cultven

[cultven]

no bc why am i thinking of lex luthor at work

[cultven]

i’m curating a delicious post-movie Lex Luthor X Reader where he’s in jail and reader is an agent from the Federal Threat Analysis Unit… multiple chapters, keep your eyes peeled

[cultven]

His Princess Peach | Charlie Kelly X Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend Charlie has to go do Charlie Work at Paddy's, you feel bad for him and offer to help. Little do you know how gross things can get. Thankfully, after all is said and done at the bar, you have some decompress time with your love in the form of a shower.

Word Count: 2.5k

7:48 am

ON A TUESDAY

PHILADELPHIA

“Charlie, what in God’s name are you doing up so early?” It wasn’t unusual for you to be up and sipping coffee at such an early hour, but whenever you see your boyfriend peel himself off your sheets at such an hour, you can’t help but worry the world was ending. The only times he woke up this early were for a tailgate or some stupid plan The Gang made. From the kitchen counter you were perched at, you spotted your scraggly boyfriend trudging around the living room, looking half-dead. 

“The guys need me to do Charlie work today.” Charlie groaned, sounding like a child dreading his day at middle school. His hair was haphazardly pointing in every direction, and you couldn’t help but compare him to a troll doll in your mind. Suppressing a soft chuckle, your feet absentmindedly made their way over to Charlie, hand gently reaching up to smooth his hair. You were accustomed to his unkempt look; you even found it endearing in many ways. Charlie was the only person whom you believed could make the homeless look attractive. However, this was also one of the reasons you were initially hesitant to introduce Charlie to your slightly judgmental friends. Thankfully, you didn’t see them much anymore as you’ve slowly been implemented more and more into The Gang’s antics. To an outsider, this may sound like a downgrade, but truly, it was for the best.

“Really? I can’t wait a few more hours?” You lazily rub his arm in comfort, watching how his eyes slowly open and close, Charlie still clearly half asleep. “Charlie, you look like shit.”

“Nah, Frank is throwing some kind of gambling event and needs the place cleaned for his Vietnamese friends or something.” Charlie quickly lowers his head to kiss you in a small apology. One perk of dating Charlie was that, given his nature, you never needed to be self-conscious about your morning breath. 

“That should’ve been my first guess.” You roll your eyes, used to the ridiculous hobbies of The Gang and how it typically resulted in your boyfriend getting the short end of the stick. This lament quickly struck an idea in your mind, “Charlie, could I help you today? Y’know, maybe make the work go by faster?” 

It didn’t take more than five seconds for Charlie to be snapped out of his sleepy coma and get a burst of energy, “Wait that’s an awesome idea! Do you really wanna?” He looked like a child on Christmas; you didn’t even need to bat your eyelashes for him to immediately indulge in your suggestion. Yet another endearing characteristic of his.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, if you do this ‘Charlie Work’ almost every day, it can’t be that bad, right?” How ignorant and stupid you were. You would very soon regret sparking the idea of helping entirely. 

Now here you were, standing outside of Paddy’s restrooms with Charlie, preparing for battle. Before entering the bathroom, Charlie made you ‘gear up’, which was essentially just a trash bag he cut holes into so you could wear it like a tunic, a bandana to keep your hair back, and a pair of worn rubber gloves. 

“Charlie, I feel like I’m getting ready to go to Chernobyl.”

“Yeah, that’s basically the idea.” Charlie, unlike you, was just completely raw dogging this mission; the only ‘gear’ he was using was gloves. You asked why you were so bundled, and all he said was that it was ‘for your protection’. His reason was sweet, but unnerving. 

“Okay, rules before we go in. If you need to plug your nose, just start mouth breathing. Do not use your hands with the gloves, it only makes it worse. Personal experience.” He shivers slightly with a forlorn look in his eye before shaking out of it and continuing. “Don’t get too into the whole ‘cleaning aspect’ of it, it will be dirty again in 2 days. Fix and leave. Also, stay AWAY from the splash zone, the splash zone is bad.” Charlie listed all of these rules as if he were sorting through a preconceived mental list. 

“Splash zone?”

“Just stay behind me. You’ll be fine, probably.” All of this made it seem like Charlie was preparing you for torrential warfare rather than a simple plumbing issue. After five more minutes of Charlie rambling and you half-listening while staring at his surprisingly serious face, you move in. 

Immediately, you were hit with a giant whiff of God knows what. The stench was so foul you didn’t even know how to describe it. “Oh my God! Charlie, this is absolutely disgusting.” You complain, staring dreadfully at the clogged urinal. Charlie approaches the mess. 

“A plunger is a man’s best friend, babe!”

“Who the hell shits in a urinal?!” 

“It’s a bar bathroom, we keep questions to the minimum.” With a disgruntled look on your face, you stay a solid five feet away from the warzone, hazily watching Charlie approach the mess. After ten minutes of Charlie’s fruitless plunging, nothing happens. 

“Shit, alright. Guess we gotta go inside.” 

“Inside?! Dear God, you are not referring to the sewers, Charlie, because that is the one place I will not follow you, and you know that.” You were aware of your darling boyfriend's hobbies, and as much as you loved him and supported his interests, you stayed away from the sewage.

“Nah, we just gotta like get in the pipes.” Charlie moved in closer, staring at the pipes around the urinal. “Yeah, okay, you know this like curvy one right here? Yeah, that’s probably important for this… situation… probably.” You were almost positive he was just trying to impress you and had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. As Charlie moved around the pipes, you could tell he was trying to flex his muscles, attempting to make fixing a urinal sexy. It was cute. Suddenly, Charlie stood up straight and cracked his knuckles like a true professional. “Alright! Grab the wrench, babe!” 

Hesitantly, you fulfill Charlie’s request and gingerly hand over the tool. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” 

“Yeah, how hard could it be? I think if a guy who purposely jumps and hits his head on mystery boxes can do it, I can.”

“Charlie, are you seriously referencing Mario? The Italian fictional plumber who, may I remind you, is fictional?” Your question goes unanswered as Charlie begins to loosen random screws and pipes. Unsurprisingly, after he loosens a rather important-looking pipe, water begins shooting around the entire room. 

Charlie quickly pulls you away from the stream of water erupting from the now more broken urinal. “Oh SHIT!” His hands rest on your waist above the trash bag, holding you close to him. “OK, IF YOU SEE ANY GOOMBAS DON’T PANIC.”

“Charlie, what THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” You yell, trying to put as much distance between you and the shit water as possible in such a small space. Charlie was clearly on edge, but obviously not that concerned with the situation at hand, considering he was now attempting to grab a handful of your ass above the trash bag. “Charlie?! Now is not the time!” You scream, alerting your boyfriend once again of his existence, springing him into action.

“OK! I’m going to need your hand.” Charlie turns to you, dead serious. Trusting your boyfriend, you raise your hand out to him, which he grabs and swiftly uses to ‘plug’ the hole.

“GOD DAMN IT, CHARLIE THIS IS DISGUSTING.” You try to take your hand back, but Charlie keeps it over the hole, unsuccessfully limiting the water spewing out. 

“Look, you stay here and I’ll grab duct tape, it’ll take like two seconds, I promise!” Charlie is slowly backing out of the room, making sure you won’t move from your spot. 

“Fine! Go! Jesus, you’re lucky I love you...” You grimace at the water slowly drenching your arm.

“You’re my Princess Peach, babe!” Charlie yells, running out of the bathroom in search of tape. 

“And stop with the Goddamn Mario analogy!” You scream back, not sure if he could even hear you. It took only a few minutes for Charlie to come back, appearing all frazzled and dazed. 

“Okay, so, no duct tape, I think Frank and Artemis used the last of it, BUT I have these!” Charlie holds up a small roll of scotch tape and gorilla glue. “I think if I like think really hard and use my brain, I could fix this.”

“That’s great, babe. I’m very proud of you, but how the hell are you going to use those to fix this?” You gesture to the pipe that is still actively spraying water everywhere, something you’ve given up on caring about. 

“Leave it to me, Princess.” Charlie gives you a wink with a giant cheesy smile, something you rolled your eyes at, but not without the accompaniment of a genuine smile. He was a stupid idiot, but he was your stupid idiot. 

It took half an hour of trial and error, but by luck, the two of you were able to fix the leak, and in the process, also fix the plumbing. So now here you sit at a high-top table, drenched and disgusting, and just a tiny bit accomplished. You sipped your beer, “Well Charlie, I didn’t think we’d ever do it, but we did. Cheers.” Your bottles make a satisfying clink before you take another swig. 

“Yup! You were a great help back there, babe! It’s nice to have someone around to do the work with me.” A goofy grin is on his face, and you smile back, pleased. 

“Well I must say, it was definitely interesting to take a glimpse into the Charlie work world.” You stretch your arms up, hearing a satisfying pop from your back. “I gotta be honest though, I don’t know how you do it, you’re a real champ. I can’t wait to go back home and shower.”

“Ahh yeah, that’ll feel great for you after all the sawdust and asbestos and stuff, that shit gets everywhere.” Charlie casually replies. 

You do a double-take on your boyfriend, who has and will not elaborate. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh yeah, we’re not done yet! We still gotta get the rats inside the walls.”

“...How?”

“By going inside the walls, duh.” He laughs a little bit, clearly not understanding your disbelief. “How else are you supposed to get the little critters from in there?” You can only muster a stare. Charlie work sucks. 

—

You finally made it home, somehow surviving the day. You applaud your boyfriend for being such a trooper about these jobs, but personally, if you were him, you would now realize you’d quit on the spot. It amazed you how such high spirits he had after such a long day, skipping next to you on your walk back to your apartment while he happily rants about something on not understanding fruit. Typical Charlie banter. 

The stairs leading to your apartment took the last of your energy out of you. All you wanted to do was crash on your bed, but there was no way in hell you were ruining your sheets with your dirtiness. Charlie, ever the doting boyfriend, could sense this instantly. “You gonna shower before bed?” He tilts his head in a dog-like manner. 

“Yeah, I feel like I could pass out on the spot, but it’s kinda necessary at this point.” He nods as you start towards the bathroom. Before entering the tiled room, you call out, “You have to shower too if you want bed privileges tonight!” 

“Aww…” You hear him pout. As you walk into the bathroom, you then hear Charlie call out after a quick pause, “Shower together?” You simply stopped and poked your arm out of the bathroom to gesture him over. You weren’t looking at Charlie at the time, but you understand him well enough to know he was doing his little victory dance. The shower was intimate, but not sexual. Sure, there were plenty of times where it had developed into something explicit, but this time you were simply taking in each other's presence. 

Charlie worked his fingers through your hair, lathering the shampoo through it. Sometimes he’d like to style your hair with the suds in fun ways, but more often than not, this only results in knots forming. A small price to pay for Charlie’s silliness. You hum as he preens you and soothingly massages your head. Your favorite part of Charlie was his ability to be so eccentric at times, but also so soft and sweet. 

It was now your turn to wash him, despite some small complaints from his end. You wet a washcloth in the warm stream of water and pour some of your favorite body wash. You knew Charlie loved the smell of it, which was part of why it was your favorite. The soap was now foaming up as you drag the cloth up and down his arms, working away at the cumulative dirt on his skin. As you work away, Charlie begins his usual rambles. 

“Maybe that should be our Halloween costume.”

“What costumes, dear?”

“Mario and Peach.” Of course he was still going on about that. You giggle, motioning for him to turn around so you can rub his back. 

“Hmm, I dunno, babe.” You tease, noticing how tense his muscles were, likely from work. 

“You don’t know?” Charlie seems confused for a second, which delves into bliss when you abandon the cloth to lovingly massage the knots in his back. 

“I mean, sure, Mario and Peach are iconic, but I think she and Bowser are the real power duo there. Plus, they’re definitely smashing on the downlow.” Charlie’s back visibly relaxes under your touch. 

“I guess that’d make sense why she’s always letting him kidnap her…” Charlie pretended to ponder for a second before turning back around to you. “Alright, Bowser and Peach it is.” You gently smile, rinsing off the remainder of the suds before grabbing a fluffy towel to dry your boy off. 

After what seemed like a grueling day, you were finally back in your soft bed, eyes fighting sleep. Charlie instantly got comfortable, bear-hugging you from the side, head resting almost directly on your tits. “Thanks for the help today, babe.” He yawns, “It was nice having a partner in crime for my chores.”

“Anytime, Charlie.” You rub his back as sleep overtakes you, hoping you never have to do such work ever again, but knowing you’d do it again in a heartbeat for him.

[cultven]

can you guys PLEASE recommend some underrated lex luthor fics because i love that bald headed man too much (superman fics are also welcome)

[cultven]

THEY CALL IT PUPPY LOVE (PART 2)

Clark Kent x Fem!reader.

(Synopsis) Where you throw a Superman-themed birthday party for your doggy, and your ex Lex Luthor shows up uninvited, saying "Is his damn kid too".

Part one here. Request <3. Masterlist

Your apartment doorbell has been ringing for almost fifteen seconds straight, but since you're busy scooping more dog treats onto a tray, Clark gets up from his seat to open it.

Clark opens the door; Lex's mad expression is the first thing to catch his eye.

Clark closes the door.

"Nobody, babe!" Clark answers when you ask from the kitchen who it was, but from where you're standing, you can hear a man's voice shouting angrily behind the door. You frown and hurry to the door.

"Lex?" You frown when you see your ex. Clark is behind you, feigning disinterest in your ex. "What are you doing here? I have Blue until Monday."

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" He looks at you and then at Clark, hatred pouring from the corners of his eyes. "The dog's having his birthday party, and I'm his father. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

You don't even have time to answer because he's already shoved you with his shoulder to enter the apartment uninvited. Clark frowns, but you shrug. You can't deny him seeing Blue; it's a clause he made sure to include in the joint custody agreement he made you sign.

A wave of barking fills the apartment as Blue's friends—almost every dog in the neighborhood, all wearing cone-shaped hats with the Superman symbol on them.

Supershit.

"There's no way my damn dog's party is about this—" Lex looks at all the decorations in disgust: blue streamers, plates with the "S," even you were wearing a Supergirl outfit. "This shit." The combination of all those noisy dogs, the Supershit decorations, and you all flirty with your boyfriend made him nauseous. Real nausea, the kind you can almost feel in your throat.

"He's his favorite superhero, what could I do?" And thanks to whom? Of course, your boyfriend. It wasn't your fault your dog always howled happily at the sight of his stepdaddy saving the city on TV.

Lex gives you one last "you disgust me" look before searching for the dog among the others. "Where is he anyway? There are plenty of him here." Blue is literally the only Doberman in the room. You roll your eyes, pointing at Blue in the middle of the room, Clark showering him with cuddles.

"You!" Lex yells, going over to Clark, having to walk through the entire apartment full of dogs mingling with each other. "Get your filthy hands off my dog."

"What if I don't want to?" Clark frowns and lifts his chin unnecessarily, considering he was a bit taller than Luthor. "What are you going to do?"

You start clapping loudly to get everyone's attention, especially the two gentlemen who seemed ready to make a scene right there. "Okay, okay, time for cake!"

The cake has Superman's signature colors, so of course it's blue. Blue walks over to you with his tongue sticking out and eyes you could swear were happy. "Let's take before a picture."

"Say cheese!" You hand your phone to a friend so she can take a picture of you with your dog and your boyfriend. Just as you, Clark, and Blue are already stepping onto the cake, you feel a shoulder bump into yours.

"It's my damn kid too."

So yeah, you have a picture in your drawer of you and Blue in the middle, and Lex and Clark, each on either side of you. A whole Superman decoration in the background, and some letter-shaped balloons that say "BLUE."

Taglist: @starincarnated @angelicp0etry @yeonalie @lator-gators @starssfall @moomumu @chamorunsmiles @urlittleangelbaby @americanboz0 @mysticdinosaurpirate @spiidergwenn @sugarbutterbailey @pestoluvr8 @ilovemangoes444 @kaiparkerwife @qardasngan @animegamerfox @helloimamistake @rinapomu @chaoticroaddreamerpasta @ryomku @dreamlesssleepsaga @yzuposts @mickey-mouse-crackhouse1902 @j07lvrg @khxna @1wannab3inaband

Here to add my permanent taglist!

[cultven]

Her First-Time | Helly R. X Fem! Reader 18+!!

Summary: SMUT!!! Right after it’s revealed Helena was taking place for Helly in MDR. You’re horrified you hadn’t recognized sooner and distance yourself. Soon, Helly finds you and assures you it’s alright, confiding in you. You learn her outie slept with Mark and jealously and tension rises…

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: I did not plan on writing this until two hours ago when I blacked out and woke up with this on Google Docs holy shit i literally never write smut, i promise im getting out my WIP a demon took over tonight

MDR was dead silent save for the continuous humming buzz of fluorescent lights over your meticulously placed desks. It was only you and Helly in the department at the moment. Dylan was still at Irving’s “funeral” and Mark was God knows where probably self destructing. It’s been a hard week for all of you. You wish you knew what to say, but words were long forgotten in your stream of seemingly never ending thoughts. All you could manage to do is stare at the floating numbers on the screen before you, tapping your Lumon-issued heel on the soft ground. From the corner of your vision you see Helly partaking in a similar ritual, eyes focused on nothing. You wish you could find the words to say to her, but what was comforting for someone in her position?

Hey, I’m sorry I hadn’t noticed sooner. I thought you were just being a dick to me on purpose because I accidentally offended you or something, not because it was your evil-dictator self.

Yeah, that might be a little too hammy. But it had been true, whilst Helena was pretending to be your dear friend she had successfully pissed you off so much you just began to ignore her, at least enough to not see the red flags hidden beneath her actions. It began with malicious words then followed with hostile actions. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what may have triggered this fit of hate from Helly and every mending attempt you tried fell flat. You eventually gave up. How stupid you were.

Lost in the abyss of your mind you didn’t notice Helly staring right at your conflicted face. What you didn’t notice was that she wasn’t mad at you, she could never be. Dylan had explained most of what had happened while she was gone and she learned how Helena had treated you. If anything, she felt she had more of a reason to feel sorry.

“Hey…” Helly’s voice struck through the still air in the room. Your head snapped immediately towards the sound, eager. It was one of the first times she had talked to you directly since arriving at the office. “I apologize for anything I, um she, might’ve said while I was gone.”

You could only stare. She was apologizing to you? Your face softens and melts into an expression of grace. You could never understand how such a kind and beautiful soul could simultaneously be such a vile person. “Oh Helly,” You began, “I’m not mad at you. If anything I’m mad at myself. I should’ve recognized it wasn’t you, like Irving had.” Your eyes travel back down to your lap, not finding the strength to look her in the eyes. You felt humiliated.

“No, no, don’t be.” Helly’s voice felt so calming to you, like a warm hug. “You were blinded by her.”

“How could you be so sure?” You suddenly spit out, causing Helly to be taken aback. You knew this anger was misplaced and yet it felt good to finally air out. Although, as good as it felt, you couldn’t continue this war path. “I need some more paper clips.” Following your muttered statement you hastily stand and scrambled to the supply closet. But of course, Helly was persistent and stood just as quickly as you had.

“Hey,” Helly called your name with alertness. “Talk to me, okay?” When she realized you weren’t looking at her and rather the dozens of different office supplies she grabbed your shoulder and whipped you around.

“What?” Your tone was so sharp and you hated it.

“Please, you can tell me what’s wrong. I can handle it.” Her hands felt like they were mending into the skin of your shoulders, the sensation was addicting. It only made you angrier. You shoved her hands off of you, backing away ever so slightly into the corner, eyes still trained on her.

“What’s wrong is that it should have been obvious!” Your voice was raised and still Helly doesn’t flinch or fall back. “Helly you’re my best friend in here, the most important person I have ever known, and I couldn’t tell you were missing just because she spewed some fucking middle school insults at me? I don’t deserve your forgiveness, especially when I know that you wouldn’t have done the same! You would’ve fought back because that’s the kind of person you are. The kind I’ll never be.” It was an embarrassing confession and said in such a self-deprecating way, but she asked for the truth. Helly had stopped approaching you at this point and was just listening, silently and without judgement.

“Maybe, maybe I would have noticed. I don’t know. But she’s taken too much away from me to scare you away too!” Helly’s voice was now joining yours in volume, although you could tell her frustration was far from being directed towards you. “She took my job, she took Irving, and now she’s taking you! She even…” Helly sighed, now quieter. You leaned forwards, not sure of what she was about to say. “She even took what was supposed to be my first-time.”

You were puzzled. “First-time? What do you mean?” She only stared. To her, your question would have been humorous in any other context.

“Intercourse.” She replied. “Sex. It was with Mark, supposedly at the retreat you were on.” Her eyes seemed dim and sad. You felt the intense need to bring that shine back, the one you had grown so fond of. But for now, Helly’s words sunk into you like a dagger. Sex with Mark? Sure, they seemed close but you had never pegged them to be that close. The thought brought you a flurry of horrid feelings for reasons you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh,” You didn’t have words to offer. “I’m sorry.” The room grew quiet and just breathing felt like a painful task. You wished it was time to clock out. To break the awkwardness you turn to your right and miraculously find a box of paperclips. You send a fabricated smile while holding up the box and turning towards the door. You needed to escape, gather your thoughts. Right as your foot entered the doorway you heard Helly once again.

“It’s not that I’m mad she had sex with Mark specifically, I just… I’m mad she had that power over me. That she used me to manipulate someone else.” Your mind was spinning, the information too much to grasp.

Still staring at the ivory white door you reply, “I’m sure Mark understands.” Then, you choose your next sentence with cruelty. “Maybe if you talk to him he can make it up for you, reenact it, y’know?” You didn’t know why you said it, but you had. It didn’t fix the lingering feeling in your chest, the one that only got progressively worse with the thought of them together. Without another word you left Helly alone in the closet with only the after taste of your words.

—

It was nearing six forty-fix and everyone but you and Helly hadn’t clocked out yet. This was far from an ideal situation in your eyes, but it was the way it had happened. Since your conversation in the closet you’ve been lamenting over your choice of reactions. You were done being mad at yourself and just wanted to repair things with Helly once more, but said task was easier said than done. You didn’t know how to approach her and formally apologize.

Any words you thought up fell flat and so you opted for your next best form of communication. Helly’s eyes grew curious as she stared at the small note you had flicked in her direction. It was in the shape of a miniature paper airplane. Carefully unwrapping the note her eyes widened slightly at the contents.

Dear Helly,

I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I was a dick. You’re one of the only good things I have in this hellhole and I’d be an idiot to throw that away.

Love, …

Under the short letter was a subpar drawing of the two of you holding hands walking in the grass. There were flowers blooming under your feet and a sun shining directly on your two figures. It was simultaneously beautiful and sorrow-filled, knowing that you will likely never have the chance to do so in real life. The drawing itself was childish, but that did not prevent it from pulling on the strings of Helly’s heart.

In reply a note similar to yours flew on your desk, this time it was simply a crumbled ball rather than a meticulously folded airplane. Inside was a single drawn heart and a smile. You look up and see Helly beaming at you, and of course, you return the favor.

—

It was the next morning and you were the third to arrive behind Mark and Dylan. Passing Helly’s desk you saw the tiny note you had given her the day earlier, it was folded so only the drawing was visible and taped to her monitor. It made you feel warm.

“Hey, what ‘cha smiling at?” Dylan inquired you from over at his desk. He was sipping on piping hot coffee and staring at you expectantly. You simply shrug and continue over to your desk, plopping down in the chair.

“Nothin’. Just excited to work, aren’t you?” You dodge the question with humor, to which Dylan has a quick witted comment to like always.

“Oh I’m just jumping with joy.” You could tell he doesn’t believe you, but energy has been down since Irv has been gone so the conversation ended there. Ten minutes later Helly struts into the room, today she’s wearing a short blue dress. It’s not unlike her other attire, but you always found this specific dress to hug her body nicely. It was a pretty color on her too, complimenting her eyes in an attractive way. But of course you’d never say these things outloud, and so you substitute these comments with a curt smile.

The morning drags on and you decidedly run to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Dylan’s smelled extra good this morning and you were ready to get in on that action. You were pouring a cup when you heard the click of heels enter the room. You didn’t need to raise your head to know who it was.

“Mind pouring me a cup?”

“That’s unlike you, you usually hate coffee.” You state, but still grabbing a cup to comply with her request nonetheless.

Helly shrugs at this comment, “I decided I wanted to try something new today I suppose.” She gratefully takes the cup out of your hand, fingers lingering over yours as she receives it. Raising the cup to her mouth, her lips tease the edge of the rim. The movement feels slow and deliberate, making a scene of her plump lips wrap around the edge. You felt embarrassed for staring and yet your eyes couldn’t pull away. You watch as her nude lipstick leaves a small rig around the rim of the cup and shivers. You cough and are about to excuse yourself until Helly interrupts.

“Wanna chat for a bit? I’m so bored out there today, I feel like everyone’s been down in the dumps.” You nod at her words and lean back on the counter you’re in front of.

“Sure, I get what you mean. Everyone’s on edge.” You take your own sip from your mug and fail to notice Helly’s own lasting stare. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking recently, I know so much about you now, but you’ve never told me much about what you were like here before I came.” This piqued your interest.

“Well, what do you mean?”

“I dunno.” Helly shrugged despite very clearly having an idea in her mind, you just couldn’t figure out what it was. “What did you do for fun? Was it always Cobel? Do you have any other friends?”

You giggled at her enthusiasm. “Uh, well for fun it’s kinda just the same basic stuff I do now. Just drawing, talking, that kind of thing. And yes, it’s always been Cobel, as long as I’ve been here at least. Other friends? Never. I didn’t come here too long before you so Dylan, Irv and Mark are the only other refiners I’ve come to know, other than you of course.” Helly seemed interested in what you had to say, like she was exploring a whole new side of yourself.

Then, Helly’s next question almost made you spit out your coffee; “Did you ever… have your first-time?” You were used to sharing everything and anything with Helly, but never had you expected this question to come out of her mouth.

“Uh, I, well no…” You began, stuttering every word. “There’s no one here I’ve ever been attracted to in that way…” You could never imagine doing such a thing with the three refiners you’ve come to know and love. Before Helly you were very close with them, but nothing romantic had ever occurred. They were more like brothers to you, a platonic love. But then, what about the woman who was standing right before you? You had never thought about Helly in that way before, but now that you do it makes a heat crawl up the back of your neck, your toes tingle. It was a strange sensation, but not a disturbing one.

“Ah, okay. Sorry if that freaked you out or anything, I was just wondering if you had an idea of what I missed out on with Mark at the retreat.” Helly brushed off. This thought quickly dulled the pleasant one in your mind with something rotten. Right, she and Mark had technically “done it”. But also, it wasn’t really Helly so did it count?

“Yeah unfortunately I wouldn’t know.” You smiled and Helly took another sip, her lips pursing at the brim. The heat was back, but now it was also pooling in your stomach and traveling lower. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong, but you were imagining a timeline where it was you in that tent instead of Mark, and instead of Helena it was Helly. You could feel yourself visibly getting hotter. You needed to think of an excuse, anything to leave the room and cool down, but of course Helly had to interfere with your plans.

“Are you okay? You look flushed, you’re not getting sick are you?” Helly leaned closer and placed her coffee cup down on the counter. Before you could protest she was already approaching you and placing the back of her hand on your burning forehead. “You feel hot.” How badly you wanted to nuzzle into her touch, indulge yourself in her presence, but instead you stood like a deer in headlights.

“I just-” You need to think of an excuse, anything to get out of this predicament with your dignity, but it was hard when Helly was so close and so kissable. “I’m feeling a little conflicted is all…” This statement made something in her eyes shimmer, something deep.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I can help with that…?” Her tone was curious and challenging. Her piercing eyes slowly gazed at your pressed lips. Subconsciously, you drag your tongue over them, wetting the surface. It felt like she knew exactly what you wanted but was unsure if you wanted to go through with it.

“Maybe you could.” Your voice was now a mere whisper, a quiet statement said just between you two. Your hand gingerly reached for her arm, scared if your movements were too bold she’d realize what she was doing and back away.

“Y’know, Mark wouldn’t be my first choice for my ‘first-time’.” This caught your attention. Helly’s eyes stared into yours through her eyelashes, daringly.

You gulped, “And who would be?”

“I think you can guess…” Her lips were tantalizingly close to yours, the tip of her nose just hovering over yours. She was all too close and yet not close enough. You feel the hot breath of her mouth on yours, it was intoxicating.

“Milchek?” All Helly could do was laugh before making the move to connect your lips and hers. You gasp as her lipgloss merges with your own and mixes with the spit of your hungry mouth. As the kiss deepened Helly leaned you back further on the counter, her hand gripping your waist. Your own hand was still on her bicep, squeezing for dear life as your other hand placed itself on her lower back. For someone who had never kissed someone as herself before Helly was amazingly skilled. She would nip and tug on your lip with precision, unlocking noises from you you’d yet to hear. Now that you had a taste for this sensation you never wanted to part, but unfortunately air was needed. You parted with a wet smack, deep breaths filling the air. You both didn’t move, taking in the moment.

“I-” Before Helly could speak you feverishly clung to her body and pulled her back in. You were not going to give this moment up too quickly. Helly didn’t seem opposed to this notion and quickly continued back in the rhythm. Her hands ran up and down your sides, sending a shiver throughout your body. You were growing hotter by the moment and found yourself cupping at Helly’s body. First her hips, then a little lower to grasp her ass. She responds to your motions with a grunt, which you took as permission to explore further.

Whilst your hands begin to move up again Helly detached herself from your lips. Before you could question her, you felt your neck get attacked by a flurry of kisses. You let out a small whine, trying to be careful as the guys were only so far away, but Helly’s mouth was making it hard to focus. Her lips slowed down into passionate kisses on the side of your neck before finding that sweet spot, the one that made you bunch her clothes up in your hands and shakily breathe out her name. You could feel her smirk against your neck before she started a light sucking motion. Your eyes close in a fit of pleasure, the sensation being the best you’ve felt for your short life. You truly believed it couldn’t get better than this. Your stomach’s heat was growing, alongside something right below. You’ve never felt such a thing before but you quickly recognized it as being aroused.

As Helly’s mouth diligently worked away at your neck, your hands ran up the outside of her dress and found her breasts. Immediately you began cupping them like a starved man. You wish she was wearing a shirt so you could feel them skin to skin, but the dress allowed for little access to such. Without thinking, you grabbed for the zipper of her dress before she slowly pulled away. You almost pouted like a damn kicked puppy as she released you.

With a sympathetic look she whispered, “Not here, they’ll see us.” Her hands were still on your body but you felt absent and pent up. You couldn’t stop, not now, not ever. It had felt too good, how are you supposed to go on your mundane day without such a feeling?

“Please Helly…” You were now begging, pawing at her dress and almost falling to your knees. “Please, I need you. Be my first.” Your pleading clearly had an affect on her as she appeared to be just as disheveled and turned on as you were, which only made you worse.

She leaned in towards your ear, eerily steadily. “Bathroom.” You could only nod, looking in her eyes once more. You let her drag you with one arm, confidently walking with that walk you’ve come to adore. If you could see yourself right now you feel like you’d have love hearts for eyes. You didn’t even mind the fact Dylan was gone when you two sauntered past, or the fact that Mark didn’t even question what the two of you were doing, still on his unresolved rampage. Dude just needs to get laid, you snicker in your mind as you allow yourself to be a ragdoll in Helly’s hands.

It felt too long before you were both in the bathroom, door locked, with Helly’s lips back attacking yours. Before this you never knew how physically possible it was to need someone so bad. Finally, you had the chance to find the zipper on her back and begin tugging on it. Before you get to the bottom you suddenly pull away.

“This is okay that I’m doing this, right?” Above all else, above the passion and lust, you wanted to be sure Helly was comfortable.

“More than okay..” She kissed your cheek. “You can devour me if you wish.” That was all you needed to hear before reconnecting and undressing her. You fumbled with the hook on her bra as she began making her way on your body. You were wearing a shirt and skirt, much easier access than she had been wearing. Her slim hands easily slid under the cotton fabric and under your black bra. Your attempts with her bra only got sloppier as she began to toy with your own breasts, fingertips running over your hard nipple sending a jolt through your body. You’re left breathless as she continues to grope you from under the fabric, swirling over your buds with precision. Whether it was muscle memory from her outie or she was naturally just this good at pleasure you were unsure, but damn were you happy.

Finally, you unhook her bra and her perky tits are released, the cold air causing them to harden. You stared at the display like you’ve never seen anything more beautiful in your life, and perhaps you truly hadn’t. Before you could even think about it, your mouth latched onto her neck and slowly peppered kisses further and further down her body, stopping only just before her nipple. Helly breathed out your name as your lips slowly enveloped the bud, sucking just the tiniest bit releasing a moan from Helly. You smiled, enjoying being the reason for her pleasure and sucked harder. Her hands find your hair and firmly grip the locks, holding you in place. As your mouth worked its magic your hands traveled to her underwear. You lightly push her legs apart and run one finger down the fabric which led to an audible moan.

Before you could continue, Helly pulled your hair up, taking your head with it. “It’s not fair you still get to be clothed while I’m like this.” She stated, surprisingly well put together despite the situation. You can only nod in reaction and she found the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head. “Beautiful…” She muttered, staring at you like a piece of art. Smoothly, she pursed her lips on the top of your right breast and began sucking. After a short time she pulls away and reveals in the sight of the hickey she graciously placed on your chest.

Then, her hands play with the zipper on your skirt, almost teasing you with how slow she was working with the mechanism. “Helly…” You warned, ready to tackle her as your underwear feels wetter by the moment. She only smiles and pulls your skirt down ever so slightly faster. After what feels like an eternity you’re staring there in your underwear and bra with Helly right across from you.

“Now we’re even.” She teases and steps forward, sandwiching you between the counter and herself. Her hand finds its way towards your underwear, dragging two of her fingers over the cloth. “You’re so wet, and just for me huh?”

“Who else?” You playfully say, pulling her closer with a handful of ass. She rolls her eyes before slipping the same two fingers under the fabric and grazing your folds with them, a shaky breath escaping you. You groan a bit, influencing her to keep dragging her fingers back and forth. Her other hand making its way to your bra, skillfully unclipping the clothing with one hand, and cupping your bare breast. She begins fondling and kneading your skin, it felt euphoric to have her touching so many sensitive places at one time. “Keep going…” Is all you can whisper out as she continues rubbing you.

She runs her fingers purposely over the sensitive bean at the top of your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core. As you’re practically gasping for air she teases your hole with a finger before inserting it into you. Helly curled the finger in and out, touching places you’ve never felt before. You didn’t know such a feeling was possible, let alone achievable with such simple touches. Helly was absolutely addicting. You needed more of her.

You hungrily kiss her once again, which causes Helly to halt in her fingering. You whine at the lack of sensation and begin riding your hips back and forth on her hand like an animal. You should have been humiliated, but all you needed right now was her touch. You felt her hand leave your breast and place itself on your hips, guiding them up and down her finger. You begin panting from the combined movement and increasing pit in your stomach.

“You feel,” You grunt a bit, not able to form full sentences, “so good.” It didn’t take long for Helly to add a second finger after your statement, making your back arch against the cool tiles.

“Good, good. That’s why I’m here baby.” Helly coos in your ear, now adding her own motion against your rocking hips. Her thumb was now rubbing over your sensitive spot at the top while her other fingers were effectively exploring every spot of your inner core. You didn’t know how much more you could take with the pit in your stomach growing fast and hard. It felt so overwhelming and yet you never wanted to stop. Your loud moans filled the bathroom and you couldn’t bring yourself to care if others could hear. In your world all it was right now was you, Helly, and her fingers violating your insides.

Upon hearing your sounds of approval Helly whispered in your ear, “You almost there beautiful?” You could only nod, feeling the band inside you coming so close to snapping. “That’s a good girl, let it happen.” Her words filled you with something you couldn’t describe and, all too suddenly, you feel yourself let loose. A surge of endorphins send themselves throughout your entire body, from your brain to your fingertips to your toes. There was no feeling like it, pure bliss. Helly’s fingers were now slowing down, feeling your walls clench on them. She slowly pulled out as you leaned your sweaty body forward and kissed the side of her cheek.

“I hope you had a good first time.” She whispered to you, her head resting on your shoulder and her hand rubbing your back with fondness. You nodded, exhaustedly. Who knew such a wonderful feeling could take so much out of a person? But you weren’t done yet.

“I did,” You muttered against her cheek, “And now it’s your turn.”

“Wha-” Before Helly could finish her question you flipped her over so she was now leaning on the counter.

“You really think I’d let you do that to me and then not give you the same treatment?” You say it like it should be so obvious, which in your opinion it should. You tap on the counter behind you. “Up.” Helly nods and does as you wish. With how assertive she is at times, she can also be so beautifully submissive to you. “Lean back.” She follows without question, washing as you now look at her on display, only her underwear remains. That will have to change. With a swift motion you take off the fabric, they were ruined anyway. Now all that remains is the beautiful image of Helly staring at you with full attention.

You take your hands and slowly pry her legs wide open. You lean forward, sure with your motions as your lips meet her slit. You drag your tongue up, slowly but surely, eliciting a quick shiver from the woman before you. Then, a slower drag. Then faster. You began to pick up a rhythm, one that Helly seemingly agreed with as she began practically grinding on your face, not wanting the motion to stop. “Yes, right there!” She pleads, encouraging you to keep going. Your nose was ever so slightly hitting her bud, increasing her pleasure. You could tell she was getting close by the way her breathing quickens and her motions get sloppy. After about thirty more seconds she unravels in front of you, riding her high through your persistent licks and motions. Shortly after you pulled away and watched as she sat up.

Even in her disheveled state she looked utterly beautiful. You looked at her as if she were a piece of art and wrapped your arms around her waist, a motion she returned. “Thank you, for being my first.” She whispered, embracing your body.

You chuckled a bit, hugging tighter. “Anytime.”

[cultven]

If you're reading this...

go write three sentences on your current writing project.

[cultven]

dream blunt rotation (me and him only, STRICTLY nude)

my one weed smoking girlfriend

[cultven]

Dating Seong Gi-hun (456)

This is right after S1, leading into S2… Wrote this on a complete whim but this man is taking over my senses.

word count: 2.1k

————————

- You’re Gi-hun’s girlfriend he met after the conclusion of the first games.

- You saw him eating alone outside a small convenience store. There was a small feast laid out in front of him, he ate like he was starving. You didn’t doubt this was the case either with how frail he seemed. He looked tattered and broken, not just physically but mentally as well. You considered ignoring him, allowing him the chance to dine in peace, you’ve been in a similar place before. A place where you were alone and beaten, he held the same glint in his eye. But during that time all you needed was a friend, someone to ground you. Maybe you could be that person for this mysterious man. You sat down and the rest is history.

- Gi-hun was hesitant to open up at first. He was very distrusting of everyone and everything. He kept asking if you were with “them”, here to bring him back to some place. He looked like a kick puppy mixed with something sharper inside. After effectively reassuring him you didn’t have any mal intentions, just simple wanting to eat alongside someone, he nodded suspiciously and you two ate your respective meals in silence. Despite the initial hesitation it felt nice for Gi-hun, a slice of normality returning to his life.

- After finishing your meal you assumed this was it for you two, you’d go your separate ways and that would be that. It was a shame, even though the two of you hardly spoke the man had a comforting presence. You wished the best for him. During your polite goodbye and turn to walk away, you felt a pleasant surprise wrap around your wrist. You turn back and see the man looking at the table.

- “My name is Gi-hun.” You smiled.

- You went back to the same store the next day, feeling peckish after your shift. Surprisingly, the very same man was sitting outside in the same spot. You nodded at him as you headed inside, retrieved your food, and sat back down in front of him. This became a ritual between you two. Small conversation over large dinners and a budding relationship between two rather lonely people. You learned of his ex-wife, child, and mother. You learned he can’t drink milk and his array of past occupations. In return you offered facts about your life, some big and some small. Through these conversations you felt like you knew him for years.

- It took six months of this before he asked you on what he considers a “proper date”. After a successful bowling game on your end, the two of you share a passionate kiss in the rain and a brand new title of “girlfriend/boyfriend”.

- This change felt foreign to Gi-hun. He hadn’t dated since he met his ex-wife, and on top of that he considered he’d never feel love again after The Games. He formed relationships in that building that only he owns the memories to now. Old and new friends withered away and were reduced to a number in Gi-hun’s bank account. He couldn’t imagine bearing that loss again and vowed to never form such relationships again. But you were just too damn kind, too addicting. You were something that was able to do what no other drug or substance could, and that was soothe the ache. You didn’t make it disappear, that likely that could never happen, but you made it a good ache. You made him remember the good parts of his friends instead of focusing on the loss. Your smile reminded him of the kind hearted Ali, the quick wit of his beloved friend Sang-woo, and the groundedness of Sae-byeok. You were everything good.

- It took another 3 months for him to invite you to the motel and show you the horrors of his everyday life. The search, the teams he’s configured, and most importantly; The Games.

- He braced himself for impact after he explained everything. He assumed you’d call him a lunatic, accuse him of lying of such a ridiculous claim. But instead you listened. Your reaction was hard to gauge at first, he just couldn’t read you through the anxiety building in him. But then you placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked into your eyes, only finding understanding and sympathy. Everything now made sense. Gi-hun’s nightmares, his skittish behavior, his closed off demeanor. He’s been through something you could barely grasp and all you could do was offer condolences and affection. You wish you could do more but to Gi-hun your soothing words was everything he needed to keep going.

- As the search progressed you were by his side the entire time, through the times where he felt determined and the times where he felt the urge to forfeit. As long as he knew you were waiting for him with a soft smile on your face and a warm meal on the table it was okay. You were the first good and stable thing in his life in a very long time and he could not be more grateful for that.

- Some nights were harder than others. You lay in your shared bed together. There were some nights he’d come home at 3am, others 11pm, and sometimes not at all. You trusted him however. You knew what you signed yourself up for with this relationship and you were not about to backdown now. No matter the hour Gi-hun finally retired to sleep you’d happily wrap your loving arms around his torso and drag him into your world of sleep. One of your favorite sleeping positions you’d wake up to is you curled in Gi-hun’s chest, his arms firmly around you as if protecting you from everything else in the world. You knew no greater peace.

- There was the occasional sleep that’d be interrupted with Gi-hun’s nightmares. He would never tell you exactly what he saw, but you could assume the worst. It was painful for you to watch, but you had to be strong since you were certain Gi-hun’s pain was infinitely worse. You coo in his ear reassurances of where he was and that everything was better than okay. Somedays it worked, he’d surrender to your touch and simply lay with you in his arms, eyes piercing your ceiling fan under the soft lull of your breath calms him for good. Other times he’d have to retreat, pull back from your affection. It wasn’t anything personal, you knew that, it was his way of protecting himself again. It’s what felt right to him in the moment so you simply stood back and let him be. Nothing good ever came from force applied to a person who knows what they need. You trusted Gi-hun’s instincts and knew his patterns well enough to know he wasn’t going to harm himself or anyone around him, he just needed solitude for a bit. Besides, after his breather he always found his way back to you no matter what. You could tell he feels guilty for pulling away, but you suffocate that guilt with soft affection.

- While a large chunk of Gi-hun’s money was spent on resources to find the games, he did enjoy spending money on you. He felt immense guilt about it at first, it was blood money after all. It wasn’t truly his. But he has never been allowed to indulge in life before now, growing up poor and living as such before the games. He always dreamed of spoiling his wife one day, and now he has the chance to do it with you. It wasn’t luxury cars or mansions, you didn’t have the taste for those things anyway, but small things. He’d buy you nice dinners as a thank you for cooking for him so often, a signature necklace so you always have a piece of him over your heart, and a few things for the hobbies you like to indulge in while he’s at “work”. If anything, he thinks of these expenses just as beneficial for him as they are for you. He wants to see you smile and be happy. As long as Gi-hun knows you’re happy at home he’s able to function traveling around South Korea looking for a certain smirking recruiter. Happy girlfriend, happy life, so they say.

- You wish you could help more in his search but Gi-hun strictly forbids it. He’ll share with you what stages they’re at in the investigation, but nothing too descriptive in fear of you being in danger. He didn’t want the people running the games to catch onto his little plans and then see you sitting pretty at his side. Gi-hun knew they’d hurt you before him, it’s the type of scumbags these people are. Malicious and corrupt, not a care for anyone on this Earth except for those considered “elite”. You’ll beg to assist him, if not only for the reason to relieve some of the stress he’s carrying, but he’ll immediately shut the notion down. But after much back and forth you’d come to an agreement, you’d help out a little bit but absolutely no field work. This suited both of you fine; Gi-hun has the security of knowing you’re away from the chaos, and you have the pleasure of knowing you’re helping in doing the right thing. A win-win. But just know Gi-hun ups the security at the Motel by 80% with all new technology just to be safe.

- There isn’t much time away from work for Gi-hun, it’s all that occupies his brain except for images of you. But there are the occasional days you force him to take off. He’ll argue and complain about it, but deep down he knows it’s for his own good. Plus, he could never turn down an opportunity to see you in that cute little sundress you wore on your first ever date. You’ll take him somewhere cute, like a picnic in the park. It’s cheesy and romantic, just the perfect dose of medicine for the brooding Gi-hun. Much of the time he spends outside is usually dark so the sunlight feels nice on his skin. You’ll chat, maybe do a cute craft together while eating a small array of snacks on the blanket. If it’s a rainy day you’ll venture to the local mall or bowling alley, anywhere to get Gi-hun out and about. He’s competitive at bowling and pokes fun at you the entire time, but underneath it all he’s a relatively ass player. Sometimes you’ll allow him to win to see that glimpse of victory on his face, but if he gets a little too cocky with his comments you’ll beat him in the second game with ease. Then after that you’ll drag him to the tiny arcade connected to the alley. He’ll try to win you a stuffed animal, claiming he’ll get it on the first try, and then ends up spending 50 won on a singular machine for a small plushie. It’s adorable.

- Another thing outside you tend to do often is visit his mother’s grave. With his newfound fortune he was able to afford a nice grave in a nice cemetery for her. He always said it was only right to spoil her in the afterlife since he wasn’t able to do so during her time. You found this sediment to be unbelievably sweet. Every Sunday you would drop off flowers at her grave. When asked what her favorite flowers were, Gi-hun solemnly admitted he didn’t know, and so you compromised with a small mix of everything. Oftentimes Gi-hun joined you in these outings, sometimes he was unable to. But without fail you saw her every week. One time you got there a bit early, weaving some of the flowers you brought that week into a flower crown like you had when you were a child. You gingerly placed it on the grave, crowning her spirit. You smiled a warm smile as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “I wish you could have met her. I know she would have loved you, probably more than she loved me.” You giggled.

- Your life with Gi-hun is good. You wished it could stay this way forever, but you knew your time was running thin. It was only a matter of time before he cracked the code to this whole game phenomenon and he’d fall back down the slippery slope of obsession. You love Gi-hun and you know his determination knows no bounds. It’s a little after two and a half years of knowing Gi-hun when he finally hears the news.

- “Sir, we found him.”

(should i write a prt 2 of reader following him to the games?)

[cultven]

Hannigram and 457 are such glorious parallels of one another without trying to be.

Will and Gi-hun both are trying to find the “big bad” person (Chesapeake Ripper/Frontman) alongside the villan in disguise.

Hannibal saw parts of himself in Will and pushed him to evolve and change. In-ho saw parts of himself in Gi-hun and testing him by giving him the knife before the final game, just like he had been given.

But the one thing that is so deliciously important about these ships is that their outcome is so different. Hannibal succeeds in Will’s becoming and they fall together with full understanding of one another. Contrasting to that, In-ho is proven wrong by Gi-hun. Gi-hun goes to do it, knows it’s best for him, but he can’t follow through like In-ho had. In the end, Gi-hun falls alone without ever truly understanding In-ho.

[cultven]

I saw a few posts complaining about how Gi-hun and In-ho never had a “final moment” together and it’s so infuriating. They DID have a final moment; Gi-hun’s last monologue. The players are not horses, they are people. Everyone there may have heard the words come from Gi-hun, but they were meant for In-ho. He was the one who called the participants “horses” to bet on in the first season. That limo scene was the first time we had seen them passively alone together and Gi-hun kept onto that memory until the end, with distain or otherwise.

[cultven]

Inho bringing Gaeyong Gihun's player jacket in Squid Game merch box is a fucked up thing to do.

"Your dad died. Would be a shame if you started looking into it and it led you down the same road your dad took. Maybe you'll succeed in what he started. Most likely not though. See you in a few years when you die trying to seek closure and answers."

[cultven]

not ao3 going down for maintenance when the squid game fandom needs it most

[cultven]

me when i lie on the internet

Hannigram is overrated. That’s all.

[cultven]

Dearest Will…

[cultven]

DENNIS DESTROYS YOUR RELATIONSHIP

Dennis Reynolds x Younger Reader

Always Sunny Masterlist

Summary: Dennis had everything planned out for you in his head. You’d turned 21 now, recently graduated college, and you’d started to kind of work at Paddy’s. Well, you were there multiple times a week so it basically counted. All he had to do now was wait for you to desperately beg him for sex… Which still wasn’t happening. Why? Because you’d gone and gotten yourself a stupid little boyfriend. Shit. That wasn’t part of Dennis’ plan. Not part of the plan at all.

Tags/Warnings: Typical canon IASIP behaviour and language, the gang all equally hating Reader’s boyfriend rip

Word Count: 1.7k

9:27pm

On a Friday

Dennis watches you and your friends drinking in the bar with a simmering, tight-lipped expression, eyes narrowing as your shitty new boyfriend’s hand squeezes your ass like he’s claiming his territory. Dennis’ territory. There’s a flare of something primal in his chest, judgment mixed with blatant disgust, maybe even burning rage. It sure as shit wasn’t jealousy that was for sure. Jealousy implied inferiority, a lack of power or control, and Dennis Reynolds was not lacking in that department.

Still, the quiet squeal you let out and that little laugh, isn’t the one he knows. It’s lighter, fluffier, a little too performative. It’s completely fake. Dennis prides himself on detecting social masks, on spotting the subtle shifts when someone starts reshaping themselves for someone else. And right now, you’re contorting. Mutating. Shrinking. The version of you he knows; the sharp-tongued, perceptive, morally gray wildcard is buried under some glossy, neutered girlfriend act. And for what? This Alex person?

“What is that?” Dennis scoffs to the gang, eyes locked on your alpha-male boyfriend like he’s an invasive species. A pest that needed to be exterminated as soon as humanly possible.

“He’s her boyfriend, dude,” Charlie offers with a shrug, holding a beer in each hand and sipping from them both. “They’ve been dating for a while now, she talks about him here and there.”

“I meant what is that pathetic act she’s putting on for him? The giggly, dumb act.” Dennis gestures vaguely toward the other side of the bar, where Alex is controlling the conversation with the rest of your unimpressive, undeserving friends. All the while staking his claim on you with his arm snaked tightly around your waist. Jesus Christ, how could you be so smart, but associate yourself with such mediocre people as friends? It was almost disappointing to see.

Mac leans in, watching too now. “I gave him an ocular pat down and I got bad vibes right away,” he says matter of factly.

“He’s a tool,” Dee snorts, digging into her purse for a cigarette she didn’t have. “And she’s acting like a Stepford Wife, I don’t buy it. She’s way too cool for him.”

Dennis hums, eyes still tracking you as you laugh at something inevitably dumb and humourless one of those little idiots said and rolling your eyes ever so slightly. There you are. A flicker of the real you, shining through that curated girlfriend facade. The one who used to match Dennis’ quick wit, jab for jab, in a twisted psychological dance no one else could keep up with.

“Yeah,” Dennis murmurs, half to himself as he watches Alex kiss you. “She is.”

Dennis leans back on the bar, arms crossed tightly across his chest as he watches on. You’re still smiling, that dopey post-kiss glow hovering around you like a bad perfume. He hates it. Not because it’s ugly, no quite the contrary. You’re radiant when you’re lit up like this, he just hates it because he didn’t cause it. And worse, this Alex guy was the fucking worst.

Eventually you come back to the bar for two more beers, smiling like a giddy teenage girl. “So… What do you think? He’s cool right?”

“Cool? Yeah, sure. He’s… Cool.” Dennis agrees absentmindedly, pouring you the two beers. One a perfect pour, one with a heady foam. Part of him hoped you’d give Alex that one but you take a sip from it and leave to give him the other pristine pour.

Dennis tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in on you. You’d asked each of the gang what they thought of him at various points of the night using different words. Dennis got ‘cool’ which was such a stupid reason to date someone. With Dee you used the word hot, Charlie and Mac you used funny. God, you were trying really hard to sell the gang on this guy, which meant you weren’t sold on him either. And that was interesting to Dennis. You wanted their validation to reinforce why you were with him in your own mind, convincing yourself why you were dating this schmuck in the first place.

Mac mutters under his breath to Dennis as he sees Alex and one of the other guys walk over to the bar. “He’s coming. Dennis, he’s walking over. He’s coming over here, oh my god,” he frets, before taking a few steps back and letting Dennis handle the conversation himself.

Alex wore his smug shit eating grin almost as well as Dennis did, but it didn’t look or seem quite as natural. It’s like he was trying to be confident and cocky just to prove to other people that he was. Pfft, amateur. The friend beside him was wearing a pair of aviators inside which just screamed desperate. Inside? Jesus Christ, somebody save Dennis from this fresh hell of millennial torture.

“Hey bro, how ‘bout some tequila shots? Say, eight?” Alex says to Dennis before looking at his friend next to him to confirm. “Eight, yeah.”

Dennis tries his hardest not to spit out something snarky under his breath like he’s looking at a swarm of termites heading straight for the foundation of something he built. “Coming right up,” he grins, turning around and grabbing one a bottle of tequila. “You’re Alex, right?”

“In the flesh, my guy. Why, what’ve you heard?” He laughs.

“Nothing bad, I swear.” Dennis laughs back, raising his hands in mock surrender before pulling out eight shot glasses. “We’ve just been wanting to meet ‘the boyfriend’ for a while now.”

Alex pulls a face, his mouth flattening to each side and he looks over at his friend with a knowing look. “Boyfriend? Yikes…”

Dennis doesn’t react. Instead, he glances at Alex and his lips curl into a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yikes? Why yikes, are you guys not dating?”

“I mean, yeah we’re dating but I’m just… Sooo not a labels guy, you feel me? They’re so… Restrictive.” Alex rationalises. “Old-school.”

This mother fucker… Dennis knew what a piece of shit looked like and here Alex was, standing right in front of him with a stench stronger than Charlie and Frank after one of their sewer adventures. “Dude, you’re preaching to the choir,” Dennis chuckles, pouring tequila in each of the shot glasses. “So it’s like, open or…”

“Nah, nah… I’d probably fucken kill her if she screwed another guy.” Alex laughed, his friend pushing his sunglasses on the top of his head and laughing along with him. “But if a hotter chick came along wanting a little taste… Well… You can’t blame a guy for being charitable, right?”

Dennis says nothing at first. Just stands there smirking, a slow inhale filling his chest as if he’s recalibrating and plotting out his new strategy. He wasn’t the type to ever settle down or tie himself down to one woman, in fact those were all words he’d probably said himself. But hearing it from Alex? Hearing him say it about you?

He was fucking livid.

“I hear you, dude. Fuck being tied down to one girl, am i right. There’s always someone hotter out there,” Dennis laughs, playing the typical shallow frat boy type to match Alex’s energy. “You ever been to Marquee?”

“The club in Rittenhouse? Nah, is it good?”

Dennis cracks a smile, “It’s pretty good. But the chicks there?” He whistles. “So fucking hot, dude... And the club has unisex bathrooms if you catch my drift.”

Alex and his friends excitedly clap their hands together like some brotherly douchebag pact, deciding that Marquee was exactly where they were heading after this. Too bad you had an exam to study for, otherwise you’d go with them. But something told Dennis you wouldn’t like what you’d see if you went.

“Hey, you want salt and lime for these?” Dennis asks, “On the house, don’t worry ‘bout it man.”

“Hell yeah, salt and lime. Pour yourself one too brother!” Alex grinned, calling over your group of friends and holding his arm out until you joined him by his side.

“What have you guys been talking about? Anything fun I missed out on?” You asked playfully, though Dennis could sense the subtle anxiety lurking beneath your tone.

“Nah, just last night’s game. But this guy, he’s a fucken’ g! Gave us shots on the house.” Alex smiled, looking at Dennis with a knowing look.

Dennis just smiles and lifts the tequila shot up with you all, “Go birds.”

The second your friends say goodbye to you and leave for Marquee, Dennis mutters quietly to Frank and tells him to meet him in the alley as he pulls his deck of cigarettes out from his pocket and sticks one in his mouth. The door swings shut behind him and he paces back and forth waiting for Frank to follow him out.

“What’s up? It’s cold as shit out here.”

Dennis flicks the ash from his cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest for warmth, “I need a hooker.”

Frank chuckles, “You needa bang out all that jealous energy?”

Dennis scoffs. “No, I need a relationship ruiner… Someone hot, but not too hot that she looks like a hooker. And she needs to go to Marquee tonight to fuck that Alex kid.”

Frank’s eyes light up like he’s just been asked to coordinate a small war. “Ohhh, a bit of dirty sabotage, hey? I like this plan, Dennis. Real scumbag energy. You want drugs involved? I know a broad who’s always holding, but still pretty classy. Can plant some in his pants if we wanna go down that road.”

Dennis paces a little, running a hand through his hair. He looks less like a man of sound mind and more like a cult leader trying to reorganize the hierarchy of power. “No, no drugs, Frank. I just need him to cheat, not get arrested.”

Frank shrugs and pulls a wad of cash from his pocket. “Alright, what’s your budget?”

Dennis waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t care. Just make sure she’s got all of her teeth and is young enough for him to believe she wants to fuck him.”

Frank cackles. “Got just the one. Her name’s Tanya. Real professional. I’ll send you her number.”

“Perfect,” Dennis says coldly, pushing open the bar door and fixing his collar in the warped mirror on the wall. He looks at himself the way a king might study a battlefield from his ivory tower. Watching the bloodshed and carnage from above, pulling the strings like a puppeteer.

And tonight there would be carnage.

[cultven]

THE PUSSY METHOD VS THE DENNIS SYSTEM

Dennis Reynolds x Reader

Always Sunny Masterlist

Summary: Dennis’ system to manipulate women was morally bankrupt and ethically grey on so many levels, you and the gang knew that the second you heard him explain it. You also knew that it was a formula that had worked on nearly every woman but you. Why? Because you had your own set of rules for maintaining power over men, especially Dennis.

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of sexual manipulation from our main man Dennis, themes of sexism and misogyny, brief mention from Dee about eating disorders, other typical stereotypes and canon themes in IASIP.

Word Count: 5.3k

1:36pm

On a Friday

Dee had pulled you aside for a ‘girl chat’ about three minutes after getting to Paddy’s, desperate to rant about her issues to another woman. Men don’t understand. They never understand. But the guy she was currently screwing (and falling head over heels for) had left her on read for a whole 9 hours and she needed womanly advice.

What a travesty.

"Everything is always on his terms. Any time I ask to hang out, he's busy. Or I ask to get a drink and he's ‘busy’. But he’ll be out with his buddies drinking and ask to hang out afterwards just because he wants to get laid."

Dennis who was sitting at the other end of the bar huffed at his sister. At the volume they were talking, he couldn’t avoid eavesdropping even if he tried. "And I bet you fold every time.”

She snaps back at him, "Hey! Women are allowed to be horny too. And I’m not folding for the guy, I just want to have fun and screw around a bit. Sue me.”

“Yet here you are, worrying about him not responding to a text." Dennis critiques.

Mac decides to chime in out of curiosity, “What was your last message to him?”

Dee pulls out her phone and pulls up the text thread. “Okay so I said ‘the other night was fun’ with a winky face and he said ‘haha yeah it was’ so then I was like ‘hahaha’ back and then he left me on read.”

Mac screws his face up, “Well, that’s why. How is he supposed to keep the conversation going when you only sent back a ‘haha’?”

“I said haha-ha though. Like three ha’s. Not just two.”

Dennis mutters to himself under his breath, groaning at his sister’s sheer lack of charisma, “Jesus fucking Christ.” How could they possibly be related? That he wondered on a daily basis. “What do you expect him to say to that?”

“I dunno like… Let’s go get dinner? I miss having your tits in my face?”

“What tits?” Mac quips.

Dee pulls her arm back to take a swing at him but luckily you grab it just in time. “Okay! Woah! Let’s take it down a notch, shall we? They’ve got a point, y’know.”

“I had an eating order in eighth grade and it stunted my development, okay?!” Dee protested, though nobody in the room was convinced that it was the reason she had A cups. Tragic for her yes, but not nearly as tragic as using it as a sad excuse for her chest size.

“I meant about responding to a ‘haha’ text. It’s super dry, it kills the conversation.”

“So you’re saying I should send him another text that’s easier to respond to…” Dee said completely missing the point. “Like a question. He can’t not reply to a question, right?”

You sigh and take her phone out of her hands before she can start typing, putting it on the bar behind you. She wasn’t getting the fucking point. Dennis in the meantime had gone into the back office and came back out carrying an easel, a giant pad of paper and a permanent marker between his teeth. “Everybody sit down. Class is in session.”

It was a solid twenty minutes of non-stop ego stroking whilst Dennis boasted about his twisted ability to manipulate women into having sex with him. The DENNIS system, he called it. God, it made you roll your eyes so much you could’ve sworn they rolled back inside your head. You listened, sure, you paid attention, yeah, but you were scribbling on a coaster towards the end out of sheer boredom.

“And there you have it,” he finally finished, eyes gleaming with that patented ‘I’m smarter than all of you’ smirk as he tapped the end of the marker against each letter of his name. “D, E, N, N, I, S… My comprehensive approach to seduction that I have not only perfected over the years, but has allowed me to become the playboy that I am today.”

“Playboy? That’s how you see yourself?” Dee scoffs.

Dennis shoots her a sideways glare, the kind that says don’t test me bitch with a hint of amusement at her audacity to even challenge him. “Yeah, Dee. Playboy. The kind of playboy who understands the human psyche better than anyone here.”

He looks at you specifically when he says that last part. Reminding you that studying your stupid little masters degree still put you beneath him. You’d never be able to trump his natural psychological prowess. Not now, not ever.

Charlie’s nodding enthusiastically like he understands any of this, whilst Dee’s muttering something under her breath about being a real life psychopath. It’s not entirely inaccurate but it’s also not the insult she thinks it is. If anything he’d take it as a compliment, then outline the difference between psychopathy and sociopathy to correct her. And you? You’re just mulling everything over.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. What’s the matter? Processing? Analysing? Judging?” Dennis presses.

He’s baiting you on purpose, practically fishing for a reaction on a silver platter and hoping you’d fall for it hook, line and sinker. Not because he needs the validation but because he enjoys the mental sparring with you. You’ve always had this maddening way of seeing through the theatrics without immediately calling him out, letting his little show play out just to watch how it ended.

“Honestly?” You say putting down your pen. “I get it. I mean, sure it’s a bit gimmicky using the letters of your own name but the system checks out,” you shrugged casually.

Dennis isn’t buying it. He’s waiting for the next ‘but’ because knowing you, he knows you’ll try to challenge his thinking. You always do. Even if you thought the same thing he did and actually agreed on something, you posed the opposing side of the coin just for fun. Just to see what he’d do and where he’d go with it.

He stands up straighter, head cocking to the side. “Okay,” he says, voice slow and measured like he’s trying to read the hidden meaning behind the look on your face. “You get it.” He glances over at Mac, who looks downright disturbed by the situation unfolding in front of them all. “Hear that Mac? She gets it.”

Mac is also cottoning on to the fact that you’re not arguing back with Dennis either, which is why he wants zero part in this whatsoever. He’s seen you and Dennis bicker with each other more than anyone else had and he knew that whenever it got too heated, it ended with an argument or with sex. Or both. But no challenge at all? No side commentary or under the breath quips?

This was unprecedented.

Uncharted territory.

Dennis squints at you, smile frozen mid-smirk, “You’re about to tear my little system apart, aren’t you? You’ve got that excited little twinkle in your eye.”

You just laugh and shake your head. “What do you want me to say? You designed this system to use women for sex, and that’s exactly what it does. There’s no need for me to tear it apart. It’s fucked up, sure, but I respect the formula.”

He paces a step, gesturing broadly toward the paper. “Oh, come on! You respect it? Fight with me a bit here! You’re not going to say it’s emotionally hollow? That it only ‘works’ because I’m dealing with women who don’t see it coming?”

He leans against the bar now, arms folded as he challenges you with that oh so familiar look. The look that always meant ‘say something smart so I can be annoyed at how hot I think it is.’

Dennis’s eyes narrow. Not in anger but in suspicion. Genuine, quiet, cerebral suspicion. The way he stares at you now is different than the usual back-and-forth you two volley for sport. This isn’t playful anymore. This is a man watching someone not take his delicious bait… which was somehow more threatening than if you’d torn the whole system to shreds.

“I don’t like this,” Mac mutters. “What’s going on here? You’re supposed to argue with him. That’s, like, your whole deal. You fight and then he gets all weird and sweaty and you guys end up banging or not speaking for days on end.”

“I don’t get sweaty,” Dennis snaps automatically before turning back to you. “But he has a point, one of two things is happening right now. One, you’ve completely given up on intellect and decided to roll around in the filth with the rest of these idiots…” He pauses, eyes scanning yours, “Or two, you’re screwing with me.”

There’s a flicker of something in his chest. Not fear, not anxiety — no, those weren’t in his vocabulary unless he was pretending to be capable of feeling them in order to make someone reveal their own vulnerabilities. This was out of curiosity.

Dennis crosses his arms over his chest. “So which one is it?”

“Neither, both, I dunno…” You say almost thinking aloud. “The end goal of your system is to have no strings attached sex with women. Yeah?”

Dennis’s pupils dilate in excitement. “Yeah,” He answers, almost moaning the god damn word from the depths of his very core. You finally hit the ball back into his court. Here it is. That sweet, sweet, psychological foreplay. He wishes he could bottle this shit up and snort it, it gives him that much of a high.

The rest of the gang is watching like it’s some kind of demented tennis match. Charlie’s squinting between you both. Dee’s chewing a piece of gum like it’s popcorn. Mac looks deeply uncomfortable, mostly because he can’t tell if you two are about to fight, kiss, or start diagnosing each other with cluster B disorders in Latin.

“And you’ve used this system countless times on women to from step 1 to step 6, every time. But, I’m a woman who’s had sex with you and you haven’t used those 6 steps on me, so…” you trail, shrugging gently.

That one stumps Mac. And Frank. And Charlie too, the three of them so intrigued now, they turn towards Dennis to elaborate or explain himself. Dee doesn’t really give a shit but she watches anyway. She likes watching you fight with Dennis because it was amusing to watch her brother lose. Even if he won in the end, it was fun to watch him squirm during it.

Something flickers behind his eyes, the faintest of cracks in his perfectly crafted mask. But in the blink of an eye it’s gone, buried under the usual arrogant smirk. You saw it though, oh you definitely saw it.

“Well,” he says, voice tightening just slightly. “That’s not entirely true now is it?”

“Isn’t it?”

Dennis doesn’t answer you.

Truth is you never fit the system. You didn’t fall for his attempts to demonstrate his value because you already knew his value (and his pathology). You didn’t need to be engaged physically because you’d already done it before you both met properly. And you weren’t afraid to initiate it again after the fact. You never depended on him emotionally, and you sure as hell didn’t chase him whenever he got distant. He pulled away, and you just… let him. Like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter.

Boy, did it drive him fucking insane.

“I didn’t use the system on you,” Dennis finally mutters, “because I didn’t have to.” He says it like it’s a defense. But it sounds a lot more like a confession.

Mac screws his face up, “Wait, so do you use a different system for her or do you just not use one at all.”

You look back to Dennis for his answer, amused by the fact that you were the one person who didn’t fit his typical cookie cutter approach.

“I have a different system. More advanced, more variables and parameters and shit,” Dennis lies though you don’t believe him for a second. “It’s ‘cos the usual chicks I bang didn’t study psychology at an Ivy League college, so I obviously have to pivot my strategy to accommodate for that.”

Dennis delivers the lie so smoothly, so confidently, that for a second even he almost believes it. His posture shifts, arms folding across his chest again like he’s reclaiming dominance over the narrative. “It’s adaptive manipulation. You wouldn’t get it.”

You can see it plain as day; he’s scrambling. Not out of fear, but out of… necessity. Control. You weren’t supposed to be the exception. There weren’t supposed to be any exceptions at all but lo and fucking behold, here you are.

“Okay, ” you agree calmly. Just one word. Nothing else was necessary.

Mac nods and agrees too, as if he understood from the get-go. “And obviously you can’t tell us what system you use for her cos like, she’s sitting here right now.”

Dennis points sharply at Mac without even looking at him, eyes still locked on you. “Exactly. Thank you, Mac. Finally, you’re catching up.”

He turns slightly now, addressing the group like a magician keeping up his illusion. “I can’t lay out the particular framework with the subject of the experiment in the room. That would corrupt the data. She’d be too self-aware. It would defeat the purpose it before I could even initiate the first phase.”

“That’s true,” Charlie mutters. “She’s got that whole Professor X mind control thing goin’ on.” He taps the side of his head as if he’s cracked the case.

“She’s not a superhero Charlie, you’re just on the opposite end of the spectrum. You’re a super moron,” Dee scoffs casually, sipping her drink as though she hadn’t just watched Dennis spiral into a full-blown psychological tailspin masked by his bravado and textbook psychology jargon.

Frank debates whether the opposite end of the spectrum would actually be super villain, not super moron because that would imply she was a super genius instead of a super hero. Dee couldn’t care less and had tuned out by now. She was over it.

Dennis runs a hand through his hair, his voice cooler now. More composed, like he’s recovering. “Look, you guys aren’t grasping the sophistication of what’s happening here. She isn’t just some random outlier. This is a back and forth experiment that only the two of us understand as academic elites. A deviation that proves the limits of the original system and necessitates an evolved model. I mean, why else do you think I keep her around?”

Charlie nods dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, she’s like… your brain nemesis. We get it.”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “Sure. My brain nemesis.”

Dee frowns, “Guys, can I remind you why we got the easel out in the first place? The DENNIS system didn’t help me with my issue at all… I asked you guys for advice on whether or not I’m getting played by this guy and all you did was explain how you screw over women. That’s not helpful for me at all.”

You jump up from your seat and put your hand out towards Dennis, but he just looks down at it confused. “What?”

“Gimme the marker.” As he hands it to you, you walk up to the A-frame and flip over the pad to a fresh new page.

Mac gets excited, “Ohhhh shit! Are we doing another lesson?”

You nod and pull the marker cap off, “Dee needs an answer to her issue right? And Dennis obviously didn’t help Dee…and why is that?”

“Cos Dee‘s an idiot?” Mac suggests calmly.

You sigh, “No, because she’s a woman.”

“I rest my case,” Mac chuckles, high fiving Charlie.

You flash him a warning look and he raises his hands in mock surrender before you turn back to the easel and start writing in giant letters:

THE PUSSY METHOD

Frank claps and rubs his hands together excitedly, “Ayooo! I like the sound’a this already!”

The title alone had caught Dennis’ attention. Pussy? That was something he knew like the back of his hand, he loved pussy. Yours included. Though his smugness was short lived once he realised that you having your own system meant he was an unknowing player in a game he didn’t know the cheat code for. It was unsettling.

“What are we looking at here?” Dennis asks flatly, masquerading his curiosity.

Charlie leans closer to him, “It says pussy.”

“I can read. Thank you.” Dennis huffs at his illiterate friend. He didn’t even acknowledge that Charlie could read this particular word but not the rest of the English language. “What about pussy?”

“It‘s another word for vagina.” Charlie adds, though none of them needed the clarification.

Dennis sighs deeply, “Yeah Charlie, I know. I get more of it than all of you combined.”

Mac enthusiastically adds to the clusterfuck of a conversation with a statement both unnecessary as it was untrue, “I like pussy too! I love me some good pussy.”

“Oh my fucking god, just shut the fuck up all of you…” You groan, turning back to the easel and blocking them out. “It’s 5 simple rules, okay? That’s it. That’s all this is.”

Charlie raises his hand as if to ask permission to speak, but speaks regardless. "I feel excluded by the pussy method," he whined with a gentle pout.

Dennis furrows his brows at his poor sad sack of a friend next to him with zero empathy, "You exclude yourself, by not having sex.”

“What? No dude, I do sex all the time-“ Charlie flusters. “I meant cos I’ve got a penis.”

You sigh at them and point at the board with the marker, trying to bring their attention back to the matter at hand. “Well this isn’t really for you Charlie. It’s for Dee.” You say bluntly. “Now, what is sex?”

“Making love.” Mac interrupts without thinking twice, letting the hopeless romantic part of his brain speak for once. Sad but cute.

He smiled smugly, proud of himself since he thought it was the answer you were looking for. It wasn’t. In fact you weren’t looking for an answer to the rhetorical question at all. Then Dee started throwing rapid fire answers at you; sex is good, bad, hot, fun, sweaty, sexy, horny, dumb, fun (already said that), gross, workout, kinky, tiring, hot (she said that one too). The list went on and on and on until finally she jumped up from her chair and yelled at the group excitedly.

“A game! Sex is a game!” She shouts. “Ha! Suck it wangs, I won.”

You take a deep breath and mutter under your breath to try and compose yourself. “Jesus fucking Christ… It was a rhetorical- Never mind.”

There’s only a brief moment of silence before Charlie’s undiagnosed… everything made him fill it with more words. “Wait is this a trick question? Maybe we’re supposed to think about what sex isn’t…”

You sigh, exasperated, “Forget about the question. You all just proved my point anyway. Sex is different for everyone but really, it’s just about getting some pussy or dick. The DENNIS system is about external manipulation. Tricks, tactics, a little showmanship and a whole lot of narcissism all to get what in the end? Pussy.”

Dennis rolls his eyes and scoffs, “A bit of an oversimplification there, but sure. It’s about pussy.”

“And Dee, you’re giving this guy what he wants which is sex but ultimately you’re playing herself.” You state bluntly.

“Ooohh!” Charlie yells, like you just roasted her on purpose.

Dee scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not an insult, it’s basic psychology,” you say with a shrug. “The brain doesn’t like cognitive dissonance. So when someone’s being used but still sticks around, the brain will rationalise why you’re staying. You start telling yourself things like, oh maybe he is interested in me but he’s just bad at texting. Or convincing yourself you want to be casual but cry whenever he mentions banging other girls. My personal favourite? Maybe he’s just scared that he’s getting feelings for me and that’s why he’s pulling away.”

Dee snorts, “He is getting feelings for me. He’s just a scared little bitch.”

You finish your point with a flourish of your wrist towards her. “Self-deception is the worst type of manipulation because it’s the one you do to yourself in order to avoid admitting that you’re wrong.“

Mac is slack-jawed now. “Whoa…”

Charlie nods solemnly. “It’s like… Dee’s been doing the DENNIS system to herself...”

You’d nearly given up trying to even start explaining your little method by now, god knows you overestimated their attention spans. Whenever any of you fuckers had an idea, you took it and ran with it. ADHD, all of you. Fucking Energizer bunnies. It just so happened to be extremely annoying when you were on the receiving end for once.

Dennis for once, was quiet. Just watching you at the front of his a-frame, schooling the room with a clinical ease that’s got his ego twitching. And his dick but that wasn’t even on his radar right now.. You turn back towards the a-frame and the marker squeaks against the page as you write underneath the title, your body covering the words until you stepped back and revealed your own acrostic.

P – Play dumb

U – Understand their habits

S – Set your standards

S – Satisfy yourself first

Y – Yield nothing

Mac raises his hand, “Is this the girl version of the D.E.N.N.I.S system but on how to get dick?”

“No, it’s not a girl version of his system. It’s not even a system really, it’s more like a set of rules to live by. The reason his system works on all these women, is because they relinquish their control to him. But the PUSSY method ensures you maintain it. It’s not about getting what you want from someone, it’s about getting what you need from yourself so that you don’t have to go out and search for it.”

That’s when Dennis realises that you are about to absolutely, without a doubt, ruin his entire day. Probably in a way that’s going to live rent-free in his mind for the next several years. Or forever. He had no idea how this was going to go, he just knew he was deeply threatened.

Dee perks up now, arms crossed over her chest but intrigued nevertheless. “Okay… I like the sound of this whole power and control thing. Go on.”

You explain the first letter; P, which is the starting point for getting a man to think he has control over you when he doesn’t. By playing dumb, they instantly think they’re above you, and therefore won’t try as hard to conceal their true motives. You’ll see them for what they are right away. Then the second letter, understanding their habits, another straightforward one.

"Understand his habits," you say before smacking the page. "And I don’t mean you’ve gotta learn what he eats for breakfast or what time of day he goes to the gym or takes a shit. I mean, use his own red flags against him. Use his behaviour as a guide on how you should act. He always flakes on your plans? Stop making them. He only messages you at night? Respond during the day. If he wants to see you, he will put in the time and effort to see you."

You then tap the marker against the first S; the third and most difficult step. "Set your standards. Or as I like to call it, separate girlfriend privileges.”

“What’s a girlfriend privilege?” Frank frowns.

“They’re the things you refuse to do until you're given the level of commitment and communication you want. The extras. The sprinkles. The cherry on top of an already great package. Aka, you. These are things like cooking for him, doing his laundry, giving him deeper levels of emotional support and letting him cry on your shoulder. Things like letting him hit it raw… Meeting your parents… Anal… Those kinds of things,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“I’ve had plenty of women give me all of those things after knowing them less than twenty four hours.” Dennis scoffs, not buying into your lacklustre ‘method’.

“That’s ’cos they’re whores.” Frank adds.

You walk behind the bar and pour yourself a beer, not needing to stand in front of the easel the entire time like Dennis had done. You didn’t crave their undivided attention like he did. And you were thirsty.

“No matter how Freudian we want to get here, all men have something weird and oedipus-y deep down inside them. They all have mommy issues, some are just more obvious than others. Dee, you're not his mother and you never will be, so theres no reason you should be nurturing him or looking after him. He shouldn’t be able to reap the emotional benefits of a relationship without commitment.”

Dee chuckles, "Oh, I am a-okay on that front... I hate cooking, I hate cleaning and I hate hearing about people bitch and moan about their issues."

“What a catch..." Dennis murmurs under his breath.

You give her a firm look as her phone vibrates in her jacket pocket and she rushes to check it, praying to herself that it's the man who had been ghosting her. Which it wasn't. Of course.

You chuckle to yourself, "Depending on how close you actually are with this guy, saving his name in your phone is another girlfriend privilege."

“How are you supposed to know who it is?” Charlie questions.

"Identifying nicknames. Like CrossFit Guy, dude from Starbucks, Eagles wide receiver, short king with good hair," you suggest casually, taking a sip from your beer and wiping the foam from your top lip with the back of your hand gently.

A pang of jealousy strikes through Dennis as he hears you rattle off the examples so easily. He has a strong sense that these 'random' examples could definitely be found as contacts in your phone if he were to scroll through it right now. Which reminds him, he hasn’t gone through your phone in several months now. He needs a refresh.

Mac holds his hand out to stop you from saying another word, “Are you telling me you’ve slept with DeSean Jackson?!”

“Mac, don’t interrupt.” You dismiss, turning back to Dee without giving him the satisfaction of a proper answer. Maybe you had, maybe you hadn’t.

"If you can't remember who they are from that, they're obviously not memorable enough to pursue. You don't need to refer to them by name until they've proven themselves worthy of being spoken about or introduced to anyone important."

Dennis scoffs, “That’s so dehumanising… And you all call me the serial killer of the group.”

You roll your eyes at him as you take a few more gulps of your beer, “What are the names of the past three women you’ve had sex with, hm?”

The group all looked towards him in unison, doubting he even asked them for their names in the first place let alone care enough to remember them. You knew Dennis couldn’t remember because he was glaring at you with a deeply chilling scowl instead of answering you. Checkmate.

“Irrelevant.” He says bitterly.

“What about half the names on your sex tapes? Aren’t there like, six different baristas? You can only tell them apart because of the star rating and ‘big tits’ or something in brackets”.

Touché.

“Anyway, if they were actually that good at sex, you would remember their names.” You said smugly.

Double touché.

“Second ‘S’ is for ‘satisfy yourself’ which kinda just speaks for itself. Dee, your homework for tonight is to order yourself some takeout, watch a movie and go to bed with just you and your vibrator.”

“Gross.” Mac mumbles.

Dennis silently thinks to himself, trying to work backwards to figure out where your little method even stemmed from. It’s highly defensive, he’ll give you that much. And it’s a way to protect yourself, sure. But why are you so adamant on not needing anything from anyone? Where does this intense self sufficiency come from? He has to spend time digging into your past and uncover the trauma, back into your childhood when you had needs that were left unfulfilled to the point you had to go out and fill them yourself. Because people like that, people who don’t need anything from anyone? They’re either liars or they’re wounded, he knew that for a fact.

He doesn’t need to dismantle your method. He just needs to find your origin story.

“Lastly, yield nothing. Not your time. Not your energy. Not your mental health. Nothing. You don’t give anything away to someone who hasn’t earned it. I can guarantee this guy doesn’t give a shit about whether you’re stressed out over his text messages or how often you cry yourself to sleep from desperate loneliness. He doesn’t care, Dee. If he cared, you wouldn’t feel like this. So, stop giving a shit.”

Dee huffs, "So what, I'm just supposed to never have sex again unless I'm in a relationship? No thank you.”

"Say hello to a life of celibacy then Dee, because no man is ever going to want to date... That." Dennis gestures his hand towards her body with a look of disgust on his face.

You interrupt before she feels the overpowering urge to hit him. “No, no, no. You can still fuck whoever you want without being in a relationship. You just need to not seem so desperate for it. Maintain the power, fuck him on your own terms.”

Dennis’ eye twitches, the only outward evidence of the full body psychological meltdown occurring inside of him. “How long have you had this little method of yours, hm?”

“Like, ten minutes after you started talking about the DENNIS system? I mean, I’ve followed these basic rules for years but I came up with the name today.”

“Today,” he repeats flatly, feeling as though he’d just been shot in the head with an arrow and given a lobotomy at the same time.

“Yeah,” you nod, casual as ever. “I wrote it out on a coaster when you went off on a tangent talking about lying to that pharmacist chick about your fake grandma.”

Dee laughs, like an actual snort, and Dennis shoots her a look that could light her on fire if he had telekinetic abilities.

You smile softly, “Obviously I don’t expect you to remember all of this Dee, but if you just remember that the sperm chases the egg, you’ll be sweet.”

You notice the look on Dennis’ face, how it’s all starting to make sense inside his head. All the times you didn’t call him back. Every time you left his apartment first. Every time he caught himself wondering why you weren’t like the others. Why he didn’t have you in the palm of his hand the way he had done with all the rest. It was never an accident. It was your stupid god damn method.

Mac hums. “How come you just exposed your system to Dennis if you’ve slept with him before?”

You smirk, “Brilliant question Mac. Thank you for asking. It’s because the entire basis of the PUSSY method is about not needing anything from other people. Even if a guy knows my method and understands how I think, he can’t change the fact I don’t actually need him for anything.”

The word ‘need’ cuts through his facade like a knife. A blow to the ego. You’ve just yanked the rug out from underneath him because the DENNIS system doesn’t work if his target doesn’t need anything from him. If they aren’t desperate to feel valued, chosen, worshipped, wanted…then what power does he really have? Dennis now realises he can’t crack you with his basic one size fits all system. If he wants to win you over, he needs to shift his strategy to a long play; he has to make you need him.

“Any other questions?” You smile sweetly at the gang, wrapping this whole thing up around the same time you finished your beer.

Mac raises his hand yet again, “Yeah, hi, me again. Did you, or did you not, sleep with DeSean Jackson.”