2hrsdelivery

[doux-amer]

Thinking about it, it's not that I was lonely or anything growing up. I had a lot of friends and people I had fun with and talked to a bunch, but due to the way I was brought up, I wasn't able to really deepen and nurture those friendships. It's something that's impacted me to this day and at one point in my life, I became aware that some friends were not as close as I told myself they were except one particular moment, this wasn't because they did anything shitty (and that shitty thing wasn't done out of malice or intent), but it's that thing when you're young and you call everyone your close friends and you grow up and you realize lol, no they're just friends! And that's okay!).

And then I learned to see relationships I had with people very objectively (for the most part! I'm only human) which helped me be a more balanced adult and why I don't particularly get upset that certain friendships fade. That's just part of life, and when you're an adult, it's even harder to maintain a certain intensity and intimacy in friendships and a certain amount of interaction. I don't know if this is weird to say, but I think that's why I get taken aback and it means a lot to me when I have to recalibrate my perspective on a relationship because a good friend actually values what we have more than I expected.

Obviously, this is uncomfortable and bemusing when you know for a fact that their perspective isn't accurate and they're implying there's an intimacy there that in fact isn't, but when it's someone you care about and they level up the friendship like that...I'm not explaining things right. It hasn't happened much tbh even if I obviously had and have friends who have appreciated and celebrated our friendships and that means a lot too, that you know where you stand and you never have to question it, but there are some friendships where you realize oh...I mean a lot to this person. Oh, this is how much I mean to them or they like me this much?

[kiwi-bitchez]

Like Magic

Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni

Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending

Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)

Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you. 

It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch. 

There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming. 

There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice. 

The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you. 

The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one. 

You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen. 

"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself." 

You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you. 

Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously. 

"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."

You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part. 

"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.

"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."

"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."

"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."

"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."

"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation. 

"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters. 

Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else. 

"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."

"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you. 

"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him. 

"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.

"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up. 

"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."

"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"

"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.  

"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"

'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.

Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now. 

"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie. 

He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop. 

"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.

"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen. 

"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here." 

You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them. 

"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."  

You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one. 

"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."

"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."

"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you. 

"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."

"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.

"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."

"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening. 

"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester. 

In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.

'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could." 

For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were. 

"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would. 

You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat. 

"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."

"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together? 

"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine. 

"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade. 

"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."

You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal." 

He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.

The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction. 

Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy. 

"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."

There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.

You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him. 

He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear. 

Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth. 

You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."

Fuck. 

Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you. 

"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in." 

His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.

When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you. 

You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before. 

"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."

Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel. 

There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl." 

You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten. 

Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright. 

"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced. 

You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable. 

With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-" 

He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.

"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes. 

You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say. 

"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.

"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so." 

"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."

"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water. 

"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."

"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.

"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits. 

"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards. 

You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed. 

You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken. 

You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened. 

Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked. 

What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends. 

You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options. 

"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing. 

"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish. 

"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.

"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out." 

"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie. 

"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice." 

A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.

You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over. 

You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.

He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence. 

“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense. 

You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules. 

You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem. 

Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile. 

That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment. 

“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.

“I was reading,” you continue to protest. 

“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”

You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor. 

Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later. 

After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you. 

As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities. 

Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them. 

“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-” 

You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?

To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him. 

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding. 

“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible. 

“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why. 

“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised. 

“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing. 

“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”

“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.

“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”

“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours. 

“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”

You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried. 

You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel. 

Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.

He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so. 

While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.

The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw. 

Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in. 

His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."

You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force. 

"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy. 

"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it." 

You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight. 

"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"

"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was. 

"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else." 

He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience. 

“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”

His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.

“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.” 

“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze. 

“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”

You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches. 

His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.

You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could. 

He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm. 

He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and  "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure. 

Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off. 

"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"

"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there. 

The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced. 

Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out. 

Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit. 

"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'

He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world. 

'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."

Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him. 

You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth. 

"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure. 

"Fuck, sorry," you pant out. 

"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."

"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."

A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock. 

"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.

"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."

"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."

He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly. 

"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"

You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you. 

"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it. 

"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"

"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue. 

"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head. 

"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right? 

After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass. 

"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work." 

You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."

"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you." 

With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size. 

It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry. 

You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you. 

"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well." 

You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head. 

"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself. 

"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."

He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you. 

"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."

"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts. 

"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."

The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure. 

"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it. 

"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right. 

The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body. 

You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt. 

"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. 

He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity. 

"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."

"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious. 

"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."

"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"

"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."

"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?" 

"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."

With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so. 

"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.

"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel. 

Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you. 

"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"

“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars. 

He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you. 

He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up. 

He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum. 

“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are. 

He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him. 

He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes. 

You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep. 

“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.

“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel. 

“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.” 

“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour. 

“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated. 

“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up  in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”

The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants. 

A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess. 

You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you. 

“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup. 

“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position. 

“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety. 

Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space. 

“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing. 

“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you. 

Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen. 

“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”

Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all. 

All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986

[thatgenericwriter]

THE BET || GREGORY HOUSE

Paring: Gregory House x gn! reader

Summary: reader is a mortician at the hospital and gets into a little bet with House

Warnings: House (no explanation needed) and some swearing

Word Count: 1.1k

P.S. based on the request by @ryoiii (I'm sorry this took me so long to do I'm trying my hardest)

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Life was pretty mundane at your new job as a mortician at Princeton Plainsboro's Teaching Hospital. Being new to the city and hoping for a fresh start was fine, but man was it boring. Just you alone with your thoughts down in the basement of a huge hospital.

Until one day you met House in the cafeteria. He was sitting with Wilson, the doctor that Cuddy had assigned to show you around on your first day. You two had grown close over the two weeks you had been there. You would hang out in his office when there was nothing for you to do. And you guys would have lunch together most days. You saw him as the only friend you had made so far.

So it was no surprise when he called you over to his table after you got your food.

"Hey y/n, come sit!" You smile at Wilson and make your way over, taking note of the grumpy looking man, whom you assumed was Wilson's friend Dr. Gregory House. Which was made certain when you saw his cane leaning against his chair.

"Wilson! Paying to have your "friends of the night" visit you at work? That's low even by my standards!" Wilson slaps House's shoulder and scolds him before turning to look at you apologetically.

"It's okay Willson. House is just jealous because he knows he will never be able to afford me." You revel in the questioning look on House's face and the shocked look on Wilson's as you sit down on the chair next to him.

You open your yogurt container and take a bite before looking between House and Wilson questioningly.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" House smirks at you while Wilson sighs loudly beside you.

"Great another House. Just what I needed." Wilson shakes his head solemnly from beside you as you lean back in your chair eyeing the man across from you. 'This is going to be fun.'

.........

Ever since your encounter with House in the cafeteria a few weeks ago, you two have become inseparable. Whenever you don't have a body to tend to in the morgue you're in House's office. His fellows have become accustomed to seeing you in House's yellow chair tossing his ball around or doodling on his whiteboard.

They have also come to learn that if House is nowhere to be found, he is most likely down in the morgue with you. Which is where they found him today. But instead of finding him in deep discussion with you, they walk in on the two of you fighting.

"You can not have one of the bodies! Especially not with the intention of shooting them in the fucking head!" You went along with all of House's stupid ideas (that's what made him fun), but this was crossing a line. A line that put your job on the chopping block.

House was acting like the man-child he is, actually stomping his foot at you and crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"But mommy please!" He had the audacity to stick his bottom lip out at you and that was your last straw. You look at him blankly and walk past him to the doors.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." You swiftly walk past his fellows who look at you with pity written all over their faces. You paid no mind to them and continued to the elevators. The last thing you saw before the doors slid closed was House staring at you with a look on his face that you'd never seen from him before. Remorse.

..........

That was about an hour ago. Now you are sprawled across Wilson's couch in his office chatting with him about the most random stuff. That was until the door slowly opened and House walked through.

You turn and face away from him not ready to talk to him quite yet. However, that didn't deter him from talking to you.

"I just came to say that I talked to Cuddy and made it known that anything I do should not affect your job. And that I will take responsibility for anything I do that involves the morgue." This was a surprise to you, and also to Wilson according to his face. When you still didn't turn to face House he continued.

"I also wanted to apologize to you for trying to make you do something you didn't want to get involved with." At this point, Wilson was sure he was having a stroke and you were sure that you had completely fallen for House.

You had been fighting the idea of having a crush on House since the very first week of being with him. Hearing about his lack of emotions and empathy for others strayed you away from pursuing a relationship with him. But after him taking responsibility for his actions and apologizing to you, how could you stay away?

You turn to him with the coldest look on your face that you could manage. "You think you can just come in here and give some half-ass apology and believe that I would forgive you just like that!"

You relish in the confused expression on Wilson's and House's faces before bursting out in laughter.

"Of course I forgive you ya goof!" You jump off of the couch and grab his hand pulling him out of the office.

"I bet ya his head explodes!" Slowing down to a speed that House can keep up with comfortably, you start to pull your hand away. House stops you, however, by interlocking his fingers with yours.

"I bet you he doesn't scream no matter what happens." House pushes the down button to call for the elevator with his cane before looking at you. You smile back at him and bump your hip with his slightly.

"That's not fair he's dead!" He smiles at you and bumps your hip back. The elevator dings and opens to reveal all of his fellows who walk out informing House that their "patient" is ready to be scanned. You watch as their jaws drop when they notice your intertwined hands.

You giggle and follow House into the elevator waving goodbye to his fellows as the doors slide shut.

"They are never going to stop talking about this." He looks at you and smirks.

"I guess I'm just going to have to hide out in the morgue more often. I wonder if there is someone alive in there to keep me company?" You smile at him pretending to ponder on his question.

"I think I know someone who works there that might be interesting to talk to." The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You pull House once again and start making your way to the MRI lab.

"Enough sappy stuff! Let's go kill a dead guy!" You look back at House and he just shakes his head at you affectionately.

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Author's Note: Guys im finaly done with school! (at least for the summer) and I'm planning on writing a lot more! please leave some asks and be patient with me as I am trying my best here😭😭😭

[unveranosinseb0514]

The Hill House - Prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader; Fernando Alonso x fem!reader; Mark Webber x fem!reader; Jenson Button x fem!reader.

Tw: Fluff, smut eventually, age gap (slightly big, reader's on her 20s), a little oc!everybody but some stuff are pretty accurate and don't ask me how I know, pet names, small talk about sexual experiences, maybe use of 'y/n' a few times, MINORS DNI!!!, that's it for now!

Words: 4.0K...or something like that

THH Masterlist

"Dad?!" I asked a little loudly, sitting on my bed with several clothes spread out, the open suitcase on my lap revealed what I was doing.

I always ended up fumbling with clothes, the room looked like a hurricane had passed through, but I decided to just ignored that fact and went back to folding the clothes, since i was little, I was completely clumsy with this kind of things, and we didn't even travel that much.

"Yes sweetie?!" I could hear my dad's voice, somewhat muffled because it was far away, coming from hus room which was diagonal to mine, on the other side of the hallway "What's wrong?"

"Do you know where I put-" I began to speak slowly, distracted, looking under the bed.

"Your slippers?" he asked as if he had suddenly read my mind. Couldn't help but laugh "Yeah...how did you know?"

"You always forget, and yesterday you gave them of to me and made sure I reminded you not to forget them...did you forgot that?" he appeared with an affectionate smile on his lips, offering the red slippers.

"What would I do without you? Thank you!" I thanked him lovingly, sending a dramatic kiss on the air as soon as I picked what he brought me, placing it inside the suitcase, happily.

We were going on vacation, stay for a month in the big house on the hill, it has been in my family for ages, Mediterranean style, it is beautiful in any season, specially the one's that were warm when the sun is up and cold when the sun is down, it's practically a cabin isolated from everything and everyone, brought a certain peace, and since my older brother left home, we never went there again, even though we liked it and had gotten used to it, we have great memories of my mother there, I shared the same feelings as my father and we didn't thought it was as fun with just two people, although we loved the company from one another. We became extremely close after my mom passed away and now we are like flesh and blood.

Right now, i was on summer vacation from college, my father saw this as the perfect opportunity to travel, he has worked with Formula One forever, all I remembered about when I was younger were cars running very fast, Ferrari's and several numbers on the screen that didn't make sense at the time. I became really interested for the first time when I was 16, and went for the first time with 17, but at 18 I was always there with my father, behind the scenes...well, the stock of tyres to be more accurate, the big screens full of numbers. I've always been a girl who's easy to communicate with and I make friends very easily, over the years, I ended up getting closer to some drivers and ex-driver, all of whom were good friends with my father and were incredibly nice to me, but I ended up taking a special liking to four of them.

"You can take the car" I heard my father's deep voice, immediately taking me out of my thoughts. "What?!" immediately surprised, my eyes widening slightly like two balls, he almost never let me drive his car, I walked quickly to where the tallest one was and placed the back of my hand on his forehead, as if I wanted to measure his temperature "are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, hon, I just won't be able to go with you, you know...duty calls me" the oldest said, letting out an awkward laugh, running his hand through the hair at the back of his neck, he already knew what I was going to say.

I was picking up my bags and placing them on the living room carpet when I heard, my shoulders drooping in a certain discouragement, having a slightly uncomfortable look on my face with the news, my father sometimes was up to his neck in work, it bothered me because we only had each other and from time to time it was a bit lonely, he always came home tired, exhausted, and that wasn't good for him either.

"Dad...again?! Weren't we on vacation?! You waited to take your vacations with me! So we could spend more time together" I said, more disappointed than angry.

"I know! but I promise it's quick, I'll sort it out soon, you won't even miss me and I know you'll be in good hands, I'll be there soon, it's a promise, and i don't want you to have to wait for me, okay?! Take my car" he said calmly and lightly, because it wasn't something easy to hear, he had an apologetic smile, because he knew it wasn't what i wanted to hear for sure, then he handed me the keys, which I accepted somewhat disappointed, even though I tried poorly to hide it, receiving a kiss on the top of my head to try to cheer me up, I grumbled, sighing immediately afterwards, couldn't get angry with him, I knew that If it wasn't something important, he would just ignore it, so i slowly looked at him and suddenly gave him a big hug to say goodbye...or at least farewell.

I actually went to the hill alone, listening to my music, distracting myself with the landscape, however, the only thing that cheered me up was seeing the boys on the moment I stepped out of the car, they all came to welcome me as if they could feel my arrival, and for a few hours, I actually forgot that my father was missing there, missed them so much that didn't even notice anything else. Fernando I could see more often because he's still active - and thank God he is - but the others are retired, Sebastian lives holed up in his beautiful house in the country he was born in, Mark and Jenson are too busy working at Sky, and the Brit is running again! Can't always travel to see them because I have college, so all thoughts about anything that wasn't here, went away, to make room for them.

"So...an actress huh? Don't forget us when you get famous, Darling" Jenson said as he let out a laugh, his accent present - as well as everyone else's -, sitting on the bench at the kitchen island, his first two fingers on the wing of the hot cup, it had a familiar and very subtle smell of peach, he was wearing light blue and plaid pajamas, the freckles drawing attention with the beam of sunlight that entered the kitchen and was almost on his face, it was an afternoon sun, orange, so it doesn't bother that much.

"this should be considered treason, i remember very well that you said you would be an engineer" Seb commented with a smile on his face, teasing me, his arms crossed while he was lying on the kitchen sofa that was glued to the wall, practically lying down as if he were in his bed, with the pillows stuck to his side, wearing comfortable red clothes, which highlights his blonde hair and beautiful piercing blue eyes, he always had a lovely smile too, which can quickly leave someone embarrassed.

"I didn't promised anything to anyone!" I commented laughing, adjusting myself on the sofa, next to Seb. Button agreed with me while the German said he was the biggest ass kisser to ever exist on earth, but that was his way of showing love... other than teasing someone.

"But what do you do there, exactly? What do you study?" Mark asked curiously, he was making something to eat and ended up getting his hands dirty like the beautiful disaster he is on the kitchen, he ended up picking up his already bitten apple from the counter with his mouth, making me smile, everything they did was absurdly...them. The Aussie wore an orange outfit that looked more like sportswear, the socks with flip-flops almost caught my attention more than his beautifully defined face with his beard that was already starting to grow, now noticing that maybe I liked them with a beard...it gave them a different look...

"What do you think she studies there you bloody Aussie?" Jenson asked laughing with an obvious tone.

"Hey, you don't need to be rude Jenson, the question was more specific, i understood" i said throwing one of the pillows in his direction, which he caught in the air with just one hand, boasting about his quick reflexes right after, showing off his muscles, which made me roll my eyes playfully but i didn't look too much, even though he wasn't in Formula One, he was still strong and didn't need him to catch me eyeing him and tease me for the next few days.

"shorup mate... I don' knom" the tall man said with some difficulty due to his busy mouth, shrugging and biting the apple stuck between his teeth, which fell on the counter as soon as the piece was torn off, he was only holding with his lips. "Nando, what did your ex-girlfriend do when she studied? One of them was an actress, right?" His Australian accent was present in the nickname he used for the Spanish driver, getting a bit distracted and distracting all of us before i could even think to answer

Fernando, who was entering the kitchen, stopped, holding the laces of his gray sweatpants, about to tie them as soon as they called his name, he looked at us slowly with a curious look, wanting to understand the reason for the question, he held the hem of his shirt with his mouth so he could see better what he was doing, giving us a few seconds to observe his slightly tanned abs, not so defined, but strong, which i immediately looked away, no matter how tempting it was, who did something so simple turn something so...hot like that? But I soon remembered that he's the Spanish, and he always had a reputation for showing off. I pretended to be interested in something else before i felt my face heating up any more, hoping they wouldn't notice the small faint of blush on my cheeks, but of course, someone noticed. While the boys talked, the German watched everyone, and without meaning to, we made eye contact as soon as i turned my face, the man just let a slow, sideways smile appear on his lips, realizing how embarrassed i was with so little, but he didn't say anything, as if he wanted to keep my reaction between us, he looked at everything and everyone so intensely from time to time that probably was able to leave me embarrassed more quickly than Fernando's body, however, after being caught, i quickly and a little panicked looked at my lap, he had something in his eyes that I couldn't decipher... but soon i convinced myself that it was just my mind playing games with me and i paid attention to the boys' discussion.

"Just because I dated an actress doesn't mean I know how it works" his voice carried an obvious tone as he opened the fridge after finishing tying his pants

"If not, by this point, Fernando would have learned absolutely everything, he dated a woman with every job, if you count all the women he's ever dated... my goodness" I joked, making the boys laugh and the oldest one sit next to me, ruffling my hair calmly as a 'payback' for the joke, soon i hit his hand only to stop what he was doing, still having fun with the situation as I straightened some tangled or misplaced strands.

"Jealous, cariño? You can be next if you want" he said in a low voice, worthy of a flirt, carrying a beautiful Spanish accent as he slowly moved my hair aside so that it was behind my shoulders, I quickly grabbed a pillow and hit him with it, he ended up laughing with the others after the small tension, this man had a very easy way to make me blush and I didn't need one more thing for them to provoke me, which we already did with each other quite frequently and without much effort.

I simply loved this kind of environment, it was a bit chaotic, funny, a real mess...but it's absolutely them...and it had been so long since I knew what it was like to truly laugh, it was so good to have them here next to me, even got a little lost in what they were talking about, talking loudly, joking, specially with the German and Spanish now taking part in the conversation even more, but my ear caught a word in the most inopportune way possible, I didn't even follow the rest of the sentence but it woke my curiosity, the word was "virgin"

"Wait, what?" I shook my head as if coming out of a trance, blinking a few times, looking curiously at the boys who stopped talking and just stared at me.

"Oh boy, I said that Mark had to be careful or else everyone would know he was a virgin until he got to Formula One" Jenson said letting out an amused laugh, which made my eyes widen. "Really?! Till Formula One? I thought that you, being in this field, would be faster with it, besides... you are men, let's face it, there is no being more desperate for sex than you all" I joked with a depth of truth, making them laugh together

"But you're kind of right, I lost at 16" the British said, adjusting himself in his chair and taking a sip of his tea as if he had said the most 'everyday' thing possible.

"I think mine was at 17" the youngest said, making a face while thinking a little

"Mine too" the blonde nodded

"I had chosen to wait, do you guys have a problem with that?" Mark said sarcastic, getting more laughs from us

"Jesus, you are all promiscuous" I took advantage of the fact that we were all laughing and made another joke that made them laugh even more, the atmosphere was nice, everybody having fun, Jenson on the verge of tears

"I didn't hear you saying your age, Lieb" Seb's voice suddenly came out, which ended up silencing the laughter slowly and making me the center of attention of the relaxed and casual men in front of me.

I simply stopped, feeling my cheeks inevitably heat up a little, they were staring with the most relaxed and curious look of all, but Sebastian, for a few seconds, seemed like he had brought this up on purpose, i wasn't expecting that kind of question, and he knew that. I cleared my throat, looking elsewhere, scratching the back of my head, thinking about the best way to answer that question and to buy myself a little time... would it be easier if I lied? Maybe being honest was the best case? I slowly parted my lips but only after a few seconds, they uttered a sound "Well I..."

"You can't say you don't remember" Fernando said, adjusting his position on the sofa next to me, paying attention to my answer.

"There's...no way...I can remember...what...I never did" my voice reached highs and lows due to shame, avoiding eye contact while speaking so slowly, but even so I could already feel the looks of shock in the agitated silence at this point, words slowly sinking in their brains.

"No, wait a minute, it's a lie, right?" Button asked with a smile, while i sigh, creating the courage to look at him and just shook my head, denying it. I had no idea why that sudden embarrassment by the fact that I was still a virgin, maybe because it was the first time I was talking out loud about it with other people, especially with them, but I was always a girl who was very resolved with that fact, but having them look at me like that, probably made me a little shy... did I really look like I was that "adventurous" in that department?

"Oh, come on guys? There's no shame in that..." I let a laugh with a slight blush on my cheeks, speaking more to myself than to them.

"Do you have any special motivation?" Seb asked curiously, adjusting himself on the sofa as if the topic had become more interesting, while my cheeks burn a little more. "W-Well... no, I just...never believed in that nonsense they put into girls' heads that they need to 'lose it with someone special', it takes away their sexual freedom... but... I never felt comfortable enough to be able to do anything other than kissing someone... I don't believe in the "special person" bullshit but it also doesn't mean I'm going to do it with just anyone, not everyone deserves it, anyway" explained calmly, didactic even, and at this point, i should've wanted to stick my head in a hole after sharing my intimate life in this way with 4 older men that I call 'friends' but... the vibe was comfortable, they made me comfortable, I felt like I could ramble on about this for hours and hours, plus as soon as I finished saying it, I received understanding looks, nods agreeing with me and relaxing smiles.

"It makes perfect sense and there's nothing wrong with that...but have you ever imagined it with someone?" the Brit man asked, as always, curious and attentive.

"Even if you considered the person unreachable" before I could respond, Nando said looking at me, but there was something...strange in his eyes, the question sounded a bit personal and the way he looked at me made me remain silent for a few seconds, analyzing his question, it was as if he knew something, Mark just nodded quickly to his friend's statement.

"Well, maybe...? it's not like I can control that kind of thing... Who i desire...but I don't remember who it was..." I replied, but I lied, remembering clearly every time I wished, even if it was for just 5 minutes, each of the men in this kitchen, I found myself wondering what it would be like to feel their touch, their kiss, their skin on mine... contemplating whether I would feel comfortable enough to lose my virginity with any of them if i ever get the chance... and the answer in these lustful daydreams was always the same: yes. I would never have the courage to tell them this and it's... a little unsettling to talk about it because at some point I could answer a question in the worst possible way and they could end up discovering this secret... Too afraid of ruining things between us to tell...of course it would ruin it, who would think it's normal to hear your friend's daughter admit that she has had sexual fantasies with you? In addition to the fact that it would feel awful to stay on the same room knowing that, and one of my worst nightmares was to end up loosing this bond that we have because of a confession of something that teenage y/n, full of raging hormones, felt and that...maybe they extended into adulthood...either way, it's a no. The silence became comfortable again, despite feeling that they were more curious about this subject, but decided not to dwell on it too much, they didn't want to overwhelm me, make me feel uncomfortable, so quickly i clear my throat and change the subject, which they follow, knowing that i had talked about my intimacy enough for today...and God, I have long weeks ahead with them...

A/n: be patient with the next chapters 🙏🏻 i'm writing as fast as i can! And the pictures aren't mine!

[suckerfordylansstuff]

Not a date - Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Dustin is certain you're dating someone. You, on the other hand, are not so sure.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: As you can see we're changing the style with this new post. You could consider this kind of a small prequel for "A date like no other", but mostly, I just wanted to write more of Dustin and Y/n's relationship (more will follow, inspiration has hit me). Plus, it was fun playing detective. Hope you enjoy! 💕

!This piece goes along my Steve Harrington series "New Journey", but can also be read as a standalone!

Timeline: After the winter dance, but before their first date.

“I have gathered you here today on an important issue.” Dustin was pacing around Mike's basement while all the rest of his friends followed him with their eyes “It is crucial that we take upon this matter with focus and determination. Not to mention stealthiness since a bit of spy work is going to occur.”

“Dustin, why are we here?” his dramatics had Max over the whole thing very quickly.

“It has come to my attention that my sister, my own blood, has been seeing someone behind my back and simultaneously lying to me about it.”

“And?” Lucas asked, not understanding his friend’s anger.

“What do you mean and? This is it!”

“You’re mad your sister has finally found someone?” Will was trying to understand Dustin’s motives.

“I’m mad she hasn’t told me about it. I mean, why would she do that? I certainly tell her everything.” his pacing hasn’t stopped from the moment he entered the basement.

“Maybe because she wants to focus on the new relationship and not on her little brother’s obnoxious opinions?” Max told him with a smile, making Dustin stop in his tracks.

“You’re new, you don’t get a say.” he pointed in her direction and continued his pattern on the floor.

“Dustin, what do you want us to do?” Mike sighed when he saw Dustin place large papers on top of a chair, opposite to them, a pen in his hand as he settled beside them. It reminded him of their teacher, and not in a good way.

“I want you to come with me and spy on her.” he removed his first blank paper, revealing a calendar with colorful dots on certain days “It all started a month ago. I realized she began going out a lot more than usual. I mean I love my sister, but let’s be honest, she doesn’t have many friends.” he pulled out another paper, this time a pie chart with all the colors they had previously seen on the calendar “So, I began tracking her behavior. When she would go out, when she would return, and try to figure out with whom. So far, I’ve noted 14 outings in the span of 29 days… She went out with Jonathan twice, once with Nancy, once with you, Max, and you, Eleven, for girl’s night. Three times with all of us and another three with me. That all makes 10. The other 4 are a mystery to me.” with each sentence, each ‘clue’, he was pointing the pen at every chart so the rest wouldn’t get lost

“When she hangs out with friends, I have noticed Y/n coming back at a decent hour, say around 10:30, at least 11:00. However, when she’s ‘on her own’ those hours defer.” the new paper showed the said hours with a big question mark at the end “I have caught her sneaking into the house well after 1:00 am! Clearly, she’s not out there on her own. But I haven’t been able to figure out with whom. I checked with both Nancy and Jonathan telling me that they had not seen her those specific days. She’s clearly with someone doing something, but when I ask her about what she did and where she went she outright lies to me, saying she was with Jonathan and/or Nancy.” he let the last paper fall flat on the chair, the pen rhythmically hitting his other palm “It is our mission to figure out who she is meeting on these days, so I can evaluate if I need to step in and help her.”

The kids all looked at one another, trying to see if they wanted in on this. His thinking could be correct, but the thought of him being wrong and giving them the chance to mess with him is what sealed the deal.

“Alright, we’re in.” Mike announced for all of them. Dustin’s face immediately lit up.

“But how do we know when their next meet-up is?” Lucas asked him.

“Already ahead of you my friend.” he began organizing the papers he had used, stacking them into his bag before putting it on “I overheard Y/n talk with my mother, saying she’s going out. Again, wouldn’t outright tell me with whom. So that’s why I came here, to find out if Nancy had any plans. As it turns out she did. But not with my sister, with Jonathan. Right?” his eyes fell on Will.

“Yeah, they are hanging out at ours.” Will confirmed Dustin’s words.

“Okay, so that excludes them from this ‘secret meet up’.” Max thought out loud.

“Precisely.” they were now getting out of the house from the basement’s door, making their way to their bikes.

“So… Where is she?” Eleven asked, her small voice was now loud enough for all to hear, turning their heads at once to look at Dustin.

Dustin wasn’t sure at the beginning where his sister would be. She had mentioned she would leave around 8:30. Now, he had left earlier to check on her small lie at the Wheeler’s, so their first stop was at his house to check if her car was still there. It was, which meant either of two things. She either walked to their meeting place (which was unlikely of her after everything that had happened to them, walking somewhere alone was a no-no for his sister). Or the person she was meeting picked her up. It left a lot of options open so he decided to head inside with the rest and look for more clues.

His mom greeted them, chatting a bit with the kids while Dustin looked around for any indication as to where she went. He noticed that her sneakers were missing, telling Dustin that they weren’t going somewhere fancy, so maybe their destination was the theater or maybe grabbing a bite somewhere.

“Hey, mom. I was thinking of eating the leftover pizza from last night after I come back. Y/n didn’t eat it, right?” he looked over at his mom, Tews on her lap as always.

“Oh, no, Dusty, she specifically said that she didn’t want to have anything since she’ll be going out to eat with her friends.”

Bingo.

Dustin excluded from the options list the diner where you used to work. Too many people knew you there and the secrecy wouldn’t last. So, they began roaming around the town trying to get a glimpse of you. They succeeded after a couple of tries. Lucas had caught a glimpse of your figure inside the burger place. You were sitting in a corner booth in the back of the store, your face bright, not only by the lights of the place but by your present company as well.

“Holy shit. Dustin was right.” Max climbed out of her bike, staring at the older sister of her new friend.

“Of course I was. Can you see who she is with?”

“No, his back is turned.” Lucas tried to wiggle around in an attempt to see who was with you. They couldn’t go  

We’re gonna have to get inside.” Mike noted and Dustin agreed.

“Not all of us, we’ll draw attention. Will, you’re coming with me.” the said boy wasted no time and followed his friend toward the entryway.

“Why him?” Mike called out, annoyed he wasn’t getting in on the action.

“Because he’ll be quiet, unlike you.” Dustin whisper-yelled.

They get inside and make their way to the end of the front counter. When they peaked at the back, they had a clearer shot at the two figures. Dustin could clearly see your big, bright smile, but the guy you were with was sitting opposite of you, meaning they could only see his back

“We still can’t see his face.”

“Wait… I know that hair.” Dustin’s eyes squinted as he focused on the person in question. The waiter had approached them, his lips moving, probably asking them if everything was okay. It was then when the mysterious guy turned his head, making him visible to him, a relieved sigh falling from his lips  “Oh, it’s just Steve.”

He and Will went outside without alerting you, joining the others once again.

“Okay, people, crisis averted. It was only Steve, just a friendly meet-up.” he announced to his friends before he grabbed his bike, ready to return home.

“Sure.” Max smirked his way, suddenly making a frown appear on Dustin’s face.

“Uh… Dustin? I don’t think this is very friend-like.” Mike was pointing to the restaurant. Dustin turned and met the horror. Steve had now switched his seat, joining you on your side. His arm was around your shoulders, your faces way too close for his liking. And then it happened. Steve kissed you.

Dustin was waiting for you to return back home. He was in the dark, his mother fast asleep, not realizing her own son was stewing hot. He was ready. Ready to tell you he knows your secret and ready to express his anger. He liked Steve, he didn’t like showing it, but he did. He was funny and honest with him, and a guy. He had a guy friend. Someone whom he could rely on when seeking advice. He knew he could come to you about everything, but sometimes he felt too embarrassed to say certain things. He was getting older, more ‘mature’ as his mother had said, and Steve had been through those things before, therefore could give him the advice he needed.

He liked Steve, but now he was afraid he was going to lose him… and you. You always wanted to be in a relationship and now that you were in one, you were going to spend all your time with each other, forgetting all about the party and mainly him. Or you would eventually break up and he would have to choose your side, his sister’s, and forcing him to say goodbye to his friend.

It all felt unacceptable to him, so he had to tell you about it.

Finally, he heard a car stop outside. After a couple of minutes, your keys were daggling as you opened the door. He watched you come inside, a lingering smile on your face as you took off your jacket and placed it on the hook beside the door. You were in the process of taking off your shoes when he decided to intervene.

“Hello, sister.”

He startled you, a small yelp coming from your lips as you squinted your eyes to see where your brother was hiding “Dustin? What are you doing in the dark? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he countered back, catching you by surprise

“What?”

“How was your night?”

“Oh… It was really fun actually, thanks for asking. But this still doesn’t answer my question as to what you’re still doing up.” your arms were now folded in front of your chest, thinking you had the upper hand here.

“Oh, I just had a simple question really. Who were you with?”

It took you a second to form your question, confusion rising inside you “What?”

“I was over at Mike’s today and I stumbled upon Nancy.” Dustin stood up from the armchair and walked closer to you as he explained “I asked her if she was on her way to come get you, but she told me she wasn’t meeting with you. She was actually going to meet up with Jonathan for a date at his place.”

“Oh…” was all that came from your lips.

“I know who you met tonight. I followed you and found out you are secretly dating Steve.” his finger was accusingly pointing at your figure. He didn’t know what reaction he was really expecting from you but it certainly wasn’t what you said next.

“I’m not dating him, Dustin.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re not dating.” you shrugged your shoulders and sat down on the couch.

“But he kissed you. I saw it!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, okay? It’s all very confusing.” your head your resting on top of your palms. You looked defeated, confused, sad, a whole different side of you than the one he had seen at the restaurant. He slowly approached you, sitting next to you. You looked up and saw him looking at you, a silent invitation to explain “It all started after we dropped you off at the ball. We happened to dance a little and it ended in a kiss. After that, we’ve been hanging out as much as we could and, yes, I admit, some kissing has gone down, but I don’t know what we are.”

Dustin noted that your voice was small but your feeling big “Do you like him?”

You looked up and locked eyes with your brother. You hadn’t been able to tell no one this, and you had no idea how much it was eating at you to get it out before this conversation “Very much.”

“Then I’m certain it will all work out.”

And just like that Dustin had forgotten all about his speech. He could still remember the way you smiled at him, thanking him with a big hug. It was the same smile when you picked up the phone, a couple of days later, Steve’s name falling from your lips. It was a soft one, your focus entirely on the voice coming from the phone, from his friend. When you finally hung up, a small shriek sounded all around the room. After just a moment he found out you were excited, beyond excited because he had asked you out on a date.

“Didn’t you go on one like yesterday?” he had asked.

“This is the first time he uses the word date, Dustin. The first time!”

He secretly smiled at your antics, even if in front of you he called it gross. When you returned home after that so-called ‘first date’, bliss was written all over your face. The next day, you all were meeting with the party for a campaign, the first time you would include Steve in your game. The first time he would see you two together officially for the first time. It was funny seeing him make all the wrong decisions and getting himself killed in the first thirty minutes. It was hilarious seeing you and him bicker about what you should do next. Steve making it his business to judge you all based on your actions. And it was certainly sweet when he would cheer with you after a successful roll. It didn’t seem all that different to him; your behavior.

It was after the campaign when Steve was talking his ear off on the way to their house about what movie you should see at the next movie night with the kids, that it truly hit him. Nothing would change. You would still be his sister and Steve would still be his friend. It couldn’t be that bad. Especially, if he saw his sister so happy every day.

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[daenerysstormreborn]

Time to ramble. I’m thinking about the way Arya and Sansa fans seem to get into this debate about who was more lonely and neglected in Winterfell. Which is kind of funny because then the arguments get totally reversed when debating other aspects of the characters. But anyway. The general arguments seem to be:

1. Arya was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because of her connection to Jon and the fact that she doesn’t look like her true born siblings. The more direct evidence comes from the way Sansa and Jeyne teased her, the harshness of Septa Mordane, and Catelyn’s exasperation. It can be inferred that Arya feels a sense of insecurity wrt to her family ties as she wonders if her own mother would want her back after everything that happened. It can be assumed that she was a bit of an outcast based on her disinterest in the things expected of her as a girl, and we see the way many characters look down upon non-conforming women and girls in-universe. Sansa, on the other hand, receives praise from her mother and the septa and has two named close friends in Winterfell. She happily conforms to what is expected of her as a highborn girl and we can assume she would fit in in Winterfell.

2. Sansa was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because she is the only one to lose her direwolf, which is the family symbol. The more direct evidence comes from contrast with Arya, whom Sansa observes can “make friends with anybody,” seemingly in contrast to herself. Ned agreed to kill Lady despite knowing she was innocent and indulged Arya’s interest in swordplay whilst being unenthusiastic about indulging Sansa’s interest in tourneys. Arya is demonstrated to be beloved by Ned’s men in a way we do not observe with Sansa. We can assume that Sansa didn’t feel like she belonged because of her interest in sothron culture, something none of her siblings share. Arya, on the other hand, is extroverted, makes friends easily, is northern in appearance, and has no interest in sothron culture, so we can assume she fit in in Winterfell.

I actually don’t think a lot of the points in the two arguments is mutually exclusive. We also have to remember POV bias. Arya doesn’t reflect on Any friends her age she had at Winterfell (I am not including Mycah because I am under the impression they became friends on the way to King’s Landing), but Arya is not one to reflect and reminisce. Sansa notices that Arya can make friends with anyone, but she doesn’t experience Arya’s inner world. What does Sansa mean by making friends? Does she see Arya having fun and being at ease talking to anyone and feel envy, since she herself feels like is performing, always minding her manners, when she’s socializing with most people? Could it be that Arya is friendly but struggles to find long term close friends like Jeyne and Beth, attributing this disparity to Sansa’s “ladylike” interests? Could it be that being teased by Sansa and her friends and scolded by Catelyn and Mordane has made Arya assume that other girls wouldn’t be interested in close friendship with her, causing her to be friendly but keep a certain distance? (**please note I am not trying to make a case for nlog Arya. I think keeping a distance because you assume you’ll be rejected is different and does not require that she looks down upon other girls, because there is no evidence for that here**)

I don’t have a good conclusion I just think it’s interesting that this is something that gets debated because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. We can’t know because we get very few flashbacks and the story picks up when their normal lives in Winterfell end. I can’t speak to George’s intentions but if we pretend they’re real people I’d speculate that both would have felt misplaced within Winterfell at times, envying certain traits about the other

[agroteraa]

Calling All My Lovelies

Felix Catton x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: AU where Saltburn's ending never happened. Felix lived happily up to 2017 (and on), where he happened to meet you. Meaning he is around 29-30 here.

Featuring the song "Calling All My Lovelies" by Bruno Mars

Also mentioning songs like "24K Magic" and "Too Good to Say Goodbye" by Bruno Mars, you can listen to them or even the whole "24K Magic" album for the right mood and atmosphere ❤️

Tags: fluffy angst, AU.

Warnings: mentions of sex, kinda?cheating, relationship misconception.

Word Count: 2,7K

Felix's London apartment was luxurious. Of course, it wasn't Saltburn, but there was a lot to see and be impressed by here too. Especially the view of the Thames, which was strewn on both sides with many lights of the most beautiful sights of the UK capital. Felix and all his guests found the lights especially bright in winter, as on this late February evening.

Especially the girls. Each of those whom he brought here stopped in awe at the huge panoramic windows and looked at the views almost from the height of the flight of a city bird. If before that they had somehow not been one hundred percent fascinated by Felix and his lifestyle, then this luxurious apartment was always the final charming argument.

Y/N was no exception.

When he brought you to his place after a fun evening full of alcohol, it seems that you looked at the views of the city more closely than anyone else and even managed to point out to him some new places from afar, which he did not pay much attention to or did not know what exactly these places were.

Felix smiled warmly - he would love to admire the view of the city with you, preferably standing in an embrace. But then he wasn't interested much of it back then, rather in something else. When he returned from the kitchen with a bottle of expensive alcohol and two glasses, you barely had time to taste the drink, as you merged again in a passionate kiss, which flowed into an even more passionate night. One of the best for both of you, and oh how he would like to repeat it.

But you weren't here right now.

There was no one but Felix himself, this evening was also full of alcohol, but there was little fun in it.

And all because you misunderstood each other. Very much.

When he brought you to his house from the club that day, he didn't think that you would take it all so seriously. Kate didn't take it in. Therefore, from her friend (or whoever you were to her, or maybe you didn't communicate that close? After all, if Felix had to think about it, it was the first time he saw you there with her��) he expected the same understanding.

You had a great time at the club, and then a night at Felix's apartment. Then you started to chat online a lot, went for a brunch and for a walk in the park, where you talked for a long, long time, cheerfully chatting about everything in the world. Well, except for discussing relationships. Then another night together, no less, if not more wonderful than that the previous one. Then another brunch. And after that… You had a lot of work and things to do, while Felix had a lot of free time and his own needs.

When you found out from Kate that he had slept with a couple of girls during that time (not with Kate herself, though they stopped sleeping not so long ago), you were crushed.

And she just shrugged her shoulders and said that you should have known or guessed that Felix lives in a free relationship mode.

You didn't know. Or you didn't want to know. And the main thing was that you thought that something special was going on between the two of you, you saw it in Felix's eyes, felt the distinct warmth of his touch and a certain special thrill overall. The way you talked to each other. It wasn't just sex or an empty mindless flirt, even if the beginning of your relationship was very fast and passionate. It was all felt even after two nights and many days, evenings and nights of mutual texting and calls.

Anyway, you didn't discuss otherwise. That was the whole point. And so, when, after things suddenly got clear, you received another usual message from Felix, you ignored it for a long time, unable to respond, being numb with pain, indignation and shame. You still was processing it and didn't believe to the end (that it would happened or that you were such a fool, you weren't sure yourself, probably both). Then, after a few more of his messages, you somehow pulled yourself together and answered all of them at once, quite briefly and dryly.

After some dialogue in this manner, Felix realized that there was clearly something wrong. He started asking what was the matter, to which you answered him:

"As if you don't know yourself."

"Explain?"

"I don't want to, I'm not in the mood to talk to you right now. If ever at all."

"???"

You didn't answer. Felix called. So, roughly in ten minutes of a phone conversation, you found out in raised tones that he "doesn't owe you anything nor didn't promise anything" that you "are fine as you are now, why complicate everything" and that "please, let's keep seeing each other, it doesn't mean anything special" was a real argument to him.

You shouted into the phone "No, if you don't want to complicate things, then I do, I'm sorry! More precisely, I wanted to. I thought we were serious.… Maybe... it seemed all... special. That's it, look, I... I don't want to talk any longer. And don't call me anymore, okay?"

And so, one day had passed, then two and three. And now the fourth day was already ending, turning into the fifth. You really didn't pick up the phone anymore and didn't respond to his messages, which were getting fewer and fewer every day.

But Felix had more and more thoughts in his head instead. He has almost passed all the stages of acceptance these days:

denial - "no, it's nothing, she's going to be mad a bit and come back to me";

anger - "not coming back? Well, fuck her!";

bargaining - "please, Y/N, answer my messages already...";

depression - "have I really lost touch with her forever?..".

Except for the acceptance itself, of course. And besides the fact that he was returning to all these stages randomly from time to time.

He really did not understand, he was not used to the fact that a girl could take a relationship with him that seriously, especially so immediately. Okay, these infatuations at school and even sometimes at university, when people fell head over heels in love with him, romanticizing him without really knowing him, but now? In the adult world, when everyone should understand the "rules of the game" and that no one seriously owes anyone anything until it is discussed. That was how Felix thought about it. And that was why it was so strange to him that it could hurt you so deeply.

He contemplated about it all the time and, to tell the truth, it even began to flatter him that someone could fall in love with him so much and take him that serious from the start. If he got everything correctly. Yes, at first it surprised him, then it worried him, then it flattered him, and after that... something inside him began to hurt unpleasantly?

He wasn't lying back then. These girl didn't mean a lot to him. But did this mean that Y/N did?..

His heart and mind began to fill with deep, complex feelings that he had not experienced for a long time and, to be honest, had not realized properly and processed in an adult way, being almost-thirty.

And Felix got scared. He was genuinely scared, that was why, first of all, he was pouring alcohol into himself all evening, inhaling lots of smoke as well.

And right now, he decided to brighten up his company not only with wine, champagne and cigarettes, but also with music. He chose Bruno Mars, whose new album he has listened to quite often since its release. Fancy stereo speakers filled his apartment with the loud sounds of "24K Magic".

Felix danced to the rhythm of the songs, sipping wine straight from the bottle. Now he tried to imagine that he was having fun in a club, and not alone in a dark empty apartment, and he almost succeeded in that.

That way Felix Catton decently lifted his mood along with the level of alcohol intoxication.

He skipped the song "Versace on the Floor" because he wasn't in the mood for slow romantic songs. But when "Calling All My Lovelies" started playing a little later, Felix was unable to switch it either.

He leaned back in one of the chairs, frowning and very intently listening through a decently tipsy consciousness to the lines of the song that had begun.

I got too many girls on hold for you to be so bold

Too many on my team for you to act so mean

"Oh, yeah. Exactly so," Felix thought.

You say you wanna go and have fun, well, you ain't the only one

If I ring, don't let it ring too long or I'm gone

"That's bloody right," he said aloud and nodded slightly several times, taking another sip of wine from the neck of the bottle.

I got Alicia waitin', Aisha waitin'

All the -eeshas waitin' on me

And also Stacey, Tracey, Macey, Lacey… Had he mentioned Tracey already? In general, all sorts of -aceys were waiting for him too, and not only them.

So why you contemplatin'? Playa hatin'?

If this is how it's gonna be

I'm callin' all my lovelies (Callin' all my lovelies)

'Cause I can't get a hold of you

At these words, Felix gripped the bottle so tightly that it almost broke under the force of his fingers squeezing it. It was definitely unpleasant for him to hear from Bruno Mars things that Felix was afraid to admit even to himself. He shook his head, closing his eyes. No, that was bullshit.

Since you ain't thinkin' of me (Since you ain't thinkin' of me)

Oh, look what you're makin' me do

Sharp breath. Closed eyes. Exhale.

Honey pie, I'm far too fly to be on standby

Sendin' me straight to voicemail, suga, what the hell? (What the hell?)

That was right! What the hell was all that? You ignored him too! How long had he been texting you and even calling you? Was that fair? Why should he run after you? He shouldn't.

Ooh, you ought to be ashamed, playin' these childish games

I don't get down like that, tell me where you're at, hit me back

Yes. Come and tell him that to his face. Oh, how he wanted you to be right in front of him now. Or didn't want to. No, he actually did. And not only to talk, getting things clear, but also to repeat the night like these… His imagination had already begun to draw pictures of how he would kiss you, undress you... and then… Your sensual moans echoed in his head. He almost felt your skin with his elictrified fingertips. And after that... no, no, stop.

Mmm, I got Alicia waitin', Aisha waitin'

All the -eeshas waitin' on me

"That's it, Bruno, you understand me, buddy! Felix mentally raised a bottle of wine as a toast and drank another sip to "them boys", to "free spirits".

So why you contemplatin'? Playa hatin'?

If this is how it's gonna be

He could have called any of the girls he mentally had listed. And everyone would come to him immediately or at least as soon as possible, doing everything Felix would have wished. Ha. How do you like that, Y/N?

But for some reason he didn't want to text to any of them, much less call them.

The only voice he wanted to hear right now was yours.

I'm callin' all my lovelies (Callin' all my lovelies)

'Cause I can't get a hold of you

Since you ain't thinkin' of me (Since you ain't thinkin' of me)

Oh, look what you're makin' me do

For the second time, he couldn't stand listening to these words. Abruptly and carelessly putting the bottle on the glass table and staggering decently, Felix wandered off to get his phone. It was time to call his not-even-ex-not-girlfriend. Catton-Jr. seemed to be listening to the dial tone more on purpose, just not to listen too closely to the words of the song that went on:

Pick up the phone, pick up the phone

'Cause all this lovin' needs a home, oh, yeah

Oh, no, look at what you started, baby

Now, I'm left here brokenhearted, baby

"Pick up the phone, yes, pick up the phone, come on," he repeated, tapping his foot. The phone dropped the call after a short time, and the guy dialed for the second, then the third time and…

There's a pain in my chest, I cannot explain

I told myself I wasn't gon' cry (Oh, not gonna cry, no, no)

But somebody's gotta come dry these eyes 'cause (Dry these, ah, 'cause)

The dial tone beeps continued. Felix studied London at night under their measured rhythm. His favorite activity was to peer at passing boats and ships of various sizes, models and speed, as well as trying to count their number. He often got distracted, but still loved it.

So, he didn't notice that the beeps from the real phone had flowed into the beeps from the song. In "Calling All My Lovelies" Bruno's imaginary crush was a famous actress. Her voice "responded" in lively yet sensual tone:

Hi, you've reached Halle Berry. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now

But if you leave your name and number, I'll get right back to you *mwah*

Damn... (Bruno Mars' voice hissed back with increasing echoes and annoyance).

At this point, Felix himself clenched his teeth and threw the phone on the floor out of anger. Fortunately, the carpet was soft enough for the phone to survive the fury of its owner and continue to function in case you suddenly wanted to respond.

I'm callin', callin', callin', callin' all my lovelies

'Cause I can't get a hold of you

Oh, since you ain't thinkin' of me (Since you ain't thinkin' of me, baby)

Look what you're makin' me do

Felix almost whimpered at the realization of what a fool he had been and what a stupid situation he was in right now. Where he led himself. Why couldn't you two just talk? Why couldn't he just tell it all at once, from the start? Maybe it would have been different otherwise now. Resting his forehead against the big window, he felt its pleasant coolness, but it could not cool down his burning resentment inside. Most of all, he did not like it when the blame for the current situation could not be shifted to anyone or anything else, and this pained him incredibly right now.

Pick up the phone, pick up the phone

'Cause all this lovin' needs a home, oh

He collapsed into a chair near the window, clutching its handles tightly and stretching his long legs. If only he would…

Felix inhaled and exhaled noisily, throwing his head back and taking a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter out of his shirt pocket. The fingers did not obey a little, as the hands of their owner were shaking slightly from nerves and alcohol intoxication. He growled slightly in irritation. When the guy was finally able to light a cigarette, he took a long drag on it.

Now he wasn't in the mood for energetic and carefree songs. He skipped "Finesse".

That was how the last song from the album started playing - "Too Good to Say Goodbye":

I've made mistakes

I could have treated you better

I let you get away

There goes my happily ever after

Tell me why, why can't we try and start again?

This can't be how our story ends…

Oh, please…

He really did miss you.

And he was not right.

He wanted to win you and your trust over again. He finally admitted it with all his heart to himself. He would try. Really.

If only you could…

The phone, thrown on the fluffy carpet, suddenly came to life and started vibrating.

Releasing all the smoke from his lungs, which Felix had inhaled, at once, he abruptly bent down to the carpet.

Your name appeared on the phone screen, gleaming brightly in the darkness.

[pomegranate-pen]

Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

-----

Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

 Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

 The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

 “uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

 After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

 Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

  After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s  okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

  “…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only  Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

 As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him. 

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead. 

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time. 

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

 For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one  of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

[multific]

The Yule Ball

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: With the Triwizard Tournament came the Yule Ball.

The Yule Ball, something that both excited and terrified you.

You were super excited to have a night which you can spend dancing and having fun with your friends.

Terrified because there will be a big dance and you were yet to find a partner. 

You felt like everyone already had someone they were going with. You caught some couples practising their dance.

And yet, there you were, alone. 

No one asked you to the Ball.

And you didn't know why.

But everyone else knew why.

They were waiting for Mattheo to ask you for the dance.

But nothing happened.

But Mattheo was dense. And so were you.

You two were barely even friends, you were friends with Theodore, it is how you met Mattheo.

You knew he was a troublemaker, but there is something about bad boys. Always the bad boys...

As the Ball began to near, you grew more and more nervous. You thought of asking a boy out yourself, but you were too shy to do so.

You knew you will go to the dance, that was for sure, you didn't just waste all your money on a dress that you aren't going to wear after all.

But, somehow no one seems to be interested in taking you.

It got to the point where you asked your friend if you smelled or looked ugly, to which you only received a laugh.

"Guys are not asking you, because everyone knows that you should go with a certain someone." this surprised you.

"Who?!"

"Oh, you will know."

But you didn't.

You had no clue at all who she was talking about.

The next day, you found yourself going to the next Quidditch match. Grabbing some snacks, you were about to head up to your seat when someone called out your name.

You turned and saw Mattheo in his Quidditch attire with his broom in his hand walking over to you. He stopped not far from you and smirked.

"Y/N, if I win, you come to the dance with me!" your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"O-Of course!"

"Good!" he smiled, such a sweet smile before he walked away. It all happened so fast, after about ten minutes you debated if it really happened in the first place.

You sat down next to your friend to whom you told everything.

"Finally! Basically the entire school was waiting for him to ask you!"

"What?!"

"Draco even told him that if Mattheo won't ask you, he will."

"What? Why?"

"Mattheo obviously likes you, duh!"

"Duh?"

"And you like him, right?" your eyes left her moving to the boy in question who was the seeker for Slytherin. He was focused and very skilled in flying.

"I thi-I do."

"Now you have the perfect dress and the perfect boy!" she giggled, clapping his hands. "I can't wait to see his face when you walk in with that gorgeous dress."

Your eyes never left Mattheo for the entire match. 

Slytherin played against Ravenclaw. 

You smiled as everything turned green.

Slytherin won. Mattheo held the golden snitch, smiling directly at you. You offered him a smile back. 

---

On the day of the Ball you were both excited and nervous.

You didn't know what to expect.

It ran through your head a couple times that Mattheo was possibly joking or pranking you. 

But he wouldn't be so cruel, would he?

No.

Yes?

Maybe?

No.

He looked serious.

And if what your friend told you is true, he wouldn't be pranking you.

Right?

You let out a long sigh as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You absolutely adored the dress you were wearing. 

Such a simple yet amazing dress. 

You even managed to do your hair perfectly.

"Y/N! Your knight in shining armour is waiting! Let's goooo!" your friend yelled from your door as she came in.

"Do I look okay?"

"OKAY? Do you look OKAY?! You look stunning! Mattheo will be a fool if he at least doesn't kiss you!" 

"Please stop joking around!"

"I'm not! He will be amazed! I'm telling you! Now, let's go!" she grabbed your arm as she lead you out of your room down the stairs towards the Ball room.

You felt your heart hammer in your chest as she let go of your arm and headed down, giving you a wink before running towards her boyfriend. 

You took one last deep breath before stepping out. You immediately saw Mattheo but his back was towards you, he was talking to your friend and Theodore. Theo then pointed at you which made Mattheo turn and your eyes met.

You were already halfway down the stairs when you offered him a smile.

His hand reached out and you took it immediately.

"You look..." he looked you up and down, and when he didn't find the right word, you let out a small giggle.

"Thank you, you look really good as well." you smiled as he lead you into the great hall. 

He was a surprisingly good dancer. You certainly didn't expect him to be able to twirl you the way he did.

He had the choreography down to a tea. It was certainly a pleasant surprise.

You wondered if he practised so he wouldn't disappoint you.

And you were not disappointed.

"I'll grab us some drinks." he said as you walked to your friend. 

"I see Mr Riddle is quite the dancer." she said.

"Right? I didn't expect it for sure." you said as she laughed.

"He is completely obsessed with you." she whispered and soon, Mattheo appeared next to you handing you a cup.

You two danced a lot.

Soon the songs changed to slower ones and you were delighted by the way he was holding you. His hand was so gentle around your waist as he held you to his chest. 

"I'm happy you asked me to come with you." you said and he looked down at you, you noticed the scar on his nose now.

"I'm happy I won that match so you would come with me."

"I would have even if you asked."

"You are... just amazing." he said letting out a sigh.

"And you are bad for me." he smirked.

"Oh, but you love it, Babe."

"I sure do." you smiled as he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

"I can't promise I won't get into fights. I can't promise you won't see me bloody and beaten. But I can promise that I will try and be the best boyfriend."

"Who can say no to that?" you smirked.

He nodded before moving you, swaying to the slow music which played.

You very well knew who he was. Mattheo liked to get into fights. Possibly too many fights.

You swore you saw him with blood on his face, or clothes more than you saw him without.

He was bad for you.

But you would be damned if you wouldn't at least try. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie

~Masterlist~

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[oleanderscorner]

Fallen Sapphire Tears (Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine)

My last little post got me thinking…who else would share?

Then I decided I can force people to share for the fun of it! I figured it’d be interesting to see the striking balance between Sunday and Aventurine—both so vastly different characters, and figured out they’d fit one soul quite nicely—so, enjoy!

Spoilers for the new 2.2 quest up ahead and general yandere content trigger warnings! Oh and pregnancy allusions.

Aventurine and Sunday would both enjoy a justice-oriented darling—not just any justice either, but lawful and distinct justice, the kind casts away nuance in favor of the black and white stance and hope.

Aventurine obviously notices you first in this sweet dream and wishes to indulge you in a wager—it only gets him more antsy when you decline on principle, a wager so large means either he’s an addict, or can surely win, right? So what point would there be in playing…

He stands still in that answer—certainly not the first time he’s heard a no or been called an addict but it’s the first he’s been called an addict while saying no. In your eyes, too, it seems like you vaguely care about the former. He laughs it off then.

But continues to think heavily.

When you come back—it only intrigues him more.

Too bad he has to take a quick curtain call.

Sunday met you after, much later once you and Aventurine become close acquaintances almost friends. He notices your looks first—beauty to him, not in how orderly you look per se but…in how your clothes all fit a distinct role and place, how the style of your hair even if not particularly styled balances out this order of roles. Even disheveled homeless men have a certain look to them determined by the roles of their clothes—and you encompass that to him.

It kept his eye on you enough so that when you chose your answers…when you spoke of justice behind your choice in every section. To save a bird is just, to let the law catch a man willing to send his own children whom we don’t even know exist, and to support his dear sister despite him not..it all was quite eye opening to him on the justice his order needed.

He wouldn’t kidnap you immediately only because he would take great care in making your cage—only to then find Aventurine having found you and offering you to leave this place.

They should have killed eachother right then and there—but somehow, a word became a conversation and they came to an agreement.

Of course, they would keep you in the cage together—Aventurine could find and exploit every weakness in the cage crafted to before you had the chance to, and hide information about you from anyone else who would ask. Sunday keeps the cage crafted and gives instruction as needed. Even if it means a bitter false defeat to keep a hidden you.

Aventurine spends most days with you—when he isn’t working you two play games, even if you don’t want to he still tries to play with you, and he often orders take out—can even do a little cooking if you ask. He’s almost moldable—doing as you ask as long as it isn’t escaping related or not keeping an eye on you.

Sunday spends nights with you—sometimes there’s idle chatter with a dinner or late night snack and conversation of the world—but oftentimes it’s silent cuddling as he holds you. Perhaps even Aventurine too if that’s what it took to hold you.

Everything quickly becomes boring and mundane with them—and they know how to keep it that way.

You have a list of small chores while housekeeping does the rest, which is a light dust in some areas and tidying up basic things. It’s so domestic that it almost feels like you’re a rich housewife without a care to actually clean…

Funnily enough, being the last of a kind is gettting to Aventurine and of course Sunday is rather…family-oriented.

Perhaps it is time for another discussion.

AN: Ik it’s short and scattered but I’m thinking of writing like an actual fic for this one so it’s going to stay like this for now.

[lambiewrites]

Letter To Santa

TaskForce 141 x Child!GN!Reader

Warnings: none, be prepared for teeth rotting, sweet fluff. We believe in Santa on this page. This is primarily center around our dear Capt. Price because seeing him as a father figure would cure my woes. This is not proof read and I just woke up so have fun ❄️🎶🎄

Word Count: 1.29K

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The stocking were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St.Nicholas soon would be there.

Little hands eagerly worked at a red pen and delicate paper, smoothing out wrinkles. Fingers grazed papyrus with ease and little barefeet barely brushed against the cold floor. Brows knitted in concentration as the wee babe bite their tongue in thought.

“How do you spell Santa?”

The sweet voice echoed through the barrack walls quite the contrast of its usual interior.

“S-A-N-T-A. Here little one, I’ll write it down for you.” The gruff voice bent down with a crack of his spine before letters curled one by one to spell the jolly fat man’s name.

“And how do you spell Christmas?”

A gruff sigh came from the man’s beard lips as he spelt out the words CHRISTMAS in extra large font for the babe.

Captain Price was a man well into his years, beaten and broken down from multiple years of war and hardship but, somehow or another you wiggled your way into his heart. He most certainly thought of you as his own and cared for you like such.

Calloused hands tending to your every need such as tying your shoes, reaching top shelves, teaching you sight words and so on and so forth.

“Kid, what are they teaching you in school? Do I have to spell everything for you?” He teased, running large calloused digits though H/C hair, ruffling it a bit but quickly slicking down its strands back in place.

“Could you write my letter? Please? I’ll tell you everything you need to write!?” Eager pleads filled the air and brought about the rest of the men to seek out your woes.

“Just this once! And I won’t ask for anything else!”

A half snort left the masked lips of our dearest stoic, balaclava covered “friend”. Deep voice for a large man indeed. A bit scary but, you were never scared of the one in which they call “Ghost”. Oh no, quite the opposite. You played with him, hugged him, snuggled up to him, had breakfast with him, much like everyone else who you had wrapped around your little tiny fingers.

“I find that rather hard to believe,love” He stated rather promptly, leaning back against a rickety chair, stretching his limbs out a bit.

“It’s true! I promise! And I can’t lie because Santa is watching AND, unlike some people-“ You shot glares at Ghost and Soap, Soap whom shot you a half innocent look back as if he had no idea what you were even rambling about. Ghost, if at all possible rolled his eyes beneath the mask at your little rambling. At least Gaz was safe from your rambles and tales of the “naughty and nice list.” You were certain your name and Gaz’s name was on the nice list, and maybe Price’s, but Ghost and Soap’s? Absolutely not!

“I’m gonna be on Santa’s nice list so I can get lots and lots of presents. So I can’t lie. Just, someone please write my Santa letter for me!? That’s all I ask! Please!? Pretty please?! Pretty please with sugar on top?!”

Little hands clasped together eagerly begging and pleading for your letter to be written, feet bounced from one heel to the next, little E/C eyes looked up to the men round, full of light and wonder but pupils wide and begging almost like a puppy who wanted a treat.

“Tch, fine. Only this once. Got it? Now, come here, little one. I’ll see to it that your letter is written and fit for Santa.” Captain Price patted his knee and you eagerly abided, settled atop his knee as if he were Santa himself. Come to think of it, if he had a longer, white beard and was a little fatter and more jollier, he could be Santa. You giggled in thought, earning a brow raise from Price before he carefully held you steady.

The hand that was holding you, held that same bright red ink pen gently against the notebook paper that you had originally used to write your own, little letter.

“Ready Captain? I gotta big list of things to write and say. Think you can keep up?” You teased the old Captain though you did this quite often and found joy in joking about his age. Though, the Captain wasn’t that old. He was in his late 30’s, early 40’s but, to you he was ancient.

“Take your best shot, kiddo.”

He chuckled before the tip of the red pen pressed against the crinkled paper, whereas you rambled on about your list, Price was lightly writing out as followed:

Dear Santa,

I have been really good this year. I have done all of my chores without complaining and been on my best behavior. For Christmas this year I want (insert toy list here) and for my “pretend” family to get everything they want Christmas. Oh! And I want them to be able to go home and spend Christmas with the people they love. Because that’s what Christmas is all about. Family and love.

P.S. Can you please get my Uncle Ghost a boyfriend/girlfriend. Thanks. He’s really lonely.

“Is that good?” You asked the Captain with a small tilt of your head, holding up the crinkled paper reading over each and every sentence you made Price write.

“Men, Do me the honor of looking over their letter. Tell me, is it Santa Clause worthy?” Price held the crinkled paper up for Ghost, Soap and Gaz to look over.

Gaz was the first to read it, chocolate hues scanning the paper over and over again with a small chuckle at the last sentence. A hand went over to tuck strands of H/C behind your ears and compliment your work, though Price wrote you you worded it.

Soap was next and as azure blue eyes looked over the paper he chuckled whole heartedly.

“Ya really are doin’ poor L.T. a favor here aren’t ya lass/lad?” Soap chuckled wholeheartedly before Ghost snatched the paper from the Scotsman.

“Johnny what’re you laughing at-“

He breathed in a heavy sigh at the last little sentence you had, had Price write.

“Bloody hell…”

He grumbled, large digits pinching the bridge of nose through mask and balaclava.

“It’s funny.”

You giggled, peering over Price’s tired shoulders to see Ghost’s reaction.

“Aye lass/lad, it’s also Santa worthy.” Soap got in another chuckle before snatching the crinkle red written letter back from Ghost and letting Price read over it one more time, before sealing it up into an envelope, licking it shut and sticking a little stamp on it.

“Say, Y/N? Do you know what Santa’s address is?” The Captain arched a brow at you as you seemed to be falling somewhat sleep in his gentle hold.

“Uh uh. But I bet it’s on your maps. Somewhere. You got lots of them. You can find it, I believe in you.”

You chuckled in a half sleepy manner, leaning back against Price’s broad chest, H/C and H/L falling over your tired features.

Price turned your body, so you were tucked tightly into his arms gently moving strands of hair out of your face. He thought for a moment at your little request and a subtle hum came from him.

In a hushed tone he whispered a simple,

“Don’t worry little lamb, St.Nicholas will get your letter, my men and I will make sure of it. “

He pressed a soft kiss against the crown of your head before letting you slumber and dream in his arms. He fetched the other men to quickly find Santa’s address for your silly, one of a kind letter.

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A/N: I suck at accents and writing but, my brain has been turned off recently because ya girl graduated last Saturday and I threw everything I've ever known out the window haha. I love writing fluff and I will die on that hill. This idea also came to me from a couple of AI chat roleplays and simply, well Christmas spirit. I know the gang is probably ooc and I sincerely apologize for that. I will get better, trust me! Reqs are open forever and always! Reblogs are def appreciated!

[ploppythespaceship]

Please Watch My Adventures with Superman

This show is just so delightful and manages to capture the essence of Superman in a way a lot of adaptations just don't quite get. If you've ever been curious about Superman, if you've ever felt Superman is too boring for you, or you just enjoy a fun superhero story, I highly recommend checking this series out.

The first season has ten episodes, and the second season has just aired its third episode. In the US, it's available on Adult Swim and Max.

What It's About

If you aren't familiar with Superman, he's an alien -- the last survivor of planet Krypton, sent to Earth as an infant where he was found and raised as Clark Kent. Being an alien, he has extraordinary powers which he uses to lead a double life as a hero. This show focuses on a core trio of Clark, his girlfriend Lois, and their friend Jimmy, all of whom work at the Daily Planet newspaper.

Clark Kent / Superman

One of the main reasons this show works is it understands that Clark is Clark, first and foremost, and Superman is his disguise. Clark is a big friendly nerd. He's a huge sweetheart who cares so deeply about the people around him and the planet that adopted him.

This version of Clark is starting out very young (early 20s), so a lot of this story is about him just figuring things out. He's gradually learning the truth about his origins, the extent of his powers, and how best to be a hero -- all while grappling with the fact that he isn't human and his people of origin may in fact be a massive threat to Earth.

Clark is voiced by Jack Quaid, which you might not expect to work well, but he honestly nails it.

Lois Lane

Lois is loud. She's ambitious. She's intelligent and quick-witted. She doesn't take no for an answer. She has jumped off a building to prove her point -- twice. She is an unstoppable force of nature, and this show refuses to dumb any of those traits down.

But above all, she's kind. She wants to use everything she can do to help people. Her relationship with Clark is also everything you could ever want from a Clois dynamic.

This version of Lois is Korean-American, and voiced by Alice Lee, who does a phenomenal job.

Jimmy Olsen

Jimmy is Clark's best friend and roommate. This version portrays him as a supernatural/paranormal vlogger, running a web series called Flamebird. He's easily excitable, very passionate, as well as one of the most dedicated friends you could ask for.

Following in the footsteps of several previous iterations of the character, this version of Jimmy is African-America. He's voiced by Ishmael Sahid, who's just perfect in the part.

Why It's Great

The characters are all fun and interesting in their own right, while also having a great dynamic with each other -- as duos and as a full trio. And because the characters are shown as being very young and just starting out, they're very relatable. Additionally, every character feels very true to the spirit of their comics counterpart, despite taking a lot of liberties with the specifics.

There's a great cast of villains so far -- Livewire, Task Force X, Mxyzptlk, Parasite, Silver Banshee, and plenty of others that I don't want to spoil. They've also been teasing some really interesting stuff for the Kryptonians, which is noticeably different from any previous adaptations I'm familiar with.

The show is very anime-inspired, giving it a distinct flavor from other Superman adaptations. The creators are clearly having a ton of fun with it. Classic Superman villain Mxyzptlk, who's typically shown as an imp, now looks like he just walked out of a Dragon Ball episode, in an episode called "Kiss Kiss Fall In Portal."

It's also the same animation studio as The Legend of Korra and Voltron: Legendary Defender, who do excellent work. The character designs are unique while still fitting the characters perfectly. I particular love Clark and Superman's designs -- they've struck a balance between making sure he's big and muscular while also retaining a certain softness to his appearance. The fight scenes are fluid and dynamic. It all just works.

[sebaztianlovesgeek]

Why I don't like the trans woman Vil headcanon

You probably saw my repost of another person talking about this but I wanted to rant about it by myself so here we go.

Before you start calling me transphobic, I'm not angry BECAUSE he's being headcanoned as trans (I actually headcanon him as trans myself, but as a trans man) and at the end of the day he's just a fictional character and it doesn't really matter so do whatever the hell you want.

That being said, a huge part of Vil's characters is not liking gender roles/stereotypes

This scene with him and Epel speaks for itself:

Why is this a problem? Well the main reason I'm seeing a lot of people headcanon him as a trans woman is because he is feminine-

My reaction:

Ah yes because feminine men totally cannot exist! They HAVE to be a trans woman! Same with tomboys they have to be trans men! Oh my god-

I want to clarify I'm not blaming trans people for this, in fact I've seen mainly trans people in the twst wonderland fandom call this out and mainly non trans people headcanon Vil as a trans woman.

To be fair, a lot of trans people started out as masculine "women" or feminine "men" before they realised they were trans, but that doesn't mean ALL feminine and masculine men and women are trans (or at least not transitioning to be the opposite gender I have met plenty of masculine trans women and feminine trans men)

Like the post I reposted said, if Vil truly WERE a trans woman, s/he'd probably be a tomboy, because a huge part of Vil's character IS 👏🏻BREAKING 👏🏻GENDER 👏🏻ROLES!

A lot of the trans male friends I have who also like Twisted Wonderland look up to Vil, because they want to break male gender roles and pass enough to be seen as a feminine guy and not a woman (what I mean by that is when trans men are feminine and like wearing dresses and stuff they are often a bit too afraid to do it due to social dysphoria and being misgendered so they usually wait until they begin passing more to wear/do more feminine things, its sad)

So when said trans male friends see the other twisted wonderland say Vil HAS TO BE A WOMAN just because he's feminine it makes them upset, they think they aren't "trans enough" and that to be a "true man" they must conform to male gender roles so they can be "trans enough"

The same goes with female characters who are masculine, trans women who are tomboys could be happy that a woman in media they watch is more masculine like them, but when people start headcanoning said woman as a trans man, it could make the trans women upset

I'm not saying headcanoning certain characters as trans is a bad thing, do whatever the hell you want, I'm not the type to get angry over fictional fun, I scoff at people wishing death upon proshippers because yeah its gross but at the end of the day its just fiction and the person behind it are often just a weird pre teen, I barely even make "call out posts" about these types of fandom stuff but subjects like being transgender often hit home for me because I have many trans friends and a few trans relatives whom I worry about because I know dysphoria can often make people think unhealthy and suicidal thoughts, so I'm just concerned about the harm certain headcanons could cause

[marengogo]

UGH!-10: It's Too Early For This Shit

Nuts - by RM  [Right Place, Wrong Person]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I’d share what I am listening to while writing this]

���🐺–🐺–🐺–

⚠️ super angry post ahead ⚠️

I've just opened the blue bird App and I'm already done for the day.

"the travel show should've been these two. I'm very fond of their dynamic", "so true. It would've been more interesting more fun and less drama", "Heavy on the less drama. We'd also be having discussions too, the way we are massively ignoring the current one is sending me-", "ikrrr😭😭 also actual and long conversations between them" ...

Is it so fucking hard to just not give into the people you swear on your life you are "protecting your fave" from? Is it so hard respecting your faves decisions? Is it so hard to ... I dunno ... express your frustration without having to shit on someone else who has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING?

So you are frustrated that 🐰solos, 🐻solos, and 🐰🐻ers are in 🐥's business as always? Okay. AND? That should never stop you from watching the show your fave worked so hard on! You support your fave, you show him that his will, wishes and opinions do matter and YOU REPORT THE MOTHERFUCKERS, YOU IGNORE THE MOTHERFUCKERS, AND YOU MOVE THE FUCK ON, FFS!

It is really as simple as that.

KPOPPIES and their mamas have been against 875 since time immemorial, yet here we are, supporting them because supposedly we think they are worth our support and them pursing their dreams. Imagine going "I wish 875 disbanded because we have to report antis everyday" ... in 2024? on the Blue Bird App? Really now?? Where've you been Fam?! On Blue Bird Dot Com IT BE LIKE THAT. In K-MEDIA it be like that. In The Streets of the World with ignorant people It be Like THAT!!

Being AMI is not easy. It is frustrating many a time, it is angering many a time, it is downright aggravating many a time, but you'll never see me disrespect ANY of the members because other people in the world are dickheads. NO BRO.

You sad? Stay off SM for a day or two. You mad? Bitch with your friends offline, rant on a post, and/or start boxing, I dunno! But whatever it is ALWAYS 👏🏾 AIM 👏🏾 YOUR 👏🏾 RAGE 👏🏾 AT 👏🏾 THE 👏🏾 RIGHT 👏🏾 TARGET 👏🏾 .

Certain people resorting to hate 🐥 and viceversa IS NEVER going to be 🐰's fault and viceversa .

🐥 loves all his hyungs, and arguably 🐿️ is the one he is closest to. But he also loves all "his" maknaes, and you don't have to believe he is even close to 🐰 but YOU WILL RESPECT the fact that for a good 7 years at the very least ever since GCF Tokyo came to be, both 🐥 and 🐰 seem to really not give TWO FLYING FUCKS about what any of us have to say about the time they choose to spend together. So much so that, not only did they do a whole show together, but where and with whom are they now? 🦻🏾 ...

Yes. I thought so.

Also more interesting more fun ... actual and long conversations you are just a hating hoe for that. Two people not being chatterboxes doesn't mean there is anything wrong with tem. Not your cup of tea? Move on alone, no need to shit on it. Sure 🐥🐿️ may have a more "marketable" dynamic from 🐥🐰 but maybe, just maybe, 🐥 wasn't completely aiming at entertaining, in fact on multiple occasions they even said they weren't sure if this would air at all, but they weren't bothered.

In fact, if you ask me, this particular show aired because it wasn't like every other show so hellbent on trying to entertain. It aired because this were two people who actually ended up entertaining while constantly reminding themselves that they had to, and mainly failing to do so. So fuck you wholeheartedly.

If any of the other members want to have their show I'll be up for any pairing, any trio, etc and it will be just as special and interesting in its own way. If it ends up being shit ... I can assure you it will probably not air which would be a shame because i would watch anything my boys want to show us.

Just, it would be great if for once, some people could stop the hate-comparison and try the appreciation-despite, it goes a long way, and for the looks of it, 🐥 & 🐰 are not going to stop until their 50 so ... yeah.

I'm so fucking angry obviously,

Marengo.

PS - If anyone tries to come at me saying that I hate 🐥🐿️ I'LL END YOU.

[ukiyowi]

December Snapshot 🌷

Note: Happy December Babes!! A small glimpse into what you're December will be like 💞 if you like it please reblog, it really helps and if you want a paid reading hmu! It's all 30% off all December! And if you book before 5th December it'll be 40% off!!

Read left to right 1/2 then 3/4 🌸

Masterlist || Paid Readings || Tip 🍯

🍯 Pile 1

Okay so your December is going to start off very well but you may have some bumps in the road, lets talk about that. You will see your finances improve in December and will find yourself in a position where you are able to help not only yourself but possibly family members and friends who need monetary help as well, you may also get a raise or a promotion or a boss/person in authority under whom you work could put in a few good words for you to the higher ups leading to you getting more opportunities.

This December is all about reaping what you have already sowed and worked hard for. You will find yourself being a great communicator and in harmony in your interpersonal relationships, especially romantic ones, if you do not have someone already, a potential romantic partner may be entering or has entered your life who will be pursuing you, this person could possibly have strong Aries/fire energy and be someone who has a very infectious laugh and possibly freckles as well, they could be very outgoing.

Now onto the bumps, so December is going to do for you which you have not done for yourself so far, very cleaning much in the spirit of cleaning your energy and weeding out people you do not need or who do not have your best interest at heart. You may have been ignoring the flaws in certain relationships not wanting them to fall apart, as well as ignoring a certain opportunity you may be too scared to take, this is related to music or art heavily, and this December the universe will kinda thrust these things upon you and you may find yourself as well as certain people around you heartbroken nearing the end of this month as you prepare for the new year.

🍯 Pile 2

Hello pile 2, a lot of soul-searching comes your way this December, you will be trying to bring back the spark you think you have lost over the years because you have grown up, but people will not make this easy for you trust me. There may be people around you who discourage you to do certain things by either making fun of you/teasing you for it or claiming you are too grown to do it but try not to pay any mind to them as these activities, maybe watching old cartoons or colouring could lead to you connecting with your inner spirit and finding inspiration taking you out of ruts both in a creative sense and also with regard to clarity about what you want to do in life.

You have a youthful spirit, where you are not afraid of starting over and December is going to test you on that, you will be called to keep patient in the face of adversity and change courses because of missed chances or I am getting missed flights for some of you which could be related to some trip being cancelled and you could end up having a hitch in your finances where you may have to control your spending this month to maintain balance by maybe living below your means.

You could also end up having an argument with someone with masculine and earthy energy, particularly someone who may have prominent Capricorn in their chart regarding romantic relationships and commitment, this person may want you to start taking responsibility and committing to not only people but also things and could imply that time is ticking for you and that not making any decisions is not better than making bad decisions or mistakes. They could be a mentor figure or a family member.

🍯 Pile 3

To start off, there is going to be a lot of introspection for you this month, you may feel like nothing's going your way or that nothing is going in general, the amount of stagnation could lead you to feel like whatever you are doing is wrong and could really frustrate you. However, because your financial stability this month is going to be off the charts, you will keep doing what you are doing and build a lot of relationships around you with people who could help you enhance it even further.

You will find yourself getting lucky financially and experience accomplishments that you are already expecting, to be honest, which is why you could feel stagnant even after this.

The reason you may be introspecting this month could be to do with you wanting quietude from the hustle and bustle of the grind life and rethink if this is what you really want. You could question your lifestyle maybe you are someone who is in the middle of city life and have a job or school/college life that is very hectic and you may have a chance to get away from it for a bit and you have to make the choice to either go with the flow or challenge the universe and decide you prefer things the way they are.

December will bring about situations especially career wise where you will need to be willing to let go of preconceived notions and switch perspectives that you do not NEED to constantly grind to get what you want because you will get it due to you deserving it and having the skills to accomplish it. This month will be closing out by you finding yourself confused about these things and trying to make up your mind, this could lead to you hesitating to confront the cracks that may have been forming in your life ideologically rather than materially.

🍯 Pile 4

Oh, Pile 4 this month you will be stepping into your power! Deserved! This could be after a long while of contemplation regarding if you deserve it, but then realising you would not have gotten the opportunities if you did not. You will be working alongside possibly an older person who will teach you how to embody the traits of a leader, being strict yet understanding and building relationships with your peers where you do not feel like you are overshadowing them, which could be a concern of yours.

This month will require you to do a lot of learning, from skills to adopting new ideas and how to be adaptable, being able to communicate effectively and clearly with a wide range of people you will really find yourself in a better place careerwise than you may have in the past months. You will be grabbing all the opportunities you will get to strengthen your relationships with people and go after opportunities ranging from jobs and school to getting something you may have wanted for a while like a bag or a car. You will be very lucky and "right place, right time" could be a strong statement for this month for you.

However, because of all of this and the changing tides, you being new to these things you could feel anxious and overwhelmed by all the responsibilities. Although you would be able to complete them and keep up with them, you could start questioning yourself again, this self-doubt could lead to maybe hitting a tiny bump in the road where you could fumble something moderately important, but this would just make you more determined to trust yourself going forward. You will also take time to relax and rejuvenate this month, and could start meditating! And if not, it would be advisable to because it helps a lot (speaking from personal experience).

Do not plagiarise, copy or reword this is all my work, all rights reserved to Ukiyowi

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 2

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut, and some dubcon. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

I watch too many horror movies, so I thought I write a part two for this small story.

I have some more ideas for this, so I might write a few other parts for this.

Have fun! :D

Part 1

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You raise the glass to your mouth with slow movements, and as you take a sip of the whiskey resting in it, you can barely register how the liquid is burning down your throat. Because it's much more interesting to study the man in front of you, laughing with peaceful glee, who, although exudes the role of the innocent host with every pore, he cannot deceive you anymore.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that you weren't imagining it when Johnny deviated from the script a few hours ago and whispered something in your ear that he shouldn't have done according to your experiences so far. Although the events of the previous night could have served as a warning sign, you’re now sure that something has changed. Somehow, the thread of the story slowly drifted away from the usual path and began to flow in a direction where you have no idea what will welcome you at the end. But one thing is clear. That you won't let this satanic place screw with you. You will fight and outsmart it, even if you have to try a thousand times over.

"Oh, this house is so beautiful, Johnny! I envy you so much that you managed to buy it!" Pam blabbers excitedly, and the warmth of the alcohol permeates her voice, which makes all her enthusiasm fall out much more loudly from her red lips. If she knew that this man was looking for an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers from civilization, so that he could indulge in his bloody hobby in peace, she wouldn't be nearly so cheerful.

"The credit is not mine, one of my friends found it." Johnny notes modestly, and a wide smile appears on his mouth, which you know is his only sincere moment during the entire evening. Whoever this friend was, whom he had referred to so many times during dinners, he hadn't paid his respects so far. And you know that in a game like this, every word the characters utter has weight, each one could be a vague hint to another clue. But you haven't been able to figure out the identity of this unknown friend just yet, and it occurs to you that maybe this little detail is what’s missing to make the picture complete. But you don't have time for that now. You have more important things to do.

The key hidden in your pocket almost burns the skin of your thigh, and every single nerve of yours tenses in anticipation, waiting for the story to reach the point where you can finally jump into action and move forward to discover what this little trinket opens. Because you're convinced that if Johnny hadn't distracted you earlier, you wouldn't have died, and would found something vastly valuable. And now you're not going to let anything hold you back before you expose what's behind the door.

Rebecca's phone rings, and she excuses herself with her usual panicked stuttering, only to rush out the door into the embrace of the dark night. And this means good news, because it seems that despite the oddities, everything continues as it should. And for the first time, you're glad that this nerve-wracking, repetitive drama is happening once again, because it gives you a chance to regain control. At least you hope so.

And you fix your eyes on the man silently, who is deep into a lively conversation with Pam, because the alcohol is almost gone from the bottle, and it's time for him to leave. And you follow his every move with unmoving attention, in case you find something that might indicate that he will deviate from the script again. Of course, you know that when he takes on his less likable persona and tries to kill you with one of his many creative methods, he becomes frighteningly unpredictable. But until you get there, he's like a tame lamb. As far as appearances go. 

"What's the time?" Pam suddenly asks, and you snap out of your sinister thoughts to look at her in bewilderement, because this dialogue should happen much later. Normally she decides she had enough of the night's fun only when Johnny has long since retired to his room. "Jesus, it's that late? I better go get some sleep if I don't want to look like a corpse tomorrow morning!" She yawns, after checking the time on her phone's screen, and you've seen every single movement with which she stands up and stretches out her tired muscles a dozen times, but still, as she throws you a last "good night" and sets off towards the path leading upstairs, your chest fills with icy shock.

Because this way something that has never happened before takes place, and after the disappearance of your two companions, you’re left alone with the man, who waves goodbye to the girl, only to turn all his stressful attention to you a second later. And you just stare at the long-empty stairs, frozen in surprise, as if the steps could answer what the hell is going on here.

"What's wrong, Bunny?" He inquires, and you carefully shift your gaze to him, as the dread slowly crawls under your skin to envelope your conciseness. Although the game initially lulled you into a false sense of calm with how slyly it followed the main storyline again, but now everything continues to change yet again. And due to the rampage of the doubts that arise in your head, you're unable to put the broken pieces of your sanity together and figure out what should you do now that you’re stuck with the enemy who you know is just waiting to gut you like the prey you are.

"I…" You stammer nervously, and your tongue rolls in your mouth with such clumsiness, as if the leaden heaviness creeping into you from terror would paralyze it as well. And it's probably the case, because for a few torturous seconds, you only gape at him with the elegance of fish, before your body is able to recollect itself enough to form coherent sentences. "I just thought she would stay a little bit longer." You hesitate, forcing lightness into your tone, and your mind tries to gather the facade of calmness with desperate speed, because when you see that characteristic, almost pitying shadow pass over the man's face, you know you have fallen into a trap.

"The driver needs the rest too." Johnny remarks simply, and although there is still a remnant of the friendly smile at the corner of his mouth, the cold glint moving into his eyes kills all warmth from his expression. And you know that look all too well to realize you have to flee as soon as possible, because it's usually the last thing you see before he takes your life with his own hands.

Your body moves almost instinctively, and you spring up from the festive table so suddenly, that your chair cries out with a loud creak as it slides backward on the floor from your momentum. You grab the plates stacked on the middle of the table with shaking hands, and you concentrate with every fiber of your being so that your behavior does not encourage the man sitting on the other side to do anything rash. But he just cocks his head to the side lazily and watches you with interest, and even though your eyes are strictly trained on the crumpled napkins, which you hastily pile on top of the cutlery, you can feel his penetrating gaze burning the sensitive skin of your face.

"I’ll clear the table." You declare, and you don't give him time to object, because you’re already heading towards the kitchen to get away from him as fast as possible, since every cell of yours can feel that the storm is approaching, which will strike if you stay next to him. "I'll wash these up! You can go to bed!" You throw it back over your shoulder, and you're unable to expel the desperate quaver that settles in your voice, because you know that you fled from him like a chased animal, and you only dare to hope that he doesn't attach more importance to it. Because even though he seems like a very real person, he's just a fictional character and doesn't have enough self-awareness to properly evaluate your behavior. Or that's what you try to calm yourself down with.

And as you step into the embrace of the empty kitchen, with a soft sigh, you blow out the air that has been trapped in your chest, straining painfully against your ribs until now. You stumble to the counter, and it's almost a strange miracle that nothing falls out of your hands, even though you're gripping the goddamn cheap china with such force that your palms start to ache. You quietly slip the plates into the sink and anxiously peer back behind your shoulders as they land clattering on the metal. Because every little misstep can alarm the enemy, and now you need a minute of precious solitude to work out what the hell is going on.

But nothing else comes from the living room except the warm light of the crackling fire in the fireplace and the motionless silence. A few more nerve-racking moments pass, until your paranoid mind finally calms down and you believe that you don't have to be afraid of Johnny coming after you just yet. And when you’re finally able to tear your frightened eyes away from the door, you turn back to the sink, trying to muffle your panicked panting. You feel the nervous breakdown slowly creeping up on you, and wild dizziness moves into your head, as you realize that last night set in motion a series of events that will slowly tear apart the fragile certainty in which you have navigated yourself somewhat confidently until now. Because even though this place is cursed, it has consistently followed its rules so far, and you have been able to progress in it despite the many pain-filled miseries you had to suffer through. But now something went very wrong, and none of the thoughts running through your head can find an answer to what could have been the little mistake that started this avalanche.

Resting your palm on the cold stone of the counter, you try to pull your mind back from the edge of hysteria, and your fingers grip the cool marble with desperate strength, as hovering on the verge of crying, you try to fight the calmness back into your body with a few pitiful breaths. Because even though every single nerve cell of yours screams and strains against consciousness, you cannot allow yourself to panic now. This is exactly what the game wants. For you to get confused, make a mistake, and die, over and over again, until one day you dive so deep into this nightmare that you won't want to leave because you won't even remember what's waiting outside. It may be trying new ways to crush you, but you must not let it win. That would mean your fall and possible eternal torment.

You need time.

You open the faucet quickly, and as the lukewarm water caresses your fingers, you feel that confidence slowly returning to your battered brain. If you pretend to clean up after the party like a helpful guest, you hopefully drag out this ridiculous task just long enough for Johnny to get tired of waiting and leave. You need him to disappear, because as long as he's out there lurking, you have no chance to investigate further. And you must not forget that your number one priority is to find clues. And no mean tactics can dissuade you from this. Not even when despair seeps into your bones like a contagious disease. 

As you slowly get to work, you mechanically start listing the steps you need to take in your head. You have to go back upstairs and get into the room that the lock hides from you. You have to be on the lookout because you're not sure if it was Johnny and Pam's steamy moment or your own attempt to open the lock that invited the masked killer. Maybe the death flag was activated because you weren't fast enough. Every time you take too long to get to the next safe spot, you die because your clumsiness gives one of your attackers enough time to find you. As if the game would punish your failure with this. But even if you're quick, you can't be completely sure that he won't show up again, so you have to be prepared to defend yourself. If you don't manage to open the lock in two tries, you have to hide and see what happens, so that…

Out of nowhere, the distinctive, woody scent hits your nose, breaking you out of your planning in an instant, but you’re unable to react in time, because when you feel the burning heat of the body snuggling up to you, your hand holding the sponge freezes with the distress of a trapped animal. You forget to breathe from the stunned shock creeping into you, as you see huge hands spread out on the counter from the corner of your eye, blocking your way of escape, as if he knew that your first instinctive thought would be to run. But even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to act fast enough, because the moment the man's hard muscles press against your back, you know you have no chance of fleeing, and this painful realization short-circuits your brain.

"My hardworkin" wee Bunny... Ye left so soon." Johnny murmurs, and you feel his deep voice resonating through his chest, because suddenly all your nerves can only focus on the tense proximity with which he presses himself up to you. "Ye didnae just want to run away from me, did ye?"

Anyone would think that it's just kind, friendly interest, but your ears can sense the dangerous edge behind his words, with which he tries to force out the reason you left him alone in the living room so unexpectedly. The soft gurgling of the water echoes in your head like a deafening noise and drums on the metal like an ominous melody, deepening the raw fear moving inside you. What is he doing here anyway? Why didn't he go to sleep already?

"No... I just... " You stutter softly, and even to yourself the whimper that comes out of your mouth seems pathetically weak, but you’re unable to pull yourself together because the panic is awakening with too much force. "I didn't want you to be left with the cleaning after you've already thrown the dinner together." You finally bring yourself to speak, and you hastily swallow the terror rising in your throat, which leads the bitter taste of stomach acid in your mouth.

And you don't like the low, malicious chuckle that sounds next to your ear, because every single hair on your back stands up as you feel the air fanning over your neck in small waves from his amusement. You don’t dare to move, because the danger is too close, and you're afraid that every reckless act will lead to your death in the next moment. And even though you know that you'll get back into the car and start all over again, you can't get rid of the doubt in the back of your head that tells you, from now on you can't be sure about that either…

"It's okay, this will do too." He hums casually, as if giving himself permission to engage in what was born in his twisted mind. And you frown in confusion, because you’re unable to understand what is that he wants to achieve with this. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already, and although he's no stranger to playing with you before the main event, he has never resorted to such tricks before. This is different now, this is some threatening new twist that you’re not prepared for.

"What do you mean?" The instinctive question bursts out of you, because the uneasiness arising in your mind creeps onto your tongue much sooner than you could suppress your curiosity. And for a moment it seems as if he might hesitate, because for a few agonizing seconds, nothing happens. But before you can feel the relief that maybe he’ill stop playing this horrible game, you feel the light touch of his nose caressing the sensitive skin behind your ear, and it makes your heart jump in fear.

"I love yer scent." He breathes, and the moan that escapes from his mouth sounds almost longing, when he buries his face in your neck and takes a deep inhale of your hair. And you can only hope that you imagine the shiver that runs through his body. "So sweet. Full of fear." He grumbles, and goosebumps rise reflexively on your back, as you feel the burning touch of his lips on your skin, which makes you light-headed for a moment, and the world starts spinning with you from confused panic.

"Johnny, what the…" You gasp and try to make eye contact through the glass of the window in front of you, but you regret it soon enough. Because when the gaze of his reflection flashes on you, you see nothing but darkness in them, as if the deepest recesses of hell have moved in those beautiful, vivid eyes. In the yellowish light filtering in from behind, he looks like an inhumane shadow as his strong figure towers over you, and you feel pitifully small in the embrace of his body swelling with strength. He would be able to break all your bones with one light movement, like a twig dried in the summer sun. You know, because he already did. Not just once.

And this is enough for the first wild desire to escape to wake up in your body, and when you try to break away from his suffocating proximity with a frightened step, he only presses himself even closer to you, and you involuntarily hiss as the sharp edge of the kitchen counter bites into your stomach. And the horrified realization strikes you, that the hardness that slowly pushes against your lower back is not the product of your imagination.

"Shh, calm down." He coos, with an almost condescending edge in his voice, as if he would want to soothe a terrified child, but you can see the twist of a cruel smile at the corner of his mouth, which makes him look more like a predator that has found its prey. "We're just playin' a little. Ye need to relax too." He states, and you don't like the way a wolfish grin creeps onto his face, enjoying the way your eyes slowly open wide with terror.

Before would be able to register it, one of his hands begins its lazy exploration, and as his long fingers travel along the bare skin of your arm, you shiver from the feigned tenderness with which he touches you. Like a gentle lover trying to ingrain the fine lines of your body onto his memory, but you know him better than that. You know what kind of bloodlust lurks behind that handsome face, you know what kind of beast nests in his chest, which can burst out at any moment and tear your throat open to paint his teeth crimson with your flesh.

"Stop it..." You finally find your voice, and although the wavers from the fear that crawls into your stomach, it rings just loud enough to draw his attention to the fact that you might have started to defy him. But even this little courage fades away when you feel his large palm slide onto your stomach, and as his fingers teasingly caress the top of your pants, the plate you've been clutching falls out of your hand with a reflexive movement, so you can grab his thick wrist in alarm before he could move forward with whatever he wanted to do. The porcelain breaks into a thousand pieces with a deafening clatter, splitting the deceptive silence of the night in two. And for a moment, time freezes, the rustle of the wind blowing outside falls silent, and the shining of golden light reflected in the window fades. As though the continuity of the game would break for a minute. As if you've disrupted something important with your rejection.

"Stop what?" He tilts his head to the side, and although you see a completely innocent expression appear in the dim reflection for a moment, you can make out the disgusting vileness that shines in his eyes. "I'm not doin' anythin' you wouldn't need, bonnie." He says, as if he honestly wouldn't understand what he did wrong by appearing in this godforsaken kitchen.

You're about to open your mouth to protest further, but his free hand finds your neck with such suddenness that all the fleeting sounds of your defiance boil onto your throat at the warning squeeze of his fingers. And even though he doesn't cause pain, it's just enough of a threat to drive the spark of resistance out of your limbs by forcing them into automatic obedience. Because a whole new kind of worry takes over you when he closes every millimeter of the already miniscule distance between the two of you, as though he would try to merge into one with your paralyzed body, and because of the helpless shock, you allow him to continue with this sick game as he pleases.

His hand, which wanders over your stomach, crawls under your jeans with nerve-wracking sluggishness, and you cringe at the roughness of his palm, which only elicits a lustful growl from him. He smooths his mouth on your neck with a wet kiss, and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in the window, as if you were just watching a movie, and you wouldn't even experience first-hand how his tongue slowly traces the faint line of the vein running under your skin, in which your desperately racing pulse continues to pump fear into your body. But as you feel his hand suddenly move lower, and his fingers skim along your clit hidden in your underwear, then you tense up with an instinctive shock and try to pull away from him a second later.

He must really enjoy your thrashing, because he thrusts his hips forward with a grunt full of pleasure, and as his cock presses against you, the throaty moans escaping from his mouth burn your skin along with his hot breath. And as his fingers start to write small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, and he begins to grind himself against you through your clothes with feverish movements, like a fucking, horny dog, then the anger flares up inside you along with the heat that awakens between your thighs. Because this dirty, perverted scumbag isn't going to distract you from getting out of here with this damn stunt. No matter how troubling it is when the first suffocating wave of lust rushes through your treacherous body.

"Stop, you motherfucker!" An angry cry breaks out of you, and your hand finds a piece of the broken plate in the sink, and you grab it with such speed to stab it into the man's arm emerging from your pants like a venomous snake. He lets go with a painful roar, and this gives you just enough opportunity to break free from his arms and back away from him with hasty steps, fixing your eyes sparkling with poison on him.

However, his surprise doesn't last long, because he pulls out the piece of porcelain pierced in his hand amid colorful curses, only to throw it on the floor, shaking off the angry red drops of blood slowly emerging from the tiny cut. The whole ordeal doesn't seem to be more than a passing inconvenience to him, because the next moment he has that godawful smirk on his face again, which makes your stomach shrink to the size of a tennis ball. But you don't give up, you look for the knife, which is lying on the counter in the exact same way as usual, and grabbing it, you raise it in front of you angrily. This is the first time that you try to fight instead of running away, and the adrenaline rushes through your body with a force that you have never experienced before in your life.

"Look at ye, how brave ye have become!" He exclaims amusedly, and as he takes a few slow, menacing steps towards you, like a big cat ready to attack, you hastily move to the other side of the table in the middle of the kitchen, hoping that this is enough of a barrier between the two of you. "You've let me play with ye so willingly so far... But it's okay. I like how fiery ye are!" He continues his rambling, and you can feel the patronizing edge in his voice, as if it would amuse him and fill him with pity at the same time that you think you finally have a chance to hurt him. And your brain is too busy with your escape, slowly dragging you out of the kitchen, to understand what an impossible statement is hidden in his words. Because then you would have to face the fact that he's not as unaware as you thought.

"Shut up." You snap at him with clenched teeth, and you focus on him with every nerve because you're afraid that if you lose sight of him even for a minute, he'll throw himself at you and you'll lose all your chances of survival. Even though the logical side of you knows that it would be easier to let him kill you and start this horror again. But the pulsation of fury is too strong in you to yield to the deceptive lure of the simpler path.

"I wanted to taste yer pussy. But I think I'll have to settle for yer blood for now." He taunts cruelly, and now you know that this whole wicked game was just another tool to torture you. Because he always wants the same thing, no matter what cunning methods he uses. He wants to enjoy the sight of your lifeless body. "Maybe next time." He promises, and he charges towards you so suddenly that you just blindly swing your hand clutching the knife at him, and even you yourself are surprised when you succeed in slicing the strong line of his chin in the heat of the moment.

He hisses as fresh blood gushes out in the wake of your attack, and you gain just enough advantage to start running like a frightened doe, bolting desperately from the kitchen's threshold. You run across the living room, out of breath, and from the stress hormones raging in your body, you almost tear the front door open to stumble into the cool night. In your panic-stricken brain, it occurs to you that this will be a bad idea, but you have no other option, you have to trust that the darkness of the forest will hide you from the madman, whose pounding footsteps can be heard behind you, as you rush forward in the thicket and get swallowed up by the tangled cavalcade of trees.

Your pulse thumping on your eardrums joins in as the background noise for your sprint, and your lungs start to burn slowly, as the cold air gnaws at your trachea in the middle of your rush. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, and you don't even realize how the branches dig into your face and tear at your hair, because you have only one goal in front of your eyes: To get as far away from Johnny as possible.

But your escape attempt is short lived, because two hands reach out from behind one of the trees so swiftly that you don't have time to dodge it. They loop around your waist with a vise-like grip, and your mouth opens to a frightened scream, but when you try to free yourself from the shackles of your attacker, you almost feel your ribs crack, as the strong arms wrap around you tighter, pressing you to a massive body with deadly determination.

You glance back in terror, and when you see the skull-like mask, it's too late. One of his hands lets go of you, and even if you had a momentary chance to get away, it immediately disappears when the hunting knife sinks into your stomach. You let out a startled whimper as the agonizing pressure builds when he slowly twists the blade inside you, and you feel the warm, red liquid bubbling out of the torn flesh.

You fall to the ground like a rag doll as your attacker releases you from his grip, and you sprawle out in the mud coughing up blood as the pain shoots through your every nerve. And through the blur of the ever-increasing blood loss, you only dimly perceive how a familiar figure appears next to the masked man, but even hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, you recognize Johnny's cheerful laugh, with which he pats the other killer on the shoulder.

"I almost got her!"  Johnny laments, and with your weak and foggy brain, you can't comprehend the inscrutable emotion in his voice. "Never mind. Next time, it'll be different!"

And when the darkness envelopes you in its weightless embrace, you have the last fleeting thought that this game is taking more and more fatal turns.

~ ° ~

Gasping in alarm, your eyes open in the back seat of the car, and you smooth away the cold sweat from your forehead with shaking hands, as you realize that you're back at the beginning of the game once again. Surrounded by the chatter of your two companions, you try to overcome your disorientation, because dizziness invades your head in a way you've never experienced before, as if you've brought a little of the horror of your previous death with you when you restarted this misery.

And when the dull pain in your stomach hits you, you pull up the thin material of your T-shirt in fear, and your brain goes blank for a fleeting moment when you see what is waiting for you there. A palm-sized black spot spreads across the soft blanket of healthy skin, and you're pretty sure it's not just your imagination playing tricks on you when you recognize a skull slowly taking shape in it. Like a carving of a cruel reminder, so you don’t forget who ended your life this time.

It doesn't make any sense... you've died twenty-four times, yet this is the first time something strange appears on you, as though the game would try to convey something. As if your killer had marked you with his signature... But why?

But you don't have time to ponder on this any longer, because the car stops, and you pull your shirt down in panic to cover the new sign, before it catches the eyes of the two girls and they start asking questions. You could explain yourself, but at this point, you're not entirely sure if it wouldn't start something with another set of fatal consequences.

The girls hop out of the car in the middle of their excited conversation, but you stay put, trying to overcome hyperventilation and regain some semblance of your composure. You need to be more careful, you made no progress yesterday, and if this continues, you will never get out of here. And you can't allow that. Never.

However, when the door opens and Johnny's cheerful figure appears on the doorstep, you know that nothing is going to be all right. Because behind him, a tall figure, whom you have never seen before, slowly emerges from the house. The light of the autumn sun shines golden on his dark blond hair, and although his face is half covered by a black medical mask, you still recognize the threat in the unfamiliar man. Because as those dark eyes settle on you, as you hesitantly step out of the car, every single fiber in your body screams at the same time: RUN!

But you know you can't run away. You're forced to go further in this hellscape because that is the only way to get out. And whoever this new stranger is, he won't stop you. No matter what happens.