#because it really does blow my mind and make my heart feel like it might explode knowing that people are reading my stories

[alltoowille]

writing update :)

-i know i said painter au chapter 9 was nearly finished but then i … decided to essentially rewrite it lol (i’m much happier with it now it’ll be worth the extra wait) it’s still not finished but i’m back in the groove and making good progress now

-i wrote a oneshot that people seem to really be enjoying! you know i love a little wilmon confronting trauma moment

-lake house .. so sorry to my lake house stans but editing it is tedious and i really don’t want to update until i’ve edited the past chapters, plus i think chapter 10 may need some rewrites so i’m not sure when she’ll be out but i promise it’s not abandoned! bear with me 😫

-lastly: i don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up but twitter got ahold of my maddierosh fic and really loved it so there’s been some … ideas for a follow up bouncing around in my little brain … it’s not my priority but sometimes i like to churn out a oneshot if i’m struggling with my longer pieces so who knows

thank you for your patience; and if you want faster updates i swear almost every comment i receive genuinely spurs me to open my google docs app and keep going in that very moment so do not underestimate the effectiveness of dropping a short lil comment on an old piece if you’re feeling impatient <3

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Stoner!Choso x reader

Cw: smut

My stoner Choso is a loser and I love him like this 🤧

“You look stressed,” Choso says, looking at you as he leaned against his car. “It was a stressful day,” you retorted, leaning against his car right next to him. He gives you a small smile as he takes a hit from the blunt between his fingers. 

You and Choso were friends. Really close friends. That was it. Both of you too scared to even say anything for the sake of your friendship. You were okay with this, he liked hanging out with you and so did you. But sometimes you catch yourself thinking, what would it be like to be more.  To be his. Would your relationship really change? You both already acted so much like a couple. 

The blunt comes slowly down from his lips, he looks over to you and smirks. You knew what he was about to do. “NO” you say suddenly, as he comes closer to blow the smoke in your face. “Ew, Cho. You know I hate that shit,” you remark as you try to waft the smoke out of your face. “I know,” he replies with a deep chuckle with no amount of remorse. “Want a hit?” he quickly asks, holding up the blunt. You think for a good few seconds but, obviously too long for how impatient Choso is because he’s already holding the blunt to your mouth already. “Go,” he encourages you as you begin inhaling. “Woah, woah slow down,” he smirks, removing the blunt from your lips. He watches you attentively as you exhale, studying your face as you glare at him. “I don’t like that,” you say with a small cough. 

He gives you a shit-eating grin before he takes another hit. “Wanna hear music then? Might help you relax,” he looks over to you once again exhaling the smoke. “I guess,” you say as you watch him walk over to the driver's side to turn on the car. He shifts through songs until he finds one he's sure you'd both like. “This good?” he asks as he hops out of the car. As you nod he sticks his hand out to you. “What?” you laugh. “Dance with me,” he requests. You can’t help but think how cute he looks, like a puppy with those big brown eyes begging you. “You’re high,” you scoff, giving him a smile. “No…” he grins again, taking your hands and pulling you closer into him.

You dance together, both of you high out of your minds with clumsy steps. Stepping on his feet more than you’d liked to admit, but you still notice the way he looks at you. His eyes half closed, slightly red, gazing intently at you. Lips slightly chapped and parted, his hair down, head slightly tilted as you feel him leaning in closer and closer into you. Your heart beats faster as you become more conscious of his hands. Wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he is afraid you’ll run away from him. 

And before you know it, you're making out with him against his car. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers threading through his soft brown strands, while his hands gently trace any exposed skin he can find as his other hand holds your thigh up, pulling you closer to him. Kisses growing hotter and more needy, he can’t help but slowly grind into you. Desperate for some type of friction against his hard-on and you gladly meet his sudden movements. Bodies pressed together as they move in a rhythmic motion, unable to stop the urge to get closer to each other. Choso leaves your lips with a small tug. “More… more please,” he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

Placing small kisses on your neck, you can’t help but give into him. Especially once you’re in his car, windows all fogged up, and his fingers deep inside you. “So pretty f’me” he coos as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Does.. does it feel good?” he hesitantly asks. “Yes, yes, so good cho.” As you make his confidence spike with your praise, he turns you over so you're now face to face sitting on him. “Please, can you please ride me?” he begs you, flashing you once again those big brown eyes. And who are you to deny this pretty boy… 

“Fu- fuck… baby,” Choso whines, trying to buck his hips up into you. “Wait, be patient cho,” you line up his cock to your entrance and slowly move down onto him. “So pretty,” Choso gawks at you as his hands come up to your tits. A string of curses escape your mouth as you finally take him all. His hands wrap around you to keep you in place as your back arches. “Can I move inside you now?” he asks, confusion spreading across your face. “I’m supposed to move…” you question. His hands quickly grip at the flesh on your hips. 

“Can’t” thrust “Wait” thrust. 

Choso loses control and continues to thrust into you roughly. Moving his hands to your ass, he lifts you up and down on his cock. Your tits bouncing in his face with every hard thrust. Without a second thought, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Tongue skillfully swirling around it as he sucks it, still pumping into you relentlessly. He's left you speechless, all you could do was moan at the way he was using you. One of his hands from your ass comes up.

Smack

His hand comes down hard on your ass. He does it a few more times, each slapping leaving a slight red mark on your hot flesh. Still pounding you merciless, he attaches his lips to you once again. “M’so close… so close” he mumbles through the kiss. “Can I cum please?” he groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck, you’re getting so tight,” he whines and you could almost swear you see tears if it wasn’t so damn dark. You finally give him a nod as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. A chant of thank you’s fly out his mouth.

“Thank you.. thank.. you,” he whimpers as he fills you up. His warm cum mixing with your wetness, attempting to drip down your thighs. Both of you panting heavily as he pulls out. Choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. “Can.. can i taste you?”

Your jaw drops slightly as his sudden request. “You want to eat me out? After how hard you just fucked me?” you ask as you take notice of his little grin. 

Somehow he managed to lay you down… as comfortably as he could and went to town. Burying his face between your legs. His tongue flick up and down, tasting you. Lapping up both your arousal and his own cum. “So.. greedy cho,” you tease him, watching how pussy drunk he’s  getting. “I love.. love.. love so much,” he hums into your cunt, sending vibrations through it. 

“You talking to my pussy or me?” you laugh softly and you tangle your fingers through his hair. “Both..” he mumbles, refusing at all to come up for air. He continues to fuck you with his tongue. Eating you out as if you were his last meal. He notices as you arch your back, quickly picking up the pace because he knew you were so close. “Cum on my face.. please,” he groans. And you do just that. You cream all over his pretty face. “You taste so good,” he whispers, feeling his hot breath on your pussy. He looks down at his work, admiring how fucked out you look. He helps you sit back up, being as gentle as he could be. “Look, we made my windows all foggy,” he smiles as his finger comes up to draw a heart. “You’re so dumb,” you giggle. 

[msgexymunson]

Life Hack

Description: Maybe Eddie will finally get the message that you do like him when you show him a little bra life hack. 

A/N: what can I say, this was rattling in my head when I showed my partner how to undo a bra one handed and I couldn't help but think of Eddie (because he lives in my brain now and refuses to leave.) If you enjoy it please comment and reblog my sweethearts!

Warnings: NSFW, minor DNI (here there be nipples) fem slightly dom reader, Eddie is an idiot, boob play, dry humping

Masterlist 

1.5k words

You walk into Eddie's room with freshly brushed teeth, wearing a stolen t-shirt of his, the Iron Maiden one with the bleach stains that has become your favourite, and some tiny sleep shorts. Eddie's already sprawled on the bed in a pair of pyjama pants, one arm slung under his head, the other holding half a joint over the full ashtray. 

Fuck, he isn't making this easy. 

His slim toned physique, his tattoos, his happy trail. It's all making your mouth water with anticipation for something that doesn't seem possible. Try as you might to entice him, Eddie's not getting the message. You've been dying for Eddie to take the leap, to move your relationship out of the friendship zone but either he doesn't like you that way or he really is an idiot. 

One minute he's flirting, the next he's punching you on the arm and play fighting with you like you're his kid sister or something. It really makes you wonder how he lost his virginity in the first place.

"You want some of this?" 

"Huh?" You ask just a little too loudly. 

"This," he says, waving the joint at you and smirking.  

"Oh, sure, gimme- oh goddamn!" As you reach out you feel a twang and a pain digging into your side. 

"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks, looking confused. 

"It's nothing Eds, just my bra rebelling" you laugh, wriggling uncomfortably. 

"You can, erm, take it off… you know, if it makes you more comfortable." He's blushing, you swear you see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Maybe he does like you? The thought places your heart firmly in your throat.

Reaching behind you, you expertly flick your bra open and start manoeuvring the shirt sleeves so you can take it off. Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor, eyes bugging out like a cartoon. 

"It's undone? Just like that?" 

You laugh at the face he's pulling, until you have a light bulb moment. 

"Do you want me to teach you?" 

"What?" If Eddie's eyes could get wider, they somehow do, taking over his face like an anime character. 

"I could teach you how to do it, if you want. It's like a life hack, you know? I really don't mind." 

Eddie looks in turmoil for a minute. Maybe you crossed a line. Until you hear his response. 

"Oh, erm… OK?" 

Reaching around to clip your bra back in place, you wriggle everything in position. 

"Give me some of that first" you say, wiggling your fingers at him. He wordlessly passes the joint to you and you take a deep drag, blowing smoke upwards. It helps to calm your nerves a little. Taking another, blowing smoke, and passing it back to him, he takes it to finish it off, stubbing it out in the ashtray. He looks panicked, moving the ashtray off of the bed, clearing the bed of debris, like this was going to be some complicated mission. 

Right, it's now or never. Maybe he'll finally get the fucking hint. 

Taking a deep breath, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. The bra is nothing special really, just a black cotton one, tiny bow situated between your breasts. 

Eddie's mouth opens and closes at the sight, gaping like a moron at your exposed cleavage. Moving over to the bed, you straddle him, backwards. 

"Right, so if you look, it's real easy." You move one hand behind your back, pushing your thumb into the hook part, and flick the bra undone with your index finger. You're not sure if you hear a gasp or if you're just imagining it.

"See? Easy." You clip it back into position and risk a glance over your shoulder. Eddie's face is glowing scarlet. It's the only sign he's giving you, so you're willing to take it as a good one. 

"Wanna try?" 

"Yeah-" his voice starts, impossibly high pitched, until he coughs and continues, much lower, "-Sure thing." 

You feel one hand at your hip, on your exposed skin. The touch you've been craving. It shoots to your core unexpectedly, making you so grateful Eddie can't see your face right now. The other hand starts shakily fumbling with the catch until he gets it. 

"See? Simple. OK," you do it back up, and swivel around, your heat pressed against him. The feel of him underneath you has your head reeling, imagining all sorts of depraved situations, but you reign it in. 

"You wanna try from this way?" 

"Uh huh." He's responding, but his eyes are glued to your chest. 

"Eddie…?" 

Snapping his head up, he almost looks guilty. 

"Yeah, sure." 

"So, sit up a bit, reach around." You beckon him with your fingers so he pulls himself upright, face suddenly so close to yours you feel his breath on your cheek. 

"So… thumb and forefinger, yeah?" 

Eddie's eyes dart to your lips and back up. 

"Yeah." He reaches, pulling you close for a minute, forcing air out of your lungs. Maybe this was a bad idea. It's getting difficult to breathe. Trying to calm yourself, you settle for staring at Eddie's ear. 

He's fumbling, but after a while he gets it. You feel the sudden free feeling. He looks up at you with his eyes all lit up like a dog that just learned a new trick. 

"I did it!" 

"Sure did. You wanna practise again?"

"Yeah sure." 

Once again, you put it back in position. This time, Eddie barely fumbles and flicks it off in one fluid motion. 

"See? Easy! Well done!" Genuinely pleased that you actually taught the boy something, you look him in the eyes for the first time since you decided to make this risky move. 

His usually beautiful amber brown eyes are dark, dipped in desire. He's breathing heavy, large palms coming to rest on your waist. But he's still not making a move. 

Fuck it. 

"You wanna see them?" You ask, praying you're reading him right. 

"...did you just say… what I think you just did?" 

You slowly slip the straps down your arms and peel the bra off, dropping it to the side. Your nipples, happy to be finally free, perk up at the air around them. Goosebumps run over your exposed flesh. 

"Holyfuckingshit!"

It comes out in one breath. Eddie's gawking gaze darts between your naked breasts; awe, shock and panic are fighting for dominance in his eyes. 

"Eddie." 

No response. 

"Eddie!" 

"Huh?" 

You cradle his jaw with one hand and his eyes finally look at you. Unable to wait for a second longer, you press your lips against his. 

It's like a switch is finally flipped in Eddie's brain. He pushes his tongue in your mouth immediately, swiping at yours with such urgency it shocks you. His hand is pushing into the small of your back, guiding you to grind over the hard bulge in his pants. 

The other hand finds your breast, squeezing at it. His thumb runs over your nibble, flicking at the hardened nub, sending tingles through your nerves and up your spine.  

When he breaks from your kiss and starts mouthing at your neck, you tell him finally, words spilling from slick, kiss bitten lips. 

"I was wondering when you'd get the fucking message Eddie." 

You run your fingernails through his hair making him groan into your neck.

"The hell," he breathes, mouth dragging down to your chest, "didn't think you, you liked me like that." 

"You're a fucking idiot Eds, been trying to flirt with you for weeks- oh God!" 

His tongue starts running around your nipple, shocking you out of your reprimand. Moans replace words as he sucks at your nipple, making you rub against him faster. Your clit is begging for more attention and Eddie's happy to oblige, forcing you against him, hard. 

The friction is building up; body buzzing with desire all the way to the tips of your toes. Eddie's desperately tonguing at your nipple, breath whistling through his nose hotly as he's whining in his throat. 

"Eddie, fuck, I'm gonna come!" You're gripping his biceps urgently, rocking against him with all the power you have. Your warning just pushes him further, sucking at your skin and moaning with you. 

Your release flows from you in an intense flash of white light as your fingernails dig into Eddie, holding on for all your worth, chest heaving with heavy pants. 

Eddie groans just as loudly as you as your hips finally stutter to a halt. He looks like he's had a religious experience, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. 

"Eds, did you just cum-" 

"Yup," he says, popping the P loudly, looking almost proud. His grin is reaching almost from ear to ear. This version of Eddie, the idiot, the one you fell for, is in front of you again. 

"So, you do like me then?" 

"Sweetheart, I think you're incredible, I just didn't think you saw me like that." He says, hands rubbing up and down your sides. 

"You're really stupid Eddie." 

"You're probably right" He smiles, eyes glancing back down to your chest. 

"So, do I get to see the rest?" 

No real tag list, just adding some likely people ;)

@lunatictardis @lightvixxen @roanniom @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @wroteclassicaly @loveshotzz

[cannellee]

HII!!! i’m literally in LOVE with your alpha mikey hcs!!! (^ ^) what if mikey has a super sweet and cuddly omega that can’t help but want to cling to him 24/7, she just can’t get enough of him! whenever she sees him she releases her super strong n sweet pheromones and chirps loudly as she runs up to him, her heart is so full of love for her alpha it feels like it’s gonna explode!! every time she sees mikey she just swoons for him🩷

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— his reaction to a cute and extremely in love omega

my masterlist : ☆

(I looved writing this, this was such a cute idea. I hope I quite did what you had in mind!)

mikey would actually be ecstatic to have such a cute omega by his side! he's used to the harshness of his lifestyle and violent confrontations all the time, emma being his only source of warmth. mikey grows so attached to you and he lets you know it by how affectionate he is with you.

seeing you being so desperate for his attention, literally crawling over his laps just to get head pats and his eyes on you only, he feels all weird. it's still mind blowing that you reach for him in every occasion, look for him first in crowds and calls his name so happily like that.

he doesn't think he deserves all that love, you would be better off with a more gentle alpha, who doesn't have tons of enemies waiting for an opportunity to rip his throat off. someone who can give you a stable life and never worry you because of his night meetings he'd rather keep you out of.

still, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. you're such a bundle of joy, your mellow voice and big doe eyes always do something to him. he never refuses any of your requests. you can hold his hands, play with his hair, ask for his food... everything is yours. he might crack a joke or too about how smitten you are, supposedly trying to make you shy, but you only nod excitedly and agree with a big yes. how cute is his omega.

mikey absolutely loves being the center of your life, despite what he tries to tell himself. he's aware your whole world revolves around him and he's thrilled to see your eyes always on him, even when you're in bigger groups. he would never take advantage of your attachment for him, but he does like to see you immediately cut one of your conversations short when he calls your name : watching you whip your head so fast in his direction, flashing him a big smile. he has that strange sense of purpose and pride every time you do, his chest feels so hot, why did you even take an interest in him when you're this precious and desirable? any alpha would kill for an omega like you.

and your scent... mikey doesn't think he has ever smelled something this good in his life. everything about you reminds him of home in the best ways possible. he can't believe he's the one drawing such a sweet scent out of you. it always amplifies in his presence, when he praises you, hugs you or kisses your temple. he can't get enough of it and he feels so lucky your pheromones never subside when you're together.

the adoration is mutual, you can't even imagine a life without mikey either. he's so strong and reliable, how can you not love him ? he teases you in ways only he can make you blush, pervert hands grabbing your ass or dirty promises in the crack of your ears. mikey feels really privileged to be able to touch and hold you in such ways, to be this intimate with you. he does things he would break another's arm's off for even imagining them.

he wants to protect that laugh of yours and wishes you will always look at him with heart eyes. he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable around him, no matter what he does outside.

he's quiet about his fondness for you, but he makes it up by snatching you up by the waist, carrying you in his arms, spending the day cuddling with you, literally breathing nothing but your pheromones. he never complains about your little 'outbursts' of affection towards him. he lets you grab his wrist - where his scent glands are - and rubs it all over yourself to smell just like him. or when you ask for his clothes : you actually don't even have to ask anymore, he'll let them on display in his room for you to take.

he loves you so much, he cherishes the fondness more than anything he has. he would go lengths to protect you and keep you safe, nobody should ever dare lay a hand on you or even wish to hurt you. mikey might not see himself as deserving of his adorable omega, but it doesn't mean he'll just let you slip away for another to win you over. he'll change for the best, he's sure that with your unconditional support he can do anything!

[weneeya]

Hii :D may I request Genshin Sumeru men with an s/o who always has cold limbs? my best friend prohibited me to hug them because of my cold hands *sigh* so I need something to warm up :( anyways, have a great day!!

always cold w/ sumeru boys m.list | rules

note. hiiii thank you for your request! I hope you're doing okay with your cold hands and that it's nothing too worrying <3 hope you'll enjoy this!

Al Haitham

act like he doesn’t really care

does care in fact 

annoyed but deal with it 

He was sitting at his desk, working on some paper as he was the Acting Grand Sage now. He was so busy that he didn’t spend time with you for the last few days. But you knew how to get his attention, and you were sure that it would work. 

You arrived from behind him without making too much noise, and you let your cold hands rest on his neck. It surprised him, he couldn’t say otherwise, as he slightly jumped on his chair at the touch. He quickly looked behind him, frowning a bit as he met your gaze and your proud smile. 

“I’m busy,” he said, “and I’m cold,” you answered him without any hesitation. He knew what you were trying to do, and it simply made him sighed discreetly. He had work to do and he wasn't going to stop right now ; but he wouldn’t brush you away either. So he let you warm up your hands against his skin, as he kept working. 

Kaveh

the definition of softness

he would always try to warm up your hands with his

he’s always worried that you might be cold so he’s really attentive on this 

You were sitting on the couch, rubbing your hands together as you were trying to warm them up. They were so cold, as always, and it almost started to hurt you. When Kaveh came home after some time, he saw you there, slightly shaking. 

He came quickly closer to you, a bit worried because he knew you were frequently cold. He sat right next to you, grabbing your hands between his. He slowly brought them closer to his lips so he could softly blow his warm breath against your skin. 

“Are you okay? Is it working?” he asked you, raising his eyes to meet your gaze. You couldn’t help but to smile slightly at how adorable he was with you. Always so caring about your cold hands: it warmed your heart. 

Cyno

he doesn’t really care about your cold limbs 

except when you’re trying to warm them up with him

Cyno was laying in your shared bed, sleeping peacefully ; or at least trying to sleep. You were right next to him, bundled up in the blanket. You were so cold right now, almost shivering, and you couldn’t understand how your boyfriend was sleeping without any problem. 

You looked at him, when an idea crossed your mind. A smirk appeared on your lips before you brought your feet closer to him. You put them right against his back, making him jump slightly in surprise. 

“What the-” he turned his head, trying to look at you as you started to giggled softly. It was even funnier than you expected, and your feet were feeling warmer. Cyno was a real radiator. He sighed a bit, before turning completely around to face you. He opened his arms and you almost rushed against him, hiding your face in his neck. You were feeling way better now. 

Tighnari

always taking care of your health

so your cold limbs are always a concern for him 

“You should wear warmer clothes,” he said, frowning as he saw you going out in such light clothes. You looked at him in disbelief, you didn’t expect such a reaction from him. Your boyfriend was always concerned by your health, worrying too much about your whole problem with the cold. 

“I’m fine Nari, it’s just my hands,” you told him as you showed him your hands, a little smile on your lips. He came closer to you, grabbing your hands between his to examine them. He looked back into your gaze, before shaking his head slowly. 

“Here, wear this,” he holded gloves out to you, waiting for you to take and wear them. You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight back. With Tighnari, it was completely useless. He would never let you go out without being sure that you would be warm. 

It was his way of taking care of you as he could. Health was his domain, so protect your health was the least he could do.

I love sumeru boys sm they're my favorite pls hoyoverse bring them back

[pomefioredove]

new fav twst fic author just dropped lmao I love you sm 😂 💕

btw can I ask for an angsty fic abt reader being scared of falling in love w someone? yk like instead of butterflies in their stomach, it feels bad, demeaning and gross? like, in the end they don't realize they're in love bc of how afraid it makes the reader, but ends up sucking it up bc of a valuable friendship? yk, like love it-hate it?

but pick whichever character u want, feel like this would work out w a few of them 👀

thank you!! and OHHH I love this genre of angst... I'm very like this as a person. my immediate reaction was vil but I've done a similar prompt with him in the past so I'm branching out

summary: all is fair in love and war type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: ambiguously romantic, angsty, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu but kinda is?

Love and hate are emotions too close for comfort.

It's times likes these that remind you of why Aphrodite and Ares were always tangled in affair, why the hands of love and war fit so nicely together.

Red is the color of both romance and blood.

The heart doesn't distinguish between the heat of passion and the heat of battle, and there's really nothing quite pleasant about that feeling: it's sticky, uncomfortable, warm and wet, making a home in every divot of your skin. It dries on you like blood.

Sometimes, you wonder if being stabbed would be easier.

After all, physical pain, perhaps, is preferable to the dizzying sensation of a beating heart, so noticeable that you can almost taste it from the back of your throat.

...This unwelcome, intrusive feeling, a thief in the night, a sudden loud noise, something that no amount of deep breathing and waiting can seem to quell.

It's not so much longing as it is torture.

You resent yourself for feeling this way. For the way your stomach turns, as if sick, every time you see him.

For the way you can't seem to stop thinking about it, about him, about every little thing he does, about every little question he leaves you with. It's a form of obsession, though one you struggle to resist.

Some days you fantasize about interrogating him until he explains all that he is, so that you might understand why it's him, of all people, him.

But that would never work.

Lilia Vanrouge enjoys keeping the fine print to himself, always leaving you guessing, always leaving you hungry for more. He does it on purpose, he knows, but he enjoys playing this game of cat and mouse far too much to ever finish the kill.

...At first, you did see it as a sort of game. Now, it feels more like a trap, and one that you so eagerly and stupidly walked into.

And yet, still, you can't find it within yourself to resent him. You can't find a way to accuse him of sorcery, of bewitching you, because you know, deep down, that this is your own doing.

You were the one who set the trap. Who started the war.

It was you, you, who blindly ran into battle, armed with nothing but your wits and the pit in your stomach. You were destined to lose from the beginning.

This... feeling. The one that makes your stomach turn, that makes you dizzy, that poisons your mind and senses and turns you stupid and hungry and obsessive, it's your own doing.

And you could just as likely kill it off, swing your blade of reason down on its sickly, thin neck and just be over with it.

But you won't.

And that's the other half of the battle.

For as much as it haunts you, as it tortures you, as it makes you toss and turn at night fantasizing about answers and wars and traps, you want to lose. You want to play this game with him.

Now, it's simply a question of who will strike the final blow.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 23 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You think that maybe you’ve gotten off easy for the night, when the two of you practically doze together in the warm tub, the hot water up to your necks. You are endlessly relieved, when you feel him relax behind you, possibly even asleep. You daren’t look, not wanting to disturb him, afraid of what he might dream up next if you rub him just the wrong way.

You can still hardly believe that your relationship has come to this.

The water has started to cool by the time he stirs, kissing behind your ear with a tenderness that fills your heart with a stupid hope, his arm like a band of iron around your waist. “Will you wash me?” There is a softness, damn near vulnerability in this request, and you nod, knowing you cannot refuse.

It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself too.

You lather up with artisan soap that smells like sandalwood, sliding your hands over the contours of his skin. He tilts his head back, seemingly content, and you hope he will remain like this, passive as a sleeping leopard. Maybe he’ll be ready to snooze after this, and you’ll survive the night.

You try to avoid the area between his legs, but when his lips curl in a wicked little smile your heart skips a beat. “That’s especially dirty,” he tells you through a smirk, as though amused that you thought you might get away scot free.

He should count himself lucky, that you are gentle as you run your soapy hand over the bulge of his heavy sac. Then you are alarmed—and impressed—to find him rock hard again.

So much for your old man jokes.

“Jesus, what are you, fourteen?” you snipe, hoping to cover the state of your own frustrated arousal. Running your hands up and down his thick shaft does not help you at all.

He actually chuckles at that. ���You do make me feel young again…not that young, luckily.”

You find yourself exploring him a few more strokes that what is necessary, just for you, because you like the feeling of him in your hand. He grumbles with approval, his eyes half closed. Then because it only seems fair you stop suddenly. “See how you like it.”

You try to slip away, but quick as lightning he grabs you up, water sloshing over the side of the tub. A playful scream escapes you, and his smile is like a baring of teeth. There is a dangerous glitter in his dark eyes that takes your breath away, even as you know you’re doomed.

You shouldn’t play with this man. There must be something missing in your brain, that makes you keep pulling his tail.

“My turn,” he says, perching you on his knees, reaching for the soap.

At first, he really does just wash you, running those strong hands over your body, and it’s all you can do not to melt. But then his focus keeps returning to your breasts, your soft globes floating at the waterline.

Men.

“I think they’re clean…”

“Not for long.” He rolls your nipples between his fingers and you whimper, that ache between your legs that never really went away returning with a vengeance. Somehow, you know begging him to stop will only make it worse.  

“You should sit up here,” you tell him, tapping on the edge of the tub, and just for a moment you think you may have succeeded in fogging his brain just enough to make him forget he always has to be the boss. He looks at you with intrigue—and suspicion.

“Why?”

“Because I want you in my mouth.”

It’s a little funny, as you watch him war with himself, trying to weigh what exactly you’re up to against his desire to put his cock between your lips. You already know it was on his mind earlier. The remnants of that spicy surprise in your mouth from earlier have faded. In the end, the promise of a blow job wins.

It always does.

Almost warily he lifts himself out of the tub, perching on the edge so you can reach him. His big hand fists in your damp hair at the back of your neck. “No teeth,” he warns you.

You make a pouty lip, watching as his gaze turns to your mouth with laser-focus. “Not even a little?” you tease. “Just lightly, on this big beautiful vein?” You trace it with your thumb, your hand dwarfed by the size of his erection in your little fist.

“Fuck. Woman…”

You take that as a yes, and swirl your tongue over his swollen head, before taking him as deep as you can. You actually enjoy giving head, when it’s an act of love, and not a chore in exchange for a boy’s affection, the way it was in your teens. This is…somewhere in between, truth be told, but you give it your all. You can tell by the way John grips your hair, guiding your rhythm upon him, that you haven’t lost your touch. Your jaw starts to ache, and you are relieved when he gives a strangled moan, pulling you off by your hair. He takes himself in hand, pumping himself two or three times before cumming all over your breasts, thick white ropes that paint your chest with hot seed.

Maybe you don’t get it, but the sight of you marked like this makes his eyes burn like low banked coals.  

He actually lets you slip from his grasp, floating away to rinse the evidence of his enjoyment from your skin. He continues to watch you, as you get out of the tub, and dry off with one of the plushy soft towels.

He only catches up when you try to go to the closet for pajamas, sweeping you up into his arms and depositing you in the bed. You can’t help but feel like you won the round, when he tangles you up in his long bare limbs, and promptly falls asleep behind you.

[turtlecleric]

I Know Now

late as usual ~ nsfw, rise!donnie x reader (cw: altered state of mind)

---

“Dearest?”

“Yes, Donnie.”

"Tell me again."

You blow out a slow breath, closing your eyes and pushing down the hint of exasperation that's starting to bloom in your chest. He's worried, you remind yourself. Unsure. Hesitant in a way that you simply aren't. You can be patient, for him. 

"It will be disorienting and confusing," you say once more. "I may feel overwhelmed or scared. I may not be able to control my thoughts or actions. I may hate it."

Donnie searches your face, brows furrowed. "And you still want t-"

"Yes."

The movement of his free hand tapping rapidly against his thigh catches your eye. It makes you soften further, seeing how worried he is about this. About you. You step forward to wrap your arms around him, and his own slide around you immediately, making the bottle of pills in his hand rattle as he does. His cheek rests on the top of your head, and you bask in the comfort of his hold for a long moment before leaning back to catch his gaze. Somber, anxious eyes look back at you. 

"I trust you,” you murmur. “I understand the risks. And I still really want to do this. Okay?"

His mouth opens, but he closes it without saying anything. When he opens it again, it's with a firmer, more resolute expression.

"Okay," he says, nodding and pulling away fully from your hug. "Let's get you set up then."

He leads you to the bed nestled in the back corner of the workshop - one that he put together specifically for this. Sturdy, with a mattress that has just the right amount of give, an absurd number of pillows, and the softest blankets and sheets you've ever had the pleasure of running your hands over. The memory of when he'd first shown you the finished product makes you smile. 

It's perfect, Donnie!

Of course it is! I made it to your exact preferences based on the data I've collected over the past few weeks, and - oh, let me show you how the heating function works!

God. You love him so fucking much. 

Settled amongst the pillows now, with him kneeling on the bed beside you, your heart sings thinking about how much work he's put into this. The pills, obviously. The bed. The lectures and pamphlets and reminders that you don't have to do this - despite the fact that you were the one who requested it in the first place. Wanting to experience a taste of what it's like for him, so you can understand better but… also because you're a little selfish. He's told you countless times how much better his season is now that he has you. Alone, it had been miserable. With you… it's something incredible. And he always seems so content during his season - relaxed and satisfied and so goddamn happy. Giddy with it, even. You want to see what that feels like. 

"The effects should last approximately one hour," Donnie says, pulling you from your thoughts. The bottle rattles again when he gingerly shakes a single pill into his hand. "Don't forget that your heart rate will increase, and you'll start to feel really warm. That's normal. Oh, and don’t forget that-”

"Donnie," you call softly, cutting him off. You take the pill from him with one hand and use the other to weave your fingers around his and squeeze. "As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine."

His eyes soften, and the tiny smile on his face bolsters you. Before he has a chance to make you repeat the warnings (again), you reach over to one of the cup holders jutting out from the side of the bed and pick up a water bottle. 

(It's important to stay hydrated, dearest. Ooh! Watch this, there's a hidden cupboard for snacks that raises up when you press-)

The pill goes down easily, and Donnie immediately starts to ramble again. Reminding you of what to expect, of the contingency plans in place should you decide this really isn't for you and you need to stop. You half-listen, smirking when he falters for just a moment as you start to strip. 

You'd thought you might get a bit chilly since he keeps it relatively cold in here, but you're feeling okay even without your clothes. You get comfortable on the bed, lying down and… about to ask how long it will take for… hm.

Hm.

He's still talking, but you're a little distracted by the way his throat moves as he speaks. The way his tendons stretch and pull when he shifts, when he turns his head, or... the glimpses of his tongue, his teeth, as he talks. 

Wait. Focus. 

"-feeling?"

You blink up at him. "...Huh?" 

He looks like he can't decide between worry or amusement. It's not an unusual expression to see on his face - you evoke that in him pretty often - but something about it mesmerizes you. 

"How are you feeling?" He says again.

Feeling. How are you. Feeling. 

It's hard to focus when you're staring at him. Looking away feels impossible, but you manage to close your eyes and think. 

You feel... warm. That's right. He said that would happen. You feel… hazy. Like your thoughts have to drag themselves through molasses to make it to the surface. Hungry? No, hungry isn't quite right, but it's... similar. Like a craving. You want. You want. You feel your pulse in your throat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. You miss him. He’s right here, but you miss him. 

When you open your eyes and see him there, you feel yourself relax. His gaze is intense. Heavy. It makes you shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs, and you try to focus. Focus. Try to… 

Why aren’t you touching him? It seems stupid to not be touching him. More than stupid, it feels wrong. You reach out, resting a hand against his plastron, feeling the vibrations there as he speaks.

Wait, what is he saying? You see the movement of his mouth, and you hear the words, but… the meanings slip away like smoke in your hands. Your name is the only thing you recognize, and oh, the way he says your name has you shivering again. Shivering - but you're so warm. The thought makes you smile, but it falls when you suddenly become aware of every inch that separates you from him. You place your other hand on his arm, curling around his bicep, pulling him closer, because he’s so far away. Even when he moves where you pull him, letting you wrap around him and press your face into the crook of his neck, he’s still too far away. 

He says your name again. Quiet and gentle, and you love the sound of it. It echoes in your mind, a layered whisper that soothes something you can’t put a name to. You breathe him in, nuzzling into his neck as the both of you lie down together. Arms around each other, your legs entwined, he’s right here but you need him closer. You need… something. You need…

Hands massage your back. Your shoulders. Someone is moaning and you think it might be you. You want to say something, but you can’t, can’t, can’t - there’s an ache in your chest, a burning in your stomach. Your thighs are sticky. You need- you can feel your cunt throbbing.

A brief moment of clarity. Suddenly you can understand his steady murmuring, can fully remember what's happening and how you got here. 

“-okay, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, okay? You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

You need him. You need him, you need him right now, and you have to tell him. You don’t even care, don’t have the capacity to even be embarrassed by how whiny your voice is when you finally manage to speak. “Donnie. Donnie, please. Please, I need you. Please fuck me, please, Donnie, please, I need-” 

The moment he kisses you, all of your thoughts slip away. There is only him and you and him and you and him but then he pulls away, and it hurts. You miss him. You try to tell him, ask him to come back, but someone is whimpering, and you miss him, and it hurts, and you can’t think. 

You miss him. 

His hands find you again, his lips pressing against your own, and the relief is overwhelming. Your entire body shudders, shaking apart beneath him. You can't differentiate between the touches, his hands and mouth here and there and everywhere, everywhere, everywhere at once. Someone whines again. 

Donnie lies on top of you then, arms pressed between you and the mattress, holding you close against him, and oh. The weight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him - it’s enough to make you go boneless. Something, something - his knee, you think - slides between your legs, pressing against you. You can't help but grind against it as his tongue just barely glides against yours. It’s so warm. Everywhere, everything, warm and good and safe.

You’re trembling, chills running up your spine, lighting sparking along your skin. You’re flying, you think. Weightless, somehow, with only friction and pressure and Donnie Donnie Donnie. He adjusts, his knee moving away, but before you can protest something slips inside of you. His finger, you realize after a few pumps, and it's better, so much better, but it's not enough and you need more more more-

Donnie is whispering something that you don’t understand, but his voice alone is like a balm. Soothing your impatience. Your desperation. You focus on the rumble of it, then on the rub of his jaw against yours, then on the slick circles of his thumb against your clit, then his fingers - two, now - pumping easily in and out of you. Your hips are in constant motion, your arms clawing at his arms, and you can't stop seeking him in every way that you can. Time warps - there is no time, only feeling as you fight to somehow have him closer. 

He lifts himself up, and you miss having his weight press you into the mattress, but then you feel him start to press something bigger inside of you, and fuck yes this is it. His cock - this is what you were craving, what you need more than oxygen itself, and it feels so fucking good. The feeling of him inside you, filling you up, full, so full of him. And then he starts to move and - no, this is what you need. This delicious, wet friction, the feeling of him spearing you open again and again as you pull apart at the seams. There is only him and here and now, and it’s all you've ever wanted and it's yours. 

Are you coming? You can't tell if you are or if it just feels that good to have him pumping into you. You can't seem to think past each thrust, your mind going blank after every... Fuck, are you coming? Or does it just feel that good-

One of his words slips through the mist that's replaced your mind. Mine. It makes your skin spark. You've never felt more safe, more content, more full. It's almost too much. Just the brush of his scales against your skin is enough to overwhelm you, and fuck, fuck, are you coming or does he just feel that good inside of you?

You want to tell him… something. Something. You don't know, couldn't put it into words even if you could manage to control your mouth enough to speak. You might already be speaking. You’re not sure. His voice, though, you are sure about. It's a constant echo in your mind, and you can’t understand the words but at the same time you do. You understand. Safe, pretty, good, mate, mine. Yes, yes, yes. You’re his. Forever. 

Your heart is beating so fast. Your entire body is one big heartbeat, pulsing with every movement he makes. It’s almost scary - would be scary if you didn’t feel so fucking good and so completely, utterly safe. You're an imploding star, a burning, writhing, blissed-out thing that used to be a person and that may not ever be one again. You think you might be okay with that. 

God, are you coming or does it-

That thought is abruptly disintegrated when you do come. Your eyes roll back into your head, waves and waves of shimmering pleasure lighting up every nerve. On and on and on, it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop, and you’re sure now. This is you coming, and it isn’t fucking stopping. Someone is crying, and this shouldn’t actually be possible. It shouldn't be possible for a person to feel this way, and it isn’t fucking stopping, holy fuck. The wave swells in a way it never has before, cresting and cresting and cresting, and- oh. You’re crying. That's you. 

breathe, darling. got you, beautiful, mine, doing so good. breathe. that’s it, pretty girl

He’s comforting you, you think. What is there to comfort? There has never been anything that feels as good as this. You’re still coming and he’s still fucking you through it, and thank god, because if he stopped you might actually die. You reach for him, but he's already there. 

mine, mine, mine

You think you might be starting to come down from that insane high. The trembling seems permanent, but you can think a little, can take in more of what he's saying now even though it's a little slurred in your ears. 

“- got you. All mine, so pretty and perfect. Smell so fucking good, taking my cock like you were made for me, like the perfect mate. So good, pretty girl, you're doing so good. I love you so-”

He's happy with you. You're being good. You're good. You're good and safe and warm, and he's here, and this is where he belongs, always. Deep inside of you, fucking you, always, always, with his fingers in your mouth and his teeth in your shoulder. You can't separate pain from pleasure. It's all one swirling, overwhelming cacophony of sensation until you feel him release inside of you, coating your insides with his come, marking you as his in every way - and it does something to your brain. You think you really are talking now, thanking him, maybe, or just- fuck, you can't concentrate, you're so full. 

Part of you mourns, even through the thick haze of your mind, knowing that he will pull out of you soon. But you're surprised to find that he doesn't, that he only needs a few moments before he's hard and pumping into you again. More sweet, incomprehensible words fall on your ears like so many shooting stars, and time continues to warp, and oh, fuck, the wave is cresting again-

---

--

-

When you wake, the first thing you become aware of is the fact that you feel so unbelievably relaxed. The second thing is that Donnie is holding you, stroking your hair and speaking to you softly. 

You take a slow, deep breath, and his words stop, then start again. This time you push through the haze enough to actually listen. 

“You haven't stopped smiling,” he says, his own smile audible in his voice. 

His hand continues to brush through your hair, while the fingers of his other hand tap absent-mindedly against your thigh. It's nice. You bask in the feeling for a moment before you respond. 

“It was like… like you said. The way you feel now, during your season. I just felt really… connected to you. Safe. And happy.” You sigh, snuggling in closer. “And really, really good. I don't know why you were so worried I would hate it.”

His hands stop. Then start again. When he answers, you can't hear the smile anymore. “It's only like that when- when you're with the person you…” 

He trails off, and you wait for him to elaborate. He doesn't. The silence grows heavy. You pull back to look up at him, but he avoids your eyes, his lips thinning and his brows pinching together. You finish his sentence for him. 

“The person you love?”

His throat bobs when he swallows, and his tiny nod makes your chest ache. To think that - even after everything you've been through - he was still unsure. Worried that the pill would not only make you miserable, but also that it would confirm your true feelings. 

Or lack thereof. 

“Donnie,” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss. Slow, gentle, and intimate. He kisses you until you forget how to breathe, and when he finally pulls away you have to take a few moments to remind yourself of what you were going to say. “You thought I wouldn't-”

“I was wrong to worry,” he says simply, cutting you off once more. “I know that now.”

You consider pushing further, but the pleasant fog that still clings to your mind makes it hard to think. You close your eyes and breathe, trying to focus past the memory of his lips on yours. It’s hard when his hands still trail through your hair. When you open them again, he’s still avoiding your gaze. 

“You know I love you. Right?”

His eyes finally meet your own, and you see something there. Something that’s too big to put a name to but that relaxes your concern nonetheless. He leans toward you to press a quick kiss to your forehead, and when he pulls back his lips have settled back into a soft smile. 

“I know, dearest. I know.” 

---

tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @luckycharms1701 @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @justalotoffanfiction

[littleplantfreak]

A Candle’s Memory

Pairing: Umemiya x Reader

Cw: Fluff and slight hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1782

I did this as an exercise that turned into me writing for longer than I was supposed to because I felt sad about leaving it unfinished. The Prompts were candle wick or an old flame rekindled (I did both) and the theme was : Preservation in preparation for the coming winter, we try to hold onto the last bit of warmth. Write about letting go, or not wanting to.

Oh! Thank you @birinboom, min skat and my lovely beta reader. I wouldn’t have posted it without you 😘

Thunk

Snow hitting your window snaps your mind out of the book you were reading and breaks the immersion completely, causing more anger than fear. You know the face that pops up outside the window immediately as you give him a bored look. For a 12 year old, Umemiya's more dependable than most adults, dragging himself out of bed at 6:00AM to shovel the older neighbors' sidewalks. His cheeks and nose are stained red, and his sniffling causes the window to fog up.

When you crack the window halfway, the warmth is sucked out of your room, the wind blowing the candle you were using as a reading light out. Dog earring the page of your book, you reach out as your hands cover his cheeks, hoping to bring him some form of warmth. You really have to pity his poor skin with the way he gives it no more care than to wrap a scarf around his neck and sometimes bury his face deep in it to keep away frostbite.

"Whatcha readin' this time?" He asks, feeling the blood return to his face now that there's warm skin over his own frigid cheeks. The candle blown out stares him down while the wax cools as if faulting him for its death.

"Treasure Island. You should read it after I'm done." Because he should. You know his taste, and this is something he can get behind. Pirates and adventure for a boy who's got an equally adventurous dream roiling in his bones. He never asks what it's about, and you never tell him, both content at the surprise.

"I'll pick it up on my way to school," Is all he says to that before taking the matches off the side of the table and relighting your candle. He hops down a little ways, setting out to do at least two more sidewalks before he has to go back home and get dressed.

This routine continues until it stops snowing. Or at least you would think it would. He doesn't have any real reason to come back once it's warm enough, you'd think, but when he shows up on a morning without snow, you're a bit confused.

"I saw the candle going again and decided to stop by." He says immediately. It's still cold, but his face is much less irritated by it without precipitation.

"Are you...on a walk?"

"Something like that!" He says leaning into the window, giving no concern over how close he gets to you or the burning candle he almost knocks over. It'd be silly to say you didn't have a crush on him, especially with his constant morning attention and how his smile seemed to light up your room more than your candle ever could.

His eyes go to the book you're reading once again. This time the cover reads Hamlet. When he meets your eyes again, you let out a breath you'd been holding.

"This one is a tragedy, so you might not like it as much." It's more than you've ever said about one of the books before.

"Do you like it?" He asks, gray eyes dancing between looking at your bedhead and the pretty eyes that caught his attention the first time he saw you through the window.

"I do."

"I'll give it a try." He shows a softer smile, less thousand-watt and more warm sunny day. You're not sure if he can tell just how breathless it makes you when he does that. Surely he has to know. The thought of him smiling like that makes your heart twist in an unpleasant way, but you'll be damned if you ever let that monster win against showing him nothing but the smile you return to him.

The one morning you wish he'd come, he doesn't. The dread you feel lays heavy like a rock in your throat as the moving van comes that afternoon, dragging you away from your window. Before you leave, you look from the outside where he'd stand, seeing from his point of view what it looked like sans burning candle. Surely it must look more comforting with the flame and its golden halo.

When you think about him coming back to the dark empty frame, no longer allowed access, the tears you thought would be so easy to hold back fall painfully. The bookmark you lay out on the windowsill that your parents bought you as a birthday present sits limp and dead, and you wonder if it'll blow away before he finds it.

It does not blow away before he finds it, luckily. The unlucky thing is that you're gone. He's been kept away by a fever he didn't think would get worse after the first day. Try as he might've to meet you, the room spun, and he quickly and often became accustomed to the toilet those three days he was bedridden. The bookmark had small pressed petals and a pink tassel to match them. He holds it tight, looking at the window and feeling like it was a closed door.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

When you move back to your hometown, you're well out of high school. The town has changed for the better as you walk through, seeing the community flourish with potted plants in front of stores no longer kicked and smashed, and kids walking together, no nervous glances to the alleyways anymore. You've got an inkling as to who's responsible for the change, but you brush aside thoughts of him even now, the nostalgia keeping you from reading any books you'd shared back then. You'd learned fast back then that rereading them only caused stormy waves to wash over you, soaking you in a delicate sadness.

There are plenty of books in the world. A few are off limits. If you saw him, though, would it allow you to read them again, the way you so desperately wish to? Sometimes you wonder if it's the books you miss or the interest Umemiya gave to both you and the pages.

You buy your old house from your parents, who never got around to selling it. It's run down and dusty, and the rooms are the same as ever. You can't bring yourself to take any room but your own from back then, setting it up differently except for the desk against the window.

The old scentless candle is now replaced with a sweet lemon one that you allow to burn while the window stays open well into the later evening. The lack of scent back then was only due to your parents who weren't pleased with your staying up past bedtime, hours into the next morning, and then sleeping when you got home from school until you started the cycle once more.

The house feels better now that you've got it clean, at least. There are carpets to rip out, and leaks to check. The backyard is overgrown, and the light in the shed refuses to work, but this is home. It feels more like home than the house you'd moved to all those years ago.

The next day, you walk back to your house from the library with a stack of three books nestled close to your chest. You can't help your eyes flickering to the large figure making his way to the door you've just come out of, and when you hold it for him, you're more sure than ever.

"Umemiya Hajime, is that you?" you ask, voice a little more enthused than you'd wanted it to be. He looks once, then to the door before he double takes. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, with the cutest pout you didn't know a grown man could make. Your name falls from his mouth like a question. "The one and only," you say, and your smile turns fond, remembering just how much tinier he used to be. You were always taller than him, at least from your seat at the desk, but now he towers above you.

"It's really you," he breathes for a moment, looking at the differences and picking them out easily. He feels like it was just yesterday that he leaned too close to your candle, singeing the end of his scarf by accident. He remembers the look of panic when you realized he was on fire and started smacking at him with your book. You'd ended up having to buy that one from the library due to the soot and small scorches to the cover from your rescue. He still has it on a shelf in his room, insisting he'd pay you back, but you said it'd be a late Christmas present despite it being closer to Valentine's day than anything. When he brought it up back then, you'd waved it off, stuttering something about how it was more about intention than actual calendar dates.

"Are you visiting?" He asks, not having heard that you were around from anyone, but you always were a bit more introverted.

"I bought my old house and moved back actually. There was a job with a 20-minute commute from here, so I figured it'd be great to be somewhere familiar. I didn't know Makochi changed this much." He sees the crinkle of your eyes and the smile you throw to him when you say the last sentence, knowing you've always been fully aware of his dreams. Seeing that was worth more than any praise. The look was praise itself, maybe, given how it filled his chest with a warmth that had him laying a hand there as his fingers played with the neck of his shirt as he tried hard not to fist the fabric.

"If I'd known, I would've stopped by sooner."

"You know now, so stop by whenever you want," you laugh, because years ago, he would never have been shy about it. The book you see he's holding has something pink attached. A memory surfaces, spanning over years of living in a separate, different place, only to settle right where a story ended. At least you thought it had ended, but maybe you'll have to crack it open again just to be sure.

"This time, you can come in through the door."  You walk off with a wave, thinking about lighting that lemon scented candle again when you get home. You let it burn long enough last time for the memory to shape the wax into a nice, even pool, which will help the wick burn slow and steady once you relight it.

[ddarker-dreams]

Scarlet ribbons but she is the one telling the boys how she thinks they are super pretty/handsome/etc.

(Ps love your writing sm, it cheered me up alot after i had a rough day yesterday uwu)

WAHH WHAT AN ADORABLE IDEA.... it's what they deserve tbh... my favs from part 5 are like the only people who get to be happy on this blog hrjktmger and i'm so glad that my writing helped cheer you up, i hope that the past few days have been treating you better!!

Reader is referred to as girlfriend here!

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

He gets the cutest blush that he tries to hide by covering his face with his hand and clearing his throat. Passione's Don, who remains unwavering in the face of death, can't handle his beloved heaping praises upon him. No matter how suave he may act, your relationship is his first foray into romance. There's a slight shakiness to his voice when he returns your compliment. It doesn't help that there's this glint in your eye that tells him you'll be using this newfound knowledge to your advantage. He supposes it's only fair, considering his penchant for teasing you whenever possible, but maybe he'll go easy on you after learning how it feels. That isn't to say he dislikes your kind words — more so that the temporary loss in his composure is a strange sensation. Strange, yet not unwelcome.

Bruno

Your serious Capo melts on the spot at such ardent praise — he can feel Cupid's arrow piercing him in real time. He takes a moment to recollect himself, before wondering aloud what brought this on. When you point out that he compliments you all the time without any real reason, he puts his hands up in defense, conceding to your argument. If you're in public, he'll limit his response to a warm thank you. Should you be away from prying eyes, however, he'll pull you into an embrace. It serves a dual purpose. You won't be able to see the pink dusting his cheeks and he gets to wrap you up in his arms. You really are the light of his life, he'll tell you. As unconventional as the lifestyle you both lead is, it's moments like this where he delights in a shred of normalcy.

Fugo

His overactive brain temporarily short circuits. Fugo is the type to blush up to his ears, no matter how vehemently he denies it. This poor guy considers you infinitely out of his league and immediately assumes you broke the espresso machine or something and want to soften the blow by using flattery. He sputters for a few moments before his tongue recalls how to properly form coherent words. He'll downright ask what angle you're trying to use here. He isn't used to receiving compliments without the other person having an end goal in mind. Once it's clear you just felt like letting him know, he takes deep breaths to calm his heart, which he can hear thumping loudly. Fugo then starts saying that objectively speaking, you are far more aesthetically pleasing, and starts lifting off some mathematical terms that fly over your head.

Mista

Mista points at himself and says "Me?" just to make sure he heard you right. This is a big moment for him. It isn't that he doubts your physical attraction to him, but hearing it confirmed out loud in your sweet voice is a real treat. He'll sling an arm around your shoulder and drops the line, "You're not so bad yourself", because he thinks it sounds cool. Mista wants to maintain his laidback air, but when you say stuff like that, his stomach does soumersalts and his hands start sweating. He has this big goofy grin and confident gait the remainder of the day. The one trade off (in his opinion) is that the Pistols start swarming about, insisting that you pay them equal praise. Chaos ensues until you appease their neediness for your validation. It is his soul made manifest, after all.

Narancia

Narancia does a little fist pump and starts cheering internally. Although, if you called him pretty, he might pause and get petulant. He totally exudes machismo, he'll insist. He'll warm up to the compliment eventually, though, but he won't admit it. Regardless, he's hype about it. His energy skyrockets the rest of the day. He's all over you, peppering your face with kisses, picking you up and twirling you around, he's on cloud nine. He considers it his personal mission to shower you in praise and this only reaffirms the creed. He'll go up to random people in public, point at you, and say stuff like, "Isn't she so cute? That's my girlfriend, yeah, that pretty lady over there. Do you see her? Just look at her, she's amazing, the coolest ever, did you know she—" and on and on he'll go.

Abbacchio

Similar to Fugo, he initially assumes that you're trying to butter him up. He'll wryly ask what you intend to cajole him into doing. When you huff and insist that this is a no strings attached compliment, he'll study you, since he knows the many tells that signify you're lying. Upon realizing you're being genuine, he'll grumble a few words of gratitude and leave it at that. Don't let his composure fool you — his heart is pounding away like he's a hormonal teenager again. He will lie awake that night, your words repeating on a loop without his Stand's assistance, floating in this warm and fuzzy sensation. Abbacchio might not be the best with his words, but he swears an oath to compliment you properly the next time he sees you.

[yuri-is-online]

Host With the Most (Vil Schoenheit x Yuu)

Intro

notes: they/them used for Yuu, in this house we love Vil Schoenheit and his pursuit of aesthetic beauty, Vil is very touchy with Yuu because he likes them, Yuu is a wee bit oblivious. Also happy New Year! Ha this took me too long to write. If you wish to see more of me, consider looking at my masterlist.

"As the default 'owner' of the Mansion it makes the most sense for Yuu to help me." Vil's voice has that firm air of finality to it that thunders through the air with the same force as Leona's roar or Malleus's storms. Speaking of Leona, he seems to be frightfully amused by this cute little attempt at imitation, and you have absolutely no desire to see them cat fight.

"Just what help do you need exactly? I'm not really the best choice for an understudy." You try your best to keep any trace of tiredness out of your voice, but you really should know better than to lie to Vil by now. He ignores his argument and cups your face in his hands to get a better look at your skin, pursing his lips ever so slightly to try and avoid a full frown.

"You really need to have more faith in yourself." The scolding is serious but the genuine affection in his gaze as you involuntarily chase his touch as he takes back his hands is real. "And to get more sleep. With enough practice you could be more than worthy, but lucky for us both that's not what I had in mind."

"Awww beta fish already claimed little shrimpy? Laaame." Floyd blows a raspberry and you stick out your tongue when Vil looks away.

"No chasing shromps for you." That cheers him up. You think.

"Stay!" Crewel seems to have regained a bit of his fire. "Ramshackle is Yuu's home, so having them work alongside Schoenheit will allow them to keep an eye on all you puppies and make sure you aren't destroying their living space."

"You have no need to worry yourself over such a thing Professor." Rook cheerfully says.

"Yeah! We're good house guests." Laughs Ortho.

"... Schoenheit perhaps you would like to take Yuu to look over costumes and explain your plans while I have some words with my third and fourteenth reasons?" Vil does not need Crewel to tell him twice.

~~~~

"We aren't planning on using any rooms you or Grim do regularly, though Rook and Floyd did have ideas for the attic." Vil immediately starts talking shop as soon as you leave the classroom. "Guests are going to walk though the house on a marked tour, and I'll be playing host for part of the show."

"A ghost host?" You expect to be reprimanded but Vil winks.

"In my first script the host had an assistant, but Ortho suggested he be placed in charge of screen mapping and projection so we didn't need to make as many adjustments to your dorm." Vil sounds just as proud of Ortho as Idia would be if he was telling the story. It fills your heart with warmth. "Thanks to that suggestion I get to have you stick with me for the rest of the week." And just like that the warmth floods up to your ears, damn that professional training for letting Vil say... things. Yes just things, you are reading into friendly banter too much. The way your breath hitches at the gentle ghost of his touch across your back as he guides you through the door he opens is natural, you just aren't used to Vil's touchiness yet.

"Have you already thought out the costumes?" You remove yourself from his side and try to place some distance between yourself and your feelings by looking over the fist set of clothes Crewel has laid out in this empty classroom, completely missing the brief flicker of disappointment Vil refuses to contain.

"I provided Professor Crewel some concept sketches and my script, but we still have some sizing adjustments to make..." Vil's voice trails off and you turn back in concern. Yet he does not seem distracted at all when you do, he simply proceeds with his thoughts evenly. "I hope you don't mind, but the costume I have in mind for you is raven themed, so you might end up looking a bit like our dear Headmage."

"Oh please no." You groan and Vil laughs.

"Just the bit." He moves to your side, directing your attention towards an admittedly sleek tunic like outfit with a hood and feathers embroidered down the cape. "Go ahead and try it on, I'll wait out here to look it over." As you turn to do just that you find his face close to yours, the typical intensity of his stares and danger of this specific smile suggesting something other than his usual ire. "And make sure to tell me if it's comfortable," he gently tips your chin up to look at him with a slender finger, it's as if he means to kiss you with how he tilts his head "you will be standing next to me for the whole night, I can't have my partner falling down from something as simple as fatigue."

Oh there is no need to worry over that when he is more than able to be the death of you on his own.

~~~~

The better part of your next three weeks is spent practicing the haunt and slowly loosing your sanity. You don't actually have any lines, or much of anything to do other than follow Vil around really, but that meant you had to spend more time around him. More time around those casual touches and compliments that have invaded your friendship since your trip to the underworld, battering your imagination in directions you had long since tried to convince yourself was forbidden. Vil is beautiful, and his confidence of it strangely not off putting to your foolish heart. But Vil had been clear, he was affectionate to all of his friends in private and no amount of skirting the boundary-

though it was all him, if you could only realize how he is trying so desperately to initiate that he is starting to come unglued

-would make your desire for his love anything less than a pipe dream. A dream made substantially worse by how you did know just enough about what one of his kisses would feel like to fantasize about tasting him on your lips. Not that you could see them from your position at the back of the test group, clammy hands fidgeting with the prop lantern you carry, but his slicked back hair and strategically rumpled suit are so ingrained in your dreams at this point you're sure you know what he looks like.

As if you are the only one tortured by fantasies, as if he did not design that cape specifically to see you in it. As if-

"Horntoads and lizards, fiddle and strum. Please answer the role by beating a drum!" Cater's head begins to "levitate" up off the table as he chants in a show of theatrics that's still impressive even if this is the 999th time you've seen it; Ortho's projection mapping coupled with Cater's willingness to improvise had blended into a really unique act. Something a Scarabia freshmen seems to really agree with you because he immediately starts screaming and flailing around in a way that has you deeply concerned for your poor dorm's safety. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, trying to examine the idiot's body language to determine if he was a threat or not. A decision that's made for you as soon as he goes for his magic pen and you note, perhaps too late, that maybe you should make your guests surrender them before going through the haunt.

"Excuse me." You make sure your cowl is lowered as you gently try to tug his hand away from his pocket and are rewarded with an easily dodged slap. "Well now you're just embarrassing both of us."

"Just what do you think it is you are doing foolish mortal." You swear you saw Vil walk forward, but your brain refuses to register his movements as soon as he opens his voice. "It seems you would prefer to take my way out after all." It's silly, being impressed with a professional actor staying in character, but then it must be equally silly to go a bit jelly legged at seeing Vil drawn up to his full height and radiating confidence. The student whimpers and you again reach for his hand, acting the good spirit gently tugging him away from the grip of the damned souls of the mansion.

"C'mon now, no need to be shy." The student lets you lead him away mutely, clearly disappointed in himself.

~~~~

"And I will see you all a little later." Vil bows, disappearing from the group as they flow into the dancers and he immediately drops his practiced face and begins making his way to his next scene. He has faith in you, so he is not surprised to see you waiting, cowl once again up and swinging your lantern to amuse yourself in a manner that would be cute if he wasn't so worried. "Yuu," Vil does not love how forceful his tone is for the way it makes you jump but the emotions running about in his chest keep him from softening it "are you alright?"

"Just peachy." You try a chipper tone but choke as Vil once again reaches to touch you. He cups your face in his hands like it is precious, examines it careful and runs his perfect fingers along your arms to examine your hands in what feels dangerously close to an excuse to hold them. "Dumbass," he purses his lips "sorry, po-ta-to thought Cater had actually lost his head because of Riddle or something. I made sure to hand him over to Crewel and suggested we take the guest's magic pens to make sure if they do freak out no spells get fired off."

"In hindsight that seems like a rather obvious precaution." Vil exhales, letting out the disappointment and intakes a prideful, teasing look to his eyes as he continues to focus on you. You swallow thickly, how many times has he said what he's about to in these past few weeks? "You're doing an excellent job, I knew I picked the right person to partner with." You look down at your hands, Vil still hasn't let them go. It hurts somewhat, more than nearly being slapped.

"You don't have to say things like that just to make me feel better." You cough and Vil frowns.

"I don't give compliments for the sake of ego you know." He lets go of one of your hand to run his thumb over your quivering lip, staring deeply at the tears you had not noticed until he moves to dry them as if he can erase them from time with sheer will alone. "When I say something to you about how grateful I am to have met you, that I admire you, when I say I find things about you to be beautiful and that I want you to stand beside me, I mean every word."

"If you say things like that I'm going to start thinking you mean something different when you call me your partner." You try to joke and for some reason this is what makes him falter.

"... wasn't that obvious?" Vil, beautiful Vil, has a genuinely surprised look on his face. As if he was not the one who had said he was affectionate to his friends specifically... as if he had expected you to notice how much longer he spent kissing you than Rook or Epel and divine his romantic intent from the way his hand sought yours alone. Perhaps he had thought you had more courage than you did, or perhaps, you think to yourself with some relief, there are some things Vil just doesn't quite know how to say because he is so used to having to prove himself worthy of saying them in the first place.

"Are you sure you want this?" You ask because you feel like you have to, but what you are really trying to ask is if you are allowed to want this, to want him.

"Dangerously so." He rests his forehead against yours, a contented sigh worming its way past his lips at the lack of ambiguity in the way your fingers finally thread through his. "I only have so much time left to keep you to myself you know? When the school year ends I'll have to make excuses to more than just a handful of classmates for why I deserve to be alone with you, without sparking any comments." You had considered that of course, let it fuel your doubts and even still now it flickers slightly in your mind.

"I don't want to take the coward's way out." You say and Vil's eyes betray momentary shock. "I don't want to keep ignoring my feelings."

"Then we are in agreement, my dearest partner." Vil draws you impossibly close and presses one kiss to your forehead to his joy and your rancor before he dips you to give the kiss you really want. "I don't think I could ignore you if I tried."

Welcome, foolish mortals, to this haunted taglist: @nothingfuninthislife

[d0g0r0t]

Bc Toby is literally my bbg you should totally write him with an s/o who takes care of him and is just super nice to him and, it can be sfw or nsfw I don't really mind either

(I'll give you a cookie pls I'm not normal abt him༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ)

Toby x caring reader

TW: NSFW

He wasn't really sure how to process your kindness at first. He couldn't tell if you were faking it or not

But over time when he realized you were true his heart melt

He would be supper shy and awkward around you cause you were so sweet and kind

You would do the littlest things for him and he would look at you like an angle while your doing it

Asking you for things was so easy yet so hard. He knew he could ask you for anything but he was so nervous around you.

You were just so... nice..

He didn't deserve you.. all the things he's done and he gets you? You were to good for him

He's never experienced someone like you. You reminded him of his sister and your kind nature. It made him dizzy with emotions

Even your name sounded so sweet

He would try his best to keep his tics under control PRAYING he doesn't hurt you and bruise your beautiful skin

Sometimes when you two are alone he gets really sappy. Leaning into you, digging his face in your chest, wrapping himself completely around you as your fingers run threw his thick curls

He feels bad when you do simple things for him that any human should do. Brush his hair, help him remember to take a shower or brush his teeth, cook for him

He feels like he's almost using you and he just sinks into himself but after you told him you want to he felt a little better

The moment he sees anyone get even a little rude with you he's on them like a dog, screaming and barking at them. Stepping in between you guys and growling like a protective hound.

The moment their delt with he's getting on your level and using the softest tone asking if your ok and if you need anything

He pushes his emotions back alot until he blows up. But he never snaps at you, he just can't. He'll get really needy if he does show you a bit of aggression. He's at your knees and whimpering how sorry he is for just feeling the wrong thing even tho you have no idea what he's on about

He gets really jealous when he sees you being nice to other people but doesn't step in knowing your nature and your need to care for others

___________________________________________

NSFW

The first time you two got intimate he was literally TREMBLING.

He was scared he might get to rough and accidentally go to far

When you guys were in bed he just stared at you for a few moments trying to process a girl like you under him like this

When he started up he was already whining and whimpering. He was shaking trying not to grip at you to harshly

But over time he has himself wrapped around you moaning in your ear as he pounds himself into you

He's fucks you at a steady pace not going to fast or to slow unless you tell him to

His hips would buck every now and again as he feels your heat squeeze his member letting out desperate whimpers

He rips the sheets from how hard his gripping them as he watches you ride him because he would rather tare the sheets then your skin

Watching you do such acts on him makes him completely red in the face and his body flush and heat up like crazy.

After he finishes he let's out a little gasped and apologizes for cumming so soon and not letting you finish

He will DESTROY his body until you cum to

He's not letting you go unsatisfied after what you've done for him

___________________________________________

IM SORRY IM GETTING THESE OUT SO SLOW ONFG!(#;@[*$[!%

[findmeinthefallair]

I hadn't spotted these a year ago:

Oh my god, guys???!!! Parallels:

2. These are the same face - the Depression Face.

It tugs at my heart like nothing else, because...

3. Oooh never paid attention to this:

4. These lil' guys were moving and animated while sleeping here, aww:

5. The screenshot below, to me, is foreshadowing that Hunter may have expressed his wish to study at Hexside...but once that wish is actually granted, he too is gonna be depressed - at school, specifically - for months, and frustrated that he simply cannot be enthusiastic about classes the way he initially hoped. He'll push and push himself and judge himself for why he "can't even" enjoy lessons he's supposed to be excited about:

6. Do you think they took Hunter to the zoo's bird hall, before he carved Waffles (I personally view it as a good element of exposure therapy)? :

7. People usually put the S1 screenshot of Luz drawing light glyphs, next to the one with Flapjack fading away...but I saw this too:

It makes me wanna chew extra recycled cardboard about Luz and Flapjack parallels, specifically. Because of what they both offered to the world, if you think about it:

8. If Camila went through an outfit change like this in her nightmare:

Imagine the mayhem of Hunter's many nightmares with his many outfits :S

9. A really good reference for how Hunter healed pre-timeskip, is this sequence, where the order has been altered a bit below:

(who knows, maybe Willow recorded a lot of vids of him on her scroll T___T)

10. Wow this sums up the show doesn't it:

11. Ugh you can't tell me that...they wouldn't have had a similar-ish mirror scene with Waffles and older Hunter to these, if we had a full S3 or more seasons:

Him approaching a mirror with no palisman beside him...I can't imagine how that was in those horrible months. (Maybe he does this before heading out to conduct a Palisman Adoption Day)

12. I feel really happy, confidently believing that he unlearned this body language:

in the presence of adults, especially his new parental figures. Coercive control wasn't a dominating theme in his life anymore. And while we didn't see it onscreen, he would've found the space to even initiate connection via physical touch with his parents, like what Luz naturally does here:

I say "physical touch" specifically, because to quote @idlescree's amazing video analyses, Hunter's own physical body - not just his mind - was the ultimate and most intimate battleground for Belos to exert control, by possessing Hunter and using him as a puppet in the most direct way possible. So for Hunter to get physically close to family to express love after Flapjack's death, in spite of terrible spooky thoughts that he might still gravely injure others...that isn't a small feat at all.

13. I think his casual sweater is a plain gold colour, and his cosplay outfit has its yellow colour: because he's still influenced by Belos.

The black of the wolf tee and in the cosplay, feel to me like foreshadowing of his post-possession grief. Even after Flapjack is gone, Hunter still thinks about Belos and is still walking around in the same cosplay outfit. His newfound freedom and healing is reflected in his timeskip design (calm midtones of orange and blue): when Belos has no more hold on him via a painful history. We would see a progression from the predominant darkness of the black colour to those peaceful midtones on his clothing.

14. Best one saved for last! It's a headcanon, but I draw a few connections. @childlikegoblinqueen and I were talking about him likely returning to the place where poor Flapjack was slain, even if it takes a number of years before he can do so. Waffles will be with him.

Imagine...instead of running frantically in the night:

he calmly strolls during a beautiful Halloween evening, with autumn leaves blowing in the wind once again:

There are no horrors awaiting him, and very importantly, he can believe that.

And he visits the spot at the lake, and puts his hand to his chest:

but for once, he can smile while doing that specific gesture. All the times that he has put a hand to his heart in the show, he wasn't smiling (link). He then leaves and then returns to his family (walking in the opposite direction of the portal above) to have an actually joyful Halloween celebration.

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 5

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Enemies to Friends to Lovers (18+ MDNI)

Summary: You and Eddie go on a date extravaganza and the night ends with a bang. 😉

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: Hello, readers! I do apologize for the delays with this chapter i was a lot and really long but it’s finally here. This is fluff to the max with some smuttiness. Eddie is a dom at heart so he’ll def show his rough yet gentle side of sex a lot more. Really hope you all enjoy this chapter! We’ve got 3 more chapters to go and things will be kind of tense but the love will grow exponentially. Thank you for the feedback, support, and love. I love writing for yall!

>>>>Series Masterlist Part 5 of 8

Word Count: 7.9k+

Warnings: lots of fluff, graphic language, tattoos, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!eddie, facefucking, reader and Eddie are horndogs and flustered, semi-public sexual activities, Eddie being a tease, smutty smut, french kissing, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), inappropriate use of belt (bondage), breath play, dacryphilia, hair pulling, scratching, biting, rough to soft sex

Tomorrow had finally come and, boy, were you nervous. Terrified. You’d had several intense dreams last night about the sexy rockstar that would put to shame a boy’s wet dream from how much you flooded your underwear. It didn’t help that you knew what his lips felt like. Now you were up this morning wondering how you’d be able to handle ALL of him when only a taste of him made you see so many stars.

It’s been a while since you had sex. What if you cum fast? Do men care about that stuff? Do they take it as a compliment? You curse yourself for your inexperience.

This looked like the time to call a friend. So you call Chrissy who was more than giddy when she found out you’d finally be getting laid.

“And to a rockstar, at that. Most girls would love to be in your shoes right now. This makes us sisters, ya know. Except you get to go all the way!” She says over the phone.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just cancel…”

“Hell no! If you cancel, you might as well write the word ‘clown’ on your forehead. You deserve to have many orgasms which he’ll definitely provide.”

“Yeah, he really does.” You muttered, only to have your eyes widen because you spoke that a little to loud.

“What do ya mean?” Then you hear a loud gasp. “He ate you out?”

You blush. “Can we not be so vulgar?”

Chrissy rambles, squealing in a pitch dogs would cower in. “Oooh my god! He did! You loved it! I’m sure you did! Tell me details! Tell me how you feel! How many times did you—”

“Okay, okay,” You cut her off, laughing at her eagerness. “It was…in-fucking-credible. Insane. My breath was taken away from at a couple times through the whole thing. Then at the end…mind blowing.”

“Love that for you, babes. Sooo, where are you guys going?”

“I’m not sure but he called me this morning. Told me that the rule for today is that we can’t say ‘no’.”

“Ooo, sounds kinky.”

“I hope not. I don’t think I’m ready for anything too intense just yet.”

“You are! You’re a pretty, sexy bitch and you are unstoppable. Now say it.”

You say it with a reduced, conservative energy compared to her. “I’m a pretty, sexy—”

“Say it like ya mean it, girl!”

Now you’re yelling. “I’m a pretty, sexy bitch and I’m unstoppable!”

“Again!”

“I’m a pretty, sexy bitch and I’m unstoppableee!” You yell into the phone.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Now you dress in your hottest fucking outfit that you’ve ever worn and rock that boy’s world. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you with how much of a fiery force you’ll be so long as you embody your true spirit of…a vixen.”

Indeed, you were the vixen. You were the one who stood up to Eddie. Who put him in his place and made him act accordingly. You were the one you got through the hard shell he put around himself. You needed to be reminded that you weren’t like any girl he’s ever had.

“You’re my fucking soulmate, poms.” You smiled brightly.

“You know it.”

———————

The “Say ‘Yes’ Date Extravaganza”. A date in which you and Eddie would have no particular destination. He’d drive around blindly then if you both spot a specific model of car model in a specific color you’d stop and go to whatever place you’d stopped near.

The date was meant to be all day. So right after your call with your best friend, you got down to business. The look you were going for now. Angelic. A contrast of himself. You were going to be the face of innocence and he would be your devilish temptation. Little would he know that despite your pure appearance, you would be just as sinful seeking carnal corruption.

So you’d dress in all white. White faux leather thigh boots that gave you legs for days. Face makeup meant to give a soft touch to your face. Flowy hair down and kept slick and neat also a contrast to his wild curls. You were opposites but that’s what made this work all so well.

There’s a knock at your door and your heart nearly leap out of your chest. You sauntered over to the door, legs and hands slightly trembling. When the door swings open, you and Eddie exchange looks of enchantment.

Handsome was an understatement. He was sex on two legs. Adonis incarnate. The very depiction of Lucifer as an angel. You could feel yourself growing feral at the very sight of him. His hair up to keep up with his suave look.

Meanwhile, Eddie audibly gulped as he took in your frame. He wasn’t sure how he stood strong when everything in him wanted to crumble to his knees before you and beg for something he wasn’t sure he needed from you.

He carries flowers and a small gift box in his shaking hands, handing them over to you. His face a light shade of pink.

“F-for you.” He manages to get out.

It was so cute to see him when he’s flustered. Actually, it was a huge turn on, too. You reached for gifts, doing what you could so your skin wouldn’t make contact with his or you just might pounce.

“Really?” You asked, surprised at his refreshingly gentleman behavior. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to.” He nods, mustering up a toothy smile.

“Thank you,” You smiled back, forcefully ripping your eyes from him to prevent yourself from looking down at the beckoning erection growing in his pants. You uncovered the small rectangular box and let out a astonished gasp. It was a beautiful silver necklace, the pendant in the shape of a treble clef and encrusted with diamonds. “Oh, my god. Eddie, this is gorgeous. I-I couldn’t.”

He rolls his eyes playfully before gesturing a spin with his finger, wordlessly guiding you to turn your back to him. You opened your mouth to protest but let the words die on your lips, removing your own necklace and obeying his wish. Moving your up and out from your shoulders and back, as he draped the expensive jewelry around your neck. The cold touch of the silver when it first contacts with your skin sends a shiver down your spine. Then, you felt his fingers ghost over the back of your neck and despite the goosebumps that lit across your skin you began to feel hot.

His hands linger on you even after he’s already clasp the necklace around your neck. You can feel his breath against your neck, your chest rising in falling at the sudden lack of oxygen. You slowly turned to looked at him, his fingers dragging across your neck line as you did.

Your stares magnetizing as your eyes attract from his eyes, the his lips, then back to his eyes.

I want him so bad.

He clears his throat backing away. “You should probably put those in water.” He says, referring to the flowers.

“Y-yeah. I will do j-just that. ‘Scuse me.”

Maybe I’ll be putting myself in water, too.

—————

Eddie rented a nice car to drive on the road in style or so he says. Really, you believe that the reason was for its speed.

“You wanna see how fast it goes?” He says, smirking menacingly.

“No, I value my life. Thanks, though.”

“You failed the test.”

“Huh?”

“I was testing you. We’re doing a say ‘yes’ challenge. Ya can’t say ‘no’.”

Oh, right. This challenge could either be the worse thing I agreed on or the best decision of my life.

You groan. “Okay fine.”

“If you said yes before I wouldn’t have done it. But as your punishment….” Eddie lifts his foot off the gas, reeling it back.

“No, no, no!” You put your hands over your eyes.

After a couple of seconds, you realized that you were still moving at same constant speed. You peeked through your eyes at him. Him giving you a wink then looking back on the road.

“You’re an asshole.” You pout.

“I know. But you just look so adorable when your scared,” He chuckles. “It’s your pick first by the way.”

You were meant to pick a model of a car and its color you to elect for this first round of dates. You looked up, finger on your chin as you dramatically contemplated your choice.

“Red Cadillac.” You decide.

“What year?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. I just wanted to be annoying. Maybe find out if you know cars.”

“Not me. My older brother. The guy was obsessed.”

“You have a brother?” Eddie asks, intrigued by the new information.

“Mhm, older brother. By 4 years.”

“What do you think he’ll think of me?” He smiles, knowing it wouldn’t be good.

You were mostly surprised by that fact that he would bring up meeting your brother. That meant meeting your family. The kind of step you’d take once a relationship becomes serious.

“He’d probably kick your ass.”

He laughs. “That’s fair.”

“Oh! There it is. A red Cadillac.” You point.

Eddie gets into a parking spot and you stretch over to his side to look in his window. The sign read as: Frieda’s Art Shop.

“An art shop,” You say, plopping back down in your seat. “How nice. Little shady with the sign but I’m sure it’s just an aesthetic thing. So far the date’s going my way. Hope the next one choice will take us to a nice seminar about female empowerment.”

“You’re just saying that to make me suffer, aren’t you?”

“Can’t say ‘no’.” You shrugged.

“Jokes on you. I actually wouldn’t mind. I support women’s right to fuck who they want.”

“Well…it’s not entirely what female empowerment is about but you’ve got the spirit.” You say, disingenuously. “Now shouldn’t we enter the art shop.”

Eddie looks through the window at the destination then he looks back with a smug look. “Yeah…’art shop’. Let’s go, little vixen.”

He exits the car, leaving you feeling both uneasy and bewildered. Why did he say it like that? That tone in his voice always signals that he’s up to no good.

He opens your passenger door, holding out his hand. You reluctantly take it, wondering what exactly have you gotten yourself into.

When you made it to the entrance, you began to question whether this really was what you thought it was. Your concerns were confirmed when you both entered the premises. It wasn’t an art shop. It was a TATOO shop.

“Oh, no.” You whisper.

“Oh, yes.” Eddie counters.

“You rigged this!”

“It was your choice. Not mine. I’m just really lucky.”

You couldn’t believe it. You had to ask someone in charge what exactly is this place. Scurrying up to the counter, you greeted the purple-haired lady with extensive tats and piercings on her body. “Hello. I saw your sign out there and so I was wondering is this the art shop or…”

“It’s a body art shop. Sorry that signs missing some letters and now it’s become like a running joke with us. Didn’t you see the drawing of the hand with the electric needle? I thought it was self explanatory.”

“I thought it was a paint brush!” You defended.

She shrugs. “You can still see some art. You look like a fresh one. Newbie. I like ‘em new. Wanna get a tat?”

You look behind you, Eddie urging you on. You slumped in defeat, turning on your heels to face the woman who also carried an mischievous smile on her face.

“Alright,” You sigh. “Let’s do this shit.”

“Follow me, freshie.” The lady beckons with one finger.

Unenthusiastically, you walk after, Eddie following behind with a lot more pep in his step. When you were sat in the chair, you looked panically at him when you spotted the needle.

“You’re fun Y/n, remember?” Eddie encourages.

“‘Fun but know her limit’ Y/n. I might pass out right now.”

“What if we get one together? That’ll calm your nerves. I was looking to get one soon and you said you’d be doing the same last time. Today’s the day.”

“Okay. Maybe seeing him do it first will calm me down.” You say to the tattoo lady.

“Alright, whatever calms your nerves, princess. Raul, help our mate over here please.”

You growled. Why did everyone take you as some pamper princess? Back then, you were viewed far from that label. Although, you couldn’t deny the feeling of happiness you felt being treated as such by Eddie.

“Hold on a moment. You’re the bloke from that new hot band, Corroded Coffin! I fucking love your music, bruv.” Raul says.

“Thanks, man.” Eddie says, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

“You think you could play sign my guitar. I’ve got it right here in the shop—”

“No, ya wanker. Can’t you see the man is trying to have a night of fun with his girlfriend. He doesn’t need to be bothered as a celebrity. Treat him as any client.” The lady with purple hair chastises.

“Fuck off, Lilia. You’re no fun.”

“You fuck off, Raul. Grab a needle and let’s get this started.”

Your chairs were positioned side by side. Eddie rolling up his sleeve for a tat in his inner wrist. The moment the needle touches his skin, he lets out a strained yell.

“Oh, crap. It hurts that bad!” You asked, eyes wide.

“No. I just wanted to scare you again.” He laughs.

“One of these days, Munson. Mark my words. I will terrify you.”

Without warning, Lilia begins to tattoo your inner arm and you jerk up. “Watch it, princess.”

“You’re the one who started with no heads up,” You shriek. Eddie holds out his hand and you immediately grip onto it. “This is the craziest thing you’re making me do!”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet. The date’s not over.” His laughter turning into a hiss as the needle dug deeper into his skin.

—————

You and Eddie were now preparing to show off your tattoos as a surprise to each other. You were pleased with the tattoo and honestly it wasn’t so bad but you wouldn’t tell him this or he’d never let you live it down.

“Okay, reveal in 3…2…2 1/2….2 3/4…” He teases.

“Will you please hurry up?” You giggle, jumping up and down excitedly.”

“1.”

You both remove your hands from your tattoos. You both immediately burst into laughter at your tattoos. They were matching tattoos of cats. It was your tattoo artist’s pick and she decided to surprise you both with the matching tattoos.

“She gave us matching ones. How embarrassing.”

“To her defense, she buys us as a couple.” He nudges you with an elbow, your face growing hot.

You didn’t think he’d pick up on her commenting on you being Eddie’s girlfriend figuring it was best to ignore it. Were you his girlfriend? He hadn’t exactly asked.

Before leaving the shop you thanked the artists, Eddie even signing the guy’s guitar and talking about playing sometime together, exchanging phone numbers. It was a nice first start and the two of you had plenty more dates to attend.

—————

“My pick is a black…. Mustang. That’ll be hard to find. I don’t think anyone in this city drives a mustang. We might have to go farther out.”

“I have a good feeling we’ll be seeing one soon and that this time the venue will be in my favor.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that tattoo. I saw your toes curling each time she forced the needle deeper. You like pain.”

You scoffed. “N-no, I don’t.”

“You’re very convincing.” He says, sarcastically. “So…tell me about yourself. I feel like I’m still kept in the dark about you.”

“You know who I was.”

“Not high school. Like your whole life or something. You know a lot about mine with this article thing. What about you though?”

“You’re taking the role as the interviewer?”

“Yep, make it good. I could use a juicy story.” He quips.

“I don’t know. My life’s pretty boring. I didn’t have a terrible childhood. I was just always kinda there ya know. You know, my mom wanted me to take piano lessons. Wanted me to be a prodigy. Be interesting, ya know. Like my older brother who’s great at almost everything. My mom would always brag about him to her friends rarely about me. She wasn’t trying to forget me of course. She was still kind to me. It’s just I wish she noticed what I can do to. What I’m actually good at. My dad was the same only a lot more misogynistic. He didn’t think writing was a girl’s thing. I just got so used to being ignored at home that it was only second nature in school. I found myself comfortable being alone. Sometimes alone doesn’t mean lonely….but I’ve known them both. I’m glad I met Chrissy. She really helped me out my comfort zone in college. Now I don’t feel so lonely anymore. And now with you…I don’t think I’ve felt that feeling at all.”

You couldn’t believe you just admitted that. Yes, you both were on a path to being more real with your feelings but this was too much. Too vulnerable. You wished a black hole could swallow you and collapse in on itself.

“I’m glad you feel that way. I’ve felt that way with you, too. For a while now.” He says in a tone sounded slightly relieved.

“That’s great. I’m glad I can be that person for you, too.” God, you were blushing so much tonight. Him, as well. The two of you staying in happy silence as you drove the narrow road.

Then, you spotted a black mustang.

———————

“Whoaa.” You both say simultaneously, staring up at the tall castle before you.

You were clearly showing yourselves as tourists in the crowd of people but neither of you cared. It was breathtaking. This was definitely set up in the cards for you.

“A tourist attraction where the atttraction’s a freaking castle. You don’t see things like that in Hawkins.” You say, wistfully.

“I don’t like museum but I can admit that this is pretty sick. You wanna explore?”

“Yes!”

Taking each other’s hands, you run up the flight of stairs to the front entrance and eyes taking in the sights before. Beautiful artwork of religious stories depicted on the tall, tall ceilings and endless halls to be explored.

You wanted to act your wildest childhood fantasies of running through a castle. If only you had a longer gown but, nonetheless, you wanted to roam freely without seemingly looking like a complete fool. Eddie must’ve sensed this because instead of following along with the crowd, he sneaks you both into the back of the line before guiding you up the nearest steps with him.

“Where are we going?!” You whispered.

“We can have a history lesson about this place some other time,” He imitates an old Cockney British accent. “Diving into the quest is a far better option, m’lady.”

“I guess we can have our own little tour,” You smiled, bashfully. “Race you to the top.”

Yanking your hand away, you run up the stairs as best as your heel boots would allow you. He laughs, following after you. He could easily surpass you but then he wouldn’t be able to admire you from behind and that’s something he couldn’t allow himself to do just yet. Especially, when the view involves the short hemline of your dress swaying side to side revealing just a couple inches of more of your soft, ample thighs. He regretted his perverted mind, psyching him up enough to want to chase you and pin you up against a wall.

You giggled away, unaware of the turmoil you’d caused within him. He finally catches up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and you squeal in delight.

You turned to face him, his hands lowering to your hip. Believing you would kiss him, he presses his forehead against yours. Your arms slide from around his neck, down his chest feeling the soft material of his shirt along with the hardness of his chest under your fingertips. Instead of doing what he’d hoped, you take his hand and run through the halls.

Every now and again, you’d stop and admire the views of gorgeous renaissance paintings and lavish architecture. By the time, you’d finish exploring the sun was beginning to set.

“There’s a maze here, too. This place is endless.” You say, in exhaustion mixed with excitement.

“Wanna explore it before it gets too dark? We can head to dinner after and then…whatever you decide.” He says, a glimmer of nerves in his tone.

Hw was making it your decision for how the night ends. You appreciated it knowing he was doing this to let you know that tonight didn’t have to end with you both sleeping together.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smile softly.

Once you reached the maze, the museum guides explained that it would be a difficult maze and should you both need help, they’d come after you. But if you did escape the maze then you’d get a prize at the end.

The sun was still setting so there wasn’t much time to wait. You walked through hand and hand, neither of you saying a word. It wasn’t for the fact that you had nothing to say but it was more so that you both were really nervous.

You knew the time was approaching where after this date you’d have to make the decision if you wanted to go all the way. Not that you were being pressured but once you do it , there would be no looking at each other the same way. You know your feelings would only grow from that moment on.

“Yes.” You say, breaking the silence.

He whips head at you confused. “I didn’t say anything out loud…did I?”

You shook your head and laughed, “You didn’t. But this is my answer to you about tonight. ‘Yes, I want to…I want you to…”

He closes the gap between your bodies, causing your words to die on your lips. His hands are calloused and soft, cupping your face. You press a kiss to his palm.

“I want you more.” Eddie whispers, tauntingly.

“Not possible.” You say.

“Pretty sure it is. I’m the one who’s been trying to get your attention for these past weeks. I didn’t think you were interested til you kissed me.” Now he’s admitting things that he’d swear he’d kept all the way to his grave. That old man from the other night wasn’t a mobster…he’s a freaking wizard.

“Think I’m gonna need you to keep my attention some more,” You whispered against his lips. “Kiss me.”

He captures your lips in a chaste kiss. It’s like he’s afraid to go on further. Like he was still giving you room to change your mind. Placing, your hand around the back of his neck, you pull him deeper into the kiss and the ropes of restraint snaps. You’re frenching in the middle of this maze, his thigh between your legs for you to grind against. Little whimpers escaping your lips.

His hands cup your ass to guide your hips against him. Once he felt like you’d picked up on the pace he set, his hands went to the thick strap of your dress. He lowers it, setting your breast free. Instead of hiding yourself, you arched into him, moaning at the hungry look on his face. He dips his tongue in your mouth for one last kiss, you sucking on his tongue to stop him from breaking away but he does. He blows air against your neck before peppering kisses on the supple flesh. Your eyes flutter close, biting your lip at the sensation. Then, you felt a small lick on your breast gasping softly at the feeling of his expert tongue. He’s licking short, flicks up it’s curvature, purposefully avoiding your hardened bud.

When his tongue finally circles around it, you let out a cry loud enough for the guide to voice his concerns from the front of the maze.

“You guys need assistance in there?” The guide inquires.

You both laugh at the context of the question along with the sexual activities you both were participating in. Eddie resumes his ministrations on your nipple and bites down hard enough to jolt you and falters your grinding.

“Oh, fuck.” You whispered, shakily.

He pulls away and a line connecting his lips to your hardened nipple forms, breaking when you tug him by the hair for another kiss.

You almost got carried away, hands traveling down to his belt when he places a hand over yours. “This was just a preview of the fun we’ll be having later, little one. No more.”

“What happened to say ‘yes’ extravaganza? You’re saying ‘no’ to me.” You whined.

“With good reason,” He says, fixing your dress. “We’re in public.”

“Never stopped you.” You retort.

“True, but I’m a changed man.” His body peels off yours and you instantly miss the warmth of his body.

Snaking an arm around your waist, you both walked through the maze. It’s dark now and you could hardly see where you’d just come from.

“Okay, I think it’s time we call it a night. This is harder than I thought it was.” He cups his hands over his mouth to call for help when you place wrap a hand around his wrist and point at the few lights in the sky.

Sky lanterns. Without a word, you follow the lifht in awe not thinking of how fast you were going. You needed to see where exactly they were coming from.

It seemed like you were getting closer because more and more sky lanterns littered the night sky. Until finally, you’d made it out of the maze, a female guide waiting at the end with two sky lanterns.

“Congratulations! You made it to end of the maze. Very few could do it. Here are your lanterns. Straight through that walkway, it will lead you to an area near our pond where guests are releasing their lanterns. It’s a little treat before the holidays. Enjoy!” She hands you both your lanterns and you both walk down the stone pathway passed the tall trees and then you were where the clear skies were. Floating lanterns filled the sky illuminating the rippling pond. There were families, couples, all sorts of groups releasing their lanterns and the atmosphere just felt magical.

You made an agreement with one another to release your lanterns once you thought about something you wished for.

“What’d you wish for?” He asks.

“You know the rules. If I tell you, it won’t come true.” You flip your hair off your shoulders.

“You’re boring,” He says, pinching your nose. “Ready to release?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod, eagerly.

“3, 2…1!”

You release, following your lanterns in the sky. They bumped and swirled against one another before disappearing in the sea of lights.

This confirms it, saying ‘yes’ was my best decision so far.

From your perspective, all you saw were the lights. From Eddie’s perspective, you were the light. A light brighter than any of the ones in the sky. You stared up and giggling to yourself at the beauty and he’s smiling to himself, lucky to see such a sight on you.

You glance at him, nearly missing his stare until you did a double take. You smile, curling up against his body, your head resting against his chest.

“You wanna get out here? I’m starving.” You sighed, hugging your arms tight around his waist.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“If I tell you, you’d probably look at me different. But for now, simply, I could eat some Italian.”

He kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you what you want.”

—————

You downed your third drink for the night. The nerves making you drink as you searched for a boost of liquid courage. Neither of you had ordered any actual food up until this point. When the waiter left, you let out a string of words in an attempt to carry the conversation away from sex. “I can’t believe I got a tattoo. What will my parents think when they see this?”

“Probably how awesome it looks and how they’ll wish they were as cool as us.” Eddie laughs only slightly tipsy.

“Oh, yeah, my parents would totally want tattoos of cats holding guns.” You snort.

He just looked so good. How on earth are you not supposed to think about sex when he looks at you like that? You didn’t realize you were biting lips and staring at him as he spoke until he stopped and chuckled. “You okay?”

“I’m fuck—fine. I’m fine.” You facepalm yourself mentally at the freudian slip.

“Someone’s got a dirty mind.”

“Oh, god.” You hide your face.

“I’m just playing around. I’m actually having a tough time not thinking about it either.”

“Maybe we should skip dinner and order takeout. I don’t want to avoid this anymore, Eddie. I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie nearly spat out his drink in shock. He must’ve heard you wrong? No way would you be this direct.

“H-huh?” His heart beat loud in his ears as he does what he can to focus on your words.

“I said, ‘I want you to fuck…me’. I don’t want to wait anymore. I need you.”

“Shit. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure if I can stand right now. That just made me so hard.”

“Don’t make me wait. I want to feel it.”

“How badly?” He leans in closer.

“So badly. I wanted it ever since I’d seen you this morning.”

“I wanted you ever since you walked in my dressing room.”

“Then, take me. Make me yours.” You were like horny teenagers again, ready to search for the nearest room to pounce at each other.

You wren’t planning on staying for the food. Dropping some cash on the, Eddie and you make your way out trying to keep your hands away from each other long enough so you wouldn’t tear at each other’s clothes in the middle of the restaurant.

———

Every red light was an opportunity to feel his lips on your, every now and then you’d palm the front of his crotch. He was so huge. You knew the first time he’ll enter you, it’ll hurt but you’d willingly take that pain over the aching you felt for him not being inside you now.

He was driving at a little under the speed limit, not wanting to scare you. His need was so strong that if he didn’t hold back, he’d slam on the brakes.

“Faster.” You whined.

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“Oh, now you don’t,” You groan. “Please drive faster. If I don’t have you, I think I might go crazy.”

“And you think I’m not going crazy with how needy your being. I want to take you in so many ways.”

“Then, do it. Right now. Fuck the hotel. Let’s do it here.”

“Y/n, not another word. We’re almost there.” He rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down in an attempt to soothe you but it only made everything worse.

You brush his hand away. “No! Don’t do that or we won’t be leaving this car.”

“Almost there.” He says, breathing heavily.

When you spotted the hotel in the distance growing closer you felt such a relief. The tension had consume you deeply and in return you absorbed it’s energy. Once the car’s parked, your hands are each other once again. You make way with his hairtie releasing his wild curls and tangling your fingers into them.

It was a good thing that as you stumbled through the lobby that no witnesses were there aside from the front desk receptionist who neither of you could care less for the situation.

The elevator felt like a long ride up to but it didn’t stop your wandering hands and exploring mouths. By the time you reached his room, you could barely let him stick unlock the door, pulling him into another kiss whenever he’d try.

“Just a sec, babygirl.”

“No mor waiting.” You whisper, breathlessly. Pecking his lips over and over.

“It won’t be long.”

You reluctantly release him from your grip and he turns to quickly and frustratingly unlock his room door. Once he’d managed to open it, it’s like an unholy spirit bestowed upon him. His eyes that glimmer with excitement now replaced with intense dark eyes.

You take in his shift in demeanor. It was enough to bring you to your knees and it did…at least it almost did until he’d wrapped his ring-clad finger around your throat, guiding you back to your feet.

“Strip for me.” He orders.

You swallowed hard but you knew you would listen with little ifs, ands, or buts. He releases you, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and giving you the spotlight. You remove your shoes first and showing off your legginess. Next came, the straps of your dress. You slowly move them down your shoulder, revealing your breasts before him. You’re given any room to feel embarrassed as he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

While you allows your dress to slide down your body, you notice his hands unbuckling his belt, snaking it out of the loops of his pants; eyes still glued to your figure. You stood before him now in your lace thong, making the next move to remove them.

“Keep them on.”

He saunters over to you taking your wrists in his hands. You look up at him with doe eyes, curious and filled with desire.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“How do you it?”

“In any way you like. Just take me. Please.” You begged.

Wrapping the belt around your wrists and knotting it tight, you were at his mercy. That’s the way you both liked it. He guides you to the bed, you’re on your back with your tied hands above your head. You looked so ravishing before him. Submitting your body to him to do as he wishes. He won’t let you regret this. He aims to please you and leave you dumbified at the end of the night.

He starts by kissing up your legs, exchanging between the two. When he places a kiss on the top of your clothed covered pussy, you squirm in need as you’re reminded of the feeling of his lips between them. He dips a tongue into your bellybutton, chuckling as you moaned out loud.

He grips your side, squeezing as he adored your body. When he makes it up to your face, he kisses in heated passion. Busied by his talented mouth, you didn’t notice his hands push aside your under, dipping a finger into your tight, hot channel. He pumps away inside of you curling his fingers and wiggling it in spots that made you gush around him.

“Eddie!” You cried out, bringing your hands down to slow him but, with his free hand, he pins them back up over your head. Years of guitar and piano, had it’s perks for Eddie making him incredibly skilled at bringing a woman to tears from pleasure in a matter if seconds.

You were sobbing uncontrollably, feeling him the cold ring tap over and over against your clit. It was too good and mind-numbing to the point where you’d nearly forgotten you were in a hotel room where people can surely hear you through these thin walls.

When he pulls out, his fingers glistened, hovering over you. Your slick has the consistency of honey as Eddie spread his fingers apart to admire the way it dripped and clung to his finger. He tastes you, moaning.

“I love the way you taste, Y/n. Can’t wait to have more.”

You were dead. He’ll be using his fingers and his mouth down there and you were going to die from an overload of bliss. It’s not exactly a terrible way to die.

He slips your thong of you, inhaling its scent. God, even the way you smell was addicting. You were the death of him just as he were for you.

Turning you over on your stomach, he drags you by the legs, making sure you were bent over the edge; feet planted back on the ground. He spreads you wide, seeing your juices seeping from your puckering core.

He’ll mentally capture this moment. You bent over his bed with your perfect ass in the air. He gets on his knees behind you, toying with you clit with a few fingers and eliciting a broken record of moans. Then, his lips and tongue make contact and you began to ride back against his face in a desperate attempt to cum. His nails sinking into the flesh of your ass, enjoying the way you bucked against his awaiting mouth.

“That’s right, baby. Ride my face.” He rasps, smacking one ass cheek in the process. You groan, using the bed as leverage to rut against his face made for riding. His thick fingers are added back into the equation again, thrusting into you to produce more of your wetness. Whatever pours from you, he collects on his tongue wiggling around to drink of the aphrodisiac.

“You’re so fucking good, daddy,” Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. “You gonna make me cum so hard. Please.”

You throw a hand over your mouth, shoving your face into the mattress when you feel his long, fat tongue plunge into your pussy all while his finger played with your sensitive nub.

“Ohhh, unh my god. I’m close.” You pant, flashes of light spotting your vision.

He can barely talk. So invested on your pleasure solely, he couldn’t break his focus to speak when he wanted nothing more than to feel you quaking around his tongue.

“Eddie, oh fuck!” You came harder than you did the last time which was dangerous for you. You were hyperventilating like you ran a marathon as a wave crashed into you, causing your arousal to run down your wobbly legs.

He slurps up whatever he could, groaning at the aftershocks racking through your body that jolt you back against his face.

He stands to his feet turning you back to face him and your blissed and spaced out. You were boneless but alive.

You sit up once you recovered, sliding down the bed to your knees in front him; your hands resting on his pants.

“This is about you.”

“And this is what I want.” You unbutton the front of his pants, eyeing him as you did so.

You lower his pants along with his underwear, kissing his soft belly and the trail of hair. One more tug and he springs out of his confines, popping out like a 3D movie.

This is your first time seeing his dick. It’s obviously incredibly huge. Veiny cock with a pink engorged tip, super thick and long, you questioned how could any man be this blessed.

He’s mouthwatering. You take him in your hands, running the tip and base over your lips. You kiss his cock hoping it’s enough to express your craving of him. He stares down at you from above thumbs swiping sweetly across your cheek as you take him into his mouth.

He hisses. “Fuck, that mouth is good.”

He grips your hair, guiding you against him. Despite your hands being bound together you made it work. With the force of his thrusts and his cock hitting the back of your throat, you pump him in between these moments. Gagging and salivating as you’re attempts to swallow him proved to be a challenge.

“You look so fucking hot. Got your mascara running down your face trying to swallow me, little vixen.” He brings you all the way down, your nose hitting meeting his happy trail and taking in his manly scent.

He pulls out of your mouth, watching as you coughed at the vigorous throat fucking.

“Cum in my mouth. Wanna taste you on my tongue.”

“Stick it out for me.”

You do as he says, sticking out you the wet appendage to offer for his enjoyment. He run his cock back and forth over your tongue, then slams back into your throat again. Your lips stretching further to accommodate him and whatever your mouth couldn’t reach, you stroked energetically.

With his balls drawing in, you began to with them to the actions of your head bobbing.

“Aw, fuck, Y/n….don’t fucking stop. Such a good girl.”

He sounded so sexy, falling apart because of you. “Mmm, yes, baby. Yes. Show me how much you want it.”

You sucked harder, staring into his eyes daringly. You wanted his soul and he’ll gift it to you with a smile on his face. “Shit, shit, shit.” He chants in succession, flooding your mouth with his cum. You’re relentless as you continued to suck him off with fervent passion, drinking every last drop.

His knees nearly buckle. You were sucking him to the point of sensitivity and he felt like maybe his life force had been sucked away, too. He hadn’t even penetrated you and already he’s weakened by your touch.

You pull off him, looking like you were expecting more. He couldn’t be more proud at this.

“Can I have it inside me now?” You rubbed your head against his thigh.

“You want it hard?”

“Please, so hard.”

“I might ruin that tight little pussy. You have felt a dick like mine.”

“I can handle it.“

“Give me your hands.”

You extended you hands, he frees them from the restraints and you’re more than happy. You were rewarded with the permission to touch him.

“Should I get a condom? I’m clean but I’m not sure I’ll be pulling out if I’m inside you.”

“Don’t. I’m clean and on the pill. I got on it for you, hoping one day I’d get to have you. Thank you for giving me your cock, sir.” You kiss his thigh, you were a complete opposite of yourself. You could hardly recognize who you were but it was his affect on you which resonated so intensely with you.

You’re laid back against his bed. You complained of the amount of clothes, he still had on and he listens; throwing off his clothes. You love the way his body looked. He was covered in tattoos and he was had the kind of body that was fit yet soft enough for your to cuddle.

He wanted to watch your reaction once he slipped to you. Skin against skin, eyes locked. The engorged head of his cock pressed against your entrance.

“Tell me when it hurts, okay?”

You nod. He presses the tip into you and although you felt the burn of the stretch, it didn’t seem to bad. Until he’d knocked deep into you, splitting you open inch by inch. You’re eyes widen.

“Oh, my god. Wow. I’m being split in two,” You choked out, blinking back tears. No matter how wet you were, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. “Oh wow. Wow.”

He kisses at the teary corners of your eyes, circling your clit as he deep, slow stroke into you. You hear the noise of squelching build up as he pick up the pace, watching his mouth fall open at the feeling of you.

“So damn tight.” He growls.

You whimpered. The pain slowly dissipating to a bubbling pot of lust, love, pleasure combined. You dig you nails into his back, raking down on the freckled skin.

“It’s so good.” You mewled before capturing his lips.

Once he felt like, you’d gotten used to him. He’d gone rougher, heavy balls hitting against you ass as he pummeled into your sweet heat.

You closed your eyes, smiling a little at the feeling of him filling you over and over. You missed this feeling and you were most happy to know that it was him that would claim your body after so long being off men.

His chokes you, gently hitting a spot deep enough in you that made you yelp with every slam against it. He lit you up in ways that you didn’t understand. The lack of oxygen feeling euphoric. He releases his tight grip and you gasp for air only to feel it cut short once again.

He whispers the dirtiest things in your ear along the lines of ruining you for other guys and keeping you tied to his bed for the rest of the trip and it worked enough to have you spilling in his sheets.

“I’m gonna cum. Daddy, can I please cum?” You asked, your tone pornographic.

He hits up into your guts and you can feel him, prodding through your stomach, nudging the spongy button within you.

“Cum for daddy. Make daddy all wet.”

You weren’t sure how you would do that until you felt him reach a depth of you that flash your vision white and you screamed as the sensation built and built then released with a satisfying flow of wetness.

You whined loud as he bit into your neck, pounding and sloshing around in your pussy. You were clenching around him hard enough to keep him from thrusting with ease.

With one last clench, he spills within you not long after after you. Breathing heavily and stifling his whines, he wrings himself for all he’s worth within you, coating your walls.

You were being filled by a rockstar. By Eddie Munson. A man you admired from afar. A man you hated once. A man who you once considered as your friend. This very man made you cum so hard around him, making you already anticipate for another chance at this.

He stills inside of you with a satisfied sigh. You playing with the curls of his hair. The night had ended with a band, indeed.

He pulls out of you, the sudden lost making you feel cold again. With laying next to you, it isn’t to bad especially when he pulls you to his side to rest on his chest. He looks down, smiling at you. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel like I just experienced something so out of this world. I feel like a whole new woman!

“I’m thinking for the rest of the night I’ll continue to make you feel that way. Anything to keep my girl by my side.”

You tensed. “Your girl?”

“Y-yeah,” He laughs dryly. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

You smiled, giddily. Maybe it was the butterflies in your stomach from those orgasms or overall having Eddie as yours but it felt like you were on top of the world.

“Of course, it’s okay, Eds. I’m your girl.” You kissed his sweaty chest, curling into him.

“Good,” He sighs his relief, squeezing you closer. “The night’s far from over just so ya know. I’ve waited patiently for you. I’m going to get my fill of you by the end of the night. If that’s possible of course.”

“Bring it,” You challenged with a smirk. “I was wondering if it was only a warm up.”

He chuckles, darkly. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now.”

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255

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[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 31 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 30 | lesson 32

normal and hard

now idk about the rest of y'all, but it took me a minute to make this choice. i was stuck between not knowing and thinking that he won't. there's a slight chance that he'd tell them in the instance kayden hadn't tried to talk to him and explain, but they did

levi cares too much about mc to let anything bad happen to them. he knows that if he tells one of his brothers, they'll tell lucifer. once lucifer finds out, he'll be furious, and not only that, he'll be terrified

lucifer masks his fear with anger, like we've seen him do in season one of nb and multiple times in the og game. this also makes me really like the peacock theme throught his demon form; they're big ass, scary ass birds who try to show up other birds by flaunting their feathers to make themselves look better. but instead of lucifer doing it for mating tactics, he does it to protect himself and his brothers from any harm that could come their way

leviathan knows this. he doesn't want mc to get hurt, even with the possibility of him never seeing them again looming over his head constantly. he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he caused anything bad to happen to them, especially if it turns out that he had the wrong idea about their conversation with solomon and that all his anxiety was for nothing

also the clock ticking in the background during this scene ??? impeccable tension building on the game devs' part. we're running out of time to make pacts with everyone, and solomon and mc both know it

goofy ass sticker chain 😭

mc 🤝🏽 me

blowing up people's phones when they ignore me or don't answer within 5 seconds

see i was also thinking lotan

but what if it just means they're all gonna have a crying fest once kayden has to leave for good??

...it's probably lotan

what if it's both? AND lotan? and a long awaited reappearance of henry the snake 🫶🏽

baby no :((

i wish he realized his worth more, but removing yourself from a cycle of self-deprication and self-loathing is easier said than done

i think he's feeling guilt on top of his already expressed betrayal and self-loathing. he doesn't think he deserves all the care and patience mc is trying to give him, and he hates the fact that they keep trying to talk to him when he won't budge. he thinks they're wasting time by even trying to be around him because it "doesn't matter" when he's not around, or, at least it shouldn't in his mind

this is even worse than what i thought initially MY HEART

and it hurts even more bc levi might not have been able to say this if he was face to face with mc. he's never said anything quite like this to them in all the screentime he's had when he's being vulnerable around mc

imagine if he hadn't heard the conversation between them and solomon? mc leaving him would've hurt so much more bc he wouldn't have had any proper reassurance from mc to tell him that they love and care for him as much as he loves and cares for them, if he even thinks they feel that strongly about him at all

i guess it was lotan. well

also ending a lesson like that is insane but i digress

me 🤝🏽 mammon

adhd twins

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS BACK i can die happily now

but why is she talking like chloe from miraculous ladybug (iykyk)

also we STILL haven't made a pact with beel after that hassle of an angel trial i'm sick

[multiplefandomwritings]

Yellow

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader

warnings: none really

summary: yellow is the color of sunflowers, sunshine, lemons, joy and happiness and of all the things Mick associates with you.

notes: the schumacher accident never happened in this one. feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! this one shot is part of the "love in different colors" series. also, the poem in the beginning was written by me.

disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 4.8k

Wildflowers

Need 

Sun

Wildflowers 

Need

Water

You 

Are

My

Sun

Shining

On

The 

Wildflowers

Your

Love 

Is 

Their

Water

They 

Are 

Blooming

Rapidly

Growing

Fast

And 

Beautiful

2007

He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him. It is summertime, and he is barefoot. He doesn’t need shoes where he is going, you live down the street from his home. He believes he hears his mother’s voice scolding him, but he does not care. He knows that she isn’t serious. He laughs and he hears his mother laughing before he runs through the little garden door and onto the sidewalk.

Only a couple more houses. He greets the neighbors, who only see his fair colored hair running by. They know exactly where he is off too. He comes to a halt in front of your house, which is a lot smaller than his. He looks at the beautiful yellow sunflowers growing in front of the property. He has to put his head back to admire the flower heads because the stems excel his little body. He catches his breath and skips onto the walk that leads to your front door. Jumping up the stairs, he is about to ring the bell when the door is ripped open, and you hurl your body at Mick.

Few minutes later you sit on the swings of the playground close by. “And we went to the beach almost every day, Mick! The sand was almost white, not yellow at all, like I always imagined. Mama bought me a yellow dress and it is so pretty, I must show you next time, I will wear it on the first day of school!” You always talk that much, and even more when you are excited like you are right now. Mick doesn’t mind. He can spend all day listen to you, every day.

Two weeks later, when school starts again, Mick picks you up to walk together. You walk out of the door; the sunflowers are still blooming, and you wear the yellow dress. And somehow this day changes everything for him, he just doesn’t know it yet. It is in this moment that Mick thinks for the first time that he might loves you. It is innocent, it is playful and still so very, very real. After school, when you are still wearing the yellow dress and he waits for you outside the school so that the two of you can walk together, he decides to be brave. When you skip down the stairs of the school building, he smiles at you, you smile back. One of your milk teeth is missing, but it makes your smile just more adorable.

Micks heart beats fast in his chest when your little hand grabs his. On the way home you stop by one of the many fields surrounding your hometown and he picks a yellow dandelion for you. “You know, one day I am going to marry you!”, he says, and you take the flower from his hand and put it behind your ear. “You better!”, you answer him and stand on your tippy toes to blow just the hint of a kiss on his cheek. Then you laugh loud and free and start to run towards home. Mick laughs and he follows you.

2013

Six years later, Mick is still your best friends. You don’t see each other than much anymore because he goes karting a lot now. He is on track almost every day. Sometimes you tag alone, sitting on the bleachers, doing your homework, and watching him racing by. Today is one of these days. It is late spring, the sunshine starts to warm up with every day passing, and you look forward to the summer, because Mick usually has more time then. It is too warm to go carting, and you would have his undivided attention once again. You wear a yellow sweatshirt, and you wave at Mick when he steps out of his cart.

He smiles, waves back and comes over to you. “Hey”, you greet him with a wide smile. “Hey back”, he says and sits down next to you. He pulls you in a short side hug. “You really missed something today at school”, you tell him, “Lukas asked Susanne to be his girlfriend!” “No way!”, Mick exclaims, more excited by your excitement. He doesn’t really care about what happens at school.  Life is very different for the two of you nowadays, while you go to school, meet your friends after and on the weekends, he is always busy. Some days he doesn’t show up at school at all. You don’t like these days. School is better with your best friend.

You are just teenagers now, but it doesn’t feel like that. You still play with barbies, and Mick is too busy to go around in circles in a little car and adolescence hasn’t quite reached the two of you yet. Some of your friends start to date, if you can really call it that, but that is still a bit weird to you and Mick. For other people it is not, and they start to ask if you are a couple, and both of you always say no. Sometimes Mick wishes that you would say yes but that would mean that he would have to kiss you and he thinks that is gross.

“Mick? You are not listening!”, you accuse him. He utters a quite apology. “What were you thinking about?”, you ask, and he becomes bright red. He doesn’t know what to answer you, and he is grateful when his father waves the two of you over. You get up first, the conversation quickly forgotten when Michael tells the two of you that you would go and get ice cream.

You cheer, your arms wrapping around the neck of his father. Mick wishes that was him in that moment. You climb into the car and Mick gets in as well, and you are already talking again, this time telling Michael about your day at school. At the ice cream place, you get lemon ice cream in a cone, like always. It is your favorite; you always tell Mick that. Like he would ever forget. You happily hold your cone in your hand, your tongue licking up the yellow delicacy. Mick watches you closely and for a moment a thought comes to his mind. Maybe kissing wouldn’t be as gross if it was you and if you just ate lemon ice cream, because you would taste like lemons and his ears turn red just a tiny bit.

2016

You are as kind as summer, that much Mick knows. The sunshine that hits his face right now reminds him of the glow of your soul. He is really happy with his life right now, but he is even happier when he gets to spend time with you. He is excited for next year because he would finally start in Formula Three and it is a new chapter. The both of you are older now, proper teenagers now, awkward and shy and there is a little shift in your friendship. It is in lingering touches and testing the waters yet none of you makes the first step, because this friendship you have is worth more than anything else. Also, Mick is older now and he doesn’t think kissing is gross anymore. But he finds out that most of the time when he kisses a girl – which is rare, you know, since he is usually surrounded by boys – he thinks about lemon ice cream and how you would taste.

You still talk a lot, like you always used to do, and it is reassuring to Mick, because even though is life is fast and exciting, it shows him at some things stay the same. It is the comforting notion of consistency that he associates with you. Generally, you haven’t changed that much, Mick thinks as he observes you while you are talking. You are more grown now, obviously, but while his face breaks out with pimples every once in a while, yours seems to be graced by the absence of puberty acne. Or maybe he just never looked closely enough, so he decides to do that now. You shave your legs now; he realizes and for a moment he asks himself whether that is because of a boy. But, he tells himself, you would tell him if you have a crush on someone.

Then, on the other hand, he isn’t really there anymore. He makes an effort to see you though, he likes to tell himself. But mostly the two of you hang out these days when your parents meet up and you tag along. Just like today, when your father had cooked saffron risotto and you had lemon ice cream for dessert. The two of you sit on the old swings of a long-abandoned playground and sway back and forth just a bit. You look more beautiful now, Mick realizes as he continues to watch you, more grown-up. “You never really listen anymore!”, you complain, and he is ripped from his thought. “Even when you are here, you are never really here!”, you accuse before you get up and stomp through the grass and the dandelions towards the house. Micks wants to tell you that he wasn’t thinking about racing but that he was thinking about you, but he doesn’t know how to, so he rather doesn’t say anything. Instead, he walks back to the house as well and pays the tall sunflowers next to garden gate no attention.

2017

He hasn’t seen you for a while. He is just so busy with racing, that he rarely comes over anymore. It makes him sad. You still text, but it became rather occasionally. You have your friends in your hometown, you are settled in school. He doesn’t want to take that away from you by pushing his non-existing presence on you. Truth is, he misses you. He misses your friendship. You are still friends, obviously, and he knows that he can call you and you will pick up and listen to him no matter what. But you don’t call him for this kind of stuff anymore. You are not best friends anymore, friends more for the fact that you had grown up together rather than anything else.

But today he wants to change that. He wants to reconnect with you, breath life back into the relationship that is slowly fading away. He is back home for two or three weeks, so he decides to just go over to your house like he used to. Suddenly he feels like he is 6 or 8 or 12 again. He opens the familiar garden door and slips though. The sunflowers stand as tall as ever, but he doesn’t need to look up anymore. Your parents’ car is not there, so he assumes that you are home alone. He rings the doorbell, but nothing happens. No one comes, and he is about to leave, when he hears you calling from upstairs. “I will be right there!” He hears you run down the steps. And then you rip open the door. You wear a yellow summer dress, and your cheeks are flustered. “Mick!”, you exclaim, “What are you doing here?”

You seem happy to see him, but it is not like it used to be. You don’t move in for a hug, you don’t grin widely. A small smile graces your face. “Hey”, Mick scratches the back of his head, “I was back in town, so I wanted to check in and see how you are doing.” You are about to answer when you get interrupted by another person emerging from behind. “Oh hey, babe. Mick was just coming by to say hi”, you smile up to the guy standing behind you. An arm snakes around your waste. “Hey Mick, I am Felix. Y/n has told me a lot about you!”, he extends his hand and Mick takes it to shake it. “Do you want to come in? We have some freshly made lemonade”, you ask him, but he shakes his head.

He forces a wry grin on his face. “No, thank you. I just remember that I need to help my mum with something. But you two have a good day!” Felix waves him goodbye and disappears into the house. Mick turns around and when he is almost through the garden door, he hears you calling after him. “It was nice seeing you again, Mick.” He smiles at you, and this time it is sincere. “You, too.” He leaves your property and returns home.

He doesn’t know exactly why it pained him to see you with another guy. It was not like what you had was exclusive. If he was honest with himself, there was nothing between you at all. All he can think about is that you must taste like lemon when Felix kisses you because you made lemonade, and he finds that this isn’t really fair.

2019

It is a warm summer day, the sun shining. You cover your eyes with your hands, looking up into the sky. You smile. It is a beautiful day. You laugh when a finger pokes in your side. “Mick, stop!”, you laugh and stick your tongue out at the boy next to you. Both of you have found your way home for the summer break, and despite not having seen each other for a while, it feels just like 2008, 2012, 2015, all over again.

You didn’t really talk to each other for a few years when Mick was always away and busy and your lives were really different. You were teenagers, and it felt impossible to bring your different lives in harmony, so you separated paths for a while, both you doing your own thing. You outgrew your teenager years at some point, however. Mick still remembers the day you reached out to him again, a delicate try to revive a friendship that had been lost between the passing years. He was so happy when you called him that evening when he laid under the yellow light of just another hotel somewhere. The pillows were bright yellow, so bright they almost hurt his eyes. You call and he almost tells you. “I thought of you when I entered the room because the pillows are yellow and so are you to me”, but he doesn’t. He is just happy to hear your voice and he listens to you talking, and he spends hours on the phone with you.

Now, you are laying on the grass by the local lake. Dandelions sprouts, poking out in between the green patches of the meadow, and you want to stay here forever. You lay on your towel; you feel like you are surrounded by a yellow ocean of flowers. The skin of your arms tingles – you forgot to use sunscreen. Possibly you would have a little sunburn later, but you couldn’t care less. Micks’ blonde hair is almost golden in the sun, you are blinded when you look at it. You feel hot. You don’t know whether it is the sun or something else. You decide not to think about it for now.

The blonde boy next to you wears a yellow cap. “Yellow is not your color!”, you tease, and he mocks offense. Then he laughs and puts the cap on your head. You smile and stick your tongue out. “Yellow is very much your color, though!”, he says so casually the compliment almost escapes your grasp. Then you realize and a little blush forms on your cheeks. You turn away from him, embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

“Let’s go for a swim”, you say to change the topic and get up. You are wearing a white bathing suit that has sunflowers all over it. You take of the cap and throw it on your towel, where it almost disappears because your towel is yellow as well. For a moment you think about that, the fact that yellow seemed to have seeped into the relationship Mick and you have had for all these years.

Mick agrees, and you both make your way to the water. The coolness of the lake water is a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You splash around, laughing and joking with each other, like nothing has changed since you were little kids. The years of barely talking are long forgotten. As you swim, you can't help but steal glances at Mick. He has always been handsome, but something about him has changed since the last time you saw him. Maybe it's the way he carries himself, or maybe it's just that you're seeing him in a new light now that you're older. After a while, you both swim back to shore and lay back down on your towels. You feel the warmth of the sun drying your skin and the coolness of the grass beneath you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, enjoying the peaceful moment.

You must have fallen asleep, and you are awakened by something tickling you on your back. Slowly, you open your eyes. You spot Micks body next to you, and the close proximity makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. “Don’t move”, Mick whispers and you do as he says. When he is done with whatever he was doing, he grabs your yellow polaroid camera from besides you and stands up. You can hear the shutter click two times and then Mick sits down next to you. He wipes something off your back. His gentle touches give you goosebumps on your arms and leave you feeling warm inside your chest.

“All done”, he says a few seconds later and you sit up. Around you, you can spot the yellow dandelions laying on your towel. “What did you do?”, you ask with suspicion in your voice. “I created art!”, he says and holds on of the polaroid pictures in your peripheral vision. You can only steal a quick glance before he tugs it away under the cap, shielding from the sun and giving it time to develop. “Whatever you say!”, you say, and he looks at you intensely for a moment. It freaks you out a bit, so you stick out your tongue at him and he laughs. He turns away and looks over at the other side of the lake where a handful of people surround the little hut that sold ice cream and fries and everything you needed for a day by the lake. “Ice cream?”, he asks you and you nod. “Lemon?”, you nod again and want to get up, but he gently pushes you down on the towel. “My treat”, he says and before you can argue he gets up and disappears.

When Mick returns, he is already fighting for his dear life. The ice cream is melting and dripping everywhere, and you cannot help but chuckle a little bit. Mick throws you a playful glance and you lose it when his eyes cream falls, just beside his towel. “Shit!”, mutters Mick and sits down. He hands you the ice cream, looking a bit like a puppy. “We can share”, you offer and hold the cone out to him. He takes a big lick and both of you have to laugh.

2020

You arrive in Sakhir on a Wednesday and Mick personally picks you up at the airport. He is nervous, he doesn’t really know why, but he maybe because this race could be the one that decides about his championship. Or maybe he is nervous because he is picking you up and he again hasn’t seen you for a few months and he missed you so much.

You step out of the airport in sweatpants and a pale yellow shirt and Mick thinks you might be the most gorgeous person he has ever seen. You look confused, a bit lost, until you see him. Your face lights up and Micks heart drops when he realizes that you are so excited that you are running towards him. Before you reach him, you drop your suitcase and jump into his arms. He catches you; he holds you close, and he takes in your scent – you smell like lemons and sunflowers and happiness. You smell like yellow, and Mick cannot remember that he has ever smelled something more delicious before.

He lets go of you eventually and takes your suitcase and your backpack from you, whatever he can to help you out. He brings you to his rental car, which weirdly enough is an ugly yellow and he holds the door open for you. He drives you to the hotel while you excitedly tell him about your flight and what movies you watched and what your favorite song is at the moment. You also tell him stories he already heard because you call almost every day, but he doesn’t mind.

Sometimes, when he makes a comment or throws in a joke, you laugh and place a hand on his bicep he swears he melts like the lemon ice he shared with you last summer by the lake. You arrive by the hotel, and he again carries your stuff up to your shared room. It is big, bigger than any hotel room you had ever stayed in and the first thing you do is to step out onto the balcony into the warm sun and close your eyes. Mick joins you soon after, and as the sun is starting to go under, a golden husk is painting your face in a shining yellow. You look like the sun, Mick thinks, and you feel like he it too, he thinks when you look at him and smile.

A bit later, you meet with the Schumacher’s for dinner in a place close by. It is the perfect mix of a restaurant and a bar, looking almost like some American diner. You order burger and fries, and lemonade and Mick steals a sip. You complain, playfully and take a sip of his beer as retaliation. Life is good right now, it is happy and joyful and yellow, Mick thinks. His family knows you, and while you talk Mick cannot help himself but watch. The two of you sit so close, squeezed into the booth. Your hand lays next to your thighs, and Mick can almost touch it. He forgets about that fact for a moment when you talk to him, and he is pulled into a conversation about your childhood memories. He takes a sip from his beer and lets his hand fall on the bench. It touches yours for a second, and he doesn’t know what to do. Does he pull away? But then you link your pinky with his like some kind of promise and Mick leaves his hand there, tied to you by your pinkies and the longing in his heart.

You walk away with Gina next to you, over to the little stage to find the perfect karaoke song and Mick cannot help but watch after you. He is enchanted by you, and he wonders how you haven’t realized yet. When he finally tears his eyes away from you and that yellow summer dress, his parents grin at him. “So, what is going on between you and her?”, his father asks her, and Mick shakes his head. “She is still my best friend, dad. That’s never changed.” “Yes”, his mother says, “The only thing that changed are your feelings for her, am I right?” Mick doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. He knows that his mother is right, but he doesn’t know what to say to his dad. He doesn’t know what, if there is anything between the two of you, but he hopes there is. He looks up and your eyes are on him, and you smile and for a moment he is almost sure that there is something and he breaks out in a silly smile. His parents exchange a look and intertwine their fingers with one another.

Mick wins Formula Two on a bright, sunny Sunday in Sakhir. But you outshine the sun on this day, he thinks. Your smile is so bright Mick is sure your cheeks will hurt by the hand of the day. His right ear hurts a bit because you yelled into it, but he doesn’t mind. Winning Formula Two feels even better than winning Formula Three, especially because you are there this time. The occasion calls for celebration, everyone knows that. The team somehow manages to find a location where all of you fit. They buy drinks and snacks, and it is not something professional, but Mick think it is perfect the way it is. It is perfect because you are here, and you are laughing, and dancing and Mick could just spend the entire night watching you.

He is the star of the show, of today, but he feels like that should be you. He has won because you have inspired him to do better every single day since 2019, if he is honest maybe since the day, he met you for the first time. He talks to his dad and his mum and some other people when he sees that you are leaving for the balcony of the venue, so he excuses himself. His mother and his father are exchanging a knowing glance but spare him with a comment. He makes his way through the crowd, needing longer than he anticipates because people stop him to congratulate him. Eventually, he is able to join you on the otherwise empty balcony.

He just watches your back for a moment, and how the yellow dress you are wearing once again is gently swaying in the wind. He wants to go and talk to you, but the view is too pretty to pass up on. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me like a creep, or are you going to come here and give me a hug?” He laughs, slight embarrassment peeking through in the sound. When he walks over to you, he doesn’t need to see your face to know the wide grin you are currently wearing on your lips. He steps closer you and wraps his arms around your hips from behind. It is different than the other hugs you have shared all your life, it is more intimate, more real somehow. His heart is beating fast in his chest, and he is almost sure that you can feel it.

You place your hand on his arms, relaxing against his chest, snuggling impossible closer. “Are you enjoying your party, my champion?”, you say, and your words give him goosebumps – the good kind. My champion. He never wants you to call him anything else again if he is being honest. “Hm”, he hums in agreement, chin resting on your shoulder, “Even more because you are here.” The words he speaks are not above a whisper, because he is a bit afraid to say them out loud. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Mick. Since I first met you, I knew that you were destined for great things.”

Mick cannot help but laugh, and you turn around in his embrace. His arms are still around your waist, your arms are now behind his neck. He is close to you, has he ever been this close to you before? His laughter dies down, but he still grins from ear to ear. “I think the first time we met, we were like two years old, and you hit me on the head with a shovel.” You scoff, but Mick knows it is all playful. “I don’t remember that, but I am sure you deserved that”, you grin up at him, “Anyway, that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Because it is”, Mick says and rubs gentle circles on the fabric above your hipbones, “But most of my best memories are with you. Like that summer last year? I don’t think I have ever felt better than during that time with you.” You smile up at him, and Mick feels like you are impossibly closer now. “Do you remember? When we were eight?”, you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper, “You gave me a dandelion and you said that you will marry me one day, and to be honest… I always hoped that you wouldn’t break that promise.” Mick smiles, and it is soft. He looks down into your eyes and you take his breath away. “One day, I will keep true to that promise”, he says.

He kisses you now, and as he does, he realizes something. Firstly, you really do taste like lemons. And like sunshine and happiness and much, much more. Secondly, he realizes that in a world of billions of people, a life full of thousands who he almost definitely hadn’t met yet, you were his one person, and he was going to make sure that counted for something.