at his abs whenever his shirt is off."

"Everyone stares at his abs, they're objectively perfect."

"Fair enough," Pangzi conceded with a shrug. "What about your important bond though? That sounds pretty intense every time you bring it up."

Wu Xie sank into his chair and pulled up his hood. Then he lowered it again, realizing that the instinctual gesture was very much like the one Xiaoge did when he was uncomfortable. Pangzi hadn't seen it but he sure would have commented on it if he had, Wu Xie was sure about that.

"It is intense. But it's not dating, it's just… different," he said, twirling one of the strings of his hoodie around a finger. "I don't really want to dress fancy and go to dinner with him, I don't want to send him a good morning text every day, I don't want to kiss him. Sure, getting him to hug more would be nice but-"

"But that's why you've got me! I’m always ready to hug my poor, misunderstood Tianzhen," Pangzi intervened. He left his spot at the counter for a moment to give Wu Xie a one-armed hug, putting a brief smile back on his face.

"Yeah, exactly. The thing is… we're fine as we are. We’re there for each other when it counts. Nothing else is needed, we've figured out where we stand."

"Alright then, that's good," Pangzi said, picking the next vegetable from the basket he'd brought from the market. "I was just making sure."

It was quiet for a few moments, the rhythmic tac tac tac of the knife against the cutting board a soothing sound that filled the evening.

"But seriously, you don't wanna kiss him even a little bit?"

"PANGZI!"

"I'm just saying-!"

Wu Xie huffed, throwing his hands up in the air and almost sliding off the chair in disappointment.

"You're unbelievable. If you keep bringing this up, I’m going to start believing you're the one who wants to kiss Xiaoge!"

The chopping stopped. The kitchen became dead quiet. Wu Xie rewinded his words in his mind and then slowly but surely turned to stare at Pangzi's back.

"Pangzi," he said quietly, watching the big man's shoulders go tense. "Do you want to kiss Xiaoge?"

The silence was damning.

"HAH!" Wu Xie's chortling filled the kitchen as Pangzi turned towards him, his face as red as the chili peppers that were going into their food.

"Shut up, Tianzhen! What do you even know about these things?"

"Not a lot, but you sure aren’t an expert either! Thinking that I wanted to date Xiaoge when all this time you…!"

Wu Xie started laughing again, clutching his belly as it ached with cramps.

"Tianzhen!" Pangzi hissed, half crawling all over Wu Xie to try and put a hand over his mouth. "You quit yapping right now, Xiaoge could hear you!"

"You wanna kiss him soooo bad! Ow!" Wu Xie yelped, clutching his shoulder. "You idiot, you poked me with the knife!"

"Serves you ri- OUCH! Tianzhen, did you just bite me?"

"So what if I did, huh?"

"You rabid beast, I'll show you!"

As bickering and sounds of a brawl filled the kitchen, quiet footsteps went unheard in the hallway just outside. Xiaoge put his boots back on with expert ease and soon he was out into the night, headed towards the trio's favourite take-away restaurant. From the sounds of it, dinner wouldn't be ready any time soon.

He walked with a single objective in mind but still, he couldn't help but raise a hand to his own lips and wonder what it would feel like to be kissed.

#wu xie #wang pangzi #zhang qiling #dmbj #the lost tomb #fic #my fic #aromantic wu xie

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maleyanderecafe · 1 year

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Froot Basket: Dark Chocolate (Visual Novel)

Created by: xxmissarichanxx

Genre: Horror

I actually was waiting for this one to come out when I heard it was first announced and I'm really happy I did because this game is fantastic. It's a lot less comedic than the original game, Froot Basket Valentine, and it gives much more context to Momotaru, the yandere in question. For this game you actually play as him, attempting to summon a demon. This is one of the few games where I still didn't get all of the achievements for, so hopefully I didn't miss anything too major that might change what happens. The main one I'm missing is the basketball achievement because that minigame is way too hard to beat. If you'd like more information on the Froot Basket games please look at @xxmissarichanxx for more.

The game summary for this might be a little strange since the game runs in a time loop with the dialogue changing slightly when replayed. I'll note the differences after I go with the normal route as well as what happens in the endings (or at least I'll try because I can't seem to get the full ending for it). There are a lot of other small things I'll try to explain as well, since it depends on where you go during each day.

The story starts out initially with Momotaru waking up to find Jordan worried about him. Apparently, the two had just performed a ceremony with a demon, though it doesn't seem to have worked. Momotaru ends up passing out due to a nosebleed and ends up in the infirmary after, where he hears Spine and Dr. Ringo chatting with each other. Dr. Ringo tries to get him to go home since he's not in such good shape, but Momotaru decides to head to the basketball game anyways. Momotaru goes to watch Jordan as now they are a candidate for the next captain of the basketball team and admires them from . Momotaru ends up joining the team, though fails to stay as he ends up nearly passing out again, forcing Coach Paer to kick him out. Jordan comforts Momotaru afterwards, melting his heart. Momotaru then laments about how he's an outcast, and he shows how jealous he is towards Sutoro, someone that Jordan has a crush on. During lunch he learns about how Spine and Dr. Ringo are dating. Dr. Ringo informs Momo to go home, but Momo refuses as he wants to spend more time with Jordan. As he hears whispers in his head, he searches for either Jordan or Spine. Fighting with Spine reveals that the two are brawling to help Jordan with basketball, while finding Jordan instead makes him find Sutoro, who tells him to stay away from Jordan as he's done pretty terrible things to others in the past. Either way, Jordan ends up handing the demon book that started the mess to Momo. Momo ends up going to the bathroom where they did the ritual to find out what's going on, only to find that the demon the two summoned has attached himself to Momo. Momo asks the demon to make Jordan love him and only him in exchange for getting bits of hair, spit, sweat and other things for the demon. Reading the book shows that having the love potion to work requires them to be fed it slowly. The rest of the game requires the player to get these pieces from the people around them, at least until Halloween where the ritual is performed. Failing it will cause Momo to continually repeat the same cycle over and over again.

There are a couple of differences in the second time around, where Momo remembers the days events and tries to bypass them, as well as moments where the demon attempts to take control of Momo. He also realizes that the pieces he's gathering from others are to make the Demon a body. When done correctly and with all of the parts, Momo will continually feed Jordan the love potion so that they forget all those around them. This leads to the events of the last game, as well as the true ending where Momo is found unmoving on the floor. If the player does not get everything in time, the spell doesn't work and Jordan will still befriend the others like in the original game. Unfortunately I couldn't get the last ending where the demon takes over (or maybe I did, but that was a long while ago), so hopefully there wasn't anything too big on that ending.

We learn the general reason to why Jordan like Sutoro so much- mostly that he's very cool and popular, the type that speaks directly and intentionally. As a result, Momo becomes extremely jealous over him, attempting to be popular as well to gain Jordan's attention and supposedly also tripping him down the stairs in the past, which leads to Sutoro being very wary and disliking Momo.

I gotta say first of all that this game is very well made and an excellent prequel sequel to Froot Basket Valentine. While I loved the tone and the absurdity of the original game, one of the things I wasn't too found of was the fact that we didn't know that much about the relationship between Momotaru and Jordan, since the two seemed to be very close and that he was a yandere for them. Luckily, this entire game does show how Momotaru feels towards Jordan and why, along with why the events of the first game happened in the first place. I also think it's nice that we are able to see more of the relationships between all of the characters, thus learning more abou them. The art style, while different from the first game really does set the tone of it, favoring a more comic book style rather than a more painterly/goofy look to it, which I really do like. The various events that can happen as well make it very good for replayability, especially since you can get different types of parts from different characters depending on what is chosen.

Momotaru as a yandere is very cynical, not caring or disliking most of the other characters besides Jordan since he sees them as their one true love. Unlike in Valentine, we do see that Momotaru sees himself as more of a loser rather than the more popular chick magnet that he was in that game. He looks down on other and himself and just hates it when anyone gets near them, even though most of the other characters, with the exception of Paer and Suturo, seem to be rather friendly with him. With Suturo its a rival situation where he does attempt to get rid of him (and fails) as well as try to become more like him so that Jordan will like him thorough popularity and trying to be good at basketball (because as it turns out Momotaru is actually pretty weak physically), though it ironically doesn't really matter as much considering that Suturo ends up rejecting Jordan in Valentine, as he has no romantic interest in them. He's specifically very spiteful towards him for this reason, so anything that ends with him hurting Suturo probably makes him happy. So it does make sense that he wants Jordan to like him and makes a deal with the demon, considering that Jordan is A. kind of oblivious and B. already very clearly likes Sutoro. When it comes to Jordan though, Momotaru is very lovestruck over them, even offering to help them do a demonic ritual to (apparently) help make their friend's life better, and in a lot of cases even just outright confesses to liking them or wanting to be with them. In some cases it does seem like he worships them to a certain degree, trying to find them always, remembering everything that they told him and just seeing all of the good sides of them. That being said, he is willing to use more underhanded tactics of being with them, specifically the love potion that's created at the ending when the ritual is completed on Halloween, so that they would forget everyone except him. I'll be honest Momotaru and Spine were actually pretty big inspirations for Iya and Emil in terms of personality and appearance (to a certain degree) so I'm always happy to see them in the game.

That being said, I think the biggest qualm I have about the game is that it's very hard to get all of the endings, even with a tutorial. Normally, it's not too difficult for me to complete most of a game, especially for visual novels, but there's a lot of finicky things going on with Froot Basket that make it difficult. It's generally very hard to remember how to get everyone on the hitlist and harder to time it correctly to get everything you need, especially without the tutorial. Even with the tutorial, I was only able to get two of the three endings (for some reason the Consume ending is evading me, though I'm pretty sure I've successfully did all of the clicking minigames right and followed the walkthrough). For me, the basketball minigame is pretty hard as well since it's a lot based on chances and Suturo is leagues better at the game than Momotaro is (or at least the game is more biased towards letting Suturo win) so I had to give up on that one. That being said, I am very grateful for the tutorial because it did allow me to make sure I could get two of the endings, but it's still pretty difficult for me to get everything that I need to make a full analysis of the game (though I guess missing one ending probably won't kill me).

Overall, an extremely well made game. If you liked Froot Basket Valentine and want more from the characters, please give it a try. There's a lot of things you can learn about everyone and the story is very intriguing seeing it from the yandere's point of view. I highly recommend it.

#Froot Basket Dark Chocolate #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #visual novel #completed

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quicktosimp · 7 months

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Warmth

Kinktober Day 02 - Eating Out

A/N: Day two! Let's go!

Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, size difference, praise kink, slight breeding kink, all characters are aged up

Thank you @pandoraslxna for putting this together for all of us 💕

Divider by @cafekitsune

The Metkayina village is beautiful. The crashing waves were unlike anything I had heard before—the feeling of the sand between my toes. And for once, I did not have to worry as much about being too short for things. I no longer have to worry about climbing the jungle's trees, switching to catch vines to keep up with the Sully family. Spider was able to keep up with some difficulties. Keeping up in the jungle is difficult for me; as a child, I had fallen out of a tree, breaking my ankle in multiple places; it never fully healed. Many days, walking is difficult, let alone hiking and climbing. I was always stuck in the lab, and on a good day, I could make the trek to the village, where I would sit and weave or bead clothing. But here in Metkayina, I don’t have to worry as much about that. While I will always have bad days, the water doesn’t put as much pressure on my ankle. I can sit by the water's edge and use the fishing poll I made. I can move in the water with ease. But my favorite thing about moving here is Aonung.

While in the beginning, he was an arrogant snot who needed his face bashed in. After the brawl, if you could call it that, he started to change. He Aonung was definitely still cocky, but he wasn’t cruel anymore. Some of the crowd that followed him didn’t get the memo. A group of them started to heckle me on my way to the water. One grabbed my fishing rod and waved it around, catching me on the hook. They tugged the string, pulling the hook in my arm; I begged them to stop; next thing I knew, the goon who was pulling on the line was flat on his ass, with Aonung standing over him, fist raised. Not expecting their leader to protect me, they scampered off fast. Aonung asked if I was alright and brought me to Ronal. There’s still a scar from the hook, but Aonung brought me healing paste and ointments to lessen the scar. It was not long after that we began to court.

Today was rainy; the wind was blowing harshly. Many of the families would do their indoor chores today and leave any hunts for another day. Most of the underwater gathering could be done, but many top-side fishers would wait another day. This is when I have some of my best hauls. There is no one to join me on these days, so I sit in solitude until someone decides to hunt me down.

“There you are, Tawtute.” Aonung walks towards me, crouching under the low rocks leading to my spot.

Scoffing, I reply, “This is where I always am, Skxawng.”, never taking my eyes off my fishing.

Aonung sits behind me, his legs on either side of mine, wrapping his arms around my waist, “I missed you,” he whispered into my hair.

I smiled at his words, “I missed you too,” leaning into his embrace. I feel his kuru fall and land on my lap, something he always does. He puts his most sensitive anatomy in my lap or hands to say he loves and trusts me.

“How has your fishing been today?” gesturing to my basket nearby.

“It has been well. I just need one more, and it will be full.” Pleased with my work, as it is barely noon and my work is nearly finished.

“You work harder than any other member of the village right now. Today is meant to be spent inside, with our families and lovers,” Aonung emphasizes with a small kiss on my neck, “You already have enough food to provide for several families. Come home with me,” He pleads.

Looking at my basket of fish and felt my cold, wet skin and Aonung’s warmth on my back and waist. My answer is easy to come to. I reel in my line and start to finish packing. Aonung smiles like he won the lottery, grabbing my basket of fish for me in one hand and in the other holding my hand. He always carries my basket for me; every day I fish, I know that Aonung will find me. The walk back to his marui was simple; we dropped the basket of fish off at the communal marui, where it will be prepared for the group meal at Eclipse. Aonung’s marui isn’t far from there. The warmth felt nice, a relief from the cold.

“I have some of your warm clothes by our sleep mat. Why don’t you get warm?” He kisses my head before heading to start a fire for us.

Looking at his muscular back, seeing his them flex as he moves through his marui, warms me in a different way. Feeling this sparked an idea. A naughty idea.

I move over so Aonung can see me on the side. I cross my arms and slowly slip my shirt over my head, wiggling as I fight to get the wet clothes off my body. I start slipping off my skirt the Aonung made me, pretending to struggle with the many straps that wrap around my hips.

“Would you like some help with that?” Aonung asks from his place on the other side of the marui.

I let loose a fake grunt of frustration, “Yes, please. This is my favorite skirt, and I always worry I might break it.” I pouted as I turned to look at him.

“Of course, ma Sumtsyìp. Next time, I will make fewer straps so it is easier for you.” His hands trail down my hips, untangling the straps, sliding them down my thighs. The skirt slips off once it passes my thighs. Aonung’s hands start to leave my body, but I grab them, putting them on my waist.

“Are you still cold love?” Wrapping himself around me, “Would you like me to help you with that?” His voice dropped to a gravel. I nod my head, eager for his touch, “Words, ma Sumtsyìp,” Aonung demanded.

“Yes, please. Want you to touch me” I plead.

Aonung kisses my neck, “Good girl,” his fingers brush up my sides and rest on my breasts, covered by my bra. I hear his hiss as he feels the fabric instead of flesh; he’s never been a fan of tawtute clothing. His fingers came close to the center of my bra and rips. A moan rips from me at his actions. He drags the torn fabric and throws it in the fire he made. Aonung replaces it with his hands, grouping my breasts. He holds them for one moment before his fingers inch closer to my nipples; he tweaks and pinches them gently. Rolling them between his fingers. I lean back onto him, sighing from the gentle pleasure.

“Feel good, Sumtsyìp?” He asks, his lips brushing over my neck.

“Yes, always so good,” I whisper back.

Aonung’s hands leave my breasts and go down to my waist again, “Go lay down on our mat,” a finger tugs at my panties, “and take these off.” he backs away.

I jump to follow his orders, nearly tearing my panties in my eagerness to get them off. I lay down on my back, waiting for his next move. Aonung leans over and covers me with his body, caging me in his warmth; he brushes my hair with his hand and kisses me sweetly on my lips. “You’ve been so good today, worked hard to bring those fish in for the village. Sat there in the rain for hours, and now you’re being a good girl and letting me help you, listening to me. You deserve a reward.” He murmurs against my lips.

His lips continue down, laying kisses on my jaw and neck; he stays there for a bit, continuing to mark my neck in rings of purple, drawing small sighs from me. From there, he returns to my chest; his hand cups my left breast while his lips go to my right. First, he licks around my nipple, feeling them as they stiffen, before taking it into his mouth. I arch my back, trying to get closer to him.

“Stay still for me. Or this will end.” He threatened.

I lower myself back to the floor with a thump, not wanting this to end early. I hear Aonung chuckle before he goes back to my breast. His lips fasten to my nipple, sucking harshly, nibbling as I moan into the warm air of the marui. I tense as I do my best to stay still for him, wanting to be good. Finally, he lets go with a wet suckle, only to switch to the other breast, lavishing it with attention. His other hand was never idle, playing with my other breast.

My eyes are screwed shut from the pleasure, “Nung, Nung, please. More.”

He chuckles again before letting go of my best, “But I’m warming you up, Sumtsyìp. I can’t leave a piece of you cold. That would be cruel of me.” A smirk dominated his face, but he complained as he moved down to my navel. His tongue circled around before dipping inside. Aonung flicks his tongue multiple times before moving on. He goes to each hip bone, leaving a mark on each side, he doesn’t stay there long, moving lower, and I feel his breath ghosting my cunt.

“Look here, you’re so wet for me. Already dripping onto our mat.” Aonung leans back, grabbing my knees and lifting them by my shoulders. “ Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

Using the flat of his tongue, Aonung drug it from bottom to top, stopping to suck at my clit. A squeal left my lips; I could barely even wiggle in this position, stuck to endure the pleasure he gives me, “Look at me” I meet his eyes, and from there, he stays at my clit for a bit, sucking it into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing. I fight not to close my eyes as the onslaught of pleasure takes over. Looking into his bright blue eyes, he travels lower, fucking his tongue into my cunt. The rest of his mouth covers my pussy, sucking as he fucks it.

“Nung, Nung, please, oh fuck,” I beg, my toes curl as I feel my core tightening.

Letting my pussy go, he asks, “Are you gonna cum for me, Sumtsyìp? Gonna cum on my tongue? You know I can taste myself from this morning. Maybe this time it will take.” Aonung returns to my pussy like a starved man, fucking my hole, then sucking my clit. A never-ending pleasure. I feel his drool and my slick dripping down my back, forming a puddle underneath me.

“Nung! Gonna cum! Gonna cum!” I pleaded; my core is tight and needed to release, but I hadn’t been given the word.

“Cum Sumtsyìp, cum for me” Lathcing himself over my whole pussy, I released. I felt Pleasure, whiting my vision, as I screamed my release. Aonung swallowed it all as I came down from my high. Using his mouth to clean me up. Every lick brought a shot of pleasure, causing me to twitch. “Good girl, you did such a good job listening to me.” Aonung takes me into his arms, cradling me to his chest. He grabs my favorite blanket, wrapping it around me, “Now, Sumtsyìp, let's cuddle by the fire. I do not want you to catch a cold.” Kissing my head, we sit by the fire.

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nba24highlights · 1 year

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youtube

Lebron James Bulls his way to the basket through Dillon Brooks chest scored go up 3-1 in the series!

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lacrymatoryao3 · 8 months

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Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 2: September, 1899 (Continued)

[1]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there's smut in this.)

3,315 Words (AO3 Link)

Ana Maria Gardener stood at the counter of the Hoosier cabinet in the kitchen as her son groggily ate his breakfast. She put together his lunch for the school day, wrapping the contents into a tea towel and placing it in a tobacco tin painted and shaped like a wicker picnic basket with a sealed glass bottle of milk.

Her son sighed and stood up, taking his plate to the sink, “How much longer do I have to do this again?”

“Do what? Go to school?” Ana replied in Spanish, “Well, you just turned 10. I’d like you to stay in until the term ends after you turn 13. I think you’ll be enough of a man by then to take over some of my responsibilities.”

The young boy turned and looked at her. She reached over and smoothed his straight, raven black hair and continued with a more gentle tone, “So, I’m afraid you have another 3 years.”

He rolled his eyes. They were striking for a child of his ethnicity, especially compared to his mother’s deep brown ones, bright and soulful ocean blue. They cut through anyone he gazed upon, almost glowing in contrast with his light tanned skin.

The grandfather clock chimed eight times. Ana handed her son a balled up bundle of mint, thyme, and basil to clean his mouth and teeth. He dutifully put it into his mouth, chewing it as she followed him into the living room for his coat and hat and out onto the porch of the house where she handed him his lunch and books. He leaned over the railing and spit the concoction out when they became tasteless, sauntering down the stairs to the barn.

Ana wrapped the wool shawl over her shoulders tighter for extra warmth. She looked at the overcast sky above Cain Valley and the rocky peaks of the Bear Mountains. Autumn had not even officially arrived yet, and the snow was already threatening. She frowned. Even after so long her Mexican blood hated the cold. It made her long for Guadalajara, the birthplace she hadn’t seen since she was a child.

Her son came back to the house riding on top of Josefina, a patient dark brown and white Tobiano patterned American Paint mare. Behind them he was leading Enrique, an old a trusty Appaloosa stallion with a coat of white with black Dalmatian spots. Ana had taught him well, the boy was so gentle and patient with them. It made him more experienced than others his age. In those moments, Ana allowed herself to think of his father.

Ana hitched Enrique to the post in front of the house. He reached up to her son, who leaned down and let her kiss him on the forehead.

“No fights!” She said firmly, “I do not need another letter from Miss Svensson about it!”

The boy nodded, but she knew by the look in his eyes he wasn’t going to promise anything he couldn’t keep, “Si, Mama. See you later.”

“I love you!” She called as he rode away to meet with the other children waiting at the main gate of the property.

“Love you too!” He replied.

The group wandered out of sight as the stage coach arrived, dropping off new visitors to the hotel she owned and picking up the old ones waiting on the porch. They were a diverse bunch, around similar ages give or take a few years. Some were Chinese from Mr. and Mrs. Liang, some were Irish from Mr. and Mrs. O’Hogan, a couple were black from Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, and hers half-Mexican. Despite their presence in the town for many years, and most accepting and welcoming of them, there were still ones who were not. That extended to their own children. It was no wonder her son, strong in his convictions, ended up getting into schoolyard brawls. Another thing of his father’s she saw in him, that she couldn’t curtail no matter how hard she tried.

She walked across the curved brick driveway to the inn on her property. Through a back door she entered a small office. She sat down at the desk, opening a time book sitting on the surface. She scanned through the names, noting the days and times they worked. Very rarely did the team she had miss days, or not fulfill the 8 to 10 hours she asked of them, without her knowing beforehand. She mentally totaled the pay for them. She went into the drawer and took out the stack of paychecks. She pulled out six of them and filled them out one after another, adding the same information each time with the exception of the names they were for.

She got up with the paychecks in hand, taking a satchel off a hook and putting them inside it before slinging it over her shoulder and across her chest so it rested on her hip opposite. She went to a safe hidden in a cabinet below a bookcase, entering the combination to open it. Inside was the money the inn made the past two weeks. She quickly counted it, first the bank notes and second the coins - $300.76 in total - before she put them in the satchel as well. She also grabbed a gun belt with a loaded revolver, buckling it around her waist under the bag.

Ana returned to Enrique at the her house, who was idly munching on some grass along the path as far has his tether could allow him to reach. She unhitched him and mounted him sidesaddle. She scratched him behind the ears, the horse making an unbothered huff as she guided him onto the main street to the general store a short ride away.

The general store was always busy, however the crowd always cleared the counter when Ana arrived. She politely greeted them, scanning for any unfamiliar faces who might cause trouble with the business she needed to attend to.

Behind the counter was a Mr. Latini. He was a scrawny man who always wore thick, round glasses and sported a mustache almost too big for his face. He had been the proprietor of the store, like his father before him, and shared 50/50 ownership with Ana since her husband passed on his businesses to her. It was something he was never thrilled with. She could always see it in his eyes when she came in for her half of the profits. For what reason she was never sure, perhaps because she was a woman, or because she was Mexican, or both, but he was smart enough to never debate about it. They both made out well in the end. She was never unkind or unfair, so they simply made their pleasantries and he gave her the money - $591.04 this time around. She nodded, put it in her bag, and got back on her horse.

The Farmer’s Bank of Cain Valley was the grandest building in the town. It was an ornate two story Neoclassical styled with large windows. Inside it was just as fancy with its carved wood paneling and accents and chessboard marble floor. It wasn’t busy yet, Ana being able to walk right up to one of the teller’s windows.

She took out the money and paychecks, sliding them to the teller, “I’d like to deposit the money and get these notarized to distribute.”

The teller gave her a slip and a pencil to fill out while he placed the proper stamps on the checks to make them exchangeable. They traded the pieces of paper and the teller took the money, recounting it at lighting speed to make sure he had the right amount. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a receipt.

“Thank you.” Ana said, putting them in her bag and departing.

The sky had cleared when she trotted back to her property on Enrique, the sky a vivid light blue and the sun warming the area a bit more. On payday Ana felt like she was on a grand tour of some sort. She would go into the blacksmith’s, paying to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. She would go to the stable, putting Enrique in the paddock and paying Mr. and Mrs. O’Hogan, despite the fact Mrs. O’Hogan’s work was limited due to how pregnant she was. Her last stop was back to the inn, going through the main entrance to pay Mrs. Liang, who would hold onto her husband’s for when he returned in the evening. Ana took her satchel and gun belt back into the office.

Between the house and the inn Ana picked some bundles of herbs in the large garden, some for cooking and some medicinal. She carried them inside, walking through the floral wallpapered hallway to the kitchen. She hung them over the oven range nestled in the old renovated hearth to dry. She pulled out some small logs from under the oven, placing them into the firebox. She filled a kettle with water from a pump attached to the dry sink and placed it onto the stove.

She brewed tea, sitting at a secretary desk in the living room. She filled out a ledger book to keep track of everything she did that day, then moved on to reading the September issue of Good Housekeeping. There was once a time she believed reading those ladies’ magazines would teach her how to be a proper, honest woman. Now it often reminded her that most of the men and women who wrote for them were rich and metropolitan, out of touch and no understanding of how most people lived or raised their children. Damn Easterners.

Mr. Liang drove in a few hours earlier than expected, surprising Ana to see the wagon pull up in front of the living room’s large bay window. He jumped from the driver’s seat and raced up the stairs to the porch. He knocked on the front door rapidly, not stopping until Ana answered.

Liang bowed, “Madam Ana! Sorry to bother, but something important came up as I was return.”

Ana’s brow furrowed, “Is everything all right, Mr. Liang?”

“Came across man at Bacchus.” Liang began to explain, “He in back. He not good shape. Seem very sick. It came and go during ride, but I thought you could be help.”

Ana nodded and followed Liang to the wagon. Liang climbed into the back of the covered bed, hearing him say something to the man. The stranger grunted and replied.

His voice… Could it -? No. Ana knew that wasn’t possible. She swallowed that hope, waiting for Liang and the stranger to emerge.

Liang guided him out with the stranger’s arm around his shoulder. Liang told him where to step and had him sit down on the platform that doubled as a seat, letting him catch is horrible sounding breath. Ana’s eyes widened. A rush of disbelief washed over her, so intense it made her light headed. She stumbled backward, grabbing the stair railing to steady herself.

“You all right, Madam Ana?” Liang asked. Ana wasn’t able to form the words to reply, still staring at the stranger. He finally looked at her. His eyes were still the deep and soulful pools of ocean blue she remembered, but their clear sparkle gone. They were glassy and graying, bloodshot and sunken. Their life replaced by a painful sorrow.

He squinted in vague recognition, “…Anie?”

Anie… She hadn’t heard that in so long… His voice was still the same deep and warm baritone, but more rugged and raspy with age. It subsided the shock. She went over to him, sitting next to him and almost collapsing in the seat. She reached out, almost expecting the figure before her to disappear in an instant until her hands rested on his cheeks. She took in his face. He was older now, as was she, but the lines from the rough life he had led suited him more than it did her much softer ones. He had a few more scars than just the one on his chin that she remembered. She could tell his nose had been broken many more times. There was also the pitiful things. His features were gaunt. Under the deep purple and yellow bruises he was so pale, except for his cheeks and lips which were a feverish blush which burned under her fingertips. His beard had traces of both old and fresh blood trapped in the hairs. Above it all, he was there before her. After so long, she had him in her grasp again.

“Arthur…” Ana whispered, holding back tears, “It’s you… Dear God, it’s you…”

He nodded weakly, “Yeah. It’s me.”

Ana embraced Arthur tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He felt so thin and fragile. His proud and strong, broad body withered away.

“You shouldn’t be this close to me, Anie,” Arthur said, “I’m real sick.”

Ana nodded. She let him go and turned to Liang, “Mr. Liang, could you go into the house and prepare the sick room? Afterwards I need you to fetch Dr. Anderson to take a look at him.”

Liang bowed, “Yes Madam.”

Ana put her attention back on Arthur. She took the shawl off her shoulders and wrapped it around his.

She sighed and shook her head, “You look like shit.”

Arthur remembered how blunt she could be, especially in her accent. He was unable to keep himself laughing, “I feel like shit.”

Ana helped Arthur stand. She led him into the inn, keeping her hand on his back. It felt nice for Arthur to be inside, warmed by the fire that crackled in the lobby.

“Mrs. Liang!” Ana called.

A small Chinese woman appeared from a hallway holding a stack of clean towels, “Yes, Madam Ana?”

“Are any of the bath rooms available? This gentleman here badly needs one.”

Mrs. Liang handed Ana some of the towels and a white nightshirt, “I just do up them all. Everything ready.”

Ana thanked Mrs. Liang and led Arthur down the hall. She chose one of the bigger baths. Despite how thin Arthur had become, he was still a rather large man. She didn’t think to ask, maybe she probably should have, but she was more focused on the task. She took the shawl off him first, then started for the closures of his suspenders to remove them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Arthur remarked, putting his hands up to stop her, “What’re you doin?”

Ana put her hands on her hips and raised a thick, dark eyebrow, “What do you mean? You’re filthy. You clothes are filthy.”

“Yeah… But… Y’know…”

“Arthur, we have seen each other naked. It’s been a long time, but still. There’s no need for false modesty. Especially in your condition. I need to see how bad it is.”

Arthur relented. He knew she was stubborn when she was determined about something. At least, she was when she was younger. He just wished it wasn’t stripping him bare. She continued with his suspenders, throwing everything on a mirrored vanity. She moved on to the black bandanna he had tied around his neck, the one he used as a mask during robberies, then to his shirt. Ana made a remark about it, surprised it was still in one piece. He tried to recall if he had it that long, the beaten light blue shirt with dark blue double pinstripes. He had to agree it had seen better days, showing its wear and tear with stains of various substances and origins permanently soaked into the fabric.

“Hold still.” Ana ordered. She circled around him, inspecting every inch of his torso. His chest and stomach were deeply bruised like his face. She traced her fingers along the lines of his ribs, finding fractures that had begun to heal. He had a fresh scar on his left shoulder, still a light shade of pink. His condition heightened her worry. He was so underweight he was nearly a skeleton.

Her voice broke, “Oh, Arthur… What happened to you?”

Arthur winced, “Tuberculosis happened to me, Anie. And a man who ain’t even worth givin’ a name to.”

“Consumption…” Ana exhaled. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers, trying to gather her thoughts. He was right. If it was that disease, he was sick, and there was very little to do about it.

“Then I guess you came to the right place.” Ana added. She tapped him chest, motioning to sit on a stool next to the bathtub. She pulled the boots off his feet, and helped him take off his pants. Like a mother, she instructed him to get in the tub.

The steaming hot water felt good on Arthur’s infirm body, scented by lavender and rose oil. He laid back with a hum, watching Ana wander around the room to get things. She put a large bath sponge and a bar of Castile soap on the tray over the tub, going to the vanity and producing a shaving kit and a pair of scissors. She sharpened the razor blade before sitting down on the stool, dipping the shaving brush into the foamy cream and painting his beard with it. As she was with other blades Ana handled the razor well, carefully but quickly taking the hair off his jaw starting from below his right ear and ending below his left. She dipped the razor in the water to wash it off and dried it. She wiped the rest of the shaving cream off Arthur’s face with a washcloth that was warmed on top of the pot bellied stove in the room.

Ana smiled and rubbed the scar on Arthur’s chin, “There you are! There’s the handsome man I knew.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” Arthur chuckled, “ain’t nothin’ handsome ‘bout me.”

Ana made a sour expression and then rolled her eyes. She dipped the bristles of a hairbrush into the water. She started working on his hair, which had grown long and fell down his neck. She brushed it until whatever trapped in his locks had been removed and it shone with golden tones of polished copper. They didn’t speak for a while as Ana focused on cutting his hair. She wasn’t a barber by any means, but trimmed it to a normal length for a man and keeping it a little bit longer on top. She gave it one last douse before parting it on his right side.

Arthur was the one to break the silence, “Madam, huh?”

“Only the Liangs call me that.” Ana replied as she moved on to washing his body, “It has something to do with their culture putting an importance on honorifics. The Chinese have a very specific view on courtesy.”

“I guess. Jus’ sounds weird is all.” Arthur said, hissing through the ache when she went over a bruise, “How long you been here anyway, Anie?”

“Ten years. I ended up here after…” Ana trailed off.

He looked at her and nodded, “I understand.”

“I was fortunate somehow.” Ana continued, “I got married. I had a baby. My husband died. I got left with this business of his. My son is t-… Nine now.”

“At least one of us figured out how to live honest.”

“It wasn’t easy, Arthur. In fact, it was almost unbearable for a couple of years. When you spend all your life on the run, doing whatever you needed to do to survive in spite of any law. Ending up on the other side of it, your instincts still remain.”

Ana assisted Arthur out of the tub. She wrapped him in the warm towels and helped him dry off. He put on the knee length white cotton nightshirt and a pair of matching slippers. After all of what he bad been through, he had to admit it was nice to be clean.

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