#will be honest here i really do not see much point in sticking around. i hurt my family i dont have anything but the most tenuous and

[beeapocalypse]

i will change every single one of my inescapable patterns and master my life. tomorrow

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[breezymichelle99]

Viral Soft Launch | LN

Handsomer by Russ (remix)

Summary: Lando and you had always had a very private relationship, always keeping to yourself until a fun little tik tok trend helps you soft launch your relationship.

Warnings: Pretty much none. All fluff. Some sexual innuendo, dirty song lyrics, private relationship, sweet cute bf Lando.

You and Formula one driver, Lando Norris have been dating each other privately for about a year now, there have been rumors but nothing has been confirmed about you two at this time, and to be honest you and Lando liked it that way.. You had been begging him for weeks now to do this silly little Tik Tok trend with you that you had seen other couples doing, even if you didn’t post it to your respective social media accounts you still wanted to make a fun memory with him.

Finally you got him to agree. “Alright Alright, If this is what you want? Tell me what I have to do.” he says with a smirk looking down at you pouting up at him, his thumb running across your bottom lip. “You are the best Lan, I love you so much.” your eyes sparkle at him. You hear him chuckle. “I love you too, Y|N.” his green eyes shining with so much love and admiration for his silly girlfriend. “Okay I'm going to need you to memorize these lyrics.” you say handing him a piece of paper with your handwriting on it. The lyrics to The Remix of Russ’s “Handsomer.” written across it. He looks over at you shaking his head with a laugh. “It's a good thing I love you.” he says, placing a kiss to the top of your head as he leaves you in the living room to practice your part.

After a few hours Lando joins you back in the living room. “I think I’m ready.” he says with a smirk as he watches you practicing your part along with some choreography he feared he would have to learn. You look up at him giving him a wink. “Perfect, me too.” you say pulling him to you and standing on your tippy toes to kiss his perfect little nose. “Here's what I'd like to do.” you say directing him. He lets you drag him around the living room trying to find the best lighting. “Perfection.” you say looking over at Lando glowing in the sunlight of your shared living room. “I want to do each of our parts and then merge them together.” you say. “I’ll do you, you do me.” you say making Lando laugh. “Cut it out Norris.” you laugh playfully shoving him away from you. His dirty mind always getting him into trouble. “Alright alright, sorry serious business, my bad.” he still can’t keep himself from chuckling. You roll your eyes at him. “Since you can’t be serious apparently. You’re going first.” you say pointing for him to return to the designated filming spot. “Bossy much.” he jokes sticking his tongue out at you but doing what he’s told of course. You return the favor sticking out your tongue back at him. Lando raises his eyebrow and opens his mouth to make a comment about putting that tongue to much better use but he decides to keep his mouth shut and do what he’s told.

“Please feel free to have fun with it.” you say winking at him. “So I shouldn’t just stand here like a lump and mumble the lyrics? Rats, that was my whole plan.” he teases you once more. “You know what, never mind.” you sigh walking away, giving up on his continuous bullying and this cute idea you wanted to do with him. “No, no baby come back, I’m sorry I’ll be more serious I swear.” he begs not wanting to see the disappointment on your adorable face any longer. You give him a long side eye. “Ok.” you whisper returning to your filming spot. “Ready when you are princess.” he says with a wink. “On the count of three, okay baby?” you say he nods. “One..Two..Three.” you say pressing Play.

Much to your surprise Lando had really taken his part seriously. “I know I’m fine, but the money makes me handsomer. Walk around, smellin’ like a come-up, and the answer for her problems, but I’m not him, I don’t mind it though. You don’t like me how you think you do, I like it though.” he finishes his part in a fit of laughter. “I'm sorry but this is ridiculous.” he says running his hands through his curls as he rewatches his rap, with both of you laughing hysterically by the end. “Alright missy no more stalling your turn.” he says taking your phone from you. He had no clue what your part was going to be so he was in for a little treat. You take your spot ready whenever he is. You nod. “On the count of three angel face.” he winks. You nod again, locking in. “One..Two..Three.” he says.

“I won’t lie, that extra coin don’t hurt But I gets money baby, I just rather spend yours first. I know for sure the pussy worth more than an Hermes purse.” Lando bites his bottom lip keeping in his gasp as he watches you in pure awe. “I got the best on earth, so that dick better come with some perks. Yeah you fine, and the money caught my eye too but there's a big difference between you and my side dude. You be all up in between them thighs, he’s who I lie to.” you pause winking at him licking your lips. An almost moan leaves Lando’s lips. Damn you were sexy. “You get my titties in your face, he getting side-boob.” you stop laughing hysterically falling into his arms.. You rewatch it laughing hysterically, you both try it a few more times finally deciding to just do it together instead of making separate videos, before you are fully satisfied, each time ending with the pair of you in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. the final take has you both laughing hysterically, lando kissing you softly the pair of you looking at each other completely in love. “That’s it, that's the one.” you say with a soft sweet smile on your face, as you edit the final cut and save it to your phone. Playing it back for Lando.

“This turned out so cute and fun, thanks for convincing me to do it with you.” he laughs, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you for agreeing to do it with me.” you say kissing his cheek gently. You see Lando smirk. “What?” you ask him caressing his cheek with your soft fingertips. “There's no side dude looking at your side boob? Right??” he asks with a laugh. You smack him playfully. “Seriously? Of course not you should know better than that.. You are my one and only Lan.” you smirk. The pair of you stare at each other for a moment before you sigh.

“I know how we like to keep ourselves private so I don’t think we should share it.” you say. Lando can see the sadness in your eyes as the words leave your lips. You knew why you kept things private but sometimes you just really wanted to be able to share the love and joy you had for your sweet boyfriend. He kisses your lips softly. “Whatever you think is best princess, at least we have the moment for us.” he says . There is something mischievous in his eyes. You let out a sigh. “It's probably for the best.” you say setting your phone down on the table, kissing Lando on the cheek and heading into the kitchen to grab a drink. Lando smirks. He had a plan.

He takes your phone and sends the video to himself. He knows the reason why you two had remained private about your relationship but he thought it was about time he shared the love he had for the most beautiful sweet girl he had ever known. You walk back into the living room to grab your phone, so you can put on some music while you cook for the two of you. He knew this was the perfect opportunity. He heard you digging around in the cupboard pulling out pots and pans, the soft hum of Martin Garrix coming from where you were. He smirks as he takes to his instagram to post the video of you two. “You are the answer to all my problems.” he captioned the video after a popular lyric in the song, tagging you and hitting share.. He hears everything in the kitchen stop. He smiles as the video had finally uploaded to his instagram.

“Lando?” he hears you call to him. He can’t help but smirk. “Yeah babe.” he says as you meet him in the hall, phone in hand. You eye him. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you?” you laugh at your idiot boyfriend. He pulls you close. “I couldn’t help it, we looked so cute and had so much fun, I couldn’t let that go to waste, plus you worked so hard to get me to do it with you, and looked so disappointed when we decided not to share it.” he says. “What about our privacy?” you ask him, as he brushes a strand of your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “We’ll deal with it as it comes my love, there isn’t a single thing we can’t handle together.” he says kissing your lips reassuring you that everything was going to be alright. At this time you were sure the internet was probably going wild with your relationship finally confirmed.

You decide to follow Lando’s lead and share his post to your story. “#SoftLaunch I love you 😘 Thanks for being silly with me babe. You are my everything 🥰” you were so happy you finally got to share this love you had with everyone. Lando’s fans were going crazy, loving you two finally going public. There had been so many rumors since you’d been in the paddock so much but you two had always been careful about putting your relationship into the public eye but it was kind of refreshing to finally be out in the open sharing your love for each other and being able to announce your relationship in such a fun way, which fans were absolutely loving. You couldn’t wait to be able to get him to do the next Tik Tok trend with you.

The End.

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

part one | part two

summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)

warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)

This was a bad idea. You knew that. 

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 

You were so fucked. 

.

.

.

You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you. 

Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot. 

And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction. 

So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening. 

The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.

He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye. 

He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him. 

.

.

.

“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening. 

Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing. 

After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue. 

You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side. 

You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself. 

But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him. 

“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?” 

“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot. 

“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help. 

“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I’m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes. 

“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out. 

He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it. 

“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying. 

But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door. 

“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door. 

Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself. 

With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief. 

Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle. 

You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either. 

You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face. 

“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out. 

Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.  

Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason. 

Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-

“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky. 

“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room). 

“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again. 

“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking,  “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.” 

You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal. 

“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?

Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking. 

“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you. 

“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you. 

“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud. 

“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older. 

He was almost double your age, actually. 

“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here” 

“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed. 

“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth. 

Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever” 

Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus. 

“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie” 

“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek. 

This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes. 

Was he about to kiss you? 

You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you. 

You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips. 

And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting, 

He walked away. 

What the fuck? 

“You smoke?” 

“Wha- I’m sorry?” 

Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too. 

“I said do you smoke?” 

“No, s’bad for you” 

“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now” 

“No f’course not I just-  you asked if I smoked, that’s all” 

“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.” 

Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence. 

Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?” 

You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves. 

Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him. 

“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered. 

Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?” 

Oh fuck. 

You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you. 

“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.

“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out. 

A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.” 

You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way. 

What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie. 

You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them. 

But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you. 

You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different. 

.

.

.

The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out. 

Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis. 

Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel. 

The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured. 

“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.” 

“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back. 

“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.” 

“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead. 

“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you. 

“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.” 

You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out. 

Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it. 

You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw. 

“Now, Can I please kiss you?” 

Fucking finally. 

You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible. 

Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss. 

Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.

 He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally. 

But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry. 

You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements. 

It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him. 

You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more. 

His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did. 

Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car. 

The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes. 

The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe. 

Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak. 

Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around. 

“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you. 

“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band. 

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel. 

His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him. 

Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off. 

The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. 

He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet. 

You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic. 

“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement. 

Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.” 

He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice. 

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it. 

Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline. 

You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on. 

“It’s glass,” You said simply. 

“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you. 

“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed, 

“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out” 

Well, when you put it like that. 

You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control. 

Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him. 

Oh shit. Do not fall for him. 

This was a bad idea. You knew that. 

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 

You were so fucked. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face. 

“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot. 

“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.” 

You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning. 

“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own. 

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white. 

“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again. 

“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving. 

“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel. 

Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again. 

“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie” 

“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway. 

“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off. 

You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust. 

Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs. 

The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls. 

Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous. 

“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him. 

He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to. 

His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra. 

He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more. 

“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”. 

Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down. 

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you. 

“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you. 

Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now. 

He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you. 

You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close. 

“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you” 

That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop. 

Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down. 

“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you. 

You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he. 

“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped. 

“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you. 

“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation. 

Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. 

“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you. 

Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress. 

“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him. 

“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up. 

“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to. 

“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you. 

Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on. 

“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach. 

Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head. 

Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone. 

Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours. 

Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach. 

Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly. 

“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face. 

Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in. 

“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.” 

You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?”  in fake pity. 

“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” 

Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him. 

“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice. 

“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was. 

“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as. 

“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw. 

“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again. 

“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there. 

“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already. 

You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry. 

“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head. 

Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.

 At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him. 

You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else. 

Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved. 

It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt. 

“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak. 

“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. 

Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night. 

You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come. 

“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop. 

“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder. 

You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning. 

He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex. 

“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep. 

There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together. 

.

.

.

You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest. 

You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.

Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway. 

The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room. 

A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie. 

You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.

Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–” 

That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall. 

“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time. 

“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man. 

“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed. 

“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom. 

Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment. 

“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him. 

“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him. 

That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different. 

Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.” 

Oh. 

You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what. 

This was what he did. You had known this going into it. 

Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid. 

As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past. 

You thought he would say goodbye to you. 

Say something before he left. 

He didn’t. 

He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you. 

It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him. 

So he left. 

.

.

.

authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you

taglist @squidwards-fave-tentacle @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @thatfantagirl @icant-hangout-imdrumming

[melliemell]

Pairing: Dazai x f!reader

Contents: mostly SFW, first date with Dazai, making out at uncomfortable places yet again, CW for Dazai-typical discussions of suicide, nothing too graphic; fluff and cheekiness in full. Approx 2k.

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There it was again. The stare.

You moved about the food on your plate, feigning ignorance to Dazai’s gaze from the other side of the table. He’s been doing this more often in the past hour than your entire date. It got you wondering what on earth you did to get that switch up. He struck you as the airheaded type, at least at first. 

First dates as a general rule were rather awkward, as common sense points out. Even more so when said guy was a complete stranger you happened to bump into on the street. Dazai did have that effortless charm about him though, and you found yourself saying yes before you registered you’d just agreed to taking him out on a date. 

You. You taking him. 

He had a way with words, that you couldn’t deny.

And now, a second iced tea in and genuinely enjoying yourself, it was easy to see how that happened. From the constant flow of conversation to the rather peculiar sense of humour– yeah, he might be a little weird.

 A bit. 

Okay, a lot. 

But learning the effects of mushroom poisoning wasn’t all that boring. The contrary, actually. But it definitely had to do with Dazai’s ability to disarm any situation of its soberness. You found yourself relaxing into the evening with no worries over figuring out how to come up with escape plans. 

You were sticking this one out. Even if you’d probably be the one paying for dinner.

A faint tapping caught your attention.

“Aw, you’re not paying attention to me,” Dazai said, pouting. He clung his fork against his plate again, looking rather dejected enough to make you feel sad for him. “My lady doesn’t see me worthy of her precious time. Gah, what pains!”

You raised a brow. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” You wondered how quickly he could switch between emotions. The look from earlier was completely gone.

“So are lots of people around us.” He loomed in closer, eyes glinting with only trouble. “But I keep my attention on the really cute ones.”

Ah, a charmer indeed. Hmm. Let’s see then…

“Do you, now? In fact–” You looked around innocently, weighing your options before settling on a table to Dazai’s back. A smile crept on your lips and you pointed discreetly. “–I’ve always been more of an admirer of elegant appeal than ‘cuteness’, to be honest.” 

“Oh?” 

You sipped your tea patiently as Dazai threw a carefree glance over his shoulder to the woman sitting not far from him. Nothing stood out at first glance, but the way she carried the simple, yet classy dress was enough to give you a double take. It was a stark contrast to the rest of you here.

The restaurant you were in did not have any dress code; it was far from those high-end establishments that required such frivolity.

The low woah that left Dazai’s lips was pretty much on point. It was almost like seeing a poorly disguised celebrity on a random Wednesday. 

Dazai hummed. “I see, I see.” He rested a cheek on his knuckles. “Sad to hear, though. You have a lot more fun with cuties! I have a coworker who’s very tidied up. He’s pretty fun to vex, but it’s almost impossible to free him from that stick up his ass. What a shame.”

“So I should go for the fun ones?” 

“I hear it’s good to mingle with like-minded people,” Dazai said, and winked. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that. I’m rather ‘tidied’ too, And if it comes with being seen as classy– I don’t mind.” You didn’t feel embarrassed by this. Too much adventure tends to stress you out more often than not. It was a miracle you even went on this date to begin with. But the look on Dazai’s face made you pause.

“Whaat? Pshh,” he waved a hand dismissively. A small glint of mischief flashed in his eyes, making you narrow yours in distrust. “Your modesty is making my heart flutter, here–”

He reached forward, clasping your hand into his before resting it against his chest. His vest felt warm, the wool grazing at your fingertips gently.

You blinked, face blank. “You know I can’t feel anything through–”

“Oh my,” Dazai said, that cheeky smile reappearing. He leaned closer, tone low, “I will admit, this is a bit straightforward; I’m quite shy. But… when a beautiful woman hints at wishing to undress me, and publicly I might add, then–”

Your face heated up. “What? No– nono, you just–,” you hissed, your other hand flying to cover the already spreading flush on your cheeks, and Dazai laughed heartedly.

“See? Told you you were a cutie,” he said, cocking his head. He squeezed your hand, showing no signs of letting go anytime soon. 

“And you’re too much,” you said, eyes peeking from spread fingers. 

“Maybe I need the guiding hand of a good honest samaritan.”

“So long as you don’t lead them to a heart attack first,” you said, cheeks still red.

“Aw, man.” Dazai wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound fun at all. Too uncomfortable for my tastes. Did you know some heart attacks could last for hours? Bleh.”

“Add a comfy bed there in the mix and I’d agree. Heart attacks suck,” you said, and immediately drew slightly back as Dazai all but bore his gaze into you, eyes wide. You weren’t expecting that level of attention… and that stare from earlier. The fleeting one; it was back. 

This man was curious indeed.

There was a moment where no one spoke, Dazai not breaking eye contact with you as you blinked back at him. Then– the sound of wood scraping on floor reached your ears as Dazai scooped his chair closer, crouching close enough to you to feel his body heat. His thigh was flush against yours.

“Please,” Dazai began, “share with me what you meant by needing a bed. How would you like to leave this so dreadful world? Do you have opinions on carbon monoxide?”

You looked down at your seating. “Uhh.” 

Your brain blanked. It was a sudden change, and you were sure you had struck an interesting chord. Dazai nodded his head, beckoning you to share, but your focus was slowly seeping away, replaced by the newfound knowledge that Dazai’s hair was actually probably dark auburn, not chestnut,  and not as straight as you assumed. Or maybe it was the light. Might be. 

It looked floppy too. The type that glides smoothly through your fingers. 

You snapped back, sudden and quick. “Carbon what? Yes, no– I mean, I– like sleeping? Doesn’t sound bad to just drift off in the middle of it.”

Dazai nodded again. He was way too invested in this. “I see. a bit old-fashioned, but I respect that. Very Victorian of you.” 

“Yeah, and you strike me as the obnoxious type. Quiet and peaceful doesn’t ring quite as accurately,” you said casually. You’ve had weirder discussions with your close friends. This wasn’t all too outside your calibre. 

Dazai cradled his chin in his hand, striking a rather silly pose as he pondered this over. “I have said before I’d rather go out with a bang, hah. I am a man of my word, but if a beauty like you were to offer…”

You patted Dazai on the cheek. “Buckle up, clown man. We’re too young for that. Ask me again in, hmm, 60 years? No, make it 70, I’m an overachiever.”

A low whistle left Dazai’s lips, and he flopped back dramatically on the back of his chair. “Time is excruciating! Oh, to wait so long, my frail heart.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a baby.”

Dazai stuck out his tongue. 

Insufferable. Yet endearing. Keeping back your smiles was becoming harder and harder. Dazai didn’t need a confidence boost like that. Not when he leaned closer every time he made a remark, or when he listened to you intently as you rattled on about your shitty day job last summer or how you missed living at home with your mom’s cooking and her daily gossips. He wasn’t as obnoxious as you thought. 

Okay, maybe a little. 

At some point his hand came to rest over your knee, index finger looping lazy circles on your thigh. You didn’t remember giving him permission to do that, but… somehow, losing that contact wasn’t something you wanted. You leaned into it, catching the quick grin that formed on Dazai’s lips.

It wasn’t long before he had you completely wrapped around his finger, the pair of you stumbling out into the late evening filled with too much giddiness and anticipation. There wasn’t a drop of alcohol in your system yet your mind felt light, barely registering the walk back to your car. 

Dazai sprinted a bit ahead, bowing at the waist as he held the door open for you. “My lady, allow me.”

You snorted as you climbed into the driver’s seat. “Very smooth, but if this is your way of pleading for a ride… hmm, wasn’t the subway that way?”

“Aww, you’ll leave me stranded here, and all alone.” 

 Big brown eyes and a pout to kill for, Dazai was pulling the sympathy card like a champ. You weren’t gonna let him so easy, though. “Aren’t you a big boy? I’m sure you can manage.”

He bent down, resting on the lowered window. “I take it I didn’t win you over? Bummer. And I thought we were having a great time.”

“We were. But I learned something new about myself today.”

Dazai perked. “My my, and what is that?”

“You’re too fun to torment. I like that in a man.”

“Cruel,” Dazai said. “I’m way more fun to cuddle.”

You came closer, watching to see Dazai’s body language. He did not budge from his position, his attention fully drawn to you. He was needy for attention; it wasn’t hard to draw that conclusion, but giving in so fast wasn’t your style. Just a small pinch then, maybe…

“Hmm,” you said, twirling a loose strand of Dazai’s hair around your finger. He leaned in closer. “We’ll see.”

You had but a second to glance at his lips before Dazai captured yours. Your hands raised instinctively, cupping his face and you pulled him closer, earning a yelp as Dazai nearly lost his footing before he grabbed at the window frame. You paid that no mind, too busy. 

You didn’t expect Dazai to be a shy kisser; after the sudden moment of quick passion– you found him slowly working your lips together. Chaste and sweet, before he coaxed your mouth open with his. You swallowed his quiet sigh of contentment as his tongue explored yours, felt him running a hand through your hair to settle back at your neck, beckoning you closer.

Not that you could. It was getting hard to breathe, or you just forgot how to. You weren’t sure. 

“Stop, stop,” you whispered in between kisses. “We should really stop, Dazai.”

“2 more hours, please.”

You both laughed, and it was followed by a gentle nib at your lower lip before you lost yourself in him again. 

The world blurred, forgotten, as heat settled between your legs. It always marveled you– how nothing seemed to be enough in those moments. the only thought was more, more, more.

You wanted more. 

“Enough,” you said suddenly, hands pushing at Dazai’s shoulders. He had almost crawled inside your car, through the fucking window.

Dazai blinked at you, still a bit dazed. His pupils were blown wide, teeth grazing his lower lip as he tried to lean subconsciously in again. “You have really round cheeks, did you know that? Cute. Why is everything about you cute?” 

“Yeah?” You set your key in place, starting the engine. “You can make me a list later. Come on.” You patted the seat beside you.

“Wait–” Dazai beamed at you “–does this mean I get to be your passenger princess?”

“Not if you don’t hurry.” The car moved slightly forward in warning, Dazai’s grin widening as he scurried to the other side.

This wasn’t how you planned your night to go but… as Dazai sat down beside you, belt secured and giving you a thumbs up with both hands, well, you could only shake your head with amusement. 

He sure was something. 

Might as well see where this goes…

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter eight, halloween)

‘Your hands are all over my scent, I worry for you, you worry for me, and it's fine if we know we won't change. Collect every dream in these old empty pockets, in hope that I'll see them someday. But the wreckage of you, I no longer reside in, and the bridges have long since been burned, the ash of the home that I started the fire in. It starts to return to the Earth, I'm leavin' this town and I'm changin' my address I know that you'll come if you want. It's not Halloween, but the ghost you're dressed up as sure knows how to haunt’

summary; communication is hard, especially when spencer is keeping secrets and you’re debating sticking around to find out what they are.

warnings; arguments, fem reader, reader is a bitch, horrible miscommunications, spencer is confusing, reader is hurt, they both cry, some comfort but not really, direct continuation of the last chapter, suggestive so 18+ please, mdni, there is so many mixed emotions in this, kissing, mentions commitment issues, ghosting, god they are complicated, reader is real as always.

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules @ameerakane20 @lucere @cultish-corner @psyches-reid

“Please.” It was so quiet, so desperate, full of genuine plea leaving his lips as he hand brushed your shoulder, spinning you to face him. You looked up at him and your chest ached painfully at the tears lining his eyes. You wondered how long it would be before he no longer had an effect on you.

You shook your head, dropping your gaze down. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how shit he made you feel, make him feel the hurt he had inflicted onto you, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was Spencer for christ sake. You hated it, so much, that he was standing here and so were you, you hated that you were looking into his eyes and your heart was aching at the sight, you hated him so much it made your chest hurt, or maybe that was because you loved him.

“What do you want from this, Spencer?” It was shakier than you intended it to come out. You didn’t understand him, which wasn’t new since his brain was a complexity that yours couldn’t near but this was different. His feelings had always been clear until now. Why was he so fixated on making sure you knew he was sorry, why was he so worried about that when he wouldn’t provide you with an explanation, when he knew without that there was no way he could fix this.

“I just- i don’t want you to hate me.” He whispered, your mind spun with furthered confusion and honestly his mixed signals and emotions were beginning to give you whiplash to the point your head hurt and your neck ached. His hand reached out for your jaw, you snapped your head away.

“Would that make you feel better about yourself? If i didn’t hate you?” You asked, maybe the words were malicious, but your voice came out genuine, searching his eyes to see if he needed some sort of validation from you.

“No- I just- I want to tell you everything but I can’t, because you will argue with me and i hate arguing with you-“ you cut off his ramble.

“What do you think this is? A friendly discussion?”

“Closure?”

You scoffed, “No explanation, No reasoning, wont be honest, avoiding questions, getting frustrated- Yeah no this is great closure actually. I hope you feel better now.” You huffed out, tone laced with sarcasm.

He said your name, you frowned. “I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up, i know. And im sorry i can’t tell you what you want to hear— or anything worth listening to but I care about you, so much. So incredibly much, even if you don’t believe it. I do, I do. I care about you.” He was begging in his words. You didn’t understand why.

“I hate what you did, and i hate how you made me feel, and i hate that i trusted you, i hate that you lied to me—”

“I didn’t lie.”

You scoffed, "I'll never hurt you'" you mocked his promise, "I promise" you continued. He remained silent as his gaze dropped, his hands came to run through his hair.

You were silent for a moment, before you sighed, dropping your gaze, "I don't hate you." You mumbled, not for his comfort but for the fact it was true. You didn't hate him, hating him was near impossible.

"Im sorry." He apologised. "Let me make it up to you."

"Tell me why." You argued.

"I can't." He almost begged, like it physically hurt him to say.

You shook your head, "Then can you just, leave me the fuck alone?" You were tired. Of this, of this feeling. It was as if Spencer came into your life, got close, purely for the sake of reminding you why you didn't let anyone do that. It was sickening. The hurt caused you physically sickness more times then you were willing to admit.

The nights you spent in hysterics over the overwhelming ache in your heart, the him shaped ache. Well those were nights you kept to yourself. When nights grew too lonely, or the side of the bed he had almost claimed as his own carried a hint of his scent, when you saw the hoodie laying on the chair in the corner of your room. You never wore it, you couldn't. You couldn't return it either. It remained in place in the corner of your room, untouched.

"I can't." He repeated in the same tone, yet quieter. He looked so resigned, so in his own head. Guilty.

You wanted to scream.

It was as simple as that. He was confusing, a walking contradiction. He wouldn't tell you what caused his sudden disappearance, what you had done, or what he had done, but he was acting as if he was physically incapable of staying away from you despite that.

Your eyes squinted when you looked up at him.

You weren't going to cry - not again. The fact he had even seen that was an embarrassment you would delve into later — way too late in the night and hate yourself for, for probably the next few years of your life. He was looking at you, pleading with his eyes.

You wanted to scream.

"You don't get to do that." It came out harsh, you intended it so. You could see the physical stiffness of his body. He wanted to reach out, touch you. You wanted him to stay away.

No, you didn't. Your feelings were just as contradictory as he was. In a way you wanted him to stay away from you because you knew if he didn't you may break. The tough shell exterior may crumble for him, again. You wanted to hug him, you wanted to feel the warmth of his body and breathe in his scent, but you wanted to hate him more.

"I know." He said, quietly, It was honest. He chewed at his lip as he looked at you, hands by his side, squeezing his fists together before releasing them. You wanted to walk away. You wanted to so badly but your feet remained glued to the ground, too close to him, yet at the same time not close enough.

You pulled your gaze away, looking over the streets. It was quiet, deafeningly so. If you focused enough you'd hear the music coming from the inside of the bar. You couldn't, you couldn't focus enough on anything other than Spencer in front of you.

"Spencer." You turned your gaze back to him when you muttered his name. It was stern, steady, a complete contradiction to how you felt. "If you aren't going to give me an explanation or at least tell me what i did, then i want nothing to do with you."

His breath hitched, you heard it. He was quiet for a moment then his head dropped, a mental argument, you could imagine. Then when he spoke it was quiet, earnest.

"You didn't do anything." It came out like a promise, he said it so certainly you almost believed it. You wondered if you'd ever believe anything he said again, the voice in the back of your mind screaming that he was a liar seemed a little louder than his words.

Your eyes squinted as your arms raise and fell by your side with a huff of frustration parting your lips. You were over this. So over it.

Everything you had avoided getting yourself into - for this exact reason being proven nothing more than a mistake.

You could hardly form words.

"What did you do then?" You accused, it would be a lie to say that the thought of him possibly finding another girl didn't cross your mind at least once, or a hundred times. It was hard not come up with scenarios and false accurate explanations for what he did.

He said your name, because he wanted to believe you knew him better than that, looking at you with a frown so sad it made your heart feel as if it was constricted of blood. "Nothing- I didn't- Nobody did anything wrong." He frowned.

You furrowed your eyebrows because the more he talked the more you wanted to turn around and hit your head against the brick wall, hoping maybe if you did it enough times this would all make sense. Although you doubted that.

"So you just.. lost interest?" You didn't want to ask, you wish you didn't care.

"No." He shook his head instantly, stepping forward. You would've stepped back if your feet didn't feel glued to the ground, and if his eyes werent burning into yours, as if they were trying to tell you something that his words couldn't.

"No- I am- So interested."

You closed your eyes, because you were sure if you didn't you would scream.

“I know— Thats not fair and I am confusing you— I am confused too.” He stepped closer again. You could almost feel his body heat and the height of him cascading a shadow over you, blocking the streetlight from your vision, not that you needed it because your eyes remained closed.

You sighed, dragging your hands down your face. If this situation were to happen eight month ago, you would’ve turned around on your heels and left without a second thought, refusing to let this hurt you, refusing to care for someone so deeply again, but this wasn’t happening eight months ago, it was happening now, and you did care about Spencer, so incredibly much. It was almost embarrassing. You were embarrassed about how much you cared.

“So is it a commitment thing?” You mumbled through your hands, you just needed something, the rest you could make up in your head late at night before you fell asleep, pouring coffee in the morning, you could come up with an explanation that provided you with enough comfort you made be able to live with the unknowing.

“No.” He shook his head.

That didn’t help, now you were more confused. If it was a commitment thing, you could understand, but it wasn’t and you didn’t understand.

“You do realise this whole conversation is useless right?” You mumbled, peeling your hands away from your face, and opening your eyes. You knew he was close, but not this close. His body was in front of yours, so close it was like a punishment, and torture at once because you had to refrain from reaching up and wrapping your arms around him, in search of the comfort that had grown absent with him.

You looked up at him, a frown on your lips. You wished you could walk away, he looked down at you, chewing at his lips for a moment as his eyes flickered along every feature of your face, committing it all to memory. “But it’s a conversation.” He barely whispered it.

Your heart tugged with so much ache you were sure you were going to die. “You’re hurting me.”

He was silent, his eyes looking into yours. He didn’t flinch at your words but you could see it in his eyes, he knew. Whether it was intentional or not, he knew he was hurting you, he knew what he was doing, and he looked like it was breaking his heart.

He hesitated, you waited. For something, anything.

“Can I kiss you?”

Thats not what you expected. And you weren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were hurt and anger dwindling around, or whether it was nerves because it was Spencer. Offering, or asking for something that only confused you more, yet you wanted to say yes.

“No- What?- Are you insane?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

He didn’t seem shocked nor hurt by your rejection. He probably expected it.

What he was shocked by, what you were also shocked by was the fact although your words, you leant up and your lips were on his before he could reply. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, or maybe it was just him.

You would regret it when you pulled away, you knew that. You would hate yourself for every second of the rest of your life when his lips parted yours, but right now, as his hands found way to your waist the moment he processed what was happening, tugging you in closer so your chest was flush against his own and his lips were pressing against yours, all thoughts of anything else left your mind.

His hands gripped at the fabric of your shirt, tangling the material through his fingers, using that to pull you impossibly closer, the movement was so familiar, because he always wanted you so close, he used to, anyways. You weren’t sure what you were thinking when your hands came to his neck, pressing against either side of it.

You definitely weren’t sure what you were thinking when your hands moved from his neck to tangle in his hair, encouraging him further into the kiss.

You were sure you weren’t thinking when your lips parted as his tongue brushed over the lining over your lips, hands squeezing your waist gently. you could feel the air leaving his nose against your lower lip, it tickled and if you weren’t kissing for the reason you were, you would’ve pulled away in a mess of laughter, because with him you could.

He hadn’t been drinking, not alcohol anyways, you knew that because you could taste the sugary syrup residue on his lips from some sort of soda. You were sure yours resembled the taste of vodka, not that you had drank a lot, actually only half of a drink, so you couldn’t even blame kissing him on being drunk, because you were completely in your right mind.

You settled for blaming emotions instead.

You were hyperaware of everything, every touch, every small breath, every movement of his lips, every soft grace of his tongue, of his scent. His scent was suffocatingly familiar, and sickeningly comforting. Your chest was constricted and you weren’t sure if it was from the messiness of his kiss as his lips pressed and moved against yours, or if it was from how you knew when you pulled away you would regret it.

When your hands tugged gently on the strands of hair tangled in your fingers, a slight groan left his lips straight against yours, the sound sent your nerves into a frenzy, and all common sense went out the window. His hands were everywhere, your back, your hair, your shoulders, your thighs.

“We are in the middle of the road.” He mumbled against your lips, not pulling away. You think he knew just as well as you did, the moment it slowed down you’d have too much time to think about it.

“Oh” you mumbled back, pressing your lips against his again, but also very aware that this was very public, although the street was dead, and quiet as the minutes ticked to a later hour, you did not necessarily want to be seen as the girl kissing her ex almost boyfriend in the middle of the street.

“How’d you get here?” He asked, his lips left yours yet before you could even have time to regret kissing him in the first place, his lips connected with your jaw, and your head and common sense remained up in the clouds, you stayed right here with him.

Your breath was heavy, chest rising and falling as your eyes fluttered closed, head tilting to allow him more space as his teeth brushed ever so gently against your jaw before his lips continued against your neck. “Uh” apparently your ability to talk was up in the clouds with the rest of your dignity.

“Uh?” He mumbled, he was teasing.

“Penelope.” You huffed out as your head tilted further, hands still in his hair, his hands still on your waist.

He hummed as his hands slipped under your shirt, pressing gently against the soft skin of your back, the touch sent shivers and goosebumps everywhere. You could feel him everywhere, you were utterly consumed by him in every aspect. “How much have you drank?” He asked.

What a question, because although you were sober and unaffected by the half of a drink you had, admitting that would mean you wouldn’t be able to blame whatever stupid decision you made on alcohol, but you knew if you lied, and said you had more than you did, he would be pulling away and making sure you got home safe.

No option was a good option but one saved your dignity and the other deprived you of him.

“Half of one.” He hummed in response.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asked, pulling away to look down at you, one hand left your back to reach for your jaw, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of cheek. Any regret in your chest seemed to be overtaken by the gentleness of his touch and the familiarity of his offer.

But you shook your head, “No- you’re not coming to my house.” You mumbled, your lips were still tingling with the sensation of his, you didn’t want him at your house, not anymore. It had taken you a while to even let him there in the first place, he had lost the right to your home. Apparently he would always have the right to you though, even if it was embarrassingly so. “Take me to yours?”

[afterglowsainz]

Spotify special- Pepe marti with #27

p.s. I love all your work!!! 💓💓💓

why’d i have to break what i love so much? | pepe marti

song; afterglow - taylor swift

a/n: thank you so much!! 🤍

part of the spotify wrapped special

Sometimes you wondered if there was a way to cure self-sabotage. And if there was, what would you have to give to heal yourself?

You didn’t understand why this always happened. Why, whenever you were in a relationship and things were going well, you felt the need to ruin it. You knew you deserved to be happy, so why couldn’t you allow it? Why did you always have to mess it up? You always did something, always blew things out of proportion, always started arguments, to the point where other people just couldn’t keep forgiving you. And so, you stayed alone.

Pepe had never given you any reason to doubt him; he was so good to you, so loyal and honest. Sometimes you felt like he was too good for you. Or was that just your insecurity taking over? No, he was too good for you. Or was he exactly the right person for you? God, why did you always have to doubt everything? He was literally the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, and here you were, arguing with him because you thought he was flirting with a girl at a race.

“She was just a fan; she only wanted a picture,” the Spaniard defended himself for the third time.

“I don’t believe you,” you said, even though halfway through the argument, you realized you might be coming across as crazy. But you had to stick to your point; you couldn’t back down so easily.

Pepe didn’t see it the same way.

“Alright, think whatever you want, y/n,” he sighed, tired. “I’ve already told you what happened. When you calm down and want to talk, I’ll be in my room.”

He walked out of your room and into his, and you instantly regretted letting him go. You regretted starting the fight—regretted everything. Why did you have to punish him for your own insecurities? Why couldn’t you just be happy?

One cup of coffee and two episodes of Gossip Girl later, you knew you had to apologize. You hadn’t been fair to him; you almost never were. You didn’t know where he found the willpower to forgive you and stay with you when he could’ve left long ago. But you were grateful he stayed. You loved him.

When you knocked on his door, he answered in his pajamas and invited you in. The moment he closed the door behind you, you couldn’t hold back your words.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” you began. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I… I never mean to hurt you or make you feel bad. It’s all me, really—it’s all in my head, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to lose this with you.” Your nerves made you stutter, and seeing his furrowed brow made you even more nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Pepe didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into one of the hugs you loved so much.

“I know,” he said, kissing your head. “I know you’re sorry, and of course, I forgive you.” You let out a sigh of relief at his words. “I’ll always be yours, y/n. We’ll be okay, even if you go a little crazy sometimes.” You playfully hit his chest at that comment, and he laughed. “I know what’s going on with you, and I know it’s not your fault, but you’re everything I want. Even if you break my heart sometimes, I’m not going anywhere.”

He cupped your cheeks and sealed his words with a kiss full of reassurance.

Screw self-sabotaging—this was the real thing.

[valardohaeriss]

Picture you 2 - C.S

It's me again...and I'm back. Anyways here we go with part two. just ask if you want to be a part of the tag list.

pairing: Modern Cregan Stark x fem!Reader

warnings: none

"Do you picture me like I picture you?"

------------------

"So tell me about this guy that you want to ask you to formal." Cregan asks as he lays on your bed and throws a ball up at the ceiling. You sat at your desk, distracting yourself with homework, something Cregan should be doing. You closed your eyes at his question, hoping to find a quick lie.

"I mean, he's cool." was all you could squeeze out. Cool? that was it. C'mon, if you were going to lie, you have to think of a better one than that. "Cool?" Cregan asked with a cocked eyebrow as he sat himself up. You could feel his stare in the back of your head. You turned to look at him and threw one arm over the back of the chair. The minute you looked at him, all of the adjectives you needed came to your mind.

"Fine, he's smart, very smart. He doesn't give himself enough credit for it. He's tall, He's kind, even though he probably doesn't think of himself that way. He's the type of person that if you didn't have anything, he'd give you the shirt off of his own back." You said in one breath. It didn't take much for you to describe your feelings for Cregan.

He looked at you, shocked at your feelings. He didn't know you felt this strongly about someone. He didn't even really know you liked people like that. "Wow." was all he could say. You rolled your eyes and turned around. "What's his name?" He asked you.

You clenched the pen in your hand, mentally cursing yourself. "Does it matter?" you asked. "He doesn't feel the same way, I really should just drop it. I'll just go to formal for Baela. It was her idea anyway." you continued on. Cregan threw the ball at your back in a playful manner. "What was that for?" you turned around and asked him. All he could do was chuckle and cross his arms. "We're going to get him to ask you out. You don't know how he feels about you. Trust me, I know guys. He's probably thinking the same thing you are. You just have to talk to him."

Boy he was not making this any easier. If he looked close enough at you, you swore he could have either seen a vein in your head or your eye twitch. "Cregan, please. Drop it. I'll just stick with Baela the whole time."

"You can't stick with Baela, Baela will be with Jace." he stated, and he had a point. How were you going to be looking for the mystery guy, when the mystery guy himself was sitting on your bed. "I know what I'll do," he started. "I'll get Jace to help me out. We'll get you this guy on a date in no time."

You could have thrown up. He was already pulling out his phone to text Jace about it. Now not only did you spin this little lie, you've spun it into a web with people. The only thing was you had no idea how to get out.

Baela...

Yes Baela would help you. She was your ride or die, and surely she'd know what to do.

"Hey, look, I'll see you later. Jace and I are going to meet up. He said something about Baela coming over here anyways so I'll let you have your time with her. But seriously, you should keep me updated on this guy. You won't be single for long." he winks at you and you could have melted.

"Idiot"...you thought. "You smart, handsome, kind man...but what an idiot"

----

"So you mean to tell me... you spun this little lie, and you expect me to help you out of it?" Baela asks you as you just explained your situation with Cregan, that has at this point, gone a little too far. "Baela, please, he plans on getting Jace in on this too and I don't know how to explain that the person they have been looking for this whole time has been Cregan himself." you sighed and cradled your head in your hands.

"You should have just been honest with him. Why weren't you?" she asked, pulling your arms away from you. "Because I know he doesn't feel the same. So I might as well get over it now. I'm trying, but now I'm stuck. I wish I would have just not said anything at all." You groaned. Truly, you wish you would had just said you weren't going to go and everything was fine and left it at that. Then you wouldn't be here. But no, you ran your mouth, getting a bit too comfortable.

"How about, I find out how he actually feels and we ease our way into this. I'll be your actual wingwoman." She smiled at you and for a second, you had hope that this would all be resolved. You could get over Cregan and continue on like nothing ever happened.

---

Baela sat next to Jace and Cregan at the dining hall. Cregan and Jace were having their typical conversations as usual, until Jace had to leave for his next class, that left him and Baela together. Now washer chance to move forward. "Cregan? What's this I hear about you helping y/n get a date to formal?"

Cregan smirked and stopped packing his things. "Yeah, she told me about this guy that she likes, and she must really like him. I mean she smiles every time she talks about him. She just won't tell me what his name is or anything. She thinks he doesn't feel the same, but she said he was going to be at the formal, so I was planning on finding him and talking to him myself. A wingman kind of thing, ya know?" He beamed, proud of his plan.

Baela tried hard not to drop her smile. She could not believe this guy. How could he not know it was him. "How do you feel about that?" She asked him. He hadn't been asked that before and it caused his brows to furrow. "I don't think I'm following?"

"How do you feel knowing that you're helping her find someone else?" Baela smirked. Cregan hadn't thought about it. He was more concerned with helping you be happy than he was his own feelings. He cared about you, and if helping you find someone else made you happy, then he'd do it. "Baela, this isn't about me." He deflected as he started to pack his things.

"Cregan, have you talked to Jace about her? I mean about how you feel about her?" She asked him. He hadn't, he hadn't told anyone. It didn't matter to him, he knew you didn't feel the same way. Clearly, to him, you were on the hunt for someone else. Someone that obviously made you smile bigger than he ever has.

His silence answered Baela's question. "I think you need to talk to her before formal. You have two days. I would do it. Don't let this go on any further." She advised him. Cregan shook his head not taking her advice. To his knowledge, you didn't bat an eye at him. He wasn't going to let his feelings get in the way of your happiness, that would be selfish. That is something he was not.

"I'm serious, Cregan. It's worth the shot." Baela said one last time before leaving for home. Cregan had a lot to think about. Did he tell you how he felt? Did he ruin his friendship with you for the sake of feelings? Did he block your happiness with someone else for the sake of his own? He couldn't. So he wouldn't.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 2

Benny Cross X Female Reader A/n: part 1 is here! Word Count: 2014 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup

Fifteen months. That was all it took for you to find Benny, love him, and lose him. The easy version of your story went like this: it was Kathy Bauer’s fault. Simple as pie, like your mama used to say. 

The truth was a lot different. The truth was messy and it hurt a hell of a lot more. Because the truth was that you hadn’t lost Benny at all. To lose something, you have to have it in the first place. And when you were being really honest with yourself, you knew that you never had Benny Cross. You had as much of a claim to him as a kite does to the wind. That was to say, none at all. 

You didn’t like the truth. But, you weren’t the kind of girl who could live a lie either. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran away. Kathy Bauer’s first night in the Vandals bar was early November, Benny broke it off with you in early December. You spent Christmas drunk and stoned. And by New Years, you were gone. 

You thought putting Chicago - and Benny - in the rearview mirror would help. You’d banked on it helping. Running was your only plan. There wasn’t any other choice, really. Sure, some of the Vandals had pitched you on sticking around, club president Johnny among them. Your waitressing pal Sheila had asked you to move in with her, given that you were now two months’ behind on rent without Benny’s side-hustle cash around to help pay the bills. Hell, Cal had even offered you a soft place to land on the left side of his queen sized mattress. 

None of those offers had tempted you for even an instant. So, while the rest of America was counting down the final seconds of 1965 from their couches, you were sitting on the back of your fully customized Sportster, driving like a bat out of hell on the back roads leading west out of Chicago. Your only destination was the fuck out of here. 

It took you fifteen months to figure out what love was and to lose it again. You weren’t sure how long it was going to take you to do something approximating move on, but you figured it would be a lot longer than fifteen months. And you were right.

***********************

Your phone rang at 3:13am in the morning on September 19th, 1969. The first thing you thought was that your daddy must have finally died. Sonofabitch had been fighting a chainsmoker’s strain of lung cancer for almost six months now, and damn had it been a hard fight. Your mama had actually begged you not to come home and see him. Nothin’ you can do here, baby she said in her soft, sad voice each time you called and asked if you should come home. Your daddy, for his part, couldn’t talk anymore, on account of the laryngectomy the doctors gave him a few weeks prior. He’d declined one of those robotic voice boxes. Figured he’d said all he needed to at this point. Nobody wanted to hear the ramblings of an old biker on death’s door at this point. Especially himself.

But it wasn’t your mama’s voice on the other end. It was Johnny Davis.

“Hey, kid.” Not a question, not a hey, how are ya. It had been almost four years since the last time you’d talked to Johnny. Four years since you’d last seen a Vandals cutte. You wished you could say it had been that long since you’d thought about the club, but that would be a damn lie. Your mind drifted back to a certain handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed biker almost every day. 

It took you a minute to place the voice on the other end. It was familiar in the way a dream is familiar, but between the fog of leftover whiskey, a deep sleep, and buried memories, it didn’t come to you quickly.

“Who’s this?” you asked, wiping the tired out of your eyes.

“Oh, uh, well. It’s Johnny.” 

There it was.

“Johnny? Johnny Davis?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me, kid. Listen. How you been?”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, sad chuckle. The easy answer to that question was oh, I been alright Johnny, you? But the truth was something more like, well Johnny, let’s see, since I last saw you in Chicago I’ve been on the road pretty much constantly for four years, running for so long I can’t tell if I’m running to or away from something, much less what that thing is. I’ve picked up about a dozen bad habits, like drinking too much and riding too fast and going home with the first guy who’ll buy me a brew at a bar. Oh, and by the way, my daddy’s dying. 

But Johnny didn’t deserve your bitterness. Especially not at 3:14 in the morning. 

“You know me, Johnny, I’ve been doin’ just fine. Why’re you callin’ so early?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. An image of Johnny, taking a deep drag on one of those Pall Malls he loved to smoke, came to you in the darkness. In the quiet of his reply, you heard a dense grief. You braced yourself for what you were sure was bad news and flicked on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. Next to you, the latest biker boy of the week stirred grumpily and waved at you to turn the light off. You ignored him, throwing off the covers and dangling your feet over the side of your mattress.

“Well, kid. It’s Brucie.”

Brucie. It took the air out of your lungs. You could have named a half-dozen Vandals you’d expect to kick the bucket before Brucie. Zipco, Wahoo, Corky. Hell, even Johnny himself. And Benny, of course. You couldn’t help but feel the knot in your chest relax an inch to know that Johnny wasn’t calling to tell you that it was Benny. But damnitall, Brucie? Careful, pragmatic, thoughtful Brucie? What the fuck was Gail gonna do?

“Brucie? What the fuck happened?”

Another jagged inhale on the other end. Johnny was crying, you realized. It gutted you.

“Oh, you know. 1967 Pontiac came outta nowhere, you know, just caught him in a bad way. It’s always the ones you don’t see comin’, y’know? Fuckin’ Pontiac.”

“Jesus, Johnny. Brucie? Shit.”

You lit a cigarette of your own as you let your mind wander back to your time in Chicago. Brucie was solid, Johnny’s right-hand man and a kind, gentle sorta guy. You’d liked him instantly, and Gail too. Real good folk. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been hard, y’know, I mean, club is real beat up over it.”

“Fuck, Johnny, I don’t even know whatta say. I’m so sorry.”

You and Johnny took matching drags and tried to swipe away your tears. The guy in your bed next to you rolled over and fixed you with a bleary-eyed glare. You couldn’t remember his name - Steve, maybe. You covered the receiver with your hand, told  him to get the fuck out, and drank down the last swallow of whiskey in the only upright glass on your nightstand.

“Yeah, well, I ‘preciate that, kid, I really do. Listen, we’re havin’ a get together for Brucie. Next weekend. Entire club, all charters gonna be there. Invited a few others, too. Ones that knew Brucie. I know he’d want you there.”

Of all the things Johnny had said to you tonight, this was the one that stole the air from your lungs. Go back to Chicago, to the Vandals? You weren’t sure how you’d do that. Or if you physically could. 

“Aw, shit Johnny. I dunno…”

“I know you got history here,” Johnny interrupted quickly. “I know you got… I know you got a lot you’re tryin’ not to come back to. I get it.” 

Lots of people might have tried to tell you they understood how you felt. You’d opened up about Benny to a few people since you’d left Chicago. Most people you met on the road were a little bit broken, like you. They were running, just like you, and they weren’t strangers to heartbreak and dead-endings and being fucked over. But, no matter how many times you tried to tell your story, you just never felt like you got it right. So nobody really understood it, because you weren’t sure you did. But Johnny? Johnny didn’t need to hear you tell it. He’d watched it happen. Maybe he really did get it.

Still, was that enough for you to go back? Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. Behind you, maybe-Steve was dragging himself out of bed, untangling his clothes from yours, and doing a shitty job of trying to stay quiet. 

“You think about it, aight? But I know you’ll come. For Brucie.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Johnny was right. ‘Course you’d go back for Brucie. 

“Aight well, I’ll let ya go then. Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“Johnny, wait.” 

He hesitated. “Yeah, kid?”

“How’d you get my number?” 

There were about a million questions you wanted to ask Johnny, although you knew yourself enough at this point to know that you wouldn’t want the answers. So you asked the safest one you could think of.

He chuckled softly. “I keep an eye on my friends,” he replied cryptically before he said goodnight again, and the line went dead. You wished you knew what that meant, although just knowing that there was someone out there in the darkness who cared for you enough to go to the trouble of checking in with whatever backwater charters you shacked up with (because realistically that was the only way Johnny would ever be able to keep up with you) made your heart warm. 

“Who the fuck was that?” demanded maybe-Steve. He was halfway out the door of the dingy room you’d rented in this roadside motel, hoping you might still ask him to stay. 

“Old friend,” you said brusquely as you stood up and threw an old tshirt over your bare chest, heading for the door behind him. “Time for you to hit the road,” you told him by way of invitation, pointing towards his bike in the parking lot. 

“It’s fuckin’ 3:30 in the mornin’, you sure I can’t just sleep it off here?” 

“Nah, fuck that. Get lost.” 

He grimaced and spat thickly on the ground. For an instant you wondered if he was going to give you trouble, but he just shook his head in disgust and left you there to curl up on the rickety plastic chair outside your motel room with plans to chain-smoke until sunrise. You watched him go, his tail light streaking across the long, dark, flat expanse of Iowa farmland until it melted with blackness around it. Your mind was fluttering with all kinds of memories and thoughts that Johnny’s voice had stirred up. Rather than try and fight it, you let yourself sink beneath the surface and zone out, wading through a chapter of your life that you’d deluded yourself into believing was over. The sun had climbed up over the horizon by the time you came back to yourself with a bleak glance around the ramshackle motel. Your Sportster was gleaming like a lighthouse over in the corner of the lot under the only tree around for miles, a huge black walnut that seemed to be holding up its branches and asking the sky to sweep it up and take it away from here. Exactly how you felt. 

Unable to fight against yourself anymore, you splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair up, shoved your belongings into the leather saddlebags you’d been living out of for the last four years, and got on the back of your Sportster. As soon as you kickstarted your bike, you knew where you were going. Straight back to Chicago, back to the Vandals, to Benny. Straight back home.

read part 3 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

[itsabouttimex2]

Deep Sea Sympathies

Yandere Sun Wukong

(Syntax alphabet is up next, then an LSO + Primal . Feeling super down, so I wrote something a little sadder. The villain tiers post I spent two days writing and rewriting again and again got anonymously sent to another user, who skimmed the majority of it, left out my opening and ending points, and called at least one of my criticisms “ridiculous” and even has a reblogger claiming that I “hate Macaque”, that I want “everyone to hate Macaque” and that I’m “salty”. Maybe it’s childish, but that kind of hurts when I’ve spent literal months making content for the show (often involving Macaque) that I genuinely love. I only wrote that list because I wanted to give my honest opinions as a break from my usual content as I prepared to watch and write for Season Five. Maybe I’m in the wrong and my rant was just stupid? Do you guys want me to delete the “Season Five Prep” posts?)

“I still can’t believe MK got me back into this,” the simian before you chuckles. “But I’m kinda glad he did. I really missed drawing. I forgot how good it felt.”

“…I see,” you “answer”, maintaining a stiff and poised position, staring down at the collection of utensils that the hero is using. “Are you… having fun, then?”

“Aww, bud. Come and take a seat, okay? Look, I’ll even put out a little mat for you. Come and take a seat,” he invites, plucking one of his transforming ginger hairs to make a proper cushion for you.

His tail winds lazily around your leg, tugging you closer and closer to the squishy orange padding.

“C’mon, bud,” he says, cutting through your hesitation. His voice has a powerful edge under all the sweetness- reminding you that the Monkey King is someone you can’t say no to. “I want you to draw with me, kiddo.”

Wukong is fond of this- pulling you into little “bonding sessions” that take up the whole day and leave you without time to spend with anyone else.

It’s funny, though, really- you are the last person that need be manipulated away from others.

“The Great Witch of Gloom,” was the title that you had been assigned. Before you had a name, before you had taken a step, before you had so much as uttered a cry… your fate had been decided.

You were to be a wicked soul with dark motives and a darker heart.

As old memories flood into your ever weary mind, Wukong arranges a few sheets of paper in front your mat. The grip of his tail slowly tightens, and you cease all stalling.

Lowering yourself to the ground, the mat provides a cozy cradle to shield against the cold wooden floor.

“…it’s almost Winter,” you mildly comment, tracing a finger against a smooth plank. “It’s getting colder.”

“Oh,” the simian casually asks, scooting his mat closer to yours, “you like the snow?” Here’s chance he always adores- any rare tidbit of info you offer is a chance for him to spoil you, stocking up on presents and snacks in an attempt to drown you in platonic love.

It didn’t help that you always felt so indebted after he was done stacking gifts into your arms and bag.

“So, bud- what’re you gonna draw?”

The curiosity in his voice is almost innocent, almost sweet. He pushes the multi-tiered box of crayons towards you, smiling.

“C’mon, pick a few out!”

Awkwardly; and with a shaking hand to boot, you reach for the box.

It’s… not a comfortable sensation. Waxy paper around thick wax sticks makes for an awkward feeling in your hand, and you slightly recoil from the hueless cylinder.

“Aww, kiddo. No one draws with white- heck, you’d be better off eating it! Not that I’ve, uh, ever done that.”

“…I don’t know what to do,” is your blank confession that leaves Wukong quirking an eyebrow.

“What, you don’t know how to draw? You’vd never had… oh. Oh, kiddo.”

Realization colors his golden eyes, leaving the simian king with a sympathetic frown. Your parents wouldn’t have ever let you have something as fun and bright as crayons, would they? How could he have forgotten that?

It had been a nightmare for the Monkie Kids to pry information out of you, and a further mess to try pushing you towards a healing state.

And, honestly- Wukong’s doting ministrations really didn’t help. All the love and gifts in the world could not undo your traumas- but certainly left you feeling as though you were mired in debt.

Not that you had the words to voice those feelings, leaving Wukong to continue piling on with his affections- all in the futile hope that he could love away the demons of your past.

“Okay, bud. Maybe we stepped out of your comfort zone, huh? Alright, my bad. Tell me what you wanna draw, and I’ll pick out the crayons for you, okay?”

“…I don’t know what to draw, though.”

His frown deepens. It’s hard to think that someone as young as you could be so… he wouldn’t say broken. That was far, far too cruel a word for someone he loved so dearly. You were… “cracked”, maybe. A little “tarnished”.

Like you had given up on seeing a light at the end of the tunnel and decided to instead drift slowly along in a dark ocean.

…actually…

“Bud, don’t you like the beach? C’mon, why don’t you draw something from there, yeah?”

“…could I?”

Your little words break his heart. You shouldn’t have to feel like you need permission for something as simple as drawing a damn picture. But you *do*, so he answers with false cheer-

“Of course, kiddo! Draw anything you want!”

“…how do… how would I draw… a jellyfish?”

Finally, a real smile graces his lips.

“I didn’t know you liked jellyfish,” he says, in a too familiar voice that lets you know you’ll be receiving a loaded armful of themed plushes and stress toys in the very near future.

Another load of guilt, another load of debt.

“I’ll take you to an aquarium one day,” he tacks on, unaware of your growing insecurities. “And we can look at them together.”

To him, this is healing. Love and affection and unending comfort.

And certainly, Wukong is far better a guardian than your parents were. Instead of blaming you for powers you couldn’t control, he was always ready with praise and applause. Instead of resigning yourself to rotted garments rummaged from the trash, you had brand-new clothes and warm shoes. You were never hungry. You were never bored. You were never alone.

And, above all else- you were loved.

But you were not happy.

And you doubted that would ever change.

[b-o-e]

paint me like one of your french girls

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: you aren’t very good at painting lol

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #2 :)

You weren’t the best painter, nor were you the best at picking up hints…

“... this is atrocious.”

You were not a painter. You were finding that much out right now.

“Well, don’t say that. It has me in it, so it can't be that bad, ha ha.” Wally jested.

Ehhh…

“Are you almost finished with it, neighbour?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m finished, but I’m almost ready to give up, yes,” you grumbled, the bristles of your brush carefully swiping some more paint onto the canvas. Yikes! Not carefully enough, it seems.

Wally noticed your grimace, laughing lightly. “It’s going to look good, I know it,” he claimed.

“You’re easily pleased, though,” you huffed, eyes flickering to him in a half-hearted glare. He giggled, shaking his head.

“I am honest,” he grinned, raising his right hand to swear on it. “Cross my heart, always and forever,” he promised, drawing the ‘x’ over his chest with a happy smile.

“At least I think I did Home some justice,” you snickered with a shrug. “You, not so much, Wally. I think you can still tell it’s you, though?”

“I’m sure I look amazing. Handsome!”

“I wouldn’t use that word for it, but the real you is?” You offered.

“Why, you’ll make me blush.”

You laughed lightly as you continued to paint, Wally remaining as still as a statue in his chosen position in front of home. His eyes never left you.

He loved the expressions you made. He just adored the twitch of your brow when you don’t quite approve of a detail, the silly grimace you wear when you’ve made a ‘mistake’, the way your tongue poked out a little when you were extra focussed... You were so entrancing!

“... going to start being a bit less uptight now,”

Wally hadn’t caught the first part, but figured out what you were saying.

“I guess I should probably give myself a little more credit than I am.” A little smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Oh! He enjoyed that expression most!

“I’m happy you say that,” Wally said, “I do mean it when I say I believe I will like it. Everyone has their own unique style. It’s nothing less than that,” he added, “plus, it’s made by you. That gives it extra special points!”

“Special, alright,” you joked quietly to yourself. It was definitely a unique piece, your painting.

“I just need to remind myself I don’t have much experience with this,” you sighed, “I need to cut myself some slack. I know practice is necessary to be as good as someone like you at this, and I haven’t put much of that in,”

“And if you were ever interested in such, I would always be around to offer my help if you so desire,” Wally assured.

“Thanks, Wally,” you tore your eyes away from your work, looking over at him. “I appreciate you. Always so sweet to me,” you sighed out dramatically. Unfortunately, your gaze didn't stick on him long enough to notice the redness growing on his cheeks from your compliments.

“Alas, I think I’m all done now,” you giggled, stepping back from your work. Now that you look it over, it really wasn’t too shabby, especially with your limited skill!

Wally stood up from his spot, starting his way over, as you turned the easel around so that he and Home could both see it. When Wally was close enough, he leaned forward a little, examining the painted canvas. Despite the knowledge that Wally would never judge you, your nerves twisted a little in your stomach as you watched his eyes study it with such intensity.

It was silent. He’s observed it for at least a minute now, not a word said.

…

“I know it’s-”

“It’s wonderful,” Wally cut you off, straightening his posture, his smile growing. “The absolute most, as is its creator,” he added as he looked at you. “Can I have it?” he asked, head tipping to the side.

“You… Want it?” you giggled sheepishly, peering over at your goofy little creation. Was it really nice enough for him to want to keep it?

“I love it, so of course I would like to have it. If you allow me to, of course,”

Your painting wasn’t much. To you, at least. To Wally on the other hand, it truly was extravagant.

It was cute. He and Home were nicely depicted together, Home painted quite well, and in his opinion, he himself had not looked nearly as bad as you’d been letting on.

His face had a cute, simple little smiley on it, as did the sun in the sky, two silly little features among others that you had added when you decided not to care so much anymore. It made him giggle. Overall, it was just yours, and that’s what really sealed the deal on his love for it.

“Hmm… where should I hang it, though? Maybe by the couch?” He wondered aloud, tapping his chin. “What do you think, Home?” He turned to face it, receiving quick excited waves and squeaks from the door. “Ha ha. I think that, too.”

“You actually want it?” You questioned,

“Of course,” Wally nodded. “Oh no! How impolite of me. I should be offering some sort of payment,” he realized.

“For this?” You laughed, looking back at the artwork. “I dont think it’s worth a whole lo–”

“Mwah!”

…

Huh?

You gaped at Wally, hand on your flushed cheek, right where his lips had been moments prior.

“Will that do?” He smiled.

You could only stare in disbelief, mind working overtime to process what had just happened.

“Neighbour?”

You laughed. You laughed, and you shook your head, hands covering your face. Oh, those silly little thoughts of yours!

“Oh my goodness, Wally,” you snickered. “Be careful with that! Someone might take it the wrong way,” you warned, a little giggle following.

“What do you mean, neighbour?” Wally questioned, brows furrowed. “Is kissing not a good thing?”

“I mean, it is, but there's two ways it can be perceived: platonically, or romantically,” you explained, rubbing at your face in an attempt to get rid of your blush with a cheeky smile.

“Think of it like this. Eddie and Frank kiss as a way to show their romantic love for each other. That's because they’re a couple,” you continued. “Are they who you learned it from?”

Wally stared at you for a moment, trying to comprehend all that you’ve said. Finally, his shoulders slumped slightly as he answered.

“... Yes,” he admitted, a bashful smile on his features.

“I figured,” you sniggered. “I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t like it or anything, but just keep what I said in mind,” you joked lightly with a playful wink, “but, we should find a place for this painting, shouldn’t we?” You placed your hands on your hips, looking between him and the piece.

“That sounds like a good idea, neighbour,” he agreed, carefully picking up the dried painting, grabbing the easel in his other hand.

“Let’s do that, then,”

…

“So, how did it go?” Eddie asked, placing a toasty mug of hot cocoa in front of a sulking Wally. “Not that great, I presume..?” He smiled sympathetically.

“They said to ‘be careful’ because ‘someone might get the wrong idea’...” he gave a gloomy smile. “But they also said they ‘didn’t dislike’ it?” He offered.

“So they thought the right idea, but brushed it off as being wrong,” Frank snickered, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation while he sipped on a mug of his own.

Eddie sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck with a chuckle. This was harder than the couple originally anticipated…

You two would be the death of this neighbourhood if you didn’t perceive your feelings for each other soon.

yyyello!! I hope you enjoyed reading this!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me! likes and reblogs are very much so appreciated B) (again, gimme dopamine boost, RAHHHHH) until next time <3

Posted Tuesday, April 25, 2023 at 11:29 AM

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part seven

part eight: i think about jumping off of very tall somethings

Eddie was fully convinced he had lost whatever remaining dignity he might have had when his friends had found him sunken into his beanbag chair with random detritus strewn around the room. He really thought he could not feel any lower than when Ronnie made it more obvious than necessary that she was picking her way through Eddie's junk to stick a hand into his nest and pull him out by his collar. He thought that was rock bottom, but being early for coffee with Robin and Nancy and having to wait with a cooling americano he spent way too much money on really gave that whole experience a run for its money.

Ronnie had suggested dming Robin and Nancy and testing the waters to see if they would be willing to broker some sort of reunion with Steve. Eddie stared at her like she had suggested he deliver the one ring to mordor alone; however, she obviously had a point since the newly announced couple suggested meeting up.

"Hey! Eddie! Sorry we're late!" Robin caught Eddie's attention as Nancy went to order.

"Oh, uh, no worries," Eddie fumbled, "I'm just happy you're here at all honest."

"I mean, Nance said it's only fair to hear you out but you were fucking brutal to my best friend, dude, so like the window to give you some grace is pretty fucking small," Robin answered.

"No, yeah totally understood. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Why don't you just explain what happened from your side of things. From our angle, you look like kind of a douche but also I feel like maybe Steve didn't handle things great either? I dunno. I mean, you made him really happy, if we have a chance to fix that, I think I owe it to Steve, right?" Robin answered.

"Sure, yeah, no that makes sense," Eddie started as Nancy sat down with her and Robin's drinks.

"Keep going, Eddie, this is mostly Robin's thing anyway," Nancy prompted. She did not look quite as open to fixing things as Robin did and Eddie felt a little more nervous after he let himself relax in Robin's easy presence.

"For sure, so like obviously you know all of the like tabloid bullshit about Steve and whatever and like I kind of got it and understood but then without any warning I show up and Steve's like gorgeous and super successful ex was just on his couch and Steve isn't willing to explain? I mean that was pretty fucking hard to swallow," Eddie finished a little less certain of where he stood with Robin as she narrowed her eyes over her tea.

"So instead of trusting Steve and listening to him when he told you how much the tabloids have lied about him throughout his career you let the fact that I was present in his home be enough to trump years of what you all had built?" Nancy questioned. Eddie could see her journalism chops coming out.

"That's fair. I mean, I definitely acted without a lot of thought but like, why wouldn't you have looped me in? Did you guys not trust me?" Eddie asked still trying to figure out why he was left flat footed all those weeks ago.

"I think that might be on me," Robin piped up, "I was pretty nervous about coming out and I think Steve was being super protective and didn't want to ask me to come out to more people than I was wanting to. It's not that he didn't trust you, Eddie, it's that we had some pretty shitty years with different agents trying to push me in different directions and I think he just was sick of feeling like outside forces were making me move quicker than I was ready to. And it's not like you made it easy on him to reach out to you after. How was he supposed to respond when you blocked him on literally every platform?"

"I guess I didn't think he would want to explain or he'd try to like explain everything away even though it had seemed obvious at the time he was cheating on me," Eddie paused when both Robin and Nancy threw death glares across the table, "Jeez, I know now that was stupid but at the time it was the only rational I could see."

"I guess we should stop interrogating you, you do seem pretty serious, otherwise I don't think you would have agreed to meet both of us," Nancy jumped in.

"I really regret cutting him off like I did. I know I got way too in my head about everything immediately and just didn't give it time or let him respond," Eddie tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.

"We believe you, you two are both dinguses," Robin cut in, "more importantly, what are we going to do about that fucking song and how the hell do you propose apologizing for all the shit you stirred?"

"I thought we were done with the interrogation," Eddie held his hands up.

"Only about whether or not you're genuine, you still have to figure out how you are putting my bestie back together," Robin answered.

"So about that. I have a couple ideas. One, I feel like a song got us into this mess and my label wants more music anyways so I am kind of thinking of an apology song. The rest of my band has actually started workshopping some stuff with me to try to put it together as soon as we can. I'm kind of hoping to release it before Steve gets back so we are a bit under the clock," Eddie began, "And second, that's where I was kind of hoping you guys could help. I don't want to like ambush the guy but I also don't know if Steve will be interested in meeting with me or like ready to start dating again. I was kind of hoping I could crash one of your movie nights? Maybe once Steve gets settled a bit more?"

"Steve is not the best with surprises," Robin thought aloud, "but that's not a no, it's a convince me."

"I just figure he'll be in his space and relaxed and he also fully has an out to have you kick me out if he isn't interested. If he is, I was kind of hoping you too would be willing to make yourselves scarce?" Eddie hoped that was enough.

Surprisingly, Nancy was the one to answer.

"I think we have a deal, Munson," Nancy stuck her hand out for Eddie to shake.

Eddie left the cafe feeling more hopeful than he had in some time.

part nine

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast

@mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82

@lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog @counting-dollars-counting-stars @bookworm0690

(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[obsessedwithceleste]

Flowers

soft! Mattheo Riddle x reader

Summary: You just wanted your boyfriend to buy you flowers. He got a bit confused along the way.

word count: 1.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You’d never been the type of girl who particularly enjoyed flashy, grand gestures. In fact, the mere thought of all eyes on you as a boy professed his undying love for you made you want to toss yourself off of the astronomy tower. And yet, here you were, watching as Lorenzo Berkshire presented your best friend, Daphne Greengrass, with yet another huge bouquet of gorgeous flowers and wishing your own boyfriend would do the same.

You let out a soft sigh, glancing at your boyfriend whose arm was wrapped securely around your shoulders as the two of you lounged on the sofa in the library. Matteo wasn’t a bad boyfriend by any means. Really, you loved the way he showered you in attention, always eager to please. However, he wasn’t exactly up to speed when it came to romantic gestures. Normally you didn’t mind, but every girl wanted to be treated like a princess sometimes you supposed.

“Oh Enz, these are beautiful!” Daphne gushed, giving her boyfriend a peck on the lips as he smiled adoringly down at her.

“Anything for you love,” the boy replies easily, taking the seat next to her, and pulling her in so that she was leaning into him.

“Geez, get a bloody room would you?” Theodore complains as the two cozy up together.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “Shut it Theo, I think it’s sweet.” You then turn to your own boyfriend. “You know Matteo, Enz gets Daphne flowers every week. I wish you did that.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a confused look.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod earnestly. “I think it’d be nice.”

Matteo gives you another concerned glance before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, love.” He says, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You smile warmly at the boy, resting your head on his shoulder before continuing your reading for ancient runes.

“I’m proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself, y/n.” Daphne says, placing her bag down as she takes a seat next to you in the Great Hall.

“Oh? What chapter did we miss?” Pansy asks from across the table where she and Astoria sat.

You furrow your eyebrows, also confused as to where Daph was going with this.

“In the library this afternoon, y/n finally got on Matt’s case about how he never does anything romantic for her. I mean, you’ve been together for what? Almost a year? And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring you flowers. Not once!” Daphne says, filling her plate.

“Oh. I mean, I really don’t mind all that much to be honest. You and Enzo just always look so sweet, I thought it’d be nice for a change. I don’t really expect him to do it every week like Enzo does,” you reply.

“See, but it’s the principle of it all isn’t it? Of course I like the fact that Draco is constantly buying me random gifts, but I would be fine without them. It’s that he’s thinking of me, and taking a bit of time to go out of his way to show me that, yeah?” Astoria says.

You tilt your head, considering your friend’s words.

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” you tell her.

“Well you should. The bloody bullshit we put up with dating those boys, buying us nice things is really the least they can do,” she replies.

You let out a snort, laughing at your friend’s candidness.

As if to illustrate her point, the rowdy laughter of the boys could be heard from the entrance as they made their way over to your table. You frown as Matteo takes his usual place beside you, seeing a fresh cut on his cheekbone.

“Matteo Bartholomew Riddle.” You sigh, reaching up to touch his face.

“Bartholomew? Bloody hell mate, I’d have to avada myself with a middle name like that,” Draco laughs, plopping down next to Astoria.

He doesn’t even flinch as your finger tips make contact with the cut, only sighing as he glares at Draco before looking down at you with his large puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck off Lucius. And you know that isn’t even my middle name, love,” he says, reaching across the table to steal a roll from Theo’s plate.

“Well you won’t tell me your real one, so I’ll continue making up ridiculous ones until then. Now what on earth did you get up to now, and how many days of detention did you get?”

Matteo frowns, jutting out his bottom lip at you.

“What makes you so sure I got a detention?”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy.

“Three days. With McGonagall.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head and turn back to face Astoria whose face practically read ‘you see what I mean?’

“Man got into a scuffle with some Hufflepuff. Swear those yellow bastards look unassuming but they’re demons,” Theo says filling you and the other girls in.

Matteo glares at his friend.

“Snitch,” he mumbles, stuffing the roll into his mouth.

“Like she wasn’t going to find out anyway,” Theo replies, brushing him off.

Once again rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you focus on finishing your meal, listening to the idle chatter of your friends as Matteo’s hand finds yours under the table.

By the following week, you had all but forgotten your request for your boyfriend to bring you flowers. When you saw Matteo enter the Great Hall with a large bouquet of assorted flowers however, a smile grew across your face. Then, your smile wavered slightly, growing into confusion as Matteo made his way to the other side of the table, tapping Daphne on the shoulder.

Daphne and Enzo look back at Matteo with utter confusion as your boyfriend thrusts the flowers towards your friend.

“Uh. Here.” He says awkwardly as the two stare up at him with bewilderment.

You blink once. Then twice before Daphne breaks the silence.

“Matteo, respectfully, what the fuck?” She asks.

“Look, I don’t know either. I’m just as confused as you are,” Matteo says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

You look incredulously between your boyfriend, the flowers, and finally Daphne before realization hits you and your head drops into your hand. This bloody idiot.

“Matteo. Love. When I said, Enzo brings Daphne flowers every week, you should too, I meant for me. As in, you should bring your girlfriend flowers too,” you say with exasperation. Lord help you.

Matteo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ before he smiles sheepishly at you, rounding the table and now thrusting the flowers towards you.

“For you, my lady,” he says proudly.

You let out a laugh, accepting the flowers as your boyfriend takes his seat next to you.

“Matt you are so lucky y/n puts up with your shit,” Daphne sighs, shaking her head fondly at the two of you.

“But also, ever try giving my girl flowers again and I’ll curse your bed. I know where you sleep.” Enzo adds.

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t scared of you Berkshire you big softie.”

“I’ll Avada you.”

“I’d write you letters in Azkaban.” Daphne says sweetly as the boys continue to throw threats each other’s way.

You shake your head at your friend’s antics, smiling softly as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the flowers your boyfriend had finally presented you with.

“Thank you Matteo,” you say, briefly interrupting the boy’s loud chattering to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek.

I know this is so short, but I’ve been wanting to write this scene for the longest time, and couldn’t find a way to fit it into a longer fic 🫠

[pomegranate-pen]

Stranded. boom!sonicxfem!reader

chapter 7. captive and captivation.

masterlist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

Pink suitcases of all kind fill up the small living room, making it a bit harder to move around the place. Hence why you’re glued to the couch watching Amy and Sticks prepare. Amy looks at you worryingly, it was as if you were a toddler being left alone for the first time in her life. Which…is technically not untrue, minus the toddler part.

“Amy can take two guests with her y’know.”  Sticks clutches her own bag on her shoulders, a normal hand-made one with leather. Compared to Amy, she looks at the array of suitcases with utter confusion. “but I guess you’d have to pack light.” A huff comes out of her.looking back at Amy with a tinge of annoyance. “Do you really have to pack this much? It’s only a two day trip!”

“It's not just a ‘trip’ Sticks!” Amy starts getting giddy with excitement. “I’m being invited to Comedy Chimp! That’s the best thing that could’ve ever happened to my business!” ah, right. Comedy Chimp, the one and only late night tv show who speaks with celebrities of this Island. Another new information you’ve learned during your few weeks here. Though not as much as a shocker as the very idea of anthropomorphic people even existing, with your shock on the latter completely phasing by and dying at this point, you’ve come to question more about this world you’re living in.

First, it was the media itself. Somehow, they have their own internet, their own certain electricity and connections that set them completely disconnected from the world outside of theirs. It’s baffling, really. Though you’re not the most expert in this topic, surely they’re connected to it somehow, right? If not, you wouldn’t have been able to connect to Jason in the first place…but then again…you do always have to call him on the highest mountain of the place, with the lowest internet possible and a very glitchy and often blurry figure of Jason on your screen. Perhaps, you should try and see if you have the ability to text and load up videos as well. Maybe with the help of google maps you can pinpoint where you technically are. Despite the idea fresh in your mind, another thought dwells on you, one that makes you huff. You’d rather not let your sudden quick activity on the internet alarm Louis. It’s been quite the two months, suddenly appearing online could raise unwanted attention.

With that out of your mind, you try to trace back to your first thought. Right, the Island’s media. They all have their own celebrities, some you’ve only heard by name, such as Tommy Thunder, and others you’ve seen pictures of, like the eagle on the chocolate bar you're on your first day here. and the third of them were the big stars. Though only a handful, their presence is very well known among the residents. Though deep diving and researching about how and when they have gotten famous feels like a rather fun feat, you’re more curious about something much more boring.

How do they make these certain merchandise and objects?

You will be honest, this Island is no safe place. If the almost active volcano wasn’t proof enough, there is also Eggman who destroys the town constantly, and from what you’ve heard by Sticks and Amy, things such as meteor showers and hurricanes are not uncommon. A very horrifying thought, given how Amy’s house is quite frankly not the safest in terms of structure. Not to mention, you’re soon to be housed in a tree. So yeah, not a nice thought.

But here is the thing, here is the subject that has been bombarding your mind from the moment you’ve woken up. you only know one section of the entire huge Island. Some could argue that you know four, if you count the jungles, beaches and volcanoes. But, all of those places are only a few feet apart, and one can only see them as one zone of the Island. Your proof? Comedy Chimp.

You see, dear imaginary competitor who is trying to reason with y/n’s logic,the host of Comedy Chimp-er… whose name is also Comedy Chimp- does these certain skits. Afterall, there aren’t enough celebrities to interview on a daily basis, so their routine is a bit different from what you’d be used to. They interview a celebrity once a week, which is usually on Friday nights, and before that day, they constantly try to put clues on the show for people to stay tuned and try to guess who the celebrity will be. Clues, who get separated in different skits around the island that the host does. The first night when you watched him, he was in a desert looking area, a place that shocked you and made you ask Amy where he was exactly. Much to your shock, Amy replied that it’s a certain section of the Island away from the town, then she started to ramble about how it was beneficial to the ‘ancients’ in the past. That would also explain why you’ve never seen the studio for such a show, or a studio for any show on their channels for that matter. They were on the other side of the Island, one completely unknown to you. and perhaps, even, it would have the workshops or factories that create products like that eagle chocolate  bar in such a rapid pace.

“-Y/n? were you even listening?” Before you could even delve deeper, Amy’s voice snaps you out. you look at her with a bit of guilt. “yeah- I think? You were talking about why you need all these suitcases.”

“So you agree?” Amy grins triumphantly at Sticks, whom was grumbling and rolling her eyes.

“well…” you huff, and Amy and Sticks both now look at you with little anticipation. “I mean- it’s best to be prepared- but how are you going to carry all of these by yourself? Won’t it be exhausting?”

“uh, hello?” her posture straightens up in pride. “You are speaking to a soon-to-be celebrity and the most successful business woman of all on this island!” Sticks seemingly rolled her eyes at that.

“he’ll probably just ask you dumb questions.” Sticks groaned. “How are you so sure he’s the right guy for a sponsor?”

“Can’t you be a bit more supportive?” Amy sighed. “ not even Sonic got an interview with him yet.”

“Exactly.” Sticks replied. “ He's out of actors and models around here, so now he’s lookin’ for us for content!” she suddenly grumbles. “ain’t no way I’m letting that stale-joke-stealing guy get any money out of me.”

“Well, he’s not interviewing you, he’s interviewing me.”

Sticks sighs at that. “Just warning ya.” She grabs the suitcases and walks through the door. “don’t come crying to me when he doesn’t ask you anything about your new business!” she says, as if she wouldn’t gouge Chimp’s eyes out if he insults her best friend in any way.

“Say, which business are you trying to promote here?” you spoke up, grabbing Amy’s attention as she was zipping up the last bag.

“interior design!” she gleefully answers. “ you did say I had a knack for it, so I thought why not make a business out of it?”

“Well, yes- you do have talent in it.” you take a glance around the house, confirming your own statements to yourself. “But are you sure you want to make every hobby of yours a business?”

“What do you mean?”

“well—“ you sit up a bit more straight. “ You don’t need to make every hobby marketable to prove to yourself that you’re good at said hobby. And you already have so many classes you run, are you sure you even have time for it?”

“oh please,” Amy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Have you even met me? I am the queen of schedules! I’m sure I can make time for it.”

“hold on-“ Sticks now joined the conversation. “you mean to tell me you didn’t even start the business yet?!””

Now faced with two worried friends and a load of doubt, Amy stutters a bit and then grumbles. “ Trust me on this,guys! This will be highly marketable! Next week you’re going to see me in the magazine!" She strikes a fashionable pose. “Amy Rose, model, business woman,artist, entrepreneur and interior designer!” she strikes another. “What's next for this sublime pink beauty? Go to page 68 to find out more!”

“Do magazines actually have that many pages?” Sticks’ questions go unanswered.

“Well, if you say so.” You just shrugged. It’s not your business,anyways. If this is what she wants to promote, then who are you to stop her? “I hope it goes well.”

“promise me you’ll watch it?” Amy’s eyes are one of excitement, an excitement that quickly shifts to slight concern. “and that you’ll make sure the house  is not trashed by the boys when I come back?”

Two days where you’re alone, one where it’s off to work in the morning, but after it is a well needed rest after the hellish work week you’ve been through. No matter how many animals you patch up or inspect, the rows and reservations at the vetirinary are never-ending. You have a few plans on how to spend the weekend. You’re not sure why Amy’s so worried about the house being trashed, but from what you heard, last time she let Sonic and Knuckles take care of the place it didn’t go so well. something about a couch fiasco. though, since she seemed concerned, you gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it’ll calm her nerves down.

“promise.”

---

The clement household was always known to be cold.

Outside it’s walls, it’s a beautiful, warm victorian-like manor deep within the forest, it’s a princess’ castle and a house pet’s oasis. But within the old rose-covered walls lies a cold, dimly lit, empty house. Even the employees within the place are as quiet as ever, their shoes barely leaving a ‘click’ or a ‘clack’ against the smooth wooden floors.  The lack of noise is the complete opposite of what Cameron is used to. 

Being one of the ‘generational’ families whom have saved the world from doom centuries ago had it’s perks and very small disadvantages. One disadvantage being the oath the families took amongst each other to meet when one wants to speak with them. It’s known as a greta way of teamwork and companionship, breaking it would be considered shameful and done in pure distaste. Which is why he’s here today, in the Clement household by the request of Louis Clement, this year’s biggest jackass.

It’s a request that had his mother spout praises and excitement while his grandparents spoke about upholding respect and acting with manners of a gentleman, all while his great great uncle sat in silence, like he always has.

His family doesn’t know what he knows, so of course they only see this as a common courtesy and perhaps even an offer for future business relations, but it’s far from that,it’s much more ridiculous, because Louis Clement never learned to grow up and face rejection, and now he’s decided to go haywire because of it.  

There are many reasons on why Cameron never liked speaking with the other children  within the guild. One common excuse of his being that their personalities just didn’t mix well with his. His house was known for intelligence, known to be full of scientist and analyst whom constantly support mankind with their scientific goals. Though now the idea of engaging in the scientific discovery is slowly dimming down generation after generation, the honor and promise of helping it prosper is something they must support, whether his father liked it or not. Oh, and him? Well, Cameron, ‘embarrassingly enough’ as his mother would say, likes conspiracy science. Though he often finds himself disagreeing or just being amused by the prospect of flat-earth or pyramids being built by aliens, there is one phenomena that has never left his mind. For he himself has seen proof of their existence- or at least- he knows a trustworthy man who has.

“I apologize for the short notice Mr.Eclipse.”

Shaky. Louis’ voice seems shakier here than he’s ever heard it. just like any other, Louis often wore a mask of confidence when invited to the annual parties, he was radiant, a star in the middle with beaming eyes and a charming smile. He was the perfect image for the Clement family and has strayed far from showing his insecurities to others. a lesson taught by his family, perhaps. For they too tend to not show any annoyance or grievance to anything. He often heard his grandmother complaining about ‘every generation worse than the other, for Clement’s pure hearts as they call it, can dim and become rotten with time.’ He never understood what she meant, but he can get a good grasp of it now. For you see, it seems like the rumours of Clement’s being emotionless was untrue, quite far from it in fact. They are just as emotional as any other human being, or maybe, Louis Clement is by far the most emotional Clement he’s ever seen.

Louis runs a hand in his hair and straightens his clothes, dressed casual and not in the suits Cameron is used to seeing him wearing. Thank god, because Cameron decided against wearing a suit as well, believing he looks too awkward in such a formal getup.

He clears his throat,preparing to sound utterly poised and formal, remembering how his mother prayed for him to not screw this up. “there’s no need for apologies..uh..Mr.Clement.”

“Please, just call me Louis.”

“Okay..Louis- cool.” Shit shit he already ruined it. oh well, he did say he won’t promise anything, perhaps he’ll be saved from the scolding later. “ so—…can I ask why you called me?”

“Why are you in such a rush Cameron?” because you’re an intense psycho who couldn’t take no for an answer- was what Jason would’ve preferred Cameron to say, and he’ll admit, he wanted to see his reaction to such a sentence as well- but he’d rather not find assassins ready to strangle him outside, so he opted to just stay silent instead.

“Let's go to the garden first. I recently got this sublime tea. It would hurt my feelings if you hadn’t had at least one sip.”

Don’t say anything snarky don’t say anything snarky don’t don’t don’t-

Yet, Cameron has always been a troublemaker at heart. From learning the most confusing and less-evidential of sciences to letting a complete stranger take a relative’s yacht. He could not handle ignoring such a perfect moment.

“Why?  Is it poisonous?”

Louis falters in his step, frozen in shock for a moment, his back turned to Cameron. His shoulders shake, then a bit of wheezing  can be heard. A small wheeze then became a holler of laughter. Never has Cameron heard  a laugh so on edge, so on the verge of mental collapse. Oh god, it is poisonous, isn’t it?

Louis turns back and looks at him with a smile. “ I’ve heard that you were amusing to speak with, but I never expected to be laughing from the first minute that you’re here!” if Cameron were a fool, he’d hit Louis or give him another,even harsher comment, but he knew where the line was and where he stood in it, so he kept his mouth in a tight smile and let Louis lead him to the outside, where a garden overtakes the place and a table is set-up right in the middle just for such occasions. 

He wanted to get a word in, to thank for his hospitality or try to make small chit-chat and avoid the main issue he was here for, because given the state Louis is in, he knows for sure it’s about you. yet, his phone constantly buzzes, and Louis urges him to check it right as their tea is being prepared.

With a strained smile, he opens his phone, only to predictably be met with hundreds of messages from Jason.  An entire line of typos, all he could comprehend being Jason’s way of trying to control his mixed shocked and annoyance from Louis’ invite. Last messages were more comprehensible, longer and well-thought-out, all begging him to leave the place immediately, or hell, never answer the invite in the first place.

Cameron held back a full sob, it’s way too late to turn back now.

 As the delightful smell of a floral tea wafts through the room, it does little to calm his nerves, and he’s left with this constant uneasiness as he tries to look anywhere but Louis’ eyes.“So, Cameron,”  Louis quickly takes a sip, a frown upon his face as he remembers buying this tea for it was specifically your favourite blend, an irony he could not bear to fathom upon, a heartbreak he’s that he cannot process even one bit longer.”I’ve heard an interesting story from your cousin yesterday,” shit. Cameron is in a losing battle, and he now knows that he must die a silent man, never giving away the location of the hideout. “ care to explain your side of the story?”

“…hah..why not?...” he fiddles with his collar, the clothing on him feeling far too itchy now.

-----

On such a beautiful and quiet beach, one would think peace would be exemplary here. Yet, you are fuming with annoyance and rage as your phone barely functions at all anymore. With your charger now just a few scraps of strings, charging the poor thing was always an impossible task. It was like you were forcing your device to do the worst yoga poses for seven straight hours. Therefore, your phone is slowly trading to a no man’s land. It constantly glitches, fumbles, and automatically turns itself off.  Anytime you restart and turn it on, the batter bar keeps showing a completely different number. You were glad such a thing just happened to your phone and not your laptop, because if that was the case, any contact you had with the outside world would be gone forever.

However, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for not doing anything about this sooner. With your phone now in shambles of what it used to be, you can never go back and save the files you had there or retrieve any lost numbers or accounts. your entire life in the city was in that phone, from socials to photos, stupidly satisfying mobile games and old internet friends you haven't spoken to in months now, all of it was now gone. Though you are still grateful to have left the hellhole of a place, it never meant that you didn’t have at least a few good memories there.

A small stab hits your heart, and you find yourself in a dilemma. Are you a fool? Must you pick a world and stick to it and never look back?

This freedom you have feels great, it feels cathartic even, yet, you still find yourself often missing the small things you had in that past life.With how much your mind has been processing your childhood, you’ve been feeling an ache for the small things in life. your mother’s brownies…her teasings and banter with your father in the rare times they did get along..her soothing lullabies that she;d sing to you when you had a nightmare-

You freeze up for a moment. Wait.

God, did you miss your mother of all people?

The urge to facepalm was increasing by the second, your mind now berating you for even thinking about missing a mother like her. nevertheless, your feeling’s were evident. Even after all this dread she;s giving you, all those depressing nights where you considered your own worth, you still ache for the little love she has shown you. Sometimes, in your imaginative mind, you always thought she’d one day look at newspaper tabloids talking about your infamous adventures and say how proud she was of you to all her friends. In your child years where responsibilities were simpler and expectations were far less heavy, you always thought that you’d become a great adventurer and Louis a great businessman, he always claimed that it was his dreams to be the person that makes his parents proud. A sentiment that always felt off to you. you would even sketch out your ideas, show them to your family excitedly and claiming you want to show it to Louis too in the next playdate. These claims didn’t sit well with your mother, as she always coaxed you into leaving them at home for next time, not to tell Louis or anyone else in his family about the matter, because you want it to be a surprise, don’t you? speaking about the art piece would only ruin the amazement they’d feel in the next play date! So never bring it, only do so when mother mentions it.

You’re sure the drawings are up in the attic somewhere, collecting dust with all your other plastic and paper companions you’ve made and talked with over the years, alone in your room unless Louis called. Alone, cold and murmuring your words, not wanting to wake anyone’s attention to your fantasy filled world, full of friends and companions that you held dear, all whom in your teenage and adut life in the city have become w withering memory, yet now, you find yourself remembering a bit more details about them with each passing day. There was the adventurer whom you loved her book and always imagined yourself as her little sister, one cartoon character known to be a grouchy old man with a soft heart whom you’ve always seen as a father figure and—

PLANK!!!

Pain and shock all hit you at once as your head falls face first to the sand below you, a pained cry emitting from you as the banging pain of whatever metal material that has hit your head now takes over your mind. Now, you could only hear two, robotic-like voices, one more wise while the other a bit more goofy and high-pitched. They walk- more like hover- to your line of sight, the presumably red one- you guessed, for your eyesight was now becoming blurry by the second- glancing to your eyes and jolting a bit in shock.

“It seems like she’s still awake.” He tells his yellow, more cubic friend. One whose holding a metal bat with a familiar logo on it. “Cubot, hit her one more time with the bat, but try not to lead into any injuries. Her head is more fragile than ours.”

You couldn’t help but give a strained giggle, startling them both. “..cubot…” you give a small chuckle. “…very….. fitting…”at this point, your mind was becoming far too sleepy to understand even the smallest grains of the sand beneath you, let alone what their exact conversation was about. Something about this loss of senses and eyesight only individualising things by color left you in a state of déjà vu. Only now, the sun isn’t as blazing as it was before, but a cold wind made you flinch.

The yellow one seems to have heard your almost inaudible words, scratching his head with a confused gaze. “really? I always thought my name was ironic. Because I’m the more orb-shaped between the two of us.”

The red one looked at him in disbelief. A blur of stuttered and confused words leave him as he finds himself trying to process the ludicrous thoughts of his friend, all while trying to find the best way to explain in the simplest way possible how his claims are utterly false- yet he gives up mid-second, sighs and just stares at you disappointed, as if he’s seen this scene before and he’s experiencing his own déjà vu as well.

“let’s just…hurry and get this human to Dr.Eggman.” he points to your forehead. “ go on, hit her again with the bat.”

As if to mock you, which a part of you thinks that’s not it, the yellow bot hits the bat a few times on the palm of his hand before bringing it to the top of his head. You quickly close your eyes, swiftly feeling the impact—everything around you fades to black.

-----

You’ve always loved your mother.

Sure, she could be quite annoying at times- her hypocrisy was always a huge problem. Her constant need to make every issue and problem someone else’s fault always made you feel bitter, and her love for you has always felt…conditional.

If you’ve done everything you’re told, if you followed every rule and replied with ‘yes mother’ to every command, she’d adore you to the moon and back and call you her special beautiful girl. However, falter even once, break something or deny an order and you were met with a scowl and a judgemental stare for every action you made, every breath you took and every laugh you had.

You don’t think your mother ever wanted you.

From the moment you were born, you were made to entertain. The very reason of your birth, as your parents often claimed, was because Jason wanted a sibling, because their favorite boy was lonely.

You never really knew how your mother truly felt about you. Like any other parent, she’d claim she loved you, and only wanted what was best for you. to the point where she’d make you abandon all dreams and quirks of yours to fit into the standard she wanted you to be, the person she believed you must be.

There were times where you truly did feel that love, where you’d both laugh about what you did at school, or when yoi both would drink tea and gossip about your dad’s side of relatives. Sometimes, she’d see you and have the urge to hug, claiming she just loved you so much, the very thought of you being her child made her happy. Whenever you were injured or bloodied up, your mother would be panicking and hugging you for dear life, giving you a bountiful amount of love and attention you’d rarely feel from her in normal circumstances.

…there were times where you injured yourself on purpose, just so you could feel her worry. Feel her love. Feel her care.

They say that a mother’s love is unconditional, that no matter what, your mother would always love and adore you. but that was never the case with your  mother. The love you wanted to receive always had a price, always had a condition. And the reason for it is quite simple.

Your mother may love you.

 but she never liked you.

That, is the difference she had with other mothers. Mothers like spending time with their child. They like the child’s personality, hopes and dreams. They can imagine in another universe being their age and becoming their friend. Your mother was never like that. For you are the complete opposite of who she was. and she couldn’t tolerate that. She couldn’t ever accept that.

You often wonder if you’ve gotten the daydreaming side of you from your mother. A side she must be too embarrassed to discuss, because you swear that your mother had already made up a personality for you inside her head right before you were even born. She must’ve been daydreaming about a best friend's daughter, a girl that will help her dear mommy in any way she can and tries to make schedules and routines similar to her. She dreamed about having  a mini-me around. She wanted to raise her childhood self, give the love and support she never had as a child and live life bi-curiously through you.

But it failed. You were a failure. You were born a failure.

Something about that makes your heart ache.

The more memories that flash through your mind, the more you wish to escape your dreams and finally wake up. yet you’re stuck, paralyzed within this state of subconsciousness as more bitter memories flashed through you and more claims are made.

Then, suddenly, a horrid smell fills your nostrils and the world flashes white.

----

“*cough cough* GAH- that smell is disgusting!” a gurgle-like, constantly prideful and annoyed voice rings through your ears. “ I told you to just aim at her, not at me you fool!”

“Sorry boss, but you were kinda right beside her.” A goofier voice said.

“well couldn’t you just tell me?! was it that hard to just tell me to scooch away a little?!” your senses were slowly coming back to you, your mind still in a bit of  a haze. Once more all you see is colors. Shades of red and yellow all around you. with specks of white blending the background.

“but..you said to not talk to you until you’ve finished your villainess monologue to the captor.” It is now you finally regain sight and can fully see who's speaking. It was Cubot, holding what seems to be a gun and a sprinkler attached together.

“and what are you doing right now?” the man beside you, Eggaman, threatened.

“uh….” Cubot looks quiet for a moment, a finger under his chin as he genuinely thinks and contemplates about the question. “..not not talking?”

Eggman’s annoyed face just somehow deepens in its wrinkles and frowns as he facepalms. An angered and exhausted groan comes out of him as he looks at the two bots. “Just shut it and let me do my evil monologue in peace! “ he then sighed. “God, it’s like I have to do everything myself here!” he then turns back and faces the red one, which if you remember,is named Orbot. “ You! go fetch me my hot cocoa!”

“uh…sir..we’re out of hot cocoa powder.” Orbot worriengl;y replied.

“WHAT?! What do you mean we’re out?!—“

As Eggman starts another parade of enraged rambles to the bots, it’s at this time you decide to finally shake up the exhaustion in your mind and comprehend you surroundings. You try to wriggle your body, yet you found your hands tied to the back. great. Just fucking fantastic.

Moreover, there seems to be a barrier around you, a sort of laser-cage that ensures you don’t move an inch from the circle that’s deemed your prison. The room around you is strange, yet awfully intriguing. A house in pure white. Fitting for a scientist, you guessed. Though it was at that moment you remembered that Eggman was technically a robotist- not a scientist. So truly, the house being ensnared in white seems a little jarring. With how there was nothing but a work desk towards your left, a mixture of tools,gadgets  and blueprints cluttering the entire walls of the room, you guessed you’re at his workshop.

You look back at Eggman, who was still scolding the two now shaking bots like he doesn’t have a captor to attend to right now. with a clear of your throat, you grab the group’s attention and parepare your voice to sound unwavering and unbothered, because truly, you didn’t feel much fear anymore around Eggman’s presence. Sure you were a bit worried about his new plan, but from all the stories you heard about his silly antics and your previous interactions ending in his failure, you didn’t feel much threatened by him anymore.

“um..excuse me but- can I ask why I’m being kidnapped?”  you asked. “follow-up question- “ an unknown confidence blurred into you. where it came from, you’re unsure, but you couldn’t help but grin. “Can I have some hot cocoa too? I’ve been craving something sweet for a while now.” a hot cocoa will never beat your mother’s brownies, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to quench such a craving with another chocolatey sweet treat.

Orbot’s robotic faces somehow switched from neutral to excited as his hands clasped together in delight.”oh why of course! How would you like your hot cocoa? With marshmallows? Candy canes? Oh oh! maybe T-AaaAAH-“

Eggman suddenly  shoves Orbot away, quickly taking his rolling chair and sitting on it with a dramatic, villainy pose. He tries to ignore the pained groans Orbot gave or the clack and clatter of the items around him that fell into disarray as he shoved Orbot away.

He starts off with a prideful, villainous laughter. “We meet again, Doctor.” You couldn’t but hold back a smile, amused on how Sonic’s nickname for you is slowly spreading around the island. It’s nice to have the power to gloat your doctorate without lifting a finger or uttering a word. “ How foolish of you to let your guard down when your little miss ‘fuzzy puppies' partner—” he does a ‘quote on quote' hand gesture. His brows soon furrow and he looks at you with deep offense. “—which by the way, was my fuzzy puppies partner first—” he couldn’t help but mention. “—is out of town for the whole weekend.”

“Are your attacks always this frequent?” you couldn’t help but ask. “don’t you think it’s best to take time creating a plan first for a month or two and then attack?”

Eggman stills quiet for a moment, as if he’s truly considering your question. “And why would I do that?” he countered. “ It's my job to be a constant fear and menace! It’s all in the villain’s code of honor.” He suddenly puts one hand on his chest and the other high-up. “I vowed to destroy everything on sight, to be at present in the news columns at least thrice a month,to see my plans come to fruition as the world around me burns.” In this moment, your mind entertained a thought of a national-villain themed anthem of sorts playing behind him, all while his signature eggman logo was placed on a flag and flying with the soaring winds.

“…but…wouldn’t it give you more time to plan your evil schemes?” you shuffled a bit, trying to gain a more comfortable position even with the laser-like handcuffs limiting your movement. “ like- you could plan more than just another bot attack-you can even have more time to build more complicated robots! I mean- the first one I saw was a pretty strong one. But it probably took a long time to make, right?”

Orbot looked at Cubot with utter confusion. “Is she seriously giving her captor advice?”

Cubot shrugged.“Maybe we hit her on the head too hard?”

“SHUT IT YOU TWO! Can’t you see that I’m having a serious conversation with a fellow doctor?! Go get those hot cocoas ready already!”

With the shout startling both bots, they scurry away to the kitchen. Eggman quickly grabs a pen and paper and eagerly awaits for your input. “Now tell me, what did you think of my last attack at the village?”

---

Despite the shift of attitude with Eggman was a bit amusing, you still tred carefully when expressing your opinions on his previous attack. You made sure to add in advice,but nothing too specific that he could use to ruin the entire village with. It was simple things like attack in open areas next time, or don’t just bring laser-shooting bots in a street fight. Get a bit creative, make-up new bots rather than constantly fixing the old ones.

“Do you know how much money that would cost me?” he grumbled, notebook in hand. “Villainy isn’t cheap, you know.”

“then…how did you get all of this?” you look around the room, fidgeting a bit as you try to adjust your posture in this tied up position. “I’m pretty sure most of the items here cost even more than a few simple bot-making materials…”

Cubot suddenly chimes in. “Oh! we actually bought all of these second hand from villai-“ he’s quickly hit in the head by Eggman, whom was looking at him with warning. “…nevermind.”

“don’t listen to his prattle.” Eggman advised, then he groaned like a tired father. “I may have forgotten to place a few screws in this one’s head when I was making him.”

You felt pity for Cubot, his naivety reminding you a bit of yourself when you were younger. But then again, memory lane has been a horrid bitch to you ever since you got to this island, and you’re finding every little thing to be a reminder of your past. Cubot is now becoming one of them.

“my point still stands.”  You look back at Eggman. “your attacks are becoming way too boring.”

Eggman merely grumbles in annoyance, notebook slammed to the table and arms crossed like a moody child. An awkward silence takes over the room for a moment, making you realize just how uncomfortable your body was getting from being tied up for so long. then, Eggman gives another annoyed grumble and rolls his chair to meet Orbot.

“has he answered yet?!”

Orbot taps a few buttons on the phone, waiting in the line for a moment before sighing and shaKing his head no. Eggman’s brows furrow, he gets up and takes the phone from him and urgently taps the buttons on the phone with much more strength than Orbot has. His foot taps impatiently on the ground as the phone dials.

“ Hey Sonic! I don’t know where you are right now, “ he raised a brow. “probably taking a nap. But in any case- guess what?” he brings the phone to your vicinity, expecting you to say something on the phone. Instead, you gave him a mischievous smirk and then blew raspberries.

“w-what?! No!!!—“ Eggman’s eyes flared up in anger as he looked at you baffled. He then grumbled to himself, nodding and looking at you with annoyance and..a bit impressed. “well played…well played.” He brings the phone up to his ear again. “that wasn’t me by the way. I kidnapped that rebellious human as payback for the humiliation she brought on to me.” he then looks at you. “a payback that will be much harsher now that she has also ruined what was supposed to be a threatening call!” oh well, it was absolutely worth it. you couldn't help but give him a rebellious grin.  “Anyways, I hope this message finds you terribly, “ he hums. “goodbye.”

“Is that how you end every call?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“only when calling my enemies. For fellow comrades, I say ‘I hope this message finds you in an evil-scheming state.’”

“that’s quite the mouthfull..” you mentioned..

“It's the villain code.” He merely shrugged. “ You should see the villainous messages they send me and then judge.” He huffed in annoyance.

“wait a second---“ you looked at him in disbelief. “you…have contact with other villains?”

“What, you thought I was the only being looking for absolute dark control over this Island?” he scoffed.you do remember Tails talking about there being others when you first got here. “ Of course there are other villains. None are as great as me though.”

“no-I know that. I’m just…shocked that you guys like—contact each other. Shouldn’t you all be rivals?”

“We are but…uh..” he scratched his cheek for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it to your non-evil-scheming mind. “think of it..as a classroom.” He continued. “We all have the same enemy.”

“the teacher?”

He hums in delight. “correct! And we all need to beat the teacher by?...” he awaits your answer, acting like a teacher himself. A teacher for villainy. The thought makes you chuckle.

“uh…” you think for a moment, shuffling uncomfortably as the ropes on your wrist scratch your skin. At least the conversation with your kidnapper helps you ignore it. Is this what they call Stockholm syndrome? Probably not. “…by…killing the teacher?....” you joked, unsure of what the correct answer truly is.

“yes!” he exclaimed, Orbot and Cubot clapping for you in admiration. Cubot then turns to Orbot. “ She's really good at this. Are we sure she’s not a villain too?”

Orbot looked at him surprised. “did you just….actually ask a good question for once?”

Cubot scratched his metalic head at that, and you wondered, did…robots ever feel itchy?..did they feel any sort of sensations you feel on a day-to-day basis? Or was this all programmed to their brain as a way to imitate human- well, in this case, anthropomorphic—behaviour? Oh my god, are you actually interested in eggman’s work? Are you a villain in the making?

“but you see, you obviously can’t kill your teacher.” He shrugged. “or at least, they tell you you can’t. And so, what do you do? you do what the teacher hates you doing!.”

“fail their class?” you quickly added, but at the same moment, he too, added,“pass their class!!!”

You look at each other in dumbfounded silence.

“what? Are you pulling my leg here?” Eggman grumbled, yet it sounded more confused than angry. “why on earth would they want you to pass their class?”

“because it’s their job??” you pointed out with a huff. “ I mean- think about it- their entire purpose is to help their students pass—why on earth would they seek joy in failing you? If most students of the class fail, then the blame is not put on the students anymore, rather, it’s put on the teacher themselves, and they lose their job.”

Another eerie silence takes the room, and you’re left with an utterly dumbfounded and shocked eggman, processing the information you gave him.

“did she just….tell us that we’re….we’re actually…” Cubot looked at Orbot in horror. Orbot hesitated, yet turned around to him and soon replied. “..that…we’re actually..helping Sonic be a hero?....”

Your eyes go widened as well, suddenly realizing the simple infodump you just uttered was in fact, the most earth-shattering information they have ever received. To them, this simple flaw in comparison is worse than the curse of Ra itself. A curse that, you’re very certain they’ll bestow upon you now, if given the chance.

Both you, Orbot and Cubot look at eggman in concern, waiting to see what his reaction would be. And yet, he stands frozen, his brows still up in shock and his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t see behind his glasses, but you were certain his eyes were as wide as saucers now. He stayed like that for an excruciatingly long minute, and Orbot, all while clutching Cubot fearfully, quickly speaks up. “um….Dr.Eggman?....are you…alright?..”

He doesn’t give any response, something that concerns you all even more than before.

“should we dispose of her?” Cubot asked in concern, all while hiding behind Orbot.

“honestly?” you sighed. “I…wouldn’t blame you for that.” It was deserved, really. If you were told that you were actually aiding your mortal nemesis rather than destroying, you’d want to kill the fucker who told you that too.

However, eggman still stayed silent. He soon took a deep breath, his face turning into a deep frown as he turned around and walked to the telephone once more. He clicks a few buttons, then taps his foot impatiently as he waits for the dial to go in message mode.

“hello, Sonic, it’s me again, Dr.Eggman.” he starts formally. “GET YOUR PATHETIC BLUE SELF RIGHT HERE THIS INSTANT BEFORE I EXERCISE THIS…THIS DEVIL UP TO SMITHEREENS!!!” You all flinch and wince at the sudden bang in your eardrums. Yep, this is how you die. By giving the man you kidnapped you an existential crisis and making him think you’re the devil. You hoped Satan would at least give you a high-five for that on your way in. “get here NOW or else!” he quickly slams the phone back in its place, making you all flinch. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “you..you’re…” he wheezes out, shoulders slouching. “you’re somehow more evil than I am!” he said in a dramatic and slightly fearful tone. “How can you do it so easily?”

You shrugged, despite everything, amusement courses within you. It's impressive how much more confident you’ve gotten these past few weeks. You wonder if it’s because you’ve been surrounded by utterly confident and fearless people. “ It's all from my trauma, I think.”

“ah, so you’re a future serial killer in the making.” Orbot said in the most informative tone ever, a complete opposite energy of the thing he just implied. “fascinating, do you perchance also kill animals for fun?”

You look at him dumbfounded. “…I’m a vet, Orbot.”

“so?” he hummed, and you swore he was a bit amused by this. “ even doctors can be serial killers.”

“I’m done with the conversation now.” you sighed, not wanting to implicate yourself in such a dark light. And yet, they didn’t seem to take the hint. And whether it was for their evil amusement or general lack of intelligence, you were unsure.

“But, let's say you did have the ability to kill someone and get away with it.” cubot chimed. “Who would you choose?”

Eggman, who was distracting himself with some blueprints, also stopped what he was doing, apparently curious for your answer as well. they all awaited eagerly as you hesitated in your reply, in deep thought.

“uh…no one?” you huffed.

“seriously?” Cubot asked, a mix of shock and annoyance in his voice. “there’s not even one person you hate?”

“Well…” you considered things for a moment. What if you had the chance to kill louis? You do hate him for what he;s done. Maybe seeing him dead wouldn’t be so bad. And yet, as soon as you thought of that, the very idea of making him disappear from the world, you remembered the gleam of hope in his eyes, his sheepish smiles and his dumb jokes, his dorky interests, his desperate need to wins everyone’s approval, his desperate thirst for affection. Your heart aches.”…no, not really.” You could never do it. you could never do that to anyone. Not even Louis Clement.

Eggman groaned at that, rolling his eyes. “ So that's why you’re not a serial killer or genius villain.” He muttered to himself. “You care too much. You’re..emotional.” he gagged at the word, apparently sickened by the very concept of it.

“…nothing wrong about caring.” You muttered, your heart in a heap of swirling emotions you can’t comprehend. Eggman rolled his eyes at that. “There's nothing wrong with drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth either…but it still tastes terrible and makes you feel awful, doesn’t it?” he jabbed back.

“..comparing matters of the heart to something as simple as the rules of eating is ridiculous.” You huffed, now a bit offended to have your emotional state be compared to something like that. I mean, truly, what’s the problem with being emotional? Of choosing heart over logic?

“but it’s not wrong.” He continued to jab, shrugging playfully. “ There's nothing wrong with comparing things to food.” He mocked,his evil chuckle further adding more salt to the wound.

With an annoyed frown and grumble, you let the conversation end there, too tired and quite frankly, too hungry to continue this any longer. Soon, your stomach rumbles as your nose catches the scent and aroma of the ever-calming and delightful sweet treat, coco.

“The hot cocoas are ready!” Orbot exclaimed in excitement and delight, reminding you of a mother on christmas night.

Eggman clapped his hands in excitement as he took a mug from the trey, drinking the hot chocolate and sighing in satisfaction. He then snaps his fingers. “Cubot! Take a mug and hold it out for our capture over here.”

Cubot, despite his robotic face, somehow frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. You marveled a bit at how expressive eggman’s creations can get. “Why am I always the one who has to feed the kidnapped?”

“because you can’t even make a simple sandwich.” Orbot countered back with a sigh.his voice then got tinged with a bit of pride. “…let alone masterfully brew a relaxing cup of cocoa.”

“lEt alOnE MastERfuLLY BrEw A ReAlAxINg cUp OF cOaCoa.” Cubot mocked in a whiny voice, annoying Orbot in the process. He then groans, grabbing the mug from the trey and holding it out to your tiny circle-cell, immune to the laser around it, it seems.

You look at the hot cocoa suspiciously, giving a glare to eggman. “this isn’t drugged, is it?”

Eggman looks at you with disgust and offense. “ I’m a villain, not a monster.”

“…fair.” You hummed, giving a shrug, which further annoy your constrained wrists into pressure as you edge a tiny bit closer to the laser cell, Cubot’s hand reached out for the mug to reach your vicinity. You wait for moment for it to cool down, blowing on it a bit to somehow wipe away the steam that was pouring out of it. yet of course, it was to no luck, the steam was never-ending, and despite your better judgement, you take a sip, and soon, your taste buds get greeted to the sweetness of cacao and milk…mixed with….garlic?

Eggman gives a hearty chuckle as you spit out the drink, coughing a bit in shock, your tastebuds practically screaming in horror of the cacophony of flavors. “Still evil though.” He chimed, grinning triumphantly while you gave him a glare.

With a horrible lasting taste of cocoa now invading your tongue, you merely grumble as you zone out, letting your kidnappers chatter amongst themselves as you look at the clock, eyeing the ticking minutes and seconds, wondering where on earth Sonic could be.

It’s embarrassing, really, how much you rely on Sonic and the others’ aid when it comes to Eggman. Surely, you can’t expect them to always be there, right? a pang of guilt runs through you. you’re a deadweight to them, aren’t you? the damsel in distress, god, the thought of it makes you cringe and want to jump off the summit of the volcano. You really need to learn how to fight, or at least, learn self-defense.  But would that even work against someone like eggman, who has an army of bots always swarming the opponents?

Would you ever be good enough to fight alongside team Sonic?

----

Jason punched Cameron in the face.

he immediately cursed, spilling out a mouthful of ‘sorry’s as he helps a wincing Cameron get back up, immediately checking his face and frowning at the blooming red spot on his cheek now. “shit— Cameron, I don’t know what got over me—just—“ he tries to take a deep breath, trying to control the utter panic, terror and rage that was coursing through him. his rage, though unfortunately befallen onto Cameron, wasn’t directed at that poor soul at all. Louis fucking Clement on the other hand, can eat shit.

“no, no, I deserved that.” Cameron groaned in pain, rubbing his cheek to try to soothe the throb. “…I almost fucked everything up.”

“almost.” Jason sighed,tapping his fingers on the table. Brianna’s café feels awfully empty without the utter awkwardness and ‘I’ll-try-my-best-but-you-know-I’ll-somehow-fuck-something-up’ attitude Y/n always had here. he’s been avoiding coming here, for more reasons than just missing his dumb sibling’s presence. Hell, he used to act like he didn't know nor was he related to Y/n whenever she worked here. it’s always been this way. He always acted like they were entirely different people of their own, that their life doesn’t and should not coincide much with one another. it’s what helped him gain independence. It's what helped Y/n gain independence.

‘…maybe a little too much independence.’ He sighed at his thought. After all, only a maniac with no consideration for her family would immediately pack up her bags and run away to a stranded island, leaving her older brother to pick up the mess.

‘….but who drove her to that point?’ is a question that runs through his head day and night, a question he always throws away and tries to ignore how much it gnaws at his brain, eager to answer, yet too afraid to hear it. he shakes his head, taking a deep breath and looking at the now adjusted, yet still a bit in pain Cameron. “…so what did you tell him?”

“utter bullshit.” He huffed,thanking a waitress as she brought him a pack of ice, giving a warning glance to Jason to not lead this to a fight unless he wants to get kicked out. he straightens up a bit in slight alarm, holding his head down respectfully like a soldier. Cameron continued. “told him I took the yacht myself for a ride and broke it, now I owe my cousin a new one.”

“Did he ask anything else?”

“asked about my relationship with you.” he shrugged. “told him I only knew you in highschool.” Jason nods at that, giving out a sigh of relief. Louis suspicions may grow because of this, but at least he’s farther from the truth now. a deafening silence falls upon them. Soon, Cameron looks over to Jason curiously.

“so….what happened to her?” there was a hint of worry in his voice. a hint of guilt over everything. “Is she safe?”

Jason hesitates to answer, tapping his foot nervously. “define safe.”

“…oh god.” Cameron rubs his temples, his worry now evident. He takes off his glasses in stress, as if he doesn’t want to see Jason’s face right now, nor does he want to see anything clearly.

“she’s fine- don’t worry.” Jason quickly added, trying to ease his distress. “just…in a weird place.”

“where?”

“…you won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Jason,” Cameron looks at him with a deadpan expression. “I believe that there were anthropomorphic beings living with us in ancient times. Nothing can shock me.”

Suddenly, something in Jason’s mind rings, as if a lightbulb has flickered on top of his head as he looks at Cameron with franatic realisation, his posture straightening, eyes quickly skimming to see if anyone is paying attention to them before landing back on Cameron again, leaning a tiny bit closer as he mutters. “….what did you say those beings were called again?”

-----

The voice of cheers invaded the living room’s space, Eggman sat on his red couch, his ‘evil tea’ in hand. (his words, not yours. When asked what makes it so evil he said it was made with children’s tears and the leaves of poison ivy. You weren’t sure if he was messing with you or not. What made it more comical was that his mug was red, and his logo on it with devil horns.) Cubot and Orbot sat on the ground, you being between them. Since the hours of afternoon passed by with no Sonic nor even Knuckles and Tails in sight, Eggman decided to change the location of your imprisonment to somewhere more stimulating. Not for you, of course, but for him. he did consider leaving you here with the watchful gaze of his bots, but that soon changed when Cubot started picking at his own wires again and glitching, all while bumping into Orbot and making him fall, oil in his hands pouring to his circular head, then somehow Cubot bumping onto the counter, flicking the blowtorch and lighting Orbot’s head on fire.

Now, the slightly smoked bot was wiping the remaining cinder off his head, his expression, though limited, showing his discontempt. Orbot was happily watching the television as well, all while a bowl of snacks was in hand and trying to feed you. You were way too embarrassed by the notion, and though you were starving, you refused to get fed like that, remaining uncomfortably tied and still as you tried to distract your mind with the blaring lights on screen. Though the universe loved having you as its jester, fate still seemed to be on your side, helping you keep your promise to Amy by making Eggman watch Comedy Chimp.

After saying some rather dry yet unproblematic jokes, all while showing bloopers of the different residents of the island making ‘silly’ mistakes, the talk show host, Chimp, finally says something worth your attention. “Today, we have an incredibly special guest. Someone pink,someone heroic,” then, he put one of his hands up as if he was telling you a secret. “someone who might be a certain bluey’s girlfriend.” The crowd gives a resounding, choreographed ‘oooohh’ as Chimp winks mischievously, you couldn’t help but feel second hand embarrassment for Amy. “ladies and gentlemen let's give a warm welcome to Amy Rose!” the crowd cheers once more as she enters the stage, and you couldn’t help but proudly smile. Amy seemed a little annoyed, but she smiled politely to everyone, all while giving a glare to Chimp. “for the record,” she says as she sits down. “I am not Sonic’s girlfriend. And even if I was, that is not my entire personality.”

Chimp gives a hearty, professional laugh, looking at Amy with a half-assed apologetic glance. “Sorry ma’am, what can I say, I’m a sucker for gossip.” The crowd laughs with him, and Amy seemingly tries to hold back the urge to roll her eyes.

“So, Amy, tell me, how ya been?” Chimp leans in a bit closer, an act to show the audience he’s somewhat interested in what she has to say, and yet, his tone seemed off to you.

Despite that, Amy’s eyes shine with excitement, her posture straightening up a bit and giddy obvious in her grin. “well, you see Chimp, I’ve been getting very into interior design lately, and—“

“---yeah yeah that’s interesting and all,” Chimp immediately cuts her off with a wave of his hand, a flash of boredom held on his gaze, one that soon reverts back into the welcoming façade before anyone else could notice. “But I mean what’s going on with you.”

“um..” Amy gives a nervous laugh. “..excuse me?”

“oh come on, you know!” he then starts counting with his fingers. “unrequited love, roommate with a  horrendous being,” you choked on air on that one, shock, amusement and horror all going through you at once. Eggman however bolts out laughing, slapping his lap alongside it. “ your restaurant business going to shambles…I mean, it’s been quite the few weeks for ya, hasn’t it missy?”

“First of all, do not call me missy.” Amy growled, her rage now fully evident. while she was sitting poised and calm, her firsts were clenched, her eyes glaring daggers at the host. You admire how she’s trying to control her temper even when faced with such public humiliation,had it been you, you would’ve pounced at the monkey and punched him to death.”Second of all, Sonic and I are not dating. And we never have. And I have a life outside of him, so you better stop associating every little thing I do to him!” she practically screams the last part, you were certain she wanted to say this sentence for a very, very long time. Much longer than when this interview was scheduled. “Third of all,” her right eye twitches. “don’t you ever, and I mean EVER call my friend a ‘horrendous being.’ever.again—“ she then points to him threateningly. “—unless you want a good smack with my hammer for it!”

Chimp gets taken aback, holding his hands up in defense as he gives a nervous laugh. “Woah there Miss-er…Madame Rose,” he gives a strained, stressed smile. “I’m just speaking for the public here— I merely ask what the audience, both here and at home, want to ask you themselves.”

“oh really?” She questions, then looks at the camera scornfully. “Well if that’s the case then, why don’t you cowards come and say it to my face?!” you swore you could hear Sticks cheering her from behind the scenes. A sense of pride washes over you, and unconsciously, your once solemn and curious expression at the start of the show has become one of enjoyment and pride. Chimp taps something in his ear, listening closely before a grin covers his once serious face. “Well then, you heard her folks!” he quickly yells, stealing everyone’s attention as Amy looks at him confused. “both the audience here and the ones at home, why don’t ya give us a call right now and ask your questions?” The crowd cheers once more, giving positive astonishment to the sudden idea, all while Amy looks at them all dumbfounded, soon then grumbling from embarrassment and sitting back down, looking at Chimp judgmentally.

“What does live mean?” Cubot points to the watermark on the top right of the screen.

“it's pronounced ‘lay-ive’ not ‘lee-ve’.” Orbot replied, yet before he could continue, cubot gasped.  “you mean the TV is ALIVE?!” as Cubot smacks his head in shock, Orbot smacks his own head in disappointment.

The more questions popped, the more furious you got. Every single resident has been asking obscenely personal or arbitrary questions, further adding to Amy’s humiliation. You wanted to do something, you had to do something. You can’t just idly sit by (well, kidnappedly -if that even is a word- sit by) and let them ridicule your friend like this, not when she stood up for you.

“Eggman,” you sighed. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m sorry, do you think you’re a house guest here?” Eggman looked at you mockingly. “Do you really think I do favors for my prisoners?”

“I’m not asking as a prisoner,” you countered. “I ask as a fellow doctor and…” your eyes lit up in quick realization, further adding,” as a fellow fuzzy puppies player.”

He raised a brow, crossing his arms and humming thoughtfully. “go on.”

----

‘It is un-lady like to kill someone with your bare hands on live tv.’

That is the sentence that was constantly echoing through Amy’s mind, holding her rage in a tight disciplinary grip, her hands almost ripping her clothes to shred with the sheer grip she has on them.

Is this truly her legacy? She couldn’t help but think. Is this what all her efforts winded up to? all this time spent on being true to herself, on mastering every skill she admired, all for it to be tied to the stereotypical beliefs of hers that she was constantly running from? Amy was enraged, she wanted to scream, to show them how mad she can get, how easily she can cause a wreckage of chaos with no one being able to stop her fury. And she was certain that Sticks was rooting for her to do exactly that. Burn the set down, smash everything up with your decorated hammer.

But, once again, the sentence echoed. Amy Rose was a lady. She was not a brutish man whom only speaks with their fists, even Knuckles, despite all his stupidity that comes from choosing brawn over brain, still is a gentleman when he wants to be. He still holds enough respect and honor to others that he doesn’t go smashing everything just because he feels like it. He is no brutish man, he was a honourable fighter. Sticks, despite all her ludicrous actions, always has the island’s best interest at heart, and yes maybe she did bite some civilians and possibly gave them rabies but— she still did it as a way of protecting the island, to save the most people she can. She is the reason why the jungle is so rich and luxurious, why it’s still alive and hasn’t fallen prey to the industrial, money hungry hands of businessmen like Chimp. In truth, this is who Chimp is. Not a comedian, not a celebrity, not a host, but a businessman. He follows trends, found a solution to a problem, and has made money off of it. People were craving a talk show of their own ever since seeing one in the abandoned cartoon tapes they found at sea, and Chimp provided them with this service.

Yes, everyone has a role here. Everyone has a part to play, and therefore, Amy can’t break away from her script, even if she wanted to. She needed to act poised and well-mannered. She needed to be a lady.

But god did she really wanna punch Chimp right now.

As more questions came and the more snarky yet polite answers she gave, she was beginning to feel a deep sorrow within her. A sense of hopelessness in the moment. Are all her efforts that unappreciated? Is no one ever going to appreciate the hard work she puts into everything she does? What's the point of doing them if no one will be grateful?

“Our next caller’s name is…Y/n L/n. take it away Y/n, ask Missy over here your inquistive question!” her eyes snap open wide from the mention of her name. Amy’s ear quickly sharpens, giving the camera a dumbfounded glance.

“Thank you, jackass.” Your amused voice goes through the speakers, and a sense of relief, amusement and excitement went through Amy’s heart, her once embarrassed gaze now filled with a sense of admiration, all topped off with a grin as she sees the befuddled expression Chimp wears, all while the audience laughs at the caller’s sheer audacity. “Lady Rose,” you start off, treating Amy with much more respect than Chimp, which makes him pout like an angry child. “ you mentioned something about ‘Interior design’ at the start of the show…well, you see, I have this amazing roommate. She has the best goddamn taste in the world. in fashion, paintings and even interior design, she has shown me the sheer beauty that can be seen in even the most mundane of things…I’m gonna get a treehouse soon and, I really, really wanna impress her…so do you have any good tips I could use?”

Amy couldn’t help but let out a huff of astonishment, looking at the camera gratefully, as if she was looking at you only. She gives a small smile, nods her head and leans back in the chair. “Of course, Y/n. I’ll tell you all you need to know…”

Seeing this as a golden opportunity, Sticks hijacked the technical department of the show, threatening or tying up anyone who tried to kick her out, all while keeping you on call with Amy. The show ended in Amy rambling on and on about her business, the audience finally taking her seriously and asking questions of their own, and soon, the once ridiculing and boring talk show has become some sort of a ted talk for Amy Rose, her dream come true.

------

The night was spent in a terrible, ache-filled sleep. And as you woke up with the worst bed-head known to man, you felt a bit dreadful at the fact that there was still no blue speedy in sight. Eggman, however, was blazing with utter fury, muttering curses to Sonic under his breath as he angrily tapped his telephone, leaving his hundredth voice message to him.

With a bit of a drowsy mind, your thoughts drift curiously into a territory you hadn't thought of before, and soon, you bite the bullet and shoot through the silence. “…how did you get here?”

“by walking up the stairs, obviously.” Eggman grumbled, eyes still glued to the telephone. You give a disgruntled hum at that.

“No..I mean…” you look at him as earnestly as you could. “How did you get here? on this island?”

Eggman froze, the dial soon forgotten as his head snapped back to you, a contemplative expression on his face. “…I…” his tone indicated that he wanted to start his story with utter confidence, to explain an epic tale of a villainous scheme, yet, his tone faltered mid-way, as his brows furrowed and his once manically excited grin turned to a befuddled frown. “…don’t remember..” he muttered as if it was more of a question for himself rather than an answer to yours. “ ..I believe I was..on my ship…yes, I woke up on my ship, and found myself here…” he then gives a thoughtful hum. “strange…how come I can’t remember how I got here?...” he then races to his computer, tapping his fingers away as his eyes scan the screens. You’re not sure what he’s exactly searching for, but, if you were a strange scientist who found themselves on a lost island, the first thing you’d do was look at security tapes within that very ship to see what exactly happened. You guessed Eggman was doing just that. “…nothing…” he gave a hum of displeasure, giving the screen a puzzled look. He sits quiet for a moment, but then shakes his head and waves his hands at you. “it doesn’t matter-“ he quickly dismissed. A little too quick for your taste. “all you need to know is that I got here to conquer the Island, and that petulant hedgehog you call a ‘friend’ is in my way.”

“but…why do you want to conquer the island?”

Eggman gives a pleased hum to your question, tapping a red button on his keyboard. “I thought you’d never ask!” he said in a sweetly villainous tone, sounds of machines clanking and engines running roar at the insides of the counter, which soon slid inside and came back up with… a mock-up mini version of an amusement park?....

“….are you serious?” you looked at him in utter disbelief and quite frankly, deep sense of confusion. “you’re…doing all of this to make an amusement park?”

“not just any amusement park.” He mused, taking out a small egg-shaped billboard he had in his pocket this entire time.” Egg-tropolis!” he neatly puts it on the top of the volcano. “a world of egg-tastically fun rides and robotic wonder! Where everything is a goldmine for mone-well…” he clears his throat. “ a gold-mine and safe haven for children! “

“…couldn’t you just…pick another island?” you proposed, and Eggman looked at you disappointed.

“do you truly think I’m dumb enough to not consider that?” Well, you are dumb enough to plan multiple egregious robot attacks on an island with little to no success all for the sake of an amusement park. However, that’s not something you could tell your captor, not unless you wanted to be turned into a robot yourself. Eggman then sighed. “I already tried to leave this place, but there’s some sort of strange barrier trapping us all inside.”

“…what.” You felt a sense of utter dread and confusion go through you. you weren;t even sure why such a fact was so dreadful for you. you never wanted to leave anyway, did you? then why be so glum that the very choice was taken away from you in the first place? “then..how the hell did I get in?”

“that’s the thing.” Eggman grumbled, once again clicking at his keyboard. “the Island lets anybody in, but nobody out. it’s like it locks itself from the outside.”

Strange. This is all too goddamn strange. There's a sense of hesitance and danger in the pits of your stomach, something that tells you the whole thing goes much deeper than a simple, magical and zany coincidence. Whatever it is, it’s..baffling, to say the least. The more you stay in this island, the less you know about it. you give a tired grumble, head falling back to the cold wall behind you as you watch eggman click away,’he’s probably doing something scientific that I’d never be able to comprehend…’

“here are the top ten ways to walk like a villain!” suddenly blares from the computer’s speakers, eggman quickly taking notes.

You hold back your amused huff.’…or…maybe not.’

----

Tick,tock,tick,tock,

The common and oddly comforting sound of the clock echoes through the lab, all of you watching it in boredom, the two robots tired, you uncomfortable, and eggman deeply agitated. As another minute passes by the clock, moving it’s long stick an inch closer, Eggman shoots up in rage. “where in the world is he?!” he groaned. “he should’ve been here yesterday! What, is he too good for me now? am I not a worthy adversary?” with fury bouncing in each step, eggman tears apart some of his blueprints, grabbing a new one and angrily scribbling on it. “I’ll show that pesky bug who exactly he;s ignoring right now—“

A zap of blue passes through you.

Chills run down your spine, a glimmer of hope igniting with your heart, your tired eyes shot up in sheer shock as you look around the room, your anxiety rejoicing and forming into a tranquil song of peace and amusement as you see your favorite speedster.

Sonic huffed in exhaustion, as if he was actually going quicker than he usually was, actually losing his breath from his sheer speed. His eyes quickly scanned across the room, widened and worried. When it finally lands on you, he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

“took you long enough!” Eggman growled, grabbing a remote control on the table. “Do you know how much my phone bill is gonna cost now?!”

Sonic rolls his eyes,twisting his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “I’m not the obsessed rival here, Egghead.” He gets into a fighting position. “let go of Y/n and I’ll consider going easy on your toys.”

Eggman’s eyebrows furrowed, head practically turning red in anger as he grumbled. “ They are not toys.” He then points to you. “and for your information, doctor Y/n here had one of the best captive experiences out there. didn’t you, doctor?”

“zero stars.” You immediately replied, Eggman giving you an offended gasp and Sonic grinning mischievously, eyes brimming with amusement. “ The staff kept asking me dumb questions and the room service was shit. My pillow was on the dirty ass floor.”

 “That explains your hair,” Sonic chuckled.

“---again, you’re not a guest here- you’re a captive.” Eggaman countered back, frowning. “you should see how the other villains treat their captives!”

You give Sonic a glare, though there was a playful glint to it. “ Can it, bluey. I’m not the one who's late here.”

“yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I have a good reason for it.” he then grins. “It's one hell of a story. you still up for chilli dogs after this?”

“Don’t try to ignore me!” Eggman yelled in annoyance, clicking the red button on his remote. “Let's see if you can even survive long enough to even see the outside world!”

As an army of bots runs across multiple sections of the room to your space, practically invading the entire laboratory in a defensive position, you look at Sonic sternly, a playful smile on your face. “I want those damn chili dogs, Sonic.”

Sonic snickered, putting his hands on the ground,his spikes igniting in electrical blue as he smirks. “Roger that, doc.”

----

You’re not sure how long the fight took, but you do know it was much less than an hour.

It seems like Eggman has completely forgotten what he wanted to do when Sonic got here, since it took so long for him to do so. Enraged and frazzled, he practically swarmed him with random bullshit hoping it could defeat his enemy, but of course, Sonic could easily speed through each and every bot, attacking them with rolling ease. When the dust settled and the last bot just straight up shut itself down to save the pain of being destroyed by the hero’s high kick, Sonic quickly stole Eggman’s remote and broke it, the lazer barriers of your tiny prison fading, your shoulders relaxin from relief, yet then wincing as the strain of the ropes hit you once more. God, your back will be destroyed from this experience, you just know it.

Sonic quickly unties you and gives you his hand. Your muscles cry out in freedom, a relaxed sigh leaving you as you take his hand to stand up, yet soon wobbling down and getting grabbed by him. your legs were like jelly, shocked by the sudden jolts of movement you’ve done after two straight days of none. Sonic looks at you with a  tinge of worry as you apologize sheepishly, holding onto him for support.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyes raking over your form to look for any injuries. You simply shrugged. “not really…unless you can call a bad cup of hot cocoa an attack.” You tried to joke, to lighten up the quieted mood of the place. Sonic smiled, rolling his eyes as he yoinked you up again, much to your shock.

“You can’t walk, and I can’t for the life of me walk slowly.” He argued before you could even mutter your protest, looking at you with a reassuring smile. “I’m just returning the favor.”

You knew what he meant. The day you carried him. you look at him playfully annoyed. “ I was returning your favor, idiot.”

“Well, let's just say this is returning the favor.” He shrugged, giving you a wink and grin. You rolled your eyes, giving up and wrapping your arms around his neck. He wanted to soon bolt out the door, yet your tap on his shoulder made him stop and look at you confused. You motioned for him to turn around, your figure not in front of a defeated and annoyed eggman.

“For what it’s worth,” you gave a small smile. “I enjoyed our conversations, Doctor.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, Eggman and Sonic looking at you with disbelief, the latter even more so than the former. Cubot and Orbot gave each other confused shrugs, unsure of what to make of this. Eggman gives a begrudging hum of approval, turning his head away from you both. “…….likewise, I guess.”

You smiled, and with a nod to the speedster, you were quickly ushered out of the infamous Eggman’s house, and saw the sunset cast over the island.

------

“Would you stop looking at me?! I can’t eat when someone’s staring!” you giggled, a wave of embarrassment jittering through you as you locked eyes with the excited hedgehog beside you. The chili dog in your hands was giving a sense of warmth through the freezing night beside the beach, the waves a calming allure.

“and miss the expression you’ll make when having your first ever chili dog?!” he shook his head, taking a bite of his own chili dog. “This is a once in a lifetime experience, doc! This is even more important than witnessing a baby’s first steps!”

“multiple parents will beg to differ.” You smile, amused by his eagerness for such a mundane meal. He scoffs in reply, crossing his arms. “ Well they obviously never tasted chili dogs. Speaking of which,” he looks at you with excitement again. “cmonnn, doc, don’t make me wait all day. Eat the chili dog! Eat the chili dog!” he chanted.

You quip a brow. “like how you made me wait two days for a rescue?” you acted disappointed, shaking your head and grimacing. “ you’re such a hypocrite speedy…”

He rolls his eyes, smacking his face and groaning a bit in shame and guilt. “I said I’m sorry, ok?” yet, he grins at you, knowing this was mere play. “ If you eat this now, I’ll never be late to your rescue ever again.”

“promise?”

“I swear on it.” he dramatically puts a hand on his heart. “If I’m ever late to your rescue, I’ll never eat a single chili dog ever again. I vow by it." He speaks in a deeply formal tone, unlike his usual carefree and sarcastic one. It makes you giggle, and sonic beams at your lifted mood, despite the troubles you’ve been through these past few days.

“Then I shall remember this vow, Sonic T.hedgeheog,” you give him a cheshire grin, holding a hand on your heart. “Let the record show that my only reason for eating this chili-filled mess is through the vow and promise of a prosperous future, full of rescues and quick speed.” He laughed alongside you, and soon, an exciting silence filled the room as you brought the chili dog closer to your mouth and took a bite.

“….well?” Sonic asked, an edge of excitement and inquisition in his voice. “Do you like it?....”

“it’s….” you chew a bit more, gulping it down slowly, only to further tease him with your answer. You then smiled and nodded your head. “It's pretty good.”

“See?! I told you!” he jumped in excitement, grinning with triumph. “it’s the best kind of hot dog- no, best kind of food, out there!”

“it’s certainly better than a normal hot dog..” you take another bite, savoring the spiciness of the chili. “much better than anything Meh Burger has, I’ll give you that.” You gulped, then nudged his shoulder. “so…anything else happen besides the whole guilt-tripping thing?” After the initial rescue, Sonic brought you back to your shared home with Amy, explaining the reason for his absence in the two days. Apparently, some civilization in the far corners of the island were constantly attacked by robbers, and after saving them, the people guilt-tripped Sonic and Tails into staying for the night, and were planning on making them live as their guardians forever.

“except the stressful event of going through a thousand phone mails Egghead sent me about kidnapping you? “ Sonic sighed, leaning back on the tree. “nope, nothing to tell.”

“..you gotta admit though, the first message was hilarious.” You giggled.

Sonic chuckled, giving you a reluctant nod. “It was pretty bold, I won't lie…”He smiled. “you’re always full of surprise, aren't you,doc?”

You merely shrug pridefully, giving a victorious smile to the roll of his eyes. You lean back on the tree beside him, both quietly listening to the waves of the water as you look up to the sky. Stuck in a river of your thoughts, you take out your phone and sigh.

“What's wrong?” Sonic turns back to look at you better, giving you a curious glance. You hold out your phone to him, showing the lack of battery power left. “it’s on its last breath.” You reply, scrolling through the pictures and messages that have accumulated your phone over the years.

 Sonic looks at you a bit puzzled. “Can’t you ask Tails to fix it?”

“he tried to but..it didn’t work.” It was the first thing you’ve done on your second day here, immediately after noticing the damaged charger, you brought it back to Tails for repair, only for him to look at you apologetically and explain how the parts needed for it can’t be found easily on the island, especially since the electrical outlet and electricity of your device in general is completely different from the one the island uses. You noted to yourself to one day research a bit more about this ever-confusing island, especially since you’re probably gonna live here for the rest of your life, given eggman’s explanation of the supposed ‘barrier’.

“damn..” Sonic gives you an apologetic look, one you quickly shook your head to and tried to ease his worry. “It'll be fine.” You shrugged. “I didn’t really use it much here anyway…the only thing I’ll miss is my songs..” you look back at the screen, a nostalgic feeling resurfacing within you as you click the play button, a song erupting from your phone’s speakers. It was one of your favorite songs, one that made you feel upbeat and energetic, the beat stuck in your brain like a worm, constantly feeling the need to dance to it. like right now.

You swish from side to side at first, nudging Sonic playfully as he huffs in a mix of annoyance and amusement by your actions, then, you grin playfully at him, taking note of the seemingly grumpy mood the ever-so-usually-ecstatic your companion has. You get up, eyes on him as you swish around, dancing with zero coordinance and swaying with the beat, lip-syncing the song terribly as you hold out a hand to him.

“nope.” He shakes his head, then brings his arms up to rest under his neck, getting into a more relaxed position, wanting the action to urge you to give up on this newfound quest of yours. “I’m fine right here.” he gives a fake relaxed hum, closing his eyes, yet peering open one to see if you’ve given up or not, huffing in amusement when he sees your determined insistence.

“cmonnn speedy,” you reenact the tone he had when he urged you to take a bite of the chili dog. “It's not everyday I get to see the sonic the hedgehog dance!!”

“Oh yeah? Well you won’t see it today either.” Sonic smirked at your grumble, snickering as he adjusted himself on the tree. “I don’t dance, doc. Never have, never will.”

“nonsense,” you still continued to sway around a bit with the beat as you continued. “you look like someone who does fortnite dances.”

His eyes widened, looking at you with shocked giddy. “the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he couldn’;t helo but laugh, never expecting you to be one for jabs.

“you heard me, speedy.” You smirked. “Only the people who are shit at dancing are scared to dance. So tell me, speedster, are you a loser at dancing?” you questioned, a hint of competitiveness in your voice. Sonic froze, giving you a begrudging, respectful nod.

“Touche doc…touche…” he mutters as he gets up, rolling his eyes as you outstretch your hands for him once more, grabbing it and letting you pull him to the sand and sway with him. as your favorite part of the song comes, you jump excitedly, looking at him determined as you terribly lip-sync the part with an imaginary microphone in your hand, knowing fully well that you’re the complete definition of cringe. Sonic looks at you amused, a bit impressed and endeared by your walls crumbling down now, feeling comfortable enough to do such silly things next to him. to show his appreciation, he starts trying to dance silly with you, of course, not before checking to see if anyone was watching. With reassurance that no one was within the beach other than you two idiots, he starts dancing and lip-syncing with you, smiling as he sees you giggle in utter giddy and hold his hand as you twirl around, unabashedly and shamelessly enjoying your time with no fear of the consequence. It’s admirable, really. Sonic noticed that you were one who often feared what people think of you, who often felt uncomfortable by the gaze of others, by the judgement of theirs. It was something completely noticeable on your first days here. and yet, in these two months, you’re finally breaking out of your shell. At least, in front of him. and he feels proud, in fact, he feels honored to be the one who witnesses your first ever splash of shameless silliness and tom-foolery, uncaring of who might see you. you feel comfortable enough to do this now.

You feel comfortable enough to do this with him.

You feel comfortable with him.

It's strange how this very thought makes Sonic feel a sense of pride, some sense of accomplishment and gladness for such a fact. But it’s here, warm and fuzzy, making him jolt with the intense giddiness that you were erupting with and now he’s jumping alongside you, terribly lip-syncing next to you as for a moment, he forgets his cool guy, heroic façade, he forgets his own sarcasm, his responsibilities, his self-image and everything around him. In this moment, all that mattered was that life beside you was fun, that you could make even the dumbest of things somehow excitable. He never cared for dancing, always found it boring and a tad embarrassing. Yet with you, it felt fun. With you, he now understood what dance truly is, why people like it so much. As you hold your hand in his and circle around the place, jump up and down and sway left and right with utterly cringe-worthy and non-professional dance moves, the glue of exhaustion he felt these past few days was washed away with the shores, and he was left with you, dancing till the phone’s battery dies out.

To you, you wouldn’t have spent your last remaining phone batteries any other way. This truly was the perfect way to waste it, the best way to say goodbye to your old world, and welcome the new one. with sonic by your side, dancing with you through it all.

---------

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you sooner.” Sonic heaved out, on the ground beside you. both of you were trying to catch your breath, your phone finally died. You nudge him, which he winces at, giving you an annoyed grumble.

“stop apologizing, dumbass.” You smiled, gazing at him softly. “You don’t need to always be the hero.”

He stays quiet at that, eyes slightly widened, yet contemplative and in deep thought, he looks up at the sky once more, taking a deep breath. “..but I do.”

“hm?”

“I do have to be the hero.” He muttered, hand going up to the sky, as if he was trying to reach the stars. He then opened his palm, looking at his gloves thoughtfully. “I mean…everyone wants me to be the hero. The Gogobas, the townsfolk, eggman, you guys….you all want me to be the hero. To save the day.”

“I don’t.” you replied. “I didn’t expect you to save me.”

“but you wanted to, didn’t you?”

You stay silent at that. A pit of guilt forming in your gut.

“that still doesn’t make it right.” you slowly reach out your own hand, having it be next to his. “ That doesn’t mean you have to be the hero. It just means I’m pathetic and I need to learn how to fight for myself.”

“you’re not pathetic.” Sonic argued, hand mindlessly getting a bit closer to yours. “you’re one of the strongest people I know. and these?” he points to the scars on your arm. The ones who you got from eggman’s lasers. “These are proof of it.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, leaning it a bit closer to his. “..don’t change the subject, Sonic.” You feel him jolt, freeze a bit as you see the crack in his ploy. “you’re sweet…but don’t go changing the subject to me. this is about you.”

He stays silent. Only the voice of crickets and waves could be heard as your hands were held up in the sky, as if you were both touching the stars above. His hand slowly comes to hold yours. “….i meant what I said though.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

“I saw Sticks once fight a bear.”

“Sticks is crazy, not brave.” He quipped, and you couldn’t help but laugh, turning around and letting both of your hands fall to the ground, still entwined as you lock eyes with him. your amused smile turns into a thoughtful one, tilting your head and peering at him concerned. “….I stand by what I said.” You mumble. “…you don’t need to be a hero. If not to them, then to me. you don’t need to be a hero with me. I don’t want a hero. I want Sonic.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching as he looked at you dumbfounded, one that was laced with admiration. You give his hand a squeeze, then turn around to look at the sky, heart filled with determination. “and I’m not just saying that. I’ll prove it to you, speedy.” You hummed. “I’ll show you that you don’t need to hold responsibility over my safety, you don’t need to feel pressured by me. ever.”

“that’s not—“

“I know, it’s not.” You quickly cut him off. “But you deserve better. And I want to give you something better.”

He stays quiet, gaze never tearing away from you as you stare at the stars, planning and preparing for your goal. He wondered, what was going on in that overthinking head of yours? Is your mind ever tired of thinking? Or is this just normal for smart people like you?

Whatever it was, it made Sonic feel a sense of calm wash over him. a chuckle leaves him, looking back up to the sky, hands still entwined with yours.

“….I’m glad you’re here, doc.”

------A/N-------

*barges into the room all bloody and panting, eyes dead shot and bags under them, twitching like crazy, body shaking maddeningly as she slams some crumbled paper onto the table, then grabs you by the shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes* IM ALIVE. I LIVED. I SURVIVED. IM HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE *explodes*

Hi , hello, bonjour, salam, I’m alive, barely. No I did not have a good few years. Nope this break was absolutely not intentional. Yes I missed you all. yes OF COURSE this fic is gonna be continued. No I don’t know when the next chapter will be, ok? Ok.

Ok, so now for the long explanation.

Hello folks! A lot has happened these past few years, and I deeply and sincerely apologize for the late update. I honestly can’t even believe I finally finished this chapter…it feels surreal. This chapter has been in production for like.. three years??? And there are multiple reasons for it.

1-     I’ve been going through a lot lately.like, A LOT. As most of you know, most of y/n’s traumatic experiences root from my own experience, and since I’m a minor, I’m still living in the dysfunctional house I’ve been inspired to write about. Not only that, I began the horrific experience of socializing with fellow peers at the incredibly late age of 15, and now, two years later, I am beginning to remember why I never wanted to socialize in the first place. Senseless drama, non-communicative relationships, and lots and lots of bullying. Now, you may be asking, why was I bullied, well, this leads to

2-      Reason no.2. I have been officially diagnosed with ADHD, depression and Anxiety. Honestly, I’ve known this fact about me for a very, very long time. I noticed how most of my ‘irregular’ actions that my family sees as ‘regular’ are ones that my own father and dad’s side of the family all have, and therefore whenever I tried to explain my mental health issues or basic life issues like not being able to focus well or study like a normal person does, my parents would always undermine it and say I’m merely overreacting. However, after years of fighting, I was finally able to get myself a therapist, and she was so utterly horrified by my test results and conditions that she immediately told my parents to have me checked and medicated lmaooooo. So yeah, after some testing, they found out I wasn’t bluffing. I got all the big three’s from my dad. Adhd, depression and anxiety. This journey of mine caused a lot of mental anguish, because I realize why I always felt so out of place and different from my fellow peers, and I now fully understood why my classmates have been bullying me. it was because I was the ‘weird kid’ of my class. I was the one who often talked to herself, who when overwhelmed with emotions goes around the room walking and muttering to herself (though in front of them, this only happened once. But i'm very certain they saw this as a way of me wanting to get attention or smth and the bad vibes have started since then) I was the weird girl who could speak english way better than her own mother tongue, so she’s definitely just doing it for attention, right? when in reality, I was NOT doing it for attention. I genuinely had a problem with my country's main language, and all my friends and family knew this. but they thought that this was just a way to gain ‘attention’ because in my country, mastering the english language is a very admirable trait. So yeah, my neurodivergency has caused me to go through a lot of mental abuse and sometimes even physical from both my school and my own home. This made me be in a horrible headspace, and for a very long while I stopped writing all together. I couldn’t write a single thing.

3-     I have a terrible, TERRIBLE perfectionist mindset. I often look at something I wrote two weeks ago and cringe. It's usually worse when I notice that the thing I wrote didn’t get much attention. For example, I wanted to write a complete slugterra fic, but since the first chapter didn’t get much attention (and frankly, writing was, it was shit.) I felt anxious and put myself through a lot of pressure into making sure my writing doesn’t falter. This led me into ignoring stranded, because I feared that if I started writing, ill regret what I wrote again and completely rewrite it. this happened a lot of times. Over 10k words have been lost at sea now with all the goddamn rewrites i've done. Not to mention, I somehow got possessed by some writing spirit and wrote over 30k words oneshot for one unpopular character. Obviously, it didn’t get as much attention as I was hoping for (though I did receive incredibly lovely comments) and once again, I felt like shit lmao. I kept thinking that perhaps I am just a god awful writer, that maybe I’m just some cringey loser who's shit at writing and should just never write again. just dumb negative thoughts like that. I’ve began to become incredibly and deeply insecure over my writing, and added with my perfectionist mindset, it just ruined everything.

4-     Life. i've just been so busy with life man. im literally gonna take an exam tomorrow and I didn’t study shit for it LMAO. I'm in my last year of highschool rn, and when I started this fic, I was at..like the start of highschool. So yeah, these past three years I’ve been through hell. Especially since I’m in an art school. It’s been dreadful. I’ve lost all my passion for art as a whole and felt incompetent at drawing and sketching, which are the main basis of getting good at art. There’s also been an abundant amount of pressure on me about my future, since I NEED to get good at art, but I no matter how hard I practiced, I kept coming back empty handed. I felt so useless. I felt like a complete loser. And my teachers and classmates were NOT helping lmao. But now, thankfully, I think im beginning to see some improvement in it. if you guys have any tips, I’d be incredibly grateful.

Ummm anyway if you want more chapters PLEASE COMMENT!! RAMBLE!!!! TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER!!! I want to personally thank all the dear lovely readers who've been commenting for me to give out an update to this fic. Though yeah some authors think its annoying, I ACTUALLY FIND IT VERY ENDEARING!!!! SO DO THAT!!!! RAHH!!! I love knowing that someone wants to hear more of my silly stories, so thank you so much to all the folks who kept up with me and thank you all SO SO SO MUCH for being patient with me!!! I hope you liked this chapter!!! I promise we’ll have MUCH more sonic interactions in the future. We’re finally digging into the cusps of act 1. Miueheheheehhe I CANNOT wait to write it. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!!! BYE!!! OH ALSO IM SO SO SORRY IF THIS CHAPTER SEEMED DRY IT HAD TO BE A LORE-DUMP SO I CAN EASILY WRITE MORE SONIC STUFF IN THE FUTURE. THIS IS A SLOWBURN CHAT IM SORRY LMAOO LRMKLFELKMGRW

[tkwrites]

Messages - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Messages 

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: smut (18+ only), mutual masturbation, phone sex (sort of) 

Summary: Missing him something fierce, Sarah sends Quinn a video of herself in his bed. 

Word count: 1,600

Comments: 2 stories in 2 days? Who am I? In all seriousness, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and tonight felt like a good night for it to go into the world. 

This snapshot is way out of the beginning-ish timeline I’ve been sticking to for a while. Hope you enjoy! 

Messages

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Don’t listen until you’re alone. 

Quinn was always interested when Sarah messaged him in the middle of the day. She was usually in school, so if she had something to say, it was important. 

This cryptic message, though, really piqued his interest. 

A few seconds later, a video came through. The preview was black. He glanced around at the guys on the bus. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, and his airpods were in, so no one would overhear. 

It was likely just her telling him a story with a lot of foul language. She always prefaced those this same way, not wanting anyone else to overhear despite his insistence that anyone he hung around with wouldn't be bothered. 

So, he took the chance and pressed play. 

Nothing changed. The screen stayed black, and it was quiet for a long while. He clicked to make sure it was playing. The progress bar at the bottom informed him there were two minutes left. The lighting was so dim, he wasn’t sure if he could see something in the top corner of the screen or not. 

Then came the sound of her breathing - hitched, quick breaths that reminded him distinctly of being in bed with her. Tiny little moans followed. The kind that always made him want to make her really moan. 

He gulped. 

Eyes glued to the screen, Quinn listened as her breathy moans got louder. 

Suddenly, it clicked. The video was of the ceiling. Of his ceiling. He could just make out the outline of the light fixture over his bed. The idea of her touching herself in his bed almost made him moan out loud. 

His thoughts raced along with his heart. 

He'd given her a key a few weeks before after she told him she liked to study there - it was so beautiful and so much quieter than her place or anywhere on campus. There was no point in it sitting empty while he was on the road, especially when she studied there when he was home, anyway. 

Never in a million years had he thought she would be masturbating in his bed. 

“Quinn,” her voice swam through his veins. His tongue felt heavy with the longing to kiss her, and his suit pants grew uncomfortably tight. 

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

HOLY SHIT.

He clicked out of the video, cutting off her next words that sounded like they might be, "I wish -"

He couldn't listen to this here. They were just about to get to PNC. He would have to walk into the arena in less than 10 minutes with photographers and social media teams taking pictures and videos. He couldn’t walk off the bus with his lower half standing at attention like this. He’d be all over the internet in no time. Chirped by the team and his friends for the rest of his life. 

Closing his eyes, he thought about swimming in the lake, taking a cold shower, and his high school math teacher. 

His body finally relaxed. 

What the hell, Sarah? He messaged her then, ignoring the pull in his stomach to click on the video again. He could do it later, after a win over the Hurricanes. I’m on the bus.

I TOLD YOU TO LISTEN ALONE!

No one else heard. WHY would you send this in the middle of the day? And tell me not to watch it! Of course I’m watching it with that warning. 

Deciding she ought to just be honest, Sarah chewed her lip as she typed, I didn’t want to lose the nerve. I felt like if I waited until tonight, I might chicken out. I thought you were in the arena already. 

Quinn almost asked her why she was sending it in the first place. They’d had phone sex only once, and that was just two nights ago, when he had an evening off with no roommate and could catch her before bed with the time change. It had been exciting and awkward, but ultimately fulfilling for both of them. Even still, he didn't really expect it to happen again until his next road trip.

I’m sorry if I messed up your pre-game.

A smile melted onto his face. You didn't. Caught me off guard is all.

I did warn you. 

“What’s got you blushing, Huggy?” Connor asked, leaning over to look at the phone screen.

At least 10 heads swiveled to look at him, and despite his attempts to remain cool, Quinn felt his face get warmer. 

“Nothing,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

Connor arched an eyebrow, but didn't press. 

In the locker room, before putting his phone away, he sent her one last message before the game. 

Miss you. Call you after. 

Finally, alone in his hotel room after a hard fought win over the Hurricanes, Quinn called Sarah. It was nearly midnight in Vancouver. She might be sleeping, but he always called, even if just to leave a message. 

“Hey,” she answered, voice husky and groggy. 

“Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better now,” he said, sitting on the end of the bed, glad to be out of his suit and in his basketball shorts.

“You played so good tonight, Q.”

“Thanks,” he said. “How was your day?” 

He knew he should let her go back to sleep, but he wanted to keep talking a little longer. Missing her was a physical thing to him now. An elephant in every hotel room.

“Fine,” she said before yawning loudly. “Nothing major to report.”

“Other than you sent me a video so I could hear you getting yourself off in my bed.” He tried to say it nonchalantly, but it still came out a little desperate. 

She laughed. “True. That was a pretty big thing.”

“Why did you do it?” he asked. “Not that I'm complaining, but you've never done anything like this before."

Sarah rolled over, switching the phone to her other ear. 

“Honestly? I'm ovulating, and this morning I was so horny I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I missed you so much, and your bed smells so much like you, and I kept thinking, wouldn't it be hot if Quinn could hear me right now?”

He hummed. 

“And then I thought, he could, technology is a thing. So I started recording and just kept thinking about you in your hotel room, getting off to the sound of me and my vibrator. And God, it was so hot. I mean, you know.”

“I don't,” he said, his voice pitched higher. He didn't even need her video. He was getting worked up right now. 

“You haven't listened yet?”

“I haven't been alone.” It was the worst part of playing a team sport. He had so little time to himself.  

She giggled, but it was interrupted by another yawn. 

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I'll call you tomorrow. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Night Quinn. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sarah. Four more days.”

“Four more days,” she repeated. “I can't wait to see you.”

“Me either. Get some sleep now.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Hitting the end button, he flopped back on the bed and sighed. Before Sarah had come into his life, he would have been out partying, taking in the nightlife with the prospect of a late afternoon practice the next day, and nothing to worry about in the morning. Now, it felt pointless. He wanted Sarah. He didn’t want anyone else. He never really liked hookups, even when he was younger and single - it took him too long to open up to people - but traveling away from her was harder than he had expected. 

He lay there for a minute, thinking of her before his curiosity and excitement got the best of him, and he played the video. Setting the phone next to him, he closed his eyes. It was easy to imagine her in his bed that morning, wanting him. 

“Quinn,” she moaned, “I wish you were here.” 

“I wish I was too,” he groaned, running his hand up and down his length that he’d pulled out of his shorts.

She began to grunt softly. It was something she always did when she was trying to get to the right spot or angle. 

His breathing began to huff. 

“Do you like it, Q?” 

“Yes,” he all but moaned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad he’d clicked off the video earlier that day. If he’d gotten this far into it, he wasn't sure he could have stayed quiet. 

Here, in the dim light of a nice hotel he didn’t remember the name of, the sound of the city all around him, Quinn let his mind focus on Sarah, imagining it was her hand on his hard cock rather than his own. 

“I can’t wait to have you home and have you inside me.” 

His mind flew into a frenzy. He was never deleting this video.

She made a louder noise then and whined, “Quinn, I’m so close.” 

God, he was too. 

The tell-tale sound of her coming orgasm spilled out of his phone - sheets rustling, panted breaths, little moans and mewls. 

Her voice tipped high, and he knew she was riding a wave of pleasure. 

He squeezed his hand, trying to get a more realistic feeling. Grunting, gutterally and deep, he spilled onto his own chest. 

His breathing slowed down as he lay there, feeling his heart pound in his chest. 

“I miss you, Quinn," she said before the phone went silent. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[ad-caelestia]

i've spent a lot of time saying "here's what you could do" as a witch versus "here is what i actually do" as a witch, so let's go.

as much as i try to stir my coffee in one direction or another, it always ends up counter-clockwise - instead of seeing it as a mistake, i just work around it by thinking of it like, i'm banishing (counter-clockwise) negativity from my day versus attracting (clockwise) positivity.

i tend to use colors that align with planets versus other folkloric associations - instead of a green candle for money, i'll use a blue one because blue is associated with jupiter which is associated with wealth and good fortune. lucky for me, all the other planets have colors that align appropriately so i don't have to think about those as much (sun - gold, moon - silver, mercury - ehhhhh a mix of like, yellow/violet/indigo, venus - baby pink/mint, mars - red/rust, etc etc.).

i have a money bowl that i redo on the first of every month and i set a cinnamon stick above my front door for prosperity - i have a tiny little angel of a bunny whose health means more to me than the ritualistic act of blowing cinnamon into your home from outside the front door.

my "grimoire" or book of shadows or WHATEVER you wanna call it lives on my computer via onenote and is also scattered through many many notebooks i have collected over the years - if i'm being honest, i am way too picky about my handwriting and messing things up when i am writing in pen that i would just rather keep it somewhere i can type and alt+f to get where i need to go.

my main altar lives on a pretty gold and faux marble bookshelf but honestly, my whole house is my altar - there are sacred spaces at every corner if you know what to look for.

if i want something for my craft, i try to repurpose old things or thrift for them - you'd be amazed what you can do with some of the most basic things (i found my money bowl, which is a crystal dish, at the thrift store for 99 cents); the dollar 25 tree is also a good spot to shop for cheap trinkets.

much of my craft is muscle memory, which has come from YEARS of practice - if i'm cooking and need to use like, basil for example (luck, money, protection), i just kind of already know what it's "good for" and keep that in the front of my mind while i'm cooking so the intent doesn't get buried.

i really REALLY prefer to make my own stuff but that's not always feasible - i really thought the other day that i could just start making candles for myself and had to put that thought on HOLD because let's be real, i'm not doing all that. instead, i will continue to use all the chime candles i have collected over the years instead of immediately going out to find something new.

cleansing ritual who? every time i mop my floor or clean the baseboards or wipe down the counter, i'm cleansing my space. i very much believe that mundane cleaning can be equally as magical and therapeutic if the intent is there.

same thing with literally any other magical thing i do these days: i won't go digging for new items to serve me and my spellwork, i will just use what i already have.

doing spells when the opportunity presents itself versus days of planning - i got a new body wash the other day whose main ingredient and scent is rose so i figured i could use it for a glamour at some point; needed some cinnamon the other day for pancakes and stashed some away for use as a catalyst later on; stuck a bay leaf in my pasta sauce while cooking and made a little wish beforehand.

tethers. everywhere. this one's a bit personal for me but generally speaking, i like to tie energy to a physical object and store it for later use.

i have never buried anything in my yard for any reason - i usually just stick it in a box if the spell isn't finished, cleanse and reuse, or discard all together after thanking it for its assistance.

i swear i have a mean tarot deck and a nice one so i tend to be biased and choose accordingly. 🙃

i also have two pendulums i don't use and a set of blue goldstone runes that i have had for 8 years but don't touch anymore. let that be a gentle reminder that you don't have to do all the things, i promise.

anyway, those are some things about my craft ok bye