#whatever you say I have heard before pooks

[crowinahole]

Was gonna go to a bowling for soup concert with my mum but its age restricted :(

[cvnt4him]

Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn

ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(

Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕

I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽

mha boys x reader.

Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.

Not in order.

Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.

Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.

When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.

Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.

You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.

You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.

"so you and midoriya?"

Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?

"uh.. yeah! We're dating."

You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.

"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"

She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?

"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"

"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."

Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.

"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."

"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."

"what about girl code, dude"

All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.

"fuck all of you."

You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.

The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.

You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.

When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.

He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.

"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."

Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.

You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.

Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.

Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.

"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."

Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.

The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.

He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.

But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.

He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.

You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.

And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.

"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."

Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.

It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.

He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."

Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.

Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.

He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.

Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.

"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."

Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.

He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.

He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.

You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.

He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.

You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.

"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."

AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..

Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????

[i-love-ptv]

Pope and reader taking the boat out and soaking up the sun! Reader is like laying out on the boat while pope steers to find a nice place to anchor! Lots of fluff and love sick individuales maybe some smut thrown in there? Anyways bookie adiós!

All Mine, All Mine ㅤᡣ𐭩

Pairing: Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader

You and Pope on the HMS Pougue! - Fluff, hints at sex at the end ;) (thinking abt making another part for smut??)

Wc: 1,067

An: GUYS. I DID IT. Not the longest, but not the shortest. I hope I did pooks justice 😣😣 Not proofread I fear, I didn’t feel like it..

Feedback always appreciated!! xxx

“Pope, honey, have you seen the bottle opener?”

“Uhh- it’s not in the basket?” Your darling boyfriend asks, briefly glancing back at you while he steers.

You rummage through the basket once more, despite already knowing the answer to Pope’s question.

“It’s not in there, y’know what, it’s fine.” You grab your cold beer bottle and angle the cap into your mouth.

You pop the cap off with your mouth, and Pope looks at you with mock horror.

You meet his eyes and ask, “What?” as you take a swig of the liquid.

“That may just have been one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen you do, babe.” He says as he side-eyes you.

“In a good way or a bad way?” You ask while chuckling, quirking your brow over your sunglasses.

He smiles, showing that boyish charm, “I haven’t really decided yet..” He replies.

“Whatever loser, have we found a spot yet?” You tease, as you look up at the sky.

You glance at Pope, finding that he was already looking at you. It seems that he does that a lot.

“Wellll.. If someone wasn’t always groaning about how the sun is ‘directly’ in her eye, we would’ve already stopped and started eating” Pope sasses, but you know that he didn’t mind. After all, he couldn’t let his woman feel any kind of discomfort, especially when he’s around.

You pout at him, and say, “Well, we only have the Pougie for a ‘lil while, we gotta make this perfect.”

Pope beams at this, “I know baby, I think this spot is good.”

He stops the boat and walks over to you. He lays down next to you, and props his elbow up to lean on it.

You peer up at him, having put your sunglasses on the top of your head

“Grape?” You ask as you grab a few from the container of fruit you brought with you.

Pope inches closer to your fingers until you lightly push the grape into his mouth. He hums in delight.

“I got these ones from a new place this time, they’re good, right?” You exclaim excitedly, referencing the last store you went to to buy grapes, where the grapes were more sour than sweet.

Pope faintly drags out a ‘mhm’ while gazing at you, almost as if he can see through your eyes and into your soul.

“You have the prettiest eyes, y’know that?” Pope says, in almost a daze-like state.

You smirk at his words, “Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that one before..”

You continue, “But I have heard that I have the perfect smile, a strong mind, and an amazingggg personality.”

“Oh shush, ‘s not my fault you’re perfect.” Pope says through a whisper, as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips.

He starts to lean in, and you meet him halfway, letting your lips connect and dance around with one another.

One kiss leads to multiple pecks, which of course, leads to a passionate makeout, as your bodies explore each other as if they’re foreign.

You’re arm flies out, accidentally knocking over your speaker, which quietly plays ‘Call Me By Your Name’ by Sophie Castillo.

You feel Pope’s warm hand brush down your back, and squeeze your ass firmly.

You softly gasp at this, and your hand reaches up to his head, grabbing his backwards hat and placing it on your own head loosely.

Pope grins through your shared kisses.

Abruptly, you hear a familiar ringtone.

Pope breaks the kiss with the groan, shuffling through his pockets to find his phone ringing, notifying him that none other than JJ Maybank is calling him.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to listen to the faint sounds of JJ speaking on the phone.

Pope looks at you with sincerity. He now regrets keeping his ringer on, despite you telling him to keep it off, like how you did with yours, so the two of you could remain uninterrupted.

But Pope being Pope, he kept it on, thinking that he would only be called for any serious emergencies.

“Yes. Yes. JJ, I hear y-“ You assume Pope is cut off by the blonde, for he stops and releases a deep sigh.

“Okay, yes, we’ll bring the boat back John B, relax.” Pope says, as he hangs up the phone, not wanting to hear JJ or John B continue to speak any longer.

Pope looks at you sadly, wishing that you two could remain at peace by yourselves.

“Well, I suppose we should head back before they have our heads.” You say with a twinge of sadness.

Pope kisses your forehead, and squeezes your hand. He starts to try and pack up the leftover remnants of food that was in the basket, before you stop him.

“Baby, don’t worry about it, I got it. Let’s just start going, okay?” You say as you leave a kiss onto his plump lips.

He sighs, “Alright…” And he walks off to the wheel to start the boat back up.

After you finish cleaning up the boat, and collecting any remaining trash, you go up behind Pope. You mean your head on his shoulder and reach around him to lightly scratch at his chest with your nails, just how he likes it.

Pope gasps, since he hasn’t heard you walk up over the motor of the HMS Pouge.

You begin to leave kisses on his neck and behind his ears.

“Babe…” Pope says softly, trying to turn and look at you.

You turn his head straight as you nibble on his earlobe, “Shhh baby, just keep going, okay? Get us home honey, I have something for you for when we get back.” You whisper out against Pope’s ear, making him shiver from the warmth of the contact; this makes you giggle.

As if he’d been starved of your touch for years, Pope, speeds off, making you laugh loudly, and wrap one arm gently around his neck, while the other holds his hat on top of your head.

Pope looks at the sunset, he thinks about how it reminds him of you. He doesn’t necessarily know exactly how at the moment, but he finds it pretty, just like you.

It makes him think about how you have the most pure, and beautiful soul, as if he could see through your eyes and into your soul.

Tagging ppl who commented on my post abt Pope. (If you want me to remove you, just lmk! <3)

Ps. if you’re name is in yellow, it means i couldn’t tag you :(

@v4mp1rr3 @mirellef2001 @loveharlow @nemesyaaa @cerya @ihe4rttwd @inlovewithpandora @cherriespopsicle

[yeahihyperfixtate]

Hi your writing is so cute, I saw you're taking reqs rn...

could I possibly have a neurodivergent (maybe specifically ADHD) reader x whatever characters you'd like (preferably all of them but your choice pook) thanks!!

♡ —sylus x adhd!reader

content : fluff, downbad sylus, mc!reader has adhd depicted from a specific perspective, sylus heavily fw adhd havers <3, (heavily written on my own personal perspective of adhd) maybe a pt.2

authors note : my first req <3, this is actually fantastic cause i've got adhd myself! im not too confident with the others yet, literally all my drafts rn are all sylus based (im ashamed to say im not familiar with zayne and xaviers character enough to write them,,, yet.)

please do not characterise adhd based on specifically these events, this is what i've personally experienced and found easy to write, (not everyone has the same experiences/behaviour!)

♡ — adhd!reader who repeats the same story to her current associate at least twice, blissfully unaware of the repetition, a common occurrence—she just can't help herself.. the result is always the same, her enthusiasm bubbling over—the familiar response comes like clockwork: “you told me this story yesterday, remember?” her words halt mid-sentence, her excitement deflating faster than it had filled her chest. “right, sorry, i forgot,” she mumbles, forcing a small, apologetic smile. they nod briefly before their attention flickers back to whatever was so captivating on their phone, leaving her silent, a sigh falling from her mouth instead of the words she wanted to share still lingering on her tongue, unspoken and heavy, even if it was a reoccurrence.

“sylus, you won't believe what happened to me today!” you exclaimed, bursting through the door with wide eyes and a glowing excitement that filled the room. “t-there was this cat—it meowed like a duck or something, it was so sooo adorable!” you squeaked, your voice pitching higher with enthusiasm. “but then i had to leave from break,” you sighed, pouting as you flopped dramatically onto the couch.

sylus glanced up from the news article he was reading, keyword—was. a sly smile crept onto his lips, usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. “oh, is that right, sweetie?" he teased, tilting his head with a mock-serious look. "you'll have to bring me along on your next mission so i can witness these mystical, duck-like cats for myself."

"deal," you grinned, your face lighting up as you giggled, completely unaware of how sylus's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a quiet admiration.. he'd play along every time, as many times as you needed, his heart melting just a little more with every recount. after all, he wasn't just listening to the story; he was basking in the warmth of your presence, content to play the part of your captivated audience forever.

♡ — adhd!reader who’s grown all too familiar with being ignored by others for most of her life, her excited tangents about a new interest for the day often trailing off into an uncomfortable silence, no response waiting at the end. she used to sit there, the realisation sinking in like a heavy stone—you’ve done it again, idiot—the naturally heard words blaring in her mind as if through a megaphone, shame and self-doubt rushing in like a wave. she’d turn back to her laptop, eyes lowered, the once-comforting cafe ambience now feeling like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it harder to turn back to the task she was supposed to be completing, right, the reports..

sylus, ever the gentleman, makes his way to your side with practised ease, opening the door for you, his hand already outstretched to steady you as you carefully step out, mindful of the hovering dress that threatens to catch under your heels. a soft giggle escapes your lips as you playfully speak, “thank you, kind sir,” your voice light with amusement.

smirking, his eyes sparkling in the dim evening light. “anything for you, my sweet,” he replies with a wink, pulling your hand gently onto his arm. you gladly wrap your arms around his bicep, feeling the warmth of his strength under your fingers as you walk together, leaving the valet behind. the fine dining restaurant ahead glows softly in the night, a place you had casually mentioned to him just two nights ago as a date idea.

“but the duality of this bitch,” you huffed, voice full of frustration. “to talk behind my back like i was in the wrong. like, seriously? you cheat on your boyfriend, and then get mad when i don’t want to be friends with you anymore? oh, and i forgot to tell you—my friend, well ex-friend knew about it, she was hiding it from us the whole time!”

your words spilled out in a rush, the weekly gossip pouring faster than you could control. it wasn’t until you hit a pause in your tangent that it hit you—fuck, i did it again. you looked up at him, bracing yourself, searching his face for any sign of annoyance, for that familiar look people often gave you when you rambled too much. but instead, you found his hand gently stroking your bejewelled one—his gifts, of course—while his crimson eyes stayed locked on yours, soft and full of affection. not a trace of irritation.

just as you were about to apologise for going on too long, he beat you to it, his voice calm and sweet, “you’d think the hunters of linkon would act better. i was sorely mistaken.” his lips curled into a soft chuckle, eyes glinting playfully. “so… what did you say to her and your now ex-friend? you didn't finish.”

relief flooded through you. of course—he wanted to hear more. with his gentle smile urging you on, you dove back into the tale, feeling lighter, knowing you could share whatever you wanted to in this world with him without any thought whatsoever.

♡ — adhd!reader who accidentally interrupts her friends and family—she just can’t help it, really, she can’t. it’s the same scenario every time: friends are mid-conversation, talking about someone or something, and before she can stop herself, she’s chiming in too early, cutting them off without meaning to. they pause, giving that familiar look—half-surprised, half-apologetic or whatever it was. “ah, sorry,” she mutters, biting her lip to stay quiet. but it’s so hard. especially when they start talking about that café she just went to yesterday, mentioning the specific drink that was on sale—the very one you ordered. the words are right there, bubbling up in your chest, why was it so hard to keep quiet?

sylus strolls into the kitchen with a sly grin, “i’ve got a surprise for you tonight, kitten.” his arms wrap around you from behind as you focus on whipping up your favourite brownies—ones in the last batch that went mysteriously missing, thanks to the twins no doubt. you giggle, already used to this affectionate routine, as sylus leans in to inhale the scent of your perfume lingering on his shirt, one of his smaller ones that still manages to engulf you completely. “can I get a clue?” you ask, impressively keeping your attention on measuring the cocoa powder, despite his playful distraction.

“you’ll just have to wait and see sweetie,” sylus chuckles, shifting beside you but keeping an arm snugly around your waist, his warmth never leaving your side. “although i should probably tell you t—” sylus’s words were abruptly cut off by your excitement bursting through. “oooh, wait! is it that new cat café I was talking about a few days ago? the one that opens up at night?”

your excitement quickly deflated as you looked up at him, realizing you’d interrupted him—again. a familiar sinking feeling crept in, but before you could even apologise, you caught sylus’s expression. looking down at you, more love in his eyes than you ever thought possible, his smile soft and full of affection. “that’s actually what i’ve planned for us tomorrow, dear,” he smirked, leaning in closer, his face inches from yours. “but like i said, you’ll find out tonight. just make sure to wear that dress i got you.” your heart fluttered at his words, the warmth of his voice and the way he effortlessly brushed off your little interruption. you giggled softly, leaning into his touch as he gently squeezed your waist. “fine, but I’m holding you to that cat café date,” you teased, already imagining the sweet night ahead.

[whorekneecentral]

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

--

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. 

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers. 

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth. 

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[braxlrose]

smut hdc of nsfw bill, on his birthday, we want to make him feel sooooo good in every way possible. ride, suck him off, whatever he wants, we do. (also, almost got caught by tom and he probably heard but yk tom, he'd laugh or make fun of us later on.)

love ya!! 😘😘😘

OH MY GOD ANON THANK YOU IDK WHO YOU ARE BUT YOU ARE WUNDERBAR AAAAHHH OMG

cw: somnophilia (consented before hand though), oral (m receiving), riding, etc.

So pooks, September 1st rolls around and it's 6 AM

So you gotta get your dumbass ready for bill 😍

Which is why you go take off all your clothes and put on the nicest lingerie you have and freshen up in the bathroom

6:29 AM

Dick sucking time campers

Bill is still sleeping like a little baby in your guy's shared hotel room when you sneak under the covers and pull down his boxers

You first start pumping him to get him hard as he tosses in his sleep

After a minute of pumping you wrap that pretty mouth of your around his tip and begin to bob your head

I can already hear bill moaning in his fucking sleep.

Once you get the courage to deep throat him, he finally wakes up and is super confused when he feels wet lips sucking and slurping on his dick.

Bro doesn't even realize what's happening until he looks under the covers and your just under there 💀

Bucks his hips into your mouth 100%

He loves it when you suck him off so waking up like this is definitely something he enjoys, especially since he's not a morning person

When you're riding him, he's so loud and whiny

It's his birthday 🥺 so he does not give two shits if anybody hears you guys

If he's laying down the whole time, then he's got his hands on your waist and hips to keep you steady, but if he's sitting up while you're riding him, he's got his arms totally wrapped around you and sucking on your nipple, leaving hickies everywhere

ON THAT TOPIC

he loves it and wants you to give him tons of hickies

An extra little present for his birthday to show off what you gave him 😉

He also will absolutely LOVE IT if you leave scratch marks on his back

He loves how it looks in the mirror, and likes the stinging feeling (idk if it's just me but I kinda feel like sub!bill has a bit of a pain kink yk?)

After yall were done you were just laying in bed, you on top of his smothering his face with kisses, still completely naked when tom walked in

You didn't scream or anything, but you jumped and hid until the blanket 💀

Both bill and tom were laughing their asses off

yk cuz they're fucking assholes

A/N: you guys, I've been watching so many tokio hotel interviews and I keep seeing comments saying "I miss the old bill" LIKE WHAT FOR ONE, HES STILL GOT THE SAME PERSONALITY SO EFF OFF, AND FOR TWO, HE LOOKS SUPER SEXY RIGHT NOW SO IDK WHAT YALL ARE ON

also I hate the grimace shake trend. grimace just wanted to celebrate his birthday and yall ruined it ☹️

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @dead-tapes

[busycloudy]

if u write only for twst can yew do Floyd leech and and and uhhh errmmmm uhhhh guy reader mc idc whose scenemo and floyd discovers they have shared tastes and mc/reader gives him make over 😣

IF UR POTENTIALLY OPEN TO OTHER FANDOMZ.. STARTZ TREMBLING AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH.. TARTAGLIA...

okay thanks ily pooks

thx for requesting!!! I will be actually joining new fandoms real soon and hopefully writing for them, so this will probs be my last time writing for twst atm :3 n e wayz, I hope you enjoy this!

A fluff fic

The reader is MC and goes by he/him pronouns.

This can be read in both a platonic and romantic way!

Floyd may be ooc due to the fact I haven't played twst in MONTHS + This will include hcs

You were making some kandi bracelets again since you didn't really have much else to do and also wanted to add more to your collection (you already had like 37 but shhh) until you heard your door creak, causing you to look up to a tall, smiley, blue haired figure, which was Floyd of course!

"Heya shrimpy, watcha making there~" He asked with curiosity in his eyes.

"Nothin much, just making bracelets" You responded as you tied the string together to finish this piece off.

"Ohhhh...I think I tried that before but got bored cuz the beads kept falling off" Floyd sighed, "But I like to make shirts!" Floyd excitedly claimed. "Really?? Me too!" You smiled. "We should bleach some shirts together sometime!" You requested. Floyd put a finger on his chin, pondering. "Mehhh...maybe...OR we could right now" He instead offered, to which you had to accept, hell maybe you could even give him a full makeover!

You got the black shirts, cardboard, and bleach out and began working. The two of you finished after about 15-20 minutes and adored the results. Floyd went with a skeleton type pattern and ended up cutting the sleeves off his shirt, and you'd gone with a spine with wings, but in all honesty you just went with whatever came to your head as you'd done so.

You two complemented each other's shirts and such and then you offered the idea you came up with earlier. "Floyd, what if I gave you some clothes to style with that shirt? I have some stuff that I got in a size too big so I haven't worn it yet, and I could get you some shoes" You suggested. "Shrimpy, giving me a makeover?hmmmm...sureee, but only if I can give you one too!" He said, and you nodded your head.

---

You handed Floyd your eyeliner, eyeshadow, brushes, etc and let him create away, and you discovered he was actually good at doing makeup and such.

Your makeup:

(you may imagine wtv you'd prefer tho!)

Floyd's outfit:( I couldn't find a good png and was DEF not drawing this cuz I can't 💔) FLIP I FORGOT THE KANDI. But anyways his stuff would say stuff like eel rave and sea slugs etc

Floyd entered his dorm happy with the new outfit he now has. "Ah, hello Floyd. Where has this outfit come from?" Jade came out of nowhere, asking. "I bleached this shirt, but Shrimpy gave me this other stuff! Isn't he soooo cool!" Floyd giggled. "I do rather like it...maybe I ought to see what he could do for me too..." Jade pondered

[lil-elle]

idea from loml @chiiyuuvv !! (Sorry it took so long to get to this pookie)

Truth or Dare

group: xikers

pair: seeun x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crushes, shyness, best friends to lovers (yknow me 🥰)

word count: 3.2k

content: drinking, kisses ‼️

a/n: TYSM POOKS FOR THIS AWESOME IDEA IM GIGGLING SM

Seeun dragged you by your wrist through the front door as you rolled your eyes. 

“C'mon, you'll have fun!” He insisted, but you just weren't the type to enjoy parties, you only ever went because he loved them and you were such a sucker for that wide, gummy smile of his.

You followed behind him like a small obedient dog as he chatted with his friends, people you'd never even seen before. You felt silly following him like this and almost hiding behind the broadness of his back, but you were much too afraid of straying off on your own in a house full of strangers.

You were busy zoned out, counting the tiles on the floor, when Seeun pressed something cold to your cheek: a beer can. You quickly took it from him and analysed the label.

“Woah, I didn't know you actually drank at these things.” You mumbled, spinning the can around in your hand.

“What, do you think we just sit in a circle holding hands or something??” He chuckled teasingly, making your face flare up in embarrassment.

“Of course not!” You quickly defended, popping the can open.

“Have you ever even drank before?” He smirked, cracking his own can open and taking a swig like he did this everyday.

“Pffft, h-have I- pshhhh- o-of course I have.” You waved your hand at him dismissively, avoiding his eyes despite the fact you were certain he could see through your lie. Without another thought, you lifted the icy can to your lips and took a sip, your face screwing up at the sour taste of the alcohol on your tongue. You swallowed after some struggle and smiled at him crookedly.

“See? Easy..”

He chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before grasping your hand and pulling you with him.

“Where are we going?” He looked back at you with a smile as he pulled you through the house into a bedroom where most of the friends of his you recognised from earlier in the night were gathered.

“I said we don't sit in a circle holding hands, but we do sit in a circle and play truth or dare!” He tugged you so you were sitting next to him in the circle, the sudden multitude of eyes on you making you shrink back and you timidly took another strained swig from your can.

One of his friends suddenly started speaking to the rest of the group in a confident voice.

“Okay, classic truth or dare, house rules: when someone asks you truth or dare, you pick one, and you do whatever they say. If you refuse, we get to all like- uh- point and laugh at you or something. Got it?” 

The group nodded their heads and began chattering quietly before he spoke up again.

“Okay who's going first?” Seeun's hand shot up before he even finished speaking and a few faces around the room chuckled at his enthusiasm. You felt a smile creep onto your face as well, charmed by how much he seemed to be enjoying himself. That was until he slowly turned to you with a smirk on his face. “Oh this motherfu-”

“Y/n! Truth or dare?” You gritted your teeth, making your disdain for him obvious on your face, and spoke up with the most confident voice you could muster.

“...Truth.”

“Lame!” Someone called out, followed by a few chuckles, but you kept your eyes on Seeun and ignored the embarrassed heat crawling up your neck.

“Hmmm…What do you really think of the beer?”

Your eye twitched and you promised yourself that you'd beat up this nutrient deficient string bean as soon as you got him alone next.

“....It sucks. Like it tastes like piss genuinely. But…it kinda makes being here easier, so…” You lifted the can and took this biggest gulp you could, Seeun smiling as you sighed with a twinge of regret for doing that.

“Preach!” You heard someone from across the room yell, making you smile shyly.

“Your turn now, shorty.” Seeun ruffled your hair and you swiped his hand away before scanning the room and quickly realising you had no idea who to pick, not knowing any of the people sitting around you apart from Seeun. Your eyes bounced from person to person, inevitably being drawn to the confident boy that introduced the game. You pointed a shaky finger at him.

“T-Truth or dare?”

He chuckled and set his own drink down before leaning back on his hands.

“Dare.” He said the word without hesitation and you panicked again as you wracked your brain for a dare to give that wouldn't make you sound lame (again). You nervously swirled your drink in your hand, just that action giving you an idea.

“...I-I dare you…to chug the rest of your drink right now.” You felt slightly proud as his eyebrows raised and his lip quirked up in a smirk. He sat back up straight before lifting the can to his mouth and throwing the rest of it back with a few hard bobs of his adams apple and various cheers and playful yells from the group. His eyes met yours again as he dropped his can, crushing it in his hand before tossing it behind him in a dramatic display. You quickly looked away, overwhelmed by the eye contact, and your eyes met Seeun's face, eyebrows tight in a frown and eyes almost boring holes into the boy you just dared. You lifted your hand to tap him on the shoulder, your attention being stolen away by the continuation of the game before you could make contact.

You continued nursing your beer as the game went on, Seeun nudging your shoulder to make jokes into your ear every-so-often. You couldn't tell if it was the buzz of the alcohol or Seeun's light-hearted presence making you feel so comfortable, but you were starting to enjoy yourself, laughing and chatting with the group like you belonged there as much as they did. That was until the attention was flipped back onto you and Seeun for the first time in a good 10 minutes.

“Seeun,” the boy started, “truth or dare?” 

Seeun leaned forward playfully.

“Dare.” 

The boy smiled and finished off his drink, crushing the can, before continuing.

“So…we've all noticed how close the two of you are,” he pointed, finger moving between you and Seeun, “don't think we haven't.” 

Your face flushed red and you shrunk back slightly before you felt Seeun's large hand rest on your back reassuringly.

“...And what about it?” Seeun responded with a confident tone, earning a multitude of teasing coos from around the room which only made you blush harder.

“Well!” He clapped his hands together as he continued. “Your dare…is to give her your phone…and let her go through it.” 

Your eyes snapped up to Seeun's face upon hearing those words, expecting Seeun to pull his phone out of his pocket without hesitation, only to watch as the colour drained from his face for the first time that night. A few seconds passed, then a minute, as Seeun's hands lay frozen at his sides.

“So…you're not gonna do it? This is the dare that's gonna break you?” The boy teased as a few other people chuckled. Seeun took a deep breath in before seeming to snap back into his usual confident persona.

“Of course not.” He smiled, grabbing his phone from his pocket and almost tossing it to you. Your eyes stayed glued on his face, frowning at the way he was almost refusing to make eye contact with you. You couldn't help but feel how wrong this whole situation was, feel how not like himself Seeun was acting. You clutched the phone to your chest in an attempt to push down your nervousness before putting on your best smirk and speaking up in a stutter.

“I-I think I'll look through it later…when me and Seeun are…alone…” 

You slipped the phone into your pocket and sighed with relief on the inside when you heard the teasing comments from the group, although embarrassing, reassured you that they hadn't caught onto your act. You caught Seeun glancing at you, a very small amount of blush on his face before the both of you turned away in unison, earning more cooing and teasing.

The night went on as usual and the group was beginning to get more rowdy and tipsy, you and Seeun included as you somehow managed to get down a whole beer and start on another one. 

By the time the two of you left the house you were giggling to each other about nothing in particular and just yapping about random things as he walked you home. The cold night air was refreshing on your flushed cheeks and the short walk to your house passed by in a flash. Eventually, you were pulling your front door open and attempting to pull him inside with you, insisting that you “had to have a sleepover with your bestie”.

He easily slipped out of your grasp and stepped back, chuckling.

“I have to go home,” he poked you lightly on the forehead, “and you need rest.” You pouted and leaned dramatically against the door frame.

“But but but- are you even sober enough to get home?” You questioned, just trying to find any excuse to get him to stay longer. He chuckled again and you were too hazy to notice the redness in his ears.

“I'm fine.” He smiled and you couldn't deny that he had a much better alcohol tolerance than you.

“Okayyy…,” you sighed, lifting your hand weakly to wave, “bye bye…”

The last thing you saw was his crooked smile as you shut the door, luckily remembering to lock it in your dizzy state, before scrambling to your bedroom and flopping onto the bed. As soon as your face hit the softness of your pillow, you were out like a light, shoes on and everything, but that wasn't something you cared about as you drifted into a dream filled sleep.

You were suddenly pulled from your sleep by an obnoxious alarm coming from the phone in your pocket, yanking it out in your half asleep state and slamming your finger on snooze before tossing the phone next to you and rolling over. It took you a few seconds, but you suddenly registered that… “Wait, I don't set alarms.”

You sat up, blinking against the sun shining ruthlessly into your window, curtains wide open and failing to protect you. You grasped the phone and pulled it up to your sleepy face, turning it around in your hands for a few moments before the memory of the dare crashed back into your head. 

“Oh.” You tapped on the screen and analysed the pic on his lockscreen: what seemed to be him and one of his friends you recognised last night posing together and making silly faces, both of them with drinks in their hands. You smiled to yourself and instinctively swiped up to unlock the phone, quickly met with the realisation that he has a password because why wouldn't he?? You thought for a moment before chuckling to yourself and jokingly typing in your own name, the click of the phone unlocking stopping you dead in your tracks. You sat up straight, looking down at the phone with a serious and slightly confused expression before you finally processed what his home screen was…it was a picture of you. A candid photo of you laughing taken most likely by him when you weren't paying attention. A photo that you didn't even know existed. Your heart suddenly sped up and you felt a small amount of heat enter your cheeks but you took a breath in and reassured yourself that it was normal for someone to have a picture of their best friend as their phone background.

You timidly swiped again, bringing up all the apps he had open and giggled, quickly realising why he always complained about his phone dying really fast. You scrolled mindlessly through the multitude of random apps before a text conversation with Hyunwoo, a mutual friend of the two of you, caught your eye. Quickly tapping on it and bringing it up, your heart started to pound at the idea of going through his private messages and you felt slightly guilty, especially because you were defeating the whole purpose of the reason you kept it with you. Despite your guilty feelings, your finger scrolled up like it had a mind of his own, all the way up to the beginning of the conversation Seeun had with Hyunwoo right before the party yesterday:

H: So do you have a plan?

S: Uhhhh. 

S: No.

H: Dumbass

S: STFU!?? IM TRYING MY BEST?!?!

H: Alright well keep trying ‘your best’

H: Meanwhile she's gonna go and fall for someone else before you can even confess

You blinked frantically like you couldn't believe your eyes. Confess?? Like, confess confess?? You started scrolling faster, eyes scanning over every word at twice the speed.

S: You're harsh man

H: If I wasn't you wouldn't even be considering confessing now would you

S: …

H: Yeah okay

H: Did you at least invite her to that party?

S: Yeah

S: I'm on the way to her's now to pick her up

H: This is the perfect opportunity! Confess tonight!

S: CRAZY

H: Just try man

H: For my sanity

S: 💀

S: No promises

Your eyes stayed stuck on those last two words as the gears in your head went into overdrive, your whole face burning red at the thought of Seeun having a crush on you. Even more so at the thought that there was a chance of him confessing last night and you had no idea. You quickly found yourself with your nose buried in his phone, scrolling through all of his messages without remorse, too busy dazed and confused over the situation you're in to feel guilt.

It didn't take you long to find your own messages with him, feeling a pang in your chest at the hearts he had put around your contact name.

The more you searched, the more you found, and the more real it all felt. A folder in his gallery dedicated to pictures of you. Instagram open specifically on your profile. A stupid buzzfeed article on different ways to ask out a crush that was clearly directed towards 14 year olds. All those symptoms pointed to one diagnosis of a boy in incredibly deep (and only a little bit pathetic) unrequited love. With you. Except that love wasn't actually so unrequited.

Your head was spinning trying to process everything happening when a sudden bang on your window made you almost fling the phone across the room. You lifted your head only to meet eyes with the exact man making your mind all jumbled up standing outside your window. Your blush only got worse upon seeing him in that plain but charming grey hoodie of his and you were certain there was no way you were hiding your feelings from him now.

Carefully, you lifted yourself from the bed and circled around it to the window, sliding it open and being met with the cold and fresh morning air.

“I'm glad you're awake.” He started with a smile, already making you melt with just 4 words. “Sorry for the startle,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “there was no way I could knock on your door without waking your parents so I had to improvise.” He stared at you for a moment as you stayed silent before his gaze fell to his phone caught in your death grip. He sighed and a look of relief covered his face as he leaned against the window frame.

“Thank God you have it. I remembered giving it to you but I can barely trust this brain of mine when it's not under the influence, y’know?” He joked but something seemed off about his demeanour, like he was nervous or hiding something, just like how he was acting before handing you his phone last night. Although, now you know why. 

His eyes travelled back up to yours as he spoke.

“You okay?” 

You felt your face only heat up more, a change he obviously noticed as he finally began slipping from his denial and started realising what you must've seen. A pink hue entered his cheeks and he spoke up again with a noticeably shakier voice.

“H-how much…did you see…?”

You finally found your own voice to respond to him.

“...Hyunwoo…he…was helping you…” Before you could even finish, Seeun folded his arms on the windowsill and buried his face in them.

“Fuck…” He mumbled, his soft hair falling over his now bright hot ears.

“A-and your wallpaper…a-and my name in your contacts…a-and your gallery-” You suddenly started spilling to him everything you'd seen, watching breathlessly as he sunk further into the plushness of his hoodie sleeves. He sighed again and lifted his head, the state of his face and the splotchy redness that covered it making your heart pound.

“Well whatever…” he mumbled before pulling himself through the window, forcing you backwards to make space for him. Once he was in he steadied himself before leaning back against the window frame awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with you the whole time. 

“Y/n.” The suddenness of his voice made your breath catch and you looked up at him, clutching the phone to your chest.

“I really like you…will you be my girlfriend?” He continued avoiding your eyes and spoke in a flat voice. It felt less like he was confessing and more like he was admitting and accepting defeat. Your fingers tightened around his phone and you mustered every ounce of courage you had to speak up in a tiny voice.

“...yes…” His eyes widened instantly, making you feel a strange sense of excitement and pride.

“Did…you just-” He finally turned to you and met your eyes, his red cheeks somehow growing redder. 

“-say yes…?”

You could barely hold back your excitement as you nodded, smiling and watching as his expression twisted from confusion to shock to disbelief to pure joy. You almost dropped the phone as he scooped you up into his arms, giggling so happily with an expression of such unfiltered happiness you'd never seen on him before. He spun you around a few times as the two of you giggled together before he finally settled down and hugged you close to him.

“...You mean it?” He asked in a quiet voice with a slight tinge of disbelief still present.

“Seeun…can I be your girlfrie-” your words were cut off as his lips suddenly pressed to yours. You were almost convinced your heart would explode in your chest as he kissed you in a way that felt like it would never end. He pulled away just enough but still keeping his lips only a few inches from yours, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Sorry…” he muttered with a smile telling you he wasn't really sorry at all. But you didn't care, not one bit, as a hysterical fit of giggles burst from your throat.

Thank God he forced you to that party.

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@chocoeon @hyunukitty @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv @shortnstupid @dogyunslover

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner. 

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode. 

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time. 

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises. 

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark. 

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world. 

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right? 

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me. 

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life." 

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does. 

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed. 

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance. 

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans. 

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force. 

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are. 

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin. 

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips. 

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile. 

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him. 

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way. 

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically. 

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O 

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

[g00se69]

Hello Tumblr!, it is I, the one called "goose"

I tried drawing myself in a scene style on the side lol, it don't lookin too good

From up to down on the left side:

"goose"(me), female(me), she/her or they/them(me), can't see too far without glasses(me).

From up to down on the right side:

Big fore head (me), he don't have Tumblr >:3 <333 (my significant other :33), friggin weirdo has one elf lookin ear(me), average hight(me).

First things first, I'm a friggin MINOR!!

But I don't feel comfortable actually saying my age on here, yk, theres, there are creeps online lots of the time 🤮

And also, before we go any further. literally never believe me when I say I'm going to post on a specific day because I absolutely will not and will probably take at least a month or week for me to actually post the thing I was gonna post 💀💀

DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME:

PEDO'S, TERFS (I finally realized what that meant after searching it up, What The Hell.)

My ask blog for my au is called @wrong-villain-au

The only stuff on that blog will just be asks to the characters for my au

The tags are #wrong villain eddsworld au if you want to look at the au art, I also explain the au on the au blog

Can't believe I actually got my own unique tag! 😺

Pooks, I don't wanna apologize for every little cuss word I do, so I'm just gonna put it here:

I DO CUSS A LITTLE >:33 (it's not like I say slurs or anything, don't worry dudez, I just cuss like a normal angsty teen lol)

These are my irl friends but on here obvi, lol:

@dofus117 (he's new 2 Tumblr so b nice), @marieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (she's been on Tumblr for about a year already! I even reblogged it lol), @pink-bats-blog (this is my friend @pinkflowersparkle, new account 😼🫶)

They are all amazing artists

GO FOLLOW THEM NOW 👹

Urm, I'm pansexual 🩷💛💙

(NO, THAT DOESN'T MEAN IM ATTRACTED TO PANS AND OTHER KITCHENWARE 😭, pooks, It just means I have "a lot more options in life!"). (- tomska, from that one video where he was taking sexuality tests for funsies, and hoping the tests would say he was bi lol)

THIS IS A SAFE SPACE HERE DUDES! LOVE WHOEVER! (Unless it's children.. 😶 then get the hell out of my blog, ya sicko, ever heard of "to catch a predator" by icp?... 😊) Identify as whatever! THERIANS AND OTHERKIN ARE WELCOME HERE AS WELL! 🫶 YALLS ARE WITERALLY SO COOLIO

I was born a girl, and I identify as a girl :P

I kinda like more "masculine fashion" though, THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DONT LIEK GIRLS FASHION THOUGH!! I like both "both is good"

I love wearing darker colors, and kinda vibe with scene and alt culture

All aesthetic culture is Coolio though! 🫶

CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAD, DO WHAT YOU WANT UNLESS IT ISNT HURTING ANYONE, INCLUDING YOURSELF! 🫶 (my bad when I'm usually a hypocrite and call myself cringe, I just don't think people should be calling other people cringe like as an insult, yk?)

My opinion on Eddsworld shipping: honestly, at this point Eddsworld fanart is usually au's and shipping, do whatever ya want people! "Rare pairs" too!, as long as it isn't pedophilia, or self shipping (I mean like the character x the same character), even people self shipping themselves with the characters!! (yet again, as long as it isn't a kid they are self shipping with)

Personal faves are:

baconcola (tordedd) and Tommatt (I don't know a name for their ship 😭)

YouTubers I watch (hyper fixating on most of these currently): Tomska <33, jschlatt (or as I say, jschlart), FLAMINGO (Albertstuff??, what's that? :), Rotten mango, sushimushi, Markiplier, Ethan Nestor, Penguinz0, The Tomee Bear, CoreyXKenshin, Brandon Rogers, FunkyFrogbait, Layze, Tordparker 2.0

Fandom/Fandoms I'm hyperfixating on currently:

EDDSWORLD

you can just stop here if you want, it's just more of me rambling about the stuff I like/ stuff I watch

:/

STUFF I WATCH:

Anime I have seen and liked (not hyper fixating on currently: Chainsaw man, hells paradise, jjk, Dandadan, Delicious in dungeon (or dungeon meshi), Cells at work, komi can't communicate, Aggretsuko,

Indie shows i have seen and liked (not hyper fixating on currently: Bridge kids, Don't hug me I'm scared (or dhmis), Pony.mov

Analog horror shows i have seen and liked (not hyper fixating on currently): Walten Files, Mandela catalog, The man in the suit, Dog nightmares,

"kids shows" I have seen and liked because they are actually good (not hyper fixating on currently): Gravity falls, invader Zim, Pucca, Adventure time, Villainous, Rise of The Teenage mutant ninja turtles (or rottmnt for short)

Adult shows i have watched and liked (not hyper fixating on currently): Helluva boss, hazbin hotel, south park; (I have seen every episode and special and am currently trying to finish watching the "banned" episodes), smiling friends, Beavis and Butt-Head, panty and stocking, The Boondocks; (I've only seen a couple episodes so far, but I rly like it), Aqua Teen hunger force

Games I haven't played, but have seen people play and rly like/have played and rly liked (not hyper fixating on currently): Regretevator (I have played this a lot with friends), FNAF; (I've played FNAF one, sister location, and security breach), Minecraft; (nothing could make me hate the actual game), DOOM ETERNAL; (my friend likes the game and I thought it was cool because of the stuff he told me, and the cool designs of stuff I seen for the game, I'll probably watch Markiplier play it), Warhammer; (same as DOOM, my friend told me Abt it, I looked at some stuff about it and thought it was pretty cool from the art I seen), Mouthwashing; ( I seen Manlybadasshero play it and thought the storyline was pretty good, and the art from the fandom literally looks so good istg, ik this is kinda based, but Anya and curly (after the crash) are my fav characters cus of design only), Day shift at Freddys;or Dsaf (I watched geese play it and thought it was funny lol, I kin Dave, and he my fave character, the phonies are my fave designs), Dandy's world; ( I've played it a lot with friends, but the only character I've bought do far has been Tisha lol), Lollipop chainsaw; ( I think it's really cool <33, I've seen gameplay of it)

movies that I have seen and liked that I can currently remember (I usually forget) : South Park; bigger; longer and uncut, Deadpool (all 3 movies), Deadpool and wolverine, Venom (all movies, including the newest one), The Eddsworld fan movie, jjk 0, nightmare before Christmas, invader Zim: enter the florpus

YouTubers I watch (hyper fixating on most of these currently): Tomska <33, jschlatt (or as I say, jschlart), FLAMINGO (Albertstuff??, what's that? :), Rotten mango, sushimushi, Markiplier, Ethan Nestor, Penguinz0, The Tomee Bear, CoreyXKenshin, Brandon Rogers, FunkyFrogbait, Layze, Tordparker 2.0

I'll probably add more YouTubers later, I'm too tired rn, I've been working on this post for hours it's literally 4 in the morning rn.

Yes, I did add this one twice, ik most of you probably wouldn't go this far :/

If you did come this far

Dammnnn dude! Wowsers :0

Imma go eep now finally, it's literally 4:12 in the morning rn where I am

[btsqualityy]

Shay, may we see a insecure Kinsley in high school and Mason trying his damnedest to reassure her that’s she’s the only one for him since he is mr. popular?

Another anon also said: We’re getting down to the wire! Can we see Mason blasting his dads song ‘TRIVIA: LOVE’ outside of Kinsley window after they argued and Kinsley melting. Thank you Shay!

They’re both 18 in this

“Kins!” Kinsley looked up from her locker, smiling when she saw Mason rushing down the hallway to her. 

“Hey you,” she grinned, waiting until he was standing in front of her to press a firm kiss to his lips. “What’s up?”

“What do you think about going to Jungha’s party this weekend?” Mason asked her. 

“You mean the big one?” She wondered and he nodded his head. “I’m not against it but the guest list is exclusive, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Yuna’s gonna get us in.”

“Kim Yuna?” Kinsley deadpanned. “The one that wouldn’t stop flirting with you even though you told her that you had a girlfriend when the two of you worked o that project together?”

“Yeah, that one,” he confirmed. “She caught me in the library and said that she could get me in. I asked if I could bring someone and she said sure.”

“Are you an idiot or just blind?” Kinsley huffed. “She likes you.”

“But that doesn’t matter because I like you, love you even,” Mason told her. “I have eyes for no one else.”

“But people have eyes for you,” she huffed as she shut her locker before looking at him again. “Look, if you want to go, then go. I’ll be at home so do whatever you want.” Before Mason could say anything, Kinsley turned around and walked off down the hallway, leaving him dumbfounded.

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

That Saturday night, Kinsley found herself at home alone. Her parents were out for the night, Kamryn was staying the night at Aria’s and Pooks was with their godmother for the weekend. She figured that Mason was at that stupid party, but she had no way of knowing for sure because she hadn’t talked to him much since that day in the hallway. She knew it was petty and childish of her but she couldn’t help but to be irritated at how flippant he seemed to be about her obvious insecurities.

As she grabbed her phone to order some takeout, her phone lit up and ‘Myungie’ popped up on the screen. She debated for a few seconds about not answering, but she decided that she had been childish enough and answered it anyways. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you busy?” Mason asked her. 

“I’m just sitting at home,” she replied. “Aren’t you at the party?”

“Why don’t you come open your front door and find out for yourself?” He suggested and suddenly, she heard music playing from outside. Jumping up, she jogged to the front door and pulled it open, gasping at what she saw. Mason was standing there, a speaker on the ground next to him and his phone still in his hand as “Trivia: Love” played loudly. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” She shouted over the music and he walked over until he was standing right in front of her. 

“I’m showing you that you are everything to me,” he replied seriously. “No party, no other woman, is worth you being upset with me. I forget how me being so open with people can make you feel sometimes and I’m sorry for not realizing it when I talked to you about Yuna inviting me. I need you to know though, that even though we’re young, I live to love you. You’re my world, Min Jae Hwa, and I’m so sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t.”

“Mase,” Kinsley grinned, rushing to him and throwing her arms around his neck as she kissed him passionately. Mason wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up and holding her close to him. 

“Do you forgive me?” He whispered against her lips and she pulled away to look at him. 

“Why don’t you come inside so that I can show you?” She offered, giggling when Mason ran into the house, kicking the door shut with his foot.

[cerealyoam]

HIII i am missing venti rn ;-; can i request venti taking care of his sick s/o? and the s/o is rlly whiny and pushes him away and he's just like 'Oh My God JUST TAKE THE MEDICINE!!!!' also i rlly love ur blog... there isn't a lot of blogs that r gender neutral and ur writing gives me immense comfort

I LOVE THIS OMG 😭😭 And thank you!!! You're super sweet 💘💘💘💘💘

•

•

Venti (Barbatos) Taking Care of a Stubborn, Sick!Reader ☆

Your nose itched.

God it was so itchy.

As you reached up to scratch, you hear

"AHCHOO-"

"Gaahhh!!!" Venti yelped, jumping back. "Please don't sneeze on me!"

You laugh half-heartedly, with your sore voice, while venti stood there, gaining his composure.

"Y/N, at some point, you're going to have to take your medicine. And let me baby you. Just once?"

"Nooo," you whined in your navelly voice. You sniffed again, turning to your side – away from venti – and huffed. "I'll be better in a week."

Venti sighs, frustrated because goddamnit he just wanted to take care of you! You've been rejecting his care for 2 days now, and you seem nowhere near getting better.

"Y/N..." he said sweetly, hand reaching out to rub at your shoulder. "My lovely honey bunch?"

"No."

Oh boy, now he's upset.

"Fine! I'll check on you tomorrow and you'd better have gotten better or I'll shove this medicine down your throat myself!"

He places the medicine by your bed and stomps away, before turning the corner to pook at you again. "Theres some warm Black Back Perch stew ready to eat. It should stay warm for about an hour and i better see it finished tomorrow. Your health is important and if you refuse to take your medicine you better at least take care of yourself!"

You groan into your blanket. The bed feels so warm.

"I'm not sure I heard you, honey bunch," his arms are crossed now. Please respond to him.

"Okayyyyy..." you finally answer.

Instantly, Venti relaxes and you see him smile from the corner of your eye. "I love you."

"Love you too."

☆☆☆

The sound of birds chirping outside wakes you, and you realize you had completely passed out after Venti left. What a night.

You try to get up, hand pushing you forward and suddenly your entire body feels like its too dead to move. You lay back down.

Jingling rings in your ears and you remember Venti - he's here to check on you again. Ah, he was so sweet but you were too stubborn. You loved him so and couldn't wait for his pouty face when you did not want to eat that sexy disgusting medicine. If you were gonna get better, it was on your own.

And then you hear stomping.

The door flushes open and you see your unusually grumpy boyfriend storm through the door.

You say something to ask him.how he is and i avidly cuts you off, grabbing you by your waist and hoisting you up to sit.

"Venti-"

He rushes out of the room and you blink before seeing he has a tray in his hands with hot soup in a bowl. Oh god, you forgot about the soup.

Before you can protest, the tray is on your lap and he stares right at you. "I have breakfast for you," he says, in a lovingly stubborn, upset way.

You hadn't eaten since the night before, and you couldn't find it in yourself to refuse. You huffed and ate some of the stew. It was surprisingly good.

"I can't believe you managed to cook something," you giggle.

The air softens and Venti is laughing beside you, and he leans his head on your shoulder, scooting closer to you. "Guess I'm too in love to notice the other three times i burned it yesterday."

You both laugh as you enjoy your meal. He tells you about his day, and you do yours (whatever it was you did say didnt really matter, Venti listened anyway) and all felt okay.

You move your tray to the side and finally slump backward, head resting on the headboard. Delicious.

You close your eyes and feel something lay on your lap. Straightening up to see, you realized - a bottle of flu medicine on your lap, and Venti sitting up, looking at you.

"Venti, I-"

"Take your medicine or I'm not visiting you for a WEEK."

You took your medicine, however disgusting it tasted. "Ew."

Venti wheezes and laughs again, grabbing your legs and pulling - you falling back on your pillows. Venti readjusts himself and lies on top of you, head rested on your shoulder. "Thank you, honey."

Maybe if he kept this up, you'd take your medicine more often.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

“Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!” for Sprace? 😇

Truth be told, I didn’t really know where I was going with this prompt then this happened. Sometimes the characters have a mind of their own and it turns really cute and fluffy. This is pure fluff for Sprace! 

Getting out of bed as quiet as he could, Stop stood at the side of the bed stretching, admiring the view of his husband snoring softly in the bed. Shaking his head at Race, Spot walked to the bathroom, grabbing a few things along the way before shutting the door and taking a shower. 

Opening the bathroom door, he chuckled watching the steam billow out, using his towel to wipe off the mirror before starting his morning routine. He heard the familiar jingle of a collar before watching, in the mirror, their Miniature Goldendoodle, Lucky, wander into the room. She sat at the foot of the bed, looking between the bed and where Spot stood before lumbering over to him. 

“Morning, Luck.” He crouched down, giving her some pats and rubs before standing up and continuing with his routine. “Stay off the bed, girl. Let dad sleep some more.” 

He finished up, clicking his fingers softly before heading out the door and walking downstairs. He heard Lucky lumbering behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. Flipping on the coffee pot, he turned on the TV, looking for anything but the news to watch. He settled on the sports highlights from the night before as Lucky jumped up on the couch beside him. 

He always loved mornings. Usually, it was a quiet time for him to think, plan out the day, or just catch up on some reading. He usually finishes a cup of coffee before Race gets out of bed. Fixing his cup of coffee, he settled down on the couch, the warmth of Lucky pressed against his side keeping him warm. 

As he drained his cup, he could hear the creek of the floor upstairs signaling Race was up. Pushing himself off the couch, he walked to the kitchen, fixing himself a second cup and Race his first. As he heard the footfalls on the steps, he picked up the mugs heading back to the living room. He had to bite back a chuckle as he got his first glance at Race, who’s hair was sticking up in all directions from his well rested night. 

“Morning.” Spot gave him his mug, settling back on the couch next to Lucky. “How did you sleep?” 

Grunting, Race shrugged, breathing in the delicious smell of his coffee before taking a sip. This was his typical response and it never failed to make Spot grin at his husband. 

After a couple more sips of his coffee, Race looked a little more coherent. “Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!”

“Well then, it’s going to be a fantastic day.” Spot sipped his coffee, looking at his grump of a husband. 

Race gave him a look, moving from the oversized chair to the couch next to Spot, cuddling into him. “Why?” 

“Why what, snookums?” Spot threw an arm around him, letting him cuddle into his chest. 

Race buried his head, seeking the warmth of his husband’s chest. “Why are you so awake? Why must you love mornings?” 

“This isn’t anything new, Racer.” He ran his hand through Race’s hair. “We’ve been together for 8 years and married for 4 and you’re just now questioning that?” 

Yawning, Race sighed. “I’ve known it but I just don’t get it. Mornings are horrible.” 

“I know but there’s something special about a morning, it’s quiet and peaceful. It’s shameful wasting a day away by sleeping.” Spot shrugged, leaning down to kiss Race, who sighed in contentment. “Besides, morning cuddles are a pretty amazing thing and you’re an amazing cuddler.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Race gave him a look. “You’re buttering me up for something.” 

“No, not buttering you up; just stating a fact. You are an amazing cuddler, the best I’ve ever known.” Spot grinned. 

Race huffed. “I better be the only one you’re cuddling, mister.” 

“There’s a little girl that I love cuddling, but she’s 4.” Spot loved egging Race on when he first woke up due to the slow reaction time. 

“Maisie doesn’t count. She’s a great cuddler.” Race agreed, finishing his coffee before putting the empty mug on the side table. “What are the plans for today?” 

Looking at his phone, Spot sighed. “We’re supposed to go apple picking with Finch and Albert.” 

“Yay.” Race sat up, giving Spot a look. “Snookums?” 

Raising an eyebrow at him, Spot was concerned by the sugarly sweet tone Race’s voice had suddenly taken on. “Yes, pooks?” 

“Will you be the absolute dearest and make an apple pie for dessert tonight?” Race gave him a cheesy grin that he knew Spot wouldn’t be able to resist. 

Laughing, Spot pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him before kissing him. “Yes, pooks I can make one. But it’ll cost you.” 

“Cost me how?” Race’s voice was leery of his husband’s request. 

Spot kissed, grinning. “Clean up the kitchen after I’m done making the pie?” 

“You’re not going to mess it up any worse than you normal do, will you?” Race sighed. 

Pausing, Spot looked at Race. “Depends on how cinnamony you want the pie. Do you want a lot or a little in it?” 

“I want a repeat of last year’s Thanksgiving Apple Pie. So whatever you did to make that fantastic pie, I want you to recreate it.” Race pouted, hoping that would sway Spot to say yes. “And yes, I’ll clean up the kitchen.” 

Thinking back on his pie last year, Spot just remembered throwing in a handful of cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar, not really measuring it out. “I will try to recreate the pie from Thanksgiving last year. I didn’t write down the exact measured ingredients.” 

“Ok, snookums.” Race kissed him, snuggling into his embrace. “Just do your best. What time are we going apple picking?” 

Spot sighed, feeling Race’s breath on his neck. “I think we’re meeting at 11. We’ve got some time if you want to cuddle.” 

“Aren’t we already doing that?” He asked as Spot snorted, running his hand through Race’s hair. 

“Just making sure we’re on the same page.” Spot chuckled. “I love you Racetrack.” 

“Love you too, Spottie.” His voice sounded sleepy as Spot continued to rake his fingers through his curls. 

Before long, Spot heard the soft snores of Race as he laid on him like a koala in a tree. But honestly, Spot wouldn’t have moved for the world. He was in heaven - a snoring puppy on one side and a snoring husband on him. The perfect Saturday morning.

Thanks @cutesiewoojin for sending this in! 

[folklore-and-fairytales]

PUCK’S SONG & ON THE GREAT WALL

FROM PUCK OF POOK’S HILL by RUDYARD KIPLING (illustrated)

A FREE STORY AND A FREE POEM

======= PUCK’S SONG

See you the dimpled track that runs, All hollow through the wheat? O that was where they hauled the guns That smote King Philip’s fleet. See you our little mill that clacks, So busy by the brook? She has ground her corn and paid her tax Ever since Domesday Book. See you our stilly woods of oak, And the dread ditch beside? O that was where the Saxons broke, On the day that Harold died. See you the windy levels spread About the gates of Rye? O that was where the Northmen fled, When Alfred’s ships came by. See you our pastures wide and lone, Where the red oxen browse? O there was a City thronged and known, Ere London boasted a house. And see you, after rain, the trace Of mound and ditch and wall? O that was a Legion’s camping-place, When Cæsar sailed from Gaul. And see you marks that show and fade, Like shadows on the Downs? O they are the lines the Flint Men made, To guard their wondrous towns. Trackway and Camp and City lost, Salt Marsh where now is corn; Old Wars, old Peace, old Arts that cease, And so was England born! She is not any common Earth, Water or wood or air, But Merlin’s Isle of Gramarye, Where you and I will fare. ================ ON THE GREAT WALL

When I left Rome for Lalage’s sake By the Legions’ Road to Rimini, She vowed her heart was mine to take With me and my shield to Rimini— (Till the Eagles flew from Rimini!) And I’ve tramped Britain and I’ve tramped Gaul And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall As white as the neck of Lalage— As cold as the heart of Lalage! And I’ve lost Britain and I’ve lost Gaul (the voice seemed very cheerful about it), And I’ve lost Rome, and worst of all, I’ve lost Lalage!

 They were standing by the gate to Far Wood when they heard this song. Without a word they hurried to their private gap and wriggled through the hedge almost atop of a jay that was feeding from Puck’s hand.

 ‘Gently!’ said Puck. ‘What are you looking for?’

 ‘Parnesius, of course,’ Dan answered. ‘We’ve only just remembered yesterday. It isn’t fair.’

 Puck chuckled as he rose. ‘I’m sorry, but children who spend the afternoon with me and a Roman Centurion need a little settling dose of Magic before they go to tea with their governess. Ohé, Parnesius!’ he called.

 ‘Here, Faun!’ came the answer from ‘Volaterrae.’ They could see the shimmer of bronze armour in the beech crotch, and the friendly flash of the great shield uplifted.

 ‘I have driven out the Britons.’ Parnesius laughed like a boy. ‘I occupy their high forts. But Rome is merciful! You may come up.’ And up they three all scrambled.

 ‘What was the song you were singing just now?’ said Una, as soon as she had settled herself.

 ‘That? Oh, Rimini. It’s one of the tunes that are always being born somewhere in the Empire. They run like a pestilence for six months or a year, till another one pleases the Legions, and then they march to that.’

 ‘Tell them about the marching, Parnesius. Few people nowadays walk from end to end of this country,’ said Puck.

 ‘The greater their loss. I know nothing better than the Long March when your feet are hardened. You begin after the mists have risen, and you end, perhaps, an hour after sundown.’

 ‘And what do you have to eat?’ Dan asked, promptly.

 ‘Fat bacon, beans, and bread, and whatever wine happens to be in the rest-houses. But soldiers are born grumblers. Their very first day out, my men complained of our water-ground British corn. They said it wasn’t so filling as the rough stuff that is ground in the Roman ox-mills. However, they had to fetch and eat it.’

 ‘Fetch it? Where from?’ said Una.

 ‘From that newly-invented water-mill below the Forge.’

 ‘That’s Forge Mill—our Mill!’ Una looked at Puck.

 ‘Yes; yours,’ Puck put in. ‘How old did you think it was?’

 ‘I don’t know. Didn’t Sir Richard Dalyngridge talk about it?’

 ‘He did, and it was old in his day,’ Puck answered. ‘Hundreds of years old.’

 ‘It was new in mine,’ said Parnesius. ‘My men looked at the flour in their helmets as though it had been a nest of adders. They did it to try my patience. But I—addressed them, and we became friends.

 To tell the truth, they taught me the Roman Step. You see, I’d only served with quick-marching Auxiliaries. A Legion’s pace is altogether different. It is a long, slow stride, that never varies from sunrise to sunset. “Rome’s Race—Rome’s Pace,” as the proverb says. Twenty-four miles in eight hours, neither more nor less. Head and spear up, shield on your back, cuirass-collar open one hand’s breadth—and that’s how you take the Eagles through Britain.’

 ‘And did you meet any adventures?’ said Dan.

 ‘There are no adventures South the Wall,’ said Parnesius. ‘The worst thing that happened me was having to appear before a magistrate up North, where a wandering philosopher had jeered at the Eagles. I was able to show that the old man had deliberately blocked our road, and the magistrate told him, out of his own Book, I believe, that, whatever his God might be, he should pay proper respect to Cæsar.’

 ‘What did you do?’ said Dan.

 ‘Went on. Why should I care for such things, my business being to reach my station? It took me twenty days.

 ‘Of course, the farther North you go the emptier are the roads. At last you fetch clear of the forests and climb bare hills, where wolves howl in the ruins of our cities that have been. No more pretty girls; no more jolly magistrates who knew your Father when he was young, and invite you to stay with them; no news at the temples and way-stations except bad news of wild beasts. There’s where you meet hunters, and trappers for the Circuses, prodding along chained bears and muzzled wolves. Your pony shies at them, and your men laugh.

 ‘The houses change from gardened villas to shut forts with watch-towers of grey stone, and great stone-walled sheepfolds, guarded by armed Britons of the North Shore. In the naked hills beyond the naked houses, where the shadows of the clouds play like cavalry charging, you see puffs of black smoke from the mines. The hard road goes on and on—and the wind sings through your helmet-plume—past altars to Legions and Generals forgotten, and broken statues of Gods and Heroes, and thousands of graves where the mountain foxes and hares peep at you. Red-hot in summer, freezing in winter, is that big, purple heather country of broken stone.

 ‘Just when you think you are at the world’s end, you see a smoke from East to West as far as the eye can turn, and then, under it, also as far as the eye can stretch, houses and temples, shops and theatres, barracks, and granaries, trickling along like dice behind—always behind—one long, low, rising and falling, and hiding and showing line of towers. And that is the Wall!’

 ‘Ah!’ said the children, taking breath.

 ‘You may well,’ said Parnesius. ‘Old men who have followed the Eagles since boyhood say nothing in the Empire is more wonderful than first sight of the Wall!’

 ‘Is it just a Wall? Like the one round the kitchen-garden?’ said Dan.

 ‘No, no! It is the Wall. Along the top are towers with guard-houses, small towers, between. Even on the narrowest part of it three men with shields can walk abreast from guard-house to guard-house. A little curtain wall, no higher than a man’s neck, runs along the top of the thick wall, so that from a distance you see the helmets of the sentries sliding back and forth like beads. Thirty feet high is the Wall, and on the Picts’ side, the North, is a ditch, strewn with blades of old swords and spear-heads set in wood, and tyres of wheels joined by chains. The Little People come there to steal iron for their arrow-heads.

 ‘But the Wall itself is not more wonderful than the town behind it. Long ago there were great ramparts and ditches on the South side, and no one was allowed to build there. Now the ramparts are partly pulled down and built over, from end to end of the Wall; making a thin town eighty miles long. Think of it! One roaring, rioting, cockfighting, wolf-baiting, horse-racing town, from Ituna on the West to Segedunum on the cold eastern beach! On one side heather, woods and ruins where Picts hide, and on the other, a vast town—long like a snake, and wicked like a snake. Yes, a snake basking beside a warm wall!

 ‘My Cohort, I was told, lay at Hunno, where the Great North Road runs through the Wall into the Province of Valentia.’ Parnesius laughed scornfully. ‘The Province of Valentia! We followed the road, therefore, into Hunno town, and stood astonished. The place was a fair—a fair of peoples from every corner of the Empire. Some were racing horses: some sat in wine-shops: some watched dogs baiting bears, and many gathered in a ditch to see cocks fight. A boy not much older than myself, but I could see he was an Officer, reined up before me and asked what I wanted.

 ‘“My station,” I said, and showed him my shield.’ Parnesius held up his broad shield with its three X’s like letters on a beer-cask.

 ‘“Lucky omen!” said he. “Your Cohort’s the next tower to us, but they’re all at the cock-fight. This is a happy place. Come and wet the Eagles.” He meant to offer me a drink.

 ‘“When I’ve handed over my men,” I said. I felt angry and ashamed.

 ‘“Oh, you’ll soon outgrow that sort of nonsense,” he answered. “But don’t let me interfere with your hopes. Go on to the Statue of Roma Dea. You can’t miss it. The main road into Valentia!” and he laughed and rode off. I could see the Statue not a quarter of a mile away, and there I went. At some time or other the Great North Road ran under it into Valentia; but the far end had been blocked up because of the Picts, and on the plaster a man had scratched, “Finish!” It was like marching into a cave. We grounded spears together, my little thirty, and it echoed in the barrel of the arch, but none came. There was a door at one side painted with our number. We prowled in, and I found a cook asleep, and ordered him to give us food. Then I climbed to the top of the Wall, and looked out over the Pict country, and I—thought,’ said Parnesius. ‘The bricked-up arch with “Finish!” on the plaster was what shook me, for I was not much more than a boy.’

 ‘What a shame!’ said Una. ‘But did you feel happy after you’d had a good——’ Dan stopped her with a nudge.

 ‘Happy?’ said Parnesius. ‘When the men of the Cohort I was to command came back unhelmeted from the cock-fight, their birds under their arms, and asked me who I was? No, I was not happy; but I made my new Cohort unhappy too.... I wrote my Mother I was happy, but, oh, my friends’—he stretched arms over bare knees—‘I would not wish my worst enemy to suffer as I suffered through my first months on the Wall. Remember this: among the officers was scarcely one, except myself (and I thought I had lost the favour of Maximus, my General), scarcely one who had not done something of wrong or folly. Either he had killed a man, or taken money, or insulted the magistrates, or blasphemed the Gods, and so had been sent to the Wall as a hiding-place from shame or fear. And the men were as the officers. Remember, also, that the Wall was manned by every breed and race in the Empire. No two towers spoke the same tongue, or worshipped the same Gods. In one thing only we were all equal. No matter what arms we had used before we came to the Wall, on the Wall we were all archers, like the Scythians. The Pict cannot run away from the arrow, or crawl under it. He is a bowman himself. He knows!’

 ‘I suppose you were fighting Picts all the time,’ said Dan.

 ‘Picts seldom fight. I never saw a fighting Pict for half a year. The tame Picts told us they had all gone North.’

 ‘What is a tame Pict?’ said Dan.

 ‘A Pict—there were many such—who speaks a few words of our tongue, and slips across the Wall to sell ponies and wolf-hounds. Without a horse and a dog, and a friend, man would perish. The Gods gave me all three, and there is no gift like friendship. Remember this’—Parnesius turned to Dan—‘when you become a young man. For your fate will turn on the first true friend you make.’

 ‘He means,’ said Puck, grinning, ‘that if you try to make yourself a decent chap when you’re young, you’ll make rather decent friends when you grow up. If you’re a beast, you’ll have beastly friends. Listen to the Pious Parnesius on Friendship!’

 ‘I am not pious,’ Parnesius answered, ‘but I know what goodness means; and my friend, though he was without hope, was ten thousand times better than I. Stop laughing, Faun!’

 ‘Oh Youth Eternal and All-believing,’ cried Puck, as he rocked on the branch above. ‘Tell them about your Pertinax.’

 ‘He was that friend the Gods sent me—the boy who spoke to me when I first came. Little older than myself, commanding the Augusta Victoria Cohort on the tower next to us and the Numidians. In virtue he was far my superior.’

 ‘Then why was he on the Wall?’ Una asked, quickly. ‘They’d all done something bad. You said so yourself.’

 ‘He was the nephew, his Father had died, of a great rich man in Gaul who was not always kind to his Mother. When Pertinax grew up, he discovered this, and so his uncle shipped him off, by trickery and force, to the Wall. We came to know each other at a ceremony in our Temple—in the dark. It was the Bull Killing,’ Parnesius explained to Puck.

 ‘I see,’ said Puck, and turned to the children. ‘That’s something you wouldn’t quite understand. Parnesius means he met Pertinax in church.’

 ‘Yes—in the Cave we first met, and we were both raised to the Degree of Gryphons together.’ Parnesius lifted his hand towards his neck for an instant. ‘He had been on the Wall two years, and knew the Picts well. He taught me first how to take Heather.’

 ‘What’s that?’ said Dan.

 ‘Going out hunting in the Pict country with a tame Pict. You are quite safe so long as you are his guest, and wear a sprig of heather where it can be seen. If you went alone you would surely be killed, if you were not smothered first in the bogs. Only the Picts know their way about those black and hidden bogs. Old Allo, the one-eyed, withered little Pict from whom we bought our ponies, was our special friend. At first we went only to escape from the terrible town, and to talk together about our homes. Then he showed us how to hunt wolves and those great red deer with horns like Jewish candlesticks. The Roman-born officers rather looked down on us for doing this, but we preferred the heather to their amusements. Believe me,’ Parnesius turned again to Dan, ‘a boy is safe from all things that really harm when he is astride a pony or after a deer. Do you remember, O Faun,’ he turned to Puck, ‘the little altar I built to the Sylvan Pan by the pine-forest beyond the brook?’

 ‘Which? The stone one with the line from Xenophon?’ said Puck, in quite a new voice.

 ‘No. What do I know of Xenophon? That was Pertinax—after he had shot his first mountain-hare with an arrow—by chance! Mine I made of round pebbles in memory of my first bear. It took me one happy day to build.’ Parnesius faced the children quickly.

 ‘And that was how we lived on the Wall for two years—a little scuffling with the Picts, and a great deal of hunting with old Allo in the Pict country. He called us his children sometimes, and we were fond of him and his barbarians, though we never let them paint us Pict fashion. The marks endure till you die.’

 ‘How’s it done?’ said Dan. ‘Anything like tattooing?’

 ‘They prick the skin till the blood runs, and rub in coloured juices. Allo was painted blue, green, and red from his forehead to his ankles. He said it was part of his religion. He told us about his religion (Pertinax was always interested in such things), and as we came to know him well, he told us what was happening in Britain behind the Wall. Many things took place behind us in those days. And, by the Light of the Sun,’ said Parnesius, earnestly, ‘there was not much that those little people did not know! He told me when Maximus crossed over to Gaul, after he had made himself Emperor of Britain, and what troops and emigrants he had taken with him. We did not get the news on the Wall till fifteen days later. He told me what troops Maximus was taking out of Britain every month to help him to conquer Gaul; and I always found the numbers as he said. Wonderful! And I tell another strange thing!’

 He jointed his hands across his knees, and leaned his head on the curve of the shield behind him.

 ‘Late in the summer, when the first frosts begin and the Picts kill their bees, we three rode out after wolf with some new hounds. Rutilianus, our General, had given us ten days’ leave, and we had pushed beyond the Second Wall—beyond the Province of Valentia—into the higher hills, where there are not even any of Rome’s old ruins. We killed a she-wolf before noon, and while Allo was skinning her he looked up and said to me, “When you are Captain of the Wall, my child, you won’t be able to do this anymore!”

 ‘I might as well have been made Prefect of Lower Gaul, so I laughed and said, “Wait till I am Captain.” “No, don’t wait,” said Allo. “Take my advice and go home—both of you.” “We have no homes,” said Pertinax. “You know that as well as we do. We’re finished men—thumbs down against both of us. Only men without hope would risk their necks on your ponies.” The old man laughed one of those short Pict laughs—like a fox barking on a frosty night. “I’m fond of you two,” he said. “Besides, I’ve taught you what little you know about hunting. Take my advice and go home.”

 ‘“We can’t,” I said. “I’m out of favour with my General, for one thing; and for another, Pertinax has an uncle.”

 ‘“I don’t know about his uncle,” said Allo, “but the trouble with you, Parnesius, is that your General thinks well of you.”

 ‘“Roma Dea!” said Pertinax, sitting up. “What can you guess what Maximus thinks, you old horse-coper?”

 ‘Just then (you know how near the brutes creep when one is eating?) a great dog-wolf jumped out behind us, and away our rested hounds tore after him, with us at their tails. He ran us far out of any country we’d ever heard of, straight as an arrow till sunset, towards the sunset. We came at last to long capes stretching into winding waters, and on a grey beach below us we saw ships drawn up. Forty-seven we counted—not Roman galleys but the raven-winged ships from the North where Rome does not rule. Men moved in the ships, and the sun flashed on their helmets—winged helmets of the red-haired men from the North where Rome does not rule. We watched, and we counted, and we wondered; for though we had heard rumours concerning these Winged Hats, as the Picts called them, never before had we looked upon them.

 ‘“Come away! Come away!” said Allo. “My Heather won’t protect you here. We shall all be killed!” His legs trembled like his voice. Back we went—back across the heather under the moon, till it was nearly morning, and our poor beasts stumbled on some ruins.

 ‘When we woke, very stiff and cold, Allo was mixing the meal and water. One does not light fires in the Pict country except near a village. The little men are always signalling to each other with smokes, and a strange smoke brings them out buzzing like bees. They can sting, too!

 ‘“What we saw last night was a trading-station,” said Allo. “Nothing but a trading-station.”

 ‘“I do not like lies on an empty stomach,” said Pertinax. “I suppose” (he had eyes like an eagle’s), “I suppose that is a trading-station also?” He pointed to a smoke far off on a hill-top, ascending in what we call the Pict’s Call:—Puff—double-puff: double-puff—puff! They make it by raising and dropping a wet hide on a fire.

 ‘“No,” said Allo, pushing the platter back into the bag. “That is for you and me. Your fate is fixed. Come.”

 ‘We came. When one takes Heather, one must obey one’s Pict—but that wretched smoke was twenty miles distant, well over on the east coast, and the day was as hot as a bath.

 ‘“Whatever happens,” said Allo, while our ponies grunted along, “I want you to remember me.”

 ‘“I shall not forget,” said Pertinax. “You have cheated me out of my breakfast.”

 ‘“What is a handful of crushed oats to a Roman?” he said. Then he laughed his laugh that was not a laugh. “What would you do if you were a handful of oats being crushed between the upper and lower stones of a mill?”

 ‘“I’m Pertinax, not a riddle-guesser,” said Pertinax.

 ‘“You’re a fool,” said Allo. “Your Gods and my Gods are threatened by strange Gods, and all you can do is to laugh.”

 ‘“Threatened men live long,” I said.

 ‘“I pray the Gods that may be true,” he said. “But I ask you again not to forget me.”

 ‘We climbed the last hot hill and looked out on the eastern sea, three or four miles off. There was a small sailing-galley of the North Gaul pattern at anchor, her landing-plank down and her sail half up; and below us, alone in a hollow, holding his pony, sat Maximus, Emperor of Britain! He was dressed like a hunter, and he leaned on his little stick; but I knew that back as far as I could see it, and I told Pertinax.

 ‘“You’re madder than Allo!” he said. “It must be the sun!”

 ‘Maximus never stirred till we stood before him. Then he looked me up and down, and said: “Hungry again? It seems to be my destiny to feed you whenever we meet. I have food here. Allo shall cook it.”

 ‘“No,” said Allo. “A Prince in his own land does not wait on wandering Emperors. I feed my two children without asking your leave.” He began to blow up the ashes.

 ‘“I was wrong,” said Pertinax. “We are all mad. Speak up, O Madman called Emperor!”

 ‘Maximus smiled his terrible tight-lipped smile, but two years on the Wall do not make a man afraid of mere looks. So I was not afraid.

 ‘“I meant you, Parnesius, to live and die an Officer of the Wall,” said Maximus. “But it seems from these,” he fumbled in his breast, “you can think as well as draw.” He pulled out a roll of letters I had written to my people, full of drawings of Picts, and bears, and men I had met on the Wall. Mother and my sister always liked my pictures.

 ‘He handed me one that I had called “Maximus’s Soldiers.” It showed a row of fat wine-skins, and our old Doctor of the Hunno hospital snuffing at them. Each time that Maximus had taken troops out of Britain to help him to conquer Gaul, he used to send the garrisons more wine—to keep them quiet, I suppose. On the Wall, we always called a wine-skin a “Maximus.” Oh, yes; and I had drawn them in Imperial helmets!

 ‘“Not long since,” he went on, “men’s names were sent up to Cæsar for smaller jokes than this.”

 ‘“True, Cæsar,” said Pertinax; “but you forget that was before I, your friend’s friend, became such a good spear-thrower.”

 ‘He did not actually point his hunting spear at Maximus, but balanced it on his palm—so!

 ‘“I was speaking of time past,” said Maximus, never fluttering an eyelid. “Nowadays one is only too pleased to find boys who can think for themselves, and their friends.” He nodded at Pertinax. “Your Father lent me the letters, Parnesius, so you run no risk from me.”

 ‘“None whatever,” said Pertinax, and rubbed the spear-point on his sleeve.

 ‘“I have been forced to reduce the garrisons in Britain, because I need troops in Gaul. Now I come to take troops from the Wall itself,” said he.

 ‘“I wish you joy of us,” said Pertinax. “We’re the last sweepings of the Empire—the men without hope. Myself, I’d sooner trust condemned criminals.”

 ‘“You think so?” he said, quite seriously. “But it will only be till I win Gaul. One must always risk one’s life, or one’s soul, or one’s peace—or some little thing.”

 ‘Allo passed round the fire with the sizzling deer’s meat. He served us two first.

 ‘“Ah!” said Maximus, waiting his turn. “I perceive you are in your own country. Well, you deserve it. They tell me you have quite a following among the Picts, Parnesius.”

 ‘“I have hunted with them,” I said. “Maybe I have a few friends among the Heather.”

 ‘“He is the only armoured man of you all who understands us,” said Allo, and he began a long speech about our virtues, and how we had saved one of his grandchildren from a wolf the year before.’

 ‘Had you?’ said Una.

 ‘Yes; but that was neither here nor there. The little green man orated like a—like Cicero. He made us out to be magnificent fellows. Maximus never took his eyes off our faces.

 ‘“Enough,” he said. “I have heard Allo on you. I wish to hear you on the Picts.”

 ‘I told him as much as I knew, and Pertinax helped me out. There is never harm in a Pict if you but take the trouble to find out what he wants. Their real grievance against us came from our burning their heather. The whole garrison of the Wall moved out twice a year, and solemnly burned the heather for ten miles North. Rutilianus, our General, called it clearing the country. The Picts, of course, scampered away, and all we did was to destroy their bee-bloom in the summer, and ruin their sheep-food in the spring.

 ‘“True, quite true,” said Allo. “How can we make our holy heather-wine, if you burn our bee-pasture?”

 ‘We talked long, Maximus asking keen questions that showed he knew much and had thought more about the Picts. He said presently to me: “If I gave you the old Province of Valentia to govern, could you keep the Picts contented till I won Gaul? Stand away, so that you do not see Allo’s face; and speak your own thoughts.”

 ‘“No,” I said. “You cannot re-make that Province. The Picts have been free too long.”

 ‘“Leave them their village councils, and let them furnish their own soldiers,” he said. “You, I am sure, would hold the reins very lightly.”

 ‘“Even then, no,” I said. “At least not now. They have been too oppressed by us to trust anything with a Roman name for years and years.”

 ‘I heard old Allo behind me mutter: “Good child!”

 ‘“Then what do you recommend,” said Maximus, “to keep the North quiet till I win Gaul?”

 ‘“Leave the Picts alone,” I said. “Stop the heather-burning at once, and—they are improvident little animals—send them a shipload or two of corn now and then.”

 ‘“Their own men must distribute it—not some cheating Greek accountant,” said Pertinax.

 ‘“Yes, and allow them to come to our hospitals when they are sick,” I said.

 ‘“Surely they would die first,” said Maximus.

 ‘“Not if Parnesius brought them in,” said Allo. “I could show you twenty wolf-bitten, bear-clawed Picts within twenty miles of here. But Parnesius must stay with them in Hospital, else they would go mad with fear.”

 ‘“I see,” said Maximus. “Like everything else in the world, it is one man’s work. You, I think, are that one man.”

 ‘“Pertinax and I are one,” I said.

 ‘“As you please, so long as you work. Now, Allo, you know that I mean your people no harm. Leave us to talk together,” said Maximus.

 ‘“No need!” said Allo. “I am the corn between the upper and lower millstones. I must know what the lower millstone means to do. These boys have spoken the truth as far as they know it. I, a Prince, will tell you the rest. I am troubled about the Men of the North.” He squatted like a hare in the heather, and looked over his shoulder.

 ‘“I also,” said Maximus, “or I should not be here.”

 ‘“Listen,” said Allo. “Long and long ago the Winged Hats”—he meant the Northmen—“came to our beaches and said, ‘Rome falls! Push her down!’ We fought you. You sent men. We were beaten. After that we said to the Winged Hats, ‘You are liars! Make our men alive that Rome killed, and we will believe you.’ They went away ashamed. Now they come back bold, and they tell the old tale, which we begin to believe—that Rome falls!”

 ‘“Give me three years’ peace on the Wall,” cried Maximus, “and I will show you and all the ravens how they lie!”

 ‘“Ah, I wish it too! I wish to save what is left of the corn from the millstones. But you shoot us Picts when we come to borrow a little iron from the Iron Ditch; you burn our heather, which is all our crop; you trouble us with your great catapults. Then you hide behind the Wall, and scorch us with Greek fire. How can I keep my young men from listening to the Winged Hats—in winter especially, when we are hungry? My young men will say, ‘Rome can neither fight nor rule. She is taking her men out of Britain. The Winged Hats will help us to push down the Wall. Let us show them the secret roads across the bogs.’ Do I want that? No!” He spat like an adder. “I would keep the secrets of my people though I were burned alive. My two children here have spoken truth. Leave us Picts alone. Comfort us, and cherish us, and feed us from far off—with the hand behind your back. Parnesius understands us. Let him have rule on the Wall, and I will hold my young men quiet for”—he ticked it off on his fingers—“one year easily: the next year not so easily: the third year, perhaps! See, I give you three years. If then you do not show us that Rome is strong in men and terrible in arms, the Winged Hats, I tell you, will sweep down the Wall from either sea till they meet in the middle, and you will go. I shall not grieve over that, but well I know tribe never helps tribe except for one price. We Picts will go too. The Winged Hats will grind us to this!” He tossed a handful of dust in the air.

 ‘“Oh, Roma Dea!” said Maximus, half aloud. “It is always one man’s work—always and everywhere!”

 ‘“And one man’s life,” said Allo. “You are Emperor, but not a God. You may die.”

 ‘“I have thought of that, too,” said he. “Very good. If this wind holds, I shall be at the East end of the Wall by morning. To-morrow, then, I shall see you two when I inspect; and I will make you Captains of the Wall for this work.”

 ‘“One instant, Cæsar,” said Pertinax. “All men have their price. I am not bought yet.”

 ‘“Do you also begin to bargain so early?” said Maximus. “Well?”

 ‘“Give me justice against my uncle Icenus, the Duumvir of Divio in Gaul,” he said.

 ‘“Only a life? I thought it would be money or an office. Certainly you shall have him. Write his name on these tablets—on the red side; the other is for the living!” And Maximus held out his tablets.

 ‘“He is of no use to me dead,” said Pertinax. “My mother is a widow. I am far off. I am not sure he pays her all her dowry.”

 ‘“No matter. My arm is reasonably long. We will look through your uncle’s accounts in due time. Now, farewell till to-morrow, O Captains of the Wall!”

 ‘We saw him grow small across the heather as he walked to the galley. There were Picts, scores, each side of him, hidden behind stones. He never looked left or right. He sailed away Southerly, full spread before the evening breeze, and when we had watched him out to sea, we were silent. We understood Earth bred few men like to this man.

 ‘Presently Allo brought the ponies and held them for us to mount—a thing he had never done before.

 ‘“Wait awhile,” said Pertinax, and he made a little altar of cut turf, and strewed heather-bloom atop, and laid upon it a letter from a girl in Gaul.

 ‘“What do you do, O my friend?” I said.

 ‘“I sacrifice to my dead youth,” he answered, and, when the flames had consumed the letter, he ground them out with his heel. Then we rode back to that Wall of which we were to be Captains.’

Parnesius stopped. The children sat still, not even asking if that were all the tale. Puck beckoned, and pointed the way out of the wood. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, ‘but you must go now.’

 ‘We haven’t made him angry, have we?’ said Una. ‘He looks so far off, and—and—thinky.’

 ‘Bless your heart, no. Wait till to-morrow. It won’t be long. Remember, you’ve been playing “Lays of Ancient Rome.”’

 And as soon as they had scrambled through their gap, where Oak, Ash and Thorn grow, that was all they remembered.

=================== From: PUCK OF POOK’s HILL by RUDYARD KIPLING (illustrated)

ISBN: 9788835367420

To download this book CLICK HERE>> http://bit.ly/2vUVAnO

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[philosophicalphemale-blog]

PHUCK PHEELINGS.

ha ha.

I have to admit – it’s funny to imagine you all struggling to decode the title of this post in your head. in your minds, you’re probably grappling with the pronunciation of “phuck”. perhaps your tongue ventured to attempt saying it aloud – “p huck?”, “puck?” “pook?”. 

ha ha. all wrong. and ps - i hope if you did try to say it aloud the tno one heard you because you probably sounded like an idiot <3

it’s actually pronounced “fuck.” 

yeah, i know. makes no sense, right? why not type THAT word? why substitute the “F” with the seemingly useless phoneme, “PH”? 

well, i used to believe vulgarity was reserved only for those who lacked wit. however, after 19 ~wise~ years of extended contemplation, i have learned that words always fail. 

A L W A Y S , always, A l W a Y s S s S s S s S s

how naive to believe that a combination of 26 different letters could begin to accurately reflect the inner workings of the human mind? if words were foolproof, there would be no misunderstandings in the world. the depths of every person’s soul could be unlocked. people refrain from revealing their deepest thoughts because they are afraid of being misunderstood. words cannot convey the complexity of cellular combinations and chemical cataclysms. 

so, with this in mind, i decided to blend vulgarity and wit by synthesizing my own words. pronounced aloud, there is virtually no difference between “fuck” and “phuck.” however, when written, “phuck” looks flawed. however, in actuality there is no difference between these two words. the phony construct of the english language tells readers that phuck a misspelling. it’s a mistake. a flaw. however, a flaw cannot exist in something that is already overflowing with ephemerality.

thus, “phuck” was born. this utter nonsense a has now become a personal metaphor that can be applied to life. about the volatility of phriends. pheelings. pun. the physical state of being. spelling can’t matter because accuracy doesn’t matter. it’s a social construct. it doesn't matter now, and it sure as hell won’t matter later. nothing really matters. life is going to end, just like this blog post. so why waste time adhering to a set of meaningless rules that are void of your **selph expression?**

the phucking end 

(ps - before anyone tries to tell me how my blogging is an inherent paradox since this whole post pertains to how words mean nothing and since blogs are rely on the combination of words in efforts to reflect the crevices of the consciousness, your blog must be meaningless. i know. i’ve thought about it. i’m aware of this absurd incongruity. but whatever. most people aren’t aware. that’s what makes me a philosophical phemale.)