#Safety screens for homes

[doubleglazingvic]

5 Reasons Why Security Screens for Windows by Double Glazing Melbourne Are Essential for Your Home

In today's world, ensuring the safety and security of your home is paramount. One effective way to achieve this is by installing security screens for windows. When it comes to reliability and quality, Double Glazing Melbourne stands out as a trusted provider. Here are five compelling reasons why investing in security screens from Double Glazing Melbourne is crucial for your home:

Enhanced Protection: Security screens act as a robust barrier against intruders, deterring potential break-ins and burglaries. Double Glazing Melbourne's screens are built with high-quality materials and cutting-edge technology, providing an extra layer of security for your windows.

Durable Construction: Double Glazing Melbourne's security screens are designed to withstand harsh weather conditions and resist tampering. Crafted from sturdy materials such as reinforced steel or aluminum, these screens offer long-lasting durability without compromising on aesthetics.

Improved Safety: Apart from keeping intruders out, security screens also play a crucial role in safeguarding your family against accidents. They prevent children or pets from accidentally falling out of windows while still allowing fresh air and natural light to enter your home.

Enhanced Privacy: With Double Glazing Melbourne's security screens, you can enjoy peace of mind knowing that your privacy is protected. These screens are designed to shield your interiors from prying eyes without obstructing your view of the outside world.

Energy Efficiency: In addition to security and safety benefits, Double Glazing Melbourne's security screens also contribute to energy efficiency. By providing an extra barrier against heat transfer, these screens help regulate indoor temperatures, leading to reduced energy consumption and lower utility bills.

Investing in security screens for windows by Double Glazing Melbourne is a smart decision that offers a wide range of benefits for your home. From enhanced protection and durability to improved safety and energy efficiency, these screens provide comprehensive solutions to meet your security needs.

For More Information

Website : https://doubleglazingmelbourne.com/fly-security-screens/

Email ID : sales@doubleglazingmelbourne.com

Phone Number : 03 9002 0137

[heavenknowsffs]

my phone gets drunk at least once a month (gets drenched in beer by accident and stops working for 1 to 2 days) which is incresibly inconvenient but also nice because i can disconnect from social media for a whole ass day!

[gender-euphowrya]

you know that ''big purchases have to be done on a computer screen" thing

mine goes "big purchases have to be done in a physical store"

[fairmaiden8]

Stay Safe and Cozy: The Importance of Fireplace Screen Doors

Fireplaces are a beautiful addition to any home, providing warmth and ambiance during the colder months. However, fireplaces can also be dangerous if not used properly. One important safety feature that many people overlook is fireplace screen doors. So we’ll explore why fireplace screen doors are so important, what types are available, how to choose the right one for your home, and even some…

[belokhvostikova]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Halloween had stamped itself as Hawkins' favorite time of the year, where teenager party and murderers prow. And you come face-to-face with that, when a particular masked man takes a special interest in you.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, alcohol consumption, minor sexual harassment, stalking, mention/allusions to murder, and explicit sexual content: groping, degradation, choking, role play (serial killer), mask kink, knife play, oral (male and female receiving), rimming (male and female receiving), squirting, cum eating, squirt make out…?, semi-public sex, dubcon (part of the role play), non con, and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | What do you mean it's not Halloween? It's always Halloween. Especially when it involves Ghostface!Eddie. Oh, and this is also a Modern!Eddie story. But wait, can you image Rockstar!Eddie singing "In the Room Where You Sleep" as, like, a Halloween special- I'd have an aneurysm. Sorry, that was a lot of Eddies.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 12.8K

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hin-”

The harsh smudge of your fingertip against your phone screen discerned your frustration, as you hung up with a huff, pacing your clacking footsteps a second faster than before. 

But it all fell short, when the heavy set of footsteps that trailed behind you only quickened to keep up.

Faster. Aggressively. Shit.

For the third time in a row on that brisky night, your call had went straight to voicemail. And you were ready to kill Eddie Munson. In retrospect, castigating your boyfriend for merely doing the very thing you criticized him about on a near daily basis—the whole “stop answering your phone while you’re driving” debacle that took place every time Eddie picked up one of your calls while heading somewhere, then rebutting you with a “but I love hearing your voice, it relaxes me” that he always whined out—was hypocritical, at best, but given the circumstance, you were exhorting to have your boyfriend disobey your word of safety for your safety. 

And the desperation that palpitated from the fervent clicking of your heels hitting against the rough pavement of the sidewalk to speed up your steps was starting to become humiliating. Because one step away brought them one step closer. By the nose, you narrowly glanced back. 

The same mask. The same hood. The same heavy boots. The same entity that followed you through the hallways of Steve Harrington’s wooded, stately home on the night of Halloween. 

Only the clock had struck a quarter past midnight. Halloween was over. The month of November had come. And yet, the figure behind you kept the mask on. Despite the lengthy walk from Harrington’s back patio to the intersection where Mirkwood and Cornwallis met, the mask stayed on. And your heart was beginning to race. You finally faced it. “God, you freak, stop following me!” Their steps halted. Gloved hand clenching around the handle of a knife that you wished to be of plastic. “My boyfriend’s on his way, so fuck off before he gets here!” God, you really hope he was. 

Turning around in a huff, your eyes constricted with frustration, as the steps behind you continued, in sync with yours. Coming closer. And closer. 

It’s just some stupid prank, you rationalized. It was one of the Stafford kids. Probably Declan Stafford. He was alway the worst out of the pair. It was best for your sanity to repeat that mantra over and over until Declan Stafford finally gave in and took off the mask. Only Declan Stafford was a fifteen-year-old sophomore. And you were desperately enforcing the incredulous lie that the possibility of Declan Stafford suddenly gaining muscle and height in the course of a single day was plausible. It wasn’t. But admitting that would be admitting that this wasn’t some immature teenager’s prank. 

And you were actually being preyed upon. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha-”

Why?! Why out of all the times Eddie blatantly ignored your concerns of picking up the phone while driving, did he actually decide to listen to you on the one night you needed him not to?! Straight to voicemail. Again. But when you angrily hung up on Eddie’s pre-recorded tone—the one you couldn’t find endearing at this given moment—you heard it- or rather, didn’t hear it. The quietness. The crunching of fall leaves being flattened under heavy boots was no longer lingering. A biting breeze howled, and a hunting owl hooted. But no footsteps. 

You hesitantly turned around…

He was gone. 

Your shoulders fell with the relief of your untightening chest, as your joints unlocked from tension, a foggy breath escaping in solace. For a moment, you relished in the quietness of the night with closed eyes. Something you hadn’t realized you missed so deeply until you had it back in your possession.

With a dissipating heartbeat, you ran a hand over your perspiring face that felt ablaze with terror. But Declan Stafford, or his other half, or whatever other delinquent freak that it was was finally out of sight, and you cursed the juvenility of boys during the night of Halloween. 

Fighting the liquor that buzzed your body with heightened emotions, you blinked the dryness of your eyes to steady the blurred disfigurement of your phone screen. Your thumb smashed against Eddie’s contact once more, a last resort to finally chew him out, as you teetered on high heels to turn back on your trek. 

Only, your steps halted at a sudden obstruction, and you watched the tempered glass of your screen protector crack against the pavement at your feet, as your heels stood toe-to-toe with the boots that plagued you. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie…” Your head slowly followed up the broad, black figure, “…or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie.” Your stomach sank to the stagger stature that overpowered you. “I’m busy ignoring your calls.” His mask, deprived of anything holy, stalked down your trembling frame, mocking you with the tilt of his head.

Your breath became lodged in your throat.

“So leave a message or finally take a hint.” Your mouth dropped with the words you couldn’t find. And he allowed you the grace of one step back, before…

“AH- mmm!”

The leather of his glove smeared your lipgloss with the tightness of his grasp, as your screams diffused into a muffle of wails. With much resistance, your nails bit through the sleeved fabric of his clothes, but nothing was penetrative enough to deter his strength, merely constricting your flailing body more with a muscled arm. Your enveloped screams cried of defeated desperation, as you lost your footing to the strength of his embrace, now at his mercy.

In the distance, a meandering stray may have startled at the abruption of your stifled pleas. But in the beat of a second, they’d continue their hungry journey for a helpless mouse or scraps, as your screeches would succumb to the darkness of night.

No longer salvageable.

-

SEVEN HOURS EARLIER 

“Mm… saw something touching your head, in the room where you sleep, mm…” You thrummed to the buzzing tunes, scrunching your face as an averse to the tickle of your makeup brush, against your greatest efforts of trying to stay still. 

But with a little black there, and some pink here, you squealed with anticipation of the night to come. 

Autumn had brought a chilling front to Hawkins, Indiana, and the small town of suburbia had never looked so good with a flood of orange and red crunching beneath the tiny feet of early trick-or-treaters. Credits to the Yankee Candle that burned its essence in the corner of your bedroom, the fall season felt at ease with the cinnamon apple that warmed your being. 

“You better run, mm, you better hide…” Should the day ever come that you discover that you were actually singing along to the voice of Ryan Gosling, you’d flip your shit to your boyfriend on an endless ramble, but until then, you’d cluelessly enjoy the ominous tune of Dead Man’s Bones in the name of Halloween.

In the reflection of your vanity, you shifted in the various angles of the beaming sunset until you were fully satisfied with the face paint that decorated your features.

You stood from your place, prancing about to the beat of the music, as you swayed your way to your bed, where your purchased costume displayed itself, awaiting you. While your boyfriend appreciated the art of Halloween, and had much interest in the horrors behind it, the anticipated “costume talk” fell on deaf ears- or, at least, defensive ones. Something about looking stupid, you weren’t entirely sure. Though, what you did know was pointing out the irony of not wanting to look “ridiculous” whilst sporting a mane like his in retaliation was not at all a good idea, as his response came in the form of torturing you in the dramatics of wrestling on his frumpy mattress. 

Touché, to Eddie Munson. It came as a good deterrence away from the conversation that would inevitably lead to him wearing something you sparked from Pinterest. Because in the end, Eddie Munson could never say no to you. 

No matter how stupid he’d look. 

But, as any reputable couple therapist would advise, compromise is key. And where you insisted on a cute couples costume, Eddie met you with the request to, at least, get to choose what that may be. And much props to him, you swooned at the adorable idea of being the abducted cow to his alien. 

Only, Eddie didn’t allow you to celebrate too soon, as he vowed to go the whole nine yards. Devoid, black contacts; gargantuan, bald head; pale, soulless skin; creepy, gross tentacles. “I’m Heidi Klum-ing this bitch, sweetheart.” That night, you regretted ever showing him the moment a 5’9 worm walked the carpet. Something Eddie Munson severely got a kick out of. 

You straightened out your patterned skirt, smiling for the night that was about to come. With shoes needed for completion, you turned to retrieve your platform pumps, only… your peripheral had caught the silhouette of something- someone… staring… watching… stalking. 

Claiming the once calm view of your bedroom window. 

The October chill brought a draft against your mother’s clothesline, where her linens flowed in the evening setting, and there it was. Peaking through sheets, masked, and dark. 

Your eyes squinted to confirm the sight, as you hid behind your curtains, feeling your stomach plummet. What a psycho. Understandably, Halloween had declared itself around the idea of fright, but that came with the common consensus of harmless jumpscares and innocent pranks, not trespassing. “Stupid teenagers.” You mumbled to yourself. 

But a sudden bang from inside your house had you gasping, petrified. “Dad?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood with alarm. “Mom?” Footsteps rang closer.

And closer.

“Hey- woah.” Eddie Munson, himself, flinched at the sudden shriek that left your mouth at the abrupt opening of your bedroom door. His brow cocked at the heaving of your breath, your hand clutching to your chest. “Hey, sorry, it’s just me, baby, you alright?” He eyed you.

“Shit…” You huffed out. “You scared me!” Your mouth pouted at the chuckles he teased you with. 

Eddie smiled, mimicking your pout in faux sympathy. “Why? Thought you heard me comin’ in.”

“Ugh, well, yeah, but some immature kid is-” You turned back to your window, where suddenly nothing but your mother’s laundry hung to dry in the emptiness of your yard. They were gone. “I- what?” You inspected closer, your breath humidifying the glass. 

Eddie questioned your strange behavior. “What?”

You rotated in his direction. “N-Nothing. It was nothing- anyway, what are you doing here?” In an attempt to recover your uncanny nature, Eddie scoffed at the hasty rudeness your tone snapped towards him. 

“Well, for one, your dad let me in.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Y’know, I think he’s really starting to warm up to me.” His eyebrows jumped with cockiness.

And it became your turn to scoff at his presumptuousness. “If anything, he hates you a little bit more this time of year.” Because Halloween of 1984 became the year Hawkins, Indiana was terrorized by the vandalism of hoodlums, coined the “Toilet Paper Bandits.” Plastered on every front page of the Hawkins Post, the column followed the story of homes that became a victim of delinquency. Yours being one. Where you could find a little humor in your house, amongst others, being TPed, your father, as a mortgage-paying homeowner, became quite livid. In fact, you could vividly remember the rage of, “of course, it was that Munson boy,” when surveillance caught your soon-to-be boyfriend smiling sadistically with a roll of toilet paper in hand amongst his friends. “You gave him PTSD. He’s vowed to stay up all night to catch any ‘Munson wannabes.’”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Hey, now, if it wasn’t for that night, his beautiful daughter wouldn’t be getting treated right by her strong, sexy boyfriend.” He smoldered in pride. And, as much as you could roll your eyes at Eddie Munson, he was far from fibery, as the night that followed Halloween of 1984 was filled with the sincerest apologies to all sufferers of his actions (not really, just you, as he always thought you were cute).

“Whatever, but seriously, though, Eddie, you’re not supposed to be here ‘til later, why are you here?” You interrogated. “I still have to finish getting ready, you do, as well.” You emphasized. 

With calloused hands delicately caressing your face, Eddie thought of his next move. “Aw, look at you, my cute, little heifer.” Because if not buttered up with affection, he knew you’d be devastated at the news to come. 

Your mouth fell agape. “Don’t say heifer!” Your hand collided with his chest. “Say cow! Cow is much cuter than heifer!” 

And he chuckled at your annoyance, always proud of his accomplishments that left you feisty. “You’re right, I’m sorry, baby. You are a very gorgeous cow! Best out of stock! You’d be, like, the one the farmer doesn’t slaughter for a burger.”

“Right, just kept to be bred for the entirety of my life.” While only a joke, you knew his sick mind would run miles with it, as the inevitable lip bite came to play. 

“Ooh, now that you mention it-”

“Don’t even start, you freak!” Your hand brandished over his mouth, only for you to shriek at the contact his wet tongue made with your palm, before taking a playful bite of your skin.  

But with the bite came an abundance of kisses to your fingers and knuckles, as Eddie held your hand close to his lips, eyes peering down at you with caution. “Please don’t be mad at me.” His words mumbled against your skin. 

Your brows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

Eddie sighed. “Boomer called me.”

You knew what entailed when Boomer called. “No!” You couldn’t help the petulant whine in your voice. 

“He wants me at the shop tonight.” Eddie kissed his teeth with a groan. And before your mouth could even form the hurdling question as to why, Eddie was there to clear it up with a sweet kiss to appease the disappointment. “We got a couple’a cars Boomer’s been hounding on us to get finished. ‘Specially, since Rick just had his baby, n’ all, we’re down a man. And y’know, honey, all the guys got wives and kids and shit, it was easier for me to stay overnight, and get as much done as possible.”

“But Steve’s party!” You huffed. “We were supposed to go tonight. We were supposed to do the Monster Mash!” Eddie’s heart sunk at the misery of your face. Where something as silly dancing may have landed insignificant in the grand scheme of life, you were the first person to cement the fact that with Eddie Munson nothing was trivial. 

You cared for the little things with him. 

Your head dropped with defeat. “Aw, I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” He ventured to meet your eyes. “Look, it’s a little extra money, I’ll take you out on a real nice date-”

“No, it’s not even- ugh, I just spent so much time on the costume.” Granted, it was nothing but ordering overly priced cow printed clothes from various websites, but it really did hurt when the hot glue gun came in contact with your finger, as you strived to glue a mini UFO toy to your headband. “I really wanted to go-”

“Sweetheart, please go.” He encouraged. While not the usual rhetoric, as Eddie Munson always prided himself in being by your side, especially with events such as an infamous Steve Harrington Halloween party, he could put it aside if it meant you’d enjoy your night rather than sulking alone on Halloween.

In retrospect, should you have done so, maybe you still would have been alive today…

“Just promise me you’ll stick by Harrington and Rob, okay?” Despite the slumped shoulders of disappointment, you nodded to his request, and pecked his chin to pacify any guilt he may have been harboring for the turn of events. “Or hell, even Wheeler, saw her bitch out Carver for accidentally knocking over the newspaper stand, and with the look on his face, I trust her to do more harm than Stevie and his Farrah Fawcett hairspray.”

“I’m gonna look stupid just being an abducted cow.” You huffed, as you examined your DIY alien spacecraft headband, puffing out a giggle at the extensive amount of hot glue it took to secure the toy to the hair piece.

And Eddie Munson was right there to laugh along with you. “Believe me, baby, with what I had planned, you would’ve looked more stupid with me.” With a pout still distinguishable through your pitiful giggles, Eddie gently kissed your forehead, careful to not smudge the black spots that adorably littered your face. “I’ll try to finish up as fast as I can, and make it before the cops turn up, okay?”

“You sure you won’t be too exhausted?”

“To do the Monster Mash with you?” Eddie scoffed. “Hell no!” And he smiled, as your chest erupted in a bubble of laughter. “Might smell a little like grease, but so be it. Hell, I’ll even stop by the trailer, and come as an alien mechanic. Probe you with my wrench if you’ll let me.” 

Eddie flicked out his tongue, and you squealed, as he attempted to smother you in his perverted ways. “Get off of me, you freak!”

“Alright, alright.” He calmed you through your fit of chuckles. “How ‘bout,” he quickly kicked closed the door of your bedroom, “you show that little number you’re wearing tonight, so I can know what’s waiting for me? Little motivation, if you will.” He winked. 

“Ugh, my dad really does hate you, y’know?” Your arms instinctively caught around his neck, as his veiny hands gravitated to your ass. 

Eddie derided. “Ha, just ‘cause I love eating my raw, juicy steak.”

“Ew, you perv!” Your laughter was concealed by the capturing of his lips.

By the grace of your closed bedroom door, your parents were spared from the spank of Eddie’s hand against the meat of your ass that rippled with a stinging clash.

Eddie moaned. “You love it. You so fucking love it.”

You did. You so fucking did.

-

In the lonesome of the darkness, Eddie smiled to himself. The heat of his phone radiated against his skin, warming his cheek, as your squeals brought a joy to him like no other. “Oh, my god! You guys look so cute!” Even through the static of distance that blurred with the background of house music, your voice still lit a desire in him that could never be extinguished. “You’re- Eddie, they’re so cute!” Sandwiched between your shoulder and head, you played around with Robin’s tie, as she—among Nancy and Chrissy—geeked at the enthusiasm of your compliments. 

Despite his absence, your refusal to his exclusion left you detailing the present moments of Steve Harrington’s party over a call that surely overheated the phone. And what Eddie figured was the greeting of your friends may have left you a bit distracted from him, your distant conversation was enough to have him chuckling to himself, relishing in the moment that made it feel as though he was actually there.

“Ah, you even added the tattoos on your hand!” You screeched. “Oh, and your hair-” You moved onto Chrissy.

“It’s a wig! I couldn’t commit, ugh!” She clarified with a drunken slur that confirmed the group was well acclimated to the party, before you had arrived. 

“Eddie! Eds!” 

Eddie huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, baby, I’m here.”

“Chrissy’s Phoebe! A-And Nance is Lucy! And, of course, Robin is Julien!” You shouted over the thrum of the music. “And they’re all wearing their matching suits! Boygenius! You remember? T-The songs I showed you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled, a wish so vastly that he could experience your face of pure zeal. “Take pictures, baby, I wanna see it all.”

“Aye, where’s your other half?” Breaking through the static, that frat voice was far too familiar for Eddie to ignore.

“Oh, baby, please tell me if Stevie’s wearing something stupid!” He begged. If it wasn’t for the things Eddie Munson could hold over Steve Harrington’s head, their friendship would’ve succumbed to the awkward tension that came from being polar opposites in the hierarchy of high school. Call it karma for all the comments from The King’s friends that irritated The Freak’s life. But it was the teasing that allowed their “hatred” to manifest nicely. A genuine development into frenemies. And given that Halloween of last year was spent with Eddie Munson berating Steve Harrington on his “lazy” choice of a costume—nothing but pants with tiny, red flags held within his waistband; i.e., a walking red flag, i.e., Steve Harrington’s excuse to walk around shirtless—The Hair, himself, vowed to come up with something more… creative.

Your laugh vibrated through the speaker. “Oh, Steve, what are you wearing?” Your hand clasped over the shock of your gaping mouth. 

Eddie practically lunged through the phone. “What?! What is it?!”

“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one who can rock a vest.” Steve’s cockiness garbled through the heavy gulp he downed of whatever tainted his red solo cup. And with the vest, accompanied the tightest jorts you’d ever witness. Something old, like the Levi’s of his sophomore year, found in the ensemble of polos and sweaters of his closet that he could commit to destroying. And that he did, with the kitchen scissors of his mother, those pants turned into shorts, that then paired with knee pads and boots. “I’m Steve!” He spat into the mic of your phone, after drunkenly stealing it from your hands. “‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin!” That Farrah Facett hair spray wasted to good use to slick back his mane.  

Leave it to Steve Harrington to find a more creative way to be shirtless on Halloween night. 

Despite now being pressed against the warmth of Steve’s ear, you could hear the guttural laughter of your boyfriend echo through. “Steve, give me my boyfriend!” You whined. 

But your pleas went unheard. “Oh, man, I told you I was going all in!” These were the guys that claimed to hate each other? Yeah, right. “Nah, the girls are lovin’ it! Got the abs out n’ everything! All I gotta do is ask ‘em to wrestle, and they’re gigglin’ their shit off! I’m so getting laid!”

“Give me my phone back!” Your efforts fell unaccomplished, though. 

“And where’re you at, man? I’ve got people asking for your supply! Thought you were comin’.” You rolled your eyes at the lost cause repossessing your phone became. 

But you allowed your boyfriend to be virtually stolen, as the entourage of lesbians had plans to whisk you away to get something in your system for the night. Though, without his presence for reassurance, you were conscious of what you could manage, and kept it light enough for your body to buzz with relaxation. Eventually, your strength was able to pry away your phone from the sweaty hands of Steve Harrington, but not before his booze breath pervaded you with the stern information that he was in charge of you for the night, as per request of Eddie Munson. But, with pupils dilated like his, distractions being as easy as beautiful ladies walking by, and the atrocity of his outfit that left no room for seriousness (or the imagination, for that matter), Nancy Wheeler threw you the responsible look of understanding that she’d cover that shift. 

By the dead of night, you’d succumb to the rhythm of the music, and let your body fall to the beats that vibrated your soul with liberation. With bodies decorated in costumes swaying against you from every direction, you never minded the tease of a hand brushing your skin. Packed like sardines in the humidity of an October party, accidents were bound to occur. 

But accidents don’t repeat.

And when fingers started squeezing, your head whipped around, only to catch what was a glimpse of a masked man slipping away. Through the beer goggles you harbored, you blinked at what looked far too familiar for your liking, but between dancing silhouettes and blinding strobe lights, your drunken mind couldn’t confirm what you didn’t want to know.

“Hey, you alright?” Robin’s breath fanned against your cheek, as she pulled your attention from the blank directions you were staring into.

You dryly swallowed. “Um, yeah…” Spoken far too unconvincing for your friend. “Just, uh, Steve wouldn’t let, like, um, underclassmen in, right?” 

“What, no, why?” She invited. “Shit, don’t tell me Dustin and the little rugrats are here!” Her sporadic eyes started bouncing from corner to corner. 

“No, no.” You brushed off her concerns, before they amplified to the degree of telling Nancy Wheeler. “Just thought I saw another freshman or sophomore, like, one of the Stafford twins.”

At the mention of the name, her eyes rolled on cue. “Those little shits? Yeah, wouldn’t put it past them to try to crash.”

Robin Buckley hadn’t known just how relieving those words were to you. With a solidified threat entailing your boyfriend, you could control the tiresome plague of teenage boys. But a pit in your stomach lingered where you didn’t like, as you briefly looked over your shoulder, but nothing but blended bodies blurred your vision in a haze. You took a deep breath, swiping the sweat that beaded along your hairline.

Clinging to her tie, you pulled Robin close to tell her of your departure for another drink. While allowing you to do so, her instructions of “not too much” trailed behind, landing on defiant ears. Your thrown thumbs-up was a lie, as more booze was felt necessary to rid that precedent feeling that still stiffened your hairs in apprehension. Because the what if's were beginning to outweigh the most likely occurrence; that it was someone dangerous stalking you, not one of the Staffords or their peers.

Navigating passed figures, your heels clicked against the kitchen tiles of the Harrington household, where sparse bodies littered about; a pause to the intensity of the late Halloween hour. 9:57 P.M, blinding you against the photo of your boyfriend, as your eyes blinked to adjust to the harshness of your phone screen. 

Holding up ok baby

Awaiting you for the past seventeen minutes, you clicked his message, and scrambled to respond, before any concerns were drawn from your stagnation. 

Yup, yup! Pretty packed, so I’ma getting a drink.

Your buzzing, inebriated mind conjured back. And within the pause of a couple seconds, the bubbles of his response appeared. You frowned. The image of Eddie bored out of his mind, surrounded by the cold metal of the mechanic shop, with nothing but fumes and grease tormenting his body had pestered your mind with guilt. 

Are you okay? 

Bored?

Would you bea ble to come? Now!

Leave it to your intoxication to interrupt his pending bubble. Though, there was never a care on his end. A smile always invaded his face when you were on the other line.

I’m ok sweetheart 

Not too much to drink ok

Not yet baby got some cars still needing a fix but I’ll try to make it as soon as possible

I love you

Your shoulders slumped with the huff that exasperated from you. You shoved your way past the drunks that habited the cooler, as you pried a beer bottle from the ice. Too annoyed to deal with the water droplets that froze your hand against the glass, you settled on plucking a cup from the stack.

 😡

I love you, TOO!

With a groan of all your strength, you popped the cap against the counter, letting the metal clink against the floor. You watched with blank eyes, as the amber liquid aggressively swished within the plastic, hearing the echo of your breath pounding against your ear. But, in the matter of a second, the hairs of your neck shot with heightened alarm, your heart following soon after with a beat anxiously faster than before. 

You stood frozen, your eyes darting, but ultimately losing to the depth of blackness surrounding you. Nothing. It had to be nothing. 

Until the air from your nose fell motionless, and your chest became inert. 

The breathing… continued. It was never yours to begin with. 

You swallowed thickly, before whipping behind you, flinching back at the staunch build of the man in black. In an eerie contrast, his blindingly white mask scrutinizes your wavering frame. 

Your mouth fell open to his arm that shamelessly came around your waist, and suddenly your hands were shoving against the density of his chest to pry him off. “You pig!” The words involuntarily flew from your mouth to spite him. In retrospect, seeing the broadness of his shoulders run along the towering height of his stature should have been enough confirmation that what you were dealing with was far beyond the likes of a juvenile teenager, but with a drunken mind fueled with vexation, you lost the necessity to see clearly. “Touch me again, and I’ll have you thrown out, asshole!” You spat back.

In an attempt to put an end to all of this, your hand gravitated towards his mask, hoping to peel off the confidence that cloaked his cowardness. But as your fingertips grazed the plastic, his gloved hands snatched a harsh hold of your wrist, forcing a gasp to be caught within your throat, as you flinched back. 

Nothing but the black eyes of his mask pierced your soul, as he stood silent, his hand flexing cruelly against your skin. 

Your chest heaved with the rapid beat of your heart, as it took all your strength to release yourself from his restraints. You quickly grabbed your drink and phone, not wasting a second to run away from the man, who did nothing but watch you run off in the blur of the crowd. 

Much to his dismay, it was you dragging Steve Harrington away from the pretty lady that was giggling her way into his bedroom later tonight. “W…What the h-hell?” He hiccupped. 

“Can you kick that person out?!” Your urgency came with your aggressive finger pointing towards his kitchen. “God, they’re being creepy and weird, a-and they were, uh, they were touching me-”

“Okay, okay, just take a breath.” Steve calmed you through your inebriated panic. “What guy? What person?”

Because when Steve Harrington followed the trail of your finger, it all led to the emptiness of his kitchen. Nothing but the casual partygoers, who did nothing but huddle in the corner, nursing their drinks. “Him… uh, h-” You squinted the hazy booze from your vision, but no matter how harsh the blinks were, he was gone. “H-He was just there. The, um, the Scream mask guy, y’know? Him?!”

“I- Y/N,” he really tried to give you the grace of understanding, but with liquor coursing through his body, and the clash of your consternation with the thudding of the booming music, Steve Harrington could hardly process the events unfolding before him, “the Scream mask guy?”

“Yes!” You forced out with frustration. 

Steve blinked. “There’s, like, fifteen people wearing Scream masks, Y/N.” Your eyes fluttered to your surroundings, hitting every corner of the Harrington residence, where Halloween truly brought out the most lethargic efforts of a costume: Scream masks. Steve watched your face fall in defeat, as his hand ran over his face in guilt. “Hey, look, just stick with us, okay? No more walking on your own. If they come back, you get me, o-or Nance, Robin, okay? Anyone.”

Steve’s eyes didn’t let up, until your head slowly nodded to his words. 

“And tell Eddie, before he fucking kills me.” Steve sighed, fanning his breath out. While you could appreciate his concern, you weren’t so keen on the babysitting nature of Steve Harrington’s efforts that he just couldn’t resist, as he guided you to the corner of the couch, and told you to stay put.

Effortlessly, Steve was able to maneuver his way back into the ropes of his rendezvous, all while a pout brandished your face, as you watched the rest of your friends unreservedly lose themselves to the night. 

Your thumb hovered over Eddie’s contact. 

Surely, the news would be broken to him, regardless, yet the dread of doing so still came with some hesitation, as you knew your boyfriend would be fuming in the lonesome of a garage, forcibly unable to focus on the work at hand, as he worried about you. And with the distance at play, it’d anger him beyond recognition, and despite not being his faults, he’d take it as so; not being there when needed, that is. 

Please don’t ger all weird and mad…!

You’d imagine that incoming pang of your message alarmed him, given how quickly those bubbles were to appear. His messages hurdling even faster. 

What the hell happened

Are you ok

weird? What weird? I don’t get weird

HELLO? 

Baby you have 5 seconds to respond

Your thumbs twiddled quickly to appease his inevitable worrisomeness. 

Someones being creepy at Steve's. 

Like, bothering me and trying to touch.

Me

And it’s really pissing me off. I had to tell them off just so they could back off. I’m sitting on Steve’s couch now.

And you could read his impending responses from a mile away. Because when it came to you, it was inescapable. 

I’ll be there

And that’s all it took for you to lurch forward in your seat, and risk the opportunity of catching a cramp in your hands, as your fingers took a tight clutch to your brightening phone screen. If it wasn’t for the music, nothing but the clacking of the digital keyboard would have infested your ears. 

No! 

No, Eddie, really, it’s okay!

I already got it handled. I told Steve, and he said he’d kick them out if they tried it again. I’m okay, really.

Don’t leave, Boomer will be angry with you. I don’t wan you to get in trouble because of me :(

Christ, you had just wanted to Monster Mash. But with hot bodies having no regard for your space, as harassment entailed you throughout night, and now the potential of a heavy admonishment waiting for Eddie from Boomer should he leave, nothing but a disappointed scowl danced across your face. And while you could appreciate the kindness of your boyfriend’s heart- really, you could, you could also find frustration in your boyfriend’s lack of awareness for consequences. Because, yes, it was unfathomably sweet when Eddie rushed to your side, when you simply texted him about the pains of your period. Though, what followed was an angry boss, who chastised Eddie for leaving in the middle of his job, only to punish him with a closing shift on your anniversary date.

Not fun. 

And with Cedars Evergreen Farm opening itself from the daily pumpkin patch to a nightly movie drive-in, Eddie had promised you an intimate date in the back space of his van, and you’d be damned if you lost your date night to the consequences of his actions. Eddie Munson had to stay.

The bubbles appeared. 

Stay with Nancy.

A period. Eddie Munson never punctuated. In fact, run-on sentences were his specialty. 

I mean it Y/N.

But, at the very least, you could relax—somewhat—with the knowledge that his profession and your date weren’t compromised on the night of Halloween. Your fingers typed away.

I won’t! Swears! <333333

I love you so much!!!

Ransacking through tubes of lip gloss and a tin of Altoids, your compact was pulled from the clutter of your purse, before it flipped to showcase your tipsy reflection. Aside from the minimal perspiration that smudged the edges of the patterned spots, you looked the cutest you could despite the night you endured, and some handsy delinquent with no manners wasn’t going to ruin that for you. 

Call me if something happens I’ll be there eventually stay safe and kick his ass if he does something else

Just kill him baby. 

Honestly.

I will eventually so what does it matter if you get to him first :)

As he always managed to do, even when not present, you giggled at the vulgarity of his words. With the tip of your finger, you cleaned up the imperfect smears of your makeup, before smacking your lips together with a lather of your seductive plum gloss. With a zhuzh of your hair here and there, you stood from your miserable place on the couch, choosing to ignore the chastising gasp from Steve Harrington, as you made your way to the girls. 

The audacious woman she was, Nancy Wheeler had wasted no time securing her hand around your wrist. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her voice amplified over the music. “Steve told me what happened.”

Though her stern eye was cold, you eased her worries with a flail of your hand, throwing something along the lines of “Eddie knows,” because if Eddie Munson knows, it’s taken care of.

Shoving the bothersomes of the night to the back of your mind, you graced the buzzing music with a warm welcome, as your body danced with the likes of Boygenius, and their carefree moves that came about with a burning cup of booze.

If Eddie Munson couldn’t be there to experience the thrills of Halloween—perhaps, being punished by running off kids who attempted to vandalize the garage; true karma—then, at the very least, you could retell the events with the blur of photos that claimed your photo album for the night. 

-

As the hours passed, your vision succumbed to the haze of alcohol that electrified your body. Strobe colors blended with the movement of strangers’ figures, and time seemed to slow, leaving you vulnerable to the predators that preyed upon you.

You saw him. Or maybe him. Every turn of your head, your eyes gazed upon the white mask that haunted your vision. In every corner. In every direction. But the liquor on your lips left your mouth numb and impuissant to the party your body craved, entrapping you in a defenseless state against his terror. 

You watched from outside of your body, as your limbs betrayed you to the laxness of your inhibitions. 

And through the darkness of your surroundings, you watched that taunting face creep closer and closer with every dragging blink of your eyes.

Robin Buckley twisted to the heavy hand on her shoulder.

Your pupils were blown out. “I-I need to use the bathroom.” Your tongue lapped at the dryness of your lips that cracked under your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” She shouted over the music, but your head insisted otherwise with drunken fervency. 

“I’m j-just” hiccup “gonna call Eddie.” You steadied yourself on wobbly ankles. “Had too much to drink, I-I’ll call him to pick,” hiccup “pick me up.” To hell with Boomer.

Robin’s warm thumbs swept under the smudged eyeliner that rimmed your eyes, with sparkles that once was packed onto your lid now dancing along the highlights of your cheek. She regulated you with a small smile. “Don’t wait alone, okay? Come back here when you’re done.”

You nodded slowly to appease your gnawing headache. 

One step at a time, your surroundings seemed to slow, as your vision tunneled to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Feeling like a mile away, your fingernails grazed the smooth surface of the floral wallpaper that clung to the Harrington abode to anchor you for the trek, as drunk bodies alike shoulder checked you with no regard. 

When you felt the clank of your heels against the linoleum, your breath released with all tension, as the door slammed behind you shut, and you relished in the warped quietness the secluded bathroom was able to proffer you.

Flicking the light switch on had your head pounding and eyes harshly binding closed. 

The toilet creaked under the weight of your slumped body, as you blinked your vision straight to find an array of messages awaiting you. 

Feeling okay baby? I’m lonely without you sweetheart these cars are boring me half to death need to see you soon or I’ll die

Finishing up soon, you doing alright baby

Heading out sweetheart

I’ll be there in a couple minutes

You sighed in relief, fumbling to click his contact, and letting the ringing line massage your head. “Hey, princess.”

The static of his grumbly voice pacified your racing heart from an alcoholic adrenaline rush. “Eds.” You exhaled in peace. 

“Y/N.” You could make out the smile that lingered on his lips, as his tongue spoke your name. “Get my message? I’m heading over as soon as I get changed- and don’t get on me just yet, I haven’t started driving, so I’m not putting myself in danger.” He laughed. You always were quite serious with that ‘One Text or Call Could Wreck it All’ motto- well, at least, with Eddie Munson you were. He didn’t have an extensive relationship with the Hawkins PD for no reason.  

“No!” You whined into the call, lips pouting to their fullest extent. 

“No?”

Composing yourself, you settled into a deep breath. “Don’t change. J-Just come get me.” Your voice managed to mumble a response. 

“What’s the matter? Something happen? Are you okay?” His voice swore into your ear, the vigilance of it so prudent with protectiveness. 

Your hot palm smashed against your cheek in exhaustion. “Just drank too much. Got caught up, and now I’m too- I don’t wanna be here without you. Wanna go home.” Your slurred words bleated. The staticness of his sigh rang out in a heavy breath, and you knew an upbraid was to be waiting for you the next morning, after he kissed you okay with Tylenol and a hearty breakfast. Eddie Munson always did have a knack for setting you up for the keelhaul that disguised itself in affection. Really, the only time the adult man showed responsibility. “No mean words.” You fussed. “Not now, at least.”

“No mean words, baby.” Eddie soothed. “Okay, just give me a few minutes, alright? I’m leavin’ as we speak. Harrington’s house is not too far, should be around Mirkwood in five.” You nodded, despite the on call conversation. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Eds, five minutes.” You ignored the dull ache of your toes, as you conquered standing on straight feet. “Thank you, baby.”

A chuckle huffed through his nose. “No need, sweetheart, just no more drinking, okay? No goodbye shot with Robin or Stone Cold.”

You absentmindedly giggled at the image of Steve Harrington. “Okay.” You sighed. “No shots with Stone Cold.”

“Atta girl.” He smiled. “Alright, just hang tight for me, shouldn’t be long.”

“I love you.” Your breath dragged on.

“I love you way more, so you lose.” Eddie could vividly picture the pout that etched itself onto your mouth. 

And it was his laughter that you last heard, as your jutted lips grumbled a “meanie,” before hanging up, because in your drunken stupor, that competition felt like a real loss. 

Turning to the mirror, you flinched at the state of your look. Luckily, Steve Harrington had no plans of having a lights-on party. Rummaging through his family’s unmentionables, you pummeled a fistful of cotton swabs onto the counter, drenching each end with the sink’s faucet of water. 

A bit of coldness brought some release to your hot face, as you followed the edges of the painted black spots that smudged with the perspiration of your skin. But in a blink of a second, the bathroom door rattled with a single bang. 

Your face twisted in confusion, your body stopping as you waited.

But silence was all that met you, and you blinked your eyes close to think straight. 

Steve Harrington’s house was packed with fifty plus strangers and acquaintances, all who whooped and hollered with an all you can drink display. It wasn’t irrational for a drunken body to collide against a door or wall in an attempt to seek a bedroom.

You sighed, continuing your task of trying to look slightly presentable. But Steve Harrington’s bathroom door didn’t hold up to another aggressive knock that left its hinges vibrating with the harsh hit. 

You swallowed thickly, aiming to ignore the hairs that stood across your body.

“S-Someone’s in here.” But a suffocating atmosphere of pure quietude was all that came in response.

Goosebumps terrorized your skin, as your chest heaved with the heavy seconds it took to wait for something- anything to occur. You quickly discarded the stained cotton swabs, before slowly approaching the door. 

Your trembling hand gently caressed the brass of the golden door knob, and with a swift swing…

Nobody.

To the right of the hall, the blackness led to the shed of light, where all party goers gathered in the setting of the living room. Your shoulders slumped with relief. 

And to the left-

Your heart plummeted. Heavy breathing echoed from his mask, as his built towered over your stature. The grotesque intimidation shot your eyes sober, as your stomach heaved with the terrifying sensation that consumed you. 

Pathetic whimpers poured from your mouth, as you took caution steps back, only for him to follow with each movement. 

Screw waiting. 

The epinephrine from his bone-chilling presence detoxed your body dispassionately, as your legs found the momentum to run away into the crowd. 

Yet, as you looked back, he all but laid back and watched, as he stood in place, taunting you with no effort. Almost getting off on how easily you scared.

But you weren’t going to be a part of his game anymore. Halloween was over as of 12:14 A.M. You were going home.

Shoving past interlopers, you scoured your way to the less densely populated area of the back patio. Stragglers were all that occupied the darkened backyard, lingering on outdoor loungers, surely tainting Mrs. Harrington’s cushions with cigarette smoke and beer stains alike. 

“Hey! Where’s your boy toy tonight? Been wanting to buy!” You barely acknowledged the slurred voice of a prospective customer, as your attention became engrossed with watching the dancing bodies through the glass door. 

For a mask. 

You barely spared him. “Not here.”

But not a flash of white in sight. 

The grumble of his buddies reverberated, as maybe for once, you’d be left alone for the night. 

“Well, then, can I get something from you?” The crudeness of his smirk was palpable without you needing to turn around. The whistling of his friends only fueled the anger more. “How ‘bout just a handy for double of what your boyfriend offers for a half ounce?”

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, screw waiting. “Fuck off.” 

Taking the graveled path by the gardens to reach the sidewalk, you shook off the residing anger of perverted boys and creepy stalkers, and sucked in the chilled air that the night brought forth.  

“Ugh, stupid people, stupid party,” and as the universe would have it, your ankle bent against the icing on the cake—a pebble, “ah, and these stupid fucking shoes!” You exasperated with a juvenile stomp to your foot. 

Luckily, the Harrington manor had the luxury of wooded solitude, where bystanders lacked, giving you the freedom of unleashing your annoyances with grumbles that would have had late night joggers crossing the street to avoid your strangeness. 

“This party sucks.” Your mouth groused, fingers typing fervently. “Couldn’t stand to wait, I had to leave.” The owl hooted, and crickets chirped. Nothing but the point of your heel scraping against the concrete sidewalk to accompany the midnight songs. “How far are you? I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.”

This party sucks! 😠

Couldn’t stand to wait, I HAD to leave!

How far are you?

I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.

In the year and some months change spent as Eddie Munson’s special lady friend—as he loved to say—you’d never once had to grapple with the nonchalant facade boys your age seemed infected with. No, your Eddie was never one to shy away from fast texting, hell, even double- no triple- no quadruple texting. He liked you, very much so, of course, he was going to show it. Even if it came in his uniquely Eddie ways. How the hell was waiting four hours to respond under the guise of being “busy” supposed to turn you on?! Eddie Munson had one goal, and it was to make you his girlfriend. To hell with slow texters! 

And yet… the bubbles never appeared. 

But with how clouded your mind had become with the turn of events the night took, you carped to yourself, clicking your phone off with an agitated slam of your finger, and continued your trek with hunched shoulders and a down spirit. 

Crushing leaves and kicking rocks was all you could succumb to in the face of boredom, as the hope of hearing that god awful exhaust with its metal music to pair driving down the street only grew stronger with every ache of your toes. 

“Of course, of course! All this would happen to me.” Contrary, conversing with yourself seemed to be the only semblance of sanity for you at the moment. “Should’ve just gone trick-or-treating. Should’ve just staked out with my dad.” Ah, yes, who was still, in fact, located behind your mother’s shrubbery, cocking his head at every giggle a passing teenager made. “Ugh, stupid boys!” The bane of your existence. You stomped with anger, “Hate everything,” you huffed. “Hate these shoes,” oh, how you would apologize to them when the time was right, “hate these clothes, hate my life-”

You slowed your steps. Confused.

The ribbit of a frog leaping from lily pad to lily pad was all too familiar with the great puddles that dampened the forest environment. The pine trees, too, did their usual of entangling their branches in hugs with one another, as the midnight draft brought them closer. 

Normal. Everything was sounded normal… except… the whistling. 

No, not the rustle of wind, or the buzz of cicadas, but the sinister taunt of his hunt.

Your head whipped behind you, where your eyes rounded at his silhouette that drowned under the single flickering street lamp. 

Whistling. Preying. 

Your legs started without a moment’s notice. Though, your platforms only allowed for such limited speed, as you hastily dialed Eddie’s contact. Every impending ring sank your heart deeper and deeper, as the pit of your stomach felt as though it was going to collapse in on itself. His whistling only a few feet away. “Hey, it’s Eddie-”

“Eddie?!”

“Or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hint.” 

“Ugh!” Frustration hung up the phone, as you no longer found the charm in his childish voicemail greeting. “God, just pick up.” Your steps quickened to a slow jog. “Pick up, pick up.”

The ringing had simply become torment to you now. “Hey, it’s Eddie… Or is i-”

You whined in exasperated disbelief. 

“Fuck.” The whispers of your dread passed through your lips, as a stolen glance back only confirmed the proximity of which he managed with ease. Two jogs forward was a simple step for him.

Your chest heaved under the mounting pressure and the fear that tore your stomach to shreds. Your legs felt numb against the terror, and suddenly, your eyes were clamping shut with wishful thinking that all of this was just an unbearable nightmare, because through your quickening breaths, the heavy steps of his boots sounded closer… and closer…

-

Nothing but a flood of trees swallowed your surroundings, as his taut grasp of your body forced you into the dark abyss of a desolate forest.

Your throat ached at the screams that ultimately surrendered to a deadened buzz against his hand, as nothing but the crunch of leaves that snapped under his weight was all that could be heard in a miles radius. 

With an elbow to his ribs and a kick to his shin, you gave it all your might to escape from his clutches, but your efforts never came to fruition, as the skin of your body became pinned to the scraping bark of a tree. 

His heavy breathing rang against his mask, as his face taunted yours, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, as snot congested your wails. “Aw, don’t cry, my little… heifer.”

Slowly, your nails relented from his arm, and your eyes turned to bore into the black ones that adorned his mask. “Eds…?” His loosening fingers around your mouth allowed your whisper to speak. In a moment of clarity, his smell became all too dear of cigarettes and cedar spice. Your Eddie. “W-Wha… Eddie, wait, what’s g-”

Though, as your body began to fall slack under the ease of his familiarity, his sinister laugh only mocked your moment of vulnerability, as he exploited your weakness to have his heavy body pressed against your backside.  

“Oh, what a sweet body to slaughter.” The depth of his voice had your heart now beating with something more than fright. “You wanna make it to the sequel, baby?”

Because suddenly, the night of September 4th came to memory. 

Nana Munson’s—may her soul rest in misery (an avid believer of corporal punishment against a rowdy seven-year-old Eddie Munson)—couch had fallen to the impressions of both yours and Eddie’s body, as the Saturday evening brought laziness against your energy. Secured between his legs with your back falling lax against his chest, your eyes lulled to the scratches Eddie provided to your underboob against the imprints of your now discarded bra.

But the cries of Tatum Riley, as she capitulated to her death by garage door, had blinked your eyes awake. “Think it was Stu?” Your face scrunched under the sudden loudness of his voice. Much to his credit, though, Eddie hadn’t been aware of your drowsiness. 

“Huh?”

“Y’think Stu killed Tatum?” He reiterated. 

Your brows furrowed. “No way, that was his girlfriend.”

His chuckle reverberated from his chest. “Clearly, that didn’t mean shit.” Spoken truthfully, as her lifeless body dangled above. “But surely he had to be the one takin’ the reins on that one, he set her up.”

“Set it up, sure. But killing her? Nuh-uh.” Eddie laughed at your definitive state. “He had the whole party to host, someone would’ve noticed him missing. Plus, no one was expecting Billy to even be there, giving him the most perfect opportunity to do it.” You disseminated factually.

“Okay, okay, so wait.” Eddie cleared his throat. “You’re saying Billy snuck inside the house, then back outside, and just went all the way around like that, hiding the costume n’ all, to kill her? Someone totally would’ve seen him.”

With a debate at hand, you attempted to sit up, but his greedy hands held you back, wanting to continue to seek solace in the body heat your boobs generated. “Okay, it’s odd-”

“Really odd.”

“But, Billy’s calculated, y’know.” You retaliated. “If either of them are going to pull it off, it’s going to be Billy. You know how, like, clumsy Stu is. He couldn’t have done it.”

Eddie dramatically brushed you off with a pestering psh. “You’re just sayin’ all that, ‘cause you like Matthew Lillard.”

“Please, everyone knows Billy killed Tatum.” You laughed. “This has nothing to do with Matthew Lillard being hot- ow!”

His nimble fingers squeezed at your pebbling nipples, as he menacingly chuckled in your ear. “Swear, I’ll put on that fucking mask and have my way with you if I hear you call another dude hot.” But oh, how that thought, itself, was already having its way with you. Wriggling in his embrace, your actions did not go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as he eyed the rub of your thighs. “Oh, you like that!” He smirked.

“What?” You squeaked, fighting through the endeavor of avoiding the eyes that tried so hard to look into yours. “No, I don’t. Y-You freak.” But the heat of your face was palpable, and Eddie reveled in the bashful embarrassment that he could elicit within you.

“Oh, you so do, baby.” He sneered in your face, the silver of his rings stimulating goosebumps on the canvas of your skin, as his hands cupped your fullness. “Hm, want me to fuck you with that mask?”

You whined at his words. “Eddie.” 

“That’s honestly hot as fuck, y’know?” His voice dripped with arousal, as his hands roamed your belly. “Letting me fuck you to spare you, fuck, throw in that knife you like. Begging for you life, shit.”

And with that hand of his sneaking between your legs, who were you to remember a one-off conversation from over a month ago?

The trunk of the tree bit at your cheek, as he forcefully affixed your body to the rough surface. Cold metal clashed against your thigh, and suddenly the scrape of a blade was shooting chills through your body; his pocket knife. “Ugh,” his groans intensified, as his hand got lost under the ruffle of your skirt, letting your clothed cunt be teased by the sharp edge, “the things I could do to you. And not a single soul would hear. Not your screams. Not your cries. Just completely at my mercy.”

You gasped at the unforeseen slice that ripped your panties in two, forcing the ruined lace to be soiled in the ground below you; the night’s draft now blowing against the flooding wetness of your exposed folds. “Please.” His laughs were all that met your pleas. “D-Don’t hurt me.”

Oh, what a fantasy come true. 

Your teeth pierced into your swollen lip, as the flat edge of Eddie’s knife abruptly pressed into your clit, its coldness sending shockwaves to the hot bundle of nerves that had your hips driving back onto his pulsating bulge. 

“Don’t hurt you?” He mocked. “Oh, but how fun would it be if I did. Huh, my little calf?” The fear that stirred in your belly was only able to ease for a second, as his sharp blade finally left your core, but only to trace the skin of your naval. “To bruise your skin, break your morale, violate your body- ugh, this pretty, little body.” His knife severed your tiny shirt in two, expelling your breasts. Eddie’s gloved hand then bunched your skirt at the hip, letting the cool zephyr nip at your naked body. “God, look at that.” His harsh hand groped your ass, pulling your cheeks from one another to see the glistening of your pussy under the moonlight. “And I can just do anything with it, huh?”

“I’ll do a-anything, I-I- just please, I’ll let you do anything, just let me go-”

“Oh, no, baby, look at you.” Eddie’s stature followed down your squirming figure. “You’re never leaving me.” Before you could get a word in, his strength brought you to your knees, your skin digging into the dirt and discarded panties of the ground. In a flash, his knife pressed to your tensing neck, as his mask stared you down from his height. “You better fucking show me how much you think your life is worth.”

Your manicured hand wasted no time to undo the metal clasp of his belt, as Eddie sighed at the relief his throbbing cock felt from the confined restraints of his jeans. Precum drenched his boxers wet, and behind that mask, your boyfriend smiled at the delicate kisses you offered to his body, despite the debauched scene at hand. 

His cock sprung with an angry tip targeting your face, and your graceful fingers found themselves scratching at the unruly curls of his pubs, before wrapping around his girth to pull back to the sticky skin of his cock. 

“Mm!” You moaned, as you tongued at his head, collecting the budding seed that oozed from his hole. 

His hands didn’t hesitate to grapple onto your scalp, bringing you forth with dramatic moans, as his pocket knife rested against the plumpness of your cheek. “Ooh, fuck, yes.” His teeth clenched tightly. “Shove it down your fucking throat like your life depends on it.”

Your tongue salivated along the underside of his dick, as your lips latched onto his length, constraining you to take all you could of him. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, coating him in your spit that allowed your slick hands to jerk him with burning friction. His hips couldn’t help but drive forward, and he selfishly ignored the chokes that restricted your throat taunt, merely giving him something tighter to fuck. 

“God, let me trash that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” His hairs tickled your nose, as a mess of spit and precum slung from his cock to your chin. Hollowing your cheeks had Eddie’s mewls echoing from his mask, as your eyes peered up lovesick at the sight of his bruteness taking all he felt was his.

He tapped your cheek disrespectfully, forcing you off his cock, only for his heavy hand to shove your head lower. “C’mon, you know what to fucking do, you fucking slut. You wanna live? You wanna go back to your boyfriend?” He laughed, playing his part menacingly. “You wanna be able to suck him off with that same fucking mouth you sucked mine with, you better make me fucking feel good, or you’ll be no use dead in the woods.” 

Your mouth locked onto his heavy set balls that shoved itself in your face, and you suckled at the velvet skin, pulling it from his body, and feeding it into your mouth with whines of satisfaction. Your wet muscle tickled his legs numb, with his knees buckling at the massage he forced out of you. 

And inch by inch, your tongue teased the expanse of his taint, until he felt it prod at his pulsating hole, and he forced your face deeper between his thighs, as nothing but his cock and balls swallowed your face. “You dirty fucking whore, ugh!”

Such an intimate spot, his musk invaded your senses with nothing but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie flooding your surroundings. His thick thighs suffocating your face; his leg hairs nipping at your cheeks; his balls smashing against your nose; his cock leaking on your forehead. There was no leaving Eddie Munson. 

He consumed you. 

“Dirty that fucking face, shit, m’gonna make that pretty fucking face filthy!” Eddie rode your face, forcing your tongue to plunge into your tight asshole, as you tried to keep up with his rough movements. “Eat my fucking ass, all your worth doing—shit, shit, fuck, I’m gonna—shove your fucking tongue in there!” 

Your nails clawed at his thighs, branding red streaks to bleed against his pale skin. 

But unexpectedly, you were rammed onto the dirt with a gasp of surprise leaving your mouth, as his barbaric strength manhandled you onto your tummy, blatantly ignoring your struggles.

His heavy weight suppressed your body to your ground, as his merciless hand came around your jaw, squeezing your face. “Smile, baby, big fucking smiles.” Eddie forced your lips to pucker. “Want nothing but smiles outta you while everything is happening. Show me how pretty you are- how happy you are to have me violate you, how much you love this.”

You felt his dense cock poke at the globes of your ass. “You gonna be a good fucktoy, and let me ruin these holes, huh? Not going to make a noise? Not going to tell anyone? Yeah?” You whimpered at the thick head to pried your sticky lips apart, catching your clit, only to glide back to your sopping entrance that clenched with need. “And I’ll let you live, I’ll let this pretty body live. Yeah? Go back to your boyfriend, but you’ll still be mine, no? When you’re leaving his, I’ll take you on the street. In the middle of night, when your clueless parents are asleep. When you just want to live in peace, but I’ll be there to wreck it, because this body’s mine. It’s all mine.” 

His cock intruded your pussy. “Ah! Yes, yes! Make me take it!” Dirt stuck beneath your nails, as you attempted to cling onto the ground. 

“Fuck!” Eddie bleated, as he fell balls deep, flushed to your back. “My fucking play thing.” He punctuated with a rough thrust. “My fucking pussy to use.” 

With seven inches pumping deep, the ridges of his cock rubbed against your sensitive g-spot, as your cunt stroked him of his precum; a ring of your mixing cream flooded at his base to splash his naval dirty. Your arm managed to snake back, pushing the endeavor to slow his hips from the rapid pace he was fucking at, but his hands shut down your futile attempts.

“Nuh-uh!” He masked pressed to your face, your arm now pinned to your ground. “You said make you take it, you’re gonna fucking take it!” Eddie’s guttural voice vibrated against your ear. 

“Y-Yes! Whatever you say! Please!” Your neck ached with the stretch Eddie was forcing to keep your head up. “Use me! Need you to use me!”

The veins of his cock were hammering with desire, as all his blood pumped to his groin to keep it hard until it got the release it was begging for. And he did all to get you there, as your walls were quivering around his length, your cries bleeding through the tight hold his hand kept to your jaw. The woodland creatures of Hawkins, Indiana were perking their ears at the wails of what they could only infer was an innocent critter being preyed upon; not too far from truth. 

Your soft walls kept him warm against the biting chill of the night, and by the way your back was arching to shove your ass deeper into his pelvis could only mean you, too, were selfishly begging to satiate that aching need.

“Mm, fuck! Look at that ass.” He peered to see the fat of your cheeks recoiling against the snap of his hips. “This fucking ass and cunt- such a dirty, little fucking cunt.” His chest peeled from you, as cold wind satisfyingly blew against the sweat that marinated between your hot bodies.

The leather of his gloves stung against your cheek, as his heavy hand came to spank your jiggling roundness, while he moaned at witnessing the length of his cock get lost in the crevice of your ass. Peeling them apart, he eyed your winking hole, and propelled his hips forward, so your neglected asshole could get a tickle of his pubic hair, as he ground himself against you. 

Your skin slapped together so violently in the waking hour of early November. Writhing beneath his body weight, your body could only hold back for so long, before you succumbed to your needs. 

“So fucking sick in the head, y’know that? Such a pretty face with such a sick head.” Eddie’s hand came to constrict your throat, thumbs digging into your pulse points. “You love this, love me abusing you, abusing this filthy fucking pussy—augh, shit, shit!” His cock twitched under the clenching of your cunt that fluttered from his degradation. “I’ll defile it until no one wants you- no one but me! But fucking me!”

He jackhammered in dick mercilessly, until your hole clamped shut around him; your nipples scraping against the dirt with every drill of his hips. “C-Can’t—ahh—take it anymore! Too much! Stop!”

“Mm! You can hate this as much as you want, but your slutty body fucking loves it.” His fingers found themselves on your thudding clit, harshly circling it with the soft material of his gloves. “Cum for me, baby, cum on fucking cock!”

The muscles in your stomach were cramping, as the pressure was mounting against your core. Eddie’s muffled moans were proliferating by the seconds, and his wet balls were seizing against your pussy, nearing the end of self-control. 

“I-I won't tell anybody, just let me cum! Please, please, please! No one, just between you and me!” Your pathetic blabbings had him laughing through the pain of his straining, aching cock.

Without a care for the tiny bugs that swarmed the dirt beneath you, your head dropped with the wails of your orgasm, as your body trembled with the overpowering sensations that wrecked your body lifeless. Your vision fell black, and all that could be heard was Eddie Munson’s fuzzy voice screaming with the release of ropes of cum that flooded your pussy full. 

Unable to kiss you with the barrier of a mask, Eddie did all but purr and meow, as he displayed his affection with clumsy headbutts, as your bodies fell slack in the middle of the woods. 

Slowly, as your vision came to be, and the blur was gone, your peripheral catched Eddie’s head menacingly turn, as he examined your lax state. And that laugh- that sinister laugh pooled your stomach with fear. “I’ll never be done breaking you.” 

Before you could protest, Eddie manipulated your lenient limbs, and knocked you onto your back with your heavy legs falling entrapped in his strong grip. Hoisted in the air, your oozing pussy opened up to him with your thighs pinned to your dirty chest. But you knew your body, sensitivity was buzzing deep within, and you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore.

Your weak hands ventured to slap his head away, but his strength overpowered you, and for the first time tonight, the mask came off. You bawled at the attachment of his full lips eating at your clit. “I’d love to send you back to your boyfriend with my babies stuffing you,” the vibrations rippled inside you, “but he’d know too much.”

Back and forth, his tongue trekked from flicking your bud, splitting you in half, and prodding at your tight asshole, where sticky arousal seeped into. “Augh! S-Sensitive, Eds!”

Eddie merely chuckled into your cunt, breaching it with the point of his tongue to lap all that flooding inside you. The tang of your pussy never tasted so good with his piquant cum, as his mouth ravished your opening, pulling and sucking your folds with the fervent shake of his head. Gluttony was committed with how unforgiving he was with gorging your wetness into his mouth, proceeding back to bully your bundle of nerves, until your body was jerking with trying to flee his inescapable hold.

“Stop! Eddie, I’m gonna- f-fuck, really, Eds, I can’t!” You tried to desperately plead, but if there was anything Eddie Munson loved more than you, it was actually just you completely at his mercy.

Consuming the cum from your pussy, your legs locked and trembled around his head, and instantly, warm liquid was inundating his mouth. Your cries from the aching release of your squirt bled sinfully with his moans from your taste, creating the most depraved music of your intimacy, as your eyes lost the will to focus on anything else, but the glowing moon against the night’s blackness. 

But in the haze of your inebriated mind, your boyfriend had crawled his body over yours, where mouths quickly connected. Only, the opening of his lips invited your squirt to soak onto your tongue. And it stayed there, swapping between your jaws, as both of you made fleeting attempts to consume each other with loving desire, until everything was swallowed from the intensity.

And all that was left was Eddie Munson smiling down at your blissed out face, his chin scintillating under the moon.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He caressed your face. “Would’ve just abducted you, but probing you felt more fun.” He teased at the irreparable damage done on your innocent cow costume.

You breathlessly laughed, refuting his words with an incredulous shake of your head. “Whatever happened to just asking me to take you to my leader?”

Eddie giggled, kissing you okay with delicate pecks that greatly contrasted from the lascivious events he put you through. He had sat up, degloving his hands—now drenched in perspiration from the confining heat—to brush away the specks of dirt that clung to your breasts. “Here, lift up for a second.” His now gentle hands helped guide the torn piece of clothing from your upper body, where the soft fabric now became a clean-up cloth for both your bodies. “I’ll get you new clothes,” Eddie groaned, seeking to squeeze his head from the hoodie that he took off, now proffering to you, “promise, sweets.”

“Help me up, don’t want a worm near my vagina.” He laughed at your whines, hands coming to entangle with yours, as a firm arm around your waist helped leverage you on wobbly legs. 

“Yeah, sorry for the lack of set up.” Eddie swiped the dirt off your bare butt. “Though, don’t think a nicely laid blanket and candles would have really fit the whole horny-violent-serial-killer vibe, y’know?”

“Well, duh. You can’t light candles in the woods, that’s dangerous.” Christ, you really were something to appreciate. “But, no, seriously, that was-” you eyed him excitedly with precious giggles, “that was really good. Like, better than anything I could have fantasized Stu Macher doing.” And felt the consequences of that joke with a sharp pinch to your ass. “Ah! Okay, okay!”

Eddie guffawed in your face, planting a searing kiss onto your hairline. “You’re insufferable, y’know that?” He hugged you tightly. “But you liked it? Not too much- hell, too little, you freak?”

“Nuh-huh, perfect!” You sweetly piqued, until you diverted with a swat to his chest. “But, Christ, Eddie, you really scared me! And lied to me! I thought some lunatic was following me!”

“Oh, come on, when have I ever let you go to some rager alone? A Halloween one, at that?” 

You pouted. “You made me hate Boomer just a little.” A guttural howl bubbled from him, as he went to pick up the discarded mask and pocket knife that was strewn about, your shirt and panties followed, gathered in his other hand. “And I have to throw these away.”

“Throw away?” His brow cocked, evidently in disbelief, as he examined your underwear. “Just because they’re sliced doesn’t mean they can’t be shown any love. Nothing I can’t add to the collection.” He smirked with a wink. 

“Damn it, Eddie, give me back my seamless ones, they’re the only ones I can wear with leggings without getting lines.” You remembered.

And his eyes couldn’t help but teasingly roll back. “Alright, alright, careful with the branches, baby.” Side by side, Eddie guided you through the wooded area, until the quiet sidewalk he once kidnapped you from came in sight under the yellow streetlights.

Though, while you two had your fun of kink exploration, unfortunately, your dear friends were nearly killing themselves over trying to find you three blocks away, plotting operation plans as to what may have occurred. Lying where it was once dropped, you grimaced at the piling text that bombarded you, when you picked your discarded phone.

Hey, I’m okay! Swear it, Eddie picked me up! So sorry! Was too drunk to stay and tell you! 😖

Hopefully, the off brand Lucy Dacus would be lenient enough to spare you for the night. You could face their wrath tomorrow.

“Oof, gotta spend the night with me, before Wheeler kills you.” Eddie’s nosy trait had him reading your messages over your shoulder. 

“It’s your fault! Ugh, you’re actually going to get me murdered!” You groaned, while all he could do was arrogantly smile at his work, until you abruptly stopped with a gasp. “You decided to sexually harass me all night instead of doing the Monster Mash with me?!” Christ, that pointed finger was so accusatory. 

Eddie’s hand flew up in defense. “Sweetheart, I swear I’ll give you all the Monster Mashing until Thanksgiving.”

“Y’know, I think this was all just your way of getting out of dressing up.” Your eyes squinted with the interrogation.

Oh, how you wanted to eat that sly grin away. “And fucking you? Yeah.”

“Ugh, you perv!” Eddie caught your hand before it could swat him, giving him the leverage to torpedo a swarm of open-mouth kisses to your face. “Okay, okay! Truce!” He combed your hair straight, chuckling at your disheveled state. “So, that was really you stalking me?”

“Yup.”

“At the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“In the kitchen?”

“Totally me, baby.”

“Outside my window?”

“Yea- wait, what?” Eddie flinched back in confusion. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Earlier today, when you came by. Y’know, watching me from my window?”

Eddie’s steps immediately came to a halt, as his face blended into concern. “Sweetheart, I never stood outside your window.” He declared. “Yeah, I came by, but seriously, your dad had just let me in. Who the fuck was at your window?”

You rejected the conversation, choosing to continue to walk. “Stop, Eddie, don’t scare me. You already have enough.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. I never stood outside your window.” Eddie Munson’s eyes were never one to genuinely lie. 

“M-Maybe it really was just some kid, then.” You rationalized. 

“Alright, look, let’s just really call it a night, and get home.” A protective arm secured you to his body. 

Because perhaps in the night, your drunken mind did notice two figures watching you that were simply chalked up to one. Maybe, the second one was the one watching from the corner, then from behind a tree. Maybe, it was the one that quietly stalked twenty feet behind with a knife that shined too brightly under the moonlight to ever be plastic.

Don’t you know couples who have sex on Halloween night are the first to die?

[lewisvinga]

my special girls | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; one of the greatest days in lewis’ life, his 104th win and the birth of his daughter.

warnings; mentions of pregnancy/labor, probs labor inaccuracies

word count; 1.4k

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; i need to see more lewis fics after 104th🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️BUT ALZKLALSSM 104TH THATS MY GOATTTT THATS WHY HE’S THE GOATT😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

masterlist !

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The Mercedes garage was tense, more tense than usual. The final laps of the British Grand Prix made everyone nervous and anxious. Lewis was just laps away from his 104th win.

Both George, who unfortunately had to retire due to issues with his car, and Carmen stood by a very anxious 9-month pregnant Y/n Hamilton. Although Lewis advised his wife to stay home due to how far along she was in her pregnancy despite it being his home race, she refused.

Carmen held onto her hand, their eyes focused on the screen as the final lap began. Although she was also upset with what happened to George, the couple couldn’t help but feel happy for the 7x world champion.

Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis drove around the final corners. Y/n didn’t notice anything happening around her, her focus completely on the screen.

‘Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix.’

Those 8 words the married couple longed to hear were finally being said. Y/n carefully but quickly jumped up from her seat, cheering loudly as her husband passed the checked flag. With one hand around her pregnant stomach and the other being thrown in the air while crying, she didn’t even notice the faint cramping in her abdomen.

The team rushed to meet up with Lewis, Carmen staying behind to help Y/n who slowly waddled behind the rushing team. She couldn’t hold back her tears as she watched her husband hugging his father in tears.

She stayed with the Spanish girl, not wanting to be within the grand crowd for safety reasons. Her vision was cloudy from tears. There were black smudges around her eyes as she carefully wiped her eyes to not mess up her cheeks.

Through her teary eyes, she could see the deep brown eyes she fell in love with years ago right in front of her.

Lewis carefully wrapped his arms around her, keeping a hand on her stomach. “My loves.” He whispered, pressing a kiss against her plump lips. “You both okay?

Y/n reaches up to carefully wipe the stray tears on his cheek. “Worrying about me after winning?” She teases through tears. “We’re fine and we’re so proud of you.” She cradled his face in her hands.

Only she knew how much Lewis had truly struggled after that day in 2021. She knew the mental anguish he went through whenever a race went poorly, so desperate to prove to others he was still as good as he was in his prime. She knew how hurt he had been with what was happening with Mercedes, wanting to spend his last season with the German team in a good way.

It seemed everything he had been through was worth it when Y/n revealed she was pregnant. Suddenly, everything didn’t matter. He just wanted to be there for his wife and child.

9 months later, he was washed over with a large wave of emotions as he passed the checkered flag knowing his pregnant wife was in the crowd.

“Gotta make sure my girls are okay,” Lewis mumbled, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Her long nails gently scratched his scalp. She hummed as she felt him press a kiss on her shoulder. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Y/n whispered back as he lifted his head from her hold. She gestured toward where the reporter was waiting for a quick post-race interview before the podium. “Go, my love, we’ll be waiting for you after you’re all done.”

With one last kiss, Lewis left her to do his post-race interview. She left with Carmen to slowly waddle walk back to the garage. She didn’t feel quite comfortable being part of the crowd during the podium celebration so she opted to watch from the TV in the garage.

They had barely made it back when Y/n suddenly felt another sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt a small puddle of liquid by her feet. Carmen and her look down at the puddle before making eye contact.

“The baby?” The Spanish girl questioned, trailing off when the pregnant woman nodded.

“Is coming.”

Lewis’s mother, Carmen, had kept a close eye on her daughter-in-law the entire day. She noticed the panicked look on both of the girls’ faces and rushed over to them. “Is everything alright, dear?”

“Her water broke.” The Spanish girl explained, keeping her hand interlocked with the laboring woman.

“Don’t tell Lewis yet. I want him to enjoy this day.” Y/n said in between deep breaths. Before either woman could protest, she added, “Do not test me right now. The contractions aren’t bad yet and I don’t want to go to the hospital until there are a few minutes in between.”

“Let’s take you to his driver's room then, dear.” The elder Carmen says, taking her daughter-in-law in her arms and helping her. The younger Carmen followed behind due to the two becoming quite close.

Time had passed and Lewis was finishing up all his media duties. He wanted nothing more than to be in the embrace of his wife on such a special day. His eyebrows furrowed up when he couldn’t find her in the garage. He looked around confused until he saw Carmen appear out of his motor room looking distressed as she spoke with George who was waiting outside.

“What's going on?” Lewis asked confused, feeling a surge of worry running through his veins.

“Y/n, her water broke earlier and we wanted to get you but she refused! Your mom only let her refuse because her contractions weren’t too bad yet,” The Spanish girl explained to Y/n’s worried husband. “But they’re getting closer now so I came to get you and-“

Lewis didn’t let her finish before rushing into his motorhome. He spotted Y/n leaning against the wall with his mother supporting her by her arm. “My love, why’d you wait this long?” He softly says, quietly thanking his mother before taking her place with his wife.

“Wanted you to enjoy this day and your win-“

“But you’re pregnant and in labor. This is far more important and urgent.”

“So does that mean we can go to the hospital now?”

Lewis sighed, shaking his head as a smile crept up on his lips. He turned to his mom before grabbing Y/n’s bag, “I’ll take her now. I’ll keep you updated.”

His mother simply nodded and gave her son a kiss on his cheek. She gives Y/n an encouraging smile before whispering, “If your daughter is anything like my son, it’ll be a fast delivery.”

Y/n chuckled at her words before waving goodbye to her. Lewis sighed as he easily scooped her up in his arms. Fortunately, George had called an ambulance which was waiting by the entrance of the paddock just in time.

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Although winning after so long at home was so special to Lewis, he knew nothing could beat what he currently felt as he cradled the tiny baby in his arms.

Hours before he held the golden trophy signifying he won his 104th race. Now, he’s holding one of the most important girls in his life.

Just like her father, little Ophelia came out fast. Y/n was only in the hospital for an hour or so before it was time for her to push. Tears hadn’t stopped flowing from their faces from the moment Lewis won to even after Ophelia’s birth.

“What a day.” Y/n sleepily chuckled, waking up from a nap that had been knocked out for a while. Lewis turned around with a sleeping Ophelia still in his arms. “You win a race and you get a daughter who is identical to you even if I carried her for 9 months?”

“How are you feeling?” He asked his wife who scooted over to the side, signaling for him to sit next to her.

“Tired. Happy, but tired.” She immediately melted into his side.

She gently runs her finger over Ophelia’s cheek. The newborn was still in deep sleep, clearly exhausted after being born just a few hours earlier.

Lewis couldn’t help but admire the two. June 7th was undoubtedly one of the happiest days of his life. He’s won many times before. He’s won trophies and world championships. Winning at home after 3 years was something special. But winning in life with his wife by his side and his daughter in his arms was something unexplainable.

He leaned down to press a kiss on Ophelia’s forehead before pressing a kiss against Y/n’s lips. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two. My special girls.”

[ts-witchy-archive]

Low Energy Devotional Activities and Ways to Connect with the Gods

Let's be honest, religion and consistent practice can be HARD, especially when you're chronically ill, disabled, mentally ill or neurodivergent. This is a list of lower energy practices you can do to connect with your Gods when you're having a rough day.

Pray. You don't have to say the prayer. You don't have to do the full cleansing and offering. Just think about the prayer. It could be as simple as "'Deity Name', thank you. I'm thinking of you and appreciate you."

Dedicate any self care you do to the Gods. You've got to take meds? awesome. it's now a devotional activity.

If you can, light a tea light candle. You can think about who you're dedicating it to as you're lighting it.

Tell them about your day. Have a simple conversation with them (again, this can be in your head if needed).

Offer some water! Water is a great offering if you don’t have the energy to cook, collect or buy something.

Incense is also a great offering because you can light it then forget about it and your house won’t burn down (if you follow regular safety measures). 

Resting. Your deities want you to be okay. Dedicating your rest to your deities is especially great if you feel guilty for allowing yourself time to heal.

Turn on a video of someone reading mythos! 

Put on a deity playlist. There are plenty of pre-made ones on Spotify. 

Veil or bind your hair! Whenever I’m low energy I’ll throw my hair in a ponytail and bind it that way. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 

Make a Pinterest board for them!

Post on a digital altar! There are plenty of discord servers that have digital altars and temples. You could also make a devotional Tumblr blog. 

Change your phone lock/home screen to something that reminds you of your Deity.

I hope this is helpful to anyone who needs it! Take care of yourself first and foremost. If you don't think you can manage something on this list then thats perfectly fine too! you're not a bad person for not being able to do something spiritual or religious. Ultimately, these things are not a necessity. Don't stress :)

[spookypete-94]

Pregnant by Proxy

SimonRileyxPregnant!Reader

Have had this idea in my head for many, many months. Finally just decided to do it- even if it seems strange to some.

Triggers for medical inaccuracies, language, minor angst, still born mentioned

What triggered it all is you not showing up. Being Laswell’s right hand while she was Watcher, given you the opportunity to assist Task Force 141 on multiple missions. So much, they considered you a part of their team.

Here instead, Simon Riley stood back watching you from afar. He had hunted you down and located you in your hometown. Something he was never ever supposed to do. There was a no contact rule for them outside of their work. Price enforced it for safety reasons. But Simon just couldn’t stand not knowing where you were or what had happened. That was unsafe for him. He needed to see you, needed to make sure you were alright.

“I can’t tell you much, just that she will not be attending this mission.” Laswell spoke from the computer screen during their video call meant to be a mission brief for the 4 of them.

“She ok at least?” Price asked, looking up over the stack of papers in his hands up at the camera.

You had made your mark on all of them… but maybe not as dark or inflicted as you had on Simon.

“Medical emergency back at home. I know you guys are worried about her, but I really can’t disclose anymore.” Laswell’s voice firmer, protecting you.  “She deserves privacy and her time off.” Something you had earned away from them.

Simon couldn’t help but pipe up. “When will she be back?” You are an asset to this team, as much to his spirit.

A heavy sigh from Laswell, “We need to focus on the task ahead.” She was putting up a wall. How dare you leave without relaying some sort of word to him…

What had happened to you?

That was the moment Simon knew he needed to find you. You were at risk, something had happened. Did you get sent somewhere without him and hurt? Are you bruised and bloody? Had someone laid hands on you? Dangerous as you were… Simon couldn’t help feeling that you were fragile. He had seen you in the most intimate of ways on more than one occasion. Perhaps that had changed his perception of the clarity of body. Fragile like clay figurine, porous and breakable. Skin smooth, even though littered with scars in places. Special, is the way to describe you to him. You understood him. An extension of his peace.

So, he finished the mission. Angrier than he had ever been at the end of one. Days drawn out, even though it only took them a week to find their target and take him into custody. It was a success, a record in apprehending someone capable of such violence. Little did the Task Force know, Ghost’s unbridled rage of procrastinating the ability to find you, the result of such a feat.

Price knew something was up when Ghost had turned down the interrogation of the suspect. This was his forte. One of his best qualities of finding intel was beating a man into submission. Glancing with a side eye filled with suspicion, Price then closed it. Halfway knowing what Ghost was up to, the fact that Simon now needed this. He needed to know you were alive.

There were a few times you would tell him stories of your hometown and family after you would connect and lay naked together. He enjoyed it. It distracted his mind while his brain would close his eyes and imagine it. Never once did you tell him where you from or the name of the town… but he had seen it so many times in his mind’s eye, he had just an inkling of where it was hidden.

Imagine his surprise when had finally found you outside your favorite coffee house. A small coffee in your hand… and a swollen belly round in front of you as you slowly waddled away from him. He had stood back near the corner about 3 buildings away from you, following you ever so slowly.

Shock had filled his system. He could walk away now… in fact he fully wanted to bolt and sprint in a different direction. He knew you were safe, alive and clearly thriving… but he had more questions now then when he did about your absence.

Feeling like you were being watched made you turn around. Eyes instantly locked on the black shadow that was following you.

“Simon?” Your sweet voice called to him, filled with confusion and happiness.

“Wanted to see you…” Was all he could mumble out as he approached.

Awkwardly you tried hard to lurch to him, hard to do so when your counterbalance was way off.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” a rushed hiss to him, as you tried to lay your head into his chest. It was difficult with how round you were, the babe pressing you away.

His finger guided under your chin, lifting it up so he could see your eyes. Tears welled in them that he brushed back with a thumb. Fucking hormones.

“Missed you,” you repeated. Somehow even through all your emotions, the glow on you was so strong and intense. How beautiful.

Simon remained quiet, while he tried to decide how far along you were. The time frame… seemed possible, but he wasn’t entirely sure. The time away from you seemed so much longer. He wanted to ask, he needed to know this now. Sure, he wanted to run at the same time, but you were important to him. This was important to him.

“Is it mine?” He asked his palm spreading over the circumference.

You stood there unable to speak. It was such a long story. Words hindered, closed off. Instead, you shook your head with a slow no. Regret written all over your face.

Instantly, the rage returned to him. Of course he wasn’t good enough for you. That’s why you left. That’s why everyone eventually does. How dare you be so important to him….

Turning on heel, he pushed past the crowd of people nearby trying to get away from you. Anger blinding him, deafening your calling out.

“Simon!! Wait!! She’s not mine either!!” Trying your hardest to run after him.

What?

He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to turn to look at you yet. The same tears that had stung yours now been transferred to his. Had he really wanted this with someone so bad before?

Your hand pressed into his back letting him know you were still there.

“She’s my sisters… it’s a really long fucked up story, but she is my sister’s.”

Abstract. This whole thing was completely abstract and fucking strange. You were being a surrogate to it all.

“What?” Simon said again, finally turning around, his head looking to the side, still not fully able to look at you yet. He needed clarification, needed to comprehend you hadn’t betrayed him.

“I went on leave because my sister was pregnant and went into labor at about eight and half months…but something had happened. She got this blood infection in her uterus causing a still birth. And when it did, it made things happen to her reproductive organs so she would never be able to carry a baby again…They had to take it all out.” A heavy breath left you, as you started to explain, a shake he could hear in your voice, one that and couldn’t ignore.

He turned back around, finally able to look at you again. To you, it was like the break of dawn and the sun greeting the Earth for the first time. He was listening to you. This whole time you were fearful of losing him… but here he was standing before you. Shining like the sun every morning, a wordless pact.

“My sister… she lost her baby and I saw what it did to her. This is all she has ever wanted was to be a mother, and her chance has been taken from her. So, when the doctor said they had saved some of her eggs…I knew I had to do this for her.” Taking his hand, you placed it back on your belly, sprawling his long fingers over it. “This baby isn’t yours… and she isn’t mine. That doesn’t make her any less important though. Just know I had to do this for her.”

His hand was warm. Radiating warmth into you. It gave so much into you, like you had just spewed out back to him.

Did he doubt you?

“I was on my way to an appointment. Why don’t you come with me and maybe that will help you understand.”

A compromise. Let me make this right.

Sliding his hand across your belly, over to your hand he took it and gripped it, squeezing once in awhile. His quiet assurance. So, you led the way. The sail to his boat, teaching and guiding him.

The room was white. White bed, white paper covering it. White walls. White Floor. So much white it hurt for him to look at. Carefully, he stood next to you, letting you climb on the bed to lay down.

“Where is your sister?” A valid question. He would think if this was her baby, she would want to know details, right?

“Work. I think it still hurts her to come sometimes… She has come to a few in the very beginning, but as it gets closer it scares her.”

A valid response.

“You been coming by yourself?”

A slight shrug of your shoulders. “I have…” That hurt him to know you were doing a majority of this alone.

“How did you…?” He said looking down and looking back up at you.

“Conceive?” Unsure if that was what he was asking or not. “Artificial. They planted the embryo after it was fertilized."

Oh, thank God. The relief written on his face makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry. No one else has been inside me in that way. I would never let anyone, let alone my brother-in-law.” Still chuckling.

“Better not.” The only words he could say in his embarrassment of thinking so.

In walked the doctor, who looked over at the mountain of a man.

“Well, hello. Is his him then?” She pointed to him and looked back at you.

“It is.” A smile radiating back at her, truly at your happiest.

The doctor glanced back over at him. “She has talked about you quite a bit and how much she wished you could be here. It’s hard, what she is doing for someone else, but I’m glad her person is here with her now. Your girl’s quite brave.” Rolling across the floor of the room on her stool.

Simon was dumb founded; you had talked about him to someone else? Did he really mean that much to you too?

“Now let’s have a look.”

Rolling your shirt up, exposing that smooth skin to him one more time. It’s been so long since he had last seen it, and here it had changed so much but remained stunning to him.

The doctor measured it before pulling out the doppler to hear the heartbeat. A soft whooshing noise was instantly recognized, making you close your eyes and smile. It was so surreal to Simon. Like he was on the outside looking in. He had the opportunity to see you in this light… and somehow it still was that way for you too. Knowing you were carrying this baby… but it wasn’t entirely yours either.

“Your niece is looking wonderful. See you at your thirty-six-week appointment. Will be once a week starting then.” Niece… A reminder that you were grateful for this baby, but a deep part of you wished it was daughter.

Somehow, he had made it to the checkout desk with you and hadn’t even realized it.

“Can I list you as an emergency contact?” the question that brought him back to reality. Your eyes were looking up at him, pen and paper in your hand before you wrote his name down.

“Sure,” he said taking the pen and paper, scribbling his number down next to his name. Who said anything about no contact outside of work again?

Ending the day, you brought him back to your home. Allowing him to see more of your personal life. Baring it all to him today. His fragile figurine, safe and protected now that he had found her once more. Never again would you be out of his sights. He will see to fix that, all on his own.

Two hands started at your hips before snaking around, his arms fully embraced you from behind. He lifted up on your heavy belly, taking the weight off your hips. A pleasant groan emitted from you. How good did that feel.

“Such a nice thing you are doing for your sister… but next time, the baby in there is going to be ours.” His mouth hot and heavy next to your ear, before running his tongue from the bottom up. It made your skin run hot and cold all at once, goosebumps in the wake on your skin.

“Going to be such a good mother,” his hand trailing down your belly and onto your thigh before squeezing it. “I want this to be safe and healthy for you all, but as soon as you can… I’m fillin’ you with my own. As many as you’ll let me.” Grinding into you, imagining you swollen with his seed making him aroused.

“I missed you.” You whispered out the thrice time today.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

[keepthedelta]

scenes that should be included in the brad pitt f1 film

(for legal purposes this is a joke, no one should support this film)

60 year old  brad pitt has to do the mandatory driver fitness test and almost collapses at the cardio. 28 year old carlos sainz does it next to him without hesitation or struggle two weeks after an appendectomy whilst wearing a mesh shirt

alex albon’s radio message calling brad pitt an ancient fuck after cutting the corner to smash the williams out of the way

leo leclerc and/or roscoe shitting next to brad pitt’s feet

damson idris’s character saying fernando’s “I knew he would brake because he has a wife and two children at home” quote. the wife and children will never be mentioned again or seen on screen. the romance will be exclusively between 60 year old brad pitt and the engineer woman half his age

damson idris’s character tweeting ocon’s my teammate tried to kill me but I survived tweet before getting drunk with a billionaire’s son

brad pitt attends a team principal’s meeting that goes oddly silent the moment that he walks in and three of the other team bosses immediately begin speaking to each other in italian. zak brown gives a sympathetic look but turns away, andreas seidl sniggers in german

four drivers call out brad and damson idris for their bullshit driving during the drivers’ briefing romain grosjean head of the gpda style. george russell ends the meeting with a powerpoint explaining to them why they are assholes

brad and damson idris have an emotional bonding moment where 60 year old brad reminds 32 year old damson idris that he is still young, still a rookie, and he has plenty of time to develop as, I assume, the lewis hamilton character insert despite lewis actually being in the film??? in the background kimi antonelli scooters past on his way to get a bath and bottle because it’s nearly his bedtime

k-mag hands over his stewards room loyalty card to brad pitt who gets a race ban

triumphant moment where the team finally scores a podium but the post-race inspection reveals that their car is wildly illegal and they are disqualified

stefano domenicali enthusiastically welcomes the american audience that brad pitt’s team brings, ross brawn is sat next to him listing off the many ways that their car does not comply with the fia’s safety standards

brad pitt and damson idris are battling for their lives at the back of the grid, max verstappen laps them

the engineer woman describes speed in kilometres. brad pitt tells her to explain it in “english”

a hilariously corrupt Italian businessman who bears absolutely no resemblance to flavio briatore none at all says something hilariously corrupt at a sponsor meeting. brad pitt nobly rises above it

fernando alonso sniffing plants in the background of every other scene

a blonde reporter/presenter has sexual tension with damson idris. when brad pitt asks who she is, he simply says “a girl I used to know” and looks longingly in the distance

michael and/or mario andretti with an axe demanding to know why it’s okay for brad pitt to have an 11th f1 team but not him, even though the andretti name is incredibly well respected in the motorsports world

[cap-winter-barnes]

Home (Tyler Owens x Reader)

You're soaked to the bone, clothes torn, bloody and clinging to your skin. Hair plastered to your face, blooding running down your face like tears. The wind still howls around you as you help people to safety, Tyler by your side. The gash on your forehead is numbed by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You've always loved storm chasing, but this time it's different, too close to home.

That moment in the motel pool, clinging to the piping for dear life, Tyler moments from slipping through your fingers - that was the most terrifying moment of your life. Yet here you are still riding your fears.

As the streets of El Reno begin to tumble and tear apart before your eyes, you push forward, trying to save as many people as you can. With no space in the small number of bunkers, basements & shelters there are, you have no choice but to guide everyone to the movie theatre.

"Y/N!" You turn at the sound of Tyler's voice above the cacophony of chaos around you. You still lose you breath every time you look at Tyler Owens and fall in love with him like it's the first time you met all over again. "Baby Girl, we need to get inside before it's too late." His hand wraps around your forearm, pulling you closer to his side.

Tyler was the one who brought your love of storm chasing to life, made your childhood dreams a reality. Your parents thought you were crazy to go off with the self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wrangler' but upon learning the reason behind his dangerous adventures and of your utter happiness and adoration of the man, they came to terms with your decision.

With a chaste kiss to your forehead, Tyler takes your hand in his and pulls you along hurriedly toward the movie theatre. Gathering the last few families through the doors with you and taking a glance back at the fast approaching tornado, you close the door behind you. Once inside the theatre, hunkered down between rows of chairs, the adrenaline begins to fade.

With the horrendous sound of the rain, wind and destruction echoing around the large space, panic begins to set in. This building wasn't made to withstand such a destructive force of nature. Tears spring to your eyes as your fear takes over. The cut on your forehead still bleeding, throbbing above your eyebrow. "Ty?" He can barely hear you above the roar of the storm above you, chunks of ceiling ripping away into the sky. "Ty?"

"I'm here Baby Girl, I'm here." You feel him wrap his body around yours as you both lay on the ground, arms tightly wrapped around them to keep you anchored. His warmth envelopes you and the smell of him immediately calms you somewhat. "I'm here, I gotcha." Sobs wrack your body as you try to take your mind away from this godawful situation. You should be celebrating your engagement but instead you're fighting for your lives. "I gotcha, darlin'. We're gonna go home after this." He kisses your temple, his body wrapping tighter around yours as the eye of the storm grows closer. "Wherever you wanna call home, that's where we'll go. We'll st-"

What's left of the movie screen disappears as the wall is torn away from the building, debris and innocent people being ripped away with it. Your fear returns tenfold, Tyler holding on with all his strength to protect you. His life, his home. "We'll start that family we talked about, hmm?" He presses his cheek against your own. "We're gonna make it through this, darlin'. I promise."

You turn to face him, noses brushing against each other. "I promise you, baby." You waste no time in pressing your lips to his own, the taste of blood, dirt and tears on your tongue as you press yourself to him.

"I love you."

"I love you, Baby Girl." You rest your forehead against his as you both prepare for the worst. The building shudders and shakes, groaning against the worsening wind speed. With eyes closed tightly, hands wound around each others, both you and Tyler hope with all your might that you survive this. But no matter what, you were home. Tyler is your home.

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[schizopositivity]

If people in general can understand that someone watching a horror movie might jump in their chair, have their heart rate go up, and feel nervous, even though there is no actual threat in the room, then why can't they understand the same is true for people experiencing psychosis?

They are similar, you are seeing something that isn't actually real, you may believe it's real or not, but either way you will react as if it were real because your brain can't help it. The difference is the person in psychosis isn't seeing it through the safety of a screen, isn't prepared for it and can't immediately turn it off if they want to.

So why is it so hard for people to understand why people in psychosis will react like they are actually experiencing something? Anyone would jump back if an elephant suddenly appeared in front of them. Or be very nervous if they hear their name called when they are home alone. So why are people in psychosis expected to not react, or stop reacting when someone tells them it isn't real?

It really shows a lack of sympathy from people who haven't experienced psychosis, for them to expect us to not have reactions. We are expected to somehow suppress our brains natural reactions, simply for other people's comfort. This applies even more to people of color and homeless people. We are expected to fit the status quo, even when our brains are experiencing something as real.

I say all this to say, try to consider the experience of people with psychosis if you haven't. Don't gawk at people reacting to something you don't see. Try not to fear the homeless person talking to someone that isn't actually there. Don't make fun of, or judge people for reacting to something they are experiencing, just because you don't experience it.

[earlysunshines]

attachment: 1 image

myoui mina x fem!reader ; smut

synopsis: your girlfriends a model and you’re always clocked in so it’s reeeaaally hard for you to get intimate and goddddd mina’s getting impatient and sexually frustrated so she takes matters into her own hands.

warnings: smut ; filthy!! ; did someone say sub reader? ; sub!reader!!!!! ; mina is a model ; reader is in forensics ; somnophilia ; thigh riding ; fingering ; mentions of stitches ; bruises ; blood ; small easter egg if you’ve read one of my jihyo fics ; not proofread ; anything else i forgot to mention

a/n: muahhahahaa

attachment: 1 image

your phone buzzes, and usually you’d ignore it considering you have to meet this deadline– but when you look at your phone, seeing the small pixels of your girlfriend getting a kiss on the cheek from you in the contact picture and the little “minari” on the screen; you quickly grab your phone, clicking on the notification.

jesus. is all you can think of when you see the picture, you’re surprised you can think after seeing it.

mina – your girlfriend, your oh-so-lovely girlfriend, the girl of your dreams, the model you managed to get into a relationship with after spilling all of your drink on at one of sana’s parties, your everything and more – is leaned over against a balcony, eyes looking into the camera seductively. her makeup is light, a strand of her bangs fall over her forehead and then you glimpse down. you feel your chest tighten as soon you see the panties peeking out, pants slipping down so you can get a tantalizing glimpse of the skin and–

you groan.

it’s four, and you’re working overtime – again; there are too many cases to examine and report – you can’t be riled up, especially not now. biting your lip, you put your phone down, deciding to push everything to the side.

getting back to work is not easy.

minari: 1 notification 

“you fucking hate me.” is mumbled under your breath before you peek over, unlocking your phone quickly to see a text:

minari: don’t ignore me baby

minari: miss you

minari: did you like the picture? 

oh you loved the picture, loved it so much that you wonder what it would be like to rip the clothes she has on right off of her.

you: :-( 

you: please dont do this to me

you: i’m working overtime

you: when will you be back?

minari: this weekend, friday night

you groan again, sitting back in your chair in defeat. that’s three days.

you: i have to get back to work

you: the things i’d do to you

you: you’re a pain in the ass

on the other side of the line, mina giggles. she’s satisfied with her effect on you, she can just picture the little crease of your brows, the frown, and really just how cute you look when you’re all pouty and impatient. 

she bites the inside of her lip after reading the second to last text from you, thinking about just what you could do to her, until she’s interrupted by one of the photographers. it isn’t easy to model when she’s missing you, she’d much rather show off her luxury panties to you than the cameras. 

–

you’re beat. literally and figuratively.

as someone accustomed to the comfort and safety of the forensics lab and the routine of the department, being dragged into a chase on a friday night is far from what you expected. you had plans to go home and wait for your girlfriend, ready to greet her with a hug and something more – but no, of course you had been caught in a pursuit.

after being treated by the nurses, they hand you a slip of paper for a follow-up check-up, but you wave it off, insisting that you'll be fine. however, it's clear that jihyo, the detective, has endured much worse. fresh stitches on her ribs, bruises covering her upper back and arms, a bloody nose, and a cut on her jaw, she's clearly been through a rough ordeal, thankfully spiderwoman stepped into help you all out. 

in comparison, your injuries seemed minor—a smack to the ribs, a punch or two to the face, and a close call with a punch that grazed your temple, resulting in a bit of blood and a bandage to cover it. 

when you finally get to your car, exhausted and limp against the seat, you check your phone while you wait for the air conditioning to turn on. 

there’s seven new messages from mina, earning a sigh. 

you read through all of them, each one slowly getting more worrisome as you scroll, which paints a frown on your lips. 

[6:03pm]

minari: i just got home

minari: where are you?

[7:44pm]

minari: i bet you’re busy, stay safe

minari: i’ll be waiting here

minari: love you, i hope you’re okay

[10:30pm}

minari: going to bed, i’ll see you soon love

minari: thinking of you

[10:58pm]

minari: wish you were here, goodnight, i love you

the pain that’s spread throughout your body doesn’t bother you anymore; the thought of your girlfriend alone in bed – finally home after her two week-long work trip – makes you groan frustratedly as you lean your face against the wheel of your car. 

you’ve got to get home.

–

it’s almost midnight when you get to your apartment and you don’t even make it to the bedroom.

you underestimated the toll of the fatigue, the bruises, and the damage done to your body – not to mention the countless sleepless hours leading up to this chaotic night. you've been tirelessly investigating various dna samples and physical evidence, neglecting your much-needed rest in favor of focusing on your work and trying to distract yourself from missing your girlfriend too much because that is already enough to throw you in a spiral. 

as soon as you catch sight of the couch, you practically collapse onto it, sinking into the cushions with a sense of relief. leaning back lazily, you feel the heaviness of your eyelids, each blink a struggle to keep them open for just a little longer.

mina crosses your mind and you feel sorry for leaving her alone, but you physically can’t do anything about that.

the exhaustion catches up to you, and then you find yourself passing out on the couch with your work clothes still on, tie loose, and no energy left to fight off the drowsiness. 

–

mina wakes up earlier than usual – still alone.

the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and she had expected to find you lazily draped over her, maybe with the blanket slipping off the bed and the feeling of your breath gently warming her skin. but as she wakes, she realizes that the blanket is still snugly wrapped around her, and her skin feels oddly cold.

she blinks once, then twice, and still, you’re not there.

getting up and reaching over blindly for her phone, she unlocks it groggily, opening your messages to see a “read, 11:40pm” 

mina furrows her brows, rubbing her squinted eyes to read the same message on the screen. she feels a pang of worry as she wonders why you haven't responded or called, and why you're not next to her right now. hastily, she checks your location, clicking on your contact photo, and then freezes in disbelief.

you're home?

the contact picture she has of you—your smushed face with drool leaving the corner of your lip—is only half a centimeter away from her on the screen. with a sense of urgency, she jumps out of bed and rushes to find you.

she walks out of the hall and into the living room, catching a glimpse of the back of your head on the couch. mina lets out a sigh of relief, walking over and standing in front of your figure.

you look adorable, sitting up against the couch with your head leaned back on the cushion. you stay frozen in place, the only movement coming from the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, which tells mina that you’re out. your hair is disheveled, you're still in your work clothes, and there's a new band-aid beside your brow on your temple. mina finds herself captivated by the sight, unable to tear her gaze away.

“long night, i bet.” mina mumbles, sitting down next to you and putting her head on your shoulder. you don’t budge, still remaining in your place.

mina kisses your cheek before returning to your shoulder, deciding to rest her eyes with you for a while more.

–

your girlfriend wakes up a few hours later – you’re still asleep by her side, still frozen in your place.

mina rubs her eyes against your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your body as she stirs awake for the second time that morning. fishing for her phone, she checks the time: 11:31 am. glancing back at you, still sound asleep, she decides it's time for both of you to start the day. she hasn't even had a chance to greet you while you were awake yet, and she misses your attention.

she presses a kiss to your cheek – no response.

pouting, she presses a few more to your cheek – you stay frozen in place, eyes closed and breathing still relaxed. 

then she moves over to your jawline, pressing a few pecks and moving down to your neck, the spot that earns the most from you – there’s a reaction, a small groan from you, and then you shift in your place – still no sign of consciousness. 

mina's never been a morning person, which only adds to her frustration. with a whine, she moves over to straddle you, settling herself on your lap.

“c’mon, i’ve been waiting for you.” she says, and still, it doesn’t wake you up. “wearing the same lingerie from the pictures and you’re still like this…” 

not only is she frustrated from missing you, she’s been irritated from how sex-deprived she’s been.

she brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, gently fixing the mess from whatever ordeal you endured last night, before taking a good look at you. the morning sunlight highlights the contours of your jawline, making your skin glow, and the slight parting of your lips adds to your allure. 

you look good—maybe even better than usual—and mina can't help but feel a surge of desire, fueled by her deprivation of you.

she tugs gently on the tie wrapped loosely around your neck, coaxing you forward. your head naturally falls forward in response, so mina tilts it up by the chin, cradling your face between her fingers.

“you look so cute,” mina sighs, rubbing a thumb over your skin. “i could take you like this.”

the two of you have talked about this – about fucking while one is asleep – and neither one of you was against it. however, it’s never actually happened, and sure mina’s daydreamed about this, and you have too, but she never thought there’d actually be such a perfect moment in time.

you’re asleep, looking all pretty, perfect, and downright fuckable – mina can’t help but bite her lip at the sight, grinding down against your lap a bit.

she shifts over to straddle one thigh in order to gain more friction, gasping at the second movement of her hips against you.

“maybe,” a small breath leaves her lips, “this’ll wake you up.”

another rut against your slacks and she’s shutting her eyes, fully waking herself up at the feeling.

mina’s usually never this horny, or bold for that matter, but after two weeks without her girlfriend with barely any time to talk to one another – she’s a whole new person.

holding onto one shoulder – earning a small mumble from you – mina grinds against you again. she’s only wearing your t-shirt, which sits loosely on her, and the panties from the picture she had sent – they’re soaked now.

her arms rest on the top of your shoulders now, and wrap around your neck as she clings onto you desperately. she feels hazy, seeing stars the faster she stimulates herself on you, and you have no fucking clue what’s going on. it honesly turns her on even more, getting to use you like this.

and when she thinks it can’t get anymore overwhelming, the feeling of her cunt against you, the thrill of making a mess of herself against you – she feels a rough, firm grip on her hips, then moves her head away from your neck to see your eyes slowly opening. 

“baby, w-what?” you sigh out lazily, trying to process everything that’s going on, “what are you–”

mina cuts you off with a kiss, to which you respond immediately with a hand cupping her cheek, and your lips fitting with hers perfectly. 

your girlfriend shudders against you, looking down at her cunt leaving a dark mark of arousal on your gray bottoms, then latches her lips onto your jawline. she leaves sensual kisses, waking you up from your deep sleep immediately. you melt as your hands reach the base of her neck.

she presses a peck on your upper jaw before muttering into your ear, “i missed– ah– you,” she says breathily.

“me too baby,” you respond with a sly smile, using your hands to push her down on your skin roughly, eliciting a loud moan into your ear.

she leans back, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other grabs the end of your tie. with a swift tug on the black cloth, you gasp in surprise. your face is close, close enough for mina to see your dilated pupils, creased brows, and flushed cheeks. it all adds to the allure, and tightens the knot in her stomach.

“y-you– fuck– left me all alone… l-last– god, nngh– night,” she struggles to say, especially when your thigh flexes. her hips jerk once before she grabs your hair roughly, then she throws her head back slightly, still making eye contact with you.

all your attention is on her, your eyes wide and pleading, like a puppy ready to answer and do anything she says. there's a mix of longing and desperation in your gaze, making you look arousingly pathetic and utterly irresistible simultaneously.

she tugs on your tie once more, earning a small whine, then orders: “you’re going to make me— u-ugh,  cum, okay?”

you nod eagerly, already helping her please herself against you with both hands again.

quickly, you tap your thigh up and rut her against you once more, the sensation and timing earns something near a yelp from her. mina pauses in her place and you feel her lower body vibrate against you as her high washes over, she practically melts, and her body goes a little limp as she tries to catch her breath.

you hold her tightly, supporting her body as it recovers from the overwhelming feeling. 

there’s a large, darkened spot on the cloth covering your whole thigh now, her arousal leaking over.

she kisses you again, basically taking the breath away from you. she traps your bottom lip between her two teeth, tugging gently to tease you – your grip on her tightens.

“y/n,” she says, climbing off your thigh and settling beside you.

you respond immediately, “yes?”

her hands toy with your tie again before she pulls dangerously. you whimper, biting the inside of your bottom lip. her manicured nails trace along your skin all the way up to the bandaid on your temple; you sigh out pathetically.

“where were you last night?” mina questions, letting her nail trace down your skin languidly. “no text, call, or girlfriend in my bed after two weeks of not seeing her.”

“i-i–” she tugs on your tie once more, tantalizingly, before rubbing two fingers on the cloth covering your cunt.s “mmf, i-i was caught in a pursuit and, we got into some um– some disagreements.” she presses on your cunt and your head shoots back – mina pulls again, making your head jerk forward to meet her dark gaze. “mina, please–”

“keep going, i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”

you gulp. “n-no.”

she unzips your slacks now, skillfully unbuttoning it with one hand so she can play with your waistband. you fight the urge to look down, pleading with your eyes in an attempt for her to just fucking touch you.

pulling on the cloth again, she orders, “keep going.”

then she slides her fingers in, teasing your skin by rubbing circles above where you need it most. “j-jihyo um, she was beat up really–” mina presses against your clit, brushing her fingers over it softly and pushing your buttons. “fuck, really badly, a-and i– mmf–”

“you what, love?”

“p-please, please i need you, please just–”

“are you done with the story? i still don’t know why i woke up alone, and to find you dead asleep on the couch.” her tone is viscious, which makes you gulp again. 

“s-sorry,” you apologize, looking down at her hand in your panties. “i waited until everyone was, patched up and–” you throw your head back at the feeling of her fingers sliding up and down your slit. she tugs – you whimper, “s-sorry. and i saw your text and had to go home and– god, i had to rush home and by the time i–”

you feel her enter you just barely, pressing just the tip of her finger inside you, making you squirm and moan breathily. your head shoots down, your eyes shutting in response to the overwhelming stimulus. mina's touch is grueling as her fingers trail up to your chin, caressing it with a sensual tenderness. she tilts your head back up, and when your eyes meet hers.

“c’mon, use your words.”

“s-sorry, again.” you pant. “i got home and, t-these past weeks i couldn’t sleep without y-you and–” she pushes half of her middle finger in; you bite back a groan in order to finish your explanation. “i-i guess it caught up to me, and then i passed out here.” you sigh out quickly, looking at her deperately.

“you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” mina asks, looking at you pitifully. her hand cups your cheek now, “love…”

“i just, missed you.”

mina frowns, rubbing her thumb on your cheek. “let me take care of you baby.”

“please,” you beg, “just, god, just touch me already.”

mina kisses your lips again, and as she does so, you groan into her lips as she pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt. 

they enter seamlessly, earning a desperate mix of a cry and a whimper out of those puffy lips of yours. she brings her fingers out, and with the same thrill – pushes them back in, almost double the force. your hand grips your own thigh, overwhelmed by the way she flattens her palm against your clit, tormenting your pussy. 

mina’s lips start to roam your neck, leaving marks that’ll stay for days, marks that’ll have you reprimanded but you don’t fucking care. she’s been gone for two weeks, way too long and fucking yourself to pictures of her on your phone could never compare to what you’re feeling right now.

she can feel your tightening around her fingers, you were always so easy to rile up, so sensitive and vocal about everything that made you feel good. so when she curls her fingers and feels your hand snake to her hair, practically pulling it off her scalp, she knows you’re close already.

and then you’re lazily grinding your hips against her, slacks now caught at your ankles as your panties start to soak up the arousal leaking from your entrance. your legs close, but mina opens them, getting rougher with her fingers and hitting your clit with her palm. 

“m-mina,” you whine, “i’m close, god, so close,”

“yeah?” she says softly, in a way that sends a shiver throughout your whole body. “cum for me then, c’mon baby, you deserve it after all your hard work.”

you manage to look her in the eye, brows creased to oblivion and your jaw dropped before it picks itself up so you can mutter a shaky “m–hmm.”

her thumb moves swiftly to brush your clit, which is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you to shake against the couch and rock your hips up. she watches you cry out, the rise of your chest – then the fall, and feels her hand grow damp with your climax.

she continues to massage your clit, sliding her fingers up and down your entrance simultaneously to let you ride out your high, bringing you back down to earth, letting your vision go from hazy to normal again.

“m-mina, fuck, baby,” is all you can mutter before she pulls you forward with your tie, kissing your swollen, reddened lips. your words muffle against her and your hands grip her shoulder tightly before loosening the more you kiss.

you feel dizzy, dizzy in the best way possible with her lips on yours, tongues swirling and kisses growing sloppier. 

and then mina pulls away one more time, twisting the fabric of your tie around her pointer as she gazes at you; dark red marks – almost purple, each the size of a quarter – are plastered on the skin of your neck, your eyes are closed as you breath heavily, and your hair is even more ruffled than before. you’re trembling, mina always liked how cute and overstimulated you are after you cum, so riled up and thrown off that it makes her want to kiss you till you’re struggling to bring air into your lungs.

she brings a hand to your hair, brushing the messy strands that hang over your pretty face in order to then cup your cheeks again. she smiles at you, grinning at the mess she’s made.

“awake now?”

“very.” you sigh out, bringing your hand over to her thigh to rub circles on it. “i’m really sorry for leaving you alone last night.”

mina shakes her head. “it’s fine, you had your job to do love.” 

“i would’ve enjoyed doing you instead.” you joke, pouting at her cutely. “god, do you know how annoying it is to be horny when your girlfriend isn’t home?”

your girlfriend rests her head against the cushion, then turns to face you. “oh i know. i waited all night for you, you know?”

turning to her and giving her an apologetic frown, you apologize again, “sorry.”

mina rolls her eyes at you, giggling. 

she holds your hand and uses the other to brush her fingers over the marks she’s made on your neck, making your breath hitch.

“make it up to me with a few more rounds?”

yeah, you’re tired as hell, even after eleven hours of sleep. you’ve just came and it took the life out of you – plus, you’re seriously just exhausted, but the way your cunt throbs at the suggestion urges you to lean over and kiss her again.

you pull away, lips brushing against hers before you answer against her, “ruin me.”

[buckyalpine]

Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

-

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

-

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

-

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

-

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

[allurilove]

Yandere Manager x singer you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere male manager x gender neutral singer reader, he’s secretly pining after you, your own little stalker, forbidden romance ig, male masturbation, takes pics of you sleeping, non con touching.

You met your yandere manager at the bar. You had been a part of a small band that never really made it big, but you always had shone brighter than the rest. You were magnetic, already having that star potential, and happened to sit right next to the man who worked for one of the best record companies. He just got off work, his sleeves pushed up above his elbow, and his glasses folded neatly next to him. He never really liked to drink, he was a different person when he did, but today was a special occasion. You were here. He already knew who you were, and he used a second low-key instagram account to see your stuff. He glanced at you. Your get-up was cute. He assumed that you came back from a concert or party, as there was a bit of confetti in your hair. You wore minimal and possibly sweat-proof makeup, and your eyes were striking with the black eyeliner.

Your manager sort of fell for you the first time he met you. It wasn’t easy to catch his attention, but you managed to do it. He had slid you his business card, paid for the rest of your drinks, and put on his best speech to convince you to sign with him. You became a solo artist in the blink of an eye, your singles and albums making it to the top forty, and you had the fame you wanted for so long. It just came with the price of having a stalker. As a manager, he had your location at all times. For safety purposes… of course. He threw a cap on, tiptoeing around the city to spy on you and your friends.

Your manager was responsible for your fan club. He would never tell you this, because it was simply embarrassing to admit, but he made a blog to gush about you. ‘A hundred reasons why you should stan y/n’ was the beginning of his secret outlet. He was the one that started the #manager and y/n would be cute hashtag on twitter, uploading a bunch of pictures of you and him having a ‘sweet’ moment. He spent hours scouring the internet to watch countless of edits of you, and he even made some himself. His cold and methodical demeanor would disappear the moment he was in the comfort of his home. He would lay in his bed, giggling and kicking his feet, twirling a piece of his hair as his eyes lit up at the sight of you on his screen.

Your manager acts like a helicopter parent. He’s always on your ass. He never texts you paragraphs or long sentences, so he could spam you and make sure you had definitely seen his messages.

“Where are you?”

“Out drinking again?”

“What happened to being responsible?”

“You have a show in two days.”

“I’ll be disappointed in you if you are drunk.”

“You better be at my house in two seconds.”

“Two seconds or I’m coming to get your ass.”

He liked you being drunk (only when you were around him). You would mumble and whine, his name on your lips constantly as you complained. And he got to be your hero for a while. He also forbids you from having any groupies. If you and him can’t fuck, then you can’t see anyone else. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you being with other people, and that’s why he had you at his apartment 24/7. When you were traveling for your shows, you best believe it that he was with you too. To him, it felt like you guys were practically married. Living together on the same bus, cooking together, sleeping near each other in close quarters. He would never cross the line when you were conscious; but when you were sleeping… it was free game.

The yandere manager took pictures of you. You were so worn out after your concerts, that you didn’t feel him moving your body. You trusted him because he gave you zero reasons not to. You trusted him enough that you didn’t expect him to start peeling off your clothes. He wanted his camera roll to be filled with your body. He gently put his hand on your thighs, squeezing the fat as he snapped a picture of you in your underwear. His fingers would sometimes find its way inside your mouth, subtly testing out your gag relax, and filming it for his pleasure. He flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and had his camera working hard to catch up with his thumb. He rapidly pressed against the button, trying to catch all the angles of your ass and sex.

Your manager touches his dick when you send him raw recordings of your voice. You were a night owl, your brain never shutting down until three a.m. and you sent him new songs you were working on. He plugged in his earbuds, lying back onto his bed, and hit play. He hummed the newest lyrics, his eyes closing as his hand slowly traveled down towards his crotch. He palmed himself, feeling his dick hardening in his grey sweatpants. He wanted you badly.

Your manager thought you were perfect, drop dead gorgeous and fucking hot. You have this sex appeal that makes his knees weak. He imagined you whispering the words to him: the heat of your voice warming the side of his face, your hand feeling up this tip, and wrapping around his long cock. Would you think that his dick was impressive? Would you be happy with how much cum that shoots out? Would you love it so much to gulp all of it down?

“Fuckin’ hell. Take it down your throat.”

“You love this don’t you? My big star.”

Your yandere manager wanted to sleep with you so badly. But he swore to himself to not get involved with another one of his clients. He groaned, his eyes opening to stare at his blank white ceiling, and his desperate cock softened in his hand. He hadn’t gotten any action lately, and he was oh so waiting to find the perfect moment to be with you.

Allure: extra stuff! idk i feel iffy about this fic

this is definitely reader and yandere managers text messages.

[jenscx]

MAGNETIC — yu jimin x f!reader

it was your very first time appearing solo on a variety show. was it a blessing or a curse that you ended up paired with aespa’s leader?

TAGS — fluff, self-on kode, lesserafim member!yn, flirty!karina, mostly texting, short oneshot, call it want you want (pt2)

WORDCOUNT — 1.4k

you were unsure about attending a variety show alone, especially one that had garnered a lot of attention lately. self-on kode, broadcasted on youtube. it was going to be your first time appearing solo, without the safety of your group mates. naturally introverted, you allowed your more outgoing members to lead the conversation, like yunjin, who was basically your saviour.

barely having a chance to greet the staff, you were quickly ushered into the seat. behind you, a pink wall separated you and your mystery partner. you had hoped they were going to be someone your age. it was already awkward talking to a stranger, but if it was a senior? you shuddered.

“y/n-ssi,” the director handed you the noise-cancelling airpods. you nodded at him gratefully and the cameras started rolling.

the chat was empty for a while and you almost started typing when a greeting came.

tonkatsu:

hello~~

i am tonkatsu ^^

you raised an eyebrow at the strange nickname. tonkatsu? like the food?

babybird:

hello, i am babybird

(“why did i choose the name tonkatsu?” jimin repeated, a smirk on her face, “i was feeling hungry.”

“babybird, or ahgase is the fandom of got7,” you explain, cheeks flushed, “i am a fan of theirs.”)

tonkatsu:

how are u today?

i was very excited to film!

you giggle, why did they answer their own question?

babybird:

i was nervous, it’s my first time appearing solo

tonkatsu:

ure in a group, babybird-nim ^^?

oh shit, you thought. with the staff laughing at your misfortune, you struggle to come up with a suitable reply to tonkatsu.

tonkatsu:

i think ure more shy than me

babybird:

is that a good thing?

tonkatsu:

oh? definitely not hehe

you roll your eyes at their reply. they were so annoying! cheeks puffed out, you continue typing.

babybird:

what’s with your name?

it’s a little strange..

tonkatsu:

i just like it

i’m really hungry now

i’m on a diet :((

babybird:

so you’re an idol?

your eyes gleam with amusement. your partner had just revealed a very important detail about her—

tonkatsu:

yes!

what the…

babybird:

why did you admit that so easily? ^^;;

normally people would hide that fact

tonkatsu:

but can u guess which idol i am~~

(jimin stares blankly at the camera, “of course i hadn’t expected babybird to pick up on my mistake but i had to show them that everything i did was intentional!”

“i thought it was very smart of them to reveal it,” you say, “it is hard to find out which idol my partner was.” the subtitle underneath you says, she was fooled.)

tonkatsu:

what’s ur mbti, babybird?

babybird:

i forgot… i think istj?

tonkatsu:

enfp, wow

babybird:

we’re complete opposites…

tonkatsu:

opposites attract tho?

you internally palm your face. the staff laughs at your misfortune of being partnered with a flirting expert. it was only fate for you to meet someone so…

babybird:

what’s with your flirting?

didn’t you say you were shy?

tonkatsu:

i guess it comes out naturally with u

u shld feel honoured!

i am quite the catch

babybird:

ok, let’s move on :)

do you have siblings?

tonkatsu:

just an unnie ^^

ah…

babybird:

you’re a girl.

was this time on purpose?

tonkatsu:

are u a guy or a girl?

wow, she just completely ignored you. but from the way she reacted, it was a mistake.

babybird:

guess?

tonkatsu:

this is what im hoping for!

a girl!

babybird:

oh..!

are you a prophet?

the camera pans to jimin who laughs at your absurd comment. the director holds up a sign which catches your attention; show your partner your home screen.

tonkatsu:

[image attached]

“homescreen,” you squint your eyes, “do you mean screen time…?”

tonkatsu:

why are u taking so long?

are u a boomer?

babybird:

[image attached]

watch your mouth

why is your homescreen so messy?

tonkatsu:

did u just buy ur phone lol

it’s so empty..

babybird:

wow we do not match each other

tonkatsu:

how many people do u live with?

babybird:

you tell me first

tonkatsu:

3 other people!

jimin smirks, “if they’re smart enough, they’ll think of aespa!”

meanwhile, you shudder at the thought of another 4 member girl group. “ah… do you guys have enough budget to host blackpink?”

tonkatsu:

answer my question! ^^

babybird:

nope! it’s a secret :)

tonkatsu:

hey!!!

that’s so unfair

i revealed mine to u

:((

babybird-nim…

babybird:

your begging won’t do anything

tonkatsu:

but…

don’t u think i’m cute?

babybird:

?!

what.

tonkatsu:

LMAO

i’m just kidding~

“why did you pair me up…” you mutter, “with a weirdo?” the staff laughs at your remark while jimin looks around warily, “are you guys laughing at me?”

babybird:

you’re an interesting person.

tonkatsu:

that sounds backhanded

babybird:

i live alone

(“i felt like lying to her. she kept teasing me, so it only felt right to lie, and i didn’t want her to know which group i’m from,” you say.)

tonkatsu:

oh!!

are u a soloist?

or…

are u older? ^^

your face of astonishment draws out more laughter. what the hell. you think. jimin, on the other side, just laughs quietly at herself and your silence.

(“it was my first time ever, having someone insinuate that i was old,” you say, “i was slightly shocked.”

“it wasn’t meant to be rude or anything, just to draw out a reaction,” jimin explains. the subtitle reads, the power of enfp.)

babybird:

do i seem old?

tonkatsu:

ah…

maybe? a little

i like older women tho :))

can i call u unnie?

let’s talk informally

babybird:

wow you type fast.

and i didn’t say i was older

what if i was in my 40s?

tonkatsu:

i’ll act polite when we meet

over chat, let’s be friends!

babybird:

your way of thinking…

it’s amazing

tonkatsu:

i know right!!

only u understand me

do u like watching dramas?

babybird:

oh!

i watched pyramid game

tonkatsu:

who’s ur favourite character?

babybird:

suji or maybe doah!

tonkatsu:

do u like bona sunbaenim?

babybird:

yes!!

i watched 2521 too!

she’s really pretty…

tonkatsu:

babybird-nim.

babybird:

yes?

tonkatsu:

who’s prettier?

me or bona sunbaenim

babybird:

lol i don’t even know you

tonkatsu:

based off the vibe ^^

babybird:

bona sunbaenim

no doubt haha

jimin pouts. the director holds up another sign; share your playlist with your partner.

tonkatsu:

[image attached]

babybird:

[image attached]

tonkatsu:

oh! u like aespa?

babybird:

yes…

i like dreams come true

and thirsty the most

tonkatsu:

i like aespa too!!

who’s ur bias?

babybird:

maybe… winter?

but i like them all

(“how did you feel when she said winter was her bias, and not karina?” the director asks. jimin sighs dramatically, “i guess, disappointed. i thought she would be drawn to me.”)

tonkatsu:

ah…

the disappointment is evident.

babybird:

do you have a bias?

tonkatsu:

karina obv!

she’s super pretty

babybird:

yes, i agree

tonkatsu:

but why is winter ur bias?

babybird:

i feel that she’s more relatable

karina is someone i would just stare at

i would never dare to talk to her

tonkatsu:

oh, why?

babybird:

she’s too pretty.

you further elaborate, “i saw her backstage before. she’s actually so pretty i couldn’t even move, one of my members had to nudge me.”

jimin, on the other hand, is flattered.

“she’s saying i’m too pretty to be her bias?” she laughs.

babybird:

let’s hold hands

tonkatsu:

so suddenly?

babybird:

the director told me to tell you ^^

tonkatsu:

LOL okay

you stand up from your chair, inching closer to the corner of the pink wall. your heart is beating a mile, pounding against your rib cage as you extend your hand, meeting the stranger’s. your first thought is that the hand is warm, and way bigger than yours. both hands interlink, you hold your breath. only when the stranger gives a squeeze, you let go, a pink flush on your face.

tonkatsu:

that was heart-fluttering

babybird:

your hand is so warm

tonkatsu:

was it nice?

after this, let’s hold hands more

(“i was thinking… is she crazy? or just flirty,” you groan, “everytime she would say something flirty and i didn’t know how to respond.”)

eventually, the chat ends abruptly. you sigh, stretching as you stand up again. you hear shuffles from the other side. strangely, your palms are sweaty and you feel suffocated.

a head peeks out from the other side.

“oh my god.”

“you tricked me!” are yu jimin’s first words to you. the stunning leader stands in front of you, mouth agape and all you can think about is how you basically confessed your love for her.

she moves closer to you, “so you were lying about living alone?”

“payback to you teasing me,” you answer, your throat feeling oddly dry. jimin laughs heartily, “how could i not tease when your reactions are so cute?”

the camera pans to you two sitting down, the director asks, “so will we see you holding hands more often?”

“yes, definitely!” jimin answers, beaming. you splutter indignantly while hiding your red face in your hair.

she turns to you, “i said we would hold hands more, right?”

you can only nod. who were you to deny yu jimin?