#but its just like....can i please see some variety.

[diospore]

I'm just saying if you're writing smut featuring trans people and you find yourself ONLY writing pre-op transmen as receiving penetration. ONLY writing your transmen as submissive.

You should really take a step back and think about why this is.

Also consider including trans people who have gotten bottom surgery. I'd like to see more of that. Or transmen using straps. That'd be cool too thanks.

[deoidesign]

Thinks about my next series again... I drew the icon for it!

I'm planning to have it launched within a year! I'm hoping for summer 2025. I want to make a prelaunch page before Time and Time Again ends so people can subscribe if they're interested, but I'm worried the series return would be too early...

[graff-aganda]

No no ikr. The ENT fandom is so quiet around here. And honestly I'm just excited to see art of my favourite dudes, because we rarely get fanart around here, and when we do it's usually Trip or T'Pol solely. Malcolm gets left in the dust quite a lot so I'm happy you drew him as well - and so well done too!

Anyway, ramble over, lol.

OMG... Well I think I can see why a lot of fanart is of Trip and/or T'pol (those two seem like they're doing some heavy lifting for the show/are just a lot of people's faves. I've got a few half baked ideas in mind for them myself.) but the rest of the crew as a whole do deserve more love I think! :]

[itsalwaysdark]

i was gonna make a post abt how i dont rly like like. Genre changing covers of songs and then realized upon introspection is that i sort of just dont like rock covers of songs generally

[rafesdollette]

LATE NIGHT DRIVES

PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER

summary: Rafe cherished these drives with you. Where you both would blare your wildly different music, talk about anything that came to mind, and stop at random convenience stores for snacks. It was the only time where he felt genuinely relaxed and content.

a/n: okayy new setup? 🫣 I dunno, I'm trying it out but I likee. very professional, very cutesy. Anyway, this is my first well thought out writing so please do leave constructive criticism if you think I could do something different next time...

word count: 0.6k

The route to your house was second nature by now. He's been there so much that he almost knows it better than his own home. which he doesn't mind at all, cause your house was basically his second home.

As you lie in your bed, your phone buzzes with an "I'm outside" text from Rafe. So per routine, you get up, throwing on the first hoodie in reach and heading out of the door.

He blows out out a breath, letting out a low "Its about fucking time" as you get in his truck.

"yeah yeah, it wasn't that long. you're just impatient"

he pulls out of your driveway, scoffing slightly "I must have plenty of patience, I deal with you, don't I? and put your seat belt on."

Once your seat belt is fastened, he begins driving on the road, having no destination in mind like usual. For a while, it's just silence between you two. Which isn't uncommon for both of you, it's familiar and more comforting than he'd like to admit.

"Lets stop at a gas station for snacks" you request, looking out the window

He nods, a murmured "sure" leaving his lips as he drives in the direction of the nearest gas station.

Entering the gas station, you immediately make your way toward the section with candy, picking out packages of a variety of candies while he heads towards the chips.

Once you both have gathered a good amount of snacks for each of you, which you both are gonna end up sharing anyway, you set them down on the counter as the cashier to rings up all of the items that he ends up paying for like usual since he'll throw a fit if he doesn't.

When you both make it into the car, he drives to the usual spot you both spend nights at. An empty parking lot. "Oh my gosh, turn it up!" you motion to the radio, smiling widely.

He groans as he turns up the radio "What the hell is this? Taylor Swift?"

"Sabrina Carpenter" you correct "And it's good, just listen."

"Yeah, I'd rather not" he replies as he takes a few gummy bears from the bag in your lap. He always claims to hate your music taste but you always find him humming a beat to one of the songs you pick out during a drive.

He leans back into his seat, chewing slowly as he listens to the lyrics. "You listen to some dirty music" he chuckles

"Hey, she's not that bad. You should see her on tour though, you'll have a stroke."

he raises his eyebrow, an amused expression on his face "really, huh? what, are you gonna go?"

you hum, shaking your head "No. I want to, though. But her tickets are kinda pricey. Maybe if I have extra money to spend soon."

"I'll take you."

The Skittles you were eating nearly get stuck in your throat as you look at him in bewilderment "What?! No! Rafe, that's too much money."

he shrugs "It's fine. I wanna do it. Just let me? Please?" of course he wouldn't bat an eye at spending that much money, he was loaded.

you hesitate for a moment, but seeing the insistence in his eyes, you eventually nod slightly "Fine. You can take me. But I'm paying you back eventually, alright?"

"Mm okay, sure. Deal." he agrees, even though he knows when it comes time for you to pay him back, he'll either give the money right back to you or refuse it.

"Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate it." you smile, genuinely touched by his willingness to spend that much money on you. It was rare that he went out of his way to please someone.

"Mhm, of course" he smiles back before throwing a gummy bear your way "consider it a late birthday gift."

"my birthday was like nine months ago, but okay."

"Mm yeah, just go with it" he chuckles, reaching over and talking your hand.

That was definitely new...

[infamous-if]

✭INFAMOUS UPDATE IS HERE ✭

238K -> 457K WORDS

Please read this post before playing! It's finally here! After five months of writing and rewriting and salvaging and crying and sweating and bleeding I finally finished sort of kind of! Firstly, I want to thank you for your patience and understanding over this duration of this rewrite. It was stressful at times but I'm happy with the end result and I hope everyone else will be too :)

This will be the last chapter I release without beta testers/other sets of eyes so expect errors. I can playtest until my fingers turn blue but I'm just one person </3 I'm bound to have missed stuff.

Please let me know of errors! I tested it a few times with no problems but we know how it goes lol

IN THIS CHAPTER THREE UPDATE:

drama

mayhem

chaos

some betrayal

some surprises

just...read it lmao

PROLOGUE - CHAPTER 2 CHANGES:

**chapter two was too large of a file to upload on dd so I had to split it last minute and I uhhhh dont know how that translates in the demo but it should work lol please let me know if its wonky!**

fixed up grammatical errors and typos

expanded some scenes and added some more choices

you can now choose that your mc has "changed" in some way (drinking, no longer drinking, partier, no longer a partier, negative, positive, attached, detached, or a general default. I was asked to add an MC who "gets around" or hookups a lot but I'm still debating on whether I'll add that since there's already quite a bit lolol)

you can choose to have changed your band's genre before/after seven

TECHNICAL CHANGES:

you will be able to explicitly state your sexuality in the beginning. this was a big ask and I apologize for not doing it earlier! I wasn't good at coding when I started and I knew I always wanted to make the genders separate from MC's sexuality but I didn't know how to do that at the start :) So you can still choose the genders of the ROs for story purposes and variety. IF YOU DO NOT SEE ROMANCE OPTIONS THAT IS NOT A BUG. You simply chose a RO gender that doesn't correlate with the sexuality you chose for your MC. Having said that, if you do see a romance option available and it's not supposed to be there please let me know! That means I may have missed it coding-wise.

the stats have been all fixed! I've added all the necessary variables and such. The stat portion of the game has been updated with the appropriate pages but they're not finished. Still, the stats should be fine.

You will now have confessionals in the stat page! The feature still isn't a thing yet because I haven't come up with the confessionals lolol but you can click on it to see what it's about. Essentially, as you progress through the story you will be able to see confessionals from the cast of Infamous throughout. They disappear and appear periodically so if you miss it, THAT'S IT! You won't get a chance to see them again until MC watches an episode where it's relevant.

There is now a: Discography page, Infamous wiki, botb cast and staff page, and other characters page for organization. Those are not finished but they're there!

I changed a few stat names but their functions remain the same.

You will be able to choose how you would like to be described (masculine, feminine, neither, both).

O is officially gender-selectable.

You can set the genders of the ROs at the start or wait till you meet them.

PLAY HERE

[txttletale]

"you, specifically, are a bad and evil person that all my posts are written to condemn" this is not what i said. i'm sorry for not being clearer. i just feel like everyone in this space, not just you, look down on people who live in the first world as people who willingly don't change anything about how the world works when it's just not that simple. i know you all love to combat this and say otherwise but it will never change the simple reality that for some people it really is very hard, if not impossible, to do anything politically, for a variety of reasons. i'm disabled, i live in a remote part of the country, and i'm bad at talking to people. i don't have the money to just move to a population center or get lessons on how to speak to people. i can't do anything and i feel like every time you or one of the other communists on tumblr talks about the imperial core, i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to, if i were in one of your situations. obviously i want things to change. i don't want genocide to be a thing that's constantly happening, i don't want my country to have its tendrils dug into every other country, i want socialism and eventually global communism, and if i could do anything meaningful-- anything at all-- to achieve those goals i would be working on that. but right now that just is not the case for me, and i feel like i'm not alone in that either. i just wish you had like a smidgen of empathy for some of the people living here who don't fit into your stereotype of what a member of the imperial core looks like-- i'm not even trying to say that sarcastically, it genuinely feels like you all don't see us as human. like nyanguard especially seems to think of us as incapable of saving ourselves, and one of the reblogs to my first ask just said they "like to imagine that (i'm) crying as i type this". how am i supposed to react to that? is this how all of you feel about people like me? would your feelings about me change if i lived in another country, or would you find some other excuse to talk down to me? is it really just the country i live in that's the problem, here? i'm not trying to accuse you, i'm asking this question genuinely.

i know it's tempting to respond to this with a snarky comment but please just try to understand where i am coming from. i really am willing to help if i can.

i don't think any marxist seriously has a political theory of imperialism that amounts to "citizens of the imperial core simply choose not to do anything because they are all individually bad people". i mean the whole point of marxism is that economic relations are the ultimate drivers of historical change, not abstract psychological or moral qualities of people.

i'm sympathetic to your situation! the imperial core is a very atomizing place to live, and there are places and situations where there's just no practical path to getting organized and taking meaningful political action in the near future. however, your problem here is:

i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to

nobody is posting about you, personally. like at the end of the day you have to learn to either not take posts like that personally or just block everyone who makes them to manage your own time on the computer vis a vis niceness--i don't think it's the responsibility of me or any other communist to constantly provide asterisks and carveouts that we're not talking about the Good Ones Who Have Extenuating Circumstances when we talk about the usa and its material political base.

& in the same way that you ask for empathy for your situation i would ask you to extend a level of understanding to people whose homelands and countrymen and communities have been devastated by US coups and sanctions and invasions, that they have as much a right to express the rage and fury and hurt of that cultural legacy as you do to express your own sadness about your own situation. imagine, for example, how you would feel if your grandparents could not reliably get medicine because of us sanctions. & of course the correct target for these feelings are not random usamericans--but these posts are also not serious politcal platforms, they are venting from people who live their lives under the weight of empire.

if you think what they're saying is unfair to you, then you need to develop the ability to say 'well, i understand why they would feel that way' and move on. like i understand why you are upset, and i don't say this to be dismissive, but as real advice: it is not fair (especially to bloggers from the global south) to essentially rest your happiness and self-worth at their feet and demand that they validate you.

genuinely, i hope this helps. it's all i really have to say on the matter.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

deliveries

words: 1.2k

warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr

“can i say no?” you sigh.

“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.

“i didn't. my- my ex did.”

“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.

you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.

you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.

you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.

you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.

you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.

“stop sending me things.” 

“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”

“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 

“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”

you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.

“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”

“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”

“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.

“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”

you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.

“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”

“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”

“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”

--

you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.

you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.

“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.

“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”

“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”

the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.

you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.

“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.

it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.

rafe

p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months

you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.

“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 

“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”

you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.

“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”

“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.

“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”

“ill go wherever you want.”

“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.

--

you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.

you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.

rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.

“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.

“i am.” you nod. 

“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”

you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 

“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.

“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.

“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.

he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.

“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.

“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight

[zhongrin]

zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

i'm tired, darling.

featuring... ❥ zhongli, al haitham, jing yuan, blade

involves... ❥ hurt/comfort(-ish), implied self-harm, suicidal thoughts/behavior, probably incoherent, not proofread

through the thousands years of his life, through the plethora of sounds that could bring both fear and sadness to the god of stone’s heart, one stands out most; and he is forced to relive this moment as his ears picked up your heart-wrenching wail and loud sobs from the bedroom. he pays no mind to the clatter of his shoes nor the crumple of his signature coat to the floor, missing its intended place at the coat hanger. all he knows is that you’re in pain — his mate is in pain.

zhongli finds you curled in your nest, trembling and buying your head into your favorite pillow. his chest tightens when you peek at him, and he sees the rain of tears staining your cheeks, eyelashes matted and lips quivering. a variety of emotions wells inside him, but he’s sure it’s nowhere near intense as what you’re experiencing right now.

“darling…,” your husband whispers, stepping closer slowly, reaching forward cautiously like he’s approaching a wounded animal, “can i come closer?”

you can’t seem to reply, busy hiccuping and teetering the edges of hyperventilating. wilting and rotting like a flower that’s been rained for far too long. struggling to stay alive, and yet the petals are falling, the leaves crushed, the thin stem drooping.

your skin is marred, and in turn a pained frown mar his face. his gloves are taken off haphazardly, and they gently settle on your back, trying to rub soothing patterns. he knows not to speak, yet he makes sure you won’t be in further danger for yourself.

it’s a slow process, for you to unlatch yourself from the pillow and delve into his embrace instead. but when you finally do after a series of patient coaxing and comforting touches, he holds you tighter.

just hold on, please just hold on. his warm hand cradles your nape, reassuring and solid, while the other squeezes against the flesh of your back. this too shall pass. his lips press against your shoulder; reverent, loving, apologetic. i love you.

for a man who has his way with words, there are just as many unspoken words in each of his silent actions. he can only hope it's enough to tide you for tonight. at least for tonight.

“everything hurts.”

“i don’t know what's wrong.”

“i’m so tired.”

there are many things al haitham knows the answer to. those that he doesn't would normally require some deep research, but at the end of the day he comes out a renewed man who could potentially give a few presentations about said topic if he so wished. but matters of the heart are notoriously fickle, complicated, and perhaps ironically beyond human understanding.

“i don’t know how you can help. i don't know how to even help myself.”

all he can do is hold you, and he is plunged into the enlightening pit that is the realization about the powerlessness of a mortal, as he feels the shaking of your body within his arms. the sharp mind he is often praised and insulted for and the body he trains daily for precautions are useless against this intangible enemy.

what was he to say? “it’s okay”? when he couldn’t guarantee that it would be? “you’ll be okay”? wouldn’t that imply you should have the capability to make yourself okay? “it’ll get better”? wouldn’t it be overly optimistic and naive to believe the world will just somehow align itself to pave a path of flowers for you?

too many uncertainties. too lacking of valid evidences to support his case. broken and as worn out as you may be, you are not a fool, and such is a trait that he will continue to adore about you. the treatment as an equal is what you deserve, even when you’re in your lowest moment.

so he settles with something he knows will be factually true and has a complete control over:

“i’m always here for you.”

everyone equates silence to peace, yet often fails to account silence as suffering.

centuries of living, and jing yuan too manages to make the same mistake. there’s something haunting about the way you lay on your shared bed today. and now that he thinks about it more, yesterday… and the days before, too. something unnatural in your smiles, in the way it slips far too quickly and the way you always close your eyes, as if to hide something. the way you keep your nails short, the nail clipper making itself home on your nightstand and used every morning and every night, almost in desperation. the nights where he would fall asleep to your snore are quiet: the room listens to his breaths and the tranquil chirps of the cicadas outside.

silence.

silence.

silence.

silence.

“darling, something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me.”

you look at him like you’re tired of life itself, and his heart freezes. in a second, he drops onto the bed and cups your cheek. by now you should have berated him not to wear his work clothes and climb onto bed with them, and yet all he’s met with is

silence.

and a shaky breath, before you finally speak, soft and uncertain and numb.

“why can’t it all just end, yuan?”

he can give you a hundred reasons. because it means he won’t be able to see you smile anymore. because it means he won’t be able to make you laugh. because it means he won’t be able to kiss you, make love to you, treat you like the priceless treasure…

… that he has utterly failed to do.

“i’m sorry, darling. i was ignorant. when did this start?” he pleads. the man commanding an entire ship that may as well be a nation in itself grovels willingly before you, his hand cradling yours before bringing it up to his lips. your knight nuzzles your palm, observes the way your eyes turns glassy, a tear slowly sliding down your temple onto the halo of your hair.

“let’s end this silence and talk to me…. please?”

“countless times. countless. times…,” his breath shudders, jaw clenching before his lips reopen, “… you tell me, again and again, to be careful with my body. and yet i come back to see this…”

blade’s breath hitches, and perhaps a stab to the heart would be less painful than the way his body seizes up with hurt at the way you promptly apologize, with those godforsaken tears continuing to make a stream of sadness stain your cheeks.

he’s always seen you as a tempered steel, resilient and sharp, yet comforting and reassuring. the star to his night, illuminating and guiding. the sun in his orbit, ever present and shining so brightly.

he forgets that even the strongest blades, too, can break. that any stars can disappear in an instant by a supernova. that a sun continuously burns itself just to shine and will one day, too, burn out like a fizzling candle.

your voice is as cracked as the weapon he wields and it cuts deeper into the scarred remains of his cursed heart. he swallows thickly, yet the lump in his throat refuses to cease. rough hands tightening before his arms bring you into a painful embrace. just like the way you hold him whenever the nightmares visit. he tries to wipe your crystalline tears with his fingers, watches sorrowfully as your swollen eyes glazes and the whites of your eyes fills with red lines. the grief you experience is harrowing, and he wonders if this is how you feel whenever you see him suffer: powerless, bleak, tortured.

“don’t cry.” would it truly suffice to just hold you like this?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to kill everything you’ve ever interacted with so you won’t be hurt further?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to remove himself from your life…?

“i’ll give you everything,” he finds his own voice break, “everything… so please stop crying.”

[simmila]

Girlies! - Part 2

Hello hi hi! Hope you have an amazing spooky day! Today i'm happy to release the second and last part of the Girlies Set! Once again its a mostly clutter pack to decor your sims bedroom or beauty corner. The toys and plushies have a variety of swatches for different characters, and the Sylvanian Families also have different species for each swatch.

This Post will also include a Download for both sets in one click, but if you want the separate packages you can find first set here (x). Part one got a small revamp to some meshes and textures, so i highly recommend to downloading it again, just remember to delete the old file!

---! This pack is now on Early Access, but it will be Available for free on December 30th. !---

THIS PACK INCLUDES A TOTAL OF 16 OBJECTS:

Sanrio Plushie (Includes Cinnamoroll and Capuccino swatches)

Sanrio Pillows (My Melody, Cinnamoroll, Sweet Piano and Pochacco- 2 swatches each)

Kirby Plushie

3 Sylvanian Families / Calico Critters Characters (Choco Bunny, Fennec Fox and Bear)

Flower Knows Lipgloss

Alarm Clock

2x1 Rug

Vintage Knitted Table Cloth

2 Handbags

Slippers

Nightstand, Shelf Ladder & Cupbard

You can find this Pack by typing "Simmila" or "Girlies" on the search bar. --- Patreon: Preview (x) // If you are a member: (x)

Hope you have fun decorating your builds! I will for sure use this one a lot in my save file :). Please tag me if you'd like to share, i love seeing your builds and creations!

With love, Simmila.

[dr-spectre]

The autism representation in Splatoon needs to be studied and celebrated because oh my god it's actually really damn good and some of the best in media, especially compared to how its usually portrayed in popular media....

As someone who is on the spectrum and has been diagnosed, it's really comforting to know that one of my favorite game series has such positive depictions of autism and isn't just stereotypical depictions we commonly see in media.

Autism in most media is either portrayed as white nerdy dudes who are cold robots that have super intelligence, can understand alien languages and see the world like they are a fucking Lego master builder or some shit and see blueprints in the sky like in The Good Doctor or The Big Bang Theory with Sheldon. Or it's portrayed as people who are incredibly disabled, cannot communicate and have constant tantrums as seen with the dogshit movie Music (2021). Literally the depiction of autism in that movie is actually fucking dangerous as it shows a person pushing an autistic person who is having a meltdown onto the ground and RESTRICTING THEM! WHICH IS VERY VERY VERY BAD! DO NOT DO THIS!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!! AUTISTIC PEOPLE HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF THIS!!!!!!!!

Now I'm not saying that these types of autistic people don't exist, remember, it's a spectrum so there's a ton of variety in people who have autism, some people have really high intelligence, some have low social skills and need help, some can talk for hours and hours to anyone, some need serious help to function day to day living and thats perfectly fine. however the type i listed of the super cold robotic genuis is just the really popular stereotype which impacts the perception of autistic people just trying to live and enjoy life like everyone else. Some autistic people are just in the middle and aren't on any of the extremes. There are tons of people who fall into the "low needs" and "high needs" sides of autism of course, however there isn't exactly a ton of representation for people in the middle and sometimes those popular representations of autism can damage the entire perception of the spectrum. And there still isn't a lot of fair representation of "high needs" autistic people in media and that needs to change as well.

Thankfully Splatoon doesn't go for any damaging stereotypes but instead goes for something a little more positive. I think the best examples of this are Marina, Marie and Harmony. While they haven't been canonically confirmed as being on the autism spectrum, they are heavily hinted that they are and show some evidence that supports it.

Harmony for instance is just.... a regular autistic girl, she isn't some incredibly smart girl, no, she's just a regular girl who speaks in a blunt and neutral way but that's about it. As someone who is autistic i can relate somewhat to how she speaks, in real life i tend to just say a few words when talking to someone and i don't really sound energetic or loud about it. i just go "Hey. Hi. Alright. Okay. Oh ok. Uh. I'm good." Some autistic people normally do not speak like they are the nerd emoji and sound hyper smart like Sheldon from Big Bang Theory, and they are not able to speak entirely. That's not what ALL autistic people sound like. There's a decent chunk of them that just speak regularly or speak a little quietly and thats okay. Harmony captures the speech of what a fair portion of autistic people talk like, but not every single autistic person of course. There is a large chunk of autistic people who need support when it comes to communication, and that's perfectly okay. They are just valid as human beings as the ones who can speak.

She also has an interest in music as she is the singer of Chirpy Chips and is seen stimming and fidgeting with an Ultra Hand. Autistic people usually fidget and stim to calm themselves down and keep their emotions in check, maybe Harmony plays with the Ultra Hand because it helps her stay calm when running Hotlantis.

Now it's time to talk about the most popular example of autistic representation in Splatoon. Marina.

She is quite shy when you zoom in on her in Splatoon 2 when you play as an Inkling, but is known to ramble about machinery and excavators to Pearl and Acht for hours at a time. Technology and machinery seem to be a special interest for her as shown with her creating the Shifty Stations for Splatfests, having hacking abilities and building the Memverse. She gets so much energy and excitement from working on the Memverse as shown by her dialogue in the Dev Diaries. However she is not a flawless super genius like in most depictions of autistic characters, she is known to have uncontrollable emotional outbursts, when Pearl even suggests the idea of Off the Hook breaking up she becomes extremely devastated and thinks of the worst case scenario in her dialogue from the Chaos vs Order Splatfest. She sometimes can't control her anger and snaps at Pearl after losing multiple times in a row in Splatfests.

She also has issues with proper work life balance as she overworks herself with working on the Memverse alongside going on a world tour with Pearl, she vents abouts this in her 10th Dev Diary in Side Order. And speaking of order, she chose team order because she wanted to maintain the balance in her life that she has found. A lot of autistic people have strict routines and any changes to that routine will cause them to get really distressed. If someone comes into my space and says "hey we're going out in 10 minutes." I'm gonna get pissed off and be in a terrible mood as my routine has been disrupted and i wanna do something else. Routines give autistic people a lot of comfort and predictability.

Marina's deepest flaw she kept hidden was the desire of a perfect world of order where nothing can change because she's so scared of her new life being destroyed, but she learns to overcome this fear of change with the help of Pearl by the end of Side Order which may inspire autistic people to learn to be more okay with change, even if its very hard.

Marina is also seen wearing her headphones quite often and rarely takes them off which may indicate she might have sensory issues. Some autistic people may suffer with sensory issues and need to wear headphones or certain pieces of clothing to stay calm and keep their emotions from becoming too much. I tend to wear headphones often because i hate my ears being exposed and I'm very sensitive to certain noises.

She also may have another special interest which may be the Squid Sisters as she litters her laptop and keytar with Squid Sister stickers. Marina also talks in a very excited tone when you get Marie's and Callie's palettes in Side Order. She also acts very giddy and excited during live performances with them and starts stimming which is shown by her moving around in place and clamping her hands together.

Another character who you might not think is autistic right away but shows signs of it is Marie. And to be honest i find her to be very relatable.

Marie is known to be more quiet than her cousin and she acted like this since she was a child. Marie also seems to struggle with social situations and struggles to talk with Agent 4 and Neo Agent 3 and wishes they can just leave her alone when you keep talking to her. However she seems to be a lot more comfortable talking with people she trusts and loves like her cousin Callie. She also makes quite snarky and sometimes rude comments but that doesn't mean she's a rude person, she just likes being cheeky and truly cares about the people around her. She even self loathes and worries about her cousin to an unhealthy degree.

A lot of people tend to say that autistic people have low empathy when in reality some autistic people are far from the case. Some autistic people might be TOO empathetic but they cannot show it because it's just so much for them that they can't properly express it. Marie may appear as rude and non caring but she's genuinely a very caring and emotional person but she doesn't know how to show it due to not having developed communication skills compared to neurotypical people. A fair amount of autistic people are not shy people that don't care about you, they just have a different way of speech and communication. 2 autistic people can talk vastly different from each other. It is a spectrum after all. There are some who may have low empathy, but they are not psychopaths who don't care about human life. It's really, really weird to think that and kind of damaging to see autistic people in that kind of light.

Marie is also known to be a picky eater and despises vegetables, refuses to eat the ends of bread loafs, hates tomatoes and pineapple on pizza. (she's literally me holy shit...) some autistic people can have sensory issues when it comes to certain textures and smells and vegetables usually have a weird texture compared to meats and other food groups. They can be seen as "picky eaters" that don't wanna try anything but, some autistic people genuinely cannot eat certain foods and may get sick in the stomach if they see that food and would rather eat anything else. You cannot get me to eat carrots, like I'm sorry but that's not happening buddy. I don't care if they are baked or boiled, i refuse to put that shit in my mouth.

She was also on team order like Marina as she likes to keep things nice and tidy like with most autistic people. Not all but most.

A little tidbit i wanna add as well is that since Splatoon 2, Marie has been seen holding an parasol and for seemingly no reason. Some may say she holds it to seem more professional, however i think she has it around because she likes to hold it in her hands and use it to fidget with, much like Harmony with the Ultra Hand. You can see her spin it around when you stay around her for a little bit in Splatoon 3's story mode. Although I might be looking too deeply into this but i think it might be a cute little detail.

I find it really fantastic that Splatoon not only has good representations of autism, but it's also pretty diverse and shows different elements of the spectrum. Not every single aspect of the spectrum as there isn't an example of a high needs autistic character in Splatoon that I can think of unfortunately, but if you can think of a character who may be in the high needs category of the spectrum then let me know, however we got a pale skinny sea anemone who runs a general store and uses an Ultra Hand to fidget with, a tall black woman who's extremely passionate about machinery and technology, and a Japanese squid woman who would rather eat a Splattershot than a tomato. (Callie and Marie are based off of Japanese culture, look at their clothing and styles of music. If they were humans they would not be white women, sorry to break it to you bud.)

Before this ends i wanna say, if you disagree with me then that's fine. I get it. They aren't canonically confirmed to be on the autism spectrum and a lot of this is just speculation and observation. However don't be a fucking dick about it okay? Don't say that i don't know anything about autism and that I'm crazy and dumb. Don't do that shit. Seriously. I am allowed to look deeper into these characters and find relatability and comfort in them. Don't try to make me feel like a freak for this.

Anyways if i did get something wrong about autism let me know in a fair and polite way. I am human and I'm gonna make mistakes, but don't be a dickhead about it, k? Good. Have a goodnight or good day wherever you live.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

F*CK, KILL, MARRY — nsfw alphabet w john wick (&femreader)

[Warnings: NSFW, discussion of various sexual and kink topics that are 0% canon and 100% my fantasies opinions] gif cred: @lunaspacks & @gifpacklove

[A]ftercare

The literal king of aftercare. It does not matter what kind of sex you’re having with John—even if it’s of the slowest and sensualist variety—he’s making sure you’re clean, kissed, snuggled, and hydrated afterwards.

[B]ody Part

What part of your body does this man not consider his favorite part, is the better question? Seems like his goal in life is to get every little piece of your flesh—especially the batches you don’t like—into his mouth and hands so he can convince you how much he loves, craves, pines after all of you. Speaking of hands, of course you love his chunky, scarred, battle worn fingers. And, since that seems to be your favorite part of him, he’s happy to agree, and wiggle his digits in front of you every once in a while as a teasing reminder of just how much you like them.

[C]um

The only thing John Wick likes teasing more than you, is himself. He’s entirely too good at keeping you both up all night either cumming or just on the precipice of it, so, by the time you’re both spent, things tend to be sticky and soaked in more than just sweat and saliva.

[D]irty Secret

There’s nothing he keeps from you, really. If you’re into it, he’s into it, and vice versa. Look at those puppy dog eyes and tell me you’re gonna tell this man no if he wants to suck your toes.

[E]xperience

Might have been a bit of a whore in his younger days, when he was still trying different bad coping skills for dealing with his own self loathing. Present, John has to really have that emotional attraction for his pants to get tighter, but he absolutely knows his way around female anatomy—as evidenced by yours and his soaked sheets.

[F]avorite Position

Either his face tucked up inside your pussy so deep his hair gets wet (John Wick’s favorite activity is making you cum in his mouth), or your knees hooked over his shoulders so he can watch your eyes roll back in your head while he reaches screaming, teeth gnashing, hellishly pleasurable depths.

[G]oofy

This one very much depends on his mood, although he’s not opposed to play fights and chasing you around the house a little bit before bending you over the couch and fucking his winning prize. He’s more playful than not most of the time, always teasing and sly, grinning against your lips and nuzzling your thighs and starting tickle fights —which may just be the only sort of fight he actually loses (sometimes).

[H]air

This man is not shaving that often these days…Something(one) else is taking up his free time. Plus, he loves to see beard burn on your skin—it means you’re his. He truly does not care at all about your body hair; whether you shave or don’t, he’s still burying his face in your cunt.

[I]ntimacy

Loving and fucking go hand in hand for him; where there is no love, there is no fuck. If he’s fucking you, he’s loving you at the same time, sometimes so deeply and intensely that the emotion becomes more overwhelming than the actual sex, which is a feat of its own. Constantly saying the dirtiest, sweetest shit to you—commanding your attention again when you try to bury your head in a pillow or close your eyes for some reprieve from his attention.

[J]ack off

You’ve both made a maddening deal that you won’t cum unless you’re in the other’s presence. It gets exceedingly frustrating at times, especially when he decides to come home from a week-long contract and then edge you out of your fucking mind for a few hours before he sends you to heaven and back on his cock

[K]ink

Hide and seek — spoiler: you always lose. Topping from the bottom — whatever you’re into, he’s into. Whatever you want, he’ll give it a try with enthusiasm. He loves pleasing you, serving you, giving you everything that you ask for and then some. John Wick is a service sub at heart, even if he takes the dominant roll to prove it. Edging and overstimulating — Living a life of pain, agony, and heartbreak has made him appreciate the finer things in life, like his cock and your cunt aching so desperately it becomes painful. He can spend all day nibbling your ears, teasing you with dark promises, brushing against your little sensitive spots, and then all night kissing your swollen clit and tickling your gspot and fucking you slow and devastatingly softly. And then there’s his love for receiving edges, leaking pools of precum while you tease his cock and kiss his tummy and nibble his hipbones.

[L]ocation

Private. He wants you to himself. The thought of someone else seeing or touching you, unless it’s something you really crave, makes him want to break bones stuff. Besides some hand holding and light cheek pecks in public, he’s not one for PDA.

[M]otivation

You don’t have to try to turn John on, which is both a blessing and a curse. More than once have you purchased a pair of cute (not even that sexy underwear) that he has ripped in half so that his impatient mouth can latch onto your pussy. He also adores femininity in all its purest forms—pretty sundresses, little strappy heels and sandals, the curves and soft places on your body, your cute giggles and soft touch and adorable pouting. Even better if you’re naturally not feminine to begin with, and take on a more masculine role; he loves to bring the little lady out in you, and take care of her.

[N]o

John will get a little rough if you ask; spank you, fuck your soul into the next life, a little bit of facefucking, but all the while he’s checking in on you, making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, giving you little breaks. He’s just naturally so sweet to you, it’s hard for him to complete a rough session without constant reassurance from his babydoll. So, gags are a no. He wants to—likes to—hear you, and he doesn’t need something obstructing that.

[O]ral

There are two ways that this could go. 1) With Wick slurping between your squishy thighs until dawn, delaying one orgasm after another until you’re sobbing and thrashing, until he finally lets you cum with his pruned fingers fucking up inside and sore tongue on your massively swollen clit. 2) With Baba Yaga burying his face into your folds, still in the sweaty work suit and maybe even a little blood on his tie, and taking you to heaven and back until he thinks you’re wet and stretched enough—spoiler, you are both of those things as soon as you see him…as soon as he opens his mouth—to take his cock.

[P]ace

Quick, bruising fucks in the car. Weekends in his woodsy, romantic cabin where you spend more time on his dick than off. Slow tonguing on the kitchen counter. Riding him on the doorstep while he’s in his suit when he just wants to get you off one more time before he goes off on a long job.

[Q]uickie

He prefers slow and sensual and teasing, but sometimes his cock disagrees with all that. He’s a man, after all, has needs. When he gets that haunted, dark, narrowed, pussy hungry look in his eyes—you’re fucked. You don’t know this, and he might not either, but that’s the same look he gets when he’s hunting a target.

[R]isk

What is the need for it? You’re his, completely. He doesn’t require added adrenaline when you’re around—you are his high.

[S]tamina

Y/n: *slaps John Wick’s ass* trust me, this baby can go for miles. Wait no, no, John-JOhN! Listen!—

[T]oys

As familiar as he is with the world and how it runs, he himself is a bit old school. That means holding doors open and putting you on the opposite side of the sidewalk away from traffic, but it also means he prefers to get you off with himself rather than any plastics or silicones—that is until you showed him just how fun they could be. Now, he may be initially resistant to vibrators and dildos, but that doesn’t mean he’s not privy to other tools that aid in your undoing—feathers, belts, ties, rope, his gun (unloaded, of course, don’t worry).

[U]nfair

Sometimes you feel like all the stoic, broody, dark assassin does is tease you. Not that you’re complaining, as long as his tongue or his fingers or his teeth are on you.

[V]olume

John Wick is a man of focus, determination, and sheer will power—but, make no mistake, he whimpers for you just as often as he growls.

[W]ild card

John didn’t think he’d get much out of thigh riding, until he saw you completely bare grinding your soaked cunt against the tensed muscles of his leg while he remained full on suited in black. Your fingers wrapped around his tie, the thick Kevlar of his jacket, rumpling and dampening the pristine white shirt underneath, mouth open and panting, flushed and grinding, desperate to get yourself off, nipples plucked swollen and dark by his fingers.

[X]-ray

Big Wick Energy. And, surprisingly, something you love to bite and poke, a cute little permanent pudge on his lower tummy amongst the hard panes of ab and tendon and muscle.

[Y]earning

If you’re both in good health—alright, sometimes even if you’re not (see: bullet and stab wounds, period cramps, broken bones)—you’re fucking. Often and earnestly. Debauching every available surface as soon as you get through the doors of each other's dwellings. He’s spent a lifetime training to kill, honing his body into the perfect weapon, building his inhuman stamina, unsure of why he was doing all of it in the first place—until he realized it was the universe’s grand design to assist him with fucking you whenever and wherever he wants; even when you get tired and he has to use you past the point where you can’t move or speak or think. As you’ve come to learn, it doesn’t matter if you’re too cockdrunk to assist, because John can fuck for the both of you.

[Z]zzzzzz

When he’s actually done, he’s out immediately. Just one of those common manly traits you like to poke fun at him for. At least he sleeps, now.

[meanbossart]

i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

[earlysunshines]

sparks on ice

hanni pham x reader ; fluff

synopsis: hanni’s friends force her out the house to ice skate knowing she is completely incapable of doing so and that fact is proven when she falls onto some random stranger—you.

warnings: NONE! pure fluff… ; okay well the usual… they’re GAY. ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: i went ice skating w some friends and our whole friend group of eight, including me, has six gay ppl and one of two straight ppl… the MAN, falls onto the MALE worker and it looked really really fruiticous and i can’t stop giggling thinking ab it and its sooo hanni core so i HAD to write it

hanni has no clue why she’s letting her friends drag her out to go ice skating.

not only hanni is aussie—and that doesn’t mean ice skating doesn’t exist in melbourne—it’s the fact that she hasn’t ice skated since primary school. the memory of slipping more times than she can count on one hand doesn’t make her the most confident in the room.

she’s squeezing into skates a size down from her usual size, feeling the pressure against her feet and letting danielle helping her lace her shoes like a mother.

“you’re not nervous?” hanni asks.

“no! i mean, i’ve skated a few times back home. shouldn’t be too bad,” danielle simply shrugs as she double knots the last laces. “i might be rusty though.” 

knowing danielle, she’ll probably be gliding across the ice like a professional within half an hour, spinning and skating backward by the end of their session. 

minji snickers, looking over at hanni and grinning. “i can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.”

“you’re a terrible person.” hanni nudges minji over with her shoulder. “you did this on purpose.”

“yes,” minji says before nudging hanni back, earning a giggle from danielle and hyein, “but ice skating is just as fun as it is humiliating. more fun than humiliating, maybe.”

hanni rolls her eyes, getting up and nearly losing her balance from the feeling of mere blades holding her weight. she purses her lips, sighing as she clings onto danielle’s arm while they walk over and out to the rink.

there’s a variety of others skating—families, couples, friends—it makes hanni a little nervous. minji looks over and chuckles, tilting her head over to motion the rest over. “c’mon! we have less than ninety minutes now.” she says, stepping into the rink like it’s second nature. 

danielle steps in first, gliding forward with a slight wobble but quickly finding her rhythm. hanni follows instantly, clinging to the edge of the rink with one hand and danielle’s pinky with her other. she feels like a baby deer.

“you alright there?” danielle asks, a hint of worry and amusement in her tone.

“define ‘okay,’” hanni says with a wary expression as she inches forward. 

minji glides past them effortlessly, smirking as she spins around to face them while skating backward. “not bad han, you look like a pro~”

“you’re being sarcastic,” hanni snaps, glaring as she clutches onto both danielle and the railing for dear life. “i hope you slip and fall on your ass.”

hyein skates up beside them, laughing. “don’t worry hanni, i bet you’ll do great. just keep clinging onto dani and maybe… you’ll learn?”

“shut up, i hate you.” hanni groans.

danielle laughs, letting go of hanni for a bit. “you should learn on your own, i can teach you a bit!”

“dani! noooo,” hanni whines, “please, i’m actually going to slip on my ass. please dani… please…”

“hanni,” danielle shakes her head as she giggles, skating a little further and closer to hyein as she watches hanni cling for her life. “just take two steps and glide, it’s a rhythm that you have to get into.”

“okay well i’m completely out of rhythm then.” hanni sighs, staring down at her feet. 

she loses balance for a bit, nearly falling before she clings to the railing again. minji laughs—her signature cackle—as she captures it on her phone. 

the group lingers by for a bit, watching hanni as she struggles to stay a foot away from the railing, nearing closer to a fall with each step. hanni doesn’t give up though, trailing behind danielle and hyein as fast as she can while they watch over her.

hanni improves around thirty minutes in, being able to stay a few feet away from the railing now as she develops a faster pace. she’s nearing danielle’s tempo, but her arms are still out as she tries to keep her balance. they swing around her with each step and glide, but what matters is that hanni has some grasp of the technique.

that’s what she thinks, at least.

as if on cue, contradicting what she had believed prior, her skate catches and she loses her balance. her arms flail, a small squeak slips from her lips, and for a horrifying second she’s sure she’s about to crash onto the ice.

much to her surprise, she falls into someone’s arms instead—a firm, warm hold that keeps her from hitting the ground. 

“whoa, you alright?” the voice is calm but slightly startled. you steady her slowly. “i gotcha.”

hanni looks up and realizes she’s in the arms of one of the rink workers. the worker, a girl who looks around her age wears a staff jacket and a concerned expression. 

the worker, you, also have a pretty face. your faces are a breath apart, and the lights surrounding the rink bring a little glint to your eyes—they also highlight your unique features that she’s glancing at in the heat of the moment.

hanni feels her cheeks burn as she scrambles to stand on her own, muttering, “i’m fine! i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” you say sweetly, smiling at her as you brush it off. hanni’s heart is racing, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the way you look at her or the fall. “don’t worry about it. just take it slow, yeah?”

hanni nods.

“try to keep your knees a little more bent.” you giggle, smiling bigger now. “and your posture doesn’t have to be perfect, if it helps you can bend forward just slightly. relax.” 

hanni nods again, like a stupid idot. her cheeks burn as she tries to compose herself. “right. knees bent. thanks, um, yeah. great.”

your hands linger for a moment longer than they should, but maybe hanni’s overthinking it—she doesn’t mind, though.

“and maybe don’t stray off too far into the rink. wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” you add, a teasing lilt in your voice.

hanni can’t help but laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “got it.”

your smile widens slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the rink faded in the background.

“you’re sure you’re okay?” you ask once more, gaze flickering over to hanni’s face, as if checking fro any signs of lingering distress. and maybe you’re appreciating her soft features too. 

“yeah, i’m good. really—now that you’re here,” hanni breathes out before her eyes widen, “i mean! not in a weird way. sorry, that was so… intimate. oh my god. i just mean, um, thanks for catching me.”

you give her a soft laugh. “anytime.” you reply, tone warm but light. 

hanni wanted to keep the conversation going, to steal you away from your job for no apparent reason. but before she could do so, you give her a quick nod and skate off, moving with an effortless grace that left hanni feeling even more off balance.

“so,” minji says, skating up beside her with a grin that spreads from ear to ear, “what happened there?”

hanni jumps a bit from the sudden awareness of minji’s presence, desperately reaching out for minji’s shoulders to stop herself from falling. “shut up!” hanni grains, her face heating up as she tightens her grip on minji’s shoulder.

“that was something out of a romance movie. you should fall into her again—for science. she’s so your type. taller, nice face, oh! and—”

“i’ll kill you.” hanni shoves minji a bit, disturbing their balance simultaneously before hanni searches for minji’s shoulder again to keep herself from falling.

danielle and hyein skate up to the two a few seconds later, giggling and furthering the teasing that minji started. hanni rolls her eyes as she skates with them, still distracted from the encounter.

the rest of the session is a mix of wobbly attempts and minor victories, but hanni can’t stop thinking about how you caught her. she keeps glanicng over, watching you glide across the ice as if it were like walking while you monitor the rest of the people there. 

you glance at hanni a few times as well, accidentally making eye contact. your heart races all three times it happens.

—

if hanni had a coin for each time she had bumped into you that week, she’d have two, which isn’t a lot, but it’s mind-blowing how it’s happened more than once.

a few days later hanni is hurrying towards her bus while juggling her phone in one hand and a back of snacks in the other. she rounds the corner too fast and crashes into someone—not on ice this time, but the same person.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry—” she starts, only to look up and realize it’s you.

“it’s— oh, it’s you,” you seem as shocked as you do amused. your brows are raised and your lips twitch into a smile. “this is like deja vu, or something.” you tease, steadying her by the arm before she can drop the snacks she bought for her friends.

hanni feels her face heat up immediately. “y-you, hi. um… thanks for not letting me fall—again.”

“anytime,” you reassure, you said the same last time. hanni swallows shallowly. you have the same warm, steady presence she remembers as you look and speak to her. “are you headed towards the stop down the street too?”

“yeah,” hanni replies, falling into step beside you. “are you—? are you headed the same way.”

“yup.” you respond.

as you both walk, the conversation starts small and hanni is trying to do everything but look you in the eye. you've only given each other your names and still she’s nervous along with embarrassed from your first encounter, but also flustered from how you look even cuter outside of your work. you’re talking about the weather, complaining about the bus schedule, and when the topic shifts to ice skating—you glance at her. 

your smile turns a little softer as you admit, “you know, you kind of made my night during that shift.”

hanni blinks, caught off guard. “me? you’re joking, right?”

you shake your head. “i mean, most of the time it’s just kids screaming or people falling over and pushing me away when i try to help. embarrassment gets the best of us.” you say, grinning. “but you? you were… different. you were really sweet, and amusing to help. it was endearing.”

hanni snickers, “pftt, endearing? you’re teasing me.”

“nope.” you shrug, turning your head just a bit to make eye contact with her.

her heart stumbles over itself at your words, and she fiddles with the strap of her bag to keep her hands busy. “i’m glad i could, um, help.”

you both board the bus, sit next to each other, and the conversation flows more easily after that. you ask her what she does, and she tells you about her classes and how much teasing she has to endure from her friends. you share stories about odd encounters at the rink and how annoying your major can be. it’s natural, comfortable, but there’s something more that’s in the air.

as the bus pulls up to teh stop, you turn to her, your smile turning just a little more timid. “you know, i thought— well i still do. i think… i think you’re really cute, by the way. you’re gorgeous.”

hanni freezes for half a second, her cheeks flushing. “oh,” she says then laughs nervously. “thank you. i kind of thought the same about you. you’re cute.” her voice gets quieter as her sentence had ended.

your grin widens at that, and you take out your phone, holding it toward her. “well, if you’re not completely traumatized by ice skating—maybe you’d let me teach you one-on-one?”

she hesitates for only a moment before giving you her number, feeling a mix of far too much swirling in her chest. hanni is definitely red, she can feel it.

“i’m not against it.”

“it’s a date, then? or is that too forward.” you ask as the bus doors open, stepping up onto the platform.

“i think we’re past whatever ‘forward’ is, especially after our first meeting….” hanni jokes, raising her voice so you can hear. her heart races as she nods, not sparing a second to say, “it’s a date.” before the door closes.

she catches you smiling at her, teeth and all now, before the bus drives away. hanni giggles to herself, smiling out the window before she pulls out her phone,

hanni: guys guys i just guys i have a date with the cute ice skating worker the one i fell on

minji: you WHAT.

[eddies-ashtray]

You Get Me Closer To God // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: Your best friend sleeps over.

WC: 2.3k

Category: Smut (18+).

Content: Friends to lovers, mean, pervy Eddie, dom/sub dynamics (?), virgin!reader, name calling (of the ‘whore’ & ‘slut’ variety), nice nicknames (of the ‘sweetheart’ & ‘baby’ variety), 1 dacryphilia mention, mocking, dumbification if you squint, humiliation kink ig, teasing, vaginal penetration without the use of a condom (don’t try this at home, folks), some hand-on-neck action + a squeeze but no actual choking, multiple orgasms, and Eddie referring to himself as ‘master’ a grand total of one (1) time! 

♡*♡*♡

You weren’t sure how it had happened, but your best friend was on top of you. His cock was hard against your thigh. His gentle breath was fanning across your face.

It was supposed to be a regular sleepover at your house. But then there had been this energy in the air. This tension. It wasn’t new, you’d felt it before. You’d felt it every night he’d slept in bed with you and hadn’t touched you. Every morning you woke up and felt his hardness against your ass, but pretended like it wasn’t there. But now, here he was, above you, his hand stuffed up your shirt, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You whimper weakly below him.

With only the low light of your nightlight in the corner of your bedroom, all you can see is his face. Those deep brown eyes staring intently into yours. Measuring your every movement, your every breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Eddie says, pain lacing his tone. You shiver involuntarily at his words and gasp sharply when he tweaks your nipple meanly between his fingers. Wetness drips from your slick hole like it’s weeping, crying out for him. “I knew you were a virgin, but Christ, sweetheart, no one’s ever even groped your pretty tits before, have they?” Eddie asks rhetorically, squeezing your breast to emphasize his point.

Your resulting squeak is answer enough for him. You feel like you could cry, it’s all so overwhelming; his body weight on top of you–somehow menacing, but comforting all at once–, his rough hands groping you, his proximity, his scent, his words.

Tilting his head at you, Eddie coos at your pout, at the glassy quality of your eyes.

“You’re just a pathetic little virgin, huh? Too shy to tell me what you want. Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted to you. Isn’t that right, angel?”

Your face warms and you feel hot all over as your cunt throbs desperately. You would let him do anything he wanted to you. So you nod ever so slightly and Eddie’s brows knit together.

“Of course you would. Cause even though no one’s stuffed you full of cock yet, you’re just a desperate whore.”

Whining at his words, your back arches into his body, trying to get impossibly closer, trying to fuse as one.

“Yes,” You agree.

Eddie rolls his hips into yours and groans at the friction. He’s only in his boxers, that’s how he sleeps. Even when he’s in bed with you. He’s thick and long and you need him inside of you right now. You think you might die or explode or scream if he doesn’t stuff you full at this very moment. But you know he won’t. Because he wants to torture you. Wants to rile you up, make you cry. He’d told you so, confessed it to you in the darkness just before this all began.

“And because you’re a desperate whore, I bet your panties are soaked. I bet you’re drenched and leaking onto the sheets…Why don’t I check?”

Nodding vigorously, you beg, “Please, please.”

With that, his hand begins its slow descent down your body, his rough palm running down the length of your torso until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts. Instead of sliding underneath them however, Eddie keeps his hand moving. You gasp as it passes over your mound, and then choke out a moan when his large hand cups your hot cunt, pressing into the soft material of your shorts and rubbing harshly.

“Oh, look at that. You soaked right through your shorts, baby. How pathetic,” Eddie teases, then leans down as he continues rubbing you harshly over your shorts. His mouth envelopes your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, nipping at it.

You whine underneath him, kicking your legs out in frustration.

“Eddie, please! I want-” But you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. Not even now when he has you shaking beneath him from a simple hand over your sex.

His movements cease and his mouth releases your breast with a pop. Eddie stares up at you darkly, his eyes simmering in the low light.

“What was that?”

“I-I-” You stutter, unable to just say it.

Eddie removes his hand from you completely and you whine again, pout returning to your lips.

“Tell me or I leave you here, wet, and hot, and needing, while I go tug my cock in the bathroom,” He threatens, and you know he’s serious. Know that he would leave you here. Know that he would go straight to your bathroom, pull his cock free from his boxers, and you would be cursed to listen to the slick sound of his hand tugging at his cock until he came over his fist.

You huff like a petulant child, not wanting to have to say it. Not wanting to admit it aloud.

“Fine,” Eddie says, pushing himself off of you.

“Wait!” You whisper-shout in a panic. Eddie stops, but doesn’t lower himself back over you quite yet.

His brow quirks.

When you don’t say anything for a moment, Eddie says, “I’m waiting.”

Sighing and squeezing your eyes shut in complete humiliation, you will the words to leave your mouth.

“I need your–your cock,” You say, whispering the final word far quieter than the first three.

Eyes still squeezed shut, you can’t tell what Eddie’s reaction had been. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. So, you open one of your eyes slowly, trying to sneak a peak at him.

“Say it again,” Eddie demands when your one eye finds his. “Louder. Eyes open.”

You open your other eye. Eddie holds eye contact, tilts his head at you expectantly.

Drawing in a breath, you muster all the courage in your body to try and say it again.

“I need your cock.��

Eddie’s lips quirk up in a smirk as he lowers himself back onto you and leans in closely, down by your ear; so close his lips graze the sensitive skin of your lobe.

“Good girl.”

You huff, frustrated by his teasing, but your belly burns with lust, betraying the air of annoyance you’re trying to give off.

“But first… I wanna play with this sweet, little cunt.”

You barely have time to register his words, to allow them to sink in and affect you before Eddie is tearing your shorts down your legs in one quick motion and literally tearing your panties in two. Just as quickly, his nimble fingers are drawing slick up from the leaking well of your hole, all the way up to your throbbing clit.

Your arms fly to his shoulders, longing for something to hold onto. “Fuck!”

“There you go, sweetheart. I know it feels good, let it out,” Eddie encourages as his index finger rubs a harsh pattern against the hard little button.

“Mmph!” You squeak, slamming your eyes shut and shoving your face into your shoulder. It feels so much better than your own fingers, so much better than when you shamefully rub the little nub to thoughts of your long-haired, ring-wearing, metal-obsessed best friend until you soak your panties with your cum.

“Nuh-uh, give me your eyes, baby. Give me your eyes, or I stop.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but can’t bring yourself to tilt your head so you’re face-to-face with the man who’s touching you. When you don’t do as you’re told, Eddie’s free hand comes up from its place on your hip where he was holding you down to grip your face meanly, squashing your cheeks together and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

Your mouth falls open in a wanton moan, brows knitted together at the pleasure-pain, at his meanness. Eddie mocks you, his mouth dropping open with an embarrassing imitation of the sound that just left you. It just makes you wetter, makes you gush over his fingers as they speed up over your clit.

“G-gonna cum!”

“Aw, how cute,” Eddie coos. “Can’t even last a full five minutes with my fingers on this sweet little button.”

And you can’t. His mean teasing is what shoves you over the edge. What has you pushing your head back into the pillow below your head while little pops of light explode behind your eyelids. While tension uncoils in your belly and your hole clenches pathetically around nothing.

Heaving in great breaths as you come down, Eddie continues his assault on your clit. You whine, shrinking away from his touch. But Eddie doesn’t stop.

“Too sensitive,” You whine, pouting up at him.

“Don’t care. Wanna see you cum again,” Eddie demands, leaning down to kiss and suck marks into your neck. You gasp at the sting of pain before Eddie soothes over the mark with his tongue. The sensation makes you shiver.

“Can I-can I at least have your cock?” You ask, still trembling, and you have no idea where the confidence to say this came from, but it halts his movements, and Eddie pulls back to look you in the face. He eyes you with curiosity.

His free hand comes up from your hip once again, rising goosebumps over your belly and your chest, before stopping at the base of your throat. Ever so slowly, his hand wraps around your neck, and he squeezes gently once. Your eyes are pleading, but confused. Curious.

“Okay,” Eddie replies simply.

His answer surprises you. You were expecting him to mock you or outright say no and continue rubbing your sensitive clit.

“But you owe me two more orgasms now,” Eddie conditions, and you swallow harshly. Of course his answer had come with a price.

You’ve never cum more than once, how are you supposed to give him two more? But you can’t resist; your hole clenching around nothing when you’d cum had made you want to cry. You’ve never felt so empty in your life. So, you agree. And the second you do, Eddie is shoving his boxers down and pushing your legs apart, lining himself up with your slick entrance.

He doesn’t push in right away though. He paints his pink tip up your messy cunt and rubs it harshly into your clit, causing you to whimper in pleasure-pain.

Sniffling, you beg, “Please, Eddie. Want it inside.”

“You just look so cute like this, though. Clenching around nothing, a sticky mess of your own cum. You’re too sweet for your own good.”

“But-” Before you can finish the rest of your complaint, Eddie grips himself at the base and guides his cock down to your weeping hole, pushing just the leaking tip inside. You gasp in shock.

Then, he pushes in all the way, stuffs you so full you can’t remember where you end and he begins. And it hurts. But not as much as you thought it might. Just a little pressure, a slight pinch. But you’re wet enough that he just slides in easily, and the sound. Oh, God, the sound! It’s slick and dirty and so delicious.

Eddie groans at the perfect slide, at the velvety feeling of your walls around him, so tight, little stars appear in his vision. His arms are braced by your head, causing his hair to become a curtain around you, unable to see anything else but him. Unable to feel anything else but him.

His thrusts are slow and so, so deep. He reaches a place inside of you you hadn’t known existed before tonight.

Your hands come up around his neck and tangle in his hair at the base of his neck.

“You like being full, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, bringing his hand up to brush the sweat off your brow.

“Y-yes…Oh, God,” You moan when his thrusts become harder. Not any faster, just harder, slamming right into a glorious spot inside of you. “There! Right there!”

“Oh, that’s it, huh? There you go…I know, baby, I got you,” He says, repeatedly thrusting in at the same rhythm and angle, hitting that wonderful spot every single time. Then, he brings one of his hands down and starts to toy with your clit again. Most of the sensitivity you had felt earlier is gone now. It only intensifies your pleasure.

“Fuck! Feels good.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum again?”

“Mhm, please!”

“Okay, sweet thing, okay,” Eddie consoles, far sweeter than before as he continues rubbing your clit. And it feels good, but something is missing. And you’re so far gone by now that you feel no shame when you say: “Want you to be mean again. Please.”

Chucking darkly, Eddie applies more pressure into your clit and you nearly scream.

“Now that’s pathetic. You’re just a dumb slut who needs to be bullied in order to cum, is that it?”

“Yes!” You admit.

Eddie’s thrusts become quicker now as his thumb flies over your clit. He moans, head falling into the crook of your neck, trying his hardest not to cum just yet.

“Cum for me then. Cum for your master like the good, stupid slut you are,” Eddie demands in a strained voice, his hips crashing into yours with a force that shoves you further up the bed.

It’s that which pushes you over. His meanness and his dirty pace and rhythm. Cumming for the second time tonight, your ears ring and you can’t even hear yourself whining as you gush all over his cock, clenching around him, feeling deliciously full of him.

Vaguely, after a moment, you hear Eddie’s voice. Something like, such a good girl, did so well. Slowly, you come back to the world, and you can feel him inside of you still. Still hard.

Eddie is stroking your cheek softly with his clean thumb.

“There she is,” He says when your eyes finally focus on him. You smile lazily up at him, drunk on his cock. “Feelin’ good?”

“Mhm,” You hum, totally blissed out, ready to pass out right this second.

“Good. Cause we’re gonna do it again. Because you, my sweet thing, owe me one more.”

[hellfire--cult]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}

Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}

WC: 13.1 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.

Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.

A wolf.

A fox.

A blank face.

A goat.

A clown.

There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 

He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.

Tonight, his name was Demon.

He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.

Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 

There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 

“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.

“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”

The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 

“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”

The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 

“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 

And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.

“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.

The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.

Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.

“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 

He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 

Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 

Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 

She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.

So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 

But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.

She was going to be his, no matter the cost.

“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 

And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 

The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 

Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.

You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 

Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.

Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.

“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 

“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.

This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 

And he was more than happy to oblige.

“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.

“She will.”

The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.

“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”

At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 

He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 

The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 

After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.

BANG.

His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.

“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 

Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 

One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 

His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 

He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 

“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 

“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.

“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.

“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 

So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.

“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 

“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 

“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.

He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 

“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.

“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.

His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.

He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.

SNAP. CRACK.

“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.

“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 

“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 

“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 

The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.

Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.

He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 

The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.

He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.

“You should come down from the trees.”

A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Your ears are very perceptive.” 

 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 

“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.

“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.

“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.

“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.

Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.

His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.

He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.

Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.

He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.

He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.

“Caught you.” 

Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.

“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.

You.

“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.

Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.

“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 

“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.

“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.

“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.

“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 

His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 

“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 

You’re free.

Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.

The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 

You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.

Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.

“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.

Like a small bunny.

“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 

“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.

“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 

“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 

“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”

“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 

Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.

Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 

You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 

His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.

He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 

His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 

He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 

“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”

“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”

You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.

“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.

“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.

“Wh–”

“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.

He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.

“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.

“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.

“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.

Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.

“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 

He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.

You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.

Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.

Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.

“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.

He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 

He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 

You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.

Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.

His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 

He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.

“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.

He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 

You were now part of his home.

A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.

His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.

“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.

“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 

“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 

“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.

“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.

“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 

SMACK.

You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.

Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.

Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.

“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.

“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.

“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 

He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 

His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.

“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 

And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.

His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 

Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 

“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.

“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.

“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.

“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.

He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 

He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 

You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 

He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 

“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 

“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”

He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.

“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.

“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.

“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 

“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.

He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.

“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.

“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.

Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.

“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 

“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.

“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.

“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.

You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.

Your new home.

“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.

“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.

“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 

“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.

“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.

“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.

“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.

“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.

“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”

“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.

“I’m the hunter next year.”

“He’s all yours.”

Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.

Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?

REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.

A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.