#i'm the flavour of fucked up that drives people away

[exospherethoughts]

This isn't about you, but it's something I wish I could talk to you about, and I can't because if I try to then it'll be a wall of text I send you and it will be ignored. Or met with some short "thanks for sharing" type message. Even if you asked to call me, I don't think you want to do emotional vulnerability with me anymore, so the void gets this instead.

I wish my mind could grasp onto solid feelings and thoughts, but catching fleeting ideas or keeping track of a single coherent thought process is much akin to attempting to juggle thirteen wet thin bars of soap whilst rattling off the periodic table of elements in order. To communicate any of those bars of soap in a sensical and terse manner is practically impossible. It's highly frustrating to live inside my head, and when I think too hard about it, I want to tear my hair out. I'm trapped in a mental prison and I have no way of reaching out between the bars to talk about it or even just hold someone's hand. It's as though the version of me in my head is completely separate from that which everyone in the real world perceives, and when I let myself be consciously aware of that disconnect or try to reconcile the two entities, I run into walls, I feel trapped, and I panic. There is no way out.

Yet here I am, desperately trying to communicate it anyways. None of what I just wrote adequately describes what I've been experiencing my entire life (although it's been getting worse and worse lately as I become more aware of it), but I am trying. Maybe one day I'll land on the right combination of words for it. Probably not, but I can try.

I wonder how much of this summer I'll remember. Will it be lost to the depths of my mind like every other summer? Is it really just summers that are bad, or am I just telling myself that because I don't want to admit that every single month of my life ends up fading away so quickly, it's like my life only started two or three weeks ago?

What strange plane of existence is my mind on? Today was objectively good. I spent time with someone I really enjoy being around, they have been *incredibly* generous with their time and knowledge, I was productive today, I went outside, I got to do some crosswords, my smoothie this morning tasted good, I socialized with some fellow grad students, it was an objectively good day. I should be happy. I should feel connected and valued and appreciative and like I matter. But when I was walking home, I felt empty. The version of me that walks around and talks to people and makes facial expressions did all those things today. The version of me that exists in my head was holding her breath all day, for who knows what reason. Despite having felt like I was mentally present all day, it was as though that was a false perception, because once I was alone it was as though I was being set down after being tossed around in a hurricane, I had to catch my breath and felt overwhelmed by the day. But it was a good one. Why do I feel overwhelmed by a good, straightforward day? Why did that only kick in after I was alone and on my way home? Why did I think I was present in reality only to realize at the end of the day that I was as disconnected as ever?

Is it perhaps not that I am really disconnected in the moment, but that External Me is present in reality and Internal Me is not, and when I am alone, External Me goes away (except for the part that goes through the motions of making tea, cooking dinner, and typing on my computer right now), leaving Internal Me to take over the majority of my mind? Is it really just an issue of Internal Me not being the one who is experiencing any of the things I say or do every day, and External Me has no real short or long term memory, so whilst I may be "present" in the sense that I am doing everything I can to experience things in the moment, I do not remember any of those things as if it were really me there? Is that why all the memories I do have feel like stories someone else told me rather than memories of my own experiences?

Is that why, when I think of anything we did together, any time we spent together, my chest feels devoid of any emotion and my mind plays out vague images as though from a film? Is that why I keep finding myself sobbing on my bathroom floor playing music I know used to make me feel love or longing or heartbreak or joy or warmth or safety or forlorn about you, desperately trying to feel any of those emotions again, closing my eyes and imagining myself in those memories, searching for a shred of reality to cling to; but instead finding only grief for the lost parts of those memories? The lost parts... the important parts. The parts that made them *my* memories. The parts that made me feel something rather than remember a description of what I was feeling. The parts that kept your face and voice crystal clear. The parts that made them feel real.

It's funny how this wasn't supposed to be about you, but we ended up here anyways. Sometimes I wonder how I know I love you, the you sitting on the other side of the planet texting me once a day (if I'm lucky), because to my mind you've already turned into some distant character entirely separate from the person who I fell in love with and spent so many dozens of hours talking to.

Then I look at the mug on my desk with so many dried flowers in it, all picked for you. I notice how every time something good, or happy, or painful, or funny, or interesting, or mundane, or anything happens, I want to text you about it. I think about how I do grieve the lost parts of those memories, rather than being indifferent to them. I see how I have to exercise so much self control to wait until next week to ask you to call me (I really want you to ask first). I find myself running down the same paths we used to walk together, letting your ghost haunt me, wishing I could go back and do it all over again, just to hold your hand and hear your laugh and listen to you talk about your day.

I may feel empty, I may not be able to reconcile the you on the other side of my phone screen with the you I knew here and love, but I would be doing myself a disservice to deny how I feel about you. Even if my mind cannot grasp that you are still the same person, even if my mind cannot remember any of what we had as reality, I think my heart knows. It knows and it grieves for my mind because it knows how much my mind is missing out on. It knows how wonderful those memories are in full colour and emotion and reality, and it is in pain because without my mind to remember them for it, it cannot relive them. It cannot miss them properly. It can only grieve.

And so I sit here, ribcage hollowed out, grieving something I know I've lost but cannot fully experience the pain of losing because it does not seem real.

It is a kind of torture I wouldn't wish upon anyone. My entire life is going by and none of it has felt real. Not you, not any of the time I've spent with friends, not any of the time I've spent with my parents, not any of the trips I've gone on, not any of the things I've learned, not any of the music I've played, not any of the places I've seen, not any of the things I've said or done. I don't even really know who I am, I don't know how others perceive me, I look in the mirror and see a stranger staring back. I see a body but I do not comprehend that I am inside that body. I know when I speak my voice comes out but if I listen to it, it does not sound like me. I know I interact with people but those interactions are like watching two other people interact, neither of them seems like me. I don't know who I am and none of my life has felt real. At least when you were here, I had moments of feeling real in the moment, I had moments of feeling loved and safe and I felt like I could be completely myself with you. It was the closest I've gotten to feeling like Internal Me was the one existing in reality in a very long time. But apparently it wasn't close enough, because you are now another lost part of my memories.

The worst part of it all? Despite sitting here, typing away, trying my best to line up my thoughts in a row, grabbing at any ephemeral emotion I can, it still doesn't come anywhere close to properly conveying what I'm experiencing.

It's one thing to suffer. It's another to suffer knowing you cannot make anyone else understand your suffering.

[swaqcenix]

The Devil was an Angel First | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x fem!stripper reader

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Summary: It was a risk and a job worth taking, simply use your ability to seduce to earn enough money to get you your university degree. Yet you didn't anticipate the owner of the strip-club to take a significant interest in you, but what can she do? As soon as Natasha saw you, you were hers.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x!fem stripper reader, employee x boss, forbidden romance

Warnings: 18+, slight dark!natasha romanoff, manipulation, strip-teasing, lap-dancing, pole-dancing, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (n to r), mommy kink, strap-on, choking,degrading, over-stimulation, handcuffs and toys, reader is easily manipulated!

Word Count: 9K

AN: This is heavily inspired by the song Pray by Xana, you could listen to it while reading this to get an extra bit of the atmosphere ;)) Also I wil be taking small requests or drabbles for this specific fic/pairing as I'm secretly addicted to this concept.. (not so secretly.)

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Slipping amongst the crowds, your eyes dart around the room as the sounds of the club itself echo through your body. The lighting was illuminating each corner of the room, but stopping in certain bleak shadow's contrasting well with those who put on a performance.

The smell of slick sweat and hot bodies mingling through the room made your nose twitch through instinct and it was around this time your mind was wondering whether this was the right call.

University had been always your major goal in life, pass through High-school get your qualifications and your grades, just don't fuck up. For most of your life you'd remained hidden in the shadows, contempt to live life remaining hidden away while the flashlight of beams hit the sky's ground touching everything but yourself.

Yet apparently life deemed it not apparent that this was the case for you. Instead when your family collided into debuts and the household becoming a simply standing memory of what once was and never could be's you knew the longing for snatching your degree's up in higher education was slipping like fog and air through your fingers.

Would that be a common knowledge concept and reality to turn towards darker paths? Well, darker in regards to your family's eye-line anyway. You simply saw it as an opportunity for people who enjoyed doing things their own way, their own style and didn't wish to follow into the lights of the sky like others we're unique.

Your family wouldn't be appreciating your actions but it didn't matter. It realistically couldn't no matter how much they perhaps frowned at the idea. You could perhaps go into depth of how it wasn't selling your body but allowing it to be seen, allowing others to get a taste of the salt and the the aroma of flavours their hearts desire, but never fully satisfied.

Pole-Dancing wasn't something you'd be opposed to doing by any means. Watching the way they drift through the air, holding onto the bar with such pristine confidence and high agility hit your stomach in all the right ways. Nimble and soft fingers holding onto the pole with such grace their body's dancing into the fire of the night, other's moving with grace and affirmation.

The men and women watching their every action their every step with such a wide eye their lustful thoughts screaming with such a power your own ears rang. Black stiletto's clinging to the poles with a strength that made you doubt your own abilities despite having the darkest of secrets lingering on thoughts.

Quiet girls always tend to have the deepest of desires, the fieriest of personality. The set determination on being quiet, being forgotten and not wanting to be seen always portrays just how difficult life could dance around in a sea of wonder and mystery.

The air smelt so much of blood sweat and tears, the smoke driving the fuel into everyone's body, an ignition lighting up. You turned towards the bar deciding to opt on a drink, probably a hardcore whiskey if you wanted to get through this alive and sane, the burning feeling would ground you heavily to reality.

Turning on your heels, your contrasting deep-blood heels clacked heavily on the floor, treading with a walk that helped you do the one thing you'd avoided doing. Being seen.

Eyes watched, heads tilted and words of whisper drifted across the room as you brought the attention away from the other worker's sensing some hard glares and other longing looks. It was no secret you had the looks, it was just never in your cards, not your line of sight, but the devil didn't always play with fire until pushed within the flames.

"Whiskey neat please," your voice was firm and held no conversation for an argument.

The barman glanced at you and you simply watched as his eyes glanced at you, looking you up and down. You could practically feel the budge in his pants grow from here and the self-refraining you were doing from rolling your eyes was repulsing.

You weren't about to start off your first time in this place by pissing off the men you could encounter more often in telling them you not into indulging in their acts. Explaining to men who couldn't understand the word no when it comes to simply not being interested in them was not a path you cared to go down for the time being, instead settling on biting your tongue.

Sure, it didn't mean you couldn't make some impressions around here though. You'd already made a rather splendid entrance by sauntering around capturing lingering eyes of the men and women which allowed your red tinted lips to tilt upwards.

The barman worked nimbly, his hands being heavy but not without meaning as he flipped bottles around like he was performing an act. Normally this would entice most women to jump for joy and use some ogle eyes towards him. However, you were in fact not most women, you simply walked through the world of shadows until you decided to finally allow the light to kiss your skin in all the right areas.

He slowly slid the drink down to you as you tossed him the dollar bills owed and sauntered off in means to find the owner of this establishment. The music moved above you like puppet's on a string as you did your best to try and move through the blinding strobe lights and bodies mingling into one.

Guessing that the owner would find you before you found them, your body decided to make it's way over to a table waiting for them to arrive with introductions, you crossed your legs simply playing with the bottom of the whiskey glass, swirling it around for play as you chucked it down your throat.

The feeling of the burn hit you instantly and you squinted for a moment before a heavy sigh escaped the opening of your lips leaning back in the chair once again becoming one with the shadows. Besides the demons in everyone else's heads seemed to be having their own rituals one of which you weren't enticed on indulging in such acts.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you. Doing well to not attract attention you glanced through your glass trying to picture who was approaching and a flash of red curls took through the reflection.

Your lips tilted upwards in a mischievous smirk as you leaned back in your seat, a feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. Your mind wandered as you presumed the mystery woman was approaching ready to allure you into sinful acts of seduction and dance through desire into the night.

Instead, what was not predicted was the black stiletto heels coming to a stand still right behind your table, a hot and heavy breath lingering in your ear. Your body tensed and you felt the smirk dripping from the woman behind you as you tilted your head turning around to be met with someone who should be the devil in disguise, one to lure you entirely out of the shadows and touch the fires to ignite you entirely.

"You must be Y/N. Y/LN. I am Natasha Romanoff, Miss Romanoff to you. Owner of Desiring ignition. I will interview you in the back rooms if you don't mind?" her voice asking a question but orders slipping from the sinful tongue.

Your body moved before your lips did and you found yourself following after the redhead like an obedient dog, for a minute forgetting yourself entirely and not thinking, just acting like a string was tugging you along.

Her red hair was distinctive even against the darkened tone of the room, the lights dimming in and out didn't affect it as it shone like fire and ash, the devil reincarnated you knew. Her hips swayed with an intent to drive a man wild but in a way she didn't wish for any of them, simply alluding to her own intoxicating beauty, poison and toxic.

The eyes followed you both and you scampered after her down a neon-purple hallway, the colour's almost blinding you within a trance. Finding your bearings you knew you'd need to pull yourself together if you wanted this job so decided to play in the same game, the same chess board. Play with the devil.

Her hands clasped tightly around the handle as Miss Romanoff lead you into what you presumed to be her office before shutting the door behind her. The noise seemed to almost be drowned out now, as though she'd installed noise cancellation into her office.

Your eyes scanned the room trying to analyse and get anything you could on this woman. You'd always liked to get to know someone through their surroundings and what that said person associates themselves with, especially if it works in your favour.

The office itself was dimly lit but well cleaned and decorated minimally. To your left there was a desk, mahogany coloured with 2 chairs on ether side, the desk holding files that your eyes couldn't capture from the distance you stood. A solemn picture held itself strongly on the desk of what you could make out to be a younger blonde woman, perhaps the same age as you or a couple years older.

The redhead nodded her head towards the chair on the other side of her desk, before sitting down on a black leather one herself. Even sat down in the dimly lit office you could tell she was a woman of business, not one to be meddled with nor to cross without paying the price which for yourself was bad given your track record of loving to stir the pot.

Her eyes lingered over your own for a while examining you, looking you up and down in a way your body almost jolted at the sheer intensity of her gaze. Not wanting to keep the older woman wanting any longer, your feet moved on the own accord sitting down on the chair opposite of her. Her posture was still up straight, impossibly held and elegant opposite of your own.

"So," she began by looking through your files as though you'd be arrested under a warrant issued for the most wanted criminal.

"You've got good grades from schools, a track record of not seeming to show herself within public eye and even held debates and meetings within clubs. Your jobs previously consist of coffee shops and waiting so what exactly is it you have to offer here," she stated her voice was laced with disdain and annoyance.

"Well that's correct yes, but I have goals in life and things I need to achieve. I can't get there without doing this first, trust me it's a last resort," you replied cringing inwardly at your response.

It was a stupid mistake you'd created by saying this job was a last resort. That would be the last thing this goddess of a pain was waiting to hear, especially when wanting to employ you. You'd fucked up royally but like she stated, you had a tendency for debate clubs and there was nothing better you were good at than worming you way into or out of situations.

Her eyebrows shot upwards at your response and you watched with fear as the redhead perused her lips together eyeing you once again with a look of utter irritation.

"So you see us as a last resort?" She asked stiffly.

"No, nothing like that-" you tried to reason but her hand waved in the air dismissing your comment before you'd began.

"Y/L/N. Do you know how many people come here asking for jobs hm?" Her head titled to the side lips twitching while watching you squirm.

"No..."

"Over 200. How many do you reckon we employ exactly?"

The venom and toxic poison in her voice almost sent you spiralling you couldn't help but feel entirely hooked on it. Yet the feeling in your mind told you to run, leave before you headed down the road of embarrassment and utter danger.

"I'm not sure, Miss Romanoff," you voice was surprisingly even for someone being scolded in a private office room.

"The answer is 4% out of those 200 get employed. Yet, a silly girl like you walks along struts in like she owns the fucking place and says it's a last resort," she taps her finger on the side of her face mockingly.

"No.. I can dance and I'm incredibly talented on a pole," you tried to reason but she once again shushed you in a dismissive tone.

"You're dismissed off you go," she shooed you off and your legs stood by themselves your mind no longer in control of your body.

As your body walked towards the door head daring not to look back your hands went towards the door handle, before lingering on the metal for a moment. Your mind danced away thinking of thoughts and how you couldn't give up so easily. You came in this bar, this strip-club looking for a job and you'd be damned to go without one. Sure the woman behind you was a stole cold bitch, but she came with fire. You had the gasoline to set this place alight.

Turning on your heels, you faced the older woman who went from looking down at her files with disinterest to whipping her head up. Miss Romanoff tilted her head to the side as you approached with a surge of confidence that you didn't know you had running through your veins setting your blood alight. Your body leaning over her desk you smirked as she watched and you could sense her tense beneath you.

"Let me show you what I can do," your voice was whispered with sultry and laced with such confidence that was missing moments ago.

The redhead thought for a moment, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sides before tilting up. She removed herself from her chair carrying her composure elegantly as ever before entering your personal space.

"Be my guest, show me what you can do," she smirked.

Before you could even blink, Miss Romanoff snatched your hand and lead you out of her office towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The sparks you felt when her hand clasped your hand and rising towards your wrist jolted your stomach giving you somersault's.

She on the other hand, snatched her hand away as quickly as she took it and you weren't sure why that caused such a sting within you. The older woman wasn't required to touch you in any way, but her response was as though she'd been burnt in opposition to your own body's reaction wanting to feel her touch ignite you more.

Suddenly the vast realisation of reality crashed down on you and your stomach churned in thought. Your mindset couldn't be thinking this type of way in any shape or form towards someone who could perhaps be your boss. This wasn't about to become some cliche film style where you fuck your boss, you couldn't give her that style of power.

Yet, as you let your mind indulge further in thoughts, she wasn't your boss. Not yet and not now, besides if you wanted this job a thirst to prove yourself to the flames of hell as she was, you were going to have to join the game.

Heading further down the hall, Natasha stopped at the door to her left and you titled your head in anticipation. The feeling of not knowing what you could possibly find was always thrilling yet had an edge of dread that filled your lungs and ran through your veins.

Observing her silently, you watched the redhead slip out a singular key from her pocket before slipping it with ease into the lock and turning it. Her hand which you tried definitely too hard to not focus on wrapped around the handle turning it before standing to the side awaiting you to head inside.

Silently entering the room, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt at the sight that stood before you. A singular pole stood in the middle of the room, tall and with a bolden look about it almost calling to you begging you to dance upon it. Towards the corner of the room lay what you predicted to be a lot of BDSM toys ranging from handcuffs and blindfolds to nipple clamps and leg spreaders.

Your cheeks flushed heavily at the sight as heat ran through your body and you found yourself turning away from the toys, eyes instead landing on a chaise lounge. The furniture was a deep red, crimson in fact darkened like the blood flushing heavily through your veins, perhaps darker than Ms Romanoff's hair. Turning your head in her direction you realised she'd been watching your reaction as you absorbed and gawked at the room, causing you to flush even further.

The older woman simply smirked at you before making her way over to the chaise lounge, looking you up and down in what you originally thought was a judgmental look now seemed otherwise, before sitting with determination down onto the chair.

For a moment it was silence as she only stared at you examining you for a mere moments that felt like hours before rolling her eyes and scoffing. Her hand raised upwards as her index finger- that looked incredible you might add- came out and directed at the pole giving you a pointed look. Realisation hit your face and you realised what the redhead was asking of you, which caused all sorts of emotions to run through your head.

She was asking you to to give a full example of how you'd dance within her club, within her line of work and show yourself. Normally this wouldn't be a bother as you'd come to a damn strip-club for god sake, but it was the idea of dancing alone with her that sent your nerves spiralling and your body shaking beneath you.

Still, there was no point in arguments, you'd been the one to suggest showing her, but in hopes of a more lively atmosphere. Instead Miss. Romanoff had lead you to a secluded room one of which held what you predicted secrets hiding within the 4 walls for you to dance in.

Sucking in a tight breath you closed your eyes tightly shut counting to 3 before opening them once more. Getting your bearings around you, you strutted to the pole making sure to remove the jacket that clung tightly to your skin hugging you in all the right places. The jacket was placed to the side of Natasha and you tried not to smirk too much at the feeling of her eyes travelling over your form.

Her body stood up, walking over to a speaker in the corner causing you body to tense up slightly. If it was too loud it was sure to cause an uproar of attention that in this current moment you didn't want. Your mind was too focused on earning the approval and the full attention of the redhead selfishly to yourself despite wishing that you didn't indulge in such sinful acts.

You removed your pants, leaving yourself in only your polo shirt and underwear, trying your best not to make any sort of contact with her. You could have done pole-dancing in your pants but it wasn't a risk worth taking if you didn't want any slip ups and needed the grip. Instead you walked over to the pole closing your eyes tightly before opening them and glancing over at Miss Romanoff.

Her head was tilted to the side and you were almost convinced her eyes that you noticed earlier were the shade of emerald green like the piercing ground of earth were almost charcoal now, luring you into the mist of hazing sinful creatures and touching the igniting flame. Instead of contemplating thoughts any longer you let out a mere nod towards the older woman and she smirked turning on a song that widened your eyes as, girls girls girls by FLETCHER began to echo through the room.

Trying to once again ignore the intriguing implications behind the song you stepped forward flexing your hand back and forth continuously before gripping onto the pole tightly with your left hand. Your fingers curled instinctively around the metal bar and you cleared your mind. One of the first things you'd learnt about dancing and when understanding how to use the effective ways of pole-dancing was don't think just act.

You let your mind carry through the music eliciting the illusions of thoughts and song's as your body carried you through. You started off smoothly, swinging your way seductively around the pole keeping your outside leg straight before pivoting your inside foot at the same time.

Your mind carried through song as the beat's began to pick up, your outside foot worked through muscle memory hooking around the pole before your other joined gripping tightly.

As soon as you felt your body securely fitted on the pole your hips moved in ways of wonder as though art itself couldn't touch through paintings of masterpieces. Your back arched and your hip swayed in beat swinging yourself around the pole before your body flipped itself in ways of wonder, dancing and spinning with everything it had.

The song slowly began to draw to a close and it was then your eyes chose to linger from being shut as you made your distinctive signature move, swinging yourself around with a grace you didn't know was within you. Your body swung from the top to the bottom of the pole in the most seductive way possible as your fingers crossed over, before your eyes drifted to the red head.

It took everything within you not to let out a shit-eating grin when you noticed the gawking from Miss Romanoff who looked like she was ready to eat you up whole. Given any other circumstances you would have flushed or felt self-conscious, but instead you embraced the feeling of confidence as you gently slithered off the pole a laugh almost sliding past your lips.

You sauntered over to the older woman, teasing leaning over her body to grab your jacket only to be yanked down onto the couch. You felt the blood run course through your body you heart pounding so loudly you'd not be surprised if she could hear it herself. The room came to a heated silence, the tension thick and easily cut with a knife. Natasha's hand came up to cup your jaw tilting it to the side almost as though she wanted to judge that part of you too, or better yet distract herself from what she was initially going to do.

"Tomorrow, 8:30pm your shift will begin. I recommend not arriving late, or better yet arrive earlier to prepare yourself. You work hours will differ but tomorrow you'll be finishing at 3:30am. Understand sweetheart?" Her voice husked out and you were almost putty in her hands once more.

Your head nodded unconsciously, the primal instinct in you roaring to obey your now boss's instructions. The feeling of disgust ran through your body at the realisation of what you'd just performed despite it being your job area now. It wasn't the fact you'd pole-danced it was the secluded room and the song that made your body squirm.

The redhead seemed to thrive in amusement on that power and you weren't sure whether the heat that ran to your core was feelings you wished you didn't have or anger that turned into the feeling of lust, perhaps both. Her hand tightened on your chip ever so slightly to the point you thought her nails may cause intends within your skin, marking like a hot poker within it.

"Oh no, none of that. You use words to me okay? So do you understand dorogaya?" her tone showed no time from you for disagreement.

"Yes, I understand Miss. Romanoff," your voice was strong and assertive despite inside your body was a mess of sweat and utter chaos.

Natasha leaned back, stretching her arms across the couch staring at you for a moment before taking her lip between her teeth, clamping down hard. The sight was enough to send a hot gush of wetness between your legs and your mind screamed at you in retaliation, she was your boss. Her teeth gently let her lips go with a pop before standing up and walking up to the door, swinging it open with ease staring back at you with an expected look.

"Good girl," she whispered out her lips tilting up dangerously as your fixed your tousled hair that had become slightly damaged from dancing.

Your body reacted once more to the words almost jolting in response, but you did well to keep yourself refrained and intact. Instead you simply grabbed your belongings nodding towards the woman and headed straight for the main exit. Perhaps the acts you were prepared to partake in was deemed as sinful and immoral, you wouldn't give so much as a glance if they were. It felt like the devil was standing their glaring into your soul and you didn't care for anything else other than entering the gates and feeling the flames wrap around your body.

The next evening went as smooth as it could, the blasting of the music as your body danced in between of time to the tunes. Your personal favourite was the one's that went sensual before picking pace as it allowed you to do your signature moved before flaunting around people in a seductive manner. You'd thrived on how the men and women gawked at your, eyes popping out of their heads, drooling from the mouth like you were a treat they had to have.

Fellow colleague's had taken up on asking advice, specifically your new favourite Wanda who you added on further inspection was quite a looker. The way she'd bounce her brunette curls around her face as she danced into the night like nobody was watching always had you admiring her.

She herself had wanted tips from you, always seemingly interested by your dancing to the way you move on a pole, her eyes always lingering in sheer awe and amazement as though you personally had placed each star drifting through the sky. Yet, you always felt another pair of eyes, heavy and dark lingering in the shadows.

It was the type of shadow you'd spent your whole life hiding within but this aspect was dangerous. It felt cold mixed with fire alike, bonding in ways it shouldn't mix. The soul being ice and chilled to the bone with fire in the centre waiting to burn itself from the ground up. You constantly sensed the lingering eyes on your body but chose to ignore it, for you knew the consequences of the danger, you knew who those eyes belonged to you just couldn't face them to admit it.

It continued for the next week until Saturday came faster than anticipated. Your legs carried you through the building with ease and a sense of calm now almost as though you'd been there for years. In reality you'd become rather content with the building of Desiring ignition. You'd scarcely interacted with Natasha though, (thank god.)

It wasn't the exact concept of fearing the woman, no it wasn't that. It was the way she made you feel. It was like feeling towards the devil, it's forbidden you see red with anger, lust the picture painted of danger and intoxicating aroma.

You'd done well in avoiding the older woman but she did appear to be making it easer than anticipated, despite knowing the one hiding in the shadows, lingering not wishing to be seen but knowing you felt her presence seemed to enough for the older woman.

You had settled on something different this time, usually not opting for dresses preferring to dress loose but certainly stylish all the same. However this time, you'd decided to rock the boat and you weren't sure why.

Instead you'd settled on a deep emerald green, darkened than usual but curved around your body clinging in all the right ways. The anticipation and adrenaline of the reactions you'd receive left your mind racing, despite not wanting to show anything off entirely. Definitely not for her..

Directing yourself towards the bar, you walked over greeting who you'd now become accustomed to know as Bucky. He actually was opposing to what you expected after your encounter on the first night, he was just hesitant of newcomers. Instead now you'd become close to the man always offering a term of greeting.

"Same as usual?" He questioned winking as you both knew it was wrong to drink on the job.

Albeit it was hardly your fault, when it came to this job and work environment you'd hardly be faulted for having the odd drink to get by. Most days we're enjoyable, the women ogling over you and many wanting to touch what their desired hearts couldn't reach, like seeing a pebble in the ocean before the sea carries it out, perfectly sculpted but not yours to own.

Your lips curved up into a smirk filled with fire and mischief, the look of mystery plastered all over your face. Not a word spoken, your head nodded into his direction and Bucky nodded once in return. His body moved swiftly, preparing a small yet rather what the average person would deem an intoxicating strong drink for yourself as he slid it over.

Taking your drink you sipped away at it as you made your way onto the floor, seemingly into the sea of people. It was busy & you only knew it was going to get busier. Besides; you had an hour to kill before even remotely starting your shift so you might as well busy yourself.

It started simple, sitting down mingling with guests, eyeing up who was necessarily your desire for the night. All you needed was the money, even with the weighing guilt that sometimes poured over your head you needed to make your way into the world.

God only knows how you'd found yourself onto the dance floor, one moment you were sipping on your drink waiting for the beginning of your shift the next you were dragged onto the dance floor by a taller and seemingly older brunette. Her hands were dragging across your waist causing your face to flush.

Were you sure you were entirely within protocols here? Not at all, yet there was no rules you couldn't dance with the paying guests before your own night began. Though you were indeed certain Miss. Romanoff may cause some issues with this.

Alcohol wasn't even the reason for your confidence, it felt like something was drawing you to push boundaries that night to tempt yourself into desired that you shouldn't cross. You could say you don't bring your guests into the bedsheets like you do your demons but as the brunette's hands grazed across your stomach for a moment you short circuited.

You found your head tilting an angle towards Bucky's direction who was eyeing you with a concerned expression painted upon his face. His frown that narrowed through his forehead, eyes giving a dangerous tone, almost trying to warn you.

Still, you shrugged it off instead allowing the touch of another burn your skin though whether it was a burn of desire or the burn of hell you weren't sure. You were playing with the fires of lucifer here & partially enjoying yourself. Lips grazed slightly over your neck, almost allowing you to loose yourself instantly without a sudden care or thought.

People were silencing around you within beats of the music, like a chill had passed down from a frost bite. They were parting like royalty had arrived themselves, but you were completely unaware in your own mindset in your own thoughts.

Lips grazed your neck sloppily, yet it burnt like an ignition hell fire in your skin. Yet your mind was dancing somewhere else or better yet, someone else. It was like someone snapped a finger, as within a second like you'd blinked an eye and the warmth from behind you disappeared.

Widening your eyes, you opened them but a hand snatched you spinning you straight into a body. You stumbled forward legs like jelly, hands still shaking with adrenaline as their perfume invaded your senses. It was a sexy perfume smell no doubt, the aroma making it's way into your nose poisoning you. You'd almost breathed in, wanting more of the intoxicating taste of it, yet that wouldn't be ve-

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

If your suspicions were correct, which you were highly convinced they were then the perfume and the person you'd been dragged into was someone you dreaded finding you in that compromising position. A whisper drew you from the dread in the pit of your stomach and your stressing mindset as they leaned towards you.

"Enjoying yourself darling?" The voice carried the familiar edge you dreaded.

The feeling of bile rose in your throat from sheer anxiety and you gulped hard to keep yourself at bay. Slowly looking up, your eyes met the all too familiar green ones.. One's you could get lost in and fantasise about consi-

No, not to be thought of right now.

Her eyebrows were arched consistently and the familiar look of a stern facial expression was painted on your Boss's, Miss. Romanoff's face. Her lips were painted a blood deep red and the blush on her cheeks were making your legs like jelly, let alone your stomach's feeling of somersaults.

"I..." Stuttering voices was all you could muster right now.

A swift finger placed on your lips was all it took for your cheeks to hear up and you were certainly an embarrassing jumble of mess in front of her and everyone around you.

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for your life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

Her hand moved up to cup them, needing them through your dress causing you to almost cry out. You couldn't lie, you were grateful for the atmosphere being so loud and disoriented otherwise you'd have cried out from sheer embarrassment.

"M-Mine," you whispered through a half gasp earning you to feel her knee rub you subtly once more in your lower region.

"Wrong answer, don't get it wrong again hm?" She said through semi-gritted teeth and your body melted back into her.

Unsure of the adrenaline you had coursing through your veins you spun around and found some form of confidence in you to cup her own lower region.

"Yours," you whisper-shouted back due to the strength of the music, though your voice partially wavered.

It was obvious she was caught off guard through the sheer surprise that danced like the force of nature the wind dancing with the trees on a stormy night. Miss.Romanoff's lips tilted upwards into a smirk and without a word or a warning her hand clasped onto yours and you were being pulled swiftly down corridors.

Everything seemed to pass you buy in a blur as you had no recollection of one door to the next, nor did you dare to look at any faces glancing and gawking your way. Simply you decided to be an obedient little thing and follow Miss. Romanoff towards wherever she was leading you.

Suddenly, you came to a halt in front of a locked door slowly coming to the realisation this was Miss.Romanoff's personal room; no one was ever allowed to enter. A surge of some sort of excitement flooded the course of your veins in some way as she led you through.

Locking it behind her she pointed to her own personal chaise lounge and you obediently followed her instructions like a lost puppy, almost falling over your own feet to get to it. A low chuckle left her lips sending chills upon chills down your spine and embarrassingly hitting your core (that was probably now soaked.)

"Miss Romanoff I don't know if this is-"

"Natasha," she cut you off instantly smirking at you.

You gawked at the older woman like she'd just spoken in a foreign language. However she brushed it off, slowly approaching you like an animal would it's prey. Lifting your chin up she grinned down at you like a cheshire cat before huskily speaking.

"Call me Natasha. Though I'd also prefer to be called a different name, can your pretty little brain think of what that is?" She asked lustfully.

Gulping you had a smart idea, but didn't want to ask a stupid question. So you kept your mouth shut but apparently Natasha had other idea's towards your 'misbehaviour.'

"Colour," her voice was softer for a moment only by a slight tone but you sensed it.

It almost made you crack for a moment and come to your senses. An employee couldn't- shouldn't sleep with their boss. Yet, as you believed earlier the devil was technically an angel first and you wanted to touch the fire, you wanted her to touch you. However, it was evidence you were taking too long as you'd received an arched eyebrow and she grabbed you firmly by the chin awaiting her answer.

"Green but.. this is wrong you're my.."

A gasp cut you off as she placed her lips instantly on your neck biting down hard before sucking. You felt Natasha's lips trail up and down biting an area she could, knowing instantly it was going to leave a mark. Moans elicited past your lips as you found your head slowly adjusting to give more access.

She sucked and nipped at your skin like her life depended on it, it was intoxicating. She was starting a fire within you no one else could ever ignite. Natasha kissed her way back up to your face before whispering sultry into your earlobe.

"Now you want to keep your job don't you, you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes I do Natasha," you went to move your hands in her hair when you felt something restrict you.

A deep blood red-handcuffs the same shade as her hair was holding you back and your eyes widened in realisation. The demon's in your head were fighting with each other as you felt her clamber her way into your lap.

"Now.. you're going to behave for mommy aren't you?"

She grinned at you arching an eyebrow while her plump red lips glistened under the dim lights. You couldn't bring yourself to respond to Natasha, you felt your stomach twisting in knots at the word and your brain go fuzzy.

Restriction on your neck caused your airways to tighten slightly, not too much but the pressure sent a heat to your core you didn't know could happen. She frowned at you sternly, a small crease of annoyance in between her forehead that you found dangerously hot and cute at once.

"Don't make ask twice detka, you should know in the time you've worked for me I hate repeating myself. Now be a good slut and respond."

Not wanting to face the consequences of hell knows what she'd do you nodded instantly a feeling of nervousness that was fuelled by desire and lust rising within you.

"Yes mommy, I'll behave. I promise!"

Your response pleased her, yet your brain didn't have much time to respond as a loud groan escaped your lips. The buzzing sensation pressed against your panties sent you spiralling into oblivion. Natasha captured your lips with her own, red lipstick smearing your own with a kiss, sealing your fate. Signing your soul to the devil seemed like a fate that could send anyone into a panic, but when it was Natasha Romanoff, it was pure bliss.

"Your moans are a delight to my ear sweet girl," her whispers against your lips only spurred you on further.

You found your hips grinding down against the toy your bottom lip become broken and bruised from how hard you were biting it. A small slap to the thigh sent you jolting as you looked up to see Natasha's stern look.

"You move when I tell you to move slut," she slurred out high on lust and desire and you felt a spiral of wetness shoot down to your glistening pussy that was most definitely dripping with desire.

You felt the pressure of the toy increase levels and it took you everything not to cry out in absolute ecstasy but the overwhelming stimulation, it was so intense your toes could curl.

"You're already coming undone are you for your mommy?" Natasha bit down slightly on your ear lobe her fingers trailing up to your throat once more as she whispers into your ear.

"When you lay down on the chaise lounge you'll be screaming my name tonight darling. Yet, did you honestly think that you could get away with that game Y/N?" Her voice dragged down your body as quickly as possible.

Teeth sunk into your skin, nipping sucking and licking into the depths of every single area Natasha could reach. You hands tried to fling over your mouth to muffle your moans, yet your restraining handcuffs brought you back to reality.

"They'll hear Na- Mommy," Your slip-up didn't go unnoticed as a slap to your thigh and a hard bite on your chest caused a cry out from your lips.

"Let them hear you. You wanted a show, I have every intention of giving you one."

Before your thoughts could catch up to your lips a rip echoed through the room as a strength had come from the redhead herself. Gasping as she put some pressure on your clit the intense feeling driving your body into an overwhelming feeling.

As her fingers pressed against your puffy lips you knew instantly you were getting addicted to the feeling; the ignition pushing you towards Natasha's capture. She was easily trying to capture her pray within you and you'd stupidly let her.

"Please.. I need more," You pleaded your brain foggy with lust and utter craving for Natasha in every way possible.

With a single flick of a switch you felt her turn the toy to maximum levels before her fingers were swiftly replaced with a lapping tongue. The cuffs that felt like chains kept to a wall yanked down as you tried to touch.

She spat on your clit and you felt the shit eating grin pass her lips as Natasha heard the familiar sound of tugging from them. Instead she tutted and her eyes grazed up connecting with your own, purposely dragging her tongue up your slit making you cry out from the intensity.

"You're a good girl aren't you hm? Taking your boss so well. Imagine if I got to do a public show with you.. God the way the crowds would go wild as I fucked you over and over again," Natasha lulled against your pussy.

The images dancing through your brain was sinful, absolutely disgusting to others but for some reason like you were trapped in a cage of sex you didn't care. Magic was a dangerous power and a dangerous curse yet she wheeled it all within this room, your body and your mind, your essence and soul.

As she shoved her tongue into your entrance another cry of intense joy, you weren't sure lust most definitely past your lips. Her free hand moved up to your breasts massaging the buds between her tips, sending you without permission releasing your juices all over her tongue.

Ms. Romanoff pulled back and the look on her face was not one of an impressed look, though that didn't stop her tongue swirling around her mouth getting the remaining taste left. That action alone sent another wave to your core despite the overwhelming feeling and you felt your legs like jelly simply from one round.

"Did I say you could cum?" Her voice was stern, boomed against the contrasting atmosphere of what the stench danced with sex, and sweat, desire and fire.

"I.. I didn't me-"

"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Cum?" She repeated her voice was filled with such an authoritative tone sending your mind back to your original meeting.

Had it not been for the handcuffs and the familiar stern look and not wanting any more disapproval from Natasha, you'd have coward away from embarrassment. Instead you shook your head wondering what on earth you'd gotten yourself into it wasn't like you were bound together but.. part of you lived from the excitement; she was a devil, demon of angel and hell with the need to feel her touch.

"No.. No Miss.Romanoff, you did not." Your voice rasped out exhausted from screaming already.

She stood up no word uttered and she disappeared around the back, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment. It felt like you were fucking with the goddess herself, but was it sanity? Was it safe to be sharing sheets and secrets behind closed doors? Possibly not, but her blood-red lips and curves of her body made it impossible not to fall into. A trap of love or lust, it wasn't even known to you within that sight, just the devil herself you'd taste it every-time.

A song brought you from your dancing curious thoughts, one that sent your body ice-cold and your eyes widening instantly. A song called 'Pray' You'd become one to recognise. It was a favourite with your regulars at the club. Except you hadn't quite realised Natasha herself had noticed, but you'd been proven quite wrong.

On the contrary, Natasha walked in with a thick deep red strap-on, one that was already wet ether with her spit or something else it was unknown. But, she knew and had seen it caused a rage in her she hated herself for. Yet, she had to have her way with you.

"Sit back," she ordered pleased instantly you'd complied with no sudden refusals or hesitation.

Without a warning she flung one leg over your body joined by the other leg, until she was sat in your lap straddling you. Instantly, a gut feeling surged through your veins flying through every pulse point sending a fire and ice in one through your very skin. Your suspicions were confirmed when she slowly started to move her hips on you with the strap on.

A lap-dance. A lap dance by Natasha Romanoff, your boss the fucking owner of Desiring ignition. Better yet it was with a strap on.

Her hips moved in a motion not even the most poisonous temptations of the world could, but Natasha out-beat them all. Her hands moved down her body over her hips and you watched in amazement as she began to thrust onto your leg while dancing like a majestic queen. Her moans spilled past her throat, giving you everything you desired sipping her up.

Your hands begged to move and your pussy pulsated allowing some juices to spill out. Your eye's pleaded with her to undo the cuffs but all you'd received in return, was a tut and a small pressure to your throat.

"You can touch soon detka. I'd like to have my fun now. Do you know how long I've waited to have my way with you?" She whispered her hips shaking and thrusting to the beat of the music.

"N-No," you answered honestly to mesmerised by her movements to figure out an answer.

"Since you first walked into that door. I needed you away so I didn't tempt myself with the cup of sinfulness, one that I shouldn't lead by. Yet, when I saw you dance.. Oh my sweet little slut. You were perfect. I needed to ruin all of you," she husked out shaking her strap slightly.

You almost came right from the scene in front of you, gaining your own kind of friction from her strap. However while the music beat sped up one lyric spurred her over the edge and caused her to break the chains of control, fly up from hell and take her prize.

'When she lays down to pray at night.. She'll be screaming my name.'

Something about that song lyric sent Natasha spurring forward and her hips bucked against your lap causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Her hands reached up undoing the cuffs breaking the barrier as your hands finally touched her hips, her olive silky skin feeling beautiful under your finger tips.

Her fingers suddenly managed to make their way underneath her body with a precision that seemed impossible to you and slammed themselves into your now over-stimulated pussy. You cried out in part-pain and mainly bliss the coil in your stomach building up.

She worked you like wonders themselves couldn't work the song blaring in the background. Natasha still continued to give you a lap-dance of sorts but mainly focused on getting the two of you off and fingered you hard and fast, her hips meeting some sort of thrust.

"Scream my name," left her lips and that's all it took.

The coil in your stomach snapped and you came once more all over her fingers, legs shaking and your eyes pooled with tears of joy from how incredible it felt. Natasha followed suite from the sight and the friction cumming all down her strap and some spilling onto your lap causing yourself to groan.

However, she had an ungodly amount of adrenaline pounding through her system as she clambered of your body leaning over your lips and throat demanding one thing of you.

"Suck."

Her voice was raspy sending a pool of wetness shooting down once more and you felt yourself let out some dripping juices by accident. You instantly took the strap on gagging on it as she shoved it deeply in your throat. Looking down, the sight was enough for Natasha to cum right there and then but she held it.

She wanted you to gag on her strap, shut your pretty little mouth up as she took in the sight of what was hers. Her sinful prize, her desired need was sucking her cock so well it was a bliss to see. Hearing you gag she rubbed your pussy once again causing you to cry out the stimulation being too much, yet Natasha ignored you.

She ignored you until your hips jerked up once more being greedy and desperate for her fingers or strap-on and she smirked in sheer delight. She'd made you putty in her hands. You didn't care anymore the manipulation of her job had worked wonders in your mind making it hazed with fuel of her touch and knowing only she could make you like this.

Clambering down, no warning was given as her cock suddenly found your puffy and over-stimulated entrance and her eyes drifted down. Natasha groaned at the sight, how ruined and how messy you were, wetness seeping down your thighs.

Not wanting to waist another minute, her cock slammed into you thrusting hard not giving you any time to adjust. Her lips moved fast and at a ferocious pace causing animalistic like grunts to leave your lips. Your mind danced with her and only her, it was like she'd made her mark engraved her and only her within it and you'd take it all, drink all of her and whatever she'd give you.

Sloppy slapping sounds hit the four walls of the room and her lips slammed into yours as she bit on your bottom lip. Your now free hands, moved into her hair tugging lightly causing a growl fit from an animal that could kill within seconds. Natasha kissed harder, hips slamming down without a single care and you felt yourself becoming close.

"Please.."

She grinned against your lips and you knew what was going to happen then and there. Your boss had won the game of the life time, her prize possession and puppet.

"Cum on mommy's cock like a good little stripper hmm? Let me take all of you," she husked out giving a particular hard thrust.

With that your juices hit her strap-on hard, flowing out of you like a river itself your mouth screaming her name while your body shivered. Hands clawing at her back now the sight was enough to send her spiralling, leaving you just enough time to recover to see the sight.

Her back arched, releasing her own as she had her eyes closed lips partially opened and skin slick with sweat and cum mixed from both of your spots.

Your eyes shut themselves sheer exhaustion taking in and all that could be heard was panting breaths in the room. It was as she leaned down you'd known how badly caught in the trap of lust you were with your own boss, her whispers filling the room.

"I've caught my own trap now, the devil got her prize. And I am far from finished with you yet, mommy's little stripper slut."

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[ericshoney]

Hate~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Being a sister of famous YouTubers can be hard, especially with the hate that follows

Warnings: usual swearing, online hate, angst, mean comments/words, name calling,

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Bitch.

Slut.

Clout chaser.

Fake.

Fat.

Many more comments flooded your latest Instagram post. You saw a good few sweet comments, but they were quickly shadowed by the horrible hate. You knew having famous brothers would cause jealous fans to swarm you, but not to this extent.

Nick, Matt and Chris talked about the hate with you. How there would be horrible people out there who were jealous and rude, who wouldn't show their faces because they were just idiots. You tried really hard to ignore it, only posting on your public socials occasionally.

You were visiting your brothers in LA, having a break from school before your final year. You sat on the sofa, when Chris came running in.

"Hey kid, get your shoes on!" He exclaimed.

"Why?" You asked, already slipping your shoes on.

"We're going to get ice cream." He answered.

You nodded as Matt and Nick appeared from their rooms. You all then left, your focus on your comment section of your phone still.

"What are you looking at, sweetheart?" Nick asked as he sat next to you in the car.

"Just some comments." You answered simply, closing your phone.

"Don't focus on them, kid." Chris called from the front.

You nodded, but silently kept thinking. They had started to get worse, more rude and hateful comments seemed to flood your comment section and DMs. You tried to ignore them like your brothers said.

After the drive, you all arrived at the ice cream place. It wasn't too busy which made you feel better. You started to look at the different flavours across the menu. When it was your turn to order, you told Nick what you wanted, not feeling up to talking to the worker.

You then looked around the place, seeing some seats around. What you also saw were three teenage girls looking at you. They made it obvious they were looking back at you, whispering and pointing your way. You turned away, feeling uncomfortable, only for them to approach you.

"Here you go, petal." Matt said, passing you your ice cream, which you thanked him for.

"Hi, your the Sturniolo triplets, right." One of the girls called.

"Yeah that's us." Nick replied.

"Can we get a picture please?" A second asked.

The guys looked at you as you nodded, not wanting to stop them interacting with their fans. You stood to the side as they took some pictures with the three girls.

"Maybe lay off the ice cream." The third girl whispered to you.

"I'm sorry?" You called.

"I mean it's not doing your figure any good." She responded.

"You calling me fat?" You asked with a scoff.

"Yeah, what are you going to do about it?" She replied.

"Her, nothing. Us, something." Matt said.

He then took the phones from all three girls and deleted the pictures they took. You looked at him in shock as he gave the phones back.

"Next time, think about what you say. Our sister is perfect as she is, it doesn't help her with rude people like you getting involved and putting her down. If you got nothing good to say to people in person or online, don't fucking bother." Matt said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you out the shop, Nick and Chris closely behind.

You all returned to the car, you were very quiet as you finished your ice cream. The guys finished theirs too as you sat in the car quietly.

"How long?" Matt asked.

"How long what?" You replied.

"How long as this been going on?" He replied.

"Oh...Maybe a month. It wasn't too bad at the start, just got worse the past month. I tried hard to ignore it, I swear." You admitted.

"Can I see your phone, kid?" Chris asked.

You nodded, knowing there was no point to hide anything. You passed your phone over, watching as Chris went onto your Insta, seeing all the rude, hateful and disrespectful comments on your posts and in your DMs. He sighed seeing them all.

"I'm sorry, I just tried to ignore it. I don't respond honestly. It's just not fun reading them all." You said.

"We're not mad at you, sweetheart." Matt said softly.

"Someone start a live on Instagram." Nick instructed.

Matt nodded and pulled out his phone, starting a live. You were confused slightly on why Nick suddenly wanted to do one now. You saw the fans flood in and the comments soon follow.

"Hey everyone, I know this is sudden but we have a very important subject to discuss. Chris show them the comments." Nick said.

Chris held up your phone, showing the comments the best he could. You then realised what it was about.

"This is our sister's Instagram comments. As you can see, most of them are sweet, but there are a good few that aren't. More of those hateful comments are rolling in and we're not fucking having it." Nick continued.

"If any of you out there think it's funny to leave a hate comment or DM, then one, your not a real fan and two, your just a horrible person. A lot of these comments come from an account that doesn't have anything on. Be a real person and grow the fuck up." He finished.

"This goes for in person too. We just met these three girls who wanted pictures but one was so fucking rude to Y/n that I deleted them. None of us are taking you saying shit that isn't true about our sister." Matt then said.

The live continued, the guys speaking about the topic and how they weren't going to accept anymore hate towards you or any of their other family or friends. You spoke up a bit, but let them have their talk.

When they wrapped up the live, Chris gave you your phone back, letting you see a lot of the comments gone. You smiled at the three of them.

"Thank you." You said.

"Anytime kid." Nick said, ruffling your hair.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Falling Slowly

Summary; Everyone told you to stay away from big, bad Eddie Munson.

You were a good girl and he was in some people's minds, the devil.

But the pull to Eddie was too strong and you were powerless to resist.

Warnings; Older Eddie, Minors DNI. 18+, mentions of sex, soft Eddie, fluff, minimal angst.

The reader is 26, and Eddie is 40.

If you enjoyed this pls consider reblogging, liking, etc. It's very much appreciated 😘

❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Everyone told you to stay away from Eddie Munson, he was sin, plain and simple.

"Oh he's bad news don't you know? The attitude, the constant women, stay away my dear if you know what's good for you" that was a rant from your old neighbour " Mrs Fitz who knew all the gossip on the streets.

You had seen him around a few times, he had women falling at his feet, drawn to the don't fuck with me attitude he portrayed.

The tattoos, brown hair in a low bun and those big brown eyes and dimples made your heart skip a beat.

Nobody had ever made you feel like that, so intensely and who set every part of you alight with longing.

You'd watch him from afar, only for him to catch your eye and a little smirk would cross his face, a quirk of his eyebrow that was practically taunting you to come closer.

The first time he talked to you is when you were at the grocery store deciding on what Ben and Jerry's flavour you wanted.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you caught a hint of cologne, leather and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke.

"Personally the cookie dough is my favourite" you turn around and Eddie is staring down at you, his big brown eyes dancing in amusement.

"Oh, hi" Every inch of you is tingling at how close he is to you. He reaches behind you and grabs a tub.

"You know I've caught you looking looking over at me in the garage a few times, come on over and say hello princess. I don't bite...much" he winks and walks away and there's an aching longing stirring in your stomach as you watch him go.

The encounters got more frequent, and more teasing from Eddie and yourself ( which surprised you)

Your next door neighbour, your friends warned he was just after one thing.

They didn't realise how much you craved that one thing, you weren't stupid. You knew what Eddie wanted and you wanted it just as much.

Everyone told you to stay away from him.

Yet you didn't. After much deliberation you had finally decided to take a risk and went to the garage where Eddie worked.

You both knew what was going to happen, the tension was unbearable and only sated the moment his lips met yours.

It was hot and mindblowing, Eddie driving orgasm after orgasm out of you as he fucked you relentlessly.

It was just as incredible for him and that's why you two met up again and again.

The sex was incredible, Eddie pleasured you in ways you had never even dreamed of.

You didn't care what anyone said about him and looked past all the rumours and hearsay.

"You really should stay away from me Princess," he tells you one night as you are entwined in his sheets, head resting on his chest.

This makes you shoot up and gaze at him nervous, stomach sinking. His demeanour is brooding, playful energy gone and his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

"I don't want to. Do you want me to?" you murmur and his eyes soften as he looks down at you.

"No, no I really fucking don't but people fare finding out about us and I'm the devil trying to corrupt the sweet, good girl" you roll your eyes.

"What we do is no one's business, Eddie, I'm a grown-ass woman and make my own decisions on who I want to be with and I want you"

The tenseness that surrounds him vanishes and he pulls you close to him, chest to chest and into a searing kiss.

❤️

Eddie had you settled on the table, his head buried between your thighs, you moan and tangle your hands in his hair.

"You're divine" he murmurs and stands up, pulling you close to him, taut against his strong body.

"Beautiful" he groans and presses tender kisses over your neck, to your cheeks.

Something had shifted between you and Eddie, nights previously only about sex had changed. There was still a lot of sex but a lot of talking, of laughter and silliness.

Deep discussions and tender moments between you two that occurred more and more often.

Eddie held you against his chest as he read to you from his or your favourite books, flowers given when you met on a few instances, sweet, thoughtful gestures. Learning to play the guitar from Eddie who patiently taught you, bonding over a shared love of horror movies.

Of course you were falling in love with Eddie, it was hard not to but the feeling of dread in your gut persisted that if he knew about these feelings it would cause him to pull away didn't shift.

Things were different though, deeper, more...

He kisses from the apex of your thigh all the way up your body, over your breasts and neck, leaving love bites and you moaning in pleasure.

"What do you want sweetheart? Want to worship you princess" you kiss him tenderly and look deep into his eyes.

"You, I just want you" his bug brown eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths inside you. The sex is slow, tender and not once does his gaze leave yours.

When you both reach your climax his lips press to your forehead and you lay in a post-coital glow that leaves you breathless, warm and with the realisation that you truly love Eddie Munson.

❤️

Eddie didn't expect to fall in love with you, he avoided that shit like the plague but boy he fell hard for you.

He assumed you'd be a fling just like the others, you'd both move on in a few weeks or he would pull away before things had any chance of being serious.

That's what he usually did and yet the more he got to know you, the more time you spent together he began to fall for you.

At first, he tried to resist the feeling because it scared the shit out of him but the thought of distancing himself from you, ending things made his heart clench painfully.

Serious, rip his heart out kinda pain.

The truth was he thought about you all the time, missed you when you were elsewhere, his pillow smelt of your perfume and he would bury his face into it, inhaling the sweetness, he adored kissing you, making you laugh, hearing your moans or the way you said his name was fucking heavenly.

He was falling deeply, head over heels.

How the fuck was he going to tell you? He had never had this conversation before, never been in love with anyone.

It's not like he was worried you didn't feel the same way, he knew you did. It was more the fact of saying I love you to someone for the first time.

Three words but to him, they were more fucking terrifying than anything he ever encountered in The Upside Down.

You're at his trailer now, dancing along to a song on the radio and he's watching you no doubt with the happiest smile on his face.

You look so fucking cute and he captures you in his arms and kisses you until you're laughing and cuddled into his arms.

You peer up at him, your beautiful eyes full of happiness, shining with adoration.

"I need to tell you something princess" he's nervous as shit and has no idea what he is going to say. All he knows is he needs to say it because the thought of you not being in his life is his worst nightmare.

Not knowing how much he loves you and how you've changed his life in so many ways, that he's the happiest he's been in his life.

"What?" you take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, it gives him the courage to speak up.

"I love you, his voice is shaky at first, then grows stronger as he repeats himself. I'm so in love with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I need you to know how fucking special you are, that I want to be with you always, you're who I want to be with for the rest of my life"

The look on your face is something he will never forget, sheer happiness radiating from you.

"I love you too Edward Munson" Those three words might have terrified him to say out loud but hearing them is a different matter.

The wave of ecstasy he feels is amazing. His lips press to yours and he whispers he loves you over and over again.

Huh? Maybe those three words aren't so scary after all.

[mattsturniolosmuse]

Talk To Me

Johnny Cade x Fem! Reader

Summary: You've been dating Johnny for 3 months. You've never talked in front of the gang; you are selectively mute. You hate talking, you're scared people will judge you based off of what you say. One day, you're sticking up for yourself and Johnny, and hearing your voice turns him on. Turns out you are a lot louder than you give up to be.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), sub! reader, dom! johnny, unprotected sex, dirty talk, use of pet names

"What do you guys think?" Darry asks the gang, following his question of 'what icecream should we get for Ponyboy's birthday?'

Most of the gang replied with chocolate. When it came to you, you shrugged.

"That's alright, angel, just point to the colour." Johnny says, grabbing some crayons off of the kitchen counter. You point at the pink one.

"Strawberry?" He asks. You nod. The votes came out as 5 for chocolate and 2 for strawberry.

"I'm going to take a smoke." Johnny says, stepping outside. You follow him, grabbing the cigarette out of his hand that he offered you. He lights it.

"How you been doin?" Johnny asks you. You nod in response.

"Good? That's good." Johnny says, pausing.

"You can talk to me. I won't judge you, I promise." He says, looking at you wearily. You shake your head.

"No? That's ok." He says, dissapointed.

"I'll bet your voice is really pretty." He says, stomping out his cigarette.

You shake your head again. It ain't.

"Want to go to Dairy Queen?" Johnny asks you. You get up, signalling that you would like him to. He locks his fingers with yours. He admires your face. He's always loved it.

Your e/c eyes that were so full of fear, but lit up whenever someone talked about something you enjoyed. Your cheeks were always rosy, especially when it was cold. Your lips were often coated in your favourite lip gloss; an orange flavour. He found himself thinking about your lips. About how he had never heard a word fall out of them.

"You're so pretty, angel." Johnny says to you, squeezing your hand. You blush.

The roar of an engine cracks Johnny out of his fantasizing about you. He looks behind him, and turning the corner, is a blue mustang. His heart starts hammering in his chest. He grips your hand tighter.

"So, uh- how was your day?" He asks, realizing you haven't noticed the mustang, and not wanting to scare you.

You shrug. The mustang speeds up.

"Sorry, angel, but we gotta run." Johnny says, dragging you with him. You guys try to outrun the vehicle, but, it being a vehicle, it was impossible. You trip on a rock and fall.

"Angel. Fuck. I'm sorry." Johnny says as one of the soc's grab his arm, the other one grabbing yours.

"Hey, pretty girl. I've seen you around school. You know who I am?" The soc asks you, scraping hair out of your face with his blade. Tears are silently pouring down your face as you shake your head.

"Leave her alone, man, please." Johnny says, struggling to get the words out with a blade to his own throat.

"Come on, pretty girl. Talk. I know you can." The soc says into your ear, squeezing your thigh gently.

No. No, no no. You think to yourself.

"Fine. If you won't talk, we'll take it out on your boyfriend here." The soc says, and Johnny got a punch to the stomach. More tears splash onto your face.

"NO! STOP! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" You scream. The soc is so surprised, he let's go of your arm.

"Angel..." Johnny says, looking up at you in shock.

"Come on guys, let's get out of here." The soc says, and him and his buddies pile back into the car and drive away.

You look back to Johnny. He's on the floor, propped up on his elbows.

You grab his hand and stand him up. "Let's go back." You say.

Johnny is suddenly aware of the tent in his pants. He'd never here you speak a word out of those pretty lips, and it made him crazy.

"Yeah. Ok." Johnny says, limping beside you, still in shock.

>>>><<<<

"What happened?"

"Are you OK, Johnnycakes?"

"Why is he limping, Y/N?"

These were some of the questions that were fired at you when you got back to the Curtis house. You shrug. Johnny heads upstairs, and you sit on the couch.

You are munching (sorry) on popcorn, when Johnny calls to you.

"Hey, angel, can you come here a sec?" Johnny asks you. You get up, placing the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table.

You enter the guest room, closing the door behind you, and Johnny is sitting on the bed, shirtless. A bruise had begun on his side.

You sit beside him and place your hand on the bruise, your other hand cupping his cheek.

"I'm glad you talked." Johnny whispers, his eyes flicking towards your lips then back up to your eyes. You smile, kissing him gently. The whole motion sent fireworks going off inside your stomach. His lips were soft; and they tasted like cigarettes and vanilla.

Johnny gently places you down on the bed, crawling over you, your lips not leaving eachothers.

Johnny tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and you feel a wet spot growing in your panties as Johnny's knee rubs against your crotch. You whimper quietly as you feel Johnny's tongue brush your lower lip.

You open your mouth, and Johnny's tongue clashes against yours. Johnny moans at the contact, and he slides his hands down your waist and into your shirt.

He begins to squeeze your chest gently, fondling the nipples in between his fingers.

"J-johnny..." You moan. You saying Johnny's name just turned him on more.

"I need you, angel." Johnny says, pulling away from you, his lust clouded eyes piercing into yours. You nod, pulling his black shirt over his head. He kisses you again, and you mess up his hair with your hand. Your other hand trails his stomach, over his slight abs and chest.

Johnny removes your jean jacket and the top underneath, and you unclasp your bra. Johnny groans and stares at you. You blush, averting his eyes, but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, baby." Johnny says, attaching his lips to your left breast while kneading the other. You moan loudly.

He leaves gentle kisses all the way down to your black jeans. He looks up at you for permission, and you nod.

He unbuttons them, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. Johnny bites his lip at the sight of your pussy, his cock throbbing. Your pussy was dripping into the mattress, and he tried so hard to stop himself from rutting into the mattress. He wanted to save himself for you.

He places a gentle kiss to your clit, and your let out a small moan, tangling your hands in Johnny's hair as he flattens his tongue against your pussy.

"Johnny!" You moan out, causing him to go faster. He flicks his tongue in and out of your hole, licking up all of your slick.

"You taste so good, baby." Johnny moans against your clit. It sends vibrations through you, and you throw your head back. The knot in your stomach tightens.

"Johnny, close." You moan, blushing. Johnny pushes his face further into you as you release. His face is dripping with what was a mixture of your slick, cum and his saliva. The sight made you wet all over again.

Johnny wipes his face off with a blanket, and cowers over you again, kissing you gently. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

"Ready? If you want me to stop, just squeeze my hand, and I'll pull out." Johnny says, lacing his fingers with yours. You nod.

He pushes his tip in, and you throw your head back. You squeeze your eyes shut from pain and pleasure. Johnny bottoms out, and begins to thrust in and out of you slowly. You tried to keep your moans in, but it was impossible.

Johnny buries his face in your neck, kissing and sucking hickeys into the skin.

"J-johnny..." You moan, clenching around him. He picks up his pace, his hips pistoning into you at an alarming rate. The only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and moans that fell from Johnny's mouth and occasionally yours.

"Baby, you feel so good. So tight." Johnny says, kissing you on the lips. His tongue finds yours immediately and you bite it. Johnny groans.

"Close." You moan, clenching down on him.

"Yeah. Come on. Come on my dick, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." Johnny says, bringing you closer to release. You never thought you'd ever hear those words come out of him.

You cum around him, and he thrusts a few more times before pulling out and releasing on your stomach.

"God. I love you, angel." Johnny says, trying to catch his breath.

"Me too." You whisper. You hear a knock on the door, and Johnny scrambles to grab a blanket to cover you.

"Y-yes?" Johnny calls. The door opens and Dally steps into the room.

"You know, if y'all are gonna fuck, find a place that maybe doesn't have 6 other people in it." He says with a smirk. You blush, hiding in Johnny's neck.

This was so much fun to write! Thank you to the anon who requested it. Keep the requests coming!

[yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere]

pls elaborate on athens!

Omg it was so cool!!!!

We went for a sightseeing holiday, because I'm an ancient Greece nerd, so I'm going to just dump about the sights and then move on to other things

I'm going to try and use a cut here for the rest of the post, idk if it's going to work though

So, we went up the acropolis, saw the Parthenon (HUGE, very cool) (I did get confused at the acropolis entrance because it looks like a big temple), the temple of Athena Nike (cool), the Erechtheion (awesome), the place where the first olive tree was (I infodumped a lot this holiday), and we saw the Odeon of Herodes Atticus (thought it was the theatre of Dionysos). We also saw the Theatre of Dionysos from a distance which was cool. On the same day we saw the Temple of Olympian Zeus (bugger than I thought) and Hadrian's Arch, and the Acropolis museum which was really cool (we saw the Caryatids and talked a lot of shit about Lord Elgin). We saw the Roman Agora and Hadrian's Library on the next day, and the day after was the National Archeological Museum and the Benaki Museum. And the next day was the Panathenaic Stadium (stairs to get up to the top were. Scary) and the museum that was there (lots of Olympic torches and posters, plus the mascots from the 2012 games. I was like "hey I know those guys"). And on the last day we saw the Ancient Agora (insanely huge, birthplace of democracy)

Other things that happened: I fell asleep sitting up on the plane there (slept through the worst plane landing of my mum's life somehow). And then standing up on the Metro as well? There are also a lot of stray cats in Greece, but it's less like they're strays and more like they live outside? People feed them and they just wander around, it's really cool.

Also, everything was way closer together than we thought based on the map we had lmao, so on the first day we were like "why is the Parthenon right there, I thought it was ages away"

Iced coffee in Greece? Brilliant, would recommend.

Also I think in Greece they're cool giving teens alcohol if they're with an adult, because a waiter literally told me that on our last day when I asked for a glass of wine, and his eyes bugged out when my mum said I was 20, because he thought I was 16. As I told him, "this happens all the time"

Anyway, Greek food is really good, but I swear I eat less when it's hot, which is very annoying because why can I not eat half a salad and then a whole plate of souvlaki and rice? Why must I be punished in this way?

Also I had an ice cream accident, by which I mean I got two humongous scoops of ice cream and they were okay flavours and then they melted loads and my hands were sticky all the way back to where we were staying.

Also! Hot as FUCK. SO HOT. Flames on the side of my face hot

My recommendation for Athens: do it, but bring SPF 50, white flowy clothes, a hat and sunglasses. Also a hand fan. And don't go places when it's hot in the day, you will regret it. Also plan where your going beforehand and buy your tickets to go places so you have a plan. Also if you are afraid of heights do not go up the Panathenaic Stadium. It is scary.

Also I spent most of the plane back reading Glee fanfiction (specifically "mr schuester belongs in federal prison" because I had the whole work loaded) and then on the drive home from the airport I slept a lot and then woke up to Me Against the Music (GCV) , because I'd put it on the playlist. And then when the next song played I started saying delusional shit because it was like 5am Athens time and I'd had half an hour of sleep

[fivelakesinwriting]

Bodies [Bodies, Bodies] Rafe Cameron

Author's Notes:Back on my Rafe Cameron nonsense for one night only. Story inspired by Hot Girl by Charli XCX . Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, , Mentions of drinking, Mentions of violence - no acts of violence, Drug use (be safe out there), Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smutty * (Rafe is a Peeping Tom, Some clothes are removed ) MINORS DNI

Requested? NOPE. Requests are closed for the time being.

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

I'm a hot girl, pop girl, rich girl I'm a bitch girl, fast girl, "catch me if you can" girl You a swerve girl, who the fuck are you, girl? You just wanna be me

I'm a hot girl, pop girl, rich girl I'm a bitch girl, fast girl, "catch me if you can" girl You a swerve girl, who the fuck are you girl? You just wanna be me

There were few people on the island that were richer than the Cameron family. They existed, but were few and far between. The Cameron's considered themselves at the top of the food chain in their small town, but only one family seemingly eclipsed them in wealth and status.

The O'Neil family had moved in beside the Cameron's over a year ago and everywhere the Cameron's were, the O'Neil's seemed to follow. Even their children. Their family mirrored the Cameron's in almost every way. An elder son, a daughter a few years younger, and another child from the second marriage - this time a boy instead of a young girl.

Rafe Cameron had gotten into more than his fair share of fist fights with Brandon O'Neil. They finished their last year of high school together, both of them walking across the stage with a black eye each from a fist fight at a kegger.

Frankie - Francesca - O'Neil on the other hand, was friends with everyone. Including her Cameron counterpart. Sarah and Frankie spent time together outside of school, going shopping and hanging out at parties together. But there was more than meets the eye with Frankie. Rafe Cameron knew a side of her that other people didn't..

Pull up to the mansion, pull up to the party All my friends are so hot, we're gonna get it started Pull up to the mansion, but you are not invited Lip gloss on, and I look good

'Cause I'm a hot girl, pop girl, rich girl I'm a bitch girl, fast girl, "catch me if you can" girl You a swerve girl, who the fuck are you girl? You just wanna be me

Rafe Cameron heard her approach the house before he saw her. The loud music coming from her Benz could be heard blocks away, the bass turned too high. He stood on the front porch and waited as he sipped at the drink in his Solo cup. She parked with complete disregard for anyone else that might have to leave, her car parked sideways in the drive. He scoffed as he watched her apply her lip gloss in the rear view mirror as the music from her car engulfed the front yard.

The music turned off as Frankie got out of the car, flanked by a group of girls. She walked up the driveway, high heels clacking along the pavement and smiled at Rafe.

"Frankie." Rafe nodded, shamelessly eyeing her up and down.

"Rafe Cameron." Frankie responded as she eyed him up in turn, walking passed him and into the house.

"You have no chance. That girl is way too hot for you." Topper mumbled as he walked up behind Rafe, his eyes following his friend's gaze.

"Too hot for me? Fucking watch this." Rafe scoffed, his tongue swiping over his lips as he turned on his heel and walked into the house with a mission to prove them wrong.

I'm a hot girl, and I come in different flavours All the hot boys got me as their screen saver Tall green, money green just like Bottegas Taking off our clothes in the window for the neighbours

'Cause I'm really hot (yeah), dancing in Stilettos on the table top Rodeo Drive is where I like to shop (ha) And I can race you there in my Bentley truck (vroom-vroom)

He didn't mean to stare. And it wasn't his fault that her bedroom was directly across the yard from his. He had walked into his room to grab his phone charger, which sat at his desk by the window that looked in the O'Neil's backyard. As he passed by the window and grabbed the charger she caught his eye.

To be fair, the blinds were open and she was right there taking off her clothes. He couldn't help but stare as she slowly pulled that red dress over her head and drop it to floor.

"Fuck." Rafe breathed out as he ran a hand over his chin, his eyes boring into her through the window panes. Across from him, so close he felt like he could reach out and touch her, she adjusted the straps of her bra before snapping her thong against her hips.

She knew he was watching her.

With the remaining battery in his phone, Rafe sent a text across the yard to Francesca.

Party on Saturday. Come over.

'Cause when I pull up, I step out and shine (yeah) I'm like Tony, I'm cutting the line (hi Tony) Yeah, I'm buttery, creamy, and fine (mwah) My acrylics around my white wine (ching)

I travel 'round the globe Paris Fashion Week, and I'm in the front row (bonjour) But I'm going skiing even when the slopes are closed 'Cause I'm so hot with snow up my nose

Rafe walked back into the house while the music overwhelmed his senses, he felt it in his temples and up his spine. He made a beeline towards the girl who had shown him very little interest despite undressing in the window across from his. He gently took her by the elbow as he whispered in her ear over the music.

"Come upstairs with me." Rafe breathed into her ear, the way she clutched her plastic cup filled with wine didn't go unnoticed.

He led her upstairs to his bedroom away from on-lookers and other party-goers. He closed the door behind them, but didn't lock it. He pressed his back against the old wooden door and turned to face her.

"You know I hate it when you ignore me, Frankie." Rafe grumbled as he placed his drink down on his bedside table and walked over to her. His shoulder brushed against hers as he walked passed her towards his desk by the window. He pulled open a drawer and pulled out a tiny vial, placing it on the desktop.

"Did it bruise your ego, Rafe?" She smiled softly, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She kissed his back over his shirt, hands pressing into his stomach.

"You know how it makes me feel." Rafe grunted as he placed one hand over hers on his stomach as the other ran through his hair, pushing it off his face.

"And you know that you invited my brother's friends. And they would tell Brandon we're hooking up. And you're too cute for another black eye." She responded into the material of his shirt .

"I let your brother off easy." Rafe snapped as he turned around to face her.

"I know you did, Rafe. Now. Are you going to share, or do I have to ask another guy here for that?" Frankie replied with a nod towards the vial of cocaine on his desk.

"It's me or nobody." Rafe replied with pursed lips, holding the vial up between them.

"That's how I like it." She smiled, her eyes watching his every movement.

He poured out the smallest bit of the white powder onto the flat of his ring then brought it up to her nose. He smiled as she held her wrist to steady it, taking the drug in one whole sniff.

"That's my girl." Rafe nodded before he tapped out a bit more of the drug onto the back of his own hand and brought it up to his face. He kept his eyes on her as he inhaled, watching her pupils dilate.

As the drug went to his head he held her face in the palm of his hand and bent down to kiss her lips - something he had been dying to do all night long. Her hands made their way into his hair for a soft pull as he backed her up towards his bed. He held his weight on his hands above her as they kissed, letting her push up the back of his shirt to feel his skin.

"As much as I love this red dress on you. Take it off." Rafe grumbled into their kiss as he reached his right hand down to feel her bare thigh, her skin so soft beneath his palm. He smirked, catching his breath as she shimmied out of her dress beneath him.

"Your turn." She whispered as she tugged at his shirt.

"Only if you leave your shoes on for me." Rafe breathed out, despite taking his shirt off anyways.

"Deal." Frankie replied as she used her strength to push him onto his back, straddling his hips.

Rafe laid beneath her, taking hold of her heels to keep her in place and he knew he would do anything to be in this position again and again. He would wait for the parties in the big houses, or the beach keggers. He would even wait until it was just them in the back of his truck, or the back of her Benz. Whatever her had to do to have her body on top of his.

I'm a hot girl, pop girl, rich girl I'm a bitch girl, fast girl, "catch me if you can" girl You a swerve girl, who the fuck are you girl? You just wanna be me

I'm a hot girl, pop girl, rich girl I'm a bitch girl, fast girl, "catch me if you can" girl You a swerve girl, who the fuck are you girl? You just wanna be me

***(I'm sorry if this isn't that good, or is genuine nonsense. It was an idea that just hit me in the face and I knew I'd regret it if I didn't write it)

**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being as well as taking requests, just while I get my "ducks" in a row after coming back.Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

[respirationalactress]

Monday night/ cancer new moon/ at 4:30am my dog cried for the cold

A mental block I have RE starting a blog is - what if I have nothing to say? And I rarely do, in the way that I never write; but I always do, in the way that I'm always talking. But I want to be writing, and I've listened to like 5 episodes of This Jungian Life pod recently, so I'm making a dream analysis blog in the hopes that my nonconscious dream mind will prompt the things that my hyper-conscious writing mind is too stage-frightened to type. An aspirational writing practice.

I was on a camping trip with my family, and I went to the top of the hill, where there was a servo. A delivery boy, a teenager, drove up to me. He had a parcel for me, but he was confused by the name. He was reading the company name, Vevoke. I didn't really care about the package, it was something for my old workplace, but I thought the kid seemed nice, so I asked him to show me around the town, and he did. I asked, don't you have more deliveries to make? He shrugged, no, I only had two or three deliveries today, and I get paid by the hour so I may as well take a while.

I had a nice time driving around with him. I could tell he could tell I was queer, and I felt an affinity with him, like we both knew that if two gays could randomly find each other in front of a small town servo and drive around some streets together in the afternoon then... idk, anything would be possible etc. It was nice. I dropped him off near the servo and went back down the hill to where my family had set up camp. It turns out my brother knew the kid somehow.

This is bringing up for me a queering the map flavour of nostalgia. The kid in my dream wasn't anyone I know in real life, and it's not the first time I've created friends in my dream. Often I create people I crush hard on, but this time I had a more maternal, maybe even fraternal feeling towards him. It's interesting that the character was so specifically a teenager who could drive and had a job. These were things I wanted when I was young and living in a small town. In comparison, there is a very specific mention of my old job in the dream. I'd just had dinner with a friend from that job in the irl hours before the dream, and we were talking about our boss, a deeply repressed, deeply misogynistic, trenchantly evil older gay man. I remember once he shouted "FUCK THEM IN THE ARSE" in a meeting, after hearing we got a leg up on our competitors. As someone relatively new to arse-fucking at the time, I felt so angry that a gay man would evoke it as a kind of capitalistic, domineering... man thing. Now I feel sad for him. Maybe he really does think anal sex is so abhorrent; maybe he and his partner only treat each other like mates until the lights are off, until they're drunk?

I like that in my dream I wasn't needed as some wise person who could help the kid step into his queerness or figure anything out. Being gay was never even talked about. In fact, it was the kid who had something to give me, in the form of a parcel, which I didn't really care much for except for that it brought us both into a presence with each other, where the presence and normalcy of a tension free gay friendship is what was needed. I think about this in the context of the pressure I feel by my desires to mother a child, to let them grow up with the whole freedom of their own self. I think about this in the context of the anger I felt at my dog, crying at 4:30am in the cold, crying for the heat of a proximate body, not needing me to fix anything, just needing me.

I dream of a world where young gay kids only have a few things to do as they cruise around town, where they can run into other queers and not feel the shame drilled into them push fear and blood into their faces, push them away from remembering the world at the top of the hill, the world that their bodies promised them, which was always theirs, to make echoes, to befriend, to arse-fuck in........

P.S. We need to save Colleen Ballinger's brother's dancing child.......

P.P.S. God save my little brother, a sparkie who has always somehow known about the gayness.

[robotslenderman]

Cultural Quirks:

You're expected to chill on the left and overtake on the right, except when you're not, but the rules about when you do and don't are (socially) strict. Do not overtake someone on the left when you're driving. Do not stand on the left side of the escalator.

Australians will stand in the middle of the walkway having a family reunion and you're expected to just deal with it. In the UK, if a parent sees their child standing in a direction you happen to be looking at, they will full on crash tackle their offspring and drag them away, apologising the entire time. Here it is perfectly socially acceptable to stop just in front of someone standing in the way and, instead of going around them, frown at them until they move. I have been on both ends of this and I fucking love it.

Having said that Australian drivers will stop if you sneeze near a crossing but so far in London it's been a bit of a coin toss, pedestrians and drivers are very much every person for themselves. With those insane streets it's no surprise.

I haven't had a good shower since I got here bc the water pressure on every shower I've used has been lousy. But one was an old building and another was a cheap closet hotel room so as far as I know this isn't the norm. Also the hard water is murdering my skin.

I don't know if Brits hate vegetables or if Australians love them but there's a lot of meals here with little to no vegies at all. They just straight up sell rolls with meat on them and no salad.

"Huh, this mince pie has sugar on it. Maybe it does something to the flavour, I'd like to tr - WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS THERE JAM IN THIS???"

Constantly forgetting crossings generally don’t make noise here and getting tripped up because I was distracted by my phone.

Having said all that, London zebra crossings are a lot more obvious because the ones I’ve seen so far all have these flashing yellow lights. Makes it easy in the dark.

When I was on a bus tour the tour guide pointed out a building he said was “brand new.” It was made of solid brick. In Sydney our building standards are garbage and bricks aren’t cheap enough so you don’t see them in anything built this century. Remember that video of the dude sending his hand through the wall to pick up a drink? Yeah.

My window has double glazing and I was so happy I took a picture.

A lot of what I thought was my mother's social anxiety turned out to be just her being British.

Was wondering why so many people were triggering security alarms in Oxford St. That’s how I discovered some crossings do, in fact, make noise. They sound EXACTLY like the anti shoplifter alarms at home.

There are SO MANY FLATCAPS TO BUY. I wanted one but the shopkeeper was weird bc my vagina means I'm assigned no flatcaps at birth. So I didn't get it. But I did get other cool hats! London is superior to Australia in hat related matters.

Pret-a-Manger is still stalking me but I accept their offerings of sustenance so I have come to tolerate their existence.

It's weird. The cold is a lot colder here, and far more biting, but also weirdly pleasant. At home, though, the cold just seeps into your bones and sits with you all day. I've had British expats tell me they felt far colder in Aus than the UK and I get it now. Cold is temporary here in the UK because everything is heated, and it's SO cold it's actually invigorating. At home... it's just cold. Inside is as cold as outside. You can cool down but in winter you can't warm up. At work everyone sits with heaters under their desks going full blast but the room stays cold. It's not as cold as the UK and yet somehow it's worse. In the UK the cold doesn't have a chance to seep in. In Australia you can't get it out. The cold isn't as cold but it's so much stronger.

I see why people prefer cold now, it's because they genuinely don't *get* cold, because they're moving from heated building to heated building so they carry heat with them always and by the time it fades they're somewhere warm again. That doesn't happen in Sydney.

I've always felt like a mutant bc at home I always turned the heating right up, like I'm a cold blooded lizard, but they actually do that here too so now I'm convinced my lizardry is from the British side of my family.

[ciaossu-imagines]

3, 6, 9, 12, 13, and 22 for the Admin?

Aww, I’m so happy and flattered someone wanted to ask about me! I honestly figured I’d get hits for the canon characters off of some of those questions, but this is a really pleasant and lovely surprise so thank you, anon dear!

3. What irritates the mun?

Honestly, there is a lot that does irritate me. I’ve gotten a lot better and a lot more tolerant as I age but I still have the little things that drive me up the wall, mostly due to mental health issues (for example, certain sounds can just about trigger panic attacks in me, such as really moist or wet sounds associated with eating or swallowing and anything that triggers my OCPD). For little, silly little pet peeves though, people who cross the street where there’s not a crosswalk, all willy-nilly and expecting vehicles to just stop for them, when there’s a designated crosswalk, with flashing lights and such, not even ten feet away. I don’t drive but it still bothers the fuck out of me because it seems very inconsiderate and selfish.

6. Does the mun have a habit that’s annoying?

Again, as I mention above, I have OCPD (much like OCD, just with different compulsions and obsessions). I have been told it makes me incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to both live with or be around for a long time because my compulsions and obsessions, while I’m in therapy to help manage them, do mean that I have to do things certain ways and have things certain ways. I also can’t do spontaneity. I have to know what each day is going to bring so I can schedule my day in my head ahead of time and have time to come up with schedules, routines, a back-up plan for if A, B, or C occurs, and then back-up plans for that back-up plans for absolute worse case scenarios that could potentially occur for that day. I need to know what my day is bringing my way and it means surprises…no. Spontaneity? No. It’s aggravating to everyone else in my life, to say the least.

9. What’s the mun’s favourite thing to drink?

It's definitely coffee. I have a pretty severe caffeine addiction and go between energy drinks (grape Rockstars because they're cheap and I'm a sucker for anything grape flavoured) and coffee. I've been told I need to drink more water and I am trying but water is unappetizing, not going to lie!

12. Does the mun like talking to people? Or are they shy?

This is actually kind of a tricky one, not going to lie. I will say that virtually, digitally, I am more open and sociable. There's a comfort in virtual interactions, where I have the time to think on my words and what I want to say, where I can take the time to reply and don't need to worry about people's judgments based on my physical looks or mannerisms. In person is different. I wouldn't describe myself as shy, though others do often. I would classify myself as more reserved and honestly, extremely wary of other people. I need time to get to know people - I'm fine to talk to anyone who wants to start a conversation with me but it's all going to be surface level and done with my retail face on. I'll take an interest in them and can happily listen to others talk about themselves but they get nothing more personal about me than my name. I need time and repeated exposure to people before I 'learn them' enough to feel comfortable having them in my life at all and even then, how much of my authentic self someone sees is very, very much dependent on what I've observed and picked up about them. There are people at work who I've been working with for months who I know a lot about and who call me a great work friend...they still know nothing more than my name because there's things that make me distrust these people or that allow me to know that if I was open about this or that part of my life, that it would only create conflict. I also don't actively tend to seek out new relationships in person but it largely boils down to past trauma and my mind automatically going 'yeah, that person seems cool, but the question you need to ask yourself is how can, and will, they hurt you?' So yeah, tl;dr: Not shy, just a fucked up human being.

13. Does the mun believe in the supernatural/paranormal?

Yes and no. I do believe in the supernatural and paranormal but I'm a skeptic at heart. I have experienced ghosts, but I usually assume most famous hauntings are faked for publicity and attention unless proof exists otherwise. I read my own tarot cards every morning and believe the cards can bestow accurate insight and information. But having read tarot for extra money in the past, I can tell you that a lot of tarot readers are fakes, using combinations of cold and hot reading like many of the celebrity psychics and mediums do. Hell, I'll admit to doing it too. Because when people go to get their tarot read, they want entertainment and they want to believe in positive things coming to them. They don't want accurate readings, especially if the cards spell out periods of hardship. I believe in aliens, because believing we're the only intelligent life anywhere is prideful to the point of delusion but I don't believe there's ever been a real UFO sighting. We haven't evolved in our knowledge enough to visit far distant planets so my assumption is that, to an alien race who has evolved that far, we likely look like savages to them and assuming they'd want to come study us seems bizarrely like prideful hubris to me.

22. Does the mun like to play games?

I do actually! I don't play as many video games as I used to, mostly visual novels and otome games now. That being said, I used to play DnD a lot during my high school years and I still love it, though I haven't really played in a while. I love other roleplaying games like it too. For anyone intrigued by the idea but too intimidated by all the classifications and stats and bits and bobs that go into tabletop RPG's like DnD, Grant Howitt makes some amazing and easy RPG's over here! I also love playing card games of all sorts, but will say that I'm a beast at Gin Rummy and lousy at Poker. Board games are fun every now and again, but I have to be in the right mood and it absolutely CANNOT be Monopoly. I fucking hate Monopoly with every fiber of my being.

[tacticaltaxonomist]

10 Facts

I got tagged by both @exultedshores and @merulanoir thank you <3 Let's see how quickly I forget everythign about myself, how do you even pick interesting things??? Rules: Share 10 facts about yourself and tag 10 other blogs! I want to get to know my mutuals, and the people I follow a little bit :) The facts can be about anything!

I've lived in 16 different placed across 4 countries. The longest stay in one spot was 10 years (the others were all much shorter).

Don't have higher education & barely passed HS ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

It's the Original Coca-Cola from a can, or no coke at all. Coke from a plastic bottle is on thin fucking ice. Don't get me started on pepsi and off/other brands. The one exception: og vanilla coke, i can drink her from plastic, i can drink her warm, i can drink her flat, she can do it all (the only thing she can't do is be in stores).

I'm really good at combining flavours I know in my head, this means I can cook something new/new combinations without taste testing. I'd give myself a 90% accuracy for end results meeting my calculations (usually it's not enough salt, but better too little than too much).

I have really good memory attached to locations and routes. For many story elements Vee and I came up with while out I can tell you exactly where we were, even years later.

Related to that, I have a good sense of orientation and can read maps well.

I like driving but havent done any in 9ish years.

Dream home is somewhere where my next neighbour is at least 30 mins-1h walk away. With forest. And a stream. Pref like, 3ha and the house smack dab in the middle. I'd permanently sacrifice internet access at home for that, I'm dead serious.

Know how to ride a horse and used to do it a lot! Miss it too.

Used to have a diving license, as in scuba.

Tagging @millipedeart @screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse @rollinwiththepunchesepunches @tamorisana @appleciderp @manyreblobs @ravenmichaelisstuff if you want to do it, no obligation

[cometconmain]

Not addressing anyone here. Just adding my recent experiences and thoughts on this concept.

Way too many people genuinely act like you don't get to be upset with someone trying to treat your human rights like pineapple on pizza. I fully agree. It's shitty as fuck. Bigots get to say the most vile things and everyone they're targeting has to treat them with fucking kid gloves and it's fucking bullshit. You have no obligation to be kind.

However, it is an unfortunate fact that most people (who are still reachable) learn and change when they're faced with calm challenges to their position, vs getting their head bitten off which is more likely to drive them into the arms of extremist groups who take advantage of their stress and confusion to pull them in. I've been trying to develop the patience and strength lately to build tolerance of lighter bigotry so I can talk with the person long enough to plant some seeds. I see it as less 'be kind' and more "is this person an actual lost cause or are they just parroting whatever because they've never had to think in their life about any beliefs they hold and only ever get to interact with a select handful of flavours of humanity? Can I reach them, even a little, then let them go and see what happens?"

I had a 2 hour conversation with a guy the other day who "doesn't believe in" climate change, thinks Trump is morally 'neutral' and that maybe segregating Trans and POC people at the Olympics is the answer to whether or not Trans people should be allowed to compete.

Stupid and fucked up? 300%.

He also held a lot of normal progressive views and was queer. Cognitive dissonance galore in this man. (He also somehow genuinely believes it's the Democrats rolling back queer rights and was surprised when I explained to him how the Supreme Court works and that they're the ones attacking human rights because the Court is currently controlled by Republicans, not Democrats. He was actually surprised so I'm concerned where the fuck he's getting his information from, damn. It's always so much 'fun' trying to understand and then explain American politics as an Australian to other Australians. XD )

I actually ended up managing to challenge the majority of the fucked up bullshit he spouted in a way that seemed to actually make him think. I could see and hear the way he was talking was someone with a very limited pool of information not knowing any better and he even literally said "I've never gotten to talk to someone like you before" and had a generally positive demeanour toward me the entire time (while internally I was going yuck yuck yuck yuck hold on deep breaths remember you had really shitty beliefs ten years ago and even recently and probably still have some you have to work on that make other people go yuck yuck yuck yuck hold on just let him hear himself and hear you and let it germinate).

A year ago I would have walked away and also stopped engaging with him entirely.

But this time I experimented with a different angle and because I put the effort in to assume ignorance and offer him active listening I think I gave him a lot to chew on. I could literally see him thinking about things in a way you only get when someone is actively listening back (compared to how they behave and speak when their only goal is to clobber and belittle and bad faith 'debate' you into the ground about your own goddamn human rights).

People are scared, people are ignorant, people lack education and a wide enough pool of experience to engage with to develop their own critical thought and self-improvement, and bad faith actors are always taking full advantage of this, ESPECIALLY at the political and law making level.

Please don't get me wrong though. None of this is to say everyone has to suddenly stand there for 2 hours getting slammed with rancid takes about their own identity, culture, race, sexuality or whatever else the person is casually stomping all over with their 'opinions' because they've never experienced what it's like to be on the receiving end of their own bullcrap. And if you're personally part of whatever group is being stomped on then yeah, if you don't have the energy to educate every random bigot while being expected to have no negative responses to their behaviour, then absolutely walk away. And anyone insisting you have some kind of obligation to take that to the face just to teach some random who thinks so little of you can fuck off.

But if you do have the capability - be it because you don't personally experience the thing but know how to help educate about it, or have enough patience left to try with this person because you think they're worth your effort - and you won't be putting yourself in danger by standing up to them, then please do give it a try occasionally. Even if all it does is help to remind you that bigots aren't a monolith and can hold the most progressive views available then turn around and slap you with 'ok but maybe we should segregate sports again' while so damn sure that's somehow not racist as fuck because they genuinely believe racism is when you look at brown skin and deny service or something and that's the full extent of education they have on what it is. (And that type of limited education extends to their understanding of other marginalised demographics too of course). Re-humanising the enemy is always going to be helpful for combating them, so you can try thinking of it like that too if you do decide you want to try with someone like this and need something to help you get through the conversation long enough to plant some seeds and hope they grow. Better to add people to our ranks than to 4Chan's.

Many people have helped me break away from dangerous subtler shitty beliefs and mentalities throughout my life simply by taking me through my paces on it and patiently challenging and then letting me grow, and it's made me a much better person. I'm so grateful to all of them and I'm trying to learn the skills to pass that on. I hope other people out there who have the energy to try this see this and give it a go when they can. A multi-faceted approach is usually the best way to go, I think, and there are enough of us out here that not everyone has to do this, but there are some who can (especially if they have relevant societal privileges to help shield them) and will and that can have a huge impact on changing the tide. (Just pick your battles carefully and stay safe.)

“Be kind to each other even if you disagree about politics”

Actually no, I’ll tell you to fuck off if you tell me I shouldn’t have rights. Hope this helps!

[byuntrash101]

Wohooo congrats on the 350!!!! 🎉 🎉🎉

I wannnna participate in ur zodiac special hehehehe 😎

1. 8th Mar

2. Baekhyun (well he’s the leading man haha)

3. Baekhyun and OC drinks wine while chilling at the jacuzzi

4. Smut — i’ll let you decide whether it fits or not haha 🤪

Thank you love!!! I hope you enjoy the storyyy!! Please tell me if I did good 👉👈

Ps: fuck the word count limit I just can't do anything smut AND short.

Warnings - smut, oral (m), praising, cum eating

Wine and Dine - Pisces!Reader & Taurus!Baekhyun

“So how’s this?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow proudly at your boyfriend as he sinks his body in the warm bubbly water.

Baekhyun has been stressed out lately. Work as an investment expert can be stressful of course and especially now that the stock market isn’t doing as well as he (and therefore his clients) anticipated. His Taurus nature is a little secretive but definitely not with the people he cares about. So he did talk to you about it but he brushed it off with a silly joke and acted like it wasn't a big deal. It was always hard for him to open up in that sense.

But it didn’t matter because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew exactly how to read him. Thanks to your almost supernatural Pisces intuition you knew with the simplest tug of his lips what was going on through his cute head.

“It’s amazing. Thank you y/n” he smiled genuinely at you before his dark circled eyes closed and he relaxed his back against the hottub.

“And wait it gets better” you pull out a tray with two glasses and a bottle of very fine wine. His eyes turn into little crescents. His love for anything edible and delicious is blatant and you don’t have to use your super intuition to see it.

You both sip on the wine and talk about anything but work. The evening is exactly like Baekhyun likes it. Private, intimate, soft music in the background and with you. Sure you are reserved too but Tauruses are literal hermits so it explains why you’re always the one convincing him to go out.

“I think I'm drunk” he says, setting the third empty glass back on the tray. You laugh out loud, tilting your head back and when you open your eyes back you catch Baekhyun staring at your chest.

“Hey!” you protest, still laughing and splashing him.

“What?” he says, catching your wrist in a strong grip. His expression isn’t humorous. It’s mischievous and you know those eyes. “Isn’t all of this mine?” he asks as he eyes you down like the most delicious meal.

“Y-yes” you huff out in a breath.

“Then put that pretty little mouth of yours to good use” The boldness of the Bull peaking through his lustful orbs as he licks his lips.

As a Pisces you tend to be a pleaser and especially in bed (or in the hottub here). And you would lie if you said there was anything else you would rather do other than pleasing your man right here and now.

You pulled down his bathing suit and he brought his hips up to the surface. Big hard cock made all wet and glossy by the water.

You wrapped your mouth around him and he sighed in satisfaction.

“Fuck baby your mouth is so good” he whispers quietly, eyes fluttering close.

You bop your head up and down knowing exactly how to please him, you go for the win straight away.

“Shit baby you’re so good for me. Such a good girl for me” his moans make your guts stir in want. His gentle hand on your neck and his sweet praises are driving you mad for him.

“Yeah baby don’t stop you’re gonna make me cum” he warns you and you double your efforts. Seconds later he shoots thick ropes of white burning cum right to the back of your throat as he moans and squirms. Delicious salty flavour takes over your tongue.

“Come baby open up show it to me” he says still panting. He smiles when he spots the results of your hard work in your mouth and the smirk spreads wider when you swallow the whole load.

“Good girl” he strokes your wet hair. “Now it’s my turn for dessert” he flips you over and pulls on your bikini bottom.

As a Taurus man giving back is one of his many qualities and you don’t intend to stop him.

[imgonnagetkilledbynutstink]

Hey, another GVF as Brittany Broski. This time the news video. This is a long one because it's literally the whole fucking video but I swear it'll be funny I swear (please read this it took me a long time)

//

Josh: hello everyone, welcome back to Eye Witness 69 news channel. I'm your host, Josh Kiszka. Tonight we're gonna be going through some of the most awful current events today of the the times of... LA New York Times.

//

Josh: first story. A homeless man poops on the wall and smears it around with his hand *shows the card he's reading off of* there's nothing on this- and local tourists take pictures with the wall art. More to come on that later. Hehe, more to come- sorry.

//

Josh: next- oh, it's time for a commercial break.

Jake: oh would you look at that. I'm the one reading the adds also as well so let's get into that and read.

Jake: have you ever been on vacation and pissed your pants in a hotel room?

Danny: uh no... D-do people do that?-

Jake: well do I have a good thing for you. Now for 14.99 plus 70 dollars shipping and handling you can have a portable washer dryer for your *gets cut off by really loud washer dryer sounds*

//

Jake: come on down to mother of- *wheeze* come on down to Uncle Jeolberts Licorice Imporium. We've got all different flavours of licorice. Black licorice, yellow licorice, red licorice, toilet bowl licorice, toilet cleanser licorice. "Oh! I dropped my licorice in the toilet! " it's alright. That's the flavour. That's what we're going for, it's fine. Take it out, rinse it off-

//

Josh: welcome back to Eye Witness 69 news. Welcome back to Eye 69 news, I am Cher Bitch!... Cher impression, check. This just in, Taco Bell beans are powder mixed with tap water aaaand even after seeing those videos I will continue to eat Taco Bell beans. The FDA is not approving any of the items on the Taco Belle menu. Will I still to eat them? Yes. *coughing*

//

Josh: uh oh we've got a current alert... Current alert.

Danny: this just in, bombs. So many bombs so many missiles and- oh, library footage now. Going to the live footage of so many bombs and missles coming down every where today so... Watch out for that... We are selling bomb and missles merch out side of the drop locations.

//

Josh: oh and now we cut to the weather. Sam with the weather.

Sam: hello everyone, I am here reporting the weather. Rain, so much rain... And fire. And if you follow this stream here it's the Mississippi River, and through the Mississippi River, a hurricane wiping away all of the cows- that's tornados- all of the tornados are through the valley... And it's on fire! Now back to you.

//

Josh: thank you so much the weather update, Sam on the weather. Next we have: local culinary hot spot, Ma And Pa's kitchen, burned down! Aleena Shay set arson to Ma and Pa's Kitchen. The beloved hole in the wall spot in West Virginia. Really sad about that one. Condolences to Ma and Pa.

//

Josh: and now for more Cher impressions. We're here to go, it's Cher bitch!

*phone rings*

Josh: hello? Yeah... what do you mean no more Cher impressions? They love the Cher impressions. But they love when I do the Cher impressions. Oh so ratings go down when i- hey, ratings don't matter. this is my television channel network. That is enough. Where is my agent? Do news anchors have agents? I need an iced coffee...

//

Josh: and now a local news reporter who is interviewing someone to mimic that scene from Monsters Inc. Let's go to Jake, on sight.

Jake: it picked me up with it's mind powers and shook me like a dog!

//

Jake: IT'S FORD TRUCK MONTH. COME ON DOWN TO TOM THOMPSON'S FORD OVER ON ISLE 95, WE GOT TRUCKS EVERYWHERE, EVERY TRUCK YOU COULD EVER WANT. WE GOT AMERICAN EAGLES, BALD EAGLES, UH... TOPAY EAGLES FLYING EVERWHERE. IT IS ALSO DODGE RAM MONTH. DODGE TRUCK RAM FORD MONTH- EVERYONE'S DRIVING TRUCKS- I'M FROM TEXAS BUT ALSO FROM NEW YORK.

//

Josh: and now the section of the show where we do fall recipes.

Sam: have you ever wanted to make a fall recipe? Well welcome to the show. Sam- cooking with Sam the fall special series with special guest... Sam. *sighs* today's recipe- hold on I gotta read it. Todays recipe is pumpkin hotdogs... To make pumpkin hot dogs, we first must delve into my grandfather being in the Vietnam War. My grandfather served in Vietnam- *cuts forward* okay where getting into the recipe finnaly. We need a hot dog bun, a weenie, relish, mustard, and pumpkin spice. Now that sounds delicious. This was written in by Tammy from Iowa. Iowa is not a real state.

//

Josh: we apologize for the inconvenient interruption for out nightly news broadcast. We are now going to toss over to Danny with the traffic report. Danny? How's it hanging?

Danny: hey everyone, it's Danny with the traffic report. As you can see, very much clogged traffic, so many accidents, oh my god, there goes another one. An accident here, an accident there, an accident everywhere. It's like a dutch poem... Be careful if your going up the 101 98... A... South... East... Because- pfff- boy do I have a story for you. If you are traveling to LA... Stop. Back to you.

//

Josh: thank you Danny... And Tammy... And Tommy and Sue. This has been an excellent Thanksgiving dinner. I really loved the mashed potatoes, they where my favorite. Next on the nightly news: coyotes. Rabid coyotes taking over the city. One by one. Ferrel. Fomaning at the mouth. Screaming. Yelling. Banshees. The elderly are going first. Unless you are vaccinated against rabis you are next for these coyotes to come. They're coming

[chancedarling]

So - he knows. All of these strange powers seemingly transforming or emanating from various people on the island. Seemingly everyone 'gifted' with something or other - maybe gifted was too strong a word. Some of the manifestations had been weird, dangerous or frankly... fucking terrifying. Like something from a movie or comic book. Abilities that shouldn't by possible suddenly made real.

And now - he knows. Chance's own ability seemingly... Subtle. Nothing obvious or apparent. But he thinks he has at least the measure of - what - it is. Though not necessarily what he can actually do with it.

Though this was one hell of a test. He's clocked the creature. Can't quite see what it is, but the sound of large feet in the undergrowth was his first clue. The second was the large shadow flitting close by. If there was any time to be... l u c k y - then this was it. Either he was lucky - or he was dead.

Probability of either outcome - 50-50.

So he's lined up the shadow. And he's moving, slowly but steadily in a straight line - directly away. No sudden movements. No loud noises. Just quiet, steps, as long as his stringy legs would carry him without risk of falling over.

Slow. Step by step by--

'Please tell me you’re not—'

--Chance's head snaps toward the voice, silence broken. Status quo broken. And apparently that's all the creature needed to launch itself forward.

Wow. He never expected it to end like - this. He's hit - heavy, hot (and his brain registers that it's covered in remarkably soft fur... this fucker would make a good rug), a roar of sound as one of those huge paws hits him in the shoulder and the claws sink in deep. Pinning it's prey (oh, hey... that's me...) to the ground.

He vaguely registers the pain. Too much adrenalin. Well hopefully it'll be quick.

But it's not quick. Over the blood rushing in his own ears, he thinks he vaguely hears something. Yelling and clamor. Those claws flexing, sinking a little deeper (yep, he can feel that...).

Another foot hits his chest, driving the air out of him with the weight. And a moment later - a moment.... Felt like... Years... The thing is jumping away, another rend of claws across his chest (not a killing rake though, just using him as leverage to jump)...

It's quiet. Then it's not.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck'

The face of the angry dog comes into view. And if he had the wherewithal to gather himself, Chance might have just punched him in the face. As it is. He gurgles slightly - air leeching back into bruised lungs and sits up.

Shouldn't have done that.

There's blood. His blood. Running down one arm, and blooming in a rather pleasant pattern on the front of his shirt fro two very visible... Very deep sets of claw marks.

Ohhhh... tricky. Of course... He might be lucky, but who's to say what flavour of luck he might find. Good... Or in this case... Bad. Very... Very bad.

One hand moves to his chest - pulling the ruined shirt and he inspects the damage. Looking up, dazed, a little confused... Moderately delirious. The claw marks are clean and straight, but deep.

"I think... I... Is that??? I think I can see... A rib... I'm... I'm not... Supposed to see my own..."

A slightly hacking cough. Followed by a giggle.

"...Rib."

CLOSED STARTER for @chancedarling location: THE FOREST NEAR THE CRUISE SHIP timestamp: 6TH DAY ( I think )

The one time that Adarsh decided to take an alternative route towards the cruise ship’s mooring place, he’d instantly regret it. He’d moved through the dense forest edging the water with the intention to discover more of this place than simply all the places he’d been at before. He didn’t talk much to people, so he had no idea what might be lurking there, but he kept a careful step regardless. He supposed there could be dangerous animals out there, he supposed everyone made sure to practise caution. 

He heard rustling up ahead, and stopped dead in his tracks, only to find a familiar figure appear not much later. The guy who’d given him unsolicited advice, the one he was supposed to avoid however he could. 

Bad choice to go through the forest.

He made a face, as he watched the other continue his movements. Hoping he wouldn’t come near him. 

“Please tell me you’re not—” 

He hadn’t seen nor heard the creature that suddenly shot out from the thick undergrowth; it lept out so quickly that all Adarsh could do was jerk sideways, too late to offer any kind of help.

The creature was bigger than a tiger - he had no idea why he knew that - and black in colour, its skin rippling with the light coming down from the canopy. It growled. 

“Fuck!” 

He acted on instinct, and where that came from, or the knowledge he used, he had no idea, but Adarsh tried to make himself as big as possible and started shouting at the creature with all the pent up rage he could possibly bring to the surface. Which was a lot, and the more he thought about it, the more he fucking hated the tiger-like creature. 

Luckily for him, and for the annoying guy, it worked, and with enough shouting, the creature stopped standing over the other and growling at Adarsh and ran off. 

And he was too worked up over it to question it, instantly running to the other’s side. His heart hitched somewhere in his throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered. 

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE:  Yes this one is super short, too. Sorry! Next one will be better.

Let's skip to a couple days later. Not much else happened other than smarmy grossness. Of course, that still wouldn't be the usual level of pure, grade-A Canadian maple sap given that I was part of the relationship, but it was cute. Lots of takeout and movies, gaming, snuggling. Things that I had to get used to since none of my previous significant others had ever stuck around long enough.

Well… other than Scott.

Maybe that's why he was on my mind so much during that time. Literally the only other long-term relationship I'd had was him, and we were in high school, trying to figure ourselves out as much as we were trying to figure out each other and how to combine those two factors. Opening up those memories was like watching him drive away all over again, but I kept doing it. Had to figure out if there was some weird nugget of truth in there somewhere that could help me figure out how not to fuck everything up with Knives.

Scott and I didn't "date" much. It was definitely a benefriends situation; we were buds who started boinking in the back of my parents' car. So all of our activities were about the same as they had been before; practicing music, hanging out with Lisa Miller. We didn't do much that was coupley other than holding hands and sex. From what I heard, Scott got all those romantic experiences from Natalie after he dropped me like a bad habit.

So why did I keep thinking about him if there wasn't much wisdom to be had? Because I didn't have any other experiences to compare it with.

I'm pretty pathetic. But at least I had someone to call and ask for advice. He might not be the most monogamous person I know, but he is a flaming queer, and has had more success in the dating arena than pretty much anyone else in my extended circle. Maybe using my phone-a-friend lifeline counted as cheating, but when working with such a severe handicap, I figure it all shakes out.

                                                            ~ o ~

"Well, well, well," Wallace Wells half-purred in that voice of his. You know the one. "The redhead."

"That is the colour of my hair, yes," I grumbled.

"Didn't expect to ever hear from you again once Ess Bee Bee and that other thing broke up. See you around in that bump-into-people-you-knew-through-people-in-Honest-Ed's way, sure…"

Gripping my drumstick tighter as I sat on my drumset's seat — the seat of power, a place from which I drew comfort and ability to cope with life — I said, "Same. But I got your number from Stacey, because… I need help."

"'Fraid I'm fresh outta that stuff."

"Help? You're 'out' of help. Really?"

"Yep. The generic kind. But if you elaborate, I might have a specific flavour blend in stock…"

He was definitely going to make me work for this. So I decided to stop being shy and cut through the double-talk and uncertainty. "I'm dating Knives."

The line was quiet for a moment. "That sounds painful. My advice is to buy plenty of bandages for when things get frisky."

"No, Knives Chau. Scott's ex."

"Oh!" he said in a pleasant tone of voice. Even now, I'm not totally sure whether he was trolling me or if he really didn't think I meant her the first time. "She was cute in a Pokémon trainer kind of way. Didn't think you played in the kiddie pool."

"She's in college now, you asshat. But I could use some advice."

"Advice for dating women? Fresh out of that, too."

Gritting my teeth, I said, "Wallace…"

"Alright, alright. So you're edging onto the Rainbow Road and you're afraid of flying off the side. I gotcha. Assuming that's the reason you called me instead of someone else you know…?"

"There's nobody else. Stephen's pretty much the only other person I could call, but he gives terrible advice. Hollie is in Nowhereville with Jason, who knows? And Steph… I just don't know her very well. Or maybe too well. I'm really not sure which."

"That makes me the bartender."

"What?"

"You know, the nameless bartender you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets to in hopes he can give you guidance because you're too blasted to figure out he couldn't care less about your life."

"Fine, nevermind. God, sorry to have bothered you."

But he was chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'm half-kidding; I barely know you and don't care that much, but you're family now. That has to be taken into consideration."

"I'm… family?"

"Gay family. A budding bisexual, right?"

"Y-yeah." I cleared my throat to get rid of that uncertain quaver. "I guess."

"We all start out 'guessing'. It's okay." He let out a long sigh, and there was the sound of something being moved around; he was probably working on something in his apartment, or at his job. Whatever that was. "How long have you two been having playdates?"

"A couple weeks, or whatever," I growled, ignoring the insult.

"How far have you gone?" When I let out a strangled noise, he reassured me, "For informational purposes only. Trust me, I'm not going to get off on two girls doing anything. If there's not at least one dick involved, it's off my curiosity list."

I started to correct him that one was involved, but again I felt that instinct to protect her identity kick in. Maybe I should ask her if she minded me telling people at some point. "Dry-humping. She's kind of… never done it, and I haven't done it with a girl. I swear, if you tell anyb-"

"Lips are sealed. Do you want it to go further?"

"YES! But I mean, only if she's ready."

"Good, that's good. I've had a hesitant date or two. No still means no, and that's more important than all the prep work in the world, but I have a couple ideas that could help get her in the mood."

That one hit me hard. Luckily, I just barely listened to her "no"s when we were drunk as skunks. Nodding as I chewed on my drumstick, I then put it down and said, "That'll help, but I'm actually more worried about… other stuff. Like, how to be in a relationship with a cute, bubbly, fun girl when I'm a vortex of despair."

"Opposites attract. Chances are, she already likes you because you're a vortex of despair. Not usually something people put on their eHarmony profile, though." But apparently, I had him curious. "What other stuff?"

"Dating. I suck at it. Like…" I tried to lower my defenses. "She's so sweet to me, and I feel like I'm just there. Sucking all the fun out of the room. I want her to feel what I feel. Or I guess, to show her that. Something."

"Awww, baby lesbians are so cute. Like puppies."

"Ugh…"

Then he sighed again, a long, floaty sigh of someone toying with someone else. Which would be me. "Alright, never fear — Wallaciraptor is here. Let's help you get rolling…"

                                                            ~ o ~

When Knives walked in the door, I could tell she was caught off-guard by the way her purse fell to the floor instead of being set down. "Kim? I… what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lied as I bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, showing off my bare ass. Just below the apron strings. Yes, I really did the cliché. Yes, it was super uncomfortable for me, since I'm not exactly a flesh-flashing kinda girl. But I thought, hey, it was worth a shot. "Making dinner."

Which was also part of the plan. There were multiple parts; I didn't know which one to try, so I tried everything. One big gesture to try and prove to both Knives and myself that I could be a girlfriend, and not just some drummer chick who acts like she's on the rag all the time.

"Yeah, but you're naked! I mean… almost!"

"You like it? I thought the green apron brought out my eyes." It still came out sounding sarcastic, even though I didn't mean for it to. My voice just sounds that way unless I'm actively suppressing the biting tone, and even then sometimes it bleeds through.

"Um…" Deciding not to comment on my butt, she turned toward the stove. "Smells great! We're having casserole?"

"Yes. And garlic bread. That's not done yet, though. And, um…" I glanced at my coffee table, where there was a cabernet open and "breathing" — Wallace's suggestion. I would have just put a couple of beers down to go with dinner, or at least uncorked the wine right before drinking it.

Knives walked over and touched one of the wine glasses with a finger. I got them from a dollar store specifically for this occasion, since I didn't own any before. Then she picked up the remote for the stereo system, which was pretty conspicuous because it was the only other thing on the table. "What's this do?"

"Hit 'play'," I said as I got out plates.

She did. And quiet, soft, romantic piano music started floating out of the speakers. Also from the dollar store, but I listened to the whole CD before using it to make sure it wasn't too terrible. She laughed… but it was a very specific, actual happy laugh. Not so much at my expense as just surprised at the situation, I guess.

"What is all this?" she asked as she went back over to kick off her work shoes and leave them by the purse. "Like… I thought we were just going to have cup ramen and watch TV."

"Wanted to try something else. Um… y-you'll have to tell me if it's any good. Never tried this recipe before." Hell, I don't think I'd ever cooked anything more complex than a frozen pizza in forever.

Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand in the small of my back. "I'm sure I'll love it." Then she shivered and smiled shyly, withdrawing from the touch. "Not used to touching your skin like that."

"I can change if it's more comfortable for you. This was kind of just… y'know. The 'naked housewife fantasy' bit as a joke. Or maybe not a joke, if you liked it."

"Trying to get me in the mood?" she guessed with a slightly wry smile. When I flushed a little darker, she stopped smiling. "Wait… oh, is this really what that is?"

"Not exactly. But… kind of. I just… wanted to be a good girlfriend, or something like that. I dunno."

The silence was kind of tense. She didn't look angry, just a little confused and contemplating the whole situation. Then she glanced at the oven and back at me.

"How much longer? For the garlic bread."

"About another five. I'll be quick." Clearly, she wanted me in real clothes, which I already had laid out on my dresser. Ready for plan B.

And I was more okay with that than I first expected. Sure, it hurt a little that she didn't know how to feel about me being naked while we ate, but at the same time, neither did I. Just seemed like a weird idea. But Wallace swore it worked like a charm on this one guy he was dating, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No real harm.

Once I was wearing a nice white blouse and a long grey skirt, we got our plates loaded down with casserole and bread and moved things to the table, where we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. She told me about her day, and I told her about mine until the point at which I started getting dinner ready, which I didn't think was interesting — until she started demanding more details with her cute, patient way of doing everything. Incredibly, stories about me buying ingredients and wine glasses was actual entertainment for her.

And somehow, she managed to out-girlfriend me again. Shut up, I know it's not a competition… I know. But even after I drove like a thousand miles outside my comfort zone, hoping to really show her how much I cared and how much she meant to me, Knives was already there and had a jetpack to fly even further. She started doing the dishes as soon as we took our plates to the kitchen, said it was her turn to cook next time when I wasn't expecting it, asked if I had a long day, offered to rub my back when I moved my neck and made the world's tiniest wince… and she gave me the rub, and it felt so good. Told me I looked really cute in the outfit before I could ask. Sweetness and sunshine.

What kind of jerk was she to be so perfect?

                                                            To Be Continued…