#3 hum bar alley way

[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 3: Stuck With You

The trio hangs out for the first time outside the apartment.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, mentions of dark backgrounds.

A/N: third chapter!!! this one is really short, sorryyyy...but I'll post another fic as well as a new chapter this week to compensate, I pinky promise!! this explores the trio's dynamic again but do not worry, things are coming 🫡 alright I'll leave you to it!!

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

The sun hung low over the city, casting golden light over the streets. Y/N had spent the better part of the afternoon wandering around her new neighborhood. It had been a week now, and between settling down and work she hadn’t had the time to walk around the streets. Wade had recommended a few places that he thought she would like. She strolled through narrow alleys and wide streets, passing cafes, small bookshops, and one bustling market. There was also this cute park a few blocks down where she stayed for lunch. It was all new, yet there was something comforting about this quiet exploration.

She hadn't quite figured out how to navigate the subtle rhythm of her new life— but she would managed. Everything’s going to be okay, she reminded herself.

When the evening chill began to creep in, she made her way back to the apartment. She was looking forward to spending time with Logan and Wade; the three of them had started to form an unexpected bond. As she climbed the steps to the apartment, she wondered if they were home yet. She could already imagine Wade cracking jokes, Logan rolling his eyes, and her somewhere in between, soaking up the dynamic. She already loved them so much.

The second she unlocked the door and stepped inside, Wade's voice boomed from the kitchen.

" And she returns!" He leaned against the counter, grinning. « So? How was your little solo adventure?".

Y/N smiled, closing the door behind her. "Amazing. I visited all the places you recommended and I’m definitely going back as soon as possible". Wade pumped his fists in victory with a little "Yes!", which made Y/n smile even more.

Logan appeared in the living room, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You got lost?"

"Only once or twice," she admitted, tossing her bag onto the couch. "But it's nice around here. I loved the park— I might check it out more later this week."

Wade clapped his hands together. "Perfect. Now that Dora the Explorer is back, we can finally head out to the bar. My set starts in an hour." His eyes sparkled mischievously. "And you're both coming, right? Because what's a gig without my loyal fan base?"

Y/N grinned. « I can’t wait! »

Logan just shrugged but nodded, clearly used to Wade’s antics. "Yeah, alright. Let’s go."

———

The bar had a laid-back atmosphere. Dim lights flickered over dark wooden tables, the low hum of conversation mixing with the occasional clink of glasses. They found a booth near the stage, a perfect spot to watch Wade’s performance later.

Y/N slid into the booth, Logan following after her while Wade grabbed drinks from the bar. She glanced around, taking in the crowd. People were laughing, chatting, and enjoying the night.

"This place is cool," she commented.

Logan nodded, leaning back in his seat. "Wade performs here a lot. Thinks he’s the star attraction."

She laughed. "Well, I guess we’ll find out tonight."

A moment later, Wade returned with drinks, setting them down on the table. He plopped down on the seat across from them, a wide grin on his face. "Alright, Y/N, prepare yourself for the best comedy set you’ve ever seen— or, well, at least the best one you’ll see tonight."

Y/N grinned. "No pressure."

They sipped their drinks, the conversation starting off light. Wade was in his element, cracking jokes about the people around them, the bartender, the state of the world. It was easy to laugh with him, the energy infectious, and even Logan cracked a few smiles in between his usual deadpan responses.

As the night wore on, Wade excused himself to get ready for his set, leaving Y/N and Logan alone at the booth.

"You think he’s nervous?" Y/N asked, watching Wade walk toward the stage.

Logan shrugged. "If he is, he hides it well."

They shifted their gazes to the stage as the lights dimmed, and Wade took the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Wade’s voice boomed through the speakers. "Give it up for me!" He winked at the crowd, earning a round of laughter.

"But seriously, thanks for coming out tonight. I hope you’re all ready to laugh, because I’m in desperate need of some validation!"

Y/N and Logan laughed along with the rest of the audience, Wade launched into his set, his energy filling the room. He was good—better than Y/N had expected. His jokes were sharp, his timing perfect, and he knew how to work the crowd. Y/N found herself laughing harder than she had in a while, and even Logan seemed to be enjoying himself.

———

After Wade’s set, the three of them were back at the booth, drinks in hand, a warm buzz from the alcohol and the laughter still lingering in the air.

Wade took a long drink from his glass and leaned back in his seat, satisfied. "Not bad, huh? I’d say I killed it."

Y/N grinned. "I have to admit, you were pretty great."

"Pretty great?" Wade put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. "Come on, I was spectacular."

"Sure, bub" Logan deadpanned, taking a sip of his beer. "Spectacular."

Wade waved a hand. "I’ll take it."

"It was fantastic, Wade, really." Y/n declared and Wade grinned, before thanking her.

The conversation drifted into the easy banter that had become familiar between them. They teased each other, joked about the people in the bar, and laughed at some of Wade’s stories from previous gigs. It felt good— natural.

At some point, after a pause in the conversation, Y/N found herself staring down at her drink, feeling the weight of the day. She hadn’t meant to go there, but something about the night— the warmth, the comfort of being with them— made her want to share more.

"You know, I’m really glad I found you guys." she said quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "I never thought I would ever get along so well with people. I mean, that fast. You really welcomed me into your family and I’m grateful. So, thank you for that."

Logan and Wade both smiled at her, their expressions softening.

"God, what did I say about making people want to cry?" Wade said, wiping a fake tear from his eyes. 

Y/n chuckled and joined his act, "I’m sorry, I need to break some rules too!"

"Too?! What are you insinuating ? You’re a teacher, you should be ashamed of yourself."

They all laughed before the tone became serious again, "I don’t want to talk in Logan’s name, but, I'm going to anyway— it’s a real pleasure to have you. Like, you’re a perfect roommate. And you survived a whole week with us? I know people who would die just thinking about it— "

"Okay, that’s enough," Logan intervened, "but he’s right. We’re glad to have you too. And if you ever feel like you’re tired of us, please, don’t keep it to yourself."

Y/n smiled softly, "Thank you."

They talked again for a while, about their day, their week, anything that would come to mind. Somehow, the conversation wouldn’t stop.

Y/N took a slow sip from her drink, her smile lingering but her eyes distant, as if a thought had crossed her mind during the conversation. Logan noticed first, tilting his head slightly.

"Something on your mind?" he asked gently.

Y/N glanced up, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. "It’s just... talking about being part of your ‘family’— it got me thinking about mine."

Wade, who had been busy throwing peanuts in his mouth while telling yet another story, paused and looked over at her, eyebrow raised. "Oh, are we diving into family history now? Because I’ve got stories that’ll make your childhood look like Disneyland."

Y/N chuckled but shook her head softly. "No, it’s just... my family’s complicated." She took another sip, as if to steady herself. "I had a great childhood, really it was perfect. I mean, I know nothing’s perfect and 'normal' doesn’t exist, but it was great. Until it wasn't, of course."

Logan leaned in slightly, his expression soft but attentive. "What happened?"

Y/N’s fingers absently traced the rim of her glass again. "My parents divorced when I was 12, I think? It was a mess. They were fighting over who would keep the children. My brother was already in college and his dream was to leave the country, so, it was only me and my parents. In the end, I would stay at my mom’s during the week and my dad’s on the weekend. You know the drill. Anyway…"

Y/N sighed softly. "Even after it was done, they would still fight. And I realized they weren’t even fighting to keep me anymore. When I was at my mom’s she would only talk bad things about my dad, and vice versa on the weekends, and I felt so lonely. So, it’s kind of like my deepest fear now, to be alone. I mean, I can be alone of course, but to feel like everybody abandoned you and you’re just by yourself? That feeling, well, you made me forget it."

There was a silence for a moment, a contemplative pause. Then Wade spoke, his tone unusually serious. "Yeah. I get that." He glanced at Y/N, then at Logan. "My childhood was... rough. I’m not going into details but, yeah, I was alone for other reasons. And I still had to go to school and because of what was happening at home I guess I developed my own medicine for that. Humor became my way of dealing with it. I learned that if I could make people laugh, I could hide what was really going on."

Y/N felt a pang of empathy for him. She hadn’t expected Wade to open up like that, but it made sense. The humor, the constant jokes—it was his armor, just like she had her own ways of coping.

Logan shifted in his seat, his gaze focused somewhere beyond the table. "I’ve got a brother," he said, his voice low. "Victor. We don’t really talk anymore. Haven’t in a long time."

Y/N and Wade waited, sensing there was more.

"Things went south with him a while back. We were close when we were kids because…some stuff happened, but... yeah." He trailed off, the unsaid heavy in the air.

Wade took a sip of his drink, his usual bravado softened by the seriousness of the moment. "Family, huh? It’s a mess. But," he added, flashing a grin, « You two? You’re both stuck with me now."

Y/N laughed, and even Logan’s lips quirked into a small smile. The heaviness of the conversation lifted slightly, but the bond between them felt a little stronger after that. They didn’t need to dive deeper right now— they all knew the weight of their stories, and that was enough for the moment.

The night carried on, the trio falling back into their rhythm of jokes and teasing, but something had shifted. The laughter was still there, the lighthearted banter, but now it was layered with a deeper understanding.

XXX

[tlou-reid]

hii could u do Farleigh w a peach tea <3

peach tea: “someone’s needy.”

smut below the cut! 18+ mdni (also this has public sex in it if you’re not comfortable with that do not read! no one sees but it is public lol)

you were too absorbed in farleigh’s presence to be bothered by the brick wall stabbing into the bottom of your back. your thoughts were consumed with nothing but farleigh, farleigh, farleigh.

he had you trapped, not that you were planning on going anywhere anyways. this alley outside of the bar felix had picked is exactly where you wanted to be. you were boxed in, his hands on each side of your body, running along the soft flesh of your curves. his lips were everywhere, your neck, your shoulder, the small amount of chest your top revealed. anywhere he could press a kiss to, he did.

“far,” you whined, attempting to pull him even closer. “hmm,” he hummed, not letting his lips leave your skin. “need you,” you whined, pressing your pelvis to his, feeling the boner he was repping.

“dorms?” he asked, pulling back for a second. you quickly shook your head, “need you, now,” you stressed. farleigh let out a condescending chuckle, one you were all too familiar with. “someone’s needy,” he teased.

“shut up,” you hushed, moving your hand to rub along his dick, “i’m not the only one,” you smirked at the way his hips jutted forward and the groan that left his lips. you moved your hand to unbutton his jeans, sliding his pants and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. farleigh pushed your hands away, reaching to flip up your skirt and do the same to your underwear.

he could feel the way your pussy was dripping as he slid your underwear down. “all this for me?” he teased. “hurry!” you chastised, growing tired of the game he was playing. “alright, alright,” he mumbled as he lifted you slightly, lining himself up before easily sinking in.

“fuck,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around his shoulders as he found his pacing. this angle was deep, allowing you to feel all of him in the best way possible. “gotta be quiet, sweetheart. wouldn’t want anyone coming back here.”

[poppy-metal]

no thoughts just day dreaming about college! infidelity! love triangle! artashrick ( i can't remember the ship name for all 3 idc idc ) listening slumber party by ashnikko. oh to go to some dive bar, do a shit ton of tequila shots ( as encouraged by patrick and tashi whilst they're dating ), smoking a joint patrick also pushed onto you in the alley behind said bar and choosing that song for your karaoke song after being peer pressured by patrick and tashi. ( the timelines of the song release and challengers do not match up i don't care ) everything seems wayyy too real when you accidentally glance at patrick whilst doing drunken karaoke a few too many times when the song talks about eating tashi on the mf couch and how her spit tastes like juicy fruit ( real lyrics for those not familiar with the song ) and all of a sudden art and patrick realize that despite how femme you are, you fucking LOVE pussy, especially tashi's

need her to to come up behind me and grind me against her like she's fucking me on the dance floor - patrick and art fucking vibrating in their seats - patrick is torn between joining and watching - he joins eventually when tashi throws him a look, and then you're between them - tashi at your back, patrick at your front.

giving poor art a show - three of the hottest people he knows, grinding like if there wasn't clothes between you, you'd all be inside eachother. he has to shift around and adjust his hard cock in his jeans.

thing is, it's not really cheating if patrick was aware the whole time - "you've been eating my girls pussy?" and there's not an ounce of anger in his voice, just heat. tashi is behind you anyway, and she's sliding her hands around your waist.

"someone has to." you tell him and his lips quirk.

"she eating yours?"

not yet, though she's expressed desire too. you focus on her in bed - because you fear how vulnerable you become when you're submissive. you don't want to grow attached to either of these people, not really. they're dangerous.

"she runs away whenever I try." tashi hooks her chin on your shoulder - her hands slide up your dress. "you should let me," she tells you, and patrick presses closer and you're trapped between them. patricks hard - you can feel him against your hip - and your lashes flutter. you tip your head back against tashis shoulder. "tonight." she adds.

"what about your boyfriend." you ask, breathless. you're forgetting why it's a bad idea to slip under their seductive pull.

said boyfriend noses along your throat - he's so tall, he has to bend down over you to do it. you feel warm all the way down to your toes when he does it. skimming along your skin.

"what about him?" tashi giggles. her lips nip your ear, she pulls the lobe between her teeth, tugs on it. her tongue is hot as it licks the outer shell. you shiver against her, your back arches right into patricks hard chest. "he's been wanting to watch."

"mm" he hums his assent. "you'd be hot as fuck together."

you think about it. you want too say yes. you feel the pull with them - you know it would be hot. you know you'd cum - and it would probably be transcendent. but you don't think you could remain in control. you barely have the upper hand when it's just you and tashi - and it's only because you put so much enthusiasm into making her cum on your tongue that she's too limp afterwards to try too hard to recuperate. it's that way on purpose. if it's patrick and tashi together though, two vs. one - so hot and intense and dominant.

"it'll be fun." tashi coos. "he could hold you open for me - you could finally let me at that little pussy you've been meaning to give me." god, her voice is so hot when it gets low like that. all feminine and soft - "I want to get my tongue on you."

you gasp - and you break free. hot and dizzy in the head. they let you go, part and then come back together easily. you don't have to glance back to know they're already skin to skin with eachother - kissing. and you think that's part of it. nothing is serious with them. it means nothing.

you rejoin art at the booth. he shifts nervously and you blink in suprise at the martini in front of you. you look at the boy across from you and he ducks his head. "you mentioned liking it, so i..."

"you ordered for me?" you ask, smiling.

he shrugs, glancing away. his face is flushed pink. you lean forward to sip at your drink, hiding your grin. he's looking out at the dance floor, probably out at patrick and tashi.

"they're all over eachother, huh." you stir your straw.

arts eyes float back to you. he flushes even more, if that's possible. it gets up to the tips of his ears. "you seemed to like it."

you shrug - "it was just dancing." you leave out their proposition to take you back to their place. you lean forward, enough that your tits nearly spill out of your dress and art eyes dart down, just like you wanted them too. he swallows. "do you want to dance with me, art?"

he does, you can tell. but he's a modest boy. patrick had warned you about his friend on your way to pick him up - 'he's a good boy.' he'd said. and tashi had grinned, twisting to look back at you. 'he wears a cross necklace. it's fucking adorable.'

he fumbles - "um." he tugs on his ear, awkward with it. eyes flitting between you and the dance floor. "im - I'm not very good at it."

you sit back. "that's okay." you tell him. you've decided you want something else, anyway. "you want to get a cab back?" you tilt your head. "they'll probably be out there for awhile."

art looks almost relieved. you have to bite back a giggle, considering your plans. "yeah," he says, and start to slide out of the booth. you think you really like his hair - you want to touch it. imagine gripping it later, seeing the blonde tuffs between your fingers. he pulls his wallet from his pocket and drops a few bills on the table. "do you think they'll mind....?"

"I doubt they'll notice."

you let art lead you out of the bar - you think being between patrick and tashi made you feel all out of sorts, out of control, out of your depth. art donaldson - he's cute - he's kind and sweet. corruptable, still. you'd have the control in your hands, definitely. you'd rock his world tonight - and put the other couple out of your mind.

it would work. totally.

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The 141 team’s fear hardens into fierce determination. The team splits up, scouring the city with relentless focus, driven by a shared promise to bring you back. The hunt is on, and this time, they’re not leaving without you.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 5: The Rescue Mission

The atmosphere in the 141’s HQ had shifted—what had started as worry had now solidified into something colder, sharper. Determination hummed in the air, electrifying the space where minutes earlier, dread had pooled in the silence. Ghost stood at the center of it, his masked face tilted down toward the sketches spread out on the table in front of him. The faint glow of the overhead light caught the edges of the rough lines, casting shadows across the grainy paper.

The sketches were crude, but they didn’t need to be perfect. They were enough. Enough to set Ghost’s mind racing back to the bar, to that night—those fleeting glimpses of a figure slipping in and out of the crowd like a phantom. He remembered the man now. The way he lurked on the fringes, his eyes always flickering in your direction, as if waiting for the right moment to strike. And Ghost had dismissed it, chalking it up to the usual riffraff that crowded the place. But now, seeing those sketches, the face twisted in his memory like a knife.

“This is him,” Ghost said, his voice low, gravelly with the weight of what they’d discovered. He jabbed a finger down at the sketch, his eyes narrowing. “I remember seeing him at the bar. He was always there when they were. Watching.”

The room tensed further as the others leaned in. Soap, who had been pacing impatiently, stopped, eyes flicking from the sketch to Ghost. “That bastard’s got to be on the streets somewhere. We can’t sit here, letting him slip through our fingers.”

Ghost nodded. The urgency was palpable. You were out there somewhere, alone, in the hands of a man whose face had been nothing more than a shadow in the background until now. He wouldn’t let that mistake happen again. “We need to hit the streets. We can’t ignore this. Not anymore.”

Soap didn’t need to be told twice. “Right then, let’s move.” His usual humor was absent, replaced by a hardened focus. This wasn’t just a mission—it was personal now. You were one of their own, civilian or not, and every second wasted was a second too long.

Gaz was already slipping on his jacket, his movements quick, efficient. His eyes met Ghost’s with an unspoken agreement: they weren’t coming back empty-handed. Price, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, gave a small nod, already coordinating their moves in his head. He wasn’t the type to rush into action blindly, but there was a steel in his gaze that said he was ready to burn the city down if it meant getting you back.

“Soap, you and Gaz take the east side. I’ll cover the west,” Price said, pushing off the wall. “We’ll meet back here in four hours with whatever we’ve got. Ghost, you keep your eyes on the comms. Anything pops up, we need to know immediately.”

Ghost didn’t argue. Someone needed to keep the operation under control, and there was no one better suited than him. His eyes scanned the maps pinned to the walls, marking potential hotspots where the abductor might hide, places where people went unnoticed. “I’ll stay in touch with the local contacts. We’re not leaving any stone unturned.”

As the team filed out, the weight of the mission pressed down on them. The night outside was heavy with fog, the city lights blurring in the distance. Soap and Gaz moved swiftly, their boots barely making a sound as they hit the streets. Every corner, every alley, every face in the crowd became a potential lead. Gaz’s sharp eyes swept the surroundings, taking in the smallest details, while Soap’s mind churned with thoughts of you, alone and in danger.

Their world, once filled with drinks and shared laughs, now felt eerily quiet. The streets that had once been familiar now felt hostile, as if the city itself was conspiring to keep you hidden. Soap's knuckles tightened around the grip of his weapon, his jaw clenched. “We’ll find ‘em,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “We’ve got to.”

Meanwhile, Price moved with calculated precision through his section of the city. His years of experience sharpened his instincts as he navigated the urban sprawl. He kept his focus on the task, but in the back of his mind, reality gnawed at him: time was running out. You could be anywhere, and the man who took you—this Devon—wasn’t going to make it easy.

Back at HQ, Ghost sat alone, the hum of the comms the only sound in the room. His fingers drummed rhythmically against the table as he monitored the team's progress, his eyes never straying from the maps or the live updates from local informants. Every piece of intel mattered now, no matter how small. He couldn’t shake the image of your captor’s face from his mind, couldn’t shake the guilt that he’d seen him before and done nothing.

But guilt wouldn’t help now. Only action would.

The search was relentless. Soap and Gaz questioned everyone they came across—bartenders, street vendors, anyone who might’ve seen something. Their descriptions were vague, but the sketch of the man with sunken eyes and a dark coat was enough to turn heads. People remembered a guy like that, especially the way he moved in and out of the crowd like a predator.

Hours passed in a blur of frustration and dead ends, but none of them wavered. The team was driven by something far deeper than duty now—an unspoken promise that they wouldn’t leave you behind. Not this time.

And as Ghost sat in the dimly lit HQ, staring down at the map in front of him, a message flickered across the screen. A contact from a nearby neighborhood. A sighting. A lead. His hand moved fast, fingers tapping out commands to alert the team.

The hunt was on. And this time, they were getting you back.

Read Part 6

Coming soon in Part 6, the team stalks through the shadows, closing in on a man whose twisted obsession had gone too far. This was no ordinary rescue. The hunter would become the hunted, and justice would be delivered, swift and unforgiving.

We're halfway through the adventure! Will the team find you in time?

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[misserabella]

could you do something with Joel Miller or Pedro Pascal himself involving him being jealous? ending in smut for sure

a/n; i love this, thanks for your patience and i hope you like it! <3

jealousy fuck

joel miller x fem reader!

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sex in public spaces, orgasm denial, breeding kink, possessiveness, jealousy, unprotected piv sex (guys wrap it before you fucking tap it), cream pie, hickeys, heavy-make out, degradation, teasing, edging, dirty talking, choking, praise, name calling (pretty girl, baby girl…), finger fucking and oral (r receiving)…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

imagine joel being jealous of some dudes that have been laughing a little too hard at whatever you were saying and buying you a little too many drinks. they were attractive, and young. younger than he was. that he didn’t like. what if you decided that he wasn’t worth it? that you deserved something a little better?

it was around the fourth cup that they had bought you that he decided he had had enough.

you couldn’t even say goodbye to the pair of guys that were spending their whole fucking wallets on you —not that you wanted to— before he was pulling you away from them with a scowl on his face.

his hands were warm as he pulled you tight against his side, and his feet were quick to push the two of you out on the streets. it was a warm summer night, and the breeze hit the exposed skin that your dress displayed.

the brick wall was the next thing that hit your skin, more precisely your back as joel pushed you against it, lips latched to your neck, hands tugging you impossibly closer to his chest. you couldn’t help but hum, your hands finding his hair. you could feel the roughness of his touch, of the marks that he was leaving on your neck, or the way he pushed one of his legs in between your own.

“joel…” you sighed, and he groaned.

“i’ve had to watch those fucking assholes try and fuck you all night, try to get a taste of what belongs to me…” you let out a breathy moan, the possession in his eyes making you tremble, his hands pushing your hips down so you could grind your aching burning push on his thigh.

“shit, joel!” you whimpered, your back arching when his jeans rubbed your clit just the right way. “somebody is gonna…, somebody is gonna see us…” you sighed, but he was distracting you a little bit too well with his wondering hands. you were hidden on the dark and deep alley beside the bar. you could hear people having fun inside, for fucks sake!

“let them. gonna show them who you fucking belong to.” he groaned, and before you knew it he was making you bend over and push your soft palms against the rough bricks of the wall, his hand pushing aside your panties. he grunted when he felt just how wet you were for him. “fucking slut… you like this shit, huh? playing with me until i can’t take it anymore? fuck you where anyone could hear us, see us?” his fingers were sliding through your wet folds, teasing your twitching hole, rolling your engorging clit… you nodded, tears sliding down your cheeks by the time he was fucking two of his fingers inside your tight drooling walls. “of course you do…, my dirty little girl. always wanting me to get a little rough with her, isn’t that right baby?” you moaned, his fingers curling and hitting your g spot, although he quieted you with his left hand around your neck, choking you. “shh, nice and quiet. you can take it.” you gasped for air, your back arching and ass dragging against his boner. he groaned.

“joel…” you whimpered. “fuck me, please…” you begged, needing his cock to stretch your pussy just how good you knew it could, needing him to fuck you dumb.

“shit. you want me to fuck you baby? want me to fuck you raw and fill you up? leave you dripping for me for the rest of the night?” you nodded, pleading, crying out when his fingers pushed out of your needy cunt to unbuckle his pants. he cooed. “it’s okay baby girl, gonna give you what you want. gonna fuck you all nice and full baby, gonna leave this pretty cunt of yours drooling for all of them to see.” you moaned, and his tip was gliding through your lips, lubing himself up before harshly plunging his cock inside. you gasped as he started to relentlessly fuck you, his thrusts hard and angry.

you whimpered, voice all broken and airy as he was still choking you, keeping you in place as he fucked into you over and over again, hitting your g spot, splitting you open ‘til the point where it almost hurt. almost.

“you thought they could fuck you like this, hm? you thought they could make you feel how i do?” he gritted his teeth, spanking your ass and kissing your neck, making you cry out. “you’re mine.” he groaned, fucking you deeper. fuck, he was driving you insane.

“‘m yours joel. only yours, fuck!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his free hand started to play with your clit, making your legs buckle and almost fall, except he was there to hold you up, to pull you closer to his chest… you were babbling. your orgasm so close your pussy was throbbing and tightening around him. “gonna cum, gonna cum!” there were tears ruining your makeup, mascara all fucked up. it was sight for sore eyes.

“not yet.” he growled, and you whimpered, feeling about to explode. but you knew that you’d be in trouble if you came before he had given you permission. “gonna fill you first. gonna breed this sweet cunt of yours baby. gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

“yes, yes, joel fuck! come inside! inside please!” you pleaded, desperate to feel him fill you to the brim, desperate to be able to cum.

and he did, grunting, warm spurts of his cum coating your walls and making you moan. you whimpered when just as fast as it happened, it went away. joel pulled his cock out, making you cry out, feeling his cum leaking from your needy hole. your high was fading, your orgasm going away.

“nonononono! please joel, please, i was so close!” you babbled, but he just soothed you as he pulled up your underwear once again, covering your used and dripping soppy pussy.

“shhh…” he whispered, drying the tears out of your cheeks. “you didn’t really think i would let you cum after having being a tease all fucking night, did you?” he smiled, but you knew the mean demeanor that engulfed him. “be a good girl for me and keep my cum warm for me until later, hm? if you do i’ll clean it up for you once we get home.” you looked into his eyes and nodded, your stomach burning in desire. if you did well… you’d get to feel joel’s tongue. he will reward you. and you loved his rewards. “atta girl.” he kissed you, dirty and sloppy, leaving you wishing for more, cunt throbbing in need to feel him again. you could still feel his warm cum dampening your panties as it dribbled out your stretched hole. “let’s go back inside baby.”

the rest of the night? you spent it on joel’s lap, kissing him and trying to muffle your moans on his neck when he’d discretely fuck his cum all back inside and deep your cunt with his fingers.

and when you got back home. he took care of you. with you on your back and his head in between your thighs. for hours and hours. until you were completely clean…

just to make a mess out of you all over again.

-

pedro pascal masterlist! <3

xxx

[fandomfics]

The Trouble with Love

Part 3

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x John Hancock x fem Reader

Description: After a mishap in the wasteland you are left to wonder if the ghouls you care for and have traveled with for years feel anything for you. The answers you find are not what you expected and leave you with more questions than answers.

Part 1 Part 2

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ only, MDNI

Unprotected anal, creampie, light dubcon? But like not really, queer, thruple, masterbation, Dom/sub dynamics, name calling, pet names, punishment, oral (m), praise/degradation, teasing, edging, violence, drugs

Not a long wait for the good stuff

Your head snaps up and your eyes meet his, "what the hell?" You blurt out.

"Yeah, when we started comin round Goodneighbor. Late night at the bar. Got carried away betting on who the better shot is. One thing led to another and we had a grand ol time."

You can't tell if the smile he cracks at that moment is because he's joking or he's amused by the expression on your face.

"You're messing with me, right?"

"God's honest truth sweetheart."

"Well that's....uh... Kinda fuckin hot." You say unable to keep yourself from imagining every lurid detail, your core throbbing at the thought. "I guess we should probably go work this whole dynamic out with him.....figure this out before we all get too deep."

"Heh, sure thing sugar." Cooper gets up with a groan and you follow. After you've redressed you head over to the statehouse to find Hancock in his office.

"Close the door on your way out Fahrenheit." Hancock turns to you both with a deep inhale.

"You two smell like you were up to something." He chuckles before making his way to to the couch. He sinks into it and gestures for you to sit too.

"We should talk about us...all of us" you say looking into his obsidian eyes.

"Look, whatever you decide I'll respect."

"I want to be with you both. I...I want the three of us to be together. I don't want to choose between you. I know neither of you are the sharing type, but I think this could work for us."

A pregnant pause comes over the room before Hancock turns his gaze to Cooper. "So does that mean you and I can also resume our elicit activities?"

"Oh God yes. " You blurt out shamelessly. Cooper nods to him with a wink and a small chuckle.

"Count me in Sunshine."

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Days later you lay on your back with your head in Cooper's lap and your legs draped over Hancock's while chems course through you. You've spent a lazy afternoon getting high in your room, needing the relief. Not even an hour after walking into Hancock's office someone burst in frantically looking for your trio, their loved one needing to be rescued from some nearby super mutants. Of course you couldn't say no, but you couldn't help but feel disappointed that you couldn't bask in the newness of this relationship.

Now that you're back you're determined to take a bit of time off, "One week. No jobs." You demanded. Neither ghoul protested, knowing it was going to futile to do so even if they had wanted to.

"So... Who wants to tell me the story of your first encounter." You suddenly say breaking the companionable silence that had settled in.

"Well, I had won a bet-" Hancock starts

"Like hell ya did, you cheated you dirty bastard!" Cooper raises his voice mockingly challenging Hancock

He shrugs nonchalantly "Landed me that pretty little ass of yours didn't it."

"I s'pose it did." Cooper chuckles "as much as I'd love ta tell ya, I think ya'd like it more if ya saw it. Be back in two ticks." Your eyes light up at the delicious thought, Cooper leaves for just a few minutes before returning with a holotape.

"Maybe sometimes I have the good doctor record my time in the loungers..." He gets the tape in the TV and it hums to life with black and white images of them. Cooper takes his seat as your pillow and you focus your full attention on the ghouls on the screen.

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Somewhere around 2am in a dimly lit alley in Goodneighbor Cooper silently stalks Hancock. He pushes him against a wall, hand covering his mouth.

"Ya no good sonofabitch," Cooper hisses "Ya cheated me, ya owe me 100 caps!" He removes his hand from Hancock's mouth to allow him to speak.

"No idea what you're talking about." He replies coyly

"I know the bet was rigged, now give me my caps before I split ya open."

A mischievous smile plays across Hancock's face, "Is that a promise? I do have a thing for handsome angry cowboys."

"What the fuck are ya talking about?

One of Hancock's hands finds it's way to Cooper's bulge and he's momentarily startled before replying.

"Ya think this is a game? Give. Me. My. Caps."

"My bad," Hancock raises his hands in surrender "come up to my office, I'll get em for you!"

Cooper releases Hancock and follows him closely inside the statehouse. Once in the office the door closes and Hancock bends down to open a drawer at his desk to retrieve the caps.

"Stay right there." Cooper gowls and positions himself behind him to ensure that he's not reaching for a weapon. "Put the caps on the desk slowly. "

Hancock obeys and starts to straighten until he feels a hand on his back, pushing him down face first into the desk and Cooper's groin against his ass.

"What do ya s'pose yer punishment should be."

Hancock smirks "you did promise to split me open..."

"Well now, yer gonna stand right there, not movin a muscle unless I say ya can."

"Yes sir." Hancock is obedient

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Your face is hot and you can feel yourself starting to get wet. You shove your hand into your pants and start to swirl your fingers around your clit. Both ghouls notice immediately and let their hands wander your body.

"Ya like that doll?" Cooper says letting an ungloved hand grab your breast over your t-shirt while Hancock runs his fingers lightly over your thighs.

You hum in response.

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Cooper lifts Hancocks frock coat until the bottom is resting on his back and roughly unbuttons his pants allowing them to pool around his ankles.

"Stay." Cooper wanders the room checking drawers, nooks, crannies, and cabinets until he finds what he's looking for. A bottle of cooking oil. "Yer lucky I'm a gentleman. This kindness is more than ya deserve after what you pulled"

"Thank you sir."

He places himself behind Hancock again as he removes his gloves. After diping a finger into the oil he spreads his ass and begins to massage the other ghouls tight hole. Hancock moans loudly as Cooper let's a finger slide in and begins pumping it inside him. He slowly adds fingers, priming it for his own needs before bringing them back out.

"Get down on yer knees." Hancock does as he's told, now looking up at Cooper as he frees his erection from the constraints of his pants. Hancock immediately moves to take it greedily into his mouth, eager to please.

"Just couldn't wait ta get a taste could ya, ya lil whore" Hancock hums in agreement, taking all of Cooper's cock into his mouth.

Cooper places both hands on the back of Hancocks head and bucks into him slowly building speed with each thrust, watching his eyes water as the tip hits the back of his throat. Eventually he moves to stroke his own but is stopped, "tsk tsk, what did I say?" Cooper says disapprovingly. Immediately he corrects himself and moves his hands behind his back to avoid the temptation.

"That's it, good boy." He says with a moan, he stops with his cock fully embedded, "Are ya ready for yer punishment?" Hancock nods as much as he can with his mouth full of Cooper. With his member withdrawn he pulls Hancock up by his coat and bends him over the desk, pushing the frock coat out of his way once more.

He massages Hancock's asshole with the tip of his dick, slowly working it in, a long drawn out moan from each resounds.

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The ghouls have undressed you as you still lay across them. Hancock lazily teases your clit with his fingers while Cooper watches on, pinching your nipples. You're eyes are still fixed on the screen.

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

Cooper grabs Hancocks hips and ruts into him hard and quick. The sounds of moans and skin slapping skin fills the room. Hancock claws at the desk in pleasure, every thrust is hitting home by the look on his face. He's flush with anticipation and need, clearly desperate to chase the high of climax.

"Sir," Hancock pants "can I cum, I'm so close..."

Cooper reaches around and holds the base of Hancocks cock and balls to prevent him from finishing, and whispers "No, ya can't."

He continues to fuck him hard until hes good and ready to spill inside of him. Cooper shudders as his rhythm is thrown off and he gives one last deep thrust, holding himself there for a moment. When he's finished he steps away, finally releasing Hancock.

"Alright, you were a good lil whore, go ahead." As soon as Cooper's hand leaves his member Hancock is unable to hold himself back and spills all over the floor and desk.

"If ya need anymore punishin', let me know." He says as he rights his clothing before grabbing the caps and leaving the room.

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The screen fades to black and you find yourself still being teased, "She's a dripping mess Coop." Hancock smiles

"Guess we're gonna have to take care of that now aren't we..."

[yayll]

IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE IT!!! Opposites attract are literally my favorite trope ever, i love bad boy unhinged rockstar Dazai and him developing a crush on the cute, considered the industry sweetheart who dresses in frills and bows idol/pop star Reader, and considering that idols change their outfits to support the themes of songs/tours i can imagine they get a matching outfit set one day and its rock style…..idol reader dressed in black and other dark colors, rips in their clothes and some skin showing……Rockstar!Dazai is biting the bars of his encloser-TeenZai anon

so sorry this is so late angel.... also i may have gotten a bit carried away w this concept................ i love u teenzai anon this one's for u and all the rockstar!dazai adorers out there (and for me bc i'm INSANE for this whole thing put me downnn) basically idol reader taking up dazai's rocker aesthetic for the concept/theme of the tour is literally the DEATH of him. and not in the way he's always wishing for >:3

~ a little something about Rockstar!Dazai and Popstar!Reader finding a middle ground ~

You show up to soundcheck one morning completely in tune with the plan for the show but thinking nothing of it, because you're sweet and cool and in perfect flow! Something Dazai simply isn't and it makes him practically gawk as you saunter past him into the dressing room. a few moments later you walk out in a matching outfit that compliments the one he's wearing and it's all over. Completely fucking done. The man practically goes non-verbal for a few moments when he suddenly calls for his assistant to fetch him his pack of cigarettes so he can dash outside to the alley of the venue to get himself together. The nerve of you to look absolutely ravishing in a completely different aesthetic... So hot. So annoying.

Of course you follow behind him, curious and also hoping he's genuinely okay (you're not just a sweetheart for show and he hates that!) You find him leaning against the wall, his lighter failing to give him the flame he needs for his sweet relaxation. All he hears is soft giggling and light footsteps.

"I'll light it."

You take the lighter from him and flawlessly flicker it alive while he just watches you with the stick between his lips, amazed and slightly aroused. He can't help but notice the way his nerves seem to immediately settle with you nearby and it both comforts and concerns him. Dazai looks down at your face as you lean forward with the lighter, a tiny moment of softness appearing in his eyes as he watches you light the end of his cigarette, the flame from the lighter making his Hazelnut eyes light up slightly. He quickly takes in a long and deep drag, his shoulders visibly immediately relaxing once the smoke hits his lungs, and his cool guy demeanor is back on. You chime in, poking your head back into his line of sight.

"Better?"

You smile at him sweetly, always keeping things cordial.

"Much."

He stares at you under his messy bangs, his narrowed eyes softening by the second as his lips curl upward. You're just too true.

You simply hum, standing around idly though not in the way that claims awkwardness, but rather the comfortable kind of silence neither of them get to experience often in this fast paced industry. You look down at your black platform leather boots, a sheer contrast from who you usually present as and it somehow feels liberating. You breathe out, matching his coolness.

"Thought so."

He almost snorts at that, and turns back to look over the features of your angelic face. no amount of black you wear could overshadow the glimmer that follows you everywhere you go. You're a lucky star that's gone as quick as it comes. One day he'll make a wish on you.

"You know me so well."

You huff into a soft laugh that lingers and eventually dies in your throat when you realize the fluttering in your chest is only growing. Yikes. You mutter, low and careful.

"I just... Didn't want you to have a bad night tonight, I guess. With the concert and the album dropping and all... I hope you don't mind I'm sort of dressed like you, heh."

You end it with a shrug as you look ahead at the clouds in the sky and for the first time in a while you feel a tinge of nerves. you, the industry's sweetheart can still feel that after your major lasting success? shocking.

He huffs slightly in response, leaning his back against the wall and tilting his head up, staring up at the sky as he mutters back.

"It's not like I ever really have a totally good time on nights like this, anyway."

You flash your attention at him, tilting your head. In all your years of the supposed 'clashing' between you, you have never heard him speak this way.

"Nights 'like this'?"

He glances back over to you, bringing the cigarette back to his lips for another quick drag before responding, watching you stare at him intently.

"Ahh, performing. All the people. The fans being all over me. The media. All of it, all the time. It's exhausting, actually. I know I'm super hot and talented, but the performance doesn't always end when I get off that stage."

This causes you to lean in just a tad and murmur, curiously.

"... So why do it? All of this?"

And just when he's about to truly spill it all, talk about his never ending battle with his mortality and his career and the way you dominate every single topic in his mind, he simply just looks at you and blows cigarette smoke in your face with that signature smirk of his you always pretend to find so irritating.

"Sometimes it feels real and constant. It's the only thing I can count on... Other than seeing your silly little imitation of me on stage. Hate the mesh, by the way."

You simply stare, taken aback by his oddly sincere and blunt answer. You mutter under your breath as you bite your freshly manicured nails.

"...Yeah?"

Dazai hesitates a moment, his dark eyes glancing away from you as he takes another drag from the cigarette, a moment of vulnerability flickering through his expression. He takes another moment before responding, his voice gruff and a little shaky.

"Yeah..."

He continues to stare off to the side for a long moment, a hint of something like longing and painful restraint crossing his expression as he seems to internally struggle with something. Dazai's expression hardens a little as he finally looks back at you, his shoulders visibly tense as he puffs on the cigarette again, blowing out a long stream of smoke as he tries to push down his own feelings.

But you can tell, you can always tell. Media training, baby.

After what feels like an eternity, you reach out for his cigarette and take it in between your lips, taking a long drag of it yourself. You puff out smoke in a far less cool way than he made it seem, feigning nonchalance as if this isn't the first time you've ever even TRIED one of these damn things.

"Minty..."

He glances at you as you take the cigarette and take a drag yourself, a small but subtle flicker of curiosity in his expression. He watches you exhale and blow out the stream of smoke, before responding in a sardonic voice.

"Since when do you smoke, little miss bubblegum pop?"

You choke out a laugh, waving away the smoke to regain your breath. You smile faintly with a shrug as you hand it back to him after taking one more drag for good measure.

"I don't."

He raises his eyebrows slightly, giving you a look of mischief.

"Then why are you puffing on my cigarette, hm? Your manager would have a stroke if they saw you like this, you know. I'd be marked as a 'bad influence'~"

You shrug again and hum with all the bravery in the world your little heart can muster.

"...Tastes like you, is all."

He just continues to stare at you for a moment, processing your answer. Dazai's expression still remains as unreadable and emotionless as ever, but his eyes flicker for a moment, something indiscernible flashing through them for a fleeting second. It's the internal panic from how badly he wants to kiss you right here and now. He seems to hesitate for a moment before responding with a small smirk forming on his face and sounding wayyy too eager.

"...Is that a good thing?"

You exhale, the smoke leaving your nostrils as you murmur softly, eyes locked on his.

"...Yeah. It's a real and constant thing."

His breath hitches, shoulders visibly reacting by scrunching up as you give your answer. He doesn't say anything, but there's a flicker of something like vulnerability in his expression, a hint of softness around his eyes that betrays his usual cool and careless exterior. He remains silent for a moment longer before responding, his voice a low murmur.

"Yeah... Real."

And before you know it, you simply decide to say fuck it! And do something you'd never have the guts to do before Dazai and his ridiculous self entered your life. You lean in slowly, inching closer and closer to his lips. You're within an inch of kissing him when you whisper.

"... For good luck tonight, Osamu."

Dazai watches you in silence as you lean forward towards him, his expression going from unreadable to filled with pure unfiltered need. As you pause just inches away from his mouth, his eyes flicker once more, his dark irises shifting down to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. For a moment he doesn't move, just staring down at you with an almost pathetically vulnerable expression on his face. You know better than to say his name like that. Then, in a low voice, he whispers back.

"... Shut up."

He leans down suddenly, pressing his lips against yours. Dazai's lips press against yours in a firm, almost desperate kiss. One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, while the other hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, threading his fingers through your purposefully messy yet somehow still soft hair. The kiss is passionate and intense, you can't even fathom how it's all gone down like this but you don't care.

Dazai thinks about how you taste delicious, sinful, and more importantly: Real.

For a few seconds, he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, before he finally breaks away, the both of you gasping for breath as he speaks in a quiet and hoarse voice.

"I can't think straight around you like this you silly little thing."

You smile, suddenly back to being bashful and absolutely ready for whatever happens tonight. You both look stunning and it's not just the outfits that speak on it. It's the genuine spark between you two, the collaboration everyone wanted but you NEEDED.

Just when you're about to reply to his snarky comment, your managers bust through the door to the alley and frantically fuss over you both as they yap about how late you are to soundcheck and the pre-show meet and greet. And why do you smell like cigarettes?!

Dazai turns up the charm and bad boy persona while you play up the apologetic and totally easygoing idol who's more than happy to make up for the lost time with the fans! And now in a different color scheme than they're used to!

Before you and Dazai are whisked away into opposite ends to finish getting ready, he leans into the shell of your ear, barely grazing it with his lips as he whispers playfully.

"You drive me crazy. See you on stage, and then maybe backstage~"

You swear you can feel every nerve in your body twitch when he smugly prances away from you after saying that.

... And of course the concert is a total jam, everyone's raving about the new music + matching outfits you're both sporting along with the undeniable chemistry you're cooking up. It's in the way you smile at each other in between songs, or when Dazai's singing a particularly flirty lyric he gazes at you instead of the screaming fans in the crowd. You dance and he watches, just like everybody else always does when you're in the room. Spellbound.

He may be wishing on you a little earlier than he thought he would be, but you don't seem to mind one bit, his lucky star. ⋆｡°✩

[honeybee-taskforce]

thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet <3 have some spice from chapter two of ‘not strong enough’, which (allegedly) drops sunday!

The hand keeps stroking him and is so distracting. He thinks about dancing with a pretty boy in a bar before leading him to an alley and pinning him against the brick wall. Carlos had practically jumped him like a wild animal as soon as they made their way outside and he might apologize if he had any regrets. The pearly smile and mischievous looks that he'd seen all night make him certain that he wouldn't have changed a thing. 

When Carlos opens his eyes again, TK Strand is rubbing his nose along Carlos' right thigh. He hums in approval again, when Carlos pulls on the chestnut hair in his hand. His eyes shift and lock onto Carlos’ and they pierce his heart and soul with their sea green shimmer. 

Carlos wants to devour him, and then hold him tight. 

TK begins his way back to taking care of Carlos' problem. His tongue swipes over the tip of Carlos' cock before he swallows it whole in one go. Carlos shouts and throws his head back, banging it on the headrest of his bed.

open tags + tags below as usual!!

Tag you’re it @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @nancys-braids @paperstorm

@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @sanjuwrites

@falloutmars @never-blooms @your-catfish-friend @lightningboltreader @catanisspicy

@whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

[gladoswantscake]

Nightmare - Akira Nishikiyama

Summary: Tears filled Nishiki's eyes knowing whatever happens tonight, he may never see Kiryu again. October 1, 1995 was the last time he saw him.

Warnings: Spoilers from Kiwami 1, mild swearing, horror

A/N: An AU where instead of 10 years, it's 3 years. I can't say anything else because of game spoilers.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

A few years have passed since the incident that led to the death of the Patriarch of the Dojima family. He could still remember it like it was yesterday. Seeing Sohei's lifeless body sent shivers down Nishiki's spine. Although he did it to protect Yumi, the consequences for killing a higher-up could lead to severe punishment. However, his oath brother, Kiryu took the blame. Since then, Kiryu's whereabouts remain unknown for the next few years.

With Kiryu and Yumi missing, the isolation and depression swallowed Nishiki whole. For the next three years, Nishiki attempted to bury the incident with alcohol to escape from the guilt.

Reina was the only person around to provide him comfort from the unfortunate events.

Nishiki sat alone at the bar, sulking in his thoughts. The condensation of the alcoholic glass cup grew heavier the longer he didn't swig. He then glances over at the seat where Kiryu used to sit.

Reina returns from the break room in her casual attire.

Nishiki doesn't bother to look up. "I'm sorry for keeping you here longer." He mutters

"No need to apologize. Besides, I enjoy your company." She attempts to lighten the mood.

He finally grabs the glass and downs it in one gulp. The burning sensation in his throat causes him to cough a few times.

"How has everything been going with starting your own family?" She attempts to make conversation.

"It's nice and all, but it's been difficult." He pauses. The thought of Kiryu popped into his head, which caused a lump to form in his throat. "Everything's been a pain since Kiryu got caught. It's unlikely but it would be great to have Kiryu in my family once he's back." His voice trails. "I hope prison hasn't been hard on him." Despite Kiryu's whereabouts, he prays that the police got to him first than the Tojo clan.

She hums to herself. "I know it may not seem much, but I'm off tomorrow if you'd like to grab some food and maybe sing some karaoke. Something to take your mind off of things. My treat."

He smiles a bit to himself. It's been a long time since he's done something fun. Even if it was for a short bit, away from responsibilities for a few hours was what he needed. "I'll take you up on that offer." He looks up at her.

"Great. I'll call you tomorrow."

Not too long after, Nishiki leaves Serena for the night. He glances down at his watch, reading after 11 p.m. The bustling streets in Kamurocho didn't help as the alcohol slightly intoxicated his mind. The loud noises began to bother him. He wasn't quite ready to head back to his apartment just yet. Maybe taking the long way home, away from the crowds of people would help clear his mind.

The further he walked, the fewer people appeared around him and eventually, no one was around except him. The sound of the train whistling from afar and the soft chirping of crickets filled the quiet alleys where Nishiki walked.

Quiet nights like these are where he found most peace with. It reminded him of when he, Kiryu, and Yumi were younger. If only he could experience it one last time.

He was instantly pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud crash not far from him. The noise startles him, causing him to go silent for a few seconds. He stood still. Maybe it was a cat? Then another loud sound follows.

"Hello?" Nishiki calls out. No reply.

A faint groan could be heard in one of the back alleys. Nishiki slowly walks towards the sound. The groaning grew louder the closer he got.

"Are you alright?"

"Help... please." The voice chokes out.

Nishiki's eyes widen. He runs to the sound where the voice cried out. Nishiki froze at the sight of the man. His blood ran cold.

The man's body slumped against the wall. Multiple large stabs scattered his torso, and his face was welt. He didn't budge. Another body lays out across from him. The corpse's head suffers from severe head trauma. Nishiki crouches next to the wounded man seeing the blood oozing onto the ground. The gold pin on the man's blazer indicated he was from the Majima family.

"What happened?!" Nishiki panics. "I'll get you an ambulance."

The man looks up at Nishiki with pleading eyes. Every word that tried to come out of his mouth was hard to understand. The man's eyes linger away to see a tall figure standing in the distance. The man lets out a harsh gasp and points.

Nishiki whips his head, and his body freezes once again.

"Ki-Kiryu?"

The rough and intimidating demeanor of Kiryu that Nishiki once knew was replaced with fury and madness. Scars scattered across his body. There was a small symbol carved on Kiryu's breast. Perhaps a family affiliated, but it was hard to tell who was responsible. Nishiki's heart sank at the sight of Kiryu. If he wasn't sent to prison, then he must have been sent to the hole.

"What have they done to you?!" Nishiki stands, taking a few steps back.

Kiryu takes a couple of long strides towards Nishiki. He glances down at the injured man and then at him.

"They took everything away from me. Striped my identity. Shamed me!" He grinds his jaw in anger. "I've been dubbed "The Patriarch Killer" all thanks to you." He growls. "I no longer carry the dragon on my back."

Kiryu briefly turns around to show was once a dragon, filled with delicate patterns and vibrant colors, was now severely burned and lacerated.

He walks over to the corpse where he bashed his head earlier, taking the dented bat from the corpse.

"I'm going to make sure your punishment was just as long as mine, kyodai." He spits.

Kiryu then looks over at the dying man and walks over to him. Nishiki backs up more and watches in shock as Kiryu raises the bat.

"I can't have any witnesses."

Nishiki instantly turns his heel and takes off. A blood-curdling scream fills the quiet night following the sound of metal colliding with the man's skull multiple times.

"Nishiki!" Kiryu roars.

His heart was pounding out of his chest as the feeling in his lower legs began to burn. He didn't turn to look back as Kiryu's voice yelled out for him. He couldn't let him catch up to him. He couldn't even imagine what horrible things Kiryu would do if he caught up to him.

He kept running until it felt like there was no oxygen left in his chest. He looked around to find a hiding spot, but his time was running short as Kiryu's voice rang out in anger. That was until a gloved hand reached for the back of Nishiki's neck blazer, yanking him into a dark back alley. A hand goes over his mouth while an arm pulls him deeper into the back alley. Nishiki tried to squirm out of the person's grasp.

"Stop moving and shut up!" The voice whispers.

Then, a tall silhouette emerges from the alley. The dragging of the bat scratches the walls of the buildings emitting an echo. "Nishiki..."

They held their breath and watched as Kiryu strolled by them. Neither one of them budged until Kiryu was no longer in sight.

The person's grip eases on Nishiki. He gently shoves the person's hands and steps away to see that it's Majima.

"I see you met him," Majima says.

Nishiki leans against the cold wall, finally catching his breath. He only nods in reply. "What... the... fuck happened to him?"

"I would be askin' you the same thing, but I guess yer just as clueless as me."

Nishiki regains composure. He couldn't believe what happened tonight. It didn't feel real. It had to be a bad dream. He buries his face in his hands as he begins to sob quietly.

Majima's brows furrow as he notices. "Hey. There ain't no time to be crying while he's out and about." He places a hand on Nishiki's shoulder. "We can go back to my office. We'll be safe there."

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 3

Loki went to see his dad in the evening after work, he knew he wouldn’t be at home, he rarely was nowadays as he was so focused on his work. So, Loki went straight to the hospital, a tall grey building that loomed over the whole city, often used as a main starting point for tourists trying to find their way around.

It had a special side entrance for vampires, so they could avoid the high risk of smelling blood in the air if they went in the main entrance.

Loki went straight to his dad’s office on the top floor. It was a cosy office, furnished neatly with a large oak desk being the main focal point, and it overlooked the city, with the red bridge clearly visible only a few streets away. Loki always enjoyed visiting, as he just loved the view, especially when it was covered in crisp white snow.

‘You have always loved this view, even as a child.’

Loki smiled and turned around to see his dad walking into the office.

‘Good to see you, Dad.’ Loki crossed the room to give him a hug.

‘Always good to see you, Son… but why do I get the feeling that you are after something?’ Lucius hummed.

‘You always have been good at reading people.’ Loki chuckled as he sat down on the brown leather sofa, Lucius poured them both a drink of neat whiskey from his mini bar in the corner.

‘I wouldn’t be much of a father if I couldn’t tell when something was up with my son.’ Lucius joined Loki on the sofa and passed him a glass.

Loki sighed. ‘I met this human today at work, she’s my new teaching assistant. You know I have no issue with humans, I like them and even have friends that are human. This one, however… she… she is driving me crazy. I really struggled to control myself with her today, she smells delectable and is so beautiful and kind. She’s supposed to be with us for a couple of years, but there’s no way I will manage to resist her for that long. I already went through half a tub of vaseline for my nose today, which is absolutely ridiculous.’

Lucius snickered. ‘When I met your mother for the first time, I nearly dragged her down an alley to feed on her and… well, I don’t think you want to hear what dirty thoughts I had for your mother.’

‘No, I really don’t. Please.’ Loki said quickly.

‘Well, anyway… what I’m trying to say is that it’s natural when you meet the one. Or, one of the one’s, at least.’

‘What do you mean?’ Loki frowned.

‘It’s said that vampires can have more than just one soulmate, since we live so long, they can be a fellow vampire or a human. Finding even one soulmate in itself is a wonderful thing. The reason you’re so attracted to her is because she must be your soulmate. Whether you decide to pursue her or not, is down to you.’ Lucius explained and took a slow sip of his drink, enjoying the way it burned down his throat.

‘I don’t have a decision to make, I won’t be able to keep away from her.’

‘It is possible. I courted your mother for two months before she couldn’t resist my charm any longer.’ Lucius grinned.

Loki chuckled and rolled his eyes. ‘Of course, she couldn’t. How did you manage that long without pouncing on her?’

‘A lot of self-restraint, feeding beforehand helps ease the urge a little. What I found that also helped greatly, I stole your mother’s coat after our first date… well, she left it behind once and I grabbed hold of it. Having an item of hers to smell got me more accustomed to being around her scent, so I didn’t end up returning it to her until she moved in. Although, vaseline works wonders too, so stock up.’

‘I feel like an idiot using vaseline.’

‘It’s vaseline or nose clips, pal.’ Lucius chuckled.

‘I guess vaseline will have to do then.’ Loki huffed.

‘It is also possible for you to just completely ignore your instincts, even for a soulmate. I know it can be done, because I did it a few years ago. I came across another human and had the same strong pull towards her, but I just couldn’t do it to your mother. She’s the only one that will ever have my heart. It was difficult, but I managed to resist and stay away from the human. Thankfully, she was only working here for a year before moving on.’  

Loki’s eyebrows shot upwards. Lucius hadn’t told him about that before. Loki actually felt a bit sad for him, that he didn’t want to love another again. Though he knew how much his mother’s death had broken him, it took many years before Lucius felt even a tiny bit himself again, even now he still wasn’t the same as he once was.

‘You’re really strong, mentally. I don’t think I’d be able to stay away like that.’ Loki groaned and his head fell backwards against the sofa.

Lucius gave his shoulder a squeeze. ‘You are stronger than you think. Your instincts might be strong right now, craving her, but when it comes down to it, if she’s your soulmate and you want her to be, you’ll be able to do the right thing to protect and not hurt her.’

Loki looked at Lucius and nodded. ‘Thanks, Dad.’

Lucius smiled, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription note and a pen.

‘I’ll give you this…’ He quickly scribbled something down on the note.

‘What’s this for?’ Loki asked with a frown.

Lucius handed the prescription to him with the utmost serious look on his face. ‘It can get quite expensive, so best get it through prescription. Because let’s face it, you’re going to need a hell of a lot of it.’

Loki looked at the note and he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. ‘Vaseline? Seriously?' He punched Lucius’ arm, who laughed in response.  

‘I didn’t even think you could get this on prescription… wait, why would you need to prescribe this for someone?’

Lucius smirked. ‘Probably best you don’t ask that.’

Loki shook his head and ran a hand down his face with a chuckle. ‘Well, thanks. I guess it will save me some money.’

Lucius stood and made his way over to the window, to look down on the city.

‘I hope you can make it work with this human, you deserve to find your happiness.’ He said as he looked to the red bridge, he noticed someone lurking about on it, looking at the water flowing underneath. ‘People are so fascinated with that river. I wish Chris would at least tidy up the mess from the hunt in a better way, to put a stop to the rumour and attracting people here. It puts us at risk of hunters.’ He growled.

‘I think he does it on purpose, to keep the rumour alive.’ Loki grumbled, he got up and walked over to stand next to his dad. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the bridge too, then his stomach sank.

‘That looks like Claire! She was there last night and went into the forest. Thankfully she got spooked by bats and ran off.’

‘Sounds like she had a lucky escape, of all nights to be there.’ Lucius hummed.

‘I know. I am worried how intrigued with it she seems to be.’

‘You can’t blame her, really. Since it is true.’

‘I know.’ Loki sighed.

They watched as Claire wandered into the park and began walking up the riverside’s path again.

‘No, don’t go in there again.’ Loki whined.

Claire going into the forest was the least of his worries. Loki and Lucius noticed a tall, dark figure that seemed to just suddenly appear on the bridge, watching Claire too.

‘It’s Chris.’ Lucius sighed.

‘Shit.’ Loki swiftly downed the last of his drink.

‘Be careful.’ Lucius said as he opened the window.

Loki gave his dad a quick nod, then transformed into a bat and flew outside without a seconds thought and down towards the bridge.

Chris smirked when he heard the flapping of Loki’s wings getting closer. He flicked up the collar of his leather trench coat as Loki landed next to him and turned back into his vampire form.

‘Why are you following her?’ Loki snarled.

Chris’ smirk grew, he didn’t look at Loki, just kept his eyes on Claire while she continued on through the dimly lit park. ‘She’s such a pretty little thing, isn’t she?’

Loki’s nostrils flared as he tried to keep himself from attacking the older, more powerful vampire. ‘You don’t like humans. Leave her be.’ Loki said through gritted teeth.

‘Perhaps I’ll take a leaf out of Severus’ book and give humans a try…’ Chris turned slightly to face Loki, a wicked gleam in his eye as his fangs slowly emerged. ‘Besides, if I don’t like it, I can always just feed from her.’

Loki saw red. ‘Don’t you dare harm’ He couldn’t finish his sentence as Chris turned into a bat and began flying towards Claire, who had now disappeared into the trees.  

Loki quickly turned too and flew after Chris. As a bat, he became Chris' equal, so Loki took that opportunity to try attacking him by striking him, aiming to knock him out of the sky.

-

Claire was prepared tonight as she walked confidently into the forest, she had a flashlight in her bag and a rape alarm. She only hoped there would be people nearby that would hear it if she needed to use it for any reason.

As she started walking through the trees, she heard the same sound as yesterday, but she didn’t panic as she knew it would just be bats. She looked up and could make out two of them flying around above her in a strange manner, it looked as if they were fighting, because they kept flying into each other.

‘Odd.’ She muttered. Though she didn’t dwell on the strange actions of the creatures, she continued on her journey to the barbed wire fence.

It was still as daunting as it had been last night. She looked along the fence-line, but couldn’t see where it ended. Her plan had been to try and find an entrance, though with the sound of the bats squabbling overhead she began to lose her confidence more and more by the second.

There’s no chance of getting lost, just stick to the fence… Come on, you can do it.

So, she began walking alongside the fence, away from the river. She had only managed to get a few metres along when suddenly a bat flew right into the top of her head, making her scream. The bat then flapped around in her face, she continued to yell and waved her hands around to try and get it away, but the damn thing was persistent.

Deciding it was getting too creepy and risky to continue, she spun around and ran back to the river, then down towards the park as the bat was still chasing and clicking at her.

As soon as she ran out from the trees the bat stopped harassing her, although she didn’t stop running until she got to the bridge, where she ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair and looked towards the forest. She thought she could see the bat hovering at the tree line, but couldn’t be completely sure because of the dark.

‘What the fuck was that?’ She crouched down to get her breath back, her heart was pounding against her chest like it was about to explode out of her.

Loki felt utter relief when Claire got back to the bridge, even more so when, after catching her breath, she began making her way back home.

He wasn’t sure what happened to Chris, one moment he was fighting with him up in the trees, and the next thing he took off. Thankfully, that had allowed Loki to chase Claire out of the forest before she went any further.

[quichein-me-softly]

a fine line w/ sans pt. 3.5

(enemies to lovers!sans x reader— this mostly just filler bc my pacing is so bad. feel free to skip.)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5

You realize that staying in this alley isn’t an option. The cold is biting, and Sans is clearly in no shape to stay out here any longer. His breath is shallow, and though he’s trying to keep up his usual front, the exhaustion in his eyes is enough to push you into action.

“Sans, we can’t stay here,” you say gently but firmly. You move closer, your hand hovering near his arm as you try to gauge how much he can handle. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

He doesn’t argue, which is rare for him. He just lets out a low sigh, the weight of his pain finally starting to settle in. “yeah… guess you’re right. heh, wouldn’t want grillby’s alley to be my final resting place,” he jokes weakly, but there’s no bite to his words.

Fuck, you think while biting your cheek. Grillby’s bar, while closing at 12AM, closed too early for you to seek any help. It was about an hour past midnight, the piercing cold was telling of how you both overstayed your welcome outside tonight.

You’re not sure whether to bring him to his place or yours, but the thought of him collapsing again on the way to his home makes the decision for you. “Let’s go to my place,” you say, already moving to help him stand.

Sans leans on you more than he probably wants to, but he’s too tired to resist. His weight is heavier than you expected, but you manage to support him as the two of you slowly make your way out of the alley. The cool night air clings to your skin as you walk, and every step feels like it takes too long.

He’s silent for most of the walk, but you can feel his breathing slow, the tension in his body easing slightly as you lead him through the quiet streets. You’re not sure if it’s the relief of moving forward or just sheer exhaustion, but Sans seems to relax, at least a little.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you reach your door. You fumble with the keys for a moment before pushing it open, guiding Sans inside. The warmth of the house immediately wraps around you both, a stark contrast to the chill of the alley.

You help him to the couch, where he collapses with a long exhale. For a moment, you just stand there, watching him, unsure of what to do next. He’s here, safe, but the weight of everything still hangs in the air between you.

Sans closes his eyes, his body sinking into the cushions. “thanks, kid,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not fighting the exhaustion anymore; he’s giving in to it.

You kneel beside him, the worry still gnawing at you. “Do you need anything? Water, food—anything?”

He shakes his head slightly, the faintest ghost of a smile crossing his face. “nah… just need some rest.” Then, after a pause, he adds, “you’re too good to me, y’know that?”

You don’t respond, just watching him as he drifts off into an uneasy sleep. The tension hasn’t left him completely, but at least for now, he’s safe. And so are you—together, in the quiet warmth of your home.

The soft light of dawn filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The quiet hum of morning fills the air, a stark contrast to the tension and chaos of the night before. You wake slowly, slowly remembering what happened the night before as your mind shakes off the fog of sleep. For a moment, you forget where you are, but then your eyes fall on Sans, still resting on the couch where you left him.

Right. You slept keeping watch over him from the kitchen.

He’s sprawled out, his jacket draped over him like a makeshift blanket. His breathing is steady now, the tension from last night no longer pulling at his features. He looks peaceful, almost delicate in the soft morning light. It’s strange to see him like this, without the usual smirk or sarcasm. Just Sans, resting in the quiet, as if the weight of the world has finally let up on him—if only for a moment.

You carefully get up, trying not to wake him as you move through the house. The events of last night still linger in your mind, the fear, the worry, the way he leaned on you more than he ever has before. You wonder if anything’s really changed, or if he’ll go back to keeping his distance once he’s awake. But for now, you push those thoughts aside and focus on the present.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen, deciding to make something light for breakfast. As you move around, the gentle clinks of dishes and the soft sizzle of food fill the room, grounding you in the simplicity of the moment. There’s a comfort in the routine, even with the unspoken tension that still hangs in the air.

After a while, you hear a soft shuffle behind you. You turn to see Sans stirring on the couch, slowly sitting up with a groggy expression on his face. He rubs his eyes, yawning, and for a second, you catch a glimpse of that familiar Sans—the one who hides behind jokes and lazy grins. But there’s still something different in the way he looks at you now. Something softer, more vulnerable.

“mornin’.” He mutters, his voice rough with sleep. He leans back against the cushions, stretching in a way that reminded you of a cat. “didn’t mean to crash here all night.”

You shrug, offering a small smile as you bring over a plate of breakfast. “It’s fine. You needed the rest.”

Sans glances at the plate, then at you, and for a moment, his usual sarcastic response doesn’t come. Instead, he just nods, a quiet “thanks” escaping him before he digs in.

The morning passes in a calm, quiet rhythm. There are no heavy conversations, no confrontations about what happened last night. But something has shifted between you two. You can feel it in the way Sans doesn’t immediately retreat back into his walls of sarcasm and indifference. He’s here, really here, and for now, that’s enough.

As you both sit there, eating in comfortable silence, you wonder what the day will bring—whether the walls will go back up or if this small moment of closeness will last. But for now, you’re content to let the morning unfold as it is, knowing that at least for today, he is okay.

It was still too early to bridge your differences, but it was a start. The quiet morning, the simple exchange over breakfast—it wasn’t much, but it felt like a step in the right direction. The air between you two was still thick with things neither of you were ready to address, but at least now there was a sliver of understanding.

After breakfast, Sans stands and stretches, his usual lazy grin returning to his face. He looks at you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, the tension from the night before seemingly gone. But even with his laid-back posture, there’s something different in his eyes—an acknowledgment of the fragile connection you’d shared.

“thanks for the food, kid,” he says, his voice lighter, but there’s a quiet undertone to it. “guess i should head out.”

You nod, offering him a small smile, not pushing for anything more. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

“yeah, yeah,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. But before he turns to leave, his eyes linger on you for just a second longer than usual, like he wants to say something else but can’t find the words. Then, with his usual casual gait, he heads toward the door.

When the door closes behind him, the house feels different—quieter, but not empty. His smell, a mix of tomatoes, freshly fallen snow and clean laundry, wrapping around you like a gentle reminder that he was here. That despite everything, he had let you in, even if just for a moment.

You stand there for a while, taking in the lingering presence of him in your home. It wasn’t a resolution, not yet, but it was a beginning. The gaps between you were still wide, but at least now, you knew you weren’t the only one trying to close them.

You sigh, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Sans, the man that you are,” you murmur to yourself, shaking your head slightly, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

He’s always been a mystery—guarded, unpredictable, with walls so high that sometimes it feels impossible to reach him. And yet, for all his sarcasm and indifference, there’s something underneath that pulls you in, something deeper that he rarely lets anyone see. Last night was a glimpse of that side of him, the part he keeps buried under layers of jokes and distance.

But it’s frustrating, too. Just when you feel like you’re starting to understand him, he pulls away again, leaving you with more questions than answers. You know he cares—he wouldn’t have stayed, wouldn’t have let you help him if he didn’t—but the way he shuts you out sometimes makes you wonder if you’ll ever truly bridge the gap between you.

The house is quiet now, but his presence still lingers, reminding you that despite the distance, there’s still a connection. Fragile, perhaps, but real? You can only hope.

[nonobadcat]

For @oklolnoty

Down the Rabbit Hole - Five Chapters - 20k words - Yandere Shigaraki Tomura x Rabbit Quirk Female Reader

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Rating: 18+ readers only - Minors DNI

Whole story TW: Noncon, yandere with kidnapping, severe quirk based discrimination, binge drinking, canon typical threats of violence (reader directed), canon typical death (nonreader directed), oral (give/receive), PnV (doggie), breeding, and expensive designer clothing everywhere.

Chapter 3: Choice - 4.1k words

TW: Oral (giving), mentions of quirk discrimination, non-con in entertainment media, and sexual harassment

At exactly 1:56 PM, you turned the corner from the main street onto a wide, concrete alley. Low, overcast ceilings hovered down around tall, glossy buildings. Vermillion hues, a product of human smog more than mother nature, washed the bottom of the clouds. From below the eaves of a grey high rise, a pair of narrow eyes, the same color as the sky, glared at you.

Shigaraki kicked off the hard wall, scratching his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like: ‘Sorry, did I keep you waiting?’”

You hiked your bow-studded messenger back over your shoulder and sauntered to his side. Wrapping your hands around his arm, you smirked at him. “Why? I’m not sorry and I didn’t keep you waiting.”

Tomura stiffened. “What are you doing?!” 

Huh… That reaction? At his age? Guess his mentor sent him to the hostess bar for a good reason.

You clamped down on him and sneered. “It’s 13°C and I’m in yoga pants. Shut up and be grateful for the view.”

Shigaraki’s gaze raked over your outfit. Tactically unzipped to the perfect level, the oversized hoodie gaped open to reveal a grey, ribbed tank almost as touchable as your ears. Its plunging neckline promised more cleavage than it delivered but the way it hugged your tits more than made up for the tease. The yoga pants in question smoothed your thighs and butt into sculpted perfection. Chunky, black sneakers with rhinestone accents added a girlish kick to the casual clothing. Taking a page from Lola Bunny, you wrapped your lop ears high on your head in a velvet bow.

“Hot, right?" you taunted. "It's too bad the club has a formal dress code. I think I causal-up really cute."

He scoffed.

You tugged his arm. "Third floor. Come on."

You dragged your date across the bland, grimey tile and past the money exchange service. A short ride up the cramped elevator carried you to the third floor. The bright, blue and red sign proclaimed “24 hours/365 days a year”. Beyond fingerprint-pocked glass doors lay the hidden depths of “MyStyle Manga Cafe”. You strolled in and dug your membership card out of your bag. 

“I have a reservation for the VIP flatbed pair suite.”

The balding middle age manager scanned your card before handing you a ticket. “Room ten, just next to the copier. Payment is due when you leave.”

You nodded, tugging your victim's arm. Cherry flavored lips brushed against his ear. “I got the one with the locking door. It costs a little more, but you don’t mind paying for the upgrade, right, Tomura?"

Your date inhaled as if he’d been shot in the leg. 

Oh. This was going to be fun.

Only about eight steps from the check-in desk, room ten was a cramped space, barely big enough for two adults. You flopped onto the thick, black floor pads and shoved the foam-stuffed pillow chair aside. The lock clicked from behind. New weight shifted the mat beside you. You rifled through your bag, humming the “item get” tune from Zelda as you produced a cheap USB drive. Within seconds, a pop colored menu burst to life on the computer screen.

“Animal Attraction: Tails of Love!” five different girls cried out from the crackling speakers.

Red eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

“You wanted the real me, right? Today, extra special for your royal pain-in-my-tail, I’m giving you the side I don’t show clients.” You held out a pair of cheap, padded headphones to him and flashed him a crooked smile. “Chase the cat girl, and I will claw your eyes out.”

A few hours later, a fluffy, white haired girl with blazing red eyes and tall rabbit ears stood at the back of an empty lecture hall. She picked at the heart shaped buttons of her pink sundress, refusing to look the player in the eye.

‘The truth is… the professor makes me feel uncomfortable,’ she explained, shifting nervously in her strappy sandals.' ‘Why? Did he do something?’ the player replied. She shook her head. ‘No. Not really. I mean, maybe I’m just imagining it but it just feels wrong. It makes my hair prickle and my stomach hurt when I’m around him.’ Fat tears welled at her pale lash line. ‘He asked me to go to his office hours today to discuss my grades but I... I just… I don’t know. I can’t put it into words.”

Choice:

Calm down. You’re just imagining things.

Your grades are fine, right? Just skip the office hours.

If he makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go with you.

Tomura clicked option 3.

‘Oh no!’ she protested. ‘He hasn’t done anything. I swear.’ Chewing her soft lips, she began to shake. She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, I’m sure I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry to have worried you over nothing.’  As she turned to bolt, the player grabbed her arm. 'Don’t say that about yourself! You’re not stupid!' Hard teeth bit quivering lips. Her nostrils flared. All at once her beautiful face contorted into pure pain. The camera panned high. A detailed CG filled the screen. Crumpled into her thighs, the heroine wailed at the top of her lungs.  ‘I know I’m not! Everyone thinks I am just because I’m a bunny girl!’ she shrieked, grabbing at her ears. ‘I’m so sick of it. Day in, day out it’s ‘Smile for me sweetie. You’re so much prettier when you smile’ and ‘wow… isn’t a bachelor’s degree kinda hard for you?’ and ‘You want to join our club? No problem. Why don’t you grab us some drinks and you can sit here so everyone can see you?’' Twin fists slammed hard against the tile. ‘I’M A PERSON, NOT A MASCOT.’ The player kneeled beside her, their hand hovering for a moment before they pulled it away. “That sounds rough.” ‘It is rough,’ she agreed, fumbling for her abandoned purse. The player held out their hand towel. ‘Here.’ Watery eyes stared up at the player.  ‘Look,’ the player continued. ‘You really aren’t stupid. If you say something is wrong then something is wrong. Even if you don’t want me to come, don’t go by yourself.’ She took the towel with a bright smile and shook her head. ‘No. I want you.’ Red eyes slipped shut as she buried her nose in the terry cloth. ‘I trust you, Tomura.’

Beside you on the floor, the real Tomura sneered. “100% guarantee the professor is a perv.”

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

His body went rigid.

“Something wrong?”

He coughed, tilting his legs so that his lap remained hidden. “It’s a pretty lame plot device. She should just drop-kick him through a window. Problem solved.”

You clicked your tongue. “It’s not that easy. She’s a senior in college and he manages her internship. If she makes him mad, her chances for getting a reference go up in flames.”

Boney fingers raked his neck. “That’s a load of crap.”

“But realistic,” you argued with a finger wag. “Despite being an indie project, the game got really good reviews specifically because the bunny girl route was such a realistic portrayal of sexual harassment.” A dark shadow filled your face. “Though there were some complaints.”

“Such as?”

Your eye twitched. “Apparently, the bad end wasn’t bad enough. If the player tells her to calm down, she quits school and leaves town, never to contact them again. Several reviewers insisted the professor should have on-camera raped her to really drive the point home that sexual harassment is bad.”

“...so they wanted to watch her get raped so they could whine about how rape is bad?”

“Yup,” you explained, flipping down onto the mat.

“That’s stupid.”

You laughed. “I know, right?! You need to just own your kink at that point! Don’t pretend you don’t like it just to feel morally superior.” 

“You wrote this, didn’t you?”

“Oh no, no, no. I wrote AND coded it.” You slapped the computer and pointed to your head. “There’s more than good hair between these ears.”

“Good hair or good hare?”

“Hares are not the same as rabbits,” you reminded him.

Tomura snorted. “Okay. Okay. I got it.”

“You better!” You shoved his shoulder. “I have no interest in stupid guys.”

He stared down his nose at you. “So why play dumb yourself?”

“No matter what they claim, people have expectations based on appearances,” you muttered with a frown. “A hostess is selling a fantasy. Turns out customers don’t fantasize about smart bunny babes.”

“They should.”

You flashed him a coy grin. “Are you saying I’m not so boring now?”

He scoffed and turned his head, but you caught the pink tinge at the tip of his ears. You hummed knowingly. He scowled and pointed at the screen.

“Why even work as a hostess if you can do this? Was the pay crap or something?”

"No one wanted me."

Tomura raised a peeling brow. "Huh?"

"Well, not for my brains anyway," you huffed, crossing your arms. "One look at my bunny ears and suddenly everything on my resume might as well have read, 'S class whore'. Women whispered behind my back and men kept staring at my tits. No one bothered to hear what I had to say."

Tomura glanced back at the screen. Shining with tears, the bunny girl in the game peered at him from above her declaration of affection. His eyes rolled back to you. "So when did you make the game?"

"College, during my internship." You scowled. "Didn't go so well in the end either."

"The professor?"

You shook your head. "Two 'friends'. One kept demanding I write stuff about heat cycles in the bunny girl route to 'spice it up'. Bunnies don't have heat cycles. They have receptive periods. I tried to explain and he told me I was just being nit picky."

"Receptive periods?"

"Bunnies and cats are induced ovulators, meaning mating causes ovulation. Cats go through a period where they are super horny called a heat. They'd bang anything," you explained, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Female bunnies just become more tolerant of mating for a few days a month called a receptive period. They don’t crave it. It's totally different!"

"And outside that period they claw your eyes out?" he teased.

"Google it if you're so curious."

"So what happened with the other 'friend'?"

“He backed me… At least until I told he figured out I wasn’t just a pussy-machine that you put kindness coins in until it dispensed sex. Then he sided with the other guy.” You pulled your knees to your chin. “I don’t like shallow guys like that, so it wasn’t much of a loss.”

Dry lips pinched into a thin line. 

A mischievous glint sparked in your eye. “Aw… not going to ask me what type of guy I do like?”

He scratched his neck, turning back to the game. 

“Now who’s boring,” you muttered, pressing your cheek to his boney shoulder.

Mechanically, Tomura tapped through the dialogue line by line until the two characters reached the professor’s office. The love interest knocked twice and fixed her companion with a nervous smile before slipping inside. Listening at the door, the player was privy to only half the words shared between the two.

“...concerned for you… Your grades are...” “...doing my best!” “...under a lot of stress.”

Chapped lips quirked into a cruel smile. “Bad flag.”

“Professor! What are you doing!” “...calm down. Just let me—” “No!” THUD.

Tomura whistled. “That escalated quickly.”

You winced at the choices. “This is one of the parts where we got into a debate about the ‘true ending’.”

Choice:

Open the door

Make some noise

Leave. This is not your job.

He tapped the quick save in the top corner. “Two arbitrary choices and an obvious bad end? Pretty typical to me.” He clicked the first option.

The door knob refused to budge.

He save-scummed and clicked the second option.

No one inside the room heard a word.

“Oh.”

You crossed your arms. “The other developers thought the best way to win her heart was to go all ‘hero to the rescue’. However, if you were to do that, she won’t get a reference for a job.” 

Red eyes shifted from you to the screen. With two taps, he quick-loaded the choice again. “Don’t be heroic, huh?” He sneered. “I like it.” 

Tomura tapped the last box. 

The player headed down the hallway, and around the corner. One screen shake later, they found themselves face first in the Dean of Students’ chest. Armed with an authority figure and a set of skeleton keys, the player returned to the scene of the crime. “You lead me on, you little slut!” “No! I swear I didn’t—” “You want to pass this class, right?” “Please don’t!” “Shut up and just—” The Dean shoved his keys into the lock before throwing open the door. “What on earth is going on here?!” Within seconds, the love interest threw herself into the player’s chest. “T-Tomura. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Work smarter, not harder,” you cheered.

“Chcc…” Brittle nails raked his scabbed neck as he clicked into the next scene. 

Down a long, winding side street, the player walked their love interest back to her home. When they reached the gate, she paused for a moment, digging her toe into the chipping sidewalk. Orange light streamed through the fluffy purple clouds. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at the player from under long lashes.  "You walked me so far just so I wouldn't be scared." A warm flush flittered over her button nose. "Would you… would you like to come in for a snack before you go home?"

Choice:

I'm not hungry.

Sure.

A manicured hand slapped Tomura on the back so hard he jolted forward. Your claws pointed to the second choice as you cheered. "GET SOME, PLAYER!"

Tomura stuck his pinky in his ear, jiggling it to clear out the ringing noise. "Could you be a little more loud?!" he muttered, selecting the latter option.

You hummed and rolled your eyes.

On screen, the player followed their love interest up a short flight of stairs to a violently feminine bedroom. Pink polka dots and chubby cartoon carrots splattered the bedspread like some sort of kawaii-pox. Impractically sheer curtains provided no privacy from the tall windows. Taking a seat on the heart-studded floor cushions, the player listened as nervous rambling poured from their love interest’s lips. “—could get you some tea if you want? You know, like green tea? You like green tea right? Oh, wait, you might prefer barley… Do you? I don’t know if I have barley but I could go get some really quick from the convenience stor— er… oh… but that’d be rude to leave you alone since there isn’t anyone here right now.” She flushed pink from head to toe, furiously waving her hands. “Not that I planned it like that or anything! I mean… well… maybe I did but it wasn’t for that reason, I swear! I just have something to tell you and it was too embarrassing to say in front of people. Oh crap! No wait! No! I mean, I’m not embarrassed by you or anything! I-I’m just not confident in myself!” She melted into her palms, steam pouring from her ears. “Ohmigosh what am I even saying?!” Confused silence was her only reply. A low thumping vibrated from the speakers. The girl quickly gripped her long leg, forcing it to stop tapping the ground. Red eyes looked everywhere but on the screen. Glossy lips trembled. “I… I’m in love with you!” she blurted out, clipping the old speakers.

Choice:

I love you too

I prefer cat girls

The mouse hovered over the second option for a moment. 

“You’re horrible!” you laughed, elbowing him in the rib.

He sneered at you before clicking the first line.

“Tomura… Can I… Could I kiss you?”

A gentle pop smack popped from the speakers.

“M-maybe… just one more?”

Small tongue clicks matched with a well timed lip bite, kept the IRL Tomura’s eyes glued to the screen.You reached for your purse.

“One more?” she begged, her voice raspy with need.

Tomura shifted, tugging at his pants. The back of your hand grazed his thigh. He didn’t budge. Satisfaction filled your stomach. You leaned in for the kill.

On screen, an erotic CG filled the screen complete with a covert cleavage shot and animated drool pooling at the corner of plush lips. Wet sucking noises split the needy whining. “Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”

“Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”

Your prey jolted as dual bunny girls echoed in his ears. His head snapped to you. You smirked at him and cupped his thigh. 

His breath hitched. 

Peering at him from below your lashes, you shuffled to your knees.

“What—” he gulped, leaning away “—are you doing?”

Your moist tongue flicked out, tasting your cherry lip balm. “That depends.”

Red eyes flashed to your lips. “On what?”

You chuckled, angling your chest until your top gaped open. Manicured nails dragged down bare skin into the valley between your breasts. “How much do you want?”

“How much of what?”

A fake, high pitched giggle rapidly devolved into a sensual sigh. Your lips grazed his ear. Warm breath tickled his cheek. “Of the truth?”

The mouse hit the floor mat with a soft pap.

“Like all truths, there’s a pretty part and an ugly part.” Walking your fingers up his thigh, you pressed onward with your tease. “The pretty part is I always wanted to try something like this with my boyfriend.” With a nod to the computer screen, you nuzzled baby blue locks from the edge of his jaw. “But of all the guys I’ve dated, you're the only one I know is nasty enough to be down for it.”

You snapped the button on his jeans open. He groaned.

“Neh. Tomura. You know that hostesses can get fired if they sleep with their clients, right?” 

His zipper fell. Your hand slipped below his elastic band. Warm sweat beaded in the pile of wiry, pale curls. You combed lower. Something firm jumped at your touch.

“After all, men pay for the chase. If they catch you, they have no reason to come back. No club wants a hostess that loses clients.”

Tomura’s eyes lulled into his lids as you wormed your way down the shaft. More on instinct than rationale, he leaned into the cushion behind him and arched his hips. Little by little you wiggled him loose from the confines of stretch denim and into the cool air. Musky arousal left a sticky trail up your palm.

“But the ugly truth is I don’t want you to come back. You cause too much trouble, crusty boy.”

Crinkling foil caused his eyes to drift open. You wagged the pink rubber in front of his face, before lowering it to his weeping, red head. Gripping his thigh for balance, you leaned down and wrapped your mouth over the strawberry flavored plastic. You tongued it down his shaft. He gasped.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Tomura.”

He squinted down at you through watery eyes.

With a smirk, you nodded to the screen. “Keep going.”

Click.

“T-tomura… Ah! Wait! When you touch me like that I—!”

Keeping your lips tucked over your teeth, you teased down with pressure, making him fight you just enough to squeeze into your mouth. One hand cupped his shaft as your fingers made a firm ring. The other slipped lower, gently threading his balls between your rolling digits. 

He moaned, closing his eyes. 

You popped off his cock, giving him a long stroke. “Keep going.”

Click.

“Ah… Your tongue! Hah… so wet. **gulp** It’s so different from when I— ngnn!”

You tugged his shirt and caught his gaze. Your tongue fanned wide, taking a languid taste of artificial strawberry. Saliva pooled at the tip before dripping onto him. With rapt attention, he watched the droplet wind its way between every crease of the condom. When it bulged over the rolled rim, his cock throbbed against your mouth.

Click.

“—feels so hot.”

You plunged down over his length, sucking in your cheeks.

Click.

“M-my brain is kinda… ahhhhh… mu-shy…”

Angling him for mid-throat, you pressed on until coarse hair tickled your nose.

Click.

“Just like that! Ohmigosh Tomura I need—”

Who knew crusty boy was packing a good cock? Not some hentai-worthy pussy destroyer or anything but the curve would have been nice to ride. Too bad the girth made your jaw ache. 

Click.

“Tomura. Oh, Tomura. Right there! Please. Hah. S-so close.”

She wasn’t the only one. Half of Tomura’s hand clamped down on your skull. Sharp nails pricked your scalp as he curled most of his fingers into your hair. Insistent tugs set a punishing pace. Your neck burned. Salty snot dripped from your nose. A stream of garbled cuss words slipped from his lips.

Click.

“—gonna! Mmmm gonna—!”

As the screen flashed white, Tomura stuffed you into his crotch. His swollen head pressed hard into your tender throat. You gagged. He groaned. Cum-filled condom ballooned at the back of your tongue. You jerked your head to the side, trying to free yourself.

He ripped his hand away. “Don’t do that!” he snapped.

Hacking into your fist, you glared at him. “Then d-coughcough-n’t choke me, moron!”

Beady eyes narrowed. He grabbed your shoulder and wrapped his legs around your thigh. The world flipped. Your head collided with the hard mat. Vision spinning, you coughed again through painful tears. Tomura snatched up the torn wrapper, dangling it over your chest.

“Watch,” he commanded.

One at a time, he brought his fingers down onto the pink foil. After four exaggerated pinches, nothing appeared to change. You opened your mouth to tell him off just as all five fingers touched the packet. All at once, dry ash fluttered through the air. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Welp, that explained why he seemed so touch starved.

“Understand now?!” His hard fist smacked  the padding beside your head. “I could have killed you, idiot!”

Between a tight throat and breathless lungs, no words could escape. Ice snaked through your veins. For the first time in a long time, terror rippled across your skin like a shock from a cattle prod. You swallowed, sniffing back tears.

With a deep breath, Tomura rolled off of you and shuffled away. He picked at the drooping plastic like a child picks at bell peppers. Cracking lips pouted. “How do I get this thing off?”

“O-oh…” You shoved off the mat and kneeled beside him. “Here. Let me—”

When your hand bumped his, every hair on your body prickled.

He pulled his arm away and averted his gaze. “Whatever. Don’t force yourself.

You grunted before lunging for his lap. One hand caught his jaw. The other circled his now drooping cock. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning him to watch.

“Not uh. Not until you understand.”

Centimeter by centimeter, you carefully dragged the condom free. Your fingers brushed his weeping tip. It jumped from the contact. The hand on his face trailed down his chest, following every dip until it bumped its twin. Three deft twists and a tight knot secured the payload. You swung it back and forth from your fingers and fixed him with a sultry grin.

“Don’t tell a professional how to do her job,” you warned. 

Tossing the condom over your shoulder, you wrenched his face to yours and locked him in a blazing kiss. His eyes bulged. Your knee slipped between his as your tongue dove through his defenses. Nip after nip, you coaxed him into your clutches. 

A low groan vibrated from his chest. His hands slid up your hips.The hair on your neck prickled. You ignored it, pressing slow, sensual affections deep into his skin. A whiff of your perfume slipped by your nose. Something twitched against your pants. Your toothy grin pricked his chapped lips. 

Got him.

Careful to peel away rather than pull, you scooped up your bag and the evidence of your little ploy. Through heaving pants, he shot you a pointed look. You nodded to the computer clock. It read a quarter to nine.

“I have another arrangement at nine thirty, so I have to get dressed. Make sure you clear out by midnight or they’ll charge you extra.” You nudged his now swollen cock with the tip of your toe. He shivered. Manicured nails clacked on the door handle. “Hope the rest of your night is less boring—” You flashed him a wink. “—Tomura. ❤”

You swung your hips and strutted away.

Violent curses chased you down the hall.

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Next Chapter Expected: July 30th, 2023

Expected Completion Date: Mid-Aug 2023

Taglist: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @shig-a-shig-ah @castershellwrites @smilinghowever @krystalwithakay @iris-goddess @ss-syche @mortallysparklyfun @meameows @magnificentclodpiezonk @betterfettered @utena-akashiya @ventdavi154 @st4rrust @imaginedheroine @the-lady-writes-what @shiggysimp69 @toughbook @naughteehee @tampon-earrings @alotofpussy @derobsawiempleh @jadke-bean @saintvinny @cookiecrumblemoonster @curlyangelsblog @hurthermore @prehistoricfreak @insomniamoth22 @celesterdzc18 @sasuqahs @gloomysel @ohnoitsthatonekid @tracksuit-goth @cinnatwisted @anteabelle @unlikelytrio @meru-the-succubus @diawh0re @linastired @mikeyrights @headmastermephistopheles @omisdolly @nochedeodio @starstruckvega @laurelyna @shiggysimp69 @certainlygay @rxyno @ventdavi154 @patch-workk @paranormal-dude @grenosethino @fancylardbucket @utena-akashiya @toughbook @oklolnoty@zombiegr1 @shyyykat @ushi-uri @flamme-meuf2-shiggy @vampirec0w @perpetual-fangirl900 @nekolover93 @saskenma@betterfettered @thread-knight @st4rrust @sparrowwritesforop @aphorditeslust@pindelighted @tadokorochann @usaggii

@beeandtrees @justineangelrococo @aaangeliii

[blogofloathing]

Part 3 of 3! The End To This Exciting Origin Story

Where am I, I inquired with the being who'd sent me here, floating in a hauntingly familiar way

But I could tell, for a fact, this was reality, I could see lights and shimmers glitter in the distance.

Looking at my hands outstretched before me, I could see them, even so, it appeared I was no longer made of simple muscle and bone.

It was as if my very form an outline cut in space, through which glinted stars even more brilliant and mesmerizing than the ones laid before me.

My body seemed to flow, clinging to surrounding particles as I move, leaving behind broad streaks of empty space wherever my self touched.

Even in holding humanoid shape, not static, like flowing and dripping in all directions at once, a slow hypnotizing stream unlike anything.

You're just outside the solar system, the beast expressed in a strange low frequency hum.

Interrupting my self reflection, and vibrating within what could be my organs in name only.

You will take the steps laid before, as you have proven capable of, tread lightly Rittle.

Only then may you sleep, the bloated god clawed onto my skin. I will assist, you can handle the rest.

Suddenly with a click, the channel changed, black jets of flame shot out of a large building, people like ants scattered around nervously.

The channel changed, I was overlooking an old junkyard, a bespectacled girl was rummaging through it, after a while she finds a-

The channel changed, a barn was frozen in the moments between and after exploding, a hole punched in space seemingly standing middleman.

Click, a newspaper building, several figures bustle around inside, but before I could read the sign-

Click, an old bridge, two hobos sat fishing side by side, one of them singing an inaudible jest, and-

Click, an unremarkable house, a "Live Laugh Cello" sign hanging above the door, suddenly a loud-

Click, a bar, built into an alley for some reason, it's patrons gathered to celebrate Crimbo it seemed.

Unknown scenes and people flashed before me, none carrying any sort of familiarity I'd come to expect from this world, why do you show me these

I couldn't recognize a single face I saw, nor any one location, where are we, I asked, unable to wait for a response for my previous query. It grinned ryely.

The smart little filly down there is about to find something, something of interest to you.

She will call you, thinking it a fun object of study, she has no idea what it really means,

She will call you, and you will ravage this world until nothing remaines, that will be it.

The door is already ajar, the culminations of your efforts haven't gone to waste little Rittle.

The creature wholly unwilling to pause for an answer from me, spoke with a reverence in its tone I couldn't place, it seemed to need me to have heard it, more than it needed me to understand it.

Now hold on just a minute, what does any of this even mean, the dripping beast simply smiled.

A cheshire impression of malice, my questions unnecessary, frivolous and amusing. I sighed.

Let us do as needed, I outstretched a starry eyed hand, its grin widening, gripping not my hand,

But my arm, in a constrictive bind. Its faces, for lack of a better word, stand inches away from mine

"Do as needed" it spoke, an audible order, before suddenly tossing me by the wrist through space.

To land unceremoniously in a heap upon the floor of some.. workshop? This would have to do.

Looking back at where I'd emerged from, a single cows skull affixed to an antique rodeo bull.

How ironic, this comedy wrenching out of me a laugh that shocked the very walls black.

You're on your own, that's all I can do from here, the voice intimated, before a sudden feeling as if a ringing in my ears had just been cut off. Despite having never noticed it until it'd already vanished.

At its absence, my smirk reemerged, placing itself tight upon my face as if never having left me.

Reeling off the high of my newfound existential joy, I took a moment to properly take in my immediate surroundings, the floor stung cold to the touch,

Several abandoned instruments and cut wires lay strewn across the floor.

A picture frame depicting a spectacled girl and what appeared to be a hobo standing arm in arm.

And on the wall, multiple newspaper clippings tacked amateurly in rows.

"On this day, Simone Chekhov receives a medal made out of solid meat! Due to excellent achievements in robotechtronics, and related fields of study, as brought to you by The Ocean City Watchful Eye"

The author of the clipping had been smudged with time, but no matter.

She would do as needed, perfect, It seems god had been correct.

I laughed the rumbling sounds of a thousand hoof beats, my voice cutting through the air as if my speech were a tangible force upon the wind.

The universe had such a sense of humor didn't it?

END of Part 3! The Origin of Simone's Captor!

[thatbanditqueen]

Against the Wall Chapter 1

An Austin Butler 1980s Hollywood Christmas Story

This is Chapter One of a 3-part story I plan to post between now and NYE. It’s my first AB fic, my third fic ever... so be kind. I’m convinced, as always, that its... well.... not great... but whatever. I’m committed to seeing how many bars and alley ways my characters can f*&k in.... Please share/reblog if you enjoy, and let me know your thoughts!

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve 1987, and Austin finds himself at a Silverlake dive bar, where he meets the voluptuous and insecure Hannah. Both struggling to make it in the movie biz, they embark on a tumultuous relationship....

Rating: Explicit

Warning: smut, so 18+ only please, vaginal, oral, drugs, alcohol, references to toxic relationships, infidelity.

Words: 13.8 K.... the next one won’t be as long, exposition....

Playlist to keep you company as you read....

Chapter One: Bruised Bananas

 1:16 a.m. Thursday, December 24, Technically Friday morning, December 25, 1987

The Black Cat Lounge, Silver Lake

“You sure its ok for me to go, Han Han?”

Hannah leaned in, struggling to talk over the sound of Depeche Mode reverberating through the small, dark club.

“Course! I know you don’t get any in Iowa, so go have fun with Rod.”

“I think his name is Todd! OK….   maybe you’ll meet someone before closing? You’ve been working your brains out, you deserve a good Christmas fuck,” Sara looked into her friend’s eyes, and kissed her  cheek. “Call me tomorrow? I live near Abe’s, maybe I’ll stop by and say hi…”

“Yes, please, Sloan’s back from New York and she’s bringing her latest victim, I’ll need you…”

Sara nodded as she followed Rod or Todd or whatever to the door.  Hannah sipped her vodka tonic, relaxing, she felt warm and happy. The air was full of cigarette smoke, chatter and excitement. New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle” started and she hummed along, enjoying how the loud synth boomed through her body as she basked in the glow of the Christmas lights around the bar, the only bright spot in an otherwise almost pitch black room.  Christmas Eve girl’s night was their tradition, usually there were five or six high school friends but tonight it was the two of them. Sara was home from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop for a week, so when Rod or Tod or whatever his name had started buying them drinks, Hannah was happy for her. Sara paused and look back, eye brow arched silently confirming one last time that it was really ok to leave Hannah on her own. Hannah hoisted her thumbs up in the air and smiled broadly. Lopsidedly. Drunkenly. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting she had make up on. A fuzziness grew at the top of her head. You should go too… go pee… then leave.

There was a long line at the bathroom. This is going to take forever…..  Hannah pushed up the sleeves of her black, sequined blazer, wondering if she could make it home first. Even the thought of peeing made her want to burst.  Don’t risk pissing yourself in the cab, just be patient, get in line.  Her stomach dropped a bit when making eye contact with some of the girls leaning against the wall, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt self conscious, fat, ugly….. New year’s goal, get down to a size twelve you stupid cow. Smoothing down her tight leather mini-skirt as she shifted in place, she argued with herself, that’s just your mom talking, shut up and love your self, stupid. Then a genius idea struck, and she walked towards the men’s restroom and swung through the door, making eye contact with the solitary man washing his hands.

“Of course there’s no line, s’totally unfair, isn’t it?” She said, winking, he smiled as he left.

The relief was immediate. Hannah sat there in the stall, she had never been so happy to sit and pee quietly in a bathroom. She pulled up her fishnets, arranging herself to leave when she heard the door followed by trousers zipping open. Oh well. Boobs first, Hannah made her way to the sink, grateful for masculine bathroom etiquette, the blonde white guy at the urinal kept his eyes forward while she washed up. She dried her hands, slowly, enjoying the voyeurism of watching him shake, zip up and turn around in the mirror, unaware of her. He stopped and grinned when he noticed her, blue eyes alight with surprise.

“Whooo, hey, what’s a bathroom like you doing in a girl like this?” His voice was gravelly and his eyes laughed, drawing Hannah in, she turned toward him as he twisted the faucet. Hair combed back in a high, messy, casual quiff, his square cheekbones were an invitation. He continued talking, washing his hands, laughter in his voice.

“Either you’re the most convincing drag queen I’ve ever met, or you’re lost….”

Hannah shifted, drawn in by his warm voice, the challenge of his droll banter… she ran her hand through her curly auburn hair.

“I’m just starting the bathroom revolution, baby, if you don’t have to wait in line, neither should we.”

“Ok, Gloria Steinem,” he said slowly, extending the last “nummmm” with a flick of his tongue, mouth open, looking her up and down. A bemused smile curving in his lips. It sent a shiver up her belly and through her chest as she felt the impish tenor of his voice roll over her.  

“Ya know, you actually strike me as the sort of girl who probably spends a lot of time hanging out in men’s restrooms…. checking out the goods…. picking up dates…” 

“Ha!” Hannah’s head flew back, she weaved and steadied herself, leaning further into the counter. “You got me! That’s my plan here.” Emboldened by his smile, she leaned closer and whispered, “Tell me, is it working?” 

He brushed one of her errant curls behind her ear, looking into her eyes, and then at her breasts as they heaved up and down in her low cut silk top. Biting his lip, he dropped to her ear.

“Well, you definitely got my attention.”

The air hitched in Hannah’s throat, his breath was on her neck and she shuddered as butterflies danced through the walls of her vagina. What the fuck is happening? Is he really flirting with you? Ughhh, why are you turned on? He isn’t even your type, he looks like a stock broker…  hot, country club, beautiful yuppie scum… oh fuck it. Maybe it was the warm comfort of being drunk in a low lit room, maybe it was the thrill of being in the men’s bathroom, or maybe it was the way she could still feel the heat of his finger behind her ear. Whatever it was, Hannah broke her rule to never make the first move and drew his head down to her lips. He tasted like beer and smelled like a mix of Jasmine and amber earthiness. 

“Hey there… you’re pretty friendly for a bathroom occupying revolutionary…” he muttered, softly returning her kiss. 

Hannah’s wound her arms around him, pulling him closer.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re all pretty easy, sex is a….” she smushed her lips against his, tugging him further down as his hands grabbed her ass, lifting her onto the sink.  “… an important part of our militant agenda… ahhh,” she moaned as he sucked at the nape of her neck, hands on top of her fishnets. 

His attention became more intense, returning to her mouth with savage, sloppy kisses, nudging his tongue in and pushing hers down before flicking the tip 

“God… you taste like strawberries…” he whispered, earnest, eager.

“That’s my …ughh… lip smackers…”

Hannah widening her legs as he pushed between them, her skirt riding up as his thumbs traced her inner thigh. She wrapped her legs around him and felt his cock stiffen. He stepped back to catch his breath and her mouth felt swollen, raw, and needy, she longed to feel his strong lips pressing back against her, owning her, compelling her to open up and bring him in. His eyes followed as his left index finger traced down the front of her shirt, slowly, grazing her breast, looking back into her eyes expectantly.

“Hey, let’s slow down….” 

Hannah’s response was dulled by the arousal vibrating between her legs, she bit her lip. 

“Hmmm….wait, what?”

“We should go back out there - dance? ”

“Ummm….”

She took a deep breathe, noting the bulge of his erection as he ran his fingers through his  dirty blonde hair, relishing how his sure hands grabbed her and tenderly lifted her off the counter .

“Unless you want to turn me around and just have your away with me here?”

“Public sex isn’t really my thing.” 

“Ah, you are more of a gentleman than I am, sir, I would have had my way with you right here and now…” Hannah winked, enjoying the blush that spread with his smile as he took her hand. She didn’t recognize herself, talking this way, the words just stumbled out of her mouth

“C’mon.” Something in Hannah’s belly curled as he grabbed her hand, his strong grip pulled her to him and she became an extension of his body, fitting neatly into the curve of his armpit, giddy as he looked down at her with a goofy grin on the way to the dance floor.

The music enveloped them as he unfurled her and moved his shoulders, swaying his hips to the sounds of Siousxie and the The Banshees. She turned and backed into him, moving in rhythm, lifting her arm to pull his mouth to her neck, rubbing her ass into his hips, turning back to wrap her hands around his neck. They moved together, awkwardly at first, then relaxing to meld in synchronicity to the beat. The slow, sad opening chords of Duran Duran’s “The Chauffeur” blared out and Hannah leaned into him.

“This is the last call song, it’s bar time.”

“Oh, cool… I need air anyway….”

Hannah moved towards the front door, then felt his hand on her shoulder,  he was nodding toward to the back exit.  Hannah pulled him into her arms as they stumbled into the alley, now he was walking her back to the brick wall across from the club, behind a set of dumpsters. She leaned into the cold surface, feeling its uneven rough ridges through the back of her thighs. The sharp sensation arousing her even more.

“What’s your name, anyway?” She asked.

“Austin…”

She whimpered as he kissed her, shallow at first and then deeply, slowly, his hands pressed on either side of her.

“I’m…. Hannah….”

“Hannah…..that’s my favorite name….”

“Liar….. “

“It wasn’t before tonight… but right now it’s… “ he kissed her neck, “the only name…” he kissed her clavicle, ”I wanna know….”

He paused, stepping back and taking a joint out. Hannah looked him over, like her, he was dressed head to toe almost entirely in black, punctuated by a metallic dark blue dress shirt that blended in with the rest in the darkness. The contrast made his blonde hair and lightly tannned skin all the more radiant. His bright blue eyes shone with lust as he lit up the joint and inhaled. Hannah reached over, taking it without asking, looking into his eyes intently as she leaning up to shot gun the smoke into his open lips.  Austin’s fingers traced the side of her cheek, down her jaw. 

“You are pretty cute, you know… for a sharp tongued broad who likes to harass men in the john.”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled as she gasped a “ha,” but he could see that his fingers  flustered her. Austin liked the idea that he was making her blush, making her speechless, smirking as her lips hung apart. The look of pure, unadulterated desire on her face made his cock hard, it had been at half mast since they left the bathroom. Her brown eyes looked up at him with awe, not demanding attention, not  expecting anything, she looked genuinely thrilled just to be there, standing in his shadow and fooling around. It had been a long time since he was with a woman who didn’t seem to demand constant flattery and praise. Austin looked back into her eyes, they seemed unsure, playful, innocent, an effect heightened by how hard she was trying to seem confident and experienced, grabbing the joint out of his hand in mock defiance. He lost himself watching her, wondering what it would be like to taste her as he took it back and sucked in another hit, savoring the strawberry lip balm that lingered on the tip of the joint. His left hand moved into the wall as he hovered over her, smiling down at Hannah. He was torn between a primal desire to protect and care for her, and pillage every orifice. The tenor of her voice and the way she seemed almost overwhelmed by their closeness on the dance floor gave him the impression she didn’t do this sort of thing with strangers often.

“So….Hannah…. nice to, uh,  meet you …” 

She smiled, a blush returning to her cheeks as her eyes fell to the ground, her hips falling further against the wall. Austin inhaled and held her chin up so he could now shotgun the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes answering his unspoken question by pressing her hands on his shoulders as she held in the hit for a few seconds, her forehead now grazing his, their noses touching. The sensation was intensely intimate, and Hannah’s expression shifted to a challenging smile as she took the joint back from him once again. Austin felt a bolt of electricity go up his spine and settle at the base of his skull, his whole body buzzed. He was transfixed, unable to break eye contact as his fingers moved up and down the voluptuous, soft curves of her hips. He loved the way her body welcomed his hands, warm, pleasant, comforting, he wanted to submerge himself into her plush bosom. His thought of his last girlfriend, all tight skin and bones, a sharp edged bird. 

Hannah’s dark curls bobbed up and down like her tits, Austin couldn’t help touching them. He pulled on a curl, watching intently as it sprang up and down, then doing the same experiment with her right breast, caressing beneath it and then lifting it up to watch it bounce. He could spend hours just watching the buoyancy of these tits heave above him. He leaned in, now his lips were again on her neck, his hands moving down her thighs, a moan escaping her mouth through the rich, exhale of smoke. She threw the joint on the ground, hands moving under his jacket, as Austin traced up her thighs. His fingers moved up her skirt, almost absentmindedly, seeking out the warmth inside her panties and between her legs. Hannah arched into him as his fingers lightly grazed the public hair at her entrance, looking up she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

“Is this ok?” His voice was low, cracked, his mouth parted. 

She nodded and he kissed along her jaw, moving  into the base of her neck, then her ear, his fingers delving between her and slowly, carefully, yet purposefully, stroking up and down over her clit, finding the moisture and using the slick to rub her in rhythm with her hip as it thrust forward. He joined her, rutting against her leg, gently sliding his index finger lower, into her cunt, gasping as he worked the tight clench, using his thumb to follow her moans, noting how she trembled most when he thumbed a half circle along the left side of her nub. She became slippery and soft, opening for him, her hands around his back, she moaned into the alley, her back rubbing against the rough bricks behind her with abandon. Shiny, black sequins from her blazer spiraled to the ground.  Austin stopped nibbling her ear, shifting above her, looking into her eyes.

“You are….. so beautiful,”  His cheeks flush, his thumb flicking back and forth, Hannah moaned out as he pushed his middle finger into her now.

“Don’t do that.” She said, looking up at him.

“Does that hurt?” He asked, pulling his second finger out, maintaining his slow, rhythmic flex.

“No, I mean what you said. Don’t talk …like that. Don’t lie to me, don’t say cheesy things because you think I need them… I don’t… I… ughh…. I don’t want you to be nice to meEEeee…”

Austin’s smiled as he felt her shudder, unable to stop her voice from trembling under his touch. Then he considered what she had said, his brows furrowing as he stopped fingering her. 

“Hey.” He moved her hand to his cock, hard and protruding through his trousers. His voice was low but firm. “I don’t like it when people tell me how I feel, or what to say…. Feel that? I’m not here saying things to be nice… you turn me on. I think you are beautiful… and I don’t care if you agree, honestly…”

She looked up at him, her large brown eyes serious. “I just can’t take it when men are…  nice to me.” She kissed his chin, her hand slowly rolling over his member. “I want you to be mean, be rough…hurt me…” 

Austin shook his head, his thumbs flicking over her nipples as he glided his hands over her breast.

“What… so you would prefer me to call you like… an ugly slut while I pound you into oblivion?”

Hannah nodded.

“Mmhmmmm.”

Austin’s bit his lip as she moved her hand, continuing to rub the outline of his cock and then pulling on his belt.

His left hand went to the base of her throat, tightening a little, then releasing as she paused.

“Sorry baby, mean and rough ain’t my thing…” he turned her around, slowly, and pressed her against the wall, she felt the cold brick against her cheek as he lips warmed her shoulder, sucking and nibbling as he slowly rolled her skirt up. Hannah gasped, moaning into the bricks, as Austin spoke, his words punctuated by each kiss to her neck. 

 “If you want me to fuck you... you’re going to have to take me….  Nice and slow…”

He arched his eyebrow as Hannah looked over her shoulder at him and nodded in assent.

“Yeah, ok pretty boy…  fuck me then….  Do you, uh, have a condom?”she asked, trembling. Hannah had never had a man treat her this way, it was the most baffling sensation, he asserted his dominance while seeming reverential. She hadn’t been with anyone since Eddie, her last serious boyfriend, and he was punishing in bed, taking pleasure in degrading her as he punched through her like a jack hammer. She felt all the blood go to her core as Austin promised to fuck her slowly, and she throbbed for him even more.

The need in her eyes made Austin momentarily unable to talk, just nod, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a condom, relief washing over him that there was one because he hadn’t planned on having sex tonight. He looked around, briefly brought out of lust’s heady daze of to put his wallet away, condom wrapper in mouth. He glanced down the alley, ensuring they were alone, even somewhat hidden from the back of the club behind the dumpsters. However, he knew anyone walking by would catch them, and the prospect both terrified and excited him. Looking back towards Hannah, he realized she was watching him ardently as he undid his trousers, letting them slide to the ground, shoving his briefs down and rolling the rubber on.

Testes pulled up in the cool night air, Austin leaned into Hannah for warmth, kissing the cushy softness of her ass, lowering her panties, swearing out with a whispered apology as he accidentally ripped her fishnets, he was so eager,  hurriedly sparked on by the arousal building in his stomach at the sight of her plump, heart shaped bottom. His hand cupped the softness and then slapped it gently, the pliant give of her cheeks tightening his erection as he halted at her entrance and slowly nudged forward, finding it still somewhat tight, yet also slick and welcoming. As he hesitated, Hannah pushed back on to him.

“I said fuck me pretty boy…” 

Austin let out a half laugh that turned into a moan as he reveled in her snug, inviting pussy, moving cautiously as he felt her soften and stretch.

“Does this feel ok?”he asked in her ear, and she nodded.

“Harder.” She called out, looking over her shoulder, seeing his mouth open in silent concentration as he surged gently into her again.

“Like I said, don’t…  tell me….” He kissed her shoulder, and grabbed her more firmly at the hips “….what do to….”

He plunged back into her, taking care to remain slow, steady, controlled, savoring how her soft hips moved back to meet him with each forward movement, never fully leaving her warm cunt as he burrowed deeper and deeper, opening her further up to him with every thrust. His right hand moved from her waist to her shoulder, as he pushed her harder against the rough surface of the wall without realizing it, fixated on kissing her neck, then just on breathing as he began to pump into her with slightly more force and speed.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He growled into her ear, she moaned back loudly, then his head fell forward into her back.

“Mmhmmm….. oh god….”

“Hey, let me know when you are close, ok?” He panted.

Hannah gasped, heaving. Just tell him, tell him, you don’t cum during sex… But she couldn’t, she didn’t want to discourage him, ruin the mood, stop him from continuing his steady thrusts that felt so good she planned to think of them later, alone, touching herself. So she nodded, gasping out “Okkkk…”

Austin pushed her further into the wall, increasing his rhythm.

“Ughhh, let me know if I’m hurting you, ok…?”

“No… this is good, I’m umMM… good” she said meaning it, but followed with a lie. “I’m getting close.”

His head fell into her back and he kissed her blazer. Her rough, scratchy, sequined blazer. He kissed it over and over again, as he grabbed at her side, her waist, her neck, his other hand pushing the wall over her shoulder for balance. Hannah felt the pebbly indentation of the bricks gouging into her own hands, too distracted by the pummel of him inside her to notice the pain. Desperate moans escaped her lips, she focused on the crush of Austin’s frame into her, shuddering as she pushed backwards into his insistent lunge. Reveling in the sensation of his hands brushing away the hair at her neck to kiss her, the rhythm of his cock plunging into her, the sounds of his breath, the firm yet considerate lilt of his voice. She moaned out loudly, trying to summon the sound of convincing orgasm, leaning back into him, and crying out. 

He followed a few minutes later with his own exclamation, breathing out a succession of “oh gods” in a low, frantic howl, heaving in and out several more times, then grabbing her hips to stop, extracting himself gently, holding her at her waist, kissing her neck one last time. Hannah leaned forward against the wall, catching her breath as she heard him tie off the condom and throw it over the top of the dumpster, then zip up his pants. His sweet, steady manner was jarring in comparison to her previous lovers. The ache of the rough, sharp bricks against her face and hands suddenly begin to set in, but her legs wobbled slightly and she leaned back to the wall to steady herself, a few after shock twitches as she tried to move. He took off his jacket and used it to wipe between her legs, carefully bringing her underwear and most of her stockings back over her bum as lightly as he could, smoothing her skirt down. Hannah rolled against the wall to turn around, still panting, and took in the satisfied, foolish grin on Austin’s face.

“Hey…” he murmured, his lips pursed together as they curled, his fingers brushing her hair out of her face, taking her hand, kissing the back of her wrist. “This is… crazy…I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this.”

Hannah inhaled deeply, tucking her shirt in.

“What, sex in public?”

“Yeah, s’not really my thing. And with a stranger. A crazy one who tried to make me hate fuck her….”

Hannah’s cheeks reddened.

“Yeah… I usually can’t get it up for nice guys… right? Ugh, gag me with a spoon….  I just don’t go in for the ‘oh baby you’re so beautiful’ routine….”

“Too bad, because baby…. you are so beautiful…”

“Just stop … ”

“What’s your deal?”

“Look, I know I’m ok, maybe cute, but I can’t stand it when guys exaggerate… I’m no super model... I actually have one in my family…. so I know what beautiful is…”

“Well… I’ve dated girls like that… Trust me, they ain’t all they’re cracked up to be. Petty, dramatic, high maintenance, no sex drive because they are STARVing? No…  I actually think I prefer having something soft to hold onto… ” He leaned down to kiss the top of her cleavage.

Despite her best efforts to stay cool and aloof, a genuine smile beamed through Hannah’s face as she swatted him away from her boobs and guffawed.

“Stop.”

Austin paused, leaning above her, blazer slung over his shoulder. Hannah eyed it, thinking how he used it to wipe away her sweat and slick, how much it would cost to dry-clean. Although, something about Austin gave her the impression he didn’t worry about dry-cleaning bills. He probably grew up in a big, expensive house, going to private schools, belonging to a country club. Suddenly self conscious, she wiped under her eyes.

“I must look like a mess…”

“A beautiful mess…”

“Ok, seriously, stop… you’re the beautiful one, pretty boy, really…”

Hannah soaked in the warmth of his breath, and trembled looking up into his eyes. He searched her face, an inquisitive look spreading he glanced down the alley.

“Hey, let’s go back to your place.”

“What? Why? I don’t even know you….”

A “ha!” escaped Austin’s mouth, floating up into the dark Christmas Eve sky. “Are you kidding me ? I was just inside you…”

“Well…”

“Look, I’m staying with a friend who lives down the street… we can’t go back there, I actually came here because he was fighting with his girlfriend… So we’re going back to your place… I’m not finished with you yet.”

“What?”

“You didn’t cum…Tell me I’m wrong?”

She stuttered. “It doesn’t matter, we both had fun…”

“ ‘It doesn’t matter…’ is definitely a no… “

“You don’t owe me anything…. It’s late, and I’m actually" Hannah stopped as a yawn escaped her lips “ quite tired…”

His lips turned into a mischievous smile. “I do owe you, and I always settle my debts… I might be more of a feminist then you are… female orgasms are my favorite…” He raised his fist and pumped it to the sky, laughing at her eye roll.

“OK,” he continued, “This is ridiculous, shut your pretty face and let’s go already.” 

Austin winked as he whisked her next him, putting his arm around her as he walked them down to the end of the alley and into a cab. 

———

A simple framed poster for Some Like it Hot in Italian greeted Austin as he followed Hannah into her small, second story studio apartment awash in film posters, art, dirty coffee cups and empty beer cans.

“It’s a mess, sorry, when I’m not working I’m sleeping…. Can I make you some tea?” She asked, an anxious energy in her voice as she turned around, slipping off her shoes and blazer. Grabbing a hair clip from the kitchen bar that clearly doubled as a filing cabinet, rolodex and table, Hannah pinned up her sweaty, curly hair. 

He shook his head. “So, what do you do? You know… when you aren’t seducing men in alleys?”

“Ha! You are fucking hilarious… that was also my first time doing anything like that…” 

She grabbed his hand as he tried to pull her back into an embrace, turning to the sink, filling a glass with water.

 “I’m an editor….  film editor…. I’m working a few so-so jobs right now but.. I’m working on my networking skills…”

“Oh, so you're in the biz?”

“Yeah… yeah… you?”

“Yeah, actually, I’m an actor..”

“No... no! You seem too nice for an actor… too smart…”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone knows actors are just empty vessels… vain stupid empty vessels…  they are the worst…. I’ve never met one who wasn’t a complete asshole. Think they’re the most important part of a movie… don’t understand the real artistry is the invisible stuff….”

“Like editing?” He grinned.

“Yes! Editing, writing, sound, camera work… everything else! Editing makes the movie… s’what puts the story together, otherwise it would 100s of hours of different takes out of order…. All actors have to do is show up and let other people dress them and do their hair and feed them their lines…. Ugh, I hate actors.”

Austin grabbed Hannah and pulled her onto his lap as he sat on her orange, leather arm chair, the only place he could see to relax, and kissed her with a smile.

“Ok, ok, I give in, you win, actors are slime and editors are unappreciated artistes…”

She put her arms around his neck.

“Hmm, see, you are smart…. For an actor… So, Austin, you been in anything I would have heard of?”

“Not unless you’ve been watching a lot of NYU student films….”

“Oh no, you’re not still in college, are you?”

“No, I graduated last year, just been living in New York, going out on auditions, I’ve had a few bit parts off broadway…”

“Anything promising.” She watched his face light up.

“Yeah, actually…” he looked down coyly, “I just scored a part in Sydney Pollack’s next movie, I’m moving back out here for it. My agent said its already opening up more  auditions… s’really exciting, actually…”

Hannah paused, her hand ran through his hair.

“Wow, Austin…  Pollack, good for you…. Wait, you said you are moving ‘back’?”

“Yeah, I actually grew up in Anaheim….”

“Oh no, you’re an actor AND you’re from Orange County?” She leaned into his neck all mock agony.

“What? What’s wrong with Orange County?”

“Everything… I know all I need to know…  next you’re gonna tell me you voted for Reagan… wait, don’t….”

“What’s wrong with Ronald Reagan” he laughed, taking her head in his hands and kissing her nose. “You are such a fucking fuss budget, you crack me up….” Drawing her head next to his, mussing her hair, looking up at the art on her wall, absentmindedly kissing her forehead.

Hannah embraced the pleasant comfort of Austin’s arms, looking at his profile, noticing the way his hair seemed to fall into a disheveled coiff yet still seemed effortlessly sexy. I’m lucky I met you before you were in a movie… who knows the next time you’ll have a one night stand with an average girl…. She flicked the bottom of his earlobe, and he turned toward her. 

“Wanna fool around?” He asked her and she gently slapped the side of his cheek with her hand.

“Don’t you get tired? It’s almost 4 … we should set up the bed…. I probably smell amazing,” sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “But honestly I can’t be arsed to shower.”

Austin moved his hands underneath her knees and around her shoulder, lifting her up, smelling her crotch, armpits, hair as she giggled and shrieked.

“Smell fucking amazing… you smell like fun….”

Hannah jumped up, extending her hand to lead him to bed. Which was standing upright on the wall of the living room.

“Wow, a Murphy bed? I’ve never actually seen one of these in-person…”

“Yeah, they don’t have these in Orange County, do they? I’m guessing my apartment could fit into one of your mansion’s bathrooms…” He shoved her shoulder with a ha ha ha as she kept talking. “This apartment was built in the ‘30s. It’s small, but it’s all I can afford and it’s only 15 minute over the hill into Burbank.”

“Oh, are you working at Warner?”

“No, I’m free lancing it, I’m at a little post house, we do a lot of Disney’s stuff…”

“Wow, look at you….” An expression of respect formed on his face as he watched her pull the bed down. He knew a few editors from his program at NYU, they were all dudes. Every editor he’d ever heard of was a dude. His own brief experience learning basic editing in a required class had shown him how much he detested that kind of work, he was not cut out for the grinding, thankless schedule of postproduction and the patient attention to detail it demanded.

“The sheets are dirty —“

“S’all good with me —“

“I guess I should change…”

Austin moved toward her, she froze in silence as his hands slowly untucked her shirt and lifted it over her head as she shifted, a nervous laugh startling out of her throat. She looked up at him, dazzled by his attention, soaking in his reverence as the back of his fingers trailed over her naked belly, turning her around as he kissed her back and unclasped her bra. Throwing it to the side, he turned his attentions to unzipper her skirt, bring her back to face him as he pulled her skirt down with her fishnets and panties to the floor, kissing the smooth skin over her plump belly,settling on his knees to lift her feet one-by-one as he gently took her clothes off. He drew her down to the edge of the bed, looking into her eyes.

“There, I think you’re ready for bed…..”

“Ha….” She said, almost breathless, pushing up on his shoulders. “I need to brush my teeth…” she patted him on the head, ambling to her little bathroom, looking back over her shoulder to see him watching after her naked bottom with a happy, dazed look on his face.

——-

12:05 p.m.  Friday morning, (Technically it had been afternoon for six minutes)  December 25, 1987

It was when Austin tossed into her and began snoring on the top of her head that Hannah woke up, finding his left hand cupping her breast from under her shirt. She lay there for ten minutes, enjoying the cozy warmth of his body as it spooned into her. The hard dagger of his morning wood jabbing in her ass made her sizzle, she hadn’t even really gotten a good look at it in the dark, but she knew it was a girthy bugger from slight soreness that lingered between her legs. His embrace was wonderful, but she couldn’t bear Austin’s snoring, it got increasingly louder and made her cracking hangover unbearable. How the fuck can someone so hot make these unholy sounds? Despite her best efforts to disentangle herself without waking him, she saw his eyes blink open as she held his arm, hesitating to find the best place to put it. His hand grasped hers and kissed the back of her palm, groggy, half asleep, he rubbed his eyes.

“Hey…. beautiful…” a sunny smile greeting her as he gathered her from behind back into his arms, smushing his lips into the curve of her neck.

“Hmm…. beautiful, huh…  forget my name?” She asked, turning inward to look at him with a teasing grin. He planted a strong peck on her lips. 

“Oh Hannah, I wasn’t that drunk… you know athletic activity helps keep the mind alert when drinking…” Austin wiggled his eye brows.

“Oh it does, huh? That is some bullshit…”

He smiled as he kissed her again, now hovering over her, her hips sideways against him. The unmistakable bulge of his cock against her ass. 

“It does…. I remember everything….. so, why are you so feisty this morning?” He said, gazing at her breasts. “Oh, right, now I remember… I still owe you a —"

“Austin ha! No… you don’t owe me anything—“

He put his finger to her mouth.

“Shhhhh….  Trust me, I’ve slept with more women than you, most girls don’t cum during sex… at least at first with me … ” he winked, his lips returning to their home on her neck.

“Oh? And how many women are we talking about here? What’s your sample size?”

Austin sighed, and stopped moving his hand up her thigh, settling back and leaning into her shoulder, his hands snaking around to grasp her tightly.

“Do you really want to know?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many?”

“I was just questioning your research methods,” Hannah turned to kiss his cheek, looking up into his eyes, a nervous laugh escaping “I’m just joking around….  I don’t know anything about you, I don’t know your last name, I don’t know how old you are…  last night was fun but…I’m a big girl, I know how this ends….  I don’t expect you to share your ...” she kissed his chin and flicked hair out of his eyes “... life history with me.” Hannah kissed him on his lips, and rolled over to get up. He pulled her back to him.

“Hey! Where do you think you are going… “

“To make coffee?”

“Oh no you don’t… ” he leaned in to kiss her again, barely detaching his mouth to mutter in-between soft, sloppy pecks to her lips. “My last name is Butler,” smush, “I’m 23,” smish, “I don’t do a lot of one night stands…." smash “I’m kind of a serial monogamist…” smosh “I’ve had … let’s see … three serious girlfriends …” smush, “and a handful of on-again-off-again casual relationships…a few one-time things, ” smash, “but I actually like good sex…” smosh, “and I find sex is just better when you get to….” smush, “know someone’s body…” he finished with a wink, brushing his fingers along her face. Each kiss sent a bolt of electricity down Hannah’s spine, and she sighed when he stopped, running her index finger lazily along his bare shoulder.

“Do you know how many people you have slept with? Like ever?“

“Probably around 25… counting everything… Do you? Do you keep a list or just use a bathroom turnstile or what?” Hannah let out a laugh, and shoved him as he grinned, kissing her neck, and working his way lower, trying to lift off her shirt. Flames ran up through her torso but she swatted him away. Folding his arms on top of her belly, he rested his head and looked up at her.

“Your turn….” He slapped her thigh. “Full name?”

“Hannah… Rosenfeld…. 24… Leo….  two serious boyfriends … I’ve probably slept with about 10 people, total.”

“And how many of them made you cum?”

Hannah looked up at him, blushing, and turned to talk into the pillow.

“I can’t talk about this with someone I only just met…”

She rolled off and went to the kitchen area. Austin pushed up in bed and watched her. 

“Why not? It’s perfectly normal and natural.”

Hannah looked at him over the kitchen counter as she filled her kettle with water. 

“It’s…  it’s complicated …”

Austin got up and walked over, taking the kettle out of her hands, gliding his fingers up and down her sides. Hannah quivered, leaning back into the counter, hands pushed against the hard laminate surface, she breathing louder and louder as his fingers moved to her panties, his muscular abs grazing over her breasts, his mouth hovering over her ear as he spoke softly, deeply.

“S’not complicated…”

He kissed under her ear, his hands worked inside her underwear, brushing over her, before moving down on his haunches to take them off, kissing the soft woolly patch at the apex of her legs. Hannah gasped as he rose and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up on the counter as she snorted.

“Austin..” She hit his arm. “What are you doing?”

He shushed her, putting his fingers into her mouth, and then bringing them between her folds. Hannah felt a tension building in her stomach, her chest began to ache and she inhaled deeply as he parted her thighs wide, a serious look on his face as he returned to her eyes.

“Just …relax….”

“But I ——“

His lips were soft as he kissed her, stroking the flame that was growing in her core, feeling the wetness that was developing.

“Please…I fucking love doing this….” 

Hannah gasped and nodded, watching him lower himself onto the floor, the thought that his quads were incredibly strong for someone so skinny passed through her mind. It was quickly gone as she heard him moan approvingly, fingers parting her outer lips.

“Good, you are so damn beautiful…” 

She laughed, vibrating at the way he enunciated each syllable in bee -ut - a - fulll. Playfully slapping the side of his head, they exchanged a lusty glance as he looked up at her with a devious smile, then resumed his attention to her pussy. Hannah’s eyes squeezed shut and she fell back on her elbows as Austin leaned forward kissing her inner thighs, enjoying the whimpers emerging from her mouth as he rubbed her center with his thumb. Making his way in, one soft kiss at time, he put her legs over his shoulders and opened her further with his hands.  

He smiled as her back arched and bit his lip, then leaning in to flick her lightly with his tongue, back and forth. The sensation was almost too intense on her clit, and Hannah called out in-between moans, embracing the tingling feeling growing in her depths as he moved the tip of his tongue in circles around her. Burrowing further, he nudged her clit up and down with his nose as he kissed and laved her entrance, then turned back to her pulsating round nub. Hannah called out indecipherable words as his tongue darted up and down the left side of her clit, long and slow, then shifting to lick across in quick, short staccato movements. She twitched as she felt the warm breath of his mouth on her nub, then thrusting forward as his right index finger slide into her and crooked up, gently swirling until Hannah jolted up with a cry. Austin paused and looked up at her, finger inside her but stilled.

“Uh, yeah… I just ….”

“Hmmm…. I feel like Columbus, did I just discover Hannah’s G spot…?”

“Columbus was a genocidal ….” She breathed out, chest heaving. “maniac….  But…. I do think you are …on to something…”

Austin laughed, and Hannah smiled at his blissed out eyes and goofy smile, his chin covered in her slick.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“No please god….. don’t stop…. Don’t ever stopppp” Hannah called out, trembling as she felt the hum of his self satisfied laugh against her clit, the feel of his index finger pushing in and out of the spongy, soft bundle of nerves inside her walls caused her to spasm uncontrollably. The more slippery she became, the more acutely she felt each stroke of Austin’s pointed tongue beckoning her into oblivion. The contrast between the light flicks of his tongue and the firm, forceful movements of his fingers drove her over the edge. A heat began to violently develop inside her core and Hannah screamed out as euphoric wave after wave spread through her pussy outward to her thighs and up through her belly button. Austin continued to press her clit gently with his thumb as he fell back on his shins, enraptured by the way her face contorted into a look of painful ecstasy.

“Uhhh. Stop…. Enough… I can’t ….” 

He laughed, gripping her thighs as he stood, wiping her dampness along his wrist, kissing her, stroking the sides of her legs. Hannah faltered trying to push up on her elbows against the counter, her arm hit the faucet, splashing water on them and into the sink. Austin stood between her as she pushed it off, stroking her thighs.

“Oh god…” she wiped her brow, tasting herself on his lips with a soft kiss.

“You ok?”

“Mmmhmmm….”

A soft, sweaty glow radiated across Hannah’s face, she grinned at the stiffness of Austin’s cock against her thigh. She worked his briefs down, glancing up to see the fierce need within his eyes, his lip parted as she brought him to her entrance at the edge of the kitchen counter, inhaling as he sunk into her slowly, feeling the pinch, the soreness from last night all but gone. He stopped, not moving as she thrust up into him. Austin gasped sharply, his length fully within her. His hands at her hips, he moved his right hand up to cup her face.

“Hey… I don’t have any more condoms.” He said, thrusting back slowly, and then forward a little, moaning. “Ahhh god, you feel so amazing…. But … we should stop.” 

Hannah leaned back, arms over his shoulders, uttering a frustrated grunt.

“I definitely don’t have any condoms either… fuck… you could just pull out… “ she offered, bringing him back into her, arching her hips into him, relishing the sound of his “fuckkkkk” as he stretched her open.

“Are you on the pill?”

She shook her head, “No, I just got off in August… dry spell… figured I’d just use condoms and go back on if I started dating someone… fuck…” She didn’t share the real reason, how she thought it would be easier to loose weight off the pill. She didn’t want to break whatever spell made this handsome, too handsome, man think she was fuckable.

“OK, yeah… let’s stop… I gotta go to a Christmas thing…. and fuckkk… ok…. we should .. definitely stop… ” 

“Hmm… I don’t… want … to either… but … I have ... same …”

Austin paused, just standing there, still buried to the hilt in Hannah. He kissed her, deepening with each one, tightening his embrace as Hannah whimpered. He looked down into her eyes.

“I want to see you again.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have a thing…”

“After?”

“Maybe….”

“Take you out… like on a date….”

“Ok.” Her voice was soft and breathy.

He pulled out of her, slowly, evincing a deep moan.

“I’m going to go buy the biggest box of condoms….” He promised, smiling into her with another kiss.

Hannah laughed, putting her hand around his dick, feeling her slick lubricating him as she tugged.

“I could still get you off?” She offered, puckering her mouth with a loud POP.

He looked over at the clock, it was 1:30.

“Fuck, god… but… ughhhh…. its ok… I’m a big boy… and I gotta jet,  I have two different parties I have to go to, and I’m already gonna be late…”

Hannah traced the ridges of the corded muscles along his abs, nodding, knowing she also needed to shower and get ready for her day. He helped her off the counter, kissing her, and  moving to find his clothes.

“So, what are you up to? Rosenfeld…. does your family celebrate Christmas?” Austin was on the ground looking for his pants.

“My uncle does, for his wife, they’re having a big party.” She leaned into the sink, watching as he searched for his clothes, now sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, pulling on trousers.

“Oh, do you have a big family?”

“No… he just knows a lot of people…. It’s just me and my dad here in LA…. ”

“Ohh… “ he smiled, as he bent to pull on his black slip on shoes. “Your pop meeting you there?”

Hannah shifted, running her hand through her hair.

“Um, no, he and my uncle don’t really talk….  s’a long story…. the short version is,  my dad’s an editor too… like a sound editor, he and my uncle started out together, my uncle’s a ... uh... a producer… they both came out here, found some success… and, well, about twelve years ago my uncle agreed to invest in my dad’s business idea, a full service sound design company … then.. well, my aunt convinced him not to at the last minute.. the whole thing kind of tore our family up….”

Hannah inhaled, and stopped talking. She didn’t tell him how her father had dealt with the devastation of defaulting on his loan by drinking. Heavily. How her mom ran off to San Francisco and then back to London, to her family, to get away, leaving 12 year old Hannah there. Which was ok, if she’d had to choose, she had always been closer to her father anyway. But things got messy, her father had made the horrible decision to restart his life buying a trailer in Malibu, in a small, unofficial retirement park full of nosy old people. Hannah had to transfer from her crunchy, alternative artsy private school to Santa Monica High, the nearest public school to where they now lived. Suddenly her commute to school went from 10 minutes to an hour, and that was probably the easiest part of high school. Pot, ice cream, music and her small coterie of friends had made survival possible until she escaped to college. Things were better now, her dad was three years sober in AA, working intermittently, though mainly non-union, TV and straight to video stuff. Hannah longed to buy him a big house, set him up, let him rest, he had been grinding for thirty years. She wanted to free him, help her father move on from his disappointed, disoriented life adrift these last ten years. Hannah stopped, feeling she had overshared.

She took in Austin’s look of warm sympathy, his low “Oh… wow…”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to get heavy… but.. no, I won’t see him today… we have a tradition, we swim in ocean at dawn on New Year’s day, so I’ll drive out to his place in Malibu and see him then…. But, uh, yeah, I like started trying to mend things with my uncle about two years ago.. ha…. You know, after I graduated from UCLA and started looking for work…. My uncle is a producer… I guess I am shamelessly trying to use him….”

Austin walked over, putting his hands around Hannah.

“That’s how this business is, I’d do the exact same thing - you have to use every advantage you have, because it’s not about how good you are…. It’s about who you know…”

————

5 p.m. 

The sounds of the party downstairs floated up to the guest room where Hannah had snuck off to call her friend Sara, excitedly running through the events of the last 24 hours.

“It’s like, a Christmas miracle babe… I might actually start liking this fucking holiday… When can you get away? Come meet me here, and we can go get a drink at Barney’s… I wanna hear all about Rod Todd.”

“Yes…. It’s definitely Todd, and I don’t think my night was as exciting as your’s… Give me another hour or so and I’m there…” Sara promised. 

Hannah smiled, she had been grinning all day, hearing Austin’s voice every where she went. If she squeezed her legs she could almost imagine feeling him between them as he asked to see her again, his hard length still inside her. She straightened her white blouse walking downstairs, she even smiled at the sound of the Vienna boys choir as she ordered a glass of red wine at the bar, nodding and making small talk with some of the other people there. The guests were mostly from Paramount where her uncle was Vice President of Development, but there was an assortment of people from other studios, talent agencies, competitors and random acquaintances. Right now, Hannah was learning how her uncle’s accountant had walk-on roles in several films last year. Hannah guessed over a hundred people were wandering around the party throughout the downstairs and back yard of her aunt and uncle’s vast Bel Air mansion. 

A caterer walked by with bacon wrapped scallops, and Hannah had only popped one her mouth when her younger cousin Nathan ran up and grabbed her hand.

“Mfph… caor-ful nat-tin,” she swallowed, steadying. “Wheww, I almost spilled my wine.”

“Mom said to come find you, Sloan just arrived with her boyfriend, she wants a family photo.”

“Ok, ugh, how do I look?” Hannah asked, brushing off Nathan’s hand as she followed him to the front of the house. “Oh, how much of an arrogant douche is this one?”

“I can’t tell, he looks like he could go other way..”

Hannah laughed and then stopped in her tracks as they rounded the hallway, the air left her throat and she jumped back, startled, her hand jerking back and spilling red wine all over her white blouse, her purse dropping to the ground.

“FUck fuck fuck…” she whispered, as she bent down to grab it. You are insane, every where you go, every voice you hear, you think it’s fucking Austin. But as she stood up, she saw Austin’s horrified face looking back at her, her thin, gorgeous cousin Sloan hanging on his arm. Her model cousin Sloan. Her 20 year-old model cousin Sloan. Sloan’s mouth agape in a shocked laugh as her aunt ran over, the British accent made her voice all the more shrill.

“Hannah, oh god, did you get any wine on the carpet? Dear dear, now we’ll have to wait to do the photo… Abe, ABE!  Get Gigi out of the kitchen for me…”

Hannah trembled, putting her glass on the nearest side table, thankful all the wine had spilled on her shirt, and none had landed on the pure, white carpet. She closed her eyes, wishing to be anywhere else as her aunt turned her around and started walking them away from the group, looking back to yell.

“Please excuse me, Austin, it was so nice to see you again. I have to go get my clumsy niece sorted out…  Sloan, show him around, won’t you? We’ll do the photo later….” She moved Hannah forward. “What am I going to do with you, Hannah? I just hope we can find something that fits… maybe one of Abe’s dress shirts… oh, I think I have an oversized holiday sweater that will work.”

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror of her aunt and uncle’s master suite. A large, oversized ugly bright red Christmas sweater dwarfed her body, almost completely covering her blue mini-skirt. She fell back onto the large, soft bed, arms spread, doom enveloping her. She felt the hairspray on her dirty hair crunch. Of course. You knew he was too good to be real. Maybe you imagined last night … maybe he was just a figment of your delusional mind…. ? Wallowing in self pity, the sound of the door disturbed her from her reverie.

“It’s ok, Elaine, I’m coming - I just need a moment…”

“Hannah?” 

She jolted up at Austin’s voice, watching from across the room, arms crossed, eyes glaring as he closed the door.

“Fuck off….”

“Hannah, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh?”

“No, look… Sloan and I broke up last week… she just… I just… she asked if I would come do this one last thing as a couple… it meant a lot not to tell her mom right now… I was gonna be out here anyway…"

Hannah looked down as he strode over, backing away as he tried to embrace her, wiping the tears at her eyes.

“Don’t…”

“Please, don’t be like this… fuck… this is the most unreal fluke … ya guys don’t even have the same last name…”

“We do have the same last name,  Rosenfeld is too ugly for a model, too Jewy, Sloan shortened it to Rose when she moved to New York after high school … ”

“Hannah.” He stepped closer. “C’mon, it was an honest mistake.”

“Ok, so if it’s not such a big deal, why didn’t you mention this morning that you had to pull out of me to go take your ex-girlfriend to her family’s Christmas party? …. It’s all about who you know, isn’t Austin? Tell me. ” Hannah jeered, wiping more tears away. “Is Abe producing the film you’re in?”

Austin growled, fighting off her swats and grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her still. He wanted to choke her and fuck her into submission and comfort her all at once. The fear and anger in her eyes caused him to back off.

“Just stop, ok, you’re not being fair… " he relaxed his grip, Hannah went slack and fell into his arms. “Oh Hannah…  I’m sorry… you’re right… Sloan… we really are broken up… but … it did feel weird meeting up with her... today…. after last night… this is… gnarly…. but I like you…  I still wanna see you again, is that so crazy?” 

He took her by the chin, gently, looking into her face, searching for recognition. Her expression tensed, a stony smile formed as she pushed him away.

“Here’s the thing, Austin. Babe. There’s a girl code. Friends, cousins, their exes are off limits.”

As her feet padded down the stairs, Hannah almost ran out the door as Wham’s “Last Christmas” came over the sound system. Landing with a thud, instead, she stalked over to the bar and ordered two double vodka tonics, downing one after the other, then grabbing a glass of egg nog from the punch bowl and liberally spiked it with rum. Pacing across the room, she saw Austin come down, her mind now racing to form an escape plan, only to disintegrate inside as she watched Sloan approach her, arm around an enthusiastically smiling Sara.

“Hannah, thank god you are all cleaned up, look who I found on the front doorstep?” 

Hannah inwardly groaned, as Sloan waved Austin over, continuing.

“Hey, why don’t we all go downstairs to the den? We might find some snow after all out here in sunny California…” Sloan snaked her other arm through Hannah’s as she tried to protest.

“Hey Sloan, Sara and I have to be some—"

“I don’t mind.” Sara chimed in. 

“Don’t be silly Han Han…. Austin, bring that hot bod over here…” Sloan commanded, leading them around the house to the downstairs den, a dark room with the largest TV in the world. 

No one was around, and Sloan plopped down on the couch, opening her purse to pull out a mirror and a small coin purse, from which emerged a little baggie of white powder. Expertly lining rails of coke, Sloan paused to look up. Austin slowly went over to join her, and Sara sat on her other side.

“Are you partaking Hannie?”

“Is everyone else?”

“Why not…” Sara sighed.

Austin eyes caught Hannah’s, as she nodded. “Then yes, please…”

“What’s with you Hannah, anyway?” Sloan mumbled, rolling up a $100 bill. 

“Hannah met someone last night…” Sara giggled.

“Really?” Sloan arched her eye brow, and snorted two lines, handing it to Austin, who shook his head slightly, muttering why not as he leaned in.

“I don’t really —“

“She really likes him…. What did you say? He was the sexiest guy you ever met? Ever?” 

Hannah shot Sara a dirty look, trying to communicate that she would kill her if she uttered one more word.

“What?”

Walking over, Hannah sat across them below the coffee table, taking two rails up the nose, sniffing hard as the taste hit the back of her throat. 

“I’m so happy for you Han Han…” Sloan turned to Austin, who coughed as she explained, “My cousin has dated some real losers….” 

“That’s not true…” Sara feebly added.

“What happened to Billy from last year?” Sloan asked.

Hannah responded through gritted teeth. “Billy is my very gay, very single, good friend.”

“Oh, well, we were all just glad that psychopath was out of the picture…”

“Psychopath?” Austin murmured. Hannah shot him the look of death, running her hand through her hair, tapping the mirror for Sloan to put more blow out. 

“Eddie.” Sara added, as Hannah formed the powder into more lines, and snorted. “He was the worst, I’m sorry Hannah, but he was.”

Sloan nodded, “Yeah, oh boy… what ever happened to him?”

“His band went on tour with Minor Threat and he cheated on me… what can I say, I seem to attract losers, gays and cheaters.” She raised her eyebrow, looking Austin straight in the eyes, and then stood up.

“So Han Han, still editing The Mickey Mouse Club …?” Sloan swiped more coke out with her finger, smearing it on the inside of her gums.

“I think she’s actually editing all the Disney original TV shows right now, right?” Sara tried to break the awkward silence following Sloan’s condescending tone.

“I think I’m gonna head out, Sara?” Hannah’s voice was curt, Sara nodded, and joined her, a bewildered look as she followed Hannah out to her car. Aunt Elaine never got a family photo that day, and Hannah filled in her friend as they drove to the bar and proceeded to get very, very, very drunk, swearing off men forever.

Forever lasted about five hours.

Hannah left her car in Westwood Village. The second thing she saw after she fell out of her cab, feeling her sheer black stockings rip, badly, as she stared at the pavement laughing at the cruel joke we call life, was a pair of white, leather dress oxfords at the base of white pants. Very similar to the ones Austin had been wearing earlier that day. She heard the cab door close, and an Austin-like voice ask what he owed, before strong hands came under her arm pits and tried to pull her up.

“Fuck off … I’ve got it all unner controllll” she rolled away, laying flat on her back, feet slumped over the curb. Austin walked between her knees, his cool eyes looked down at her.

“I told Sloan about last night.”

Hannah blinked, rolling up on her elbows.

“What? Why would Sloan tell you ’bout last night?”

“You are such an idiot.” Austin sighed, looking up at the stars, laughing to himself and shaking his head as he looked back down at Hannah, drunk, a confused expression hovering above the large Christmas sweater, black tights torn across both thighs, blue mini skirt askew. He mused to himself that it looked like two rats had fought in her hair. The ridiculous spectacle made his cock stir even more, he couldn’t explain why. “Give me your keys, we can talk upstairs.”

Hannah pushed herself up, swatting his hands away, then promptly dropping the keys as they came out of her pocket.

“You gave me bruises, ya know, gonna call you Bruiser…”

“What?” 

“Yeah… s’ its your hips…. Yer too fuckin’ skinny…. I’ve some light bruising on my ass, Ssssara confirmed this for me in the powder room at the skey lub.”

“Ski Club?”

“Klee Clunk”

“Oh, right, the Key Club… oh boy, how many places did you guys hit?”

“Ev’ry place…. And I can’t believe you gave me bruises with your stupid sharp skinny sips…”

“Ok, babe, duly noted.” Austin laughed, shaking his head further, grabbing her keys and sweeping Hannah over him as she started to stumble forward, carrying her up the stairs over his shoulder, getting her cleaning and falling asleep next to her for the second night in a row.

————

January 1988 - July 1989 

It started out casually enough, neither one wanting to ask the other what they were doing, avoiding talking about what this relationship was. In fact, they barely spoke for the first few months, their lips otherwise occupied as they were drawn to each other by the magnetic attraction that only grew in intensity each time they laid eyes on one another. On the first three dates, they couldn’t even get out the door before the graze of an arm over a chest or the kiss of lips saying hello on a cheek would become the catalyst for heaving, sweating, swearing, groaning, primal, squelching, slapping, bruising, choking, senseless, neighbors-banging-on-the ceiling, wall, floor, fucking. Usually followed by a session of panting on the bed, leather chair or kitchen floor, exhausted and conceding that they should just order delivery. And then commanding a repeat performance once their energy returned.

“So…” Austin moaned, in flagrante, after date number two had been derailed by Hannah’s fingers brushing lint off Austin’s sweater.  “Am I really the sexiest man you ever met?”

“Ughhh… shut the fuck up… I was hung over… clearly brain damaged from the alcohol… just be quiet and fuck me, you ugly sod …”

“If I’m so ugly, why’d ughhh… keep me around?”

“Imma a slut for uggos… you’re all so insecure you compensate with that tongue …. *moan*… its the low self esteem….  plus you got me hooked fucking me from behind… didn’t have to see that fucked up mug… ”

Every time Hannah sighed or looked at him with her big doe eyes, his lips would part in awe and his cock would propel him forward, his mouth seeking out her pleasure like a beacon being guided home. Finally they agreed they had to meet in public if they ever wanted to successfully leave her apartment, so he would pick her up at work and take her out, undeterred by her protests that it was too expensive as he arrived at the valet stand in front of Orcini’s, Chinois, The Ivy, her voice raising higher and higher as she argued In-N-Out was just as good.  Austin spent a lot of nights finding new ways to make Hannah’s Murphy bed creak before he found his own place on the Westside, and got settled in a small, modern rental up in the hills.

It was a day in late May, Hannah had just started working on her first feature as an assistant editor, when Austin proposed they stop using condoms. She was sitting on the marble counter of his house, eating chow mien out of the container in a Talking Heads tee-shirt. He was in his briefs. Both exhausted, he’d been shooting his second movie, playing Emilio Estevez’s  younger brother.

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else… are you?”

“Well,” Hannah fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, “I’m so busy wrapping this McTiernan picture I really haven’t had time to meet anyone else.”

“Is it any good? I can’t believe they cast Willis, he’s a TV star.”

“I love Moonlighting…”

“Still, is he believable as an action hero?”

“You’re just jealous…. “

Austin took the noodles out of her hand and pulled her into a kiss.

“OK, no more talking about other guys… what do you say? You’re on the pill now, right?”

Hannah nodded.

“OK, I’ll get tested…. You’ll get tested… And voila… ”

She kissed him as he lifted her up, legs wrapping around him while he carried her to the bed room.

Despite her misgivings, Hannah brought Austin out to Malibu for tea at her dad’s trailer. It was a Sunday afternoon, and her heart burst as she watched Austin engage with Avram, not hesitating to talk movies and nodding as her father explained his theories about film school, “waste of time, scholars never make good directors, they’ve got their heads in books,” how Mel Brooks was not funny, “but no one has the balls to tell him the truth.” Austin praised sound editing, particularly dialogue editing, as the most important and unappreciated part of making a movie. And he was particularly gracious every time he tried to tell her father he liked movie he’d worked on.

“Hannah told me you worked on Chinatown, it’s one of my favorite movies…”

“Ughhh, what an awful film,” Avi groaned, frowning, his British accent drew out every vowel. “It had real potential, but Polanksi can’t help himself.”

Hannah stifled her laughter, waggling her eyebrows at Austin as she went to get more biscuits. He jumped up, offering to bring the tea cups in.

“I’ve never met someone with so many strong opinions… about film… and I went to NYU… ”

“My father hates every movie, especially the ones he worked on. I can’t tell you how many times he dragged me out of a movie theatre to walk out of something 30 minutes in.”

“He does know that you and I majored in film, right? When he tells you it is stupid to study film?”

“Yes, he knows that one of us went to the best film school in the country —“

“And the other went to UCLA…” 

“Ha! …. But Austin, my dad started working in this industry when he was 16, a poor Jewish kid from London, he followed his brother and his career to another country, always having to learn on the job. Always having to prove him self, no one to support him. And then everything with my uncle… He is bitter about how the industry is changing, no one ever had to go to film school to break in until the ‘70s…. And in some ways, he’s right, imagine how much more experience we’d have if we hadn’t wasted four years in expensive classrooms…”

Austin introduced Hannah as his girlfriend for the first time at the after party for the Estevez movie premiere. His publicist, Min, was sweet to her face, though she had made Austin promise no public appearances together. He walked the red carpet alone, meeting Hannah inside, where he found Min smiling as Hannah relayed her own editing credits from the year, making a mental note to discuss publicity and relationships with Austin later. 

In their next meeting, Min explained. “You have the potential to be a leading man, Austin, trust me, you do not to be tied down… to an editor? No. Please, trust me, actors are always better dating other actors. Or super models. Or pop stars.”

He brushed it off, explaining it was his private life, and he knew what he was doing. A part of him wondered if being in a committed relationship was wise, fair, good for his career, but those doubts disappeared as he watched Hannah cum on his face the next morning, her dopey smiled sent sparks to stomach, and he pushed up to cover her plush, red lips with his, the taste of her pussy all over his face. Riding her to the hilt and exploding inside of her, Austin shouted “fuckkkk” in rhythm to the sounds of their flesh smacking, filling the empty hillside below his open bedroom window with vulgar noises. That was the day he told her he loved her, pussy drunk, blissed out, nuzzling together in the cosmic afterglow of energetic coitus, endorphins flooding their systems. Austin twisted her hair. 

“Hannah Hannah Bo Bana Banana nana … I think I love you.”

Turning, she kissed the side of his chest, her fingers trailing down his chest.

“I feel it too, Bruiser."

“You should move in.”

“Babe…”

“What? This is the first day we’ve spent together all week. You’re busy. I’m busy. So just move in already. Then at least we can do this everyday.”

But of course, they did not fuck everyday. They didn’t even see each other everyday. Some nights, Hannah would fall asleep on the cutting room floor working for a deadline. Austin had to go to Idaho to shoot a western, and he became close with his co-stars, Robert Downey Jr. and Kiefer Sutherland, returning to LA with a stronger proclivity for nose candy, taking the weeks in-between projects to join his newfound playmates on the club scene. He would call Hannah from the pay phone at whatever bar they went to, asking when she would be there. Telling her he found the perfect alley for their anniversary. Some nights she ventured out, Hannah had always enjoyed feeling music pound through her soul, but she found she didn’t just enjoy getting high every night and she needed the blow to stay up until 4 with them and get to work the next morning. And so, on many nights, Hannah would just collapse at home and wake as Austin came in.

She met his family, briefly, at Christmas 1988. Dinner was small, quiet, just Austin, his father and older sister Ashley in the large dining room of a large, stucco house in Anaheim. Hannah had foregone her usual thick eyeliner and studded black leather jacket, buying an outfit at JC Penneys and wearing her grandmother’s pearl necklace. She hated herself, as she looked in the mirror and asked her self, “Would Nancy Reagan approve?”

She burned the dress in July, as she packed her things and moved out of the Hollywood Hills house. The female voice on the other end of the phone line still reverberated through her head. Austin was shooting on location in Arizona, it was his second leading role.  At first Hannah had questioned whether the hotel operator had connected her to the right room when a women’s voice answered the phone. She paused, thinking carefully.

“Oh, hey, um… is Brian there?”

She could hear the shower running in the background, and then Austin’s distinct voice shout out.

“Don’t answer the phone!”

The mystery women giggled, then spoke into the receiver.

“Sorry, no Brian here, you must have the wrong number.”

“Oh, this isn’t room 335?”

“No, 334… Austin, don’t, you’re all wet!”

“I thought I said not to pick up the phone?”

There it was closer, deeper, in the midst of some sort of exertion, was he tickling her? Kissing her?

Hannah’s mind raced and her imagination ran wild as she listened to a commotion of fabric and limbs while the phone receiver dropped to the floor.

Muffled voices continued.

“It was for the room next door… why don’t you want me to pick up the phone?”

“Shut up, just promise me  -" more feminine giggling as he spoke … “you won’t, ok?”

Hannah hung up after that, adrenaline coursed through her veins, and a sharp, nervous ache ran up her tummy and settled at the top of her chest. Pacing through the living room, through the kitchen, and back again, she started shouting at herself.

“Fucking idiot, fucking actors, fucking Orange County, fucking Reagan, ugh, you fucking stupid cow… you can let this go.” She breathed. “You love him. You knew. This was bound to happen. If you were honest with yourself, you knew. You knew. You knew the minute he told you why he had moved out here. Any real relationship would be impossible. But no, you didn’t care, did you? It was fuuuuun. He was hooot. It felt goooood. Losers, gays and cheaters, Hannah. This is as good as it could ever be. You can push it down, smother it, kill your jealousy and take what he gives you.”

She slumped on the ground, banging her fists into the hard wood floor, seeking out it’s cold to temper the crazy, frenetic heat overtaking her body. Now, she was taking a shower, drinking a beer as the water pummeled down. Three beers later, cold, shivering in the empty bathtub, she had convinced herself to just pretend she didn’t know, act like nothing happened, you love him - that is all that matters. 

But then he called her later that night, whispering “Hey Hannah Banana,” into the phone as he always did, his gravelly confident voice exuding fidelity.  She wondered if this was even the first time, she couldn’t tell the difference. He had the same deep timbre, extolling honeyed devotion from Arizona as he told her about his day and laughed at her sarcastic jokes.

Hanging up, hate overtook her. She played with the idea of throwing his stupid record collection down the hill. Sitting in indecision for five days, she knew she had to make up her mind about what she would do. He was due to come home in a week. At night, she forced herself to picture him fucking someone else, an anonymous mystery woman didn’t seem real enough, so she pictured Sloan, sucking his dick, riding him on top, crying out his name as he devoured her pussy. Hannah was so anxious she could barely eat, subsisting on coffee and digestives for the next few days. Her whole body trembled through a meeting with the director Joel Schumacher,  and Mike, the supervising editor shifting to stare at her periodically and then cornering her to ask if she was ok.

So Hannah made up her mind and started to form a plan. She grieved, chain smoking on the bed, a bottle of vodka in her hand, listening to the mix she had made of The Cure, Depeche Mode, Joy Division, smiling as she stabbed out her cigarettes into the ground, ruining the hard wood floor, thinking of Austin loosing his security deposit. She continued playing stupid on the phone when Austin called, although more and more she let the message machine pick up, feigning a busy work schedule when they talked. She signed the lease on a a little studio in West LA, near Wilshire Boulevard, packed her shit and moved out. She cried as she burned all love notes, valentines, cards, mix tapes and photos of them together in the fireplace before she left. And the dress from Christmas, she would never try to be something she wasn’t for any man. Ever again.

It took Austin two days to notice she had moved out. He arrived home late on a Monday night, assuming Hannah was still at work, he passed out and slept until noon. The past month on location had been a blur. He had wanted Hannah to come with him, and was resentful at her and her career, because they only occasionally had breaks that overlapped. They’d been able to sneak away for a weekend in Cabo, a few days in Vancouver. But it would have been cool to have her keep him company on this shoot. He was busy filming, beginning almost every day at 6 a.m., but the cocaine helped, and he felt like a champion working through the day and going out at night with some of the other actors.  He convinced Bob Downey to come visit him when he had a weekend off,  they drove to the Grand Canyon together, and dropped acid, then missed their paid and scheduled guided tour and ended up laying on the hood of his Beamer gazing at the stars and pondering the meaning of life. 

On his first morning back in LA, Austin got dressed and drove out for meetings with his agent to discuss his the next project, calling home and Hannah’s work no avail trying to reach her. He ate dinner alone at the at Chateau Marmont bar on a whim, drinking a whiskey and talking with the bar tender for a while. He wasn’t famous, yet, not really, and he enjoyed the anonymity, although he nearly jumped out of his skin with joy when Demi Moore recognized him as she entered the restaurant with Bruce Willis. They’d met when she was dating Emilio Estevez, and Austin took the opportunity to gush to Willis about how much he loved Die Hard and how he always thought Willis had action star potential watching Moonlighting. Leaving the Chateau, Austin ended the night with a drive through Hollywood, listening to Genesis and U2 on his tape deck, before growing lonely at home and wondering where Hannah was. He called her work again with no luck, drank a half bottle of whiskey and passed out. It was the next morning, unpacking his suitcases from Arizona, that he noticed Hannah’s side of the closet was empty. Austin frantically walked through the house, opening dresser drawers, looking through the bathroom, checking to see if she had left a note on the fridge or any travel receipts at her desk. His first hope was that she’d gone on a spontaneous trip with friends. Or maybe out to visit her father for a few days. Austin’s heart sank when he saw the empty frames above the mantle, the specks of burnt cards and photos in the fireplace. He wasn’t sure how much she knew, or how she found out, but he punched the wall until his fists bleed, raging at himself for being so stupid, for getting carried away, for screwing around with one of the supporting actresses.

It hadn’t been the first time another actor had flirted with Austin. Indeed, flirting, pranks, late night philosophical discussions, it was all common practice between the crew and the talent, especially on location when the everyone lived at the same hotel. For a month. However, this had been the first time he had given into temptation. Kim was 20 years old, beautiful and carefree, with none of Hannah’s angst or deep insecurities, although he later realized there wasn’t much depth to her personality at all and he got bored. Quickly. In the beginning, it had been freeing and wonderful, even exciting, to explore and get to know a new female body, to end the loneliness he’d been enclosed in over the first week and a half in Arizona. Why did anyone live in the desert anyway? He asked himself as the dry heat hit his face every goddamn day. The way Kim had pursued him was also incredibly flattering. She waited for Austin by his trailer, caught his eye on set while she bite her lip, cornered him at the hotel bar, causing him to smile a mischievous knowing smile every time their eyes locked, to know she wanted him, to feel the power he held over her. It stroked his ego and poured gas onto the fire that would blow up his relationship with Hannah. The sex daze wore off after a week and he realized what a huge mistake he had made. They had nothing in common and it was increasingly annoying how she didn’t get any of his jokes, or slipped into a form of baby talk in bed that grated his nerves, especially when he was hung over. It was worse when Kim began holding his hand on set, probing him about the future, and looking at him impatiently as she talked about going to the premiere together. Like a man, Austin said nothing, and suffered through another ten days of mediocre sex and companionship with Kim before breaking things off the moment shooting concluded.

All of this flashed through Austin’s head as he drove to Hannah’s work, yelling at the receptionist who explained Hannah was not working on anything there, she’d finishing before deadline, and had no idea if Hannah was working somewhere else or coming back in the near future. Swearing under his breath, Austin walked back and forth in the parking lot, squeezing the bridge of his nose, palming his hand through his hair. He considered driving out to Malibu and shaking down Avi, but he couldn’t bare to look Hannah’s father in the eyes, afraid she had shared what had happened, or worse, hadn’t and he would have to explain why he had no idea where his girlfriend was. Racking his brain, he wasn’t sure what to do. He had met several of Hannah’s friends, but didn’t know their phone numbers. It was pure dumb luck that he happened be driving down Wilshire Boulevard in a daze and saw her small, blue Honda hatchback parked down one of the side streets. He immediately recognized the Dukakis 88 bumper sticker in exactly the same place he’d watched Hannah paste it as he teased her relentlessly with promises to cancel out her vote by pulling for Bush. Parking across the street, he sat waiting, unsure of his game plan, but unable to leave. He put the radio on and leaned back. Thrumming the steering wheel, he didn’t see her walk past his car from the apartment building behind him and frown as she recognized his profile. Movement on his periphery startled Austin, and he looked over his shoulder to see Hannah’s beautiful, heart shaped ass running slowly back up the block in low black heels. Springing into action, Austin ran after her, his Nikes and jeans giving him the advantage.

“Hannah! Hannah….” He caught up and blocked the sidewalk, panting deeply. “C’mon Hannah, I made a mistake… one mistake… haven’t you ever made a mistake while you were drunk?”

Crossing her arms, sighing, she resisted the urge slap him.

“Yes. Christmas Eve. 1987.”

Read Chapter Two Here

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added)

@woundmetender​

@powerofelvis​

@aconflagrationofmyown​

[aestheticorpsblog]

SasuSaku Music Oneshots Oneshots :)

1/?

“Happiness is a butterfly”

“Do you want me or do you not? I’ve heard one thing now I’m hearing another”

She didn't know where she and Sasuke stood. They stole feverish looks and touches. He acted in love with her alone but with others he dismissed her. He blurred the reality of the love she had always known. Hearing his voice saying she was nothing was a like a knife to her back.

“Dropped a pin to my parking spot. The bar was hot, it was 2 AM, it feels like summer”

She went to a bar. She was so disheveled in her views. Sasuke and her shared moments and stories that they did with no one else. They had something memorable. Hearing him say it was nothing was a type of pain Sakura has only felt twice in her life. The bar was searing as she danced her pain away with strangers. As she was about to kiss the handsome stranger she had been dancing with for the past fifteen minutes, a hand grabbed her. It was Naruto, he looked infuriated.

“What the fuck are you doing with Gaara Sakura? What about Sasuke” Naruto hissed at her.

“What about him? He’s a fucking dick.” Sakura slurred, drunk out of her mind. Naruto was confused, did they have a fight? There was no way Naruto was going to take her back to Sasuke in her state of intoxication. He flew her out and would go back to see her the following day, she left and there was no trace of her.

“Happiness is a butterfly. Try to catch it like every night escapes from my hands into the moonlight every day is a lullaby I hum it on the phone like every night And sing it for my babies on the tour life...”

‘She wasn't depressed’ she told herself. There was just no vibrancy on the Earth anymore. She danced and kissed more men than she could count. She stayed out late and hung out with the wrong crowd. She got a new boyfriend. He wasn't as handsome as Sasuke but he was gorgeous. He danced with her, gave her the world and so much more. It was a mortification when she found another girl's bra in his bed. She broke up with him and thought of the first time she met Sasuke.

“If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt? I'm already hurt if he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed, looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt. He's already hurt”

Sakura didn't have the best youth growing up. Neither did Sasuke. Meeting at their parent's receptions. He was 3 years her senior. She was 17 when she first met him. She thought he was beautiful. Not handsome, beautiful, his eyes showed emotions when his face was expressionless. They showed the pain and suffering he had gone through. Sakura didn't care when their parents discussed marriage with them. It was bound to happen. Sasuke would marry either Sakura or Karin- a girl from the Uzumaki clan. Sakura didn't care whether it was her or Karin. She just wanted to know him. The deeper him. The reason why his eyes were so pained and heavy.

“ I said, "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi" sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat”

It was officially two years since Sakura left her old life behind. She was now a rave girl. She drank and danced her nights away while saving lives during the day. She loved her life. It was perfect. It was in the second month of the year when she saw Sasuke again. She was so inebriated and she refused to speak to him. He found her but she didn't want to be found. He kept trying to talk to her and even called a taxi for her. She screamed at him to leave her alone. She tried walking but hurled. He sighed before giving her his sweatshirt. Leaving him in nothing but his shirt. The taxi came then and she gave up and got in. She wept her eyes out the minute Sasuke left her view. His eyes were duller, he looked paler and he had dark circles underneath his eyes. Why was he back?

{I just wanna dance with you

Hollywood and Vine, Black Rabbit in the alley

I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue

I just wanna dance with you

I just wanna dance with you

Baby, I just wanna dance (dance)

With you (dance)

Baby, I just wanna dance (dance)

With you

Left the canyon, drove to the club

I was one thing, now I'm being another

Go down to Sunset in the truck

I'll pick you up if you're in town on the corner

Ah ah}

It was always Sakura. Everything that happened between them wasn't anything. It meant the world to him, he only realized that once she ran away. He spent two years just looking for her and now he refused to let her go. He groveled and begged and apologized for everything. She refused him and went out with others to show him she moved on. He didn't give up. On her 29th Birthday, he gifted her a large bouquet. Red salvia. They meant that she was forever his. She threw them into the trash. He didn't stop. Every day for the next 1 month he gave her a bouquet. No notes but Sakura knew he had given the flowers. On the first of July, he showed up at her house and kissed her. She didn't kiss him back but invited him inside. She asked him why she should forgive him and he gave her one sentence in return.

“You are the happiness my butterflies try to chase.”

She told him about one date. One date she would go with him. Nothing else, nothing more.

“Happiness is a butterfly

We should catch it while dancing

I lose myself in the music, baby

Every day is a lullaby

Try to catch it like lightning

I sing it into my music,

I'm crazy

If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst

That could happen to a girl who's already hurt?

I'm already hurt

If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed

Looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt

He's already hurt

said, "don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi"

Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat

Ooh

I just wanna dance with you

Hollywood and Vine, Black Rabbit in the alley

I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue

I just wanna dance with you

I just wanna dance with you

Baby, I just wanna dance (dance)

With you (dance)

Baby, I just wanna dance (dance)

With you”

It took him a little over 6 months to convince her to start a relationship with him. He did everything for her. He was Sasuke and she was always his Sakura. Three years after they started dating, Sasuke proposed. She said yes. 5 years later they had two kids. Sarada and Sousuke.

Because she was Sakura. She was always Sakura and he was Sasuke. The only person made for her.

[slonekaru]

I posted 6,258 times in 2022

268 posts created (4%)

5,990 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@crazzzedope

@scarefox

@spicyvampire

@smittenskitten

@rocktheholygrail

I tagged 4,100 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#love in the air - 552 posts

#kinnporsche - 463 posts

#payurain - 298 posts

#boss chaikamon - 293 posts

#noeul nuttarat - 282 posts

#vegaspete - 258 posts

#zhang zhehan - 254 posts

#build jakapan - 221 posts

#bounprem - 221 posts

#between us the series - 207 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#i like to think in the boc kp universe since leather cuffs weren't used at the safe house they are vegas/petes choice for sexy fun times

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

You know I've seen a few posts on Porsche bring Pete to the bar so Vegas can speak to him. How this was the wrong thing to do, or how he's fallen into the moral grey area of being in the mafia as he is only thinking about himself and getting the info he wants from Vegas, but not thinking or caring about Petes' feelings/mental state.

But you know what, I'm going to give this one to Porsche. No doubt some people will disagree but I honestly thought Porsche added 2 plus 2 and actually got 4. And lets face it that is a miracle in itself with this series unless your name is Tankhun!

Why do I feel this way when others don't?

Porsche knows Pete's been with the minor family, despite Pete's denial. He also knows Vegas penchant for torture, that there is the first connection. He knows Vegas did this to Pete since Pete has turned up in the state he has.

And the way I read it he was watching Pete struggle with his emotions in that bathtub and recoginsed something in them. Because it wasn't that long ago Porsche was struggling with his own emotions when they were waring inside of him about the fact Kinn had sexually assaulted him when he was drugged vs the fact he was actually attracted to Kinn and did want something to happen, he just wasn't ready.

Also Porsche is completely familiar with Vegas's tactics by now, he knows Vegas uses emotional and sexual manipulation. Porsche was on the receiving end of that and he got a first-hand look at the outcome of it via Tawan. So it's not far-fetched that he makes connection 2, something emotional/sexual happened between Vegas and Pete.

How did him and Kinn move forward? Well, they talked it out. Sure they had to be handcuffed together and go trapsing through the woods, but that is how he settled his emotions and it wouldn't surprise me that in his mind Pete needs the same thing.

Cue a call between him and Vegas and Vegas 'requesting' to see Pete. Because that is the phrasing he used as Porsche was walking away from Vegas in the back alley of Hum, he had a request.

Porsche could have easily not brought Pete, he could have easily stuck to Petes' side and not allowed Vegas a chance to get near him. But as he said it was down to Vegas from there. And Pete is still a bodyguard and capable of defending himself (after all he was carrying and pulled the gun on Vegas).

Maybe Porsche decided this was the time for Pete to get that opportunity in a safe environment, where he could walk away if he didn't want to talk and it is away from the rest of the main family where Pete is trying to hide what happened to him.

And let's face it Porsche was right because Pete needed a genuine apology from Vegas, which he got. It's then up to him if he wants to accept.

So in summary it seemed like Porsche was hella perceptive and understanding of Petes' feelings. He actually cared a lot about helping Pete and is just worried about his friend.

208 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

#4

You know I thought this was innocent at first but then my brain went 'wait a minute!'

Is Noeul making a joke/alluding to the sex scene?!?!?! And Peat damn well knows it as well!

266 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#3

I can't believe Payu rocked up to Rains

Talked himself into the house

Got Rain half naked right under his moms nose

Charmed Rains mother over dinner

Made out with Rain in his childhood bedroom right under his moms nose again!

Somehow acquired Rains moms phone number while doing all the above

Called Rains mom to request Rain come over for a booty call!!!!

And got away with it all!

The Balls on this man! Capital B!

361 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

#2

No one: So Slone what were you doing when you found out the Queen had died?

Me: Watching a bratty baby sub getting railed for the first time by his newly acquired Dom. Why, what about you?

430 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Like I love the fact that out of all that has been happening in Kinnporsche there is a big chunk of the fandom obsessed with this guy

850 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

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