#( is she drunk? is she sober? the world may never know )

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 22

Warnings: none. mostly fluff. slight jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: The summer days get hotter and your feelings confuse you more and more. A day at the lake might make things better.. or worse.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: So, I really really struggled with this chapter and spent more time rewriting it than actually writing it. I'm sorry if it seems a little scattered and rushed, I promise the next one will be better. @hellfire--cult thank you as always, you were such a big help, you always are but especially with this chapter so thank you, love

series masterlist

-

Steve never thought that he would end up here. Working at some ice cream shop with a girl who despised him for the first few weeks. He couldn’t blame her. Robin is your friend, she knows what he did to you and it’s not just that. Up until this spring, he didn’t even really know who she was, she was just someone he passed by in school and didn’t even bother to glance at or even acknowledge.

Now that he got to know her a little, he couldn’t help but take a liking towards her. She may be snappy at times but she is.. cool. He likes her. Not in the way he liked Nancy or you. But, in a way he should’ve liked Nancy – just as a friend. 

He calls her friend. Robin refuses to call him that. 

She likes to pretend that they are enemies but really, they finally get along after weeks of bickering at Scoops Ahoy. After a little incident that got them locked up in the storage room for a whole night, they got even closer – who knew that weed and a little heart to heart would get them to like each other?

Robin looks at Steve differently now, her looks aren’t filled with hate or annoyance anymore – well, she still rolls her eyes and makes fun of him but it’s not the same anymore. 

Sometimes when you’re around, she gives him pitiful looks. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want or even deserve pity, not from her, not from anyone.

She is looking at him with that look right now. 

He sighs, trying to give her somewhat of a smile before he looks down at the red solo cup in his hand. Your giggles make his heart flutter and hurt at the same time. You are sitting on one of the logs around the fire, with Eddie. His jacket is wrapped around your shoulders, your legs are thrown over his thigh, you are practically sitting on his lap. You are nodding along to something he’s saying. 

You two are in your own little world, ignoring the rest of the people around you. It’s hard to tell what the two of you are. Every day, he wonders if you have made that move yet. The one he made with you back when you went from friends to something more. 

People are celebrating the fourth of July with a bonfire party at Lovers Lake, just like every year. In all the previous years before this one, you were by his side, giggling at something he would say, wearing his jacket, sitting on his lap. 

Now you sit there with Eddie. 

And it all feels so wrong, you shouldn’t be there with Eddie. 

You belong with him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he looks at her, nodding. 

She tilts her head, giving him another pitiful look. 

“You’re not drunk, are you?” 

He shakes his head, chuckling softly, “no, whenever I get drunk or high I end up doing or saying something stupid.” 

She chuckles, though, it’s more of a sad chuckle. When they got stuck in the storage room, Steve opened up about a lot of things – things that he would have never talked about had he been sober. 

He let her have a look inside. 

Robin didn’t think that she would ever understand Steve and why he left you. But, she understands him now, a little. 

He was scared of how much he loved you. 

“Do you wanna go home?” 

“Nah, I’m your ride, remember?” 

She pats his back, giving him a smile, “that’s right, dude. You should go and have some fun.”

He snorts, shaking his head. He glances at you, not expecting to see you looking at him – staring at him. He can’t read the look in your eyes but he can see the smile that tugs at your lips. You raise your hand, waving at him, shyly.  

His eyes light up, his lips twitch. 

Robin notices the look on his face, the happiness that takes over in an instant. She follows his gaze. 

“Do you wanna go talk to her?” Robin asks, nudging his shoulder.

He looks at you with softened eyes. His shoulders fall when you break eye contact, turning away from him to face Eddie again. 

“No,” he whispers. 

“Why not?” Robin asks, knowing that he wants to talk to you.

“She’s with Eddie.”

“So? You talk to her every time they come to Scoops together.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Steve nudges his chin towards you, “look at them.”

Robin sighs, looking over at you and Eddie. His arm is now wrapped around your shoulder, he is smiling as you whisper something in his ear. 

“I won’t interrupt that.”

She knows how Steve feels about you, she knows how Eddie feels about you but, what she doesn’t know is how you feel about them or how you feel in general. You don’t talk about your feelings, you don’t know how to, every time you did try to talk about them with her, you fell into a ramble, mixing up words, stringing together sentences that would make no sense, confusing both her and yourself. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

You used to be able to talk about your feelings. You never rambled or broke down in the middle of a sentence and she felt like you were getting better after each conversation you had. 

Then, you went on that date with Ray and everything went downhill after that. 

You spent so much time trying to get over the pain that Steve had caused you. You got stronger and more confident. And it seemed as though you got – or, started to get over him. It took months to get up and all it took was a night to fall back down. 

She sighs. 

“I get it, Steve.”

-

“Careful.”

“I am careful!” 

“No, you’re not! You’ve been on this ladder unsupervised.” 

“So?”

“So? You’re a clutz!” 

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“No, I’m not, Eddie.” 

You finish taping the new Metallica poster to the wall, glancing down at him, “alright, give me the next one, please?” 

Eddie chuckles, he lets go of the ladder and leans down, reaching for the last poster in the box. He unrolls it and his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, that’s a new Iron Maiden poster!” He gasps, staring up at you with big eyes. 

You giggle, nodding, “I ‘accidentally’ ordered two.”

He furrows his brows. 

“Got one extra for you.”

His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face.

“No fucking way!”

You laugh at his little outburst. 

“It’s in the breakroom, I’ll get it after I put this one up,” you say, pointing to the poster in his hand. 

“You’re the best, did I ever tell you that? In case I haven’t, you’re the best, sweetheart!” 

He holds it out for you, grinning at you as your eyes meet. 

You shake your head in amusement, giggling, “I think you are the best but thanks.”

He grabs the ladder again, eying you with a smile on his face. 

To know that you thought of him while making orders for the store, to know that you got something for him, something that he didn’t even ask for, makes him so happy. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” You ask. 

He watches the way you furrow your brows as you tape the poster right next to the Metallica one. You bite your lip, focusing on getting it even. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, what do you feel like doing?” 

“Dinner and a movie night?” You suggest, “Heather is throwing a party but I don’t feel like going.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So, dinner and movies it is.” 

“Sounds perfect to me, bab– s-sweetheart,” he clears his throat. 

Baby. He wanted to call you baby. 

Your cheeks heat up. You dare to glance at him, finding him looking completely flustered. His eyes are closed, his brows are knit together and his cheeks glow red. Cute. You have to suppress a giggle. 

“Alright, all done!” You clap your hands together after finishing hanging up the last poster. You grab the tape and the scissors, handing them to Eddie before you make your way down the ladder. 

“Careful,” he teases you. 

You only roll your eyes in response. You jump on the ground, looking up at him with a proud smile, “see? Not a clutz.” 

You shouldn’t have spoken too soon. The moment you take a step forward, you trip over the open box on the ground, stumbling forward. His hands land on your waist.

Your hands fall to his chest, your knee buckles but you don’t fall, he holds you tightly. 

“Not a clutz, huh?” He chuckles as he looks down at you. 

“That was an accident,” you pout, looking up into his eyes. 

You furrow your brows, his racing heart that you feel beneath your touch pulls your attention to his chest and for the first time, you notice how much bigger he actually is, how much taller he is. 

How did you not notice before?

“Hey guys!” 

Robin’s panicked voice causes the both of you to flinch. You both turn to look at her, frowning in confusion when you see the way she looks between you both. 

You slowly step away from Eddie. 

Why is she looking at you like that? Nothing happened.

“Hey,” you smile as you lean down, picking up the empty box. 

Eddie gives Robin a questioning look, tilting his head to the side. 

Her eyes are wide and she’s smiling, nervously. 

What the hell is she so nervous about?

A moment later, Steve walks into the store. Oh, right. Her new best friend, the one who gets jealous at every interaction he sees between you and him. Eddie rolls his eyes, not at him but at Robin and how protective she is of his feelings.

“Oh hey,” Steve mumbles, turning to look at Robin in surprise, “you come here on your day off?” 

She nods, stepping further into the store, “yep.”

“Buying new records for the car you don’t have?” He teases, smirking. 

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes. 

He chuckles and finally turns to face you. 

“Hey.”

You smile at him, “hi.”

Steve glances at Eddie who turns away, pretending to look around.

“So uh, what are you two doing here?” You ask, chuckling. 

Robin raises her brows, pointing at Eddie, “what’s he doing here?”

You walk behind the counter, putting the box down. You reach for the drink on the counter, lifting it up, “he brought me coffee and lunch.”

Robin nods, tilting her head, she smiles at Eddie, “you’re such a sweet friend, Eddie.”

He rolls his eyes at her, mumbling something under his breath before he turns away again. 

“I uh– I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend lunch break with me but, I see you got something already,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair as he looks down. 

“Oh, maybe next time?” You ask, trying to give him a smile.

‘Maybe next time’ sounds like a nicer version of ‘no, thank you.’

Steve knew that it was a mistake to come here and ask you to spend time with him, alone. But, he wanted to try. 

“W-We can go out for lunch together… on Monday?” You offer. 

His eyes light up and he looks up from the counter, he nods with a smile on his face. 

“I’d love to.”

He smiles at you and you smile at him. Neither of you notice the annoyed look on Eddie’s face. 

“And I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the lake tomorrow? You, me, Chrissy,” Robin smiles, “and your two uh–” she stops herself from saying what she actually wants to say as she gestures to Steve and Eddie, “buddies.” 

Steve squints his eyes at her, “buddies?” He whispers. 

“It’s supposed to get super hot tomorrow,” Robin says, ignoring Steve and Eddie’s glare. 

“Uh– sure, why not,” you shrug, “Eddie, do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You lift your brows, giving her a smile, “great.”

She lifts her hands, giving you two thumbs up, “great,” she grins, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

-

You should have known that Robin and Chrissy wouldn’t be here on time – poor Steve is probably in his car waiting for them. A part of you is relieved that Eddie didn’t have to pick them up though, you would still be waiting for them. 

You and Eddie are sitting on a large picnic blanket, looking at the water as you both snack on the grapes you brought. You are still in your sundress but the longer you sit out in the sun, the more you feel like ripping it off and jumping into the cold water. 

There aren’t many people around, a few kids with their parents, some teenagers you recognize from school but you and Eddie chose to sit away from everyone else. 

You are both quiet, enjoying each other’s company in silence as you wait for the others.

“They are taking so long,” you whine.

“I know,” Eddie chuckles. 

You glance at him, he stretches his legs out and leans back, looking at you with a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna go swimming?”

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. You take your sunglasses off and put them on your bag. 

“If you come with me,” you say, giving him a sweet smile. 

“Do you think I’ll let you swim alone? There could be monsters and shit, I gotta protect you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Monsters in Lovers Lake? The only monsters I see are those teenage boys – hold on, is that Carver?” You ask, scrunching your face up in disgust as you point at the blond who just jumped into the water, “you might be right, there are monsters.”

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, that’s a real monster.” 

You start to unbutton your dress. 

Eddie gets up, reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, throwing it on the ground, it lands with a soft thud beside you. You look at the shirt as you push the dress down to your waist, looking up at Eddie. 

You have seen him shirtless before, countless times, actually. He is actually one of the only men you had seen shirtless – one was Steve, another one was Billy, but only because he walks around shirtless whenever he gets the chance to. Besides, he was never one that you had been attracted to. So, Billy doesn’t count. 

But you look at Eddie.

His body, his skin, his scent, different from the one you already know, the skin you traced. The freckles that are not on his skin, yet it is covered in tattoos. No sun kissed skin, yet still beautiful in its paleness. No brown luscious hair, but a messy mop of dark curls that still fall beautifully on his shoulders. Both beautiful, both different. But why are you even comparing?

“Ready to go?” 

You snap out of your thoughts, nodding. 

Sighing, you look down and finish taking your dress off. You press your lips together as you adjust your top. 

You hear the sharp breath he takes, the curse word that fell from his lips, the one he tried to cover with a cough. 

“I-Is t-that a new one?” He stutters, trying to rip his gaze away from your chest as he points to your swimsuit. 

You feel amused by the stutter, by the blush on his cheeks and the shakiness in his voice. 

“Yes,” you giggle. 

Eddie stares at you, at your body, at your soft skin that he is dying to touch. Your eyes that shine beneath the sunlight, the cherry red swimsuit that is hugging your body so perfectly. The way you look up at him with big eyes, parted and glossy lips. You look so gorgeous. 

“I love it.”

Your eyes widen and you are once again blushing. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He looks at you, not hungrily, not in a way others have wanted you before. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

You push yourself up, leaning closer to him, you give him a teasing smile. 

“I’ll race you to the water.” And with that, you run off, giggling when you hear him cursing. 

“Hey! That’s not fair!” 

You squeal in surprise when he catches up with you quickly, he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and running into the water with you. He laughs at the squeal that falls from your lips again when the cold water touches your skin. 

“Got you,” he whispers in your ear as he holds you tightly, sinking in the water with you. 

“It’s so cold!” You gasp, holding his forearm tightly. 

“Wanna dive, sweetheart?” He teases. 

“No!” You squeal as he takes you deeper into the water. 

He chuckles when you push his hands off, putting some distance between you before you turn around to face him. 

“You wanna fight me?” You splash water his way. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “you wanna play that game?” He asks, splashing water back at you. 

You nod as you walk back, suddenly feeling nervous when an evil smirk appears on his face. 

“How about you play the helpless victim?” 

“And you play the big bad monster?” 

He suddenly jumps forward, reaching for you but you quickly pull back, trying to run in the water.

“No!” 

You hear his dark chuckle behind you, “we didn’t even get started!” 

“You’re an evil water monater!” You giggle as you take a look at him, watching the way the few wet strands of his cling to his cheeks. 

His eyes light up with amusement, “the evil water monster is gonna get the pretty human.” 

Your giggle makes his heart flutter and his smile widens when you squeal again as his fingers brush against your wrist. 

“I almost got you!” 

“Leave me alone!” You laugh, making the mistake of running into the other direction, giving him the chance to grab you. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you against him, your back is now flush against his bare chest. His fingers digging into your sides as he starts to tickle you. 

“H-Hey!” You laugh, throwing your head back, “t-that’s not f-fair,” you giggle, gripping his wrists but he is stronger than you. “E-Eddie!” 

“Eddie!” He mocks, laughing. 

You push him back, hard enough for him to lose balance and as he falls, he takes you with him, wrapping his arms around you, you both fall into the water, laughing together as you fall against his chest.

The water sloshes around you. You are both giggling as you help each other up, holding each other's hands. He pulls you into him causing you to stumble forward a little. Your free hand falls against his wet chest as his falls to your waist. 

“Hi,” you chuckle. 

“Hey,” he smiles, moving his hand up to tuck the wet strands of your hair behind your ear.  

You look at his chest, eyeing his tattoos for a moment and then, you look up, eyes drifting to his lips. 

His brows knit together. He watches the way you look at him. His breathing stutters when your eyes continue to stare at his lips. But you are confused and completely lost. Why? What are you thinking about?

You pull away from him when you catch yourself thinking of something that shouldn’t even cross your mind. 

Why did you even think about it? 

Why did you have to get so close to him?

Wasn’t the kiss with Steve enough? 

Why are you trying to ruin another friendship?

You already lost Steve, you don’t want to lose Eddie too.

“Hey guys!” 

Both you and Eddie look up to find Robin running into the water, grinning at the both of you. 

“Hey!” 

The smile on your face is fake, Eddie can see it. 

“Took you long enough, Buckley,” Eddie chuckles. 

“Yeah, I uh– we stopped by the store, got some snacks,” she says with a shaky voice as she gets into the cold water. 

“Hey guys!” Chrissy yells from the spot you and Eddie picked, waving at the two of you. She sits down on the pink towel she just put on the grass next to yours. 

“Hi!” You smile, waving back at her. 

Judging by the tanning oil in her hand, you already know that she won’t be joining you in the water. 

Finally, you look at Steve, who seems unaware of what just almost happened. He takes his shirt off and runs his hand through his hair as he stands there in just his swim trunks, looking like some model that just walked out of a magazine. Your eyes widen as you stare at his chest. 

Since when does he have chest hair? 

He used to hate it and always shaved it when you were still together. 

You stare at it without meaning to, your eyes roam his body. He changed a little, his arms are more muscular than before, his shoulders are a little broader. His hair is longer too. 

When he looks up, you turn away, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Robin, can I talk to you for a moment?” Eddie asks with pleading eyes. 

“Yeah sure.”

You watch as they both step away, leaving you standing by yourself for a moment. Good, you need it. You look around, deciding to go swimming without them. You take a deep breath and walk deeper into the water, letting the coldness envelope your body. You close your eyes and you start swimming. 

As you swim further away from the shore, the voices and the laughter from the people get lost in the distance. You hear the water sloshing, your breathing and your beating heart. 

You stop swimming and tilt your head back, stretching your arms out as you lay on your back, letting your body float. 

You try to not think. You try to not feel. You try to just be here and enjoy this. You enjoy the cold feeling on your skin beneath the water, the warm feeling of the sun shining down on your face. 

For a moment, it’s so quiet out here, it’s almost eerie.

You think about the joke Eddie made. Monsters in Lovers Lake. Now that you’re out here by yourself, you can’t help but think about it. Maybe there is something in the deep end.

Something could just snatch you up and pull you down. You definitely watch too many horror movies. 

“You’re too far out.”

Your heart leaps to your throat and you open your eyes, gasping as you clutch your chest.

“You scared me!” 

Steve’s lips part, his brows furrow. You place your hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He can’t help but laugh as he takes in the terrified look on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swimming closer to you, “did you think about that weird lake monster that you were so afraid of when you were a kid?” 

“Huh – oh! O-Oh, you remember that?” You laugh. 

He nods, “yeah, you only talked about it like every day.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. 

“I wasn’t thinking about that monster.” 

“A different one then?” 

“Maybe.” 

He laughs, “still scared of monsters that don’t exist, I see.” 

“Hey, you never know, something could just emerge from the water.” You swim towards him, getting closer and closer. His cheeks are a little red, water drips down from his hair, single droplets rolling down his cheeks and his lips. 

“And what, snatch me up?” He chuckles, licking his lips. 

“Mhmm, maybe monsters love guys with uh that,” you giggle, pointing to his chest, “I thought you hated chest hair, Stevie.”

You always told him to stop shaving it, you always wanted to see what it would look like on him.

His cheeks heat up and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of your words, the nickname or the closeness of your body. 

“I’m trying new things,” he shrugs. 

New things. He is trying new things. He tried new things when he dated girls before you, new hairstyles, new clothes, new music. He only ever tried new things when he was interested in someone and thought that he had to change – be better, look better. 

“L-Like what?”

Your eyes flash with something that he struggles to read.  

“For girls you mean?” You ask before he can even respond to your first question. You remember what Robin told you the first time you visited them at Scoops Ahoy. “A-Are you– do you have someone?” You ask before you can even stop those words from spilling. 

“What?” He asks, shaking his head at you. 

“Nothing,” you mumble, “forget it.” Why do you even care? 

This is none of your business. He can do whatever he wants. He can flirt as much as he wants. He can go on dates. He can have flings. He can have girlfriends. 

You tear your eyes away from him, desperately wanting to get away when you feel your cheeks heating up but just as you’re about to swim back, you notice how loose your bikini top is suddenly feeling. You raise your hand, placing it on your chest, “shit,” you mumble when you realize that the knot came undone. 

“W-What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he snaps out of his thoughts. 

“M-My stupid bikini – the knot–”

He realizes what happened when he notices your hand on your chest as you keep your other arm stretched out so you stay afloat. 

“Can you help me?” You ask with big eyes. 

His heart melts at the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes. 

“Of course,” he whispers, swimming towards you.

This isn’t ideal but, he touched you before, he had seen you naked before, it won’t be weird or foreign for him to do it. 

He swims behind you and he stares at your bare back for a moment, swallowing nervously. He takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to gather your wet hair, he brushes it to the side. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his touch for the first time again. His calloused fingers touching your bare skin. You press your lips together, and close your eyes. 

He moves closer than he has to, he can’t help it. He reaches for the strings of your top and he starts tying the knot, slowly. He can feel the goosebumps on your skin and he can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the cold water or if it’s because of his touch – he hopes that it’s because of his touch. 

He looks at your soft skin, wondering what it would be like to feel it on his again. He wonders what it would feel like to touch you, to have your body pressed against his. He looks at your shoulder, wishing that he could lean down and press his lips against it, pressing kisses up to your neck. His heart flutters just at the thought of it. 

He is close, so close. 

His fingers brush against your spine and your breath hitches in your throat. He heard it. 

His touch feels so different from the way it used to feel. It’s soft, gentle. Something that it never used to be. He is careful with you, he never was, not when you were still his. 

You wonder if he ever thought that you looked beautiful. 

You wonder if he ever craved you the way you craved him after he left. 

Your heart starts racing the longer you feel his hands on your skin. Hands that used to be so rough on your body are now so light and caring, it makes you nervous. His hands feel familiar yet so strange and foreign. 

Is he touching someone else with those hands now?

“There’s no one else.” He says as though he could read your mind.

For a moment, you stop breathing.

“There’s only one girl for me,” he whispers as he puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you around carefully so he can see you, so he can look into your eyes. 

He felt the way you reacted to his touch. He heard the sadness and the jealousy in your voice when you had asked him those questions. He can see the look in your eyes. 

There is still a chance. 

There is still a chance, right?

next chapter

-

tagging friends and mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @xxhellfirebunnyxx @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

[isagid]

𝐃𝐎𝐆. | SUGURU GETO.

Suguru “Too big to talk shit” Geto. SFW.

You aren’t one to get shit-faced. Sure, you get tipsy, and sure, sometimes you trip over your feet and slur on your words at a party, but you don’t blackout. But here you are, drunk out of your mind, dizzy and legless as you lean against Suguru.

“And then— oh my god, Ru, you wouldn’t believe this shit.” You turn in your ‘seat’, hand slapping against his face lightly as it moves to circle around his neck. Your body is contorted, eyes murky as they catch the sneer he dawns at the previous encounter you’d made with his face, or maybe at the horrific nickname you never would’ve called him if you were sober.

“What shit wouldn’t I believe?” He’s unenthusiastic, ample fingers tracing butterflies onto the small of your back— a habit he’d told you about months before when he loudly informed you that butterflies are easier to draw than any other insect. His voice is bland, heated with the liquor on his breath, but you know with the way his toe taps against the ground he’s interested.

“She fucked him two doors fuckin’ down!” And there it is. There it is. His eye crinkles up, his brows furrow, his lip quirks, he exhales. It’s all subtle, none of it is emphasized or dramatic, but you like to think you’ve mastered the art of observing Suguru, even drunk and hazy and slung all over him.

“Hm,” That’s all he gives you. It’s not much, because Suguru swears and survives that he’s above gossip. It’s not much, but it’s everything you need to push forward, into his lap and with the story.

“Then, come next day, that one bitch from work, yknow the red head— or, god, fuck does she call it? Strawberry blonde? Whatever, anyway, so she sees her buying plan b and a goddamn zena. What a whore!” He stirs under you and you’re sure you’ve got him. You know he eats this shit up, you know with a best friend like Satoru Gojo there’s no way he isn’t judgmental and critical and prey to shit talking.

“Didn’t she post all that shit about her and her boyfriend going to Sakura-Zaka that day?” You know you’ve got him.

“That’s what i’m saying!” Your hand hits at his shoulder, big and broad, and your body stumbles into him a little bit.

“Plus, isn’t he dating her uncles daughter?”

“Ohhh my god, Sugu!” Another awful nickname to add to the list. “You do listen!”

“What a dog.” You giggle— a crass little noise— and you’re sure only Suguru Geto makes you like this. You’re sure you’d only feel so comfortable drunk to the point of discomfort, all squirmy in his lap, laughing and mean and adoring of him.

“Never say that again, are you fifty?” He grumbles, so low you can feel it in your spine, and you shiver against his skin.

There’s a lot to Geto that you can feel in your bones. You think, maybe, he was meant to be there— locked in somewhere between your femur and your pelvis, or stuck in your ribs. And right now, drunk and bubbly, you’re sure you can feel him inside all of your organs and blood vessels and veins. Right now, you are sure Suguru is part of you.

“I’m glad you’re not a dog, Suguru.” He squints at you, wide face all beautiful and a little sweaty. And then he smiles— just a hint of one, smug above his jaw— and lifts one of his big, big hands up to the back of your head.

“Yeah, who would you be able to bitch to about that?” But he knows what you meant, and you may be fucked up but you think he means it back. You think if he were someone else (maybe Gojo), he’d tell you he was glad you weren’t a slut. You think if he were someone else, he’d tell you he wants to kiss you.

But he’s Suguru, so he doesn’t do the first thing and he doesn’t do the second. Still, he holds you in a way that makes you feel so small and so warm you can’t breathe.

It’s quiet, peaceful and whole. It feels like home. After a beat, Suguru lifts his other hand to your cheek, gives it a swipe he hopes you’ll forget in the morning, and finally gives you a world shattering grin. You think now that that was his declaration of love.

“So what’s gonna happen if that hyena finds out?” So, filled with so much love you don’t know how to handle it, you start up again.

[heavenhealy]

genre: smut, porn with a bit of plot, flatmate!matty x fem!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader

summary: after a bit too much wine at a game night, you worry matty learned things he never would have never wanted to know about his flatmate, but he assures you you aren’t as weird as you think.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: this is smut, please do not read this if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with sexual content!! specific warnings include: swearing, alcohol consumption, they're both a bit self conscious but only briefly, crying, (VERY MINOR) who hurt you troupe bc I'm a whore for it, reader is worried about being kinkshamed/implications she has been in the past, dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation (consensual), unprotected sex (don't do this), choking, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), aftercare, fluff, matty being a little softie after sex

a/n: I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize if this is rusty! I also do not proof read so there may be some mistakes, and as always please let me know if I missed a warning and I will add it on. Happy reading! :)

"Never have I ever...." Your friend trails off, swirling the contents of her wine glass absently in her hand. Her living room is packed but all the attention is on her as she speaks. A sudden blast of nostalgia from college collides into you: you sitting in your much smaller common room with her and your group of classmates, drunk off cheap beer as you swap horror stories about professors and dating. She had always been the most gripping and magnetic person you knew. Someone who could pull all of your darkest, deepest secrets out of the folds of your mind before you even realized.

Or maybe it was the expensive wine that she always had stocked now that you were adults.

"Oh! Never have I ever made someone choke me during sex." A few flickers of laughter go up around the room, and you watch as some couples proudly throw back gulps of their drinks. Your mind whirrs, suddenly self conscious at the idea of someone seeing you take a drink, but you do it anyway. There's so many people here, and so many of them are drunk that it's unlikely anyone would remember anyway. You take a hearty gulp and feel the pleasant buzz settle in your veins, whether from the alcohol or the quiet liberation of admitting one of your darkest desires like this.

Her question seems to have inspired a new theme of the game, as the next person in line slurs, "never have I ever been spit on and liked it." Less people offer up their admittance than on the last round, and your face flushes as you try to subtly bring your glass to your mouth. Your eyes dart around, drunkenness making you feel sleepy. The room was mostly occupied by your coworkers and friends of friends, all people that you could elect to never see again if you had to, and a wash of relief has you taking another sip of wine- this one just for enjoyment.

"Never have I ever let someone I'm hooking up with come inside me." Even you have to laugh at the absurdly sexual way the game began to go, but you jovially drain the last of your wine, throwing your head back lavishly as a round of jeers go up in the circle around the coffee table.

Your head is back upright, warm and swimming with intoxication as you giggle in spite of yourself. Remnants of wine stick on your lips and you lick them, trying to pry off the last of the sweet taste. Your body feels so heavy and so light at the same time: flying and sinking with intoxication and the inherent comfort that comes with it. Your eyes flutter open, mostly because you're afraid you really could fall asleep right on the couch if you keep them shut. As soon as the visual world comes back to you, you see him.

Matty, your generous flatmate who always accompanies you to these parties when he has the time, standing just behind the seated circle of people in the game who you now notice are beginning to disperse. The sight of him is sobering. How long had he been standing there? The rest of these people were inconsequential to the rest of your life, but Matty? You share a home with him, cook each other dinner, and swap each others' laundry, and pick up medicine when the other is sick.

Nerves curl in your stomach. If he had seen all of that, he definitely would think you're a freak, a sexual deviant. Maybe he would want to terminate his lease and you would be forced to find a new place. You suddenly feel dizzy as he approaches.

Handsome as ever, he pushes a hand through his already wild curls and plops onto the couch beside you. He hums thoughtfully, examining your face closely; the flush of your cheeks, the unhinged look you're sure is present in your eyes. As hard as you try, your intoxicated mind can't comprehend the emotions showing on his own face.

About all you can muster to think is "handsomehandsomehandsome" as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before prying the empty wine glass from your hand.

"We've got to get going," he says to someone as you stand with him, slightly wobbly in your platformed sneakers. You wave at your friend and manage to support yourself long enough to make it out of her front door. The night air is thick and sticky with humidity but Matty keeps an arm around your shoulders as you go down the stairs, silently ensuring you don't wipe out and skin your knee again.

"Thanks," you finally speak once you're onto the familiar even sidewalk back to your flat. He just hums, dark eyes sparkling under the street lamps dotted along the path.

"You didn't drink?" You ask, suddenly realizing that he seemed remarkably steady tonight.

"'course I did," he wiggles his flask from his jean pocket and waves it in front of you, "I'm just not a lightweight." You sigh, throwing your arms up dramatically. He's already giggling before you even begin to defend yourself.

"I didn't get drunk off of the one glass, Matthew! I actually had three tonight. And I didn't even get sleepy till the last one."

"Sleepy? Is that the word for it?" His voice is clipped as you make the final turn to your street, the looming complex you call home only yards away. Your brow furrows at his tone.

"What are you implying?" You stop, arms crossed defensively over your chest. He deflates, visibly dropping at your change in demeanor as if it wasn't him who caused it.

"Seriously, Y/N? We're almost home." You don't budge and he relents. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I know you're sleepy, let's go. Please? Forget I said anything." You sigh, appreciating the candid look of relief on his face when you start to walk again, all the way until you're into the safety of your bed.

---

"Oh, fuck," you grimace upon waking up. You have no idea what time it is, but sunlight is streaming in through the crack in your curtains, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the tv down the hallway. You know that your hair is tangled, and it's a miracle that you even bothered to change out of your clothes before bed.

You grasp for your phone and sit up, cursing the throbbing headache that always comes with getting wine drunk. You start picking up pieces of the night in your memory like loose change: a selfie here, a bump into a guy from accounting there, a handful of pretzels tossed into your mouth by your friend, the game of never have I ever-oh.

Shit. You swallow hard, listening for the noises downstairs, and the confirming shuffle of Matty's footsteps makes you freeze. Shit, how much had he heard? You meant to ask about it last night but lacked the cognitive ability for such a thing.

Your stomach bottoms out as you think, practicing different ways to approach it in your head.

Hey, did you hear about all of my weird sex stuff last night?

Hey buddy, learned anything about me recently that changed your view of me as a person and now you want to move out?

Hi Matty, thanks for coming with me to the party and getting us home, did you see me admit to liking being spit on?

Each idea was worse than the last, and a shiver of fear runs up your neck. You had always expected to have to deal with some differences in this living agreement, and had before, but never about something like this. Okay, maybe you could just avoid him until you came up with a good way to ask? Or maybe it would never come up at all? Perhaps he really hadn't been in the room the whole time. And worse case scenario, you have time to think about it. You could crawl right back into bed and pretend to sleep all day and-

"Y/N? You're up, right?" Matty's voice sounds from right outside the door, strong and clear. You consider ignoring him but he nudges on the door and it swings open just a bit, revealing him clutching onto a bakery to go box. He smiles bright when he sees you upright and takes a step into your room.

"Brought you a cinnamon roll,” he smiles the small, earnest smile that you don’t even think he realizes he does, and your heart melts. Surely this is a sign off goodwill.

You thank him and take the box, immediately flipping the lip open and staring down at the pastry. Your stomach rumbles at the scent so you dig in, flakes of dough falling off and back into the box as you eat. Matty stays silently in your doorway until you vaguely gesture at your bed, inviting him to sit as you chew.

He perched himself at the foot of your bed: hair messy under the hood of his favorite old sweatshirt and his hands tucked endearingly under his thighs, as if he’s waiting for something.

You finish your bite and raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that he voices whatever he wants or needs from you. Not that you didn’t love just spending time together or the random act of kindness, but faint alarm bells were still ringing at the possibility of what he learned last night. Neither of you were prudes: you’d had your fair amount of conversations about hook ups throughout your years as friends, but it still felt like a delicate line to cross.

“‘S good?” He asks, voice stunted as if he had to swallow down his nerves before he spoke. “Are you feeling okay? Not too hungover?” His eyebrows crinkle cutely as he asks, eyes roaming your face as if to make sure you’re telling the truth.

You nod your assurance. “Fine, I was mostly just hungry but you fixed that.” He echoes the grin you produce and your heart flutters. He looks so painfully domestic like this, in his comfy clothes and making sure you feel okay. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you recall the care he took -always takes- to get you home safely.

“Good. You were...pretty blasted." You cringe, placing your head in your hands. The heat of your cheeks is strong and burning into the palms of your hands. Fear strikes down your spine, a fuzzy feeling of panic filling your mind. The question dances on the tip of your tongue.

"Hey." His fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging gently at it until you relent. The warmth of his touch lulls you a bit, but you can still feel the tears rimming your eyes. He coos, the sound a soothing balm on your heart.

"What's got you so upset? You're more than allowed to get drunk from time to time, love. I'm no saint myself." The pad of his thumb swipes gently over the vein in your arm.

"I-" one hot tear escapes you, rolling down the side of your nose. "How much did you see?" Your voice barely holds: wobbly and unsure yet you somehow find the courage to look at him: staring deep into his eyes. He looks back just as unflinchingly, studying your eyes as if he was trying to memorize their exact curvature.

His mouth opens, then closes into a frown, and a dark wave of anxiety creeps through your chest. He knows. He saw it all, and you know Matty well enough to know that he only hesitates with you when he's trying to find the right words to soften the blow. Like the time you had made horrendous tasting pasta and he pushed it around the plate until you finally asked for his honesty. He releases his hold on your wrist as you tug it away harshly, scooting further up your bed until you hit the headboard with your back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about- if you think I'm weird and you want to leave or not live here anymore, or you don't want me to ever talk to you again-" your voice wavers and a rush of tears spill forth despite how hard you will them to stop. The idea of him never speaking to you again you makes you choke on a sob, but you can't dull the voices in your mind.

"Now why the fuck would you think that?" His voice snaps you out of your blubbering. His pretty features are marred into a scowl so deep that you gasp.

"Tell me, Y/N, why would you think that? I would never, ever-" his features shift, eyes softening. "Who made you think that way about yourself?" You try to ignore the undercurrent of anger in the question but it oddly sets you alight to hear how much he cares about this. That maybe even if he doesn't agree with your desires, he's not going to alienate you because of them.

Your tears have dried onto your cheeks, and you can feel the uneven breaths of anxiety begin to wash away as he shuffles closer until your knees touch. It still feels as if your brain is full of cotton, unable to process or produce anything meaningful to the conversation.

"I don't mind if you don't tell me who made you feel that way, but I'll be damned if I let you go on feeling' weird about it. Or alone about it. Cause you're not." You nod along listlessly as you often do when he rambles on, and with the mix of emotions rushing through you it takes you a moment to understand him. Matty traces a lazy pattern over your knee cap, eyes glued to your face as you catch up.

"Oh," it stumbles out of you before you can check yourself. "So you, like," your brain short circuits as he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"I do."

"You don't think I'm gross?" A spark of hope settles in your stomach, whether from the knowledge, or Matty's proximity, or both you aren't sure.

He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth in a way that makes your heart lurch. His curls shimmy around his face as he shakes his head no, hand stilling on your knee.

"Actually quite the opposite." His lopsided grin makes you gasp, and his hand slides up the length of your leg until it's resting on the top of your thigh. He sits up onto his knees, imposing over you even on with his pajamas still on. "More surprised..." his eyes search your face, finding only awe, "happy, thrilled, elated...who would have thought my sweet little angel would be so..." he clicks his tongue, mocking as he pretends to think. Your heart rate quickens as arousal shoots through you. "Fucking dirty." He tilts his head as if speaking to a child, eyes sparkling with what you can only assume is lust.

Your mouth feels dry as your entire face and neck flush red.

"I-I, well, uhm." You gulp and he places a hand delicately on your face. You lean into the touch, no longer finding it in you to be ashamed in front of him.

"You what? Are a dirty little thing who gets off on being choked and spit on?" You nod fervently and he chuckles, winding his fingers into the hair at the base of your neck. "Gonna need some words from this pretty mouth or we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, yes! I am, Matty. C-can you please?" He tugs at your hair, sending your line of sight upwards until all you can see are his eyes and mop of curls.

"Please ruin you? Make you forget about whatever fucker shamed you for what gets you off?" All thoughts outside of Matty leave you as you whine your affirmation. The anticipation is enough to make you squirm against his hold, hot pin pricks of pleasure sparking as he pulls against your hair.

"No running now that I've got you." He smiles sinfully before pushing forward for a kiss, molding his lips against your own with ferocity that you had only imagined he would use. No matter how many times you had fantasized about kissing him you never would have expected it to feel this perfect.

He tastes like coffee and the faint staleness of his last cigarette; something so iconically Matty that it makes you want to cry. He devours you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and holding steady on your hair to keep you exactly in place for him. Arousal roars inside of you, underwear already slicking at the show of dominance just the kiss has given you.

"Need you." You mumble it into the kiss, unable to push down your thoughts any longer. Matty relents, chest heaving just as much as your own.

"Need you," you try again, clearer this time, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. It's gone in an instant, his lean tattooed torso exposed for your viewing pleasure. Matty's hands are instantly fisting into the fabric of your old sleep shirt, stripping it as soon as you gasp out a yes. He eyeballs your tits and immediately groans, deep and guttural in a way you've never heard before. "Prettiest fuckin' girl. Look at you." The tenderness makes your heart swell as he tenderly cups your breasts in both hands, pinching at your nipples just enough to make you breathless. He places a line of kisses down your sternum and then follows the same path with a swipe of his tongue.

Shuddering, you latch onto his back and dig in with your nails, hoping to leave him with a little gift of his own. The movement presses him against you, his face buried in your stomach as he continues the sinful path of his tongue down to the elastic band of your shorts. He licks under it, being careful not to actually touch you anywhere you truly wanted him.

"Mmph, Matty, please-please please!" You moan and shiver, wriggling under his weight as he keeps you pinned down with one arm over your mid section.

He nips playfully at the skin of your stomach, "Impatient little slut, huh? Just got started on you and you're already lookin' for more." He abandons your skin completely, taking his warmth with you. A whine grumbles in your chest at the loss, but it dies in the air as you watch him shuck off his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock: something you'd imagined but never figured you would be lucky enough to see in person. Desire strikes through you as he settles against the bed, his lean thighs on display as he kneels on the bed.

"Can I suck your cock?" The question jumps out of you and Matty stills, seemingly shocked at your boldness. He cocks his head, biceps flexing when he wraps a hand around himself. Your mouth practically waters as he pumps himself slowly.

"Of course you can," he licks his lips as he settles into your crumpled bedsheets, spreading his legs to give you ample room to work. You spring into action, eager to repay all of the attention he's given you.

There's no time to waste once his cock is in your mouth. Your eyes water at the intrusion but you can't deny the way it makes your pussy flutter to feel so full of him. Matty gasps, lacing his fingers back through your sweaty hair and leading you further down, pressing your face into the skin of his pelvis.

A gag ripples through you and Matty groans, loosening his grip just enough that it's clear you could escape if you wished. But you don't, and you won't, as you work through the reflex with hot tears streaking down your face. Matty's breathy gasps only encourage you as you wiggle your tongue along the bottom of his cock as you suck: saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth and dripping into a sticky mess at the base of him.

"So fuckin' messy and hot, spitting all over me cause you're so desperate, is that it? Can't do anything but be stupid and drool all over my cock?" You moan at his words, bobbing your head vigorously both to show you agree with him and encourage him to say more, the nasty words flipping all the right switches in your brain.

His hips stutter up into your mouth and he huffs, pulling you off of him in painfully slow increments. You whine at the loss: throat raw and scratchy as you watch his cock shine under the light.

"Lay down," his voice is clipped and you're silently thrilled to note the shake as evidence that he was feeling just as fucked out as you.

You follow his instruction, flipping easily onto your back. He stills at the foot of your bed as you sprawl in front of him, legs parted in invitation. His chest heaves as he crowds overtop of you, heated skin against skin as he presses the length of his body onto your own. The fullness of his weight against you makes you feel fuzzy and you go lax under him, bucking your hips upwards in seek of friction over your clit.

Matty hums, his reddened lips forming into a mocking pout. "Prettiest baby ever but just so desperate," he places a kiss on your forehead and your heart flutters: eyes watering at the sweet gesture.

He catches your gaze, carefully inspecting the shine in your eyes.

"I'm okay," you voice before he can even ask, running your fingers over his jaw as you grin up at him. "Just happy." A little sly grin spreads on his lips and you can't help but return one, a giddy feeling of happiness spreading through your bones. It only makes you more ravenous for him and you whine, pushing your hips up against his own again as you attach yourself to his neck, biting a hickey into the skin just under his ear. A long moan falls from him as you work your mouth against him and your mind short circuits, in disbelief that you finally had him like this.

"Fucking quit with the hips before I explode," Matty growls, pulling away from the stimulation of your movement. You still immediately, the steel in his voice making you pliant. Apparently pleased with your behavior, Matty simply sits back, trailing his sinfully long fingers between your legs. You gasp at finally being touched, head pushing back into your pillows as Matty circles a finger around your hole, pushing in slowly as you widen your legs to allow him more access.

"Pretty little pussy, think you can handle another one?" You know he's teasing you, as he was already working another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open. The burn is deeply satisfying, liquid pleasure seeping through you as he works you open, thrumming his thumb against your clit.

"Matty, please?" You tug at the hand unoccupied with fingering you. His eyes squint in confusion at your request and you sigh, pulling his hand toward the base of your neck. His hand on your pussy stills as his mind finally catches up.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're fuckin' perfect, want me to choke you? Wanna have my hand around your neck while I fuck you stupid?." You nod dumbly, already feeling like you're on cloud nine. He moves the fastest you'd ever seen him, abandoning his work on your pussy for a threatening grip on one hip. You watch hungrily as he lines himself up with your pussy, eyes locked onto the image of his intrusion. The fullness of his cock inside of you made you keen, chest heaving as he pushes fully inside of you.

It had been a very long time since you'd been this full, and the fact that Matty was the one filling you made it even more addicting. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you dizzy, and even more so once he finally began to move. A stream of obscenities spill out of you and Matty tsks, falling back into this dominant persona as he narrows his eyes at you, fingers dancing at the base of your neck. You swallow with harsh anticipation.

"Do I need to shut you up?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel the strength of his hand closing around your neck. "What a dirty little girl, wantin' me to choke you when I'm already buried inside of you." His voice deepens with a groan while you plead him with your eyes, pussy throbbing around his cock at his words. His thrusts falter for just a moment as he finally relents, tightening his hold on your neck until you feel the perfect level of pressure that makes you feel perfectly floaty, nodding at him to continue his thrusts against you.

Emblazoned by the sight of his hand around your neck, Matty's hips snap into you with renewed vigor that has you rocking against the pillow, legs locked around his back. The slick sound of your pussy around him fills the room, mingling with the strangled moans that slip from both of you.

Matty pants above you, the punishing pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It's almost embarrassing how easily he works you up, and almost even more embarrassing how quick you are to hang your mouth open, mind blanked by the pleasure as you take everything he has to give you. He loosens his grip on your neck slightly and you whine petulantly.

"Relax, pretty. Not done with ya, hold on." Thankfully the movement of his hips doesn't even stutter as he moves his hand upwards, over the cleft of your chin before tracing the pads of his first two fingers over your bottom lip, pulling on the flesh until you open your mouth again. He smiles and lust clouds your senses as you watch his eyes crinkle.

"There's something else you want, isn't there? Something else that makes this pretty pussy all wet?" Your eyes widen, heart jumping into your throat as one of your most common wet dreams comes to life right in front of you. You try to swallow but his fingers in your mouth impede you, the tip of your tongue running over the digits.

"Wan' you to spit in my mouth," you make the sentence out with impressive clarity, especially as Matty's thrusts speed up at the confession, a deep, sustained moan rumbling out of his chest.

He slips his fingers from your mouth and immediately puts them between your bodies to thrum over your clit, slick with your own spit as they make contact. A shock runs through you, exciting every vein in your body with the whisper of your oncoming release. Despite his renewed vigor, Matty's eyes remain glued to your own as you hang your mouth open. From this angle you can see all of his pretty curls framing his face and every eyelash around his deep brown eyes. Before you even have a moment to anticipate it, a thick translucent glob of spit descends from his perfect lips and onto your waiting tongue. You swallow it eagerly as his cock twitches inside of your walls, and before you can even thank him, his hand unoccupied hand latches back onto your neck.

"I'm going to fuckin' come, shit. You're so hot." Matty's praises send you to another plane of existence as he holds you by the neck, deft fingers curling around your clit in time with his thrusts. You're sure that the sounds you're making are pathetic and embarrassing but pleasure courses through you so quickly that you can barely make out your warning that you were going to come.

Matty growls as you finally let yourself go, giving up to the monsoon of pleasure that wipes through your entire body. Your toes curl, muscles strained with the force of your orgasm as you hold him as close as possible with your legs. Matty curses, plowing into as he nears his own end. Even though you feel out of this world, you are acutely aware of everything about him; the way he pants and the rivulets of sweat that are beading down his chest, the beautiful moans that come from his bitten-red lips.

"Gonna come, can I come inside?" His desperation is making him whiny, and if you were less fucked out you would poke fun at the tone you know he would hate, but all you can think about is having his hot come fill you up.

"Yes, please! Need it Matty." A sliver of overstimulation starts to overwhelm your easy pleasure but you endure through it as you feel his cock twitch heavily inside of you before he leans into you, face buried into your shoulder as he comes. Although you mourn the loss of the face he makes, you get a beautiful sample of the moans that overtake him when he comes. The sound takes your breath away alongside the feeling of him filling you to the brim, so forcefully that you feel yourself shudder with another small orgasm as he finishes with a few more tiny thrusts of his hips. You gasp for air, immediately grappling for him to wrap your arms fully around his back.

He falls into you easily, his own chest heaving as his cock softens inside of you. You hear rather than feel him kissing over the plane of your shoulder as you float in and out of focus, exhausted and most likely dehydrated from this and the night before. Unintelligible speech rumbles against your skin, and Matty must realize that your lack of response means you aren't quite there, as he leans up onto his elbows.

You smile when you see him, face flushed and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Handsome," you finally speak the word you held back last night and he laughs heartily as he cups your jaw as if examining you to look for damages before placing a kiss onto your lips; short and sweet and grounding.

"Glad you finally caught up, love. It was getting exhausting being the only one in the house who thought so."

You roll your eyes, finally coming back to yourself and reality.

"Last time I'll ever compliment you." Giggles continue to wrack his body as he slowly pulls out of you. The gush of your mixed arousal coming out of you makes you whine, sure that you had just ruined your sheets.

Matty looks guilty as you finally make eye contact again and you just wave him off, sitting up slowly as he flops onto the bed beside you. He looks up at you, reverently, and you blush.

"Stop that, please. Stop." Your voice is still scratchy but you can't fight the smile on your face, the undeniable hope that this wasn't just a one time freak accident.

"Stop looking at how pretty you are? Especially with that just got choked and fucked within an inch of my life glow? Nah." He casually pushes his hair off of his forehead and your body betrays your rolling eyes with a new stir of arousal.

"Seriously, though. You're hot. And pretty, and gorgeous and so fucking dirty in all the best ways."

"Stop before I barf, Matthew." You try to be petulant but can't resist his cute grabby hands as he settles you down next to him, petting gently at your temple.

"But thanks," you finally squeak out, feeling tremendously tired and satisfied as you yawn. "For being cool and doing all that and, like, not running away from me after." You feel him stiffen slightly before he goes lax again.

"Love, if I'm running anywhere, it's over to my room for us to have a clean bed to do this again."

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Friends - SwaggerSouls x Reader

This might be a little OOC but eh

"Stand by your man And show the world you love him Keep giving all the love you can Stand by your man"

You groaned as you turned off the music softly playing from your laptop speakers. It seems like all life had done lately was remind you of the sad reality that is unrequitedly loving your best friend.

Swagger and you had first met after matching on Tinder, a desperate need for a release for both of you after another Valentines Day spent alone. But you'd hit it off better than you thought but just as friends, much to your chagrin.

Friends to lovers may have been one of your favorite tropes but boy did it not happen in real life. Years later and here you were still pining away while he fell in love with another girl. But you wouldn't ruin it for him. It's not like you were secretive about your feelings at the beginning, but you chose to ignore them the same way he did, because you were 'his best friend' and he 'didn't know what he'd do without you'. So you'd always been that supportive friend, and it helped to see that he was happy with her.

Until he wasn't.

"We broke up." Swagger said, once you opened the door, after banging enough to distract you from the project you'd been working on.

His words threw you into a stupor, not knowing how to respond.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You shook yourself awake, your friendly duties taking over.

"I'm so sorry, Swagger. Are you okay?"

"I - yeah I guess, I just - I don't know what happened, I thought everything was okay and then she just out of nowhere-" his story began to fall onto half deaf ears as you wrapped your arms around him, hoping to stop the tears beginning to form in his eyes. On one hand he was your best friend and you felt terrible for him, the fact that he was hurting. He really loved her, he'd even told you he was thinking about proposing, unknowingly shattering your heart into even smaller pieces. On the other hand, and this made you sick to your stomach, part of you was - happy and hopeful. While sober you had never brought up your feelings once he'd started dating her, drunk you wasn't so scared. Maybe he was just being nice because you were actually fucked, but he'd said maybe if things were different and they weren't together-

You rubbed his back as he hugged you, pushing all those thoughts to the back of your mind and focusing on him.

"Swagger, you are so amazing, and smart, and funny...and you care so much about your friends. Any girl would be so lucky to have you."

"You're just saying that."

"Swagger. I don't think you understand how easy you can turn my bad day around. You don't understand how if anything happened to our relationship I wouldn't know what do with myself. You're such a big part of my life and forever will be." You spoke honestly, even if you didn't have feelings for him, every word ringing with truth.

"Everything you said- that's how I feel about her."

And there it was. In that sentence every shred of hope left you, the conclusions that you'd never be the one for him.

You gave him a small smile and hugged him again before giving him the remote and asking what he wanted for dinner, playing it up that you were going to spend the night relaxing and not thinking about it anymore that night.

After he went home the next morning you made a promise to yourself to try and move on from Swagger. It wasn't fair to keep hurting yourself by loving someone who didn't love you back the same way, and to do that you had to distance yourself.

You stopped being the first to send a text to start the conversation. And then moved to shorter answers. It wasn't enough for you to come off as rude, and you thought you did a pretty good job of being subtle about it.

"Are you okay?"

The message stared up at you, making you wonder if you hadn't been as slick as you thought.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been quiet lately. Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm fine"

"No, I know you better than that. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Swagger."

Your phone rang.

"Answer" you received after pressing the ignore button. You didn't think you'd be able to hide it well if you talked to Swagger, not that he thought something was up.

"Swagger, I'm fine."

"Dammit, I'm worried about you. Tell me what's wrong."

Swagger knew how to push your buttons and one of them was being told what to do when you didn't want to.

"Leave it, Swagger."

"Tell me."

"I'm tired of this, okay? I'm tired of pretending like I'm not in love with you! Like I haven't been since we first met. And I'm tired of my feelings not being returned. Do you know how bad it'd always hurt when you talked about how you felt about her? Oh God, when you said you were going to propose I thought I'd start crying right there. And I don't know if i can do this anymore, Swagger."

You pressed send and immediately turned your phone volume down, tossing it to the side as you pulled your pillow close, burying your head as you let loud sobs rip through you.

It hurt so much once you'd put everything out there. Now there was no feigning ignorance, he knew how you felt and would have to let you down gently.

Hours passed since you'd sent your possibly final message to Swagger, made clear by the moonlight shining through your window. You must have cried yourself to sleep.

Sitting up you rubbed the sleep and dried tears from your face, seeing your phone laying on the bed next to you. Terrifying curiosity getting the better of you, you flipped it over and turned on the screen.

17 Missed Calls 49 New Messages

A knock startled you, and when you opened the door the last person you wanted to see stared back at you.

"You don't want to love me."

Your response came also in a whisper.

"Yes I do."

Swagger stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"You deserve someone so much better than me."

"There's no one better."

He stepped closer again, this time a hand came up to stroke your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Swaggers lips pressed against yours almost before you could finish the words, and it was everything you'd wanted it to be. The first time you'd kissed had been rushed, and uncaring. This one was full of passion and feeling and - love. Swagger loved you. And you loved him. You knew that this wasn't going to be as easy as immediately dating, but for now this would be enough for you.

[richardsgraysons]

the alchemy

prompt — some of my favorite songs as batboys

tags — nothing lol

DICK GRAYSON

the alchemy by taylor swift ( Cause the sign on your heart / Said it's still reserved for me / Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy? )

yellow by coldplay ( Your skin, oh yeah / your skin and bones / Turn into something beautiful / And you know, you know I love you so )

home by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeroes ( That's true, laugh until we think we'll die / Barefoot on a summer night / Never could be sweeter than with you (hey) )

daylight by taylor swift ( I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you / (I can never look away) / I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you / (Things will never be the same) )

a world alone by lorde ( All the double-edged people into schemes / They make a mess, then go home and get clean / You're my best friend, and we're dancing in a world alone

JASON TODD

homemade dynamite by lorde ( I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies / Seeing me rolling, showing someone else love / Hands under your t-shirt /Know I think you're awesome, right? )

guzarish by javed ali ( I'm walking in the nights / hope I don't crash anywhere / The flame of hope is still burning / But still I fear the incoming storm / I hope that the flame doesn't go off )

maroon by taylor swift ( The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones / The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon )

the blonde by tv girl ( 'Cause anyone who ever had a brain / Wouldn't stand out in the rain / Or keep it up for very long / Just to prove somebody wrong )

dear arkansas daughter by lady lamb ( You with the dark curls / You with the watercolor eyes / You who bear your teeth with every smile )

TIM DRAKE

lovers rock by tv girl ( But if you're too drunk to drive / And the music is right / She might let you stay/ But just for the night ) [ my biggest flex is that i was in paris by the eiffel tower with my family and we were going to go eat dinner on the eiffel tower, and as i walked by the street to get to the park where the tower is at, i saw a girl and a guy listening to lovers rock together on a scooter together and it was so CUTE ]

born to die by lana del rey ( Feet don't fail me now / Take me to the finish line / Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take / But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine )

supercut by lorde ( I'm someone, you may be my love / I'll be your quiet afternoon crush / Be your violent overnight rush / Make you crazy over my touch )

are you bored yet by wallows & clairo ( 'Cause we could stay at home or watch the sunset / But I can't help from askin', "Are you bored yet?" / And if you're feelin' lonely, you should tell me / Before this ends up as another memory)

apocalypse by cigarettes after sex ( You've been hiding them in hollowed out pianos / Left in the dark / Got the music in you, baby / Tell me why / Got the music in you, baby )

DAMIAN WAYNE

sanctuary by joji ( If you've been waiting for fallin' in love / Babe, you don't have to wait on me / 'Cause I've been aiming for heaven above / But an angel ain't what I need )

sober by lorde ( Oh, God, I'm clean out of air in my lungs / It's all gone, played it so nonchalant / It's time we danced with the truth / Move along with the truth )

fire meet gasoline by sia ( I got all I need, when you came after me / Fire meet gasoline, I'm burning alive / And I can barely breathe, when you're here loving me / Fire meet gasoline, burn with me tonight, yeah )

work song by hozier ( When my time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I'll crawl home to her )

put me through it by suki waterhouse ( And I'm tired of keeping all my feelings to myself / Was undercover, playing cards that I've been dealt / You spun me 'round in circles 'til I tripped and fell / I admit I got addicted, now I'm sick as hell )

[e1i-neverrests]

A Rowdy Raven And A Daring Dog

A silly lighthearted drabble for Vesuvia Weekly prompt “Date With Disaster” featuring Lys, Julian, and a little bit of Asra! Takes place post-main game. Alternatively titled “Two idiots walk into a bar”

A/N: The date itself was platonic, because who doesn't like taking your friends out for a few drinks? (I wouldn't know, I'm not allowed to drink yet)

May get a drawing, we’ll have to see

“What in the world happened to you two?” Asra asks in utter bafflement at the state of his friend and lover, the latter being unceremoniously dropped from the former’s arms and onto the doorstep. One is covered in dirt, the other sustaining a few bruises, and both entirely too drunk.

“Nothing the palace can prove!” Julian pipes up just a bit too loud, his usual roguish grin more askew than it ought to be. The sober magician just stares incredulously. “Is that meant to be reassuring..?”

“No no no, here, if you really want to know, it all starts,,, okay, just- just listen- it all…” The other magician interjecting from his spot on the floor, trailing off as he tries to support himself against the doorframe and hauling himself upright.

Julian interjects Lys’ interjection with his own less slurred speech, jumping into his explanation. “What he means to say is it all started earlier this very eve!”

[OooOoo flashback SFX]

Lys and Julian enter the Rowdy Raven, a sea of unfamiliar and unfriendly faces swivel towards them. Immediately, a pair of dastardly ne'er do wells come up and-

“That’s not what happened, don't listen to him!” Lys sways on his feet, now holding onto the Doctor instead of the door. He pats his hand on the taller man's cheek. “This… This malpracticing fiend embellishes far too much. Here, let- lemme tell you instead!” “Hey, I do not commit malpractice!”

[oOoooO more flashback SFX]

The two walk into the Rowdy Raven, a few of the regulars immediately recognising Julian. They beckon the pair over, immediately posing a challenge. “20 coins says the short one drinks you under the table!” “I'll bet 5 on the magician!” “No way, Devorak will win for sure! 50 coins!”

Never one to back down from a friendly competition, Lys is happy to take the bet. Julian, confident in his own abilities, is also on-board. Soon the whole tavern is circled around the bar, bets placed and breaths held. The count-down begins, and they're off!

“None other than yours truly came out victorious.” Julian beams, as though this were an achievement to be proud of. “Uh huh, but at what cost?” Lys cuts in, snickering. “People were upset I lost —apparently a lot of them bet on me?— so a fight broke out.”

“Those fiends attacked me for winning! The scoundrels! Dare I say… The audacity!” The doctor brings a hand to his chest, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear the memory of it.“That part is true, mhm. Buut, dear Devorak here forgot the most important part where-”

“Where a dashing magician swooped to my rescue!” Julian interrupts, his eye somehow sparkling at the heroic memory. The magician in question just rolls his eyes. “I… Well, I guess, technically yes. But after that, I was having trouble walking and fell, but we… we’re- were being chased, so he picked me up, and, well, uh, here we are!”

Asra cannot believe what they've heard. Actually, no, they entirely believe it, they just wish they didn't. But it sounds like they had fun, and that's what matters most. “So long as you're both okay now. Just… Remind me to never let you two go unsupervised for too long.”

Faust pokes her head out from Asra's collar, leveling herself with Julian. Squeeze? She tilts her head in request. Except, as soon as he sees her purple snake self, he's backing away from the door and out of Lys' reach. Which does cause the shorter man to stumble with his main support being yanked away

“I believe that's my cue! Farewell, friends!” The drunken doctor bows dramatically as he walks backwards away from the shop, nearly tripping over himself in the process. He slips off into the night with as much grace as he can muster. The two magicians and one familiar watch him go with amusement.

“Bye bye Julian!!” Lys waves him off, then turns to his white haired companion, currently holding him upright. “And… Hello you.”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[ateriblewriter]

Seven Stages

A/N: this is written differently. Please bear with me.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and consequences of drinking too much.

There are seven levels of alcohol intoxication. They are as follows:

1. Sobriety. That one should be self explanatory. You are sober. Your group decides a to have a little. A little party. It’s all fun and games. Sure you drink something but you don’t really feel anything or exhibit any signs of being intoxicated, but something is starting to build. 

2. Euphoria. During this stage you start to feel really good about yourself. As the drinks start flowing your confidence, talkativeness, and sociality begin to increase. You need to start being careful though. At this point although it maybe fun, your words will start to sound a little funny, your memory of future events will be fuzzy, you will most likely come away with bruises you have no knowledge of getting. 

3. Excitement. It should glaringly evident to everyone around that you are drunk, but due to that fact that they are all highly drunk as well it will go unnoticed. What they do notice is your large mood swings from happy to mean to sad all within a matter moments. You somehow obtain even more bruises now. You can't form words and you vision is blurry. You are starting to get sick. You need something to drink and are met with more shot which you gladly down without any hesitancy. Liquid is liquid right?

4. Confusion. You have officially blacked out. You will not remember anything after this point tomorrow. You're confused why some told you no more. You disregard them anyways by stealing the bottle sitting on the edge of the counter. Your pain tolerance is out of this world and your auto pilot switch has been turned on, making you feel like an unstoppable force.

5. Stupor. You are a zombie like creature, unable to walk, or breathe. The uncontrollable vomiting burns your throat, eventually you start to choke on the stuff coming up. Your irregular heart beat and seizure will lead to some unconciousness.

Please also note that at this stage you will need medical attention, you are close to the final stages there may be life threatening consequences that will not only affect you.

6. Coma. Everyone thinks you're just in a deep sleep because no amount of stimuli will wake you. Someone has the decency to bring you up to your room where you can sleep in off and be fine the next day. In their drunken stupor they are sorely mistaken.

7. Death. This one like sobriety is pretty self explanatory. You stop breathing, your heart stops beating and your lips may turn a cool blue color. This is the end of the line for you.

~

Quinn was supposed to be in charge. He was burdened with being the oldest person in home at the time of the incident. He was probably going to be taking the brunt of the blame for what happened to her. There was an underage kid in a house filled with booze and a dead person. He should have known better. 

Jack invited her. She was his friend first back in New Jersey. He had invited her for the summer with the intention of getting to know her than he already and maybe starting something with her. Out of everyone he felt the most guilty. If it weren’t for him she would have never been there.

Cole wasn’t even supposed to be there. He just happened to be passing through and figured it would fun to catch up with his friends. He like many of the others didn’t know his new friend but he was still there and felt like maybe he could have done more.

Trevor kept giving her drinks. He bought most of the stuff they consumed that night. He was the one playing bartender creating colorful drinks and shots that would have destroyed anyones liver at first glance, but she enjoyed them so he kept them going. Behind Jack he fully believed it he was the one most at fault.

Matt tried to get her to stop drinking earlier in that night. Even in his own drunken state he could tell it was getting out of control for her, and tried to tell her no more. He didn't see when she went behind his back and swiped another bottle of something blue full of liquor.

Alex was the who eventually brought her bed and covered her with a blanket when he felt she was a bit cool to the touch. He didn't really think anything of it. They were all highly intoxicated and needed sleep. She, like everyone else, would be fine in the morning. Well not fine, the hangover were going be killer, literally.

Luke found her. He was worried when it was well past the middle of the day and she wasn’t up yet. Grabbing a glass of water and a little something to eat he trudged into her room. He found her looking so peaceful. Unbeknownst to him, she hadn't moved an inch from where Alex had placed her the night before.

~

"Y/N it's time to get up." Luke placed the food on the bedside table next to her bed. She looked so calm and restful, as though she had been as sleep for a thousand years. He wondered how exactly she did that. He'd have to get her secrets later.

"Hey, Y/N." He placed a hand on her shoulder giving it a little shake. No response. He grabbed ahold of her face thinking she’d surely stir from the contact. Nothing. She looked so still so quiet. almost as if she were- oh no.

He needed to get anyone of the people older than him that occupied the home, most likely Quinn. Yeah he would know what to do.

But Luke couldn’t move, as though he were tethered in place. Panic coursed through his body. She is dead. No pulse. No anything.

“Luke?” Another figured entered the room, he could have probably figured out who it was by the voice but he wasn’t paying attention.

“She’s gone.” He whispered so quietly to Trevor, the other person who had moments before entered the room couldn’t understand what he was saying. He did get the sense that whatever the nineteen year old had said was most likely about Y/N.

Taking steps forward Trevor did the same thing Luke had tried minutes earlier to wake her. Finding the same success that Luke had. His heart started sinking when he searched y/n’s wrist for a pulse.

“Fuck.” Trevor ran out of the room and down the stairs to where the other were lounging around planning the events of the next night.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N.” Trevor gasped for air.

“What about her?” Jack jumped up, worry etched on his face.

“She’s she’s” Trevor had gotten out all the words he intended to before Jack made a mad dash up to her room. Seeing Luke the way he was Jack came to his own conclusion that he was never going to see her again.

“She’s what. Spit it out Z.” The others got to their ready to follow in the middle Hughes brother tracks. But they waited, wanting to her what their friend had to say first.

“Y/N’s dead.” Trevor eventually got out. “At least I think she is. I”

“What do you mean by ‘I think she is?’” Matt questioned, he reached for his phone s sharing a quick look with Quinn. A scream was heard from upstairs, presumably from Jack’s lips, sent almost everyone running.

Matt stayed behind with Alex. He was going to make the important call. If by a chance Y/N wasn’t gone she was going to need help.

~

“Alright boys, we’re going to need to talk with each of you individually. Now as of right now no one is in trouble. Y/f/N Y/L/N’s death was an accident. But we do need to know what happened. So whose going to start?” The detective asked the group. No one wanted to go, but Trevor offered to go first.

“So we’re all in agreement that this isn’t our fault?” Quinn looked at the group of hockey players surrounding him, Cole was the only one to nod. Everyone else felt some sort of guilt. They had been there they should have done something more.

“They’re going to find someone to blame.” Luke finally broke his silence that he had been holding for awhile now. “We were all here we are all getting in trouble for this.”

“We’re never going to play in the show again are we?” Cole piped up, sounding quite insensitive at the moment. “They aren’t going to want us anymore.”

“Seriously? That’s all you care about right now? Y/N is dead. We are most likely going to jail. Who fucking cares about hockey now. It’s not important anymore.” A few tears escaped Jacks eyes. 

He was right. People were going to get in trouble for this. Someone had to be at fault. But who was innocent and who was to blame?

[onlyhereforangst]

11. ellick for the mini fics 🩵

11. things you said when you were drunk

“Another.”

No sense of hesitancy, and someone who didn’t know him like she did wouldn’t pick up the dash of self-directed shame that mixed in to the simple statement. 

The bartender made quick work- not that it was hard, the bottle of scotch hadn’t gone far. The contents had, they’d travelled down the scruff-laded neck with a quick pitstop in the shot glass first. Each gulp smoother yet simultaneously less coordinated, if that was possible. 

“You wanna call it, bud?” the older man behind the mahogany bar asked. And she could tell it was familiar. Not pitying, not fearful, not even largely concerned. Just…familiar. 

He’d done this before. He had this conversation frequently. More than just the few nights she’d tagged along for in the last week. 

Oh, Nick.

He’d been sober when she’d walked away that brisk early summer afternoon. Sober for a few months even. He’d stuck to club soda for a while, she thought, remembering his little joke from a month into it. Poking fun at their earlier selves, when their world was about to upend with news of Ziva’s reappearance, but worrying about who was worrying about who seemed important. 

A calloused fingertip caught a stray drop of ice cold condensation before it could reach the bar top, dragging it back up the path it came from- back to the top of the highball glass filled with none other than- club soda. 

And if that wasn’t the metaphor of her life these past two years. A year under, two to get out. Trapped, desperate to retrace her steps, reverse the path that took her here. Three years later and back in her rightful place, or was she? 

She peered at the damage her fingertip had done—a small drop of condensation that skated around the other tiny beads, slipping away from them, out of sight- out of mind. Except now, trying to forcibly put the drop back in its place, she’d left a wake of destruction. Thousands of tiny beads smeared across the glass surface, a bulldozed path five times as wide as the first, innocent one. 

She may have slipped out of his life, but would coming back destroy more than it would fix? Was it a fool’s journey to try and put something back that probably didn’t belong in the first place?

“…f-fuck, man!” Nick’s slurred but firm timbre was clear as day, even in her seat at the far, catty-corner end of the bar. 

Her vision moved from the messy highball and up to the mirrored bar backsplash, angled perfectly for her to take in Nick’s flared nostrils and the bartender’s relaxed stance. Clearly he wasn’t put off or even remotely surprised by the outburst. Hell, no one in the bar even twitched.

Quieter, more solemn, he continued, “I fucking loved her,” his head sagged and shoulders dropped- like the life had been sucked out of him with those four simple words. The air around her stilled, vanished even. Nothing passed over her slack lips.

She could make out the bartender’s slight tilt of his head, silently urging Nick to continue even as Nick’s eyes never left the empty shot glass in front of him. 

“Ellie,” it came out as a whisper and every muscle fiber in her body froze. But his eyes hadn’t lifted to her spot at the bar, they’d glazed over, unfocused on the present, rather likely focused on the millions of small memories her mind was now flipping through. Each time her name crossed his lips, in joy, in fear, in love, she melancholically surmised. 

“I loved Ellie,” Nick amended his earlier statement. 

And the bartender shifted his weight back, nothing else had surprised the man, but this statement apparently had. It hadn’t been the declaration of love, had it? It had to have been her name. Nick had never put a name to the claim. Never wanted to make it real, she bet. 

What had changed? Why now? She’d probably never get her answers. He loved her, past tense. Three years past. 

Another flicker of movement caught her drifting attention- his fingertip, chasing its own path, circling the top of the shot glass. Round and round it went, never easing up, almost like it couldn’t, like it refused to falter or move on. Circling and retracing, wondering where it all went wrong? she guessed pessimistically. 

Until it paused. 

And his chin lifted. 

Eyes steeled as best the welled up tears would allow. 

“I love her.”

Fuck. 

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. 

“I still love Ellie...” Nick clarified to the riveted bartender. 

Her existence here, in DC at this bar in the periphery of Nick’s life, hung on his next words that came out as a deflated sigh.

“...and how fucked is that?” 

[i0veless]

EYE CONTACT :: PHIL FODEN

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ sometimes, a little eye contact is all you need to catch the feels ]  𖥻 PAIRING ー [ phil foden x fem! model! reader ]   𖥻 GENRE ー [ love at first sight, fluff, suggestive content ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 0.4k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ mentions of sex, drugs, alcohol, partying - let me know if i missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ requested by @liquorsmooth "please a fic where the reader and phil foden meet for the first time at a party of a few friends that they have in common, and where they automatically feel a really strong attraction to each other so they keep eye contact all the time (and then happens whatever you’d like to!)" thank you for the idea I really enjoyed writing for foden, and sorry that this is so short recently I have been falling into a creative slump and I need something short and sweet to pull me out of It, but hope you enjoy anyway ]

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The air smelt of drugs, alcohol and sex. Three things that everyone in that room was familiar with, even Y/N. Though some may have deemed it immoral and reckless, others would have blamed it on the lifestyle. But the enticing idea of free alcohol and an escape from your problems made A-lister party a go-to hub to forget life's woes. People that attended had the media on high alert ready to cover the next scandalous piece of news, but even that wouldn't stop them from drinking the night away. And here she was, sitting in a booth with all her friends at a high-end club with one purpose. To get as drunk as humanly possible and have a pile of regrets higher than Everest by morning.

Four drinks in the model felt like she could take on the world. She wasn't wasted. Yet. But she sure as hell wasn't sober, which was probably why she took such an interest in him: buzzed hair and shirtless - a diamond in the rough. Now if she were straight-headed, Y/N would have never even dreamed of hitting on someone wearing Adidas shorts to a club. But thankfully for the mystery man, she was slightly out of it and needed a quick fix.

Admiring him from afar was her favourite activity of the night, as she tried to unpick who he was based on the clues he gave. He was fit - a model? Maybe, Footballer? Possibly. He was standing with a group of friends and one of her mutuals Jack Grealish at a pool table on the other side of the room, laughing and drinking the night away with everyone else.

But regardless of who he was. God, he looked good, pool stick in hand and a beer in the other. Y/N wouldn't mind waking up to his pretty face every morning, but she wasn't here for love. Just like he probably wasn't, but a girl could dream, couldn't she? Though it was a bit soon to be talking about love, they hadn't even made eye contact yet. So who knows what their story will be, lovers or strangers? That's left for the universe to decide.

They could be the next love story, or they could be two ships that cross in the night and never meet again. But enough with the romantics, Y/N thought as she ordered another drink. Completely oblivious that the mystery boy on the other side of the room had his heart set on her long before she even knew of his existence, he was going to make sure that they would do a lot more than have prolonged eye contact.

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ making the bed !

pairing: hueningkai x slightly toxic!reader summary: life was miserable for you. it wasn't for kai. and while he could never change your circumstances, he was there for you. word count: 0.6k extra: inspired by olivia rodrigos making the bed ! and it's not happy. y/n has mental health issues !! implied death of a loved one . lots of mentions of being drunk .

you were notoriously aggressive. not in a negative way, just well... set in your ways. you always got what you wanted in the end, even if you didn't always go about it in the best ways. which is why it was shocking huening kai was so drawn to you.

kai was thoughtful, where you were thoughtless. not much happened in your brain before you made a decision (not that you were dumb anything, you just were brash!!!) yet kai was meticulous, calculating.

to you, everything was a sign for something else. you played pretend, dressing up behind fake smiles and forced laughter. there was such little joy left in your life. anything fun you somehow managed to ruin.

and kai was all too familiar with your behaviour. it worried him.

some nights, you would disappear, only to show up at his door at an ungodly hour. drunk. only propped up by two slightly-sober friends. he'd let you stay with him. he knew you couldn't go home. not like that.

yet come morning, you'd be gone. you'd push and push him away for around a week, then show up drunk once again. your drunken confessions usually lasted under ten minutes, yet they made everything make sense.

you were miserable with your life.

you were more miserable when you would startle awake in the middle of the night, kai instantly rushing to your side.

he was always there.

he had to be.

the one night he wasn't, everything changed.

"i’m sorry, i heard about-" kai began, already fumbling for words. what do you say to someone who may lose the person they hold closest to their heart? there is nothing to say. nothing to fix the wrongs.

"don't. she is not your sister lying on that hospital room." you snapped, yet there was no visible anger in your eyes. not towards kai at least. towards the world, maybe. but not towards him. you were hurting.

"i know what it feels like to have someone you care about in danger. when there's nothing you can do for the one you love. all there's left to do is sit through the storm, and pray it doesn’t sweep them away."

two years.

every night whilst you slept terribly, battling the nightmares, he sat awake in bed, wondering what could have been different had he been there.

he brought it up once to a friend, who simply laughed in his face. they told him you had a 'victim complex'.

you were fucked in the head, basically.

and kai knew that if there was even any truth to that statement, you were already trying to fix that. you were seeing someone, getting help. your life was out of your control, and you were working to get it back.

some days were simply worse than others, for both you and kai. you teetered on the edge of love. drunkenly, you would tell him you loved him. and stupidly, he would believe it.

a chemical imbalance in your brain. or so kai tried so hard to believe. anything besides the choice that sometimes, you were just cruel.

it was hard to believe that, though. because when you were good, god you were amazing. you could be so sweet, so apologetic. you regretted being who you were. and it was obvious to kai when you would cry into his sweater, a sobbing mess.

you, at the end of the day, were the one who made all those bad decisions. you were suffering the consequences. you were the one to blame. there was nowhere to hide. accountability was knocking on your door. and while you refused to answer it for the time being, kai would be there when you were ready.

he always would. you're the one making the bed, but kai would always be by your side.

authors note : this is the one based off of making the bed! i am a terrible person. i don't know why i chose to injure a sibling. maybe cuz i feel like ive lost mine idk. lol. idk i might go on hiatus im not doing the best rn and i think how terrible this is reflects that like this was just projection.

©2024 — all rights reserved to hueningsloverr , please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! ❤️I love your stories and was maybe wondering if you would write a Shelby Family x reader story where she is their half sibling who grew up in America. Like  Arthur Sr. Had an affair with a woman visiting from the US right around the time Finn was also conceived and maybe that woman was who their father ended up running to when he left like a year later, but not because he was in love but because she had money and he could get her drugs and stuff. And so the reader kinda grew up “seeing” Arthur sr rarely but also being raised quietly by her richer non gangster grandparents (even unofficially taking their last name instead of Shelby)while her “parents” just went off and did whatever. one day her grandparents die and even though she is almost 19 and only a few months younger than Finn she is sent all the way to England to live with the son of her grandparents friend. And who is that son of a Friend she is send to live with? Our favorite Jewish Baker Alfred (who also doesn’t know she’s a Shelby) !!! And then like Alfie kinda takes her under his wing and cares for her like her grandparents and let’s her work in the legal part of the bakery (while not telling her about his gang b/c she actually wanted a quiet nonviolent life having seen how her parents acted) then one day she’s talking to Goliath for lunch when three men come in and one says his name is Arthur Shelby and then R gets all confused. Because as far as she knows there’s only One Arthur Shelby and the man in front of him is ABSOLUTELY not him (this guys to nice and sober to be her sperm donor). So she starts arguing with him that he’s not actually Arthur Shelby and like “why would he be impersonating such a random drunk who never did anything” and and Arthur being Arthur gets kinda offended and starts arguing back with this random teenage girl (very similar to how he would argue with teenage Ada) that he is in fact Arthur Shelby “Yes I am -no you’re not -yeah I am -no your NOT…. Etc.” and they both just end up bickering and everyone is confused until like John realizes that the she may be taking about Arthur Sr and they figure it out. Idk what would happen next the older Shelby’s would probably like be pissed and ignore her for a bit but I could see Finn being curious would be the first to reach out again kinda excited to have a sibling his age who isn’t as rough as his family and they would get close and then Ada would be the next to follow excited to have a sister. And yeah, idk sorry this is long but basically it would be the Shelby’s having a half sister who ends up in Alfie’s care and only realizes she has siblings after arguing with Arthur about his own name😂😂 you don’t have to though!!❤️❤️❤️

Dear Anon,

This request was amazing, and I don't think my writing can live up to it's greatness. Thank you for entrusting it to me and for waiting forever. I really hope you enjoy it!

Lots of love & Happy New Year!

Warnings: Peaky-type themes + Happy ending

You were crushed as you lay on the worn hardwood floor of your bedroom. All your family was suddenly gone leaving you out in the world on your own. In a year you would have an impressive estate to fall back on, but as for now, it was their request to send you to England. You looked up at the floral wallpaper suddenly determined to commit it to memory, once you walked out that door this, this, this energy…. You struggled to label what exactly would be ripped from you once you walked out the door. All you knew was that everything would become real the second your feet touched the bottom of the front steps. 

The possibility, no matter how stupid, of them simply being on a long trip would become a distant dream. They would officially be dead. 

They had a family friend who had called on the phone to let you know he had arranged everything. His gruff voice made you weary. You didn't like men, but strange men you would live with, in a foreign country? Absolute no. You were very aware that they were probably murdered and if sending you to this man was their wish you knew it was because he would protect you. 

Anger was boiling under your skin overshadowing the deep grief you were experiencing. People had you packed up out of your childhood home on a boat before the dirt had been poured over their coffins. 

Over the long journey, your mind ran rampant over the finer details of your life. Your father was English, what if this was just an elaborate plot to drag you down into that life. He was an abnormally cruel man, keeping your mum sedated with drugs, and spending her money. What if he was the one to murder them? Getting his hands on you only to gain their estate money…. Your body started to spin out of control at the thought. 

Your Grandmother was a Scottish woman with a hellfire temper, seeing what was happening in the home she’d removed you. You squeezed your eyes tightly knowing she’d never be there to hold you again. 

They were good people, they taught you to be a good person despite the heartache that came from being stood up and endangered countless times by your parents. You made a promise to yourself that if things were rough, or if they were improper in any way you would leave and use the little money you saved up to find your Grandma’s sister in Glasgow. 

After what felt like an eternity, but also a very short and hazy amount of time you had arrived. You watched as black cars pulled up and a very well-dressed man got out. His employees took your suitcases from your hands and you initially flinched at the attention. 

Mr.Solomons was massive. Both physically and in personality. He came up to you and squeezed your slender frame in a crushing hug. 

“Sorry ‘bout the family, love.” He grumbled. 

“Thanks,” You said breathlessly as he squashed you. 

_____________________________________

Despite being a rather posh group of people he could tell she’d not been treated properly in her life. Jumpy, timid, and refused to make eye contact. She was bat-shit scared of the situation. 

He thought about taking her down to Arrow House. Dropping her off with her proper extended family. Thinking of the New Years' party he attend with the maids whoring themselves out, he thought it best to hold on to her a bit. Thomas was a lot of things and none she would find comfort in. Not that he was much better, but at least the beach house only kept a small staff, two maids, and one cook. All female and all well into their 60’s. 

Alfie watched as she slowly settled in after a few weeks. He tried his best to act in a predictable manner in an attempt to scare her less. She asked a million questions about what he did, he knew she wasn't stupid so he told her the lighter version of the truth. 

A mistake. 

But she eventually calmed down enough to come to dinner and question him some more about morality and ethical values. 

Give it another week and she was helping in the front bakery. She made all sorts of treats he’d not heard of before and insisted that single mothers or folks struggling didn't have to pay. He’d wanted to argue but he could still see that she was hanging on by the thread and needed a project more than a business lecture. 

She’d finally laugh with her whole belly, and tease him endlessly.  

He’d just about gotten used to her presence when everything had to get blown up. 

______________________________________________________________

You were just done telling Alfie that he smelled like a wet dog when a tall man in a funny hat came in. 

“Can I help you?” You asked in a hesitant voice. Alfie had disappeared and it was just the man and you in the back warehouse of the bakery. 

“Probably not, love. Where’s Alfie then?” There was a sharp edge in his voice that made you absolutely refuse to tell him. 

“Who’s asking.” 

“Arthur Shelby,” He said waiting for you to run and announce his presence. 

“Yeah and I’m the Virgin Mary. Try again.” You crossed your arms across your chest. This is exactly the kind of thing you were expecting. Obviously, he’d send someone to ruin what bit of happiness Alfie had given you. 

“Oi! What’s this ‘bout. That’s my fu-ck-ing name” 

“No, it’s not. Arthur Shelby is a right useless cunt that’s probably too drunk to stand at this hour. Did he send you here then?” 

“That’s- I am a man of God. Now enough of these stupid games. Go get Alfie” He cursed under his breath and you refused to be intimidated by him. 

“NO.” You said sternly. “No man of God would pretend to be such a bastard. You should leave.” 

“Look!  I am on business. Can’t leave till it's done. Now get him the fuck out here” 

You both entered a weird staring contest when you heard Alfie come down the stairs. 

“Right little brat you have here,” Arthur growled and you sneered at him. “How many Arthur Shelbys are probably out th-” 

“Do you mean Arthur William Shelby?” Another man asked stepping into the warehouse. 

“See you do know him!” You growled. 

“Your dad fucked about, that can’t be much of a shock to you,” Alfie said with a chuckle. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The two men said in unison. 

You watched as the men squared up against each other. 

“Half-sister” Alfie pointed to you. “Her grandparents took her in when her mum went the same way your mum did. Must be his type.” Arthur looked like he was ready to punch him in the face. “Her Grandparents helped me with business in New York. Left her to me when they knew you lot were the only other option.” 

Arthur spat on Alfie’s shoes. “Like you’re a better option?!” He handed Alfie an envelope. “You better call Thomas before I speak to him.” He stood there for a moment obviously contemplating whether he should attempt to fight Alfie or leave. “And this better not be some fucking joke.” He stormed off. 

“You’re really his kid?” John said and you noticed the sadness in his eyes. You nodded and he turned around and followed after his brother. 

You looked at Alfie and suddenly needed to sit down. He caught you before you landed on the floor. He placed you in a chair in his office. 

“I don’t want to know any man -” You shook your head unable to finish the sentence. Obviously, something had to come crashing down. You’d become accustomed to your little cramped bedroom, eating breakfast in his office, and tea out by the water no matter how awful the weather was. He always listened and would ramble on about stuff that seemed completely useless. It wasn't home, but he made it feel more like an adventure. His hands were gripping the sides of your arms. 

“Easy now, love.” He said softly. “It’s not that bad.” 

“You knew I had family - His family around here and didn't say anything?”

“Well, they left you to me not them -” 

“Alfie.” 

“I didn’t think you would mix in with them right away. Figured you needed some space from everything.” 

“Are they like him?” 

“Gypsy trash? Mostly. Thomas is a right mess -” He sighed at your expression. “They aren’t that bad.”

“Lie” 

“I like hating him. Were friends for the most part. His family is pure chaos, but he treats them well enough.” He squeezed your arm. “Wanted to give you a bit of time before introducing them.” 

Tears started to prickle in the corners of your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t send you anywhere I thought wasn’t safe. Despite being a right pain in the ass, you're not a terrible person. Don’t deserve to live with terrible people.” 

________________________________________________

Tommy made his phone calls. Got all the evidence together, all of it pointing to him having a half-sister. With this knowledge came a heavy dilemma. 

Bring her into the never-ending mess. Or let her live a nice life with all that money. 

He thought about her being with Alfie, not much different than having her here? 

He groaned pouring another glass of whiskey. 

Fucking fuck. He thought about his dad and settled into the familiar acidity of his anger. 

He made the phone call. 

“Thomas.” 

“Alfie.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “Got my sister there?” 

“She’s in bed.” 

“Bring her around then. I’ll take her in.” 

“She’s not a bloody horse Tom” 

“How old is she?” 

“18” 

“Why bother with her then, eh?” She was an adult no reason to keep her. 

“She’s in my care till she’s 19. That’s how it is ‘cross the pond.” 

He sore silently. 

“Still she’s my family. Should have her here.” 

“Exactly what her grandparents didn’t want. I don’t know your father but he did a right number on her.”

“On all of us,” Tommy answered bitterly instantly regretting expressing that to Alfie. He thought of the poor girl and felt for her. “Just bring her around eh? She can decide. But I need to speak with her.” 

“I’ll ask her. She’s flighty when it comes to the business though. M’ not having her over there with maids whoring about and men getting shot in the parking lot.” 

“Fuck sake! It was one party, ages ago, that got out of hand.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“That’s because you party like fucking savages!” 

“We've got kids now- things are different-” 

“Fuck off - you lot are always running from things! “ 

“From what?! All my fucking money?!” 

“Alfie?” a quiet voice interrupted whatever he was going to reply with and suddenly the line went dead. Fucking idiot, they always bitch at each other like schoolchildren. Not even Arthur or John act like that. 

He climbed the stairs and got into bed next to Lizzie. 

“She’s your sister then?” She asked in the dark. He didn't respond. “Can always tell when you're talking to him - shouting your bloody head off.”

“I don’t want her to stay with him. Just the two of them in that dusty house. It’s not right.” 

“Have her over then.” 

“That’s the plan.”

Lizzie made a soft sound before coming over to press against his side. He didn't sleep. 

Waking up in the morning he called the family in. Feeling stupid for overlooking one specific and glaringly obvious issue. 

Polly. 

The girl stood in the entryway looking equal parts terrified and ready for a fight. Polly looked over the girl in a way that told Thomas everything he needed to know. She’d be a part of the family no matter what anyone wanted to say about it. 

Two weeks after Michael left to go back to his adoptive parents. A month after hearing that her daughter had died. Now there was an awkward lanky girl, with eyes that had seen too much, looking back at her. A need was filled. 

Looking at Alfie it was obvious that it bothered him. Why he’d grown attached to her, for his sake, better have been a paternal thing. 

“We have some business,” He said to the girl once the introductions took place she gave a nod and followed him with her head held high. He wasn’t surprised to see Polly following closely behind her. 

Alfie decided to stay in the entryway and harass Arthur some more.

He motioned to a chair and she took a seat looking around the space. Polly’s eyes watched her like she was a showhorse up for bid. 

“You knew my father then?” Her face twisted up and he realized he probably could have started things off in a better way. 

“Yes. And I’m almost certain he killed my grandparents. That’s why I’m here with Alfie. So if you're in on his plan” She leaned on the desk and stared at him. “I see you.”

“Haven't seen him in years. Don’t need the extra cash either” He motioned to the house. That seemed to appease her slightly as she leaned back into the chair. 

“He is an awful man and if this is where he would go when he wasn't drugging my mum or making my life hell then I want nothing to do with you lot.” 

“Not here with us.” He confirmed wondering where on earth he was now. “I don’t like the thought of my sister alone in that junk museum with a potential enemy.” 

“Alfie’s fine.” 

“When he wants to be.” He answer wondering why he cared. 

“Same as you, no?” She challenged. 

“Look, let’s just get to know each other. We are family, one more at the table is a blessing. We have no other motives going on. It’s not much of a shock that you're here, I just wish it was under better circumstances.” Polly said squeezing her shoulder. “Alfie has been unpredictable in the past, but he is a good friend of the family. Both of you can come around whenever.” 

“Thank you.” The girl responded with a small smile. “If we really are all on the same side. Perhaps you could help me find out what happened to my Grandparents?” 

“I-” 

“Of course, we can, love. We know lots of people in New York.” Polly responded before he could tell her it was better to let these things be forgotten. 

___________________________________

You sat in at dinner and found yourself having to leave the room for laughing so hard. Tommy and Alfie were like cat and dog. If anything they seemed more married than anyone else at the table. They clearly had a long history. 

You stepped out on one of the balconies trying to catch your breath. Everyone told you that laugh was not table-appropriate and you didn't want to offend these people. 

Suddenly the door opened and Ada walked out. She gave you another look over and touched your cheek. 

“Can’t believe I have a proper sister.” She said in a warm tone. 

‘Half-” You were going to correct her but she cut you off. 

“Same thing. You look like things weren’t the best for you growing up and I wanted to tell you I can relate. I remember dad too clearly. I really wish I didn’t.” She gave you a sad smile and you realized that they had him around all the time when they were young. Not just here and there when he wasn't on long trips. 

You tried to say something but just ended up silent hands making an awkward gesture. 

“Don’t have to explain it.” She tucked your hair behind your ear. “I hope we can get to know each other better. Do our hair, go out, gossip. I always felt so jealous of my friends who had sisters.” 

You thought about how nice that sounded and gave her a nod. 

“I’d like that a lot.” 

“I’ll warn you though.” Your stomach twisted up waiting for her to tell you something horrible. “Polly’s found out her daughter that was taken from her died, and her son went back to his foster parents recently - it’s a long story - She’s probably going to try and smother you.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah. Every time we see a baby in a carriage she starts crying. It’s not been an easy time for her lately. Just try to humor her if you can. I’ll be staying here for a while with Karl. Nice to have the family around to help out with him.” 

“That’s your son?” 

“Yes! I’ll introduce you to all the kids in the morning.” She smiled brightly and you got excited at the idea of being an aunt. 

“Esme will also probably want to recruit you. The boys always end up outnumbering us so I’m sure she’ll be happy-” 

“Stop making me sound like I’m a cult leader!” Esme whispered taking the cigarette out of Ada’s hand. “I’m just saying that Tommy needs to be kept in line - look at her she’s got fight in her eyes!” They both looked at you causing a thick blush to cover your cheeks. Just then Lizzie showed up. 

“Oi stop making me sound like a bad wife! I keep in check plenty these days thank you.” 

“Maybe you could use another round of that, looking a little tense, love.” Esme pinched her bottom and she slapped her playfully. 

“Cult of bad wives or whatever nonsense they were corrupting you with - It’s lovely to have you around. Got a nice laugh.” 

“No! I know it’s horrible I wasn't allowed to laugh too much- that’s why I came out here -” You stuttered trying to explain. 

“They wouldn't let you laugh?” Polly interrupted closing the patio door behind her. 

“I mean it wasn't proper for me to laugh like that.” You crooked your head to the side wondering why that wasn't obvious to them. 

“YOU LOT BEST BEHAVE YOURSELVES!” Tommy called out loudly interrupting his current argument with Alfie. 

You started laughing again much to their delight. 

“As you can see we are not the most proper.” Lizzie did a little wave with her hand. 

“You all spend a lot of time together?” Suddenly you wanted to be cool like them. The way they all looked different but so pretty. Esme had wild hair and dark makeup, Lizzie looked like she belonged on the cover of an expensive fashion magazine, Polly looked like a part of her was owned by a force of nature, and Ada was soft but elegant. 

“You could say that!” They laughed

“The boys are always out-” 

“Better than being alone -” 

You nodded. You never had real friends growing up, certainly none like this. 

“Don’t worry, love. We will corrupt you in due time.” Esme said with a wink. 

You got pulled into the kitchen and watched as they got louder and louder. Loud enough that Thomas came in eventually with his sleeves rolled up and his face red. 

“How could you possibly be louder than us eh?” He looked angry till a smile broke out on his face and he went over to kiss Lizzie’s cheek.

“Hope you lot haven’t melted her brains” Alfie grumbled but also looked in good spirits. The rest of the boys, your brothers piled in. Finn was around the same age as you a fact that made your heart hurt a little bit. His dad spent all his time tormenting you instead of being there for him. Would he see that as a blessing or a curse? He shook your hand and started up with a million questions about New York and your funny accent. His friend sat down beside you resting his arm on the back of your chair. 

He reached out his hand “Isaiah”

You introduced yourself, shaking his hand. The two boys went back and forth asking different things. It was nice to be with people your own age. The three of you chattered on and then quieted down to listen to Alfie’s story.

You burst out laughing and all the women started cheering you on turning your face a deep shade of crimson. 

“I like that laugh,” Isaiah said quietly and the thought of staying around here wasn't so bad suddenly. 

_______________________

You were torn, but you decided to go back with Alfie in the early morning. Polly made you promise to call once you got it and wrote down eight different numbers to reach her at in case of emergency or just in case I wanted to talk. 

You smiled at her and saw a familiar feeling behind her eyes as she kissed your cheek.

On the drive home, Alfie mumbled about how they are a good lot of bad people. Something you would have to embrace unless you wanted to go off on your own.

“Thanks for going with me.” You said once settled in the beach house. 

“No need to thank me.” He said brushing you off. 

“If I were to go live with them, could I still work at the bakery?” 

“Of course.” He gave you a tight smile and you felt bad for him being shut up in the house all the time.

“Can I stay over sometimes too? I love all of them but the kids, and the horses, and its - erm - a lot at times?” 

“My house is always open to you, no matter what.” He patted your shoulder and you went off to bed. 

Polly fussing over her unsure of what bad stuff had happened to her over the years. Wanting to help her figure out what actually happened to her Grandparents and starting one of those massive pinboards with string in the sitting room trying to help her piece it all together. Eventually, Esme and Lizzie got really invested in helping. Thomas wondering what's going on and poking his head in and all of them shouting at him to leave. Him muttering Women under his breath but sneaking in at night to circle a few things he thought was important in the evidence anyway.

Them actually cracking the case and being surprised when she wakes up to a newspaper on the kitchen table saying that a local Jewish gang was suspected in the murder of Arthur William Shelby Senior. 

Being shocked and watching as the family all came over to the house. You finding it weird that they spend more time talking to you about your grandparents than they did mourn their father. Once they were sure you were alright the celebratory drinking started. 

Isaiah suddenly always wanting to come over and hang out around Arrow House or Polly’s place whenever you were there. Finn teasing him endless amounts but also making it very clear that if it ended badly that Finn would do his job as your brother. 

Alfie coming over constantly to bother Thomas and slowly becoming more of an uncle in your eyes. Always around to cause trouble. 

Ruby fell in love with you, always insisting loudly that you had to be the one to carry her around. She’d often bust into your room at strange times to see if you wanted to play. Once you came up to your room to find her asleep in your bed. 

Finally being able to laugh and speak your mind about literally anything. Listening to them rant about things or poke fun at you. Shopping, parties, trips to London to shop and party some more. You thought it funny that they would go to parties basically just to watch people and only interact with themselves despite always being around each other. The gossip was always very spicy. 

Isaiah and you getting caught kissing on a street corner after a romantic date. A friend of Lizzie calling her saying she saw you. That going dramatically across the phone tree leading to you coming home and getting dragged into the kitchen for whiskey and interrogation. Was it good? Did he use tongue? Where were his hands?  Did he walk you to the door or just wait in the car? He did wait to see that you got in right?! 

Isaiah dealing with Tommy in the office when Alfie shows up and both of them being over protective dads. 

Finally, your 19th birthday rolls around. Finn saying that he felt you might leave, try being on your own for a bit, or that maybe Isaiah would propose. Polly overhearing it and starting to worry about you to the point where she sits you down and has a long talk about what it’s like being on your own and the head of a house, what it's like being married. You interpret this as them feeling like you should leave. Esme catching you in your bathroom crying as she dropped your dress for the party off. Clearing up the misunderstanding she wipes the tears from your face and does your makeup for you. “I’m not ready to be a grown-up.” You whisper looking up at her dark eyes. The warm glow of your pink bathroom makes you feel even smaller. “Look you’ve got a hot boyfriend that your family will literally kill if he hurts you, a hot dress to wear, and your makeup is finally done properly. Party is going to be amazing because I planned most of it. All of this is growing up. With this much love, it won’t be so bad.” She kissed your forehead. “All that stuff Polly told you was about her life. Back then she didn’t have anyone as cool as us watching her back.” 

The party becoming an absolute mess with some business deal going on in the background. Isaiah defending her bravely then going in for a big kiss in the middle of the entryway as things around them are falling apart. Guns firing, people screaming and throwing things. The whole thing wrapping up and you sitting in his lap in the kitchen sipping a whiskey out of his glass. The family finally feeling like he earned your attention and leaving you both alone for once.

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

12.

"One, two, three!" Lily shouted, counting off before slamming her red solo cup on the table and raising it to her lips, taking in its contents swiftly. 

I did the same, as well as a few other girls. Tequila slid down my throat, bringing with it a slight burn and warmth that spread through my chest. I shivered and squealed, a bit of energy surging through my body all at once. 

The kitchen was packed solid with bodies. It was a small space that seemed to be bulging at the seams with people. We nestled into the crook of the counter right next to the fridge. As soon as we settled, we had to move multiple times for droves of people getting drinks. The spot was a hub, and we were in the way.

We didn't care, though, because we needed a surface to do shots. We landed in that area after realizing the party was so full, that it would be impossible to enjoy it sober. Lily's sorority sister Sarah brought a bottle of cheap tequila, so we went to work.

Lily tapped my shoulder, knocking me out of my own little world, and pointed her finger in the direction of what I could only assume was the bathroom while saying something I couldn't make out over the buzz of the room. 

She and Sarah disappeared into the throngs of people. I turned back to the counter and poured another shot, took it, and then mixed yet another shot with soda. I swirled the liquid in my cup with my finger and departed from our spot. I knew Lily was not likely to return. I was sure she didn't care anymore. She was too faded already.

I relocated to what I guessed was the living room. There were couches occupied with individuals drinking and making out, and there was a TV in the corner with music coming from it. I winced each time someone got too close to the expensive electronic device, fearing it may tipple over from the actions of one too-drunk person. A free spot on the wall opened up, so I made a beeline for it. 

Leaning against the wall, I pulled out my phone. I saw a few notifications, including a text from Kyle. Where are you? it read. I lifted my head and scanned the room, looking for the one person I wanted to see most.

As if on cue, I locked eyes with the most enchanting pair of brown eyes. A familiar sight, as of late. His lips curled into a soft smile. I mustered one back. I was actually so flustered, which caught me by surprise.

At that moment, I took stock of my appearance, suddenly all too sure I looked bad. Possibly the worst I'd ever looked. It was busy, I was drunk, and I turned red when I was hot and drunk. It simply wasn't fair that I was in the presence of him. He looked stunning. His blonde hair was slightly messier than usual. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt with loose-fitting jeans. His skin had a glow, while mine was covered in sweat.

I stood, transfixed on him, disgusted with myself for feeling inferior, for even a moment, to Kyle Spencer. The internal war waged on.

"Hey," he started.

I couldn't help but giggle. "Hi," I breathed.

He stooped down, putting his mouth right on my ear. "I don't think we've met," he whispered. His breath hit my skin, causing goosebumps to cover my skin in an instant. He stood straight again and smiled at me.

"No, I'm sure we haven't," I replied with a wink, laughing at his advance. 

"You look so good," he shouted, loud enough so I could hear it over "m.A.A.d city" by Kendrick Lamar. I blushed.

"So do you," I returned. I lifted my hand to touch him, then stopped, rethinking my decision. He noticed and laughed.

"You know, it's really loud in here..." he smirked, his left hand reaching back to scratch the back of his head. He looked around slyly as if to say, Let's go somewhere more private.

He stuck out his right hand and motioned for me to grab it. I shoved my phone into my jean jacket's pocket and switched the hand my drink was in. Then, I grabbed his palm with a sly smile and began to follow him.

The crowd seemed to part for him. Typical Kyle Spencer shit. He led me through the sea of people further back into the house. Down a small hallway was a set of stairs. There were bodies on the stairs, all engaged in various...activities. Kyle led me upward, dodging couples as we went.  Once we were upstairs we traversed down the hall, stopping at the second door on the left. It was an unoccupied bathroom. 

"Now, where were we?" he asked, beaming his 5-star smile once again. 

I wasted no time, grabbing his face and kissing him passionately, sickeningly hungry for his touch. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing tightly. We both breathed heavily, huffing into each other's mouths between kisses. I pulled at his shirt, he took a handful of my hair.

Our kisses got deeper, and the space between us disappeared. We became one. I heard the doorknob turn behind us, then, I heard the door swing open. I didn't even have a second to turn my head before I heard him.

"Holy shit, Kyle," Archie laughed. Both of us scrambled apart, turning to see Archie Brener occupying the doorway. "Kyle Spencer, you dog."

"Archie, stop," Kyle warned, in a tone I didn't expect. It was less shocked, less caught-in-the-act than I expected. It was more of a knowing tone. He didn't seem at all embarrassed.

"At a party? Dang, do you actually like her, or something?" the obnoxiously drunk frat guy asked. "I guess I owe you when we get back home." He slurred his words, but I heard him loud and clear. 

"Owe?" I asked, voice small, glancing at both of them. The panic in my body paralyzed me.

"Please, not here-" Kyle began, interrupted swiftly by Archie.

"You work quick," he announced. "The way you were on her was so convincing. You won the bet, dude."

The room went silent. All of the air left, sucked up by the vacuous words that had just left his lips. I glanced over at Kyle, whose head was down, gaze firmly locked on his shoes. I couldn't breathe. My lip trembled slightly, tears threatening behind my eyes.

"What bet?" I mustered, voice cracking, my eyes fixed firmly on Kyle, who hadn't moved a muscle in what felt like hours.

"Kyle and I-" Archie started from the doorway.

"No," I interrupted, shooting a look over at him before returning my stare to Kyle, "I want him to tell me."

Archie shifted his weight uncomfortably before taking a step back, further away from the bathroom. I could hear him walk away as I surveyed the boy I thought I knew just seconds prior. The boy whose silence took up so much space, it had no choice but to enter my chest, wrapping around my heart, squeezing it so tightly I thought I would die.

"Hannah," he croaked, eyes still trained on the floor.

"Kyle," I returned.

He turned to face me, his brows knitted, eyes glazed. "He was just being stupid," he murmured.

"Why don't I believe that?" I replied, voicelessly, tears holding any sound hostage. "Tell me the truth."

"I- I just," he stammered.

"Tell me the truth," demanded, finally producing some noise.

He rubbed his face with both of his hands and dropped them down heavily to his sides. "It was a bet...a bet between Archie and me," he muttered, "a-about you and, and uh, Lily."

A tight knot formed in my stomach. It lurched as if the roller coaster I was on took me on a steep drop. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes.

"It was, it was that night at TKE. When you, uh, got defensive about Lily," he continued quietly. "We made a bet to see which one of us could, uh, date one of you, um, first."

"Why?" My voice shook. He shook his head, letting a few tears slip down his cheeks. The show of emotion disgusted me. 

I turned on my heel and rushed out of the room storming down the stairs and through the party. It was unavoidable. I crashed into a few unfortunate party-goers as I tried to leave as quickly as I could. The room blurred, lights and colors becoming a twisted amalgamation of each other, like the messiest, most awful watercolor painting in the world. 

The cool air of September nighttime was as welcome as a warm embrace in a snowstorm. The fresh air filled my lungs in stark contrast to the stifling air inside the house. I walked as fast as I could for as far as I could, traveling as far from the party as I could. I needed to get away so no one could see me break down.

I got down the street and turned the corner before collapsing in a heap on the sidewalk. I sobbed loudly into the sleeve of my jacket, not even stopping to take a breath.

Given his history, I should have known better. Part of me resisted falling for him, and I kicked myself for not listening to it. The part of my brain that was screaming for me to run, begging me to be rational, pleading for me to stick to my frat-hating guns. I was sick to my stomach with anger and sadness and the most unforgivable feeling of betrayal.

"Hannah!" I heard, alongside running footsteps. It was the last voice I wanted to hear. I looked up and saw Kyle jogging toward me.

I don't know what came over me. I stood immediately and rounded on him as he came upon me. "What? You're here to add insult to injury?" I shouted. "What are you going to say, huh?"

"That I-"

"What, that you really liked me?" I laughed, darkly. "You are a sick person, you know that?"

His expression changed, switching from concern to shame.

"You and your fucking brothers have a fetish for making people like me look dumb. You insist upon trying to paint me as a fool," I cried. "Since I started here, people like you called me a lesbian, or a hard-ass or made me feel bad for not being able to take a joke. Well, guess what? You're not fucking funny. None of you are! You're just fucking mean. You're evil."

"Hannah," he muttered despair in his expression. He stepped toward me.

"No. Get the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck away from me," I warned. "I'm not your friend. I never was. I don't want to see you again."

Previous Part | Next Part

[elfryn]

Anonymous Commission Title: A Piece of You. Word count: 3859. Request: Hinata being fucked by two Kumo ninjas. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cheating, masturbation, multiple orgasms, oral sex, anal sex, p-in-v sex, double penetration. Commissions info here!

Kuma is drunk. Not drunk enough to fall over or start puking, but drunk enough for his vision to get a little blurry and his head to get dizzy and for that little voice in the back of his mind that keeps him from doing anything stupid to shut up for a while. He's inebriated just enough to feel good and enjoy the atmosphere, even if the atmosphere is a crowded, noisy bar smelling of cheap alcohol and perspiration. Kuma laughs loudly and calls out for another drink. It's the first time in weeks that he can afford to drink without worrying about a hangover the next day. His mission is over, and he's back in his home village, and he will get a week off as a reward for a job well done. His team-mate, Shin, is already on his fifth bottle of sake, ready to finish another. Kuma is loose and free. He has no outstanding obligations, no emergencies around the corner, not a worry in the world, and if he did, he wouldn't care about any of them at the moment.

All that matters to Kuma is getting his fill and finding someone to spend the night with.

On the other side of the pub, sitting alone on one of the stools by the bar is a woman with hair as blue as the night and a shapely bottom so big it won't even fit on the seat. Kuma watches her from afar. The glasses scattered around her indicate that she's been there for a while. The barman brings her another drink, and she throws her head back and swallows it all in one go. Her tits, fat and plump, sway with the movement. Some of the drink drips down the corner of her mouth, making its way down her neck, and disappearing into the valley of her breasts.

Kuma elbows Shin, drawing his friend's attention back to the woman. Shin whistles, understanding perfectly how Kuma feels.

Without wasting any time, they call for a hostess and send the woman a drink. When the drink arrives, the mysterious, bulky woman searches them with her eyes as the waitress explains the situation. She stares at them for a long moment before nodding and raising her drink towards them before swallowing it down. They both mirror her actions. A short while later, the three of them are sitting side by side, laughing and drinking.

The woman, Hinata, tells them that she is a Konoha kunoichi on an official mission and that by morning she will be on her way back home. Where her children and husband are waiting for her. In all honesty, Kuma would admit that the information about her being married was a bit of a cold shower, but then she started talking about her husband and Kuma saw a glimmer of hope. Hinata is the kind of honest drunk, Kuma can see. The kind who says everything she can't say when she's sober to avoid fatigue and a headache. She's a tired wife, with a husband who only knows how to work and hasn't fulfilled his marital duties for far too long. Hinata is a mother who loves her children but needs a break from them because she is the only one and there are two of them. She's also an unappreciated ninja, who has to listen to bullshit from the people she works with because she's decided to only take really important jobs since she can't spend so much time away from home. For Kuma, Hinata is, above all, a woman who deserves to be treated well and appreciated and to have someone look after her from time to time. Which is perfect, because he's more than willing to look after her.

The thing about Hinata, Kuma soon realises, is that she's a good and decent person. She is a good wife who would probably never think of cheating on her husband, no matter how flawed he may be. Kuma wants to give her a break, he wants to make her feel good. He wants to make her scream his name and beg for more, make her have to postpone her journey home because she won't be able to walk properly in the morning. But Hinata doesn't seem interested in that, or perhaps, she doesn't even know that's an option. To Hinata, Kuma and Shin are just two kind strangers willing to buy her a drink and listen to her rant about her life. Shin doesn't mind just listening, Kuma knows his friend and knows that he likes to hear about other people's lives. Shin is single and lives alone, so he doesn't have much going on in his life. Any distraction is a good distraction, Shin once said. Kuma doesn't care much either, he has done it many times and will do it many more times in the future. However, Hinata is different. Kuma can't stop imagining what it would be like to take her by surprise, to make her fall to her knees in front of him, to have her on all fours waiting for him. Kuma wants Hinata in a way he's never wanted anyone before. But he won't force her. Kuma would never forgive himself if he did.

The three of them drink and drink and close the pub. Dissatisfied with the evening ending like this, they decide to go somewhere else. Shin's flat is the nearest, and he has some beer at home. Hinata climbs the stairs leaning on Shin, who in turn is leaning on Kuma who is leaning on the stair railing. Neither of them remembers how to walk in a straight line.

Hinata collapses on the sofa. Smiling and at ease, without a single worry in the world. Shin fetches his drink from the kitchen, stumbling on the way. Kuma sits next to Hinata. He watches her. Her luscious boobs swaying as she breathes, her big arse taking up two cushions at once. Her clothes are short and tight, and Kuma can see her panties. She's so hot, Kuma wants to have her.

Kuma doesn't realise what he's doing, doesn't notice how his hand slips inside his trousers or how he squeezes his already hard cock. He isn't even aware of how his breathing is starting to fail and his body is going tight or how he's almost there. Kuma only grasps what's happening when he notices Hinata's gaze on his trousers. When he looks away from her for the first time in a long time, he notices that his fly is open and his cock is sticking out hard and begging him to continue.

"I'm sorry," he says somewhat self-consciously. He usually has more self-control. Under normal circumstances, he'd go to the bathroom or wait until he got home. Or he'd ask first before doing it in front of another person. Kuma swallows dryly, certain that he has spoiled the evening, and ruined any chance he had with Hinata. He's sure she'll scream and slap him and run out the door.

Yet Hinata does no such thing. She stirs on the sofa and Kuma notices something else that has gone completely unnoticed by his mind. The hem of Hinata's skirt is up, her underwear is pulled to the side and Hinata's fingers are working frantically as her breathing becomes shallower and shallower. Out of the corner of his eye, Kuma notices Shin standing at the kitchen door, no beer in sight and his hands working rapidly on his arousal. Hinata and Shin's loud moans fill the small flat. Kuma feels hot and burning, his throbbing erection begging him to finish what he started. And so he does. Kuma grabs his cock and with firm, strong movements continue to masturbate, his panting moans loud, mingling with those of the other two. But Hinata's cries are louder, more pleasurable. Hinata is outrageous. With a cacophony, the three of them climax at the same time.

Kuma lies back on the sofa, catching his breath. Shin slides down the wall to the floor and hides his face between his legs, as tired as he is. Hinata lets her body sink into the sofa. Her skirt was still up, her thighs dirty and sticky. She gasps, her breasts rising and falling. Her forehead is sweaty, her hair sticky.

"I want to fuck you." Kuma is honest and direct. He wants to know what it's like to go down on her, and what her screams are like when someone else makes her scream. Kuma wants to know if she's as tight and delicious as she looks. "I want to fuck you, I want to make you scream, I want to give you pleasure. I want to feel pleasure. You can deny it and walk away, I won't stop you." He lays his cards on the table.

Hinata stares at him, but answers. She won't leave either, and that's all the permission Kuma needs.

Kuma moves from his place on the sofa and kneels in front of her. Without hesitation, he spreads her legs and pulls down her wet, honeyed underwear. Kuma inhales the scent of Hinata impregnated in the item of clothing. He gropes her, running his hands up and down her broad, thick thighs. He runs his tongue through the remnants of her cum, savouring the taste of her. Hinata shudders under his touch. Kuma goes to her centre, running his tongue along Hinata's slit. Her taste is strongest there. With gentle movements, he makes her shiver at his kiss. Penetrating her lightly with his tongue, he makes her moan. Kuma likes to think of himself as a good shinobi, someone who knows how to pay attention to detail and who does his job practically and meticulously, always aiming for the best result. He also applies his work habits to his personal life, which doesn't always work out, but sometimes the result is better than he expects. Like now, when he takes the time to explore every corner of Hinata's intimacy with his tongue and feels how her body twitches in pleasure. Kuma focuses his mouth on her clitoris, sucking on it like a popsicle about to melt in the summer heat. Her moan is muffled. He lifts his gaze to Hinata and realises why. Her mouth is occupied with Shin's dick.

Kuma is envious. He can see how skilful Hinata is. How she uses her hands to massage his balls and the tip of her tongue to play with the tip of his cock as she makes him moan louder and louder. Kuma wants her mouth on his dick too. He intensifies his work, venting his envy and frustration at not being in Shin's place. Kuma inserts two fingers inside her, making her squeal louder. Not even his friend's cock in her mouth can silence her moans. That makes him happy. Stroking her hard, he continues to suck her clitoris, nibbling and licking to cause different reactions. Her cries get louder and her whole body reacts as she comes in his mouth. Hinata's nectar tastes much better straight from the source. Kuma swallows every drop of it.

He sits on the floor, leaning on his hands. Kuma watches as Hinata works on Shin. His screams are as intense as her seconds ago. When Shin cums, Hinata doesn't miss a drop.

Kuma sits still, facing Hinata for a while. The sight of her is perfect. Sweaty, messy, dirty with cum. Her tits are sticking out of her blouse, her nipples hard. Kuma seeks Shin out with his eyes, his friend is in a deplorable state. His trousers are down around his ankles, his cum-soaked briefs are stuck to his knees, his hair is stuck to his forehead, and his shirt is soaked with sweat. His cock sprung free, throbbing and begging for more. Shin returns Kuma's gaze, smiling in a way that tells Kuma that he's not much better off than his friend either. They hold each other's gaze for a long second. Kuma laughs back.

Turning to Hinata, Kuma pushes her back against the sofa. He kneels on the couch, putting his legs on either side of her, restraining her. Kuma kisses her. It's something hungry, and needy. He invades her mouth with his tongue. Biting her lips, he makes her moan against his mouth. Kuma uses his hands to grope her breasts, massaging them. He pinches her hard nipples, drawing a delicious reaction from her. Hinata grabs his waist, pulling him to her. Making him sit on her lap, his penis rubbing against her belly. The friction makes him harder. Kuma hears footsteps rushing through the house, something falling in the distance, and Shin lets out a swear word. He doesn't care about any of it. He's too busy sucking on one of Hinata's tits to care about any of it.

Kuma thinks of nothing but Hinata's moans or how her skin is as velvety smooth beneath his touch. He feels Hinata's hands leave his waist and work their way down to his penis. She takes his dick in both hands and squeezes it, making him grunt. Pleased, Hinata smiles. Using long, prolonged strokes, she stimulates him. Kuma feels his breathing start to falter again, but he doesn't stop. He continues his work on Hinata's breasts. Sucking and massaging her. He can feel another orgasm coming on. But it doesn't come, because Shin interrupts them.

Kuma wants to kill Shin. But he changes his mind when he realises why there is so much noise in the bedroom. Without moving, Kuma takes a condom from his friend's hand and puts it on. He slips it under Hinata's skirt. She screams in such a delicious way that it makes his cock ache. Hinata is as tight as Kuma imagined. He can imagine the damage his cock will do to her pussy. Hinata rocks underneath him, doing the work for both of them because Kuma chooses such a bad position. But he wouldn't trade the sight of Hinata all rumpled and dishevelled underneath him for anything. She looks like a fucking whore, with her tits out and her eyes begging for his cock. Kuma steadies his body on his knees and uses his arms to support himself on the back of the sofa. Following the rhythm of Hinata's hips, he thrusts hard into her. Hinata moans and howls and screams. She's a fucking show-off. Hinata runs her hands down his neck, pulling him closer and taking his mouth. Between wet kisses and rhythmic rocking and heavy thrusting, they moan and scream and howl. Kuma and Hinata reach their climax again.

Kuma lets his body relax, his heart returns to normal. He allows his lungs to remember how to work. Kuma collapses on the sofa next to Hinata. Tired. He disposes of the condom by throwing it on the floor, this is a problem for the Shin of the future to deal with. Kuma watches his friend pull Hinata off. He sees how Shin goes to the trouble of undressing her. Shin positions Hinata leaning over against the edge of the sofa, her plump ass sticking out and her voluminous breasts sprawled on the cushions.

Shin is a rash guy with no patience. He always does what's best for him, regardless of whether it inconveniences anyone else. But occasionally he has lapses of empathy. Where he thinks about what's best for someone else and not for himself. When Shin inserts his fingers inside Hinata first, to get her tight, pink hole used to it, instead of just thrusting into her, Kuma knows that this is one of the rare moments when Shin seeks someone else's satisfaction before his own.

Hinata moans at Shin's stroke. She thrusts her bum out, begging for more. He puts in another finger and then another. Using all three fingers, he makes simple back-and-forth movements. Kuma observes how Hinata is sprawled on the sofa, supporting her body with her elbows. One of her tits is leaking out, as big as it is. Shin slaps her bottom, her flesh bouncing. Hinata lets out a sound of surprise. She's adorable.

Kuma repositions himself on the sofa, leaving his member in her face. He lets his cock slap against her face. She moistens her lips, eager. Kuma does not waste any time, he wants to feel the same pleasure as his friend. He fucks her mouth with pleasure. Her lips are soft, her tongue is smooth to the touch, her saliva is warm and her teeth brush slowly against his length, sending shivers through his body. Hinata licks him, sliding her tongue from the tip to the root. She cries out against his cock and Kuma sees that Shin is fully inside her. His friend thrusts into her as if he had never fucked anyone in his life, pulling her towards him. Hinata is swept away from Kuma's cock. Disgruntled, Kuma grabs Hinata by the neck, pulling her towards him. He shoves his entire member into her mouth, making her choke. Shin and Kuma engage in a tug-of-war with Hinata, each pulling her towards him. Hinata doesn't seem to care if her moans are any indication. She engulfs Kuma's balls, sucking on them. He feels waves of pleasure.

She plays with his length, working with her hands and mouth in a coordination that must have taken her years to perfect. The moans she lets out against his member as Shin eats her from behind make the experience even better.

The screams of the three of them get louder, the neighbours must probably have noticed what they're doing. The thought makes Kuma hornier. He wants to cum again, but he has already seen what Hinata is like when she swallows everything. Now he wants to know what she's like when she gets dirty. Kuma pulls away. Hinata whimpers. She is so fucking hot doing it. Using his hands, he works quickly. His loud wails mingle with Shin's, showing that they've both come at the same time. Shin inside Hinata, Kuma on her face. Hinata is so perfect when she is nasty.

All three of them are worn out. The flat is hot, stinking of cum and sweat. But they haven't finished yet. Kuma exchanges a look with Shin, who smiles as if reading his mind. Kuma vacates the sofa, he pulls Hinata with him. Kuma knows Shin's flat off the top of his head, so he has no problem finding his way to his friend's room. He throws Hinata onto the bed, and she falls on her back. Hinata looks him up and down, she bites her lip and tilts her head. Her eyes beg for more, her expression dares him to try and deny what she wants. Extremely conscious of every piece of clothing he's wearing, Kuma discards his sweat-soaked shirt and semen-stained trousers. Using his hands he asks her to climb further onto the bed. Hinata is quick to fulfil his request. Kuma gets on the bed with her. Hinata is underneath him, so ready. She is hungry for more, for someone to lie on top of her, to have someone else's body crash into hers, to be fucked again. And that's what Kuma is going to do.

Using one hand and all the strength he had acquired in years of training, Kuma turned her over on the bed. Ever since he saw her in the pub, all Kuma could think about was how good it would feel to fuck her big, fat bottom. How it would feel to have her riding his cock. Kuma pulls Hinata onto his lap. With the protection in place and the lube ready, Kuma fucks Hinata. Her scream is like a song Kuma never thought he needed to hear, but he doesn't know how he lived so many years without it. Thanks to Shin, Hinata is already hot and eager for him, so Kuma doesn't have to be careful. Hinata rolls onto his cock, riding him as if competing for first place in a mounted contest. Kuma rests his forehead against her bare, sweaty back. He lets his hands roam her body, making their way to Hinata's breasts. Kuma plays with her breasts, giving the woman even more pleasure.

He knows that Shin is watching everything. He knows that his friend is hard, with a new lubricated condom in place and ready to fuck her again. But Kuma won't budge, he won't give up Hinata's asshole. Except he doesn't have to, because Kuma and Shin are best friends and best friends share everything. Even the sluts they've picked up in the pub.

Together, like the good team-mates they are, Kuma and Shin fuck Hinata together. Kuma had to give up having Hinata riding his cock for this to happen, but the way her screams become louder and more intelligible makes it all worthwhile. Shin is lying down. Hinata is on top of him, leaning on her arms. Kuma is behind Hinata, holding her tight around the waist, moving inside her at the same pace she uses to pleasure his friend. Kuma understands why Shin slapped her. It's impossible to find yourself in that position, with her ass devouring his cock and the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room along with her moans, and not feel an insatiable urge to slam into that big, fat, luscious arse. He squeezes her plump cheeks, his cock disappearing completely between them. Hinata is so hot, that every part of her makes Kuma want to bite her and mark her. He continues his work and continues to make her scream.

The three of them tangle with each other. Their cries, their bodies, their fluids. Nothing is individual anymore, nothing is singular. The pleasure is on a level that none of them has ever felt before. On a level, they fear they will never feel again. They moan in the night, screaming profanities, grunting and howling. There is no logic, no reason. There is only the carnal desire that keeps their bodies moving despite their tiredness. Kuma comes first, it's a full-body orgasm that robs him of the rest of his strength, but he can't stop. Because the others haven't stopped yet. So he continues. Every atom of him is begging him to stop, but he keeps going. Shin comes in second. His final moan is loud and vulgar, like everything else he does. But Shin doesn't stop either. They both continue, waiting for Hinata. They can't be satisfied if she doesn't feel the same pleasure as them. So the two continue. Their bodies cry for mercy. But they continue. Time passes differently when you're tired, when your body is heavy and rigid and all you want to do is collapse. Time drags on and tortures you and a second lasts an eternity. However, the moment Hinata's moan cuts through the air and she lets her body give in, falling on top of Shin and breathing heavily against his neck, Kuma feels a satisfaction he has never felt in his life.

Kuma is so, so happy that he let his best friend drag him out to drink today. He is even more happy for Hinata's husband, he has a really hot and delicious wife.

[mumms-the-word]

Reunited, Part 2

Day 15 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

I'm behind on fics so I wrote three in a REAL hurry and posted them all on the same day. Can you tell? Maybe you can't tell (but you probably can)

Ignore the fact that Dani is hugging Halsin here, we're pretending she's hugging Brann, who is like her foster/adopted dad.

Check out my masterlist of BG3 Fics!

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15. Any character is drunk/high

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“Here’s a health to my company, and one to my lads,” Dani sang, lifting her mug high. She stood with one foot planted in her chair at their shared table in the Blushing Mermaid, about three or four drinks deep by the time she’d burst into song (not for the first time). “Let us drink and be merry, all out of one glass! Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain, for we may or might never all meet here again.”

She tipped her head back to gulp down the rest of her ale, the burn pleasant as it traveled down her throat and settled, warm, in her belly. Around the table, Karlach and Wyll had joined her song, toasting her as she sang, and they drank with her. Gale and Shadowheart merely shook their heads, amused, as their took sips of their wine. Astarion had long since disappeared and the others had remained at camp.

Spoilsports, Dani thought cheerfully as she reached across the table to top off her mug with whatever was left in the bottles there. They’d just killed a hag, and freed a child from her gullet (gross), and saved Captain Grisly, and a few other feats besides. Captain Grisly had basically offered them several rounds on the house as a reward and a room in the ‘Maid any time they needed it. 

Mug full, she draped her self across Gale’s lap, holding onto his shoulders with one hand, grateful of his arm around her as he attempted to keep her steady. “Here’s a health to my dear lad that I love so well,” she sang, grinning as his face seemed to warm and grow ruddy under her theatric performance. She shifted the words slightly on the fly, hoping to tease him further. “For his style and his beauty, sure none can excel. There’s a smile on his countenance as I sit on his knee, there’s no man in this wide world as happy as he!”

“Dani,” Gale murmured, still looking quite pink, but Dani laughed and clinked her mug with his glass and took another gulp. Gale kept a hold of her as she tipped back, draining every last drop before righting herself and slamming her mug against the table.

“Enough!” she exclaimed. Her head was starting to spin. She held onto Gale for steadiness, pressing the palm of one hand to her forehead, trying to force a bit of soberness into her skull. How many drinks had it been? Karlach had asked her to sing and she’d said she needed two more drinks in her before she sang in public, so Karlach had brought over several more bottles. It was all over from there.

The ‘Maid was twice as rowdy as usual, though, so Dani’s voice was just one of many in the room randomly bursting into song. Grisly had made the hag’s death a celebration, throwing open the doors and enticing as many patrons inside as she could. The poor barman could barely keep up.

“Something tells me you’ve had enough, my dear,” Gale murmured, brushing a kiss against her cheek. 

“Normally I’d disagree but…” She lowered her hand to peer at him, and then got distracted immediately by how close he was. Hells, but he was gorgeous, wasn’t he? Those deep, brown eyes and his rich, soft hair. She couldn’t help but sink her fingers into his hair as she cradled his cheek. “You’re very pretty, you know that?”

"Am I?" he asked, laughing slightly. "I dare say you're the prettier one between the two of us."

"Nooo, nope, I disagree," Dani said, tapping his nose. "I do disagree with that one."

Wyll chuckled. "Ah, young love. Always a little more public when you've had a few drinks.

“Don’t worry, Gale,” Shadowheart said, smirking from across the table. “She’s a little sloshed, but that’s nothing a little restoration spell won’t cure.”

“Aww, let her go a bit longer,” Karlach said. “She’s fine. Look at her!”

Dani giggled and guided Gale’s face down to hers for a kiss. A kiss that she would have deepened and probably taken to dangerous levels had her stomach not suddenly rebelled. She grimaced and pulled back.

“On second thoughts,” she said, untangling herself from Gale’s arms and his lap. “Lesser restoration sounds…”

She trailed off, a sound of an instrument catching her ear, distant and faint, but the refrain instantly familiar. She knew that song. She knew every note of that song. Her heart began to pound in her ears, obscuring the sound. It—it couldn’t be, could it?

“Dani?” Wyll asked.

She turned to Shadowheart. “Quick. Lesser restoration, on me. Please.”

Shadowheart looked surprised, but she cast it. Dani felt the healing magic settle over her like a light frost, instantly sobering her. She shivered and then patted her cheeks, hoping to sober up even quicker.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Dani?” Gale started to stand from his chair but Dani didn’t respond, dashing for the front doors of the Blushing Mermaid.

Surely the music she’d heard wasn’t a drunken hallucination…

There! She heard it again. A lute and a flute, playing—yes! The Rovers’ first song of their set! She gasped and turned down the alley on one side of the ‘Maid, following the music. They had to be somewhere near the back door, practicing. She recalled in an instant all the old habits of the Rovers. Tune up the instruments outside while Brann went in and negotiated the time and pay. Wait for Brann to come back, hopefully with good news. Set up on stage and play through their set. Hope they had a bed at night when all was said and done.

She turned a corner in the alley, looking this way and that, her eyes on the hunt for a young blonde woman and a half-elf man with nut-brown hair, hopefully—gods she hoped—with an older man and a dragonborn nearby. 

“Come on, come on,” she whispered to herself. “Where—“

She cut herself off with another gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as she found them. There. Not a trick of the light. But actually there, in front of her, flute and lute in hands, playing a few bars of a song. Liara and Kellen, their bags at their feet, looking none the worse for wear than when she saw them months ago.

She couldn’t find her voice to call out to them, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Liara lifted her head just in time to see her, too. She stopped strumming with a jolt, her pretty face paling, her eyes flying wide. She covered her mouth with her hands, her shoulders heaving, and then suddenly—she screamed, sharp and piercing. She dropped to her knees, hands back over her mouth. Kellen could only stand there in shock, looking back and forth between the two girls.

Dani’s voice unstuck. “Lee! K!” 

She ran over to them, nearly tripping over them both as Kellen helped Liara unsteadily to her feet, setting the instruments aside. Liara snatched Dani up into a hug immediately, her hands digging into her back as she held her tight.

“Dani!” she sobbed. “Oh my gods, oh my gods, Dani. I’m—I’m not dreaming, am I? Oh my gods!”

“No, you’re not dreaming, Lee,” Dani said, rocking her back in forth and never letting go. “I’m as real as they come. I swear.”

Liara pulled away and took hold of Dani’s shirt, giving her a little shake. “Gods damn you, Dani, do you have any idea how scared I’ve been? Where the hells were you? Why didn’t you write? What the hells—“

“Lee—“

“Lee, give her some room to breathe,” Kellen said, setting a hand on Liara’s shoulder. Liara seemed to struggle to calm her self but she swallowed and nodded, letting go of Dani’s shirt but taking her hand instead, holding it tightly. He looked at Dani, relieved. “It’s good to see you again, Dani. We’ve been so worried. Lee and Brann especially.”

“I know,” Dani said. “I'm sorry. I’ve been worried about you guys, too. Trust me, if I could have sent a message, I would have. I would have tried everything I could to get word to you and my mum.”

“Where’ve you been?” Liara asked. She leaned back slightly to give Dani a full once-over, looking a little amazed. “Is it just me or do you look…”

“Don’t say it, whatever it is,” Dani said, shaking her head and holding up her hands. “Good or bad, I don’t want to know. And it’s a long, long story. ” She looked around, up and down the alley. “Where’s Brann?”

“Inside, trying to get us a gig,” Kellen said. “He should be—“

“Liara! What in the hells do you think you’re doing, screaming like—“

The three of them turned as Brann stormed out of the back door, expression thunderous, only to stop short. In very nearly the same moment, Dani saw her friends come running around the ‘Maid, stopping just at the start of the alley. But Dani couldn’t pay them much attention. Not when Brann was looking at her like she was a ghost.

He stood frozen in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, his blue-gray eyes staring. All color had drained away from his face and he swallowed several times, not saying a word. 

“Hey boss,” Dani said, smiling uncertainly, using her old nickname for him, back when she’d first joined the Rovers at fifteen. She suddenly felt unsure of how he would react to seeing her. Would he scold her? Take it in stride? Would he cross his arms and say nothing? She didn’t know what to expect, and he was giving her no clues.

“I’m…it’s…” She swallowed too, suddenly finding words difficult. She shrugged as the first threat of tears started to prick her eyes, made worse by his continuing silence. “I’m back,” she said helplessly.

He continued to stare as if his eyes were deceiving him. Liara and Kellen kept quiet, their faces tight with anxious watching. Brann took a heavy step forward, and then another, reaching out a hand. His fingers seemed to tremble slightly before his hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

Then something in him seemed to break. She saw his face twist, felt his fingers grip into her shoulder, before he pulled her roughly into a hug. Her ribs threatened to creak under the strength of his hug, but she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him too, burying her face in his worn shirt.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just seemed to breathe a little harder at first, a little erratically, and it took her a moment to register that he was holding back tears of his own. She heard him sniff and clear his throat a few times before he managed to rasp out, “Welcome home, Dani girl.”

That did her in for good. She clutched him tighter and shook with her tears, not quite sobbing, but not far off. She thought she had gotten most of her grief out when she’d reunited with her mother, but she realized now that seeing her mother again had only healed part of her broken spirit, which she hadn’t even realized was broken until she’d set foot back in Baldur’s Gate. Brann, Liara, and Kellen, they held other parts of her, other pieces that needed to be put back together. She wasn’t whole until she saw them again. And there was still one piece missing. Paraxxel, wherever he was. 

Still. Holding onto Brann, crying like a baby into his shoulder, with Liara and Kellen patting her back and holding one of her hands…she felt a little more put-back-together than before. She loved her new family—all her companions, the tiefling refugees, Gale, who was something more than family—but this was the family that raised her, shaped her, molded her, made her who she was. Brann was as good as a father—better than a father. And gods, had she missed him fiercely. 

The Rovers finally untangled themselves from the weepy, sniffling huddle that they’d become, wiping their eyes and noses, laughing a little at each others’ red eyes. Dani shook her head, a little in awe that she’d finally found them at last.

“I can’t believe you’re in Lower City,” she said. “Mum said you were looking all over Outer City for me and Axxel.”

“We have been,” Liara said. “Every single day. But no one knew anything in the Outer City.”

“Eventually we heard that there’d been some kind of commotion at Wyrm’s Rock,” Kellen said. “Word on the street is that there are armies on the march. We thought it best to move into the Lower City to do our search there.”

“We even thought about using some money to put in a notice in the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette,” Liara said.

“Fat lot of good that would have done,” Brann said. “Needle’s a bastard on a good day, and he doesn’t have many good days.”

“But then we saw your name in the paper!” Liara said. “A whole article about how you and a bunch of other adventurers defeated the general at the head of the army. General, oh what was it, K?”

“General Thorm,” he said. He looked uncertainly at Dani. “That…wasn’t true, was it?”

Dani laughed. “Well…” She shrugged, not offering a clear answer, but the three of them knew her well enough to glean what they needed out of it. They looked at her with a renewed sort of awe, Liara especially.

“Dani,” she breathed, taking her hand again. “Gods, you’re a hero now. Like in all the songs.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dani said, shaking her head. “I mean, I wrote that article, sure, and most of it is true. Some of it is embellished. But come on, you know me. I’m hardly a hero.”

“I think your friends would beg to differ,” Brann said, looking beyond her down the alley. Dani turned to see her four drinking companions, Gale, Karlach, Wyll, and Shadowheart, finally approaching from the start of the alleyway. Brann looked down at Dani, then, his face for a brief moment warm and proud. “It sounds like you’ve been busy while you’ve been away.”

“‘Busy’ isn’t the start of it,” Dani said. Keeping a hold of Liara’s hand, she took one of Brann’s hands and gave it a squeeze. “We have a lot to catch up on. Come on, meet my friends. Let’s all have a few drinks and just talk. And don’t worry about finding a room for the night. I’ve got that covered.”

She smiled at all of them, her Merry Rovers, though they were still missing one person. “Let me take care of you guys, for once.”

They gave in readily and soon Dani was fielding introductions between her friends and her family, leading them all back inside for food and more drinks. She laughed as Liara took an immediate interest in Gale when Dani introduced him as, “Gale, my love,” and proceeded to pepper him with questions under the guise of deciding whether he was “worthy” of Dani or not. Brann seemed wary of Gale at first but when Dani quietly asked him what he thought, later, he only shook his head and said that Gale was a good man. Which, coming from Brann, was high praise, since it didn’t come with a single critique of his character or noncommittal shrug, which is what Dani had gotten in the past when she ventured to go out with guys in the past.

Kellen and Wyll became fast friends over a shared love of hero legends, especially stories about Balduran, while Shadowheart slipped out early to make it back to camp for some early shut-eye. Karlach seemed to love everyone, and everyone loved Karlach, which was no surprise to Dani. If Paraxxel were there, the two of them would probably have become immediate best friends. Dani could see a lot of what she loved about Paraxxel, in all his jittery drummer energy, his quick humor, his protective nature, in Karlach. If she weren’t in the middle of trying to get Dammon and Karlach to recognize how much they clearly liked each other, she would have been plotting to get Karlach and Paraxxel together.

They were all still looking for him, she realized, as the conversation inevitably turned to him. But he was harder to find. Dani told them of her theory that he must have been returned to Baldur’s Gate. It was likely that he was out there looking for them, and they were all just missing him by being constantly on the move. It didn’t take much convincing to ask the Rovers to keep looking for him while she handled matters in the city. She knew they would have done so without her asking anyway. Paraxxel was family, after all.

She just hoped that the Rovers, Paraxxel, and her mother, all of them, could stay out of trouble. She hoped that the mess that the Gortash and Orin seemed eager to make would never touch her loved ones.

Because, she thought to herself, watching as her old family bonded and befriended her new family, these were the people she loved. These people were home, just as much as Baldur’s Gate was. These people made up all the pieces that created Dani, each one of them carrying a small part of her when they left her side. When they were all together in one room, all her pieces were reunited, together, whole. When they were apart, they cared small pieces of her love along with them, so that she would always be with them, and they always with her. That's just how it was.

And so, she resolved her oath to herself, which she had made a dozen times over already since returning to the city. She wouldn’t rest until she knew that all of them were safe. Every last one of them, old family and new. 

[cinemagooey]

FEMME FILM

In Celebration of Women Filmmakers

Greta Gerwig as Francis Ha!

Remember when that thing happened called the pandemic?

HAHA! Jk...of course we do. We're still living in a mad, disjointed post-pandemic world, four years later. The pandemic pummeled humanity and just about everything else - Hollywood included.

Covid re-wrote the Hollywood playbook. Theater attendance stopped cold. At-home streaming became standard entertainment practice. The last movie I went to see at the theater before the virus invaded was a little-known 2019 horror flick called The Lodge. I don't remember much about the movie, but, looking back, I feel bittersweet about the experience. How was I to know that would be my last, innocent foray before society unraveled in a such way that going to the movies would never be the same?

So what's the connection between the pandemic and female filmmakers, you might ask? Well, just when the Hollywood studios were on their covid-masked knees begging for something to save the theater experience (and their financial lives), along came:

BARBENHEIMER!

Some say it was Top Gun Maverick/Tom Cruse that saved Hollywood after the virus, but I'm sticking to my pink atomic guns that it was the daring duo of Barbie/Oppenheimer.

WHAT A SUMMER! Those two films energized the movie-going experience like no other and Hollywood was as pumped as tween on Twizzlers and RedBulls.

Nolan's Oppenheimer is epic. It is historical. It is emotional. It is long. It is a history lesson about the annihilating evil that man created and that the world can (literally) be relegated to stardust with the push of a button. Applause, applause! Kudos, Christopher Nolan! Your Academy Awards and other trophies were well deserved!

But Barbie? Greta Gerwig's Barbie is communal. It brought people together for a joyous theatrical excursion. Groups gathered at theaters all over the world, dressed in pink, creating bubble-gum colored watch parties, drunk on the female power the film reminded us we have, and sobered at the admonition that the patriarchy is very real. It was also the highest grossing film of 2023, gracing Hollywood with a 1.4 billion box office gift. Applause, applause! Kudos, Greta Gerwig! Your Academy Awar...

Oh. Wait.

The Academy Awards didn't happen for Barbie, other than best song, which is nice, but...

And them's the brakes (and I do mean brakes as well as breaks) for women in Hollywood. The good old boy network rules in LALA land just like it does everywhere else (click here to see the factual, if not depressing, data).

In this post Cinemagooey raises it's fist in solidarity to women filmmakers everywhere, those heroes of feminine empowerment who buck patriarchal odds to bring their creative vision to life and share it with the world, come hell or highwater.

Highlighted below are just some of the women filmmakers who serve as shining stars and beacons of hope for other film warriors who are following in their path:

ELAINE MAY

Elaine May and Walter Matthau in A New Leaf (1971)

Elaine May is a gift to humanity. A true genius, she's been a Broadway star, film star, playwright, screenwriter and director in her long, illustrious career. If you want to introduce yourself to her prodigious talent, I recommend starting with A New Leaf, in which she performed the Hollywood trifecta: writing, directing and starring in this hilarious black comedy. Other writing/directing credits include: The Heartbreak Kid, Mike and Nickey, Heaven Can Wait, Reds, Tootsie, The Birdcage and, famously Ishtar, the film that effectively ended her movie career (here's a little link to that fascinating story). May boasts even more directorial and writing credits, but there's too many to list here. Look her up and prepare to be amazed.

I could go on and on about Elaine May, but I'll save it for a post dedicated exclusively to her and her shining accomplishments. She was one of the early greats who painstakingly forged a path for others in the field.

Today's women filmmakers stand on May's shoulders and owe her a debt of gratitude. Cinemagooey salutes this original, one of a kind bad ass.

With Charles Grodin, directing The Heartbreak Kid

Directing A New Leaf

Schmoozing with the big boys, circa 1980s

NANCY MEYERS

Nancy Meyers is the queen of the cozy romcom. When it comes to LOL-witty love stories that make us swoon, she slays. Meyers is renowned for directing comfy, side-splitting hits such as The Parent Trap (1998), Something's Gotta Give (2003), The Holiday (2006) and It's Complicated (2009), to name a few. She also wrote or co-wrote a number of smash hit screenplays, starting with my favorite, Private Benjamin (1980) but also crafting Irreconcilable Differences (1984), Baby Boom (1987) and the Father of the Bride franchise (1991, 1995 and 2020), just to name a few.

Directing Something's Gotta Give

Meyers is not only famous for her filmmaking acumen, her loyal Instagram fans are obsessed with the houses in her movies, homes that imbue a rich, intimate, put-your-feet-up-by-the-fire-and-let's-have-some-wine kind of coastal vibe. Follow her on Insta. You won't regret it. And watch her movies. You're welcome.

Above: Father of the Bride, starring this house

And the stunning beach home in Something's Gotta Give

PENNY MARSHALL

Penny Marshall Directing Big (1989)

Penny Marshall was a staple in my household in 1976 when she starred as Laverne DeFazio on the television sitcom Laverne and Shirley, about two working class gals sharing an apartment and comedic hijinks in Milwaukee. I loved that show. My sixth grade BFF and I conspired to live just such a life after high school (but with better jobs in a warmer climate). Life can upend the best of plans, howeve - that BFF and I never became Laverne and Shirley and when the show ended, Penny Marshall moved from comedic acting to cinematic directing - lucky for us.

Marshall directed a slew of hits in the 80's and 90s: Jumpin' Jack Flash, Big, Awakenings and The Preacher's Wife. But my all-time favorite is A League of Their Own, starring Geena Davis, Rosie O'Donnell, Madonna and Tom Hanks.

A League of Their Own (1992) (turn up the volume and watch this buddy moment between Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell)

The film is a Rosie-the-Riveter-meets-the-MLB story of the The All American Girls Professional Baseball League, an organization started during WWII when it was feared that men's baseball would die off as a casualty of war. The movie recounts an age when men marched off to the trenches and women were suddenly valued for more than their domestic talents, challenging patriarchal traditions and set-in-stone cultural beliefs. It's all heart and Madonna's moving "This Used To Be My Playground" theme song, as well as the reunion of the real life women who were in the league at the end of the film, poignantly encapsulate a brief, shining moment for women in sports.

Penny Marshall died in 2018. But her cinematic legacy and comedic versatility lives on in her extraordinary films, as well as the dozens of comedic roles she inhabited on t.v. (The Odd Couple, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Frasier, Portlandia and Hocus Pocus, to name but a few). It's well worth your time to dig into her films to appreciate this one of a kind female director.

Directing Tom Hanks in Big (1988)

Awakenings, starring Robin Williams (1990). Pass the kleenex

GRETA GERWIG

With Ben Stiller in Greenburg (2010)

Before Barbie and Lady Bird - two films that placed Greta Gerwig squarely on the Hollywood writing and directing map, she was the darling of a lesser known indie-film movement called Mumblecore. This cinematic genre peaked in the mid-aughts and is best described as movies with impromptu dialogue, realistic settings and low-budget markings. This is where Gerwig got her start in movies as an actress/sometimes screenwriter.

After mumbling her way through a myriad of films, Gerwig teamed up with her (now) real-life partner, Noah Baumbaugh and co-wrote and starred in a sweet little movie called Francis Ha!.

Gerwig, dancing through the streets of Manhattan in Francis Ha!

I fell, and am still, in love with Francis Ha!, a comedy about a dreamer living in NYC whose life is derailed when she loses her roommate and best friend, as well as her position in a dance company, rendering her an unemployed, aimless nomad. Francis Ha! became an indie smash, nominated for several awards (Golden Globe, Independent Spirit, London Film Critics Circle Film Awards, to name a few), and cementing Gerwig as a force in film.

Bouyed by this success, Gerwig wrote and directed Lady Bird (2017), Little Women (2019, an adaptation from the Louise May Alcott novel) and of course Barbie (2023). I can't wait to see what Hollywood's new femme-fab director brings to the table next. If it's an original movie that resonates with millions and draws in big crowds and big bucks, like Barbie did, maybe the Academy will finally give this remarkable talent the recognition she more than deserves.

Gerwig, directing Ryan Gosling in Barbie

And there are more, but not enough...

Despite the fierce odds against them, women have been fighting to share their celluloid visions with audiences since the advent of film (the first: Alice Guy-Blanché made her first movie in 1896). Hats off to the past pioneers and present day warriors who continue to fight the good fight and inspire future femme filmmakers everywhere. I wish I could write a tribute to them all, but here are a few of the greats and one film that I recommend from each, in no particular order:

Jane Campion The Piano (1993), Sophia Coppola, Lost In Translation (2003), Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker (2008), Ava DuVernay, Selma (2014), Nora Ephron, Julie and Julia (2009), Kelly Reichardt, Certain Women (2016), Debra Granik, Winter's Bone (2010), Lana Wachowski and Lilli Wachowski, The Matrix (1999), Jennifer Kent, The Babadook (2014), Charlotte Wells, Aftersun (2022).

Kathryn Bigelow, making history as the first woman to receive the Oscar for Best Director for The Hurt Locker.

[hopefulpeanuttrash]

Resentment list 4th step

1.being born into an awful divorce, this traumatized me and ruined my self-esteem. This covers so much I'm not sure how I'll get to 20?

2.my shy, timid nature. It would kill me to hurt a fly I'm quite the softie.

3.self-harm. I began cutting myself extensively around 18-19, this really cemented the self-hatred that stalks me all the time.

4.my female friends as a kid knowing I was gay before I did. My dick really controls me sometimes I just wanna get rid of it.

5.Being brought to a psychiatrist at 14(wow this is a big one) and going along with whatever he said because I didn't know better(how could I?). He put me on over a dozen different anti-depressants by the time I turned 15.

6. Poverty and injustice I see all around me, it sucks how unfair this world can be.

7.My father being an alcoholic, although he would never admit this. He used to get drunk and "wrestle" me really aggressively as a kid( like age 9)

8.getting creepily diddled by my family doctor, she said she was "checking me for lumps" but she had this creepy grin on her face and it lasted for at least 20 seconds.

9. My mother refusing any contact with me for the past 6 years. This has been the saddest part of my life, she raised me on her own and I feel so lost without her I cannot bear. I love her more than anything, she's my everything.

10. Crystal meth. You sank your hooks into me and ripped away my kindness, humanity and soul. I will never forgive you.

11.The deep sadness I've felt my entire life. This kindof relates to the first two, but just for context, this is the hole that meth filled. This was caused by an acute lack, of love and kindness/ my upbringing.

12. The demons that Crystal meth brought out of me. I will get more into this as it's really a few things. First of all it made me violent, my first time coming down I punched this small, make nurse as hard as I could. this isn't me, this isn't what my mother raised me to to.

13. This is my blog and there's just no way around this, my dad is kindof a pedophile, or "hebophile" more accurately, I've seen him thirsting over teenage girls. My mother, acutely aware of this did her best to shelter me from him and keep me safe. I always thought my mother's love was enough, I believed it would protect me.

14. When my mother left me at 19, I pretty much immediately began masturbating to the thought of girls a few years younger than me as a coping mechanism. I'll never forgive myself for this, when she left it felt like the good part of me left too.

15. The strange omerta surrounding these, uh, "issues" that make it impossible to actually help anyone and pretty much guarantee someone could get hurt, even though it's 2024, I geuss it's because it only really happens in men and we're in a tough place as a society(COVID)

16. As you may have geussed by now, Crystal meth brought out full blown pedophillc thoughts in me. It was the only thing that made me not suicidal for the first time in years, but yeah after a few months of daily use. I just full on wanted to fuck a child I can't really explain it, I don't act on these thoughts I'd rather jump off a bridge.

17. In conclusion, you may say "LOL UR A P3D0 KYS", and to that I say, alright. I've survived 3 or 4 suicide attempts so don't think you can break me so easily. I'm not here to advocate for pedophiles, but I'm a person, an inconveniently queer one so make of that what you will!

P.S. I'm in therapy and have been sober from meth so since August, I'm doing my best to man-up and solve my issues but if that's not good enough for you, you know what I know exactly how you feel a lot of things aren't good enough for me, including your society.