#I just miss smoking in my bed or just inside in general

[rosicheeks]

Ooo okay that makes sense, but be carefull miss !

Was this the same spot that insatiable cumming happened in the back seat the other day? 🤭

Shhhhhh

[wannabehockeygf]

Wild Side - Auston Matthews

“I learned to read between the lines,

You’re talking truths,

You’re talking lies.”

Summary: When you wake up in the bed of Toronto's most eligible bachelor, you decide to stick around. Pairing: Auston Matthews x fem! reader Word count: 6.5k Warnings: Talking about sex (oral, f and m receiving, and then regular p in v stuff) talking about general naughty things, William Nylander slander. Notes: - this is just a silly little idea dump bc I miss am34 and I wanted to write about him - briefly proof read. definitely not much.

he could definitely throw me around 🫶🏼

***

Your 9-to-5 job has conditioned you to enjoy the sweet luxury of sleeping in on the weekends, but today is an exception.

An alarm slices through the peaceful silence like a buzz saw, blaring that dreadful default 'radial' tone. Who even keeps that sound as their wake-up call anymore? Honestly, it feels like a war crime against your ears. Your brain is still a foggy mess, trying to piece together where you are, and why the hell that sound is assaulting you so early.

As the alarm continues its torturous duty, you catch a groan—deep, gravelly, and full of regret. Ah, the mystery man whose bed you seem to be occupying. Right. The events of last night are a bit of a blur, but you’re sure he’s equally as hungover, possibly even more so given how he seems to be wrestling his phone like it’s personally offended him.

The bed creaks in protest as he shifts his weight, and before you can even muster the will to open your eyes, you feel the prickle of his beard grazing your cheek as he leans over you. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice rough and tired, “I have to go. You can stay as long as you want, use my shower, sleep in my bed, whatever. Just… if you never want to see me again, I’ll be back by ten, so, you know, leave before then.”

His words drift into your consciousness like wisps of smoke, barely registering as you teeter on the edge of sleep. You give a noncommittal hum, a universal noise of “sure, whatever,” and within seconds, the rustling of clothes and the click of the door shutting have you sinking back into blissful oblivion. ***

A few hours later, you're jarred awake by something wet and warm on your face. "Ugh, what the…?" you mumble, peeling one eye open. A pair of big, soulful dog eyes meet yours, tongue lolling out in a doggy grin. It’s a doodle, of course—because why wouldn’t mystery man have an adorable dog to complete the fantasy?

You blink, taking in your surroundings. Yep, still in his bed. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to gather the scraps of last night. Your head throbs as you scan the room, landing on the trash can by the bedside table. The shiny foil wrapper inside it nearly makes you weep with relief. No walk of shame to the pharmacy for a Plan B today. Thank you, Past You, for at least being responsible in your drunken haze.

You quickly realize, however, that you’re stark naked, and the thought of shimmying back into that tiny dress from last night makes your skin crawl. But you also smell like a hot mess—a combination of sweat, alcohol, and, well, him. The allure of a hot shower becomes too tempting to resist.

You peel yourself out of bed and find the bathroom easily enough. It’s a shrine of white marble and fancy fixtures, the kind of bathroom that screams, “I have my life together!” You take a moment to gawk at the luxury before turning on the shower. The sight of separate bottles for shampoo and conditioner catches you off guard—this man clearly knows that 2-in-1 is a sin, even if his choice is Old Spice.

Post-shower, you wrap yourself in the first towel you find, not caring if it was used, and venture back into his room to find something more comfortable. You rummage through his dresser and pull out a soft, worn t-shirt emblazoned with ‘Toronto Maple Leafs’ in bold letters. "Of course," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "A sports bro."

Still, the shirt is cozy, and it smells like laundry detergent with a faint hint of his cologne—pleasantly masculine, and somehow comforting. You pull it over your head, feeling like you’ve just donned a uniform for a team you never asked to join.

The bedroom is surprisingly tidy, with only a few personal touches here and there. A photo on the nightstand catches your eye—mystery man and a bunch of other dudes, all grinning like they’ve just won the lottery. Everyone’s in matching jerseys, which only cements your suspicion that you’ve stumbled into the lair of a hardcore hockey fan.

You wander over to the window and pull back the curtains, and holy hell. The view hits you like a slap to the face. You’re at least thirty-five floors up, and the sprawling cityscape of Toronto unfolds beneath you like a living postcard. You’ve seen this city from above only once before—during that one awkward date at the CN Tower where the guy couldn’t stop talking about crypto.

Stepping over a pair of discarded sneakers, you make your way to the kitchen. The place is as sleek and modern as it gets—high ceilings, massive windows, and a panorama of the city that’s enough to make anyone feel on top of the world. The kitchen is stocked like a health nut’s paradise, with fresh produce that’s clearly more expensive than anything you’d buy on your budget.

The doodle, whose collar reads “Felix,” pads along beside you, tail wagging like he’s known you forever. You can’t help but smile at the little guy as he nudges your hand, begging for attention. You oblige with some ear scratches, mentally piecing together the night before. Bits of the club come back—flashes of lights, music pounding in your chest, and his smile as he approached you, confident but not cocky. Beyond that, though? Total blackout. Well, except for the hickeys he left all over you. Those are pretty memorable.

You open the fridge and see that it’s packed with enough gourmet ingredients to make a Michelin-star chef weep. Feeling oddly domestic, you decide to whip up a frittata—might as well enjoy a good meal while you’re here. The sound of eggs cracking against the bowl echoes in the otherwise quiet kitchen. You start humming to yourself, a random tune you can’t quite place, as you chop onions and bell peppers. Felix sits patiently at your feet, eyes locked on your every move.

The scent of sizzling veggies and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and for a moment, you almost forget you’re in some stranger’s kitchen. You sprinkle cheese over the frittata, watching it melt into gooey perfection, and slide it onto a plate with a flourish. Not bad, considering you’re technically trespassing.

Just as you’re about to dig in, the door clicks open, and you freeze.

There he is—mystery man in the flesh. His damp hair sticks out from under a backward baseball cap, and there’s a moment of surprise in his eyes when he sees you still there, wearing his shirt, barefoot in his kitchen. Felix, traitor that he is, bounds over to him like he’s just won the lottery.

“Well, good morning,” he says, his voice much steadier now than it was this morning. His eyes flick to the frittata, then back to you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Didn’t expect you to stick around. Smells good.”

You blink, trying to play it cool despite the sudden surge of self-consciousness. “Good morning,” you reply, suddenly aware of how oversized the shirt is on you. You fidget with the hem, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I… I can change if you want. I just—”

“Nah,” he interrupts, shaking his head with that same small smile. “It’s fine. Looks good on you.” He steps further into the room, his gaze lingering on yours, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken. Eventually, he cracks a smile, and of course his teeth are absolutely perfect. “You remember my name?” He teases.

Your brain scrambles like the eggs you’ve just made. His name? You mentally sift through the fog of last night, trying to unearth any trace of a name, but all that comes up is a blank slate. Not even a hint. Just those damn dimples and a very nice smile. Great. You’re in a stranger’s kitchen, in his shirt, cooking like it’s some kind of Sunday morning domestic bliss, and you can’t even remember his name.

Panic starts to bubble up in your chest. Okay, play it cool, you’ve got this. You give him a casual smile, one you hope doesn’t betray the sheer terror of your mental blankness. “Of course I remember,” you lie smoothly, buying yourself time to figure out the rest of this disaster. “How could I forget?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. Damn. His skepticism is written all over his face. The worst part? He doesn’t even seem mad. In fact, he looks more amused than anything else.

You internally curse yourself. Why does he have to be so annoyingly attractive even when he’s being condescending? You rack your brain for a strategy. Okay, think. Just ask him something that forces him to say his name. Maybe pretend like you don’t know how to spell it or something. But before you can settle on a plan, he’s already walking toward you, the smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ll give you a hint,” he says, leaning against the counter as he grabs a fork, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that’s both unnerving and somehow magnetic. “It starts with an A.”

Your heart nearly skips a beat. Oh, come on. Seriously? You already have one “A” name on the brain that you’ve been doing your best to avoid thinking about, especially given the current situation. As if things weren’t complicated enough.

“A?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady. The last thing you need is to accidentally call him by the wrong name. That would be worse than forgetting it altogether. You take a deep breath, your eyes scanning the room as if the answer might be written on the walls. Alex? Adam? Adrian? None of them feel quite right, and you can’t exactly ask without making things even more awkward.

He’s still watching you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “Yeah, A,” he says, popping a piece of the frittata into his mouth. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t remember. I know last night was... well, let’s just say, a lot of fun.”

You catch the teasing glint in his eyes, and it only makes your embarrassment worse. Seriously? You’re in his kitchen, in his clothes, with his dog, and now he’s throwing that kind of look at you? Not fair. But he’s right—last night was fun. Even if you can’t remember every detail, you’re pretty sure the highlights were worth it. The orgasms definitely were.

He’s still watching you, an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. Felix seems to sense your discomfort and nudges your leg, offering silent support—or maybe he just wants more ear scratches. Either way, you reach down to give him a quick pat, grateful for the distraction.

“Okay, fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’m terrible with names, and last night was… well, let’s just say it was memorable in a way that didn’t include name retention.”

He laughs, and it’s a deep, genuine sound that makes your heart skip a beat. Damn him and his stupidly charming laugh. “Fair enough,” he says, setting the fork down and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m Auston. Not exactly a tricky name to remember.”

Auston. Right. That actually fits him perfectly—a strong, solid name for a guy who looks like he could bench press you without breaking a sweat. You mentally kick yourself for not guessing that. But now that you’ve got his name, you feel a weird mix of relief and embarrassment. Relief because, well, now you can stop fumbling around, and embarrassment because he’s obviously been enjoying watching you squirm.

And… oh no, that’s why he looked familiar.

“Auston,” you repeat, trying to regain some semblance of cool. “Got it. I promise I’ll remember it from now on.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says with a wink, which only makes you feel more flustered. You’re not used to this—being the one who’s off-balance, caught off guard. Usually, you’re the one with the quick comebacks. But here you are, standing in this guy’s kitchen, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt, and suddenly you feel like you’ve lost control of the situation. And you hate it.

You lean against the counter, trying to look like you’re not still reeling from the fact that you spent the night with Auston. As in Auston Matthews, the hockey star whose name you’ve heard a thousand times but never in this particular context. Because, of course, the universe decided that you, who know absolutely nothing about hockey, would end up in the bed of one of its biggest names. And now, you’re standing here in his kitchen, pretending that you’re not about to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

"Cool," you say, aiming for nonchalance but landing somewhere closer to a faint wheeze. Your mind is scrambling, pulling together the shards of last night while also panicking over how you’re going to extricate yourself from this situation with some dignity intact. Because you? You’re supposed to have it together. This? This is decidedly not together.

Auston raises an eyebrow, clearly still amused. “You cook often?”

Damn it. Now you’ve trapped yourself in a conversation you don’t even want to have. Why does he have to keep talking to you like this? Couldn’t he just leave you to eat in peace? But no, he’s leaning against the counter, looking like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, and here you are, trying to maintain some semblance of cool while battling the remnants of a hangover.

You take a deep breath, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I cook. But, you know, only when I’m not nursing a headache the size of the CN Tower.” You give him a pointed look, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Auston nods, still smiling in that maddeningly charming way. “I think it’s good. Just make yourself at home—like I said, no rush to leave.”

You nod, muttering a vague “thanks” as you try to focus on your frittata. You’re halfway through a forkful when he speaks up again, completely disrupting your fragile sense of peace.

“So, you’re a hockey fan?”

Of course, you groan inwardly. Of course, he’d bring up hockey. You’re wearing his Maple Leafs shirt, after all. It’s practically an invitation for him to start grilling you about your favorite players and whatnot. And the last thing you want right now is to discuss sports, especially with a guy who plays and clearly has his life way more together than you do at this moment.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you reply, trying to keep it casual. You decide to leave out the part where you haven’t watched a game in about seven years, and your main association with hockey is… well, complicated. No need to drag your emotional baggage into this kitchen.

Auston’s eyes light up at your response, which only makes you feel more trapped. “Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite player?”

Abort, abort! This is a trap! Your mind screams at you. There’s no way out of this conversation that doesn’t end with you looking like an idiot, and you know it. But you also know that if you try to dodge the question, he’ll probably see right through it. He probably wants you to say his name, after all.

So you take a deep breath and go for the safest answer you can think of. “Oh, you know… I’m more of a team fan than a specific player fan.”

Nice save, you think to yourself, congratulating your brain for once.

But then, he grills you further. “Leafs?”

You can’t exactly tell him the truth, which is that your entire knowledge of the Leafs consists of whatever you picked up from your dad yelling at the TV during playoffs. Admitting you’re not a die-hard fan would feel like a betrayal of the shirt currently hanging off your shoulders, not to mention the fact that Auston probably expects you to know, well, him.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, your voice an octave higher than usual. Play it cool, play it cool. “Big fan. Love the Leafs.”

He nods, clearly satisfied, and for a brief moment, you think you might have dodged a bullet. But then he hits you with the follow-up. “Nice! Who’s your favorite player? Other than me, of course.” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself.

Of course he’d say that. You can’t tell if it’s charming or a little bit insufferable that he’s so confident. Either way, you’re trapped. There’s no way out of this conversation without revealing the gaping hole in your hockey knowledge. Your mind races as you try to come up with a name that won’t make you look like a total fraud.

“Uh, well,” you start, stalling for time. Just pick one, any name—just not a goalie. Or someone retired. Please, brain, I’m begging you.

Your internal Rolodex of hockey players, which you didn’t even know existed, spins furiously. You blurt out the first name that pops up, hoping for the best. “Nylander! William… Nylander. Love that guy.”

Your brain screeches to a halt as soon as the name leaves your mouth. Nylander? Really? Of all the names you could have picked, you went with the one guy on the team who has the kind of perfect hair that screams, “I have a daily five-step hair care routine.” This is a guy who, if he wasn’t playing hockey, would probably be modeling for some high-end Scandinavian fashion brand. And now, you’re committed.

Auston’s smirk widens, and you can tell he’s loving every second of this. “Nylander, huh?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Solid choice. Slick hands, good speed, and the guy’s got style. You got a thing for blondes, or is it just the way he plays?”

Oh, come on! You didn’t need this. Not now. Your face flushes, and you scramble to respond, praying that the ground will open up and swallow you whole. “If I had a thing for blondes, we wouldn’t have fucked last night.” You blurt out.

Auston was mid-chew, and the sharp inhale from your sudden statement caused him to choke on his food ever so slightly. Your eyes widen, and you immediately hit his back, “Fuck, you okay?” You question.

You slap Auston’s back a little harder than necessary, half out of panic and half out of sheer embarrassment. His shoulders jolt forward as he coughs, trying to recover from the food-turned-projectile incident you just caused. Great. As if your morning could get any more mortifying, now you’ve nearly killed a professional athlete in his own kitchen. 

“Sorry!” you squeak, retracting your hand as if his skin had suddenly turned red-hot. You’re positive your face is as crimson as the tomato you just diced for that frittata. Auston waves off your apology, his face still slightly red, though now it’s more from laughing than choking.

“Wow,” he says, his voice still raspy but amused. “That’s one way to answer a question.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a grin spreading across his face. “You know, you could’ve just said you liked his slapshot or something.”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off the embarrassment with crossing your arms defensively, but your heart is still pounding in your chest. “Well what do the other girls say?” You snap at him.

Auston’s eyes widen slightly, clearly caught off guard by your question. For a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, maybe? Amusement? You’re not sure, but whatever it is, it quickly disappears behind that infuriatingly confident smile of his.

“Well, believe it or not,” he begins, clearly enjoying himself a little too much, “I don’t really bring girls home all that often. You’re probably the first one in like, I dunno, a year and a half?”

Your arms are still crossed, but now you’re raising an eyebrow, trying to process what he just said. “A year and a half? You expect me to believe that?”

Auston shrugs, leaning back against the counter as if you’re discussing the weather and not his sex life. “I’m serious,” he says, and his face is earnest, though there’s still that infuriating smirk lingering at the edges. “I’m a busy guy. Hockey season, training, traveling… it doesn’t leave a lot of time for this.” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, and you feel your face heat up again.

You narrow your eyes, trying to gauge if he’s messing with you. Because come on. A guy like him? Good-looking, rich, famous? He’s probably got girls throwing themselves at him on the regular, and you’re supposed to believe he’s been celibate for eighteen months? But he doesn’t seem to be lying, and that makes you even more uncomfortable. Why would he say something like that unless he meant it?

“Okay, sure,” you say, trying to sound like you totally buy his story. “So, what made you break the streak for little old me?”

You’re aiming for sarcastic, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity there too. Because seriously, why you? You’re not exactly someone who gets tangled up with pro athletes. You’re not even sure how you got here, in his kitchen, trying to play it cool while your brain is still catching up with the fact that you’ve spent the night with Auston Matthews. It feels like some bizarre fever dream, one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready to wake up from.

Auston’s smirk softens into something a little more thoughtful, and he takes a moment before answering. “You were… different,” he says finally, and his tone is surprisingly sincere. “At the club, I mean. You weren’t like everyone else. I don’t know, it was refreshing. You didn’t care who I was; you just seemed like you were having fun.”

You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. Different? Refreshing? You’d spent most of the night trying not to think about work, trying to forget all the stress piling up in your life, and apparently, that had made you stand out in a sea of people who were probably all vying for his attention. You’re not sure whether to be flattered or embarrassed.

“Uh, thanks?” you say, the words coming out more like a question. You’re still not sure what to make of this whole situation. The conversation feels too real, too serious, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for that. You’d much rather keep things light and easy, like the frittata you’re desperately trying to finish before you lose your appetite from all this emotional whiplash.

He chuckles, sensing your discomfort, and the tension between you eases just a bit. “I’m just saying, it was nice. You’re nice.”

You give him a skeptical look. “Nice? You picked me up because I was nice? I thought guys like you went for, I don’t know, Instagram models or something.”

Auston laughs again, and it’s a genuine, warm sound that might be starting to get a little addictive. “Trust me, I’ve had enough of those,” he says, shaking his head. “They’re great for the public, but not so much for anything else. Most of them lack personality, it seems.”

Your mind is racing, trying to figure out where this conversation is headed and how the hell you’re supposed to navigate it. Did Auston Matthews just compliment you? And not in the generic, “You’re hot” kind of way but in a way that implies he actually noticed something about you beyond the surface? This is not how you expected your morning to go.

“Personality, huh?” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “So what, you’re saying I’m butt ugly and you just picked me because I wasn’t falling all over myself for you?”

On one hand, it’s kind of sweet that he’s noticed something beyond your looks (even if you’re still not entirely convinced that’s true). On the other hand… well, what does that say about your looks? It’s not like you have an inferiority complex or anything, but “different” isn’t exactly the adjective you’d use when dreaming about some star athlete sweeping you off your feet.

Auston seems to catch onto the shift in your mood because he leans in, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Okay, first of all, no one said anything about you being ugly,” he says, his voice a mix of teasing and reassurance. “And second, yes, I do like that you don’t kiss my ass.”

You bite your lip, feeling a little bit of that earlier bravado slipping away. “Yeah, but you implied it,” you mumble, crossing your arms again in a way that you hope comes off as nonchalant but probably just looks defensive.

He laughs, that warm, addictive sound filling the kitchen again. “Alright, fine, I’ll clarify. You’re not ugly. In fact, you’re pretty damn gorgeous, if you want my honest opinion. But what I meant was that you’ve got personality, too. You didn’t spend the whole night telling me how amazing I am, and that was a nice change.”

Your brain screeches to a halt again. Did he just… did he actually just call you gorgeous? And then follow it up by saying that you have personality? You’re not sure if you’re being flattered or subtly roasted, but either way, it’s throwing you for a loop.

“Interesting,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady even though you’re failing miserably, “So… what did I spend all night doing?” You end up squeaking out, genuinely curious because he probably remembers more than you.

You try to maintain your composure, but the combination of his proximity, that smirk, and the insinuation in his words has your mind spinning in a million different directions. Did you do something particularly embarrassing last night? Or worse, did you do something particularly memorable?

Auston smirks, leaning in slightly as if he’s about to let you in on some grand secret. His voice drops to a low, teasing murmur. “Before or after you begged me to bring you home with me?”

Begged him to bring you home? Really? Your brain feels like it’s running at double speed trying to recall any semblance of that night. All you remember is a whirlwind of cocktails and dancing, but nothing quite as explicit as Auston is suggesting.

“Well,” you start, your voice coming out a bit shaky, “I’m sure I wasn’t that bad.”

Auston chuckles, shaking his head with that infuriatingly handsome smirk. “Oh, trust me, you were memorable.” He leans back against the counter, looking like he’s about to settle in for a good story. “You spent a good part of the night dancing up against me, and then said if I took you home you’d ’rock my world.’”

Your brain screeches to a halt again. “I said that?” you ask, trying to mask your horror with a shaky laugh.

Auston nods, his grin widening. “Oh yeah. And when I did bring you here, you kept talking about how much you loved my beard, and how you wanted to know how it would feel against your—“

You cut him off, your face feeling like it's on fire. “Okay, okay! I get it. Let’s just… maybe not relive every detail of that night. My ego might not survive it.”

Auston laughs, a deep, infectious sound that seems to reverberate through the kitchen. “Fair enough. You definitely enjoyed it, though. And for what it’s worth, I had fun too.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, did you actually…“

Auston’s grin becomes more mischievous as he leans closer. “Mm-mhm,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “You seriously don’t remember? I had to hold you down because you couldn’t stay still. And when we got to the main event, I had to convince you that a condom was indeed important.”

Your brain feels like it's short-circuiting as Auston’s words sink in. Hold you down? Couldn’t stay still? A condom discussion? Scratch thanking yourself for being responsible, you’ve gotta thank him. Your cheeks are burning, and you can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or dig a hole in the kitchen floor and crawl into it. You knew you’d had a wild night, but this? This was a level of embarrassment you hadn’t even considered.

You’re trying to play it cool, but the way Auston’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he watches you squirm isn’t helping. He’s enjoying this way too much, and part of you wants to wipe that grin off his face… but the other part, the part that’s still processing the fact that you were the one who dragged him into bed, is kind of curious.

“So… what else did I say?” you manage to ask, your voice trembling just a bit, though you try to pass it off as nonchalant. You’re aiming for casual curiosity, but it’s coming out more like desperate need-to-know.

Auston raises an eyebrow, that damn smirk still plastered across his face. “Oh, you really wanna go there?” he teases, leaning in closer. His voice drops again, taking on that low, husky tone that you’re starting to realize could be very dangerous for your sanity. “Because I’m telling you, it wasn’t exactly PG-rated.”

Your stomach flips, both from the implications and from the way his breath brushes against your skin. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when the mental image of whatever the hell you said or did last night keeps flashing in your mind like a neon sign. You take a deep breath, mentally bracing yourself for whatever steamy details are about to spill from his lips.

“Alright, lay it on me,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel. “I’ve come this far, might as well hear the rest.”

Auston chuckles, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re squirming. “Okay, so after the whole beard thing—” he starts, and you wince, because of course, he wasn’t going to let that one go, “—you pretty much made it your mission to see if you could make me lose control.”

You blink, your mind stuttering over his words. “What? How?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the counter with a grin. “Let’s just say you have a very persuasive mouth.”

Your jaw drops, your brain reeling. Did he just—? Is he saying you—?

“Wait,” you stammer, your voice rising a few octaves. “I did what?”

Auston just grins, relishing your reaction. “You were very determined,” he says, his tone playful but with an edge that makes your stomach flip again. “And let’s just say, I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

You can feel your face burning, your mind scrambling to catch up. You want to deny it, to say that there’s no way you’d ever do something so bold, so out of character… but then again, you did wake up in his bed, so clearly, last night wasn’t exactly a typical night for you.

Your heart is racing, your thoughts a tangled mess of embarrassment, curiosity, and—if you’re honest with yourself—maybe just a little bit of pride. Because, okay, if you did all that, and he’s not running for the hills… maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think?

Or maybe it was, and he’s just too polite to say so.

“Okay, but what happened after?” you ask, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended. “Because there’s no way I was coherent enough to, you know, actually… follow through with all of that.”

Auston’s grin widens, and he steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “Oh, you followed through,” he says, his voice low and dripping with implication. “And then some.”

Your breath catches, a mix of anticipation and anxiety curling in your chest. “And then some?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. After the, uh, persuasive mouth routine, you decided to test just how good my endurance was.”

You swallow hard, your mind spinning with the possibilities of what that could mean. “And?” you ask, not sure if you really want to know but unable to stop yourself from asking anyway.

Auston chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. “And let’s just say, I passed with flying colors. You, on the other hand, needed a little extra… assistance.”

Your eyes widen, and a thousand thoughts race through your head all at once. Extra assistance? What the hell does that even mean? You open your mouth to ask, but Auston beats you to it, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers the next part.

“You couldn’t stay still,” he murmurs, his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “So I had to hold you down. You loved every second of it, too. Begged for more.”

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it, and you can feel your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something that makes your skin tingle and your pulse race. Did you really do that? Did you actually beg Auston Matthews, star athlete and professional heartthrob, to hold you down and… and…?

Before you can fully process that thought, Auston pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression softening just a bit. “Honestly, you were incredible,” he says, his voice sincere now, without any of the teasing edge it had before. “It wasn’t just about the sex. It was… you. You were present. Raw. Real.”

Incredible? Raw? Real? The words are reverberating in your mind, crashing against the mental walls you've built to keep your self-esteem from plummeting into the abyss of "Why did I say that?" and "How did I do that?" You're oscillating between sheer terror and a weird sort of pride, as you try to reconcile the version of yourself Auston’s describing with the version of you that prefers to binge-watch Netflix on Friday nights rather than seduce professional athletes with—what was it? Oh, right. Your “persuasive mouth.”

Incredible, though? Okay, you can work with that. Let’s not focus on the “holding you down” part because that’s a whole can of worms you’re not ready to open just yet. Your mind flits between horror and a sort of bemused acceptance that, yes, you apparently did beg for… more. What kind of ‘more’ are we talking about here? Maybe, just maybe, you’re the kind of person who, when sufficiently drunk and caught in the orbit of a hockey god, turns into some kind of sex goddess with a penchant for… what exactly? Testing endurance? Needing to be restrained? You’re not sure if you should be embarrassed or if you should just own this.

“So, let me get this straight,” you start, your voice shaking slightly, but you soldier on because if you’re going to crash and burn, you might as well do it spectacularly. “I was not only wild enough to require to be pinned down, but I also made a good impression?”

Auston’s grin widens at your question, a slow, mischievous smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Oh, you made more than a good impression,” he says, his voice dripping with that same mix of teasing and sincerity that’s been throwing you off balance all morning. “In fact, you’ve pretty much ruined me for anyone else. I don’t think I’ll ever look at another woman without wondering if she’s got half the fire you do.”

Your brain is officially short-circuiting. Ruined him? For anyone else? Is he serious, or is this just another layer of his expertly crafted charm offensive?

Auston, however, still seems to be thoroughly enjoying your inner turmoil. "Look, I get it. You're trying to piece together a wild night that seems a bit... out of character," he says, leaning back against the counter, still smirking that infuriatingly charming smirk. "But believe me, that’s not all I care about. I want to actually get to know you, if you’ll let me.”

Getting to know you? Seriously? You can’t help but replay the absurdity of the night in your head. You’ve just discovered that you have an unrecognized talent for aggressive persuasion and that you’ve apparently made such an impression that Auston Matthews—and his stupidly fitting moustache—wants to spend more time with you.

You try to keep your composure, but your brain’s still scrambling. “Oh, sure. Get to know me,” you say, your voice a tad too high-pitched for comfort. “Because nothing says ‘relationship material’ like getting tipsy, hitting on you, and then sucking you off the first moment I could.”

Auston’s chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh, the kind that makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson. The sound is surprisingly comforting, as if he's not just laughing at your expense but with you, which is oddly reassuring. You shift on your feet, trying to hide the fact that you’re still trying to process the avalanche of mortification and awkwardness that just buried you.

“Yeah, you’re really selling yourself short there,” He says, plainly, “If I only wanted that, I could’ve just stayed at the bar and picked someone who didn’t talk so much. But guess what?” He continues, taking a step closer and tilting your chin up with his finger so you’re looking right at him, “I didn’t. And you talk a lot, but so do I. That’s kind of perfect, no?”

You bite your lip, feeling a strange mix of flattery and disbelief. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, not sure if you’re ready to dive headfirst into whatever this is—or could be.

Auston’s smile softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sends a small jolt of warmth through you. “You don’t have to make any big decisions right now,” he says softly. “Just… think about it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his touch, makes you feel a little breathless. Maybe, just maybe, there’s more to this guy than just a famous name and a pretty face. And maybe, there’s more to this situation than just a one-night stand gone right or wrong.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Okay,” you finally say as a smile betrays your straight-faced expression. “I’ll think about it.”

Auston’s smile widens, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and letting out a chuckle. “Score. By the way, do you actually think Nylander is cute?”

[ken-dom]

March Magic

Holland March x afab!reader

4k words

∘₊✧ Summary: Three times Holland March couldn't get it up, and one time he could.

∘₊✧ Authors’s notes: I've missed Holland, but upon a rewatch of The Nice Guys, he crashed my doors down and proceeded to experience erectile dysfunction in my living room so. Here you have it. Thank you to the wonderful K for beta reading and being the best as usual!! The warnings are pretty wild on this one so... strap in.

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, erectile dysfunction, crying, passing out, smoking, oral sex, shotgun kissing (both the pussy and the mouth), mention of bee mating rituals/bee death, hand job, blow job, premature ejaculation, Holland having hyperspermia as usual, kind of established relationship, general wet cat pathetic energy

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

‘Mmh- I uh- I’ll be right back,’ Holland mumbled against your kiss-swollen lips, ‘wait there- don’t move-’

His body clumsily moved off the bed until he was stood, stooped over you with lips still attached to yours until you dropped back onto the bed and finally freed him.

‘Don’t be too long, sexy,’ you winked at him as he slinked off toward his adjoining bathroom, and he huffed a faux coy laugh.

What the fuck did he need to go to the bathroom for at this late stage? Maybe it’s where he keeps the condoms, you thought, relaxing against his luxuriously soft pillows. Makes sense, he probably hasn’t used one for a while, what would be the use of keeping them by the bed?

Meanwhile, Holland let out a long, steadying exhale. You hadn’t noticed. Jesus. How he’d got this far without you trying to grope him and realising what was going on (or not going on), he’d no idea, but he’d managed to distract you long enough by pressing his thigh between your legs while kissing you sloppily and needily, and you seemed to drink it up, moaning into his mouth and writhing against him.

Hell, he could feel your heat through his trousers and wondered with a smirk whether he’d need to get this suit dry cleaned and make up an excuse about the mysterious wet patch just above the knee.

Your fingers in his hair were sending shivers down his spine, and heat was pooling in his lower belly, and you kept breathing his name, and it was all so incredibly fucking hot, but for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge, his dick just wouldn’t respond.

He slipped into the bathroom and clicked the door shut behind him, collapsing against it and closing his eyes. He didn’t bother to switch on the light; he could feel the room spinning, he didn’t need to see it too.

His hand slid down over his flaccid cock, and for a moment, he thought, Pathetic, but then he tried to focus his thoughts back to you. Back to the way your body felt pressed against his, the way you uttered his name like a desperate, horny prayer, how good you’d feel when he finally managed to get it up and bury himself inside you.

He palmed himself over his trousers halfheartedly, knowing deep down it was a lost cause, and with his voice lower than a whisper, he uttered a shaky, ‘March, March, he’s our man! If he can’t do it, no one can. Maaaarch!’

Not even a twitch.

He slid down to the floor and sobbed, banging his head back against the door, and the darkened room turned suddenly darker.

Until the morning, when he found you asleep on the bed, clutching his pillow in lieu of the man himself.

****

‘Wanna taste you-’ Holland slurred against your throat. He wished he could smell you, smell the perfume he could taste, bitter against his tongue, but at least he could bury his face between your thighs and intoxicate himself in you that way.

There was also the small problem of his cock not playing ball again, despite tearing your clothes off, his hands exploring every inch of you, despite you telling him you needed him in that sultry, seductive voice that drove him wild.

He wasn’t going to leave you dissatisfied and alone again, no matter how far gone he was. Not this time. Come on, March.

He felt you nod, heard the desperation in your whine of agreement, and slipped lower, realising as he gripped your thighs to spread them apart that he still had an unlit cigarette propped between his fingers from when you’d kissed him while trying to light said cigarette. Who could blame you for getting distracted by those gorgeous, sparklingly sad eyes and pressing your lips to his instead?

‘Oh shit- give me a second-’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but as he moved to drop the cigarette, you grabbed and held his hands firmly against your thighs to stop him moving it away. When he looked up at you, questioning, you reached for the lighter on the nightstand and lit it for him.

‘Carry on,’ you smirked.

Holland swallowed hard. That was the hottest thing you’d ever done. Well, the second hottest, besides actually letting him eat you out whilst smoking, which was about to take first place.

‘Jesus…’

He took a long drag, partly a need, since he hadn’t smoked in a hot fifteen minutes, partly a show for you. He relished in the way you bit your lip as you watched his eyes sliding shut at the brief satisfaction at the nicotine hit. He exhaled slowly too, relishing in it as though it were giving him the pleasure he should be feeling from you.

Fuck. He shouldn't be focusing on that right now. He dragged a soft fingertip through your slick folds and felt you shudder. Taking another drag, he exhaled right at the moment he dove down to wrap his lips around your swollen clit, smoke spreading a tingling warmth around your exposed core.

Somewhere between lapping at your folds and devouring your clit, Holland realised he’d neglected his cigarette and the consequences could be… fuck, stop thinking- just-

Feeling your thighs clench around him, he half-reluctantly pulled back for another drag, and to flick some loose ash into the ashtray by the bed, and you whined in protest, already so close you could feel your bundle of nerves throbbing in the absence of his tongue. Holland sure worked fast, but he was easily distracted, too, and you couldn’t even blame him for this since this was technically your idea.

This time, as he exhaled, his tongue dipped inside, the smoke hot against your cooling slick as it swirled back out of your entrance and up around your folds, and, admiring the combination for moment, Holland licked a stripe right up to your clit to start right back where he’d left off.

He carefully slid a finger inside this time, too, surprisingly delicate in his movements as he beckoned, stroking that spot inside you that made your toes curl so precisely as his mouth took care of the rest.

Jesus, he sure knows his way around down there- 

‘Fuck- f-fuck- Holland-!’

Your climax was so close you could practically taste it, and so could he, but there was the small complication of his cigarette still burning by your thigh.

Hips rolling to rut against his tongue as he lapped eagerly, fingerfucking you with enthusiastic vigour, your back arched off the bed and your fingers found their way into his messy sun-kissed hair, and just as your breath turned ragged, he pulled away again for another nicotine hit.

Not only did he leave you exposed to the cold air without his mouth covering you, but his finger apparently couldn’t continue to fuck into you while he was focussing on the cigarette, either. He’d never been great at multitasking and obviously the Camel was just too delicious to try. Fucking hell.

‘Tease,’ you groaned weakly, and Holland, sobering slightly (only very slightly, and very, very briefly) finally realised what this was doing to you and shoved the end of the cigarette into the ashtray, diving back down to finish the job properly, almost choking on the combination of smoke and pussy in the process. God, it tasted incredible together and he was so into it that it took no time at all for you to get that simmering feeling right back.

He felt your orgasm approach, and then shake through your body, felt you turn limp after the high subsided, and carried on for a while, softer and slower, until your thighs were clamping around his head again with oversensitivity and he ate you like a man possessed once again.

Just as your second orgasm approached, Holland seemed to slow, so you jerked your hips to spur him on, but suddenly he felt heavier too, and when you called his name in frustration, he didn’t answer.

You guessed he’d finally passed out, and propped yourself up on your elbows. You inadvertently slid your folds over his handsome nose as you manoeuvred, gasping at the sensation which, although subtle, tipped you over the edge. Your breath caught and your blood boiled and every fibre of you trembled with pleasure you hadn’t expected. 

His finger, although still, was still firmly thrust inside you and your walls clenched hard around it as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from yelling out and waking him.

Jesus… I’m gonna have to ride that nose for real, you mused when your thoughts turned coherent again, and then you began the process of sliding out from beneath him and dragging his messy, half-dressed form further up the bed and onto his pillow for some rest.

You cleaned yourself up before sinking into bed beside him to sleep, but you left his moustache soaked with your essence. You knew it would drive him wild in the morning, and maybe it would be the push he needed to finally chase his own pleasure.

****

It wasn’t.

He woke to you suckling at his neck, your arm thrown around his waist from behind, fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers.

His head was pounding when he woke, and with just one eye half open, he turned into you, a big dumb smile pulling at his lips.

His lips felt dry so without even thinking he licked them, tasting you immediately and groaning.

‘You taste incredible, you know that?’ he croaked, your fingers now working on the button of his fly.

Holland had absolutely no recollection of how last night ended. He could taste you, sure, but he barely remembered how he’d ended up in bed with you this time. He was a detective after all, though, and what kind of lousy detective would wake up with their lover wrapped around them, fingers teasing at their belly, their taste fresh on his lips, and not put together that he must have spent some time downtown? 

And you did taste delicious. Fuck, he really wished he could smell you.

He wanted you. He needed you. Since the moment you’d laid eyes on one another. And right now, he was so thankful to wake up with you already trying to satisfy him despite what a mess he probably looked. And yet, as usual, he couldn’t perform. 

‘Wait-’ he breathed, hand flying down to wrap around your wrist and gently ease you out of his trousers before you actually felt how soft he was.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’

Holland’s eyes snapped shut, his hand dropping yours to press his fingers into his eyelids instead.

He knew this would be it. 

‘I- I can’t-’ he tried, gesturing vaguely to his cock. ‘It’s not your fault. I just- I can’t-’

He cut himself off with a dramatic, choked out sob, and scrambled for a cigarette on the nightstand. There was only an empty packet and he dropped himself back onto the bed, whimpering, shoulders shaking as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

‘Fuck! I’m pathetic, I’m-’

He felt the mattress bounce as you moved away and whimpered, knowing he’d likely never see you again.

He did, though. A split second later when you sat cross legged beside him and popped a cigarette between his lips, offering a light, which he gratefully accepted.

The first inhale relaxed him more than he could comprehend, and he shuffled up to sit against the headboard, trying to steady his breathing.

‘Thank you,’ he said huskily. He meant it as gratitude for not leaving, but you handing him a cigarette masked thay enough for him not to feel more pathetic than he already did.

You placed a hand on his thigh. It wasn’t suggestive of anything other than comfort, and he appreciated that.

‘Take your time, ok?’

His brow furrowed, but he nodded anyway. Why would you wait for him?

‘Besides, when you eat me out like that, I’m hardly in a rush,’ you smiled, playfully.

Holland managed a small smile at that too.

‘That’s the March Magic,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, so that’s what you call it?’

‘Call what?’

‘Shotgun kissing my-’ you pointed between your legs.

‘I did what?!’

‘You don’t remember? Jesus. It was good, anyway. You’re good, March. And I’m sure when you’re ready, your cock will be just as delicious.’ 

He turned weak at your choice of words, turning temporarily dizzy as you absentmindedly licked your lips.

‘Wanna kiss me? Just kissing. Nothing else this time, ok?’

He whined and nodded again, leaning forward to enjoy the most tender kiss he could remember since- well. For a while.

You could taste yourself on him, but not for long as your mouth filled with his second hand smoke and you choked a little. You kept your lips pressed to his, though, tongues sliding together sweetly, with no expectations beyond this simple affection.

You felt your own cheeks grow damp and knew he was crying again. But you didn’t stop. He needed this, you realised, and you were more than willing to give him whatever he needed right now.

‘March,’ you whispered when you eventually pulled back for breath.

‘Mmh?’

‘How about you get yourself cleaned up while I run out to grab us some lunch? I can run you a bath?’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Yeah that would be really fucking good actually.’

****

‘That one’s a keeper.’

‘Huh?’ March was trying to get to sleep, but his mind was whirring with thoughts of how you’d cared for him today.

How you’d washed his hair after he sunk into the warm water, covered by bubbles, laid him some fresh clothes out for him, shared a nice lunch together, and spent the afternoon watching a movie and laughing and kissing. 

He hadn’t thought about his little problem all night, and you were to thank for that. 

He was pretty sure he was falling in love actually, and his thoughts were so occupied with the joy and despair that came along with that old, familiar feeling reigniting inside him, that he couldn’t fall asleep. The fact that he’d barely drank a thing today probably contributed to that too.

Maybe he should-

‘Don’t even think about it.’

That voice again. Who the fuck-

Holland turned, frowning to find his old pal, Bumble wedged right between you and him, hogging the covers.

‘Bumble. What do you want?’

Bumble took a long drag of his cigarette. 

‘Listen, I’m telling you — that one’s a keeper.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I’ve been stuck on. You really think so?’

‘You can’t even fuck and you’ve got room service and cigarettes being lit for you and kisses on tap. Yeah I think so.’

‘That’s not why I lov- I mean-’

Bumble chuckled. Holland frowned.

‘You worked the March Magic, huh?’

‘How do you know about- what? No. I mean. I- yeah but that’s not-’

‘Look, March, when killer bees fuck, the bee with the dick usually dies. You get to cum and live to tell the tale! You’ll be fine. You just gotta relax.’

Holland felt hazy. This was almost too much information to take in. But he remembered the relaxing part. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. Just take it easy. Your dick’ll be hard in no time. Night.’ 

‘Night, Bumble. Thanks for the pep talk.’

Holland yawned, and Bumble was gone.

****

Holland shifted in the warmth of the morning light. Something was off.

He stretched his legs and rolled onto his back to look at you, see if you were awake yet, see if he could figure out why he felt kind of… weird.

You were sleeping soundly beside him, your arm still draped over his middle beneath the sheets. Nothing unusual there, over the last couple of months you’d come to stay over with him more nights than not when he wasn’t working a case, and even then he’d sometimes find you in his bed when he returned home, and thanks to this he’d actually slept in his bed instead of finding a spot somewhere he felt safe. You’d made bed safe. You’d made him feel safe.

He smiled at the thought, and tried to shift his focus onto this feeling he was trying to place. It must be early – he’d not woken up before 10am for as long as he could remember and the clock on the dresser said 08:07.

He propped himself up to take a look around the room and actually screamed when he saw the huge tent formed in the sheets between his legs.

Jaw dropping, Holland fell back onto his pillow, muttering wildly, ‘Am I dreaming? Jesus, am I actually hard? Is this real?!’ 

He poised his thumb and forefinger over his other forearm and laughed, loudly and heartily, pinching his arm so hard he hurt himself and let out a little yelp mid giggle. It was real! He was awake, and he was hard.

Head spinning, Holland called your name in an excited whisper at first, turning himself to lay face to face with you and careful not to accidentally prod you with his raging hard on. What a nice problem to have to worry about! He let out a little, ‘Ha!’ at the thought.

He called your name again, louder this time, gently gripping your shoulder in sheer excitement. He hadn’t even considered yet that you’d want to actually do anything with his boner. He was just so thrilled that his dick still worked, he wanted to share it with the whole world. There was even a fleeting moment that he considered calling Healy, but he shook the thought from his head and tried to focus.

When your eyes blinked open, although taken aback that he was awake before you, you automatically smiled at his gleeful face and leant forward to kiss him, but in the buzz of excitement, he completely missed his cue and rolled away to demonstrate the tent in the sheets once again.

‘Look! It works! Ha! It really works!’

‘Jesus…’ you breathed, propping yourself up to get a good look at the size of him. ‘Holland… that’s so great, baby, I knew you could do it!’

‘It’s all thanks to Bumble!’ he smiled like an idiot. You didn’t ask.

Giddy, you sang out his little mantra; ‘March, March, he’s our man! If he can’t do it no one can! Maaaarch-mmh!’

His lips joined with yours then, cutting you off until he pulled back to get another look at the magnificent sight of his dick in full working order.

‘Holland…’ you started, and he hummed in your direction. ‘May I… touch you?’

All of the breath seemed to exit his body like a juice box being crushed underfoot. He wheezed out a, ‘Yes- please!’ followed by a slightly more coherent, ‘Touch- lick- anything. Go nuts!’

You slipped your hand back to his stomach, gradually pushing lower until you reached the waistband of his pyjamas (another new development; he wasn’t sleeping in his suits nearly as much these days).

‘Holland, are you sure you’re ready?’

‘I’ve been ready for months,’ he sighed, ‘it’s just a shame my schwanz has taken this long to catch up. Listen, I-’

‘It’s alright,’ you stopped him, feeling his body tense up, knowing where his thoughts were going. ‘I know it might be… quick. I don’t mind. Actually it’s kind of hot…’

Holland relaxed. Jesus, why did you have to be so understanding – and in such a sexy way? It was jarring. It felt nice. It made him fall for you all the more, and knew then that Bumble had been right about you. Holland had no intention of losing you.

Your fingers ghosted over his tip, and your palm slid down to feel out the length of him before you wrapped your fingers carefully around the base and pumped slowly. You planned to learn his body like he was learning yours, to memorise every response your touch elicited, know every trick in the book to drive him wild.

You glanced up from the hypnotising view of your hand stroking him beneath the sheets to see his face already slack with pleasure, mouth agape and eyes shut in bliss. Jesus, he was receptive. Delicious.

You moved your hand up to swipe your thumb over the tip, and discovered that not only did it cause his hips to buck, but there was already a thick bead of precum waiting for you there. 

He was moaning almost nonstop at this point. Your fist moved faster and Holland began to writhe. Actually writhe beneath you – legs trembling, toes curling, didn’t have a clue what to do with his limbs, or his hands; other than try and grasp at the bedding.

‘Jesus! F-fuck! Oh!’ he cried, loud and desperate, and you were so tempted to bring him off like this, to pump him furiously until he stained the sheets, but equally you craved more.

You wouldn’t ever say this to him, but the thought wouldn’t leave you alone; what if he couldn’t get it up again for a good couple of months and you’d passed up the chance to taste him when it was given so beautifully to you? No. You had to grasp this opportunity with both hands. Or, as the case may be, with one hand and your mouth.

Keeping your movements steady, you shuffled down, pushing the covers lower, too, and got your first proper look at his hard cock. It was quite the sight; as long and thick as it felt, handsome, steadily leaking – fit to burst actually. 

You wasted no more time, carefully kissing his tip first, slowing your hand a little to test the waters without overwhelming him, and he whimpered so prettily you almost lost composure.

As your lips wrapped around his tip and you sank down lower, sucking, swirling your tongue, keeping your hand pumping fast where he wouldn’t fit, you suddenly felt bitter heat coating your tongue.

Not just coating your tongue, filling your mouth. You did your best to keep going, to suck and lap and massage him through his peak, but it wasn’t just his drawn out screech of pleasure that was distracting you, it was the amount of cum he was still spilling all the while. Despite swallowing down what you could of the never ending hot rope, choking a little on the sheer volume, it still dribbled out past your lips, dripping onto his legs and stomach and the surrounding sheets that he was balling into tight fists.

When you emerged from the mess to crawl up over him and check he was doing ok, you were faced with the most blissed out, fucked out, sated, dumb smile you’d ever seen on his handsome face. He’s never looked more peaceful, and, as much as your core was throbbing after what you’d just done, you wanted more than anything to let him rest.

So you did. You settled on his chest, not caring about the stickiness drying between your flush bodies or around your lips, and listened to his heart, steady in his chest.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered after a long pause. ‘That was- fuck…’

You smiled to yourself, sure that after so long, anything he could get would have felt incredible, but you still took a little pride in the fact that you were the one to experience it with him.

‘You want me to make breakfast?’ you offered gently.

‘I want you to be my breakfast, does that count?’ he smirked.

‘No, Holland, I just want you to enjoy the moment. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Oh, I’m not worried.’

Holland shifted beneath you and you felt the beginnings of another erection stiffening his cock.

Your eyes widened as his opened, and your gazes locked.

‘You fixed it.’

‘Holland, please,’ you laughed. ‘I did not fix your dick.’

‘Of course you did, it’s the only explanation! Anyway, look, do you want to fix its current problem?’ His hips thrust upwards to nudge his now rock hard cock against your thigh to make sure you felt it.

‘Holland, if you’re not fucking me the March way within the next minute, I’m out of here.’

He laughed again and it occurred to you that you’d never spoken to him this early, or heard him laugh so much in a morning.

‘The March way?’ he raised an amused eyebrow at you.

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’m hoping you’re about to show me.’

And show you, he most certainly did.

[mlmxreader]

Unexpected Guest | Tomas Vrbada x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Can I request one from Smoke with the prompts 7 and 16?? ❞

: ̗̀➛ it feels like you and your boyfriend never get any actual time together

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•─────────────────★•♛•★────────────────•

Tomas rarely got the chance to see you; between working to establish a new clan with his brother and attempting to juggle Johnny Cage and Kenshi and everyone else along with it, he rarely got the chance to actually be your partner and to be present.

He didn't mean to let you down so often, but it was difficult; of course, you understood more than anyone and you encouraged him to let you down if it meant that he could be there for his brother, especially.

You knew that the betrayal of Bi-Han still weighed heavily on his shoulders, you couldn't blame him. But things did get a little easier for you both when, after some pretty awful personal circumstances, you ended up moving in with Johnny Cage.

You were glad of it, really, and even agreed to work on Johnny's social media accounts when he asked you; you never expected him to be so generous, giving you a roof over your head, paying you a more than healthy wage for your time - even on days you didn't work, he still paid you - and letting you keep all your money.

No rent, no bills, no food and drinks to buy; you didn't have to worry about anything except Tomas.

You missed him, in all honesty, when he wasn't around. When he didn't call and text, you always wondered if you would get a call from Kuai Liang to say that something terrible had happened.

Yet tonight, as you sat on your bed with your earphones in, listening to 'The First Soldier' by Sabaton, you had an odd feeling; your window was wide open, big enough for Johnny to get through - as he had done before when he had forgotten his keys - and the rain had only just stopped.

You were all alone in the mansion, with Johnny out on a recent press tour for his latest film, and you couldn't sleep for some reason. Something deep inside your stomach had told you to stay awake, although you couldn't say why exactly. You figured it was probably just nerves at being left in charge of the entire property on your own.

But when you heard a scuffle, and what sounded like a grunt from your window, you froze; your shoulders became tense as you grabbed your phone and pulled up Kenshi's number. Your thumb trembling as you held it over the call button.

But then you caught a glimpse of silver hair as the sneaky phantom pulled itself through your window, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. Tossing your phone aside, you were quick to put your earphones away as you watched Tomas haul himself onto the bedroom floor with a firm thud.

He smiled when he stood, dusting himself off.

"I wasn't sure if the door was locked," he explained, his features all a dull pink, "and I wanted to surprise you." 

You couldn't help but to laugh softly, moving over on the bed slightly to make room for him; keeping your gaze on his frame as he kicked his shoes off and unzipped his hoodie, closing the window before he practically launched himself on the bed beside you and grabbed your laptop. Big grey eyes staring at you for a moment as he cleared his throat.

"Sorry if I scared you."

"You didn't," you reassured gently, leaning into his side and wrapping your arm around his tightly, your head on his shoulder. "You wanna stay the night?"

Tomas nodded, opening the laptop and shoving it onto your thighs. "If you'll let me?"

"Tomas…" you grumbled, grinning at him for a moment before shaking your head so fondly. "Of course I'll let you - it’s just an excuse for me to have an opportunity to show my feelings.”

Tomas was about to open his mouth and ask what you meant, when you moved the laptop aside and straddled his waist; he smiled as he chewed at the inside of his lip, the weight of your hands on his shoulders all too familiarly heavy as he let out a quiet sigh.

His hands settled on the sides of your thighs as he leaned into you slightly, hoping that you were thinking the same things that he was; his heart pounding in his chest.

Every kiss always felt like the first one, every date always felt like the first, and every time he stayed the night, he could have sworn that he had never done it before - but maybe that was more because of the frequent distance and the lack of contact.

The second that you leaned down slightly to kiss him, Tomas couldn’t bite back his grin as he eagerly kissed you back, groaning softly when your hand found its way to his hair, gripping the soft grey strands tightly to keep him close.

He almost didn’t want to pull away, but his chest began to feel hollow and tight, and he knew that he needed to take a breath; guilt washed over him when he broke the kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” you said softly, gently tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, Tomas.”

Tomas smiled, leaning into your touch when you gently rested your hand against his cheek, just shy of closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly. “I missed you, too… maybe one day, we’ll have time.”

“Time has never been on our side,” you told him quietly, shaking your head. “You know that.”

“But,” gently, he held your wrists, pinning your hands to his chest just above his heart. “We make it through, don’t we?”

“I suppose…”

“Just remember it’s for love,” Tomas gently pleaded. “Just… please, don’t give up on us.”

“Give up?” You scoffed, daring to laugh for a moment. “I’d never give up on us - you’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming and clawing at the floors and…”

“And?”

“I’m pretty sure you’d also have to deal with Johnny,” you joked. “He’s been rooting for us since day one.”

“So has Kuai Liang,” he admitted with a soft laugh. “So, what film did you have in mind?”

[ithebookhoarder]

Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍

Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing. 

Masterlist

You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life. 

It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick. 

The day had been bad for many reasons.

One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on. 

Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too. 

Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written. 

However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into. 

Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it. 

Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build. 

And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?” 

A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed. 

Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you. 

“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.” 

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.” 

“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth. 

The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace. 

You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through. 

It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately… 

Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much. 

Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night. 

It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you. 

You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of. 

Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person. 

Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat. 

It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.

Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like. 

Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.

The Colonel missed nothing.  

“You look like shit.”

Wow. Don’t beat around the bush. 

“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?” 

“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.  

“Good for her.”

“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.” 

You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?” 

He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.” 

You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.” 

“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”

“Yes.” 

“The anniversary is this week, is it not?” 

He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was. 

At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up. 

He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague. 

“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?” 

Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both. 

He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk. 

He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone. 

He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?

It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom. 

It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge. 

You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.  

“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?” 

Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ... 

“What?”

“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?” 

“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?” 

“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?” 

You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you. 

But you didn't stop.

You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe. 

When did it become so hard to breathe? 

When had the room become so small? 

Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible? 

It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead. 

The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them… 

It brought you to your knees. 

“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?” 

Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.

You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him. 

When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him. 

He knew that look. 

“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.” 

He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate. 

“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.

It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do. 

Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.

You were exhausted.

Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.

Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.

“T... thank you.”

You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.

No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.

So you sat. 

And smoked. 

And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.

Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose. 

He stood and offered you a hand. 

His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.” 

“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment. 

His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back. 

He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze. 

It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired. 

“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.” 

You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside. 

There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too - 

Wait, Connie?

You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home. 

You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills. 

To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders. 

It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea. 

They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place. 

Damn it.

You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news. 

If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them. 

They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired... 

Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall. 

You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on. 

“-called Javi- no reply.”

“Carillo - try again -”

“-worried about her - stressed.” 

Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.

"Sweetheart?"

You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.

"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.

Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.

“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”

Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms. 

The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself. 

“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”

And you believed him. 

"I love you, Javi. So much."

"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"

He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.

Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.

You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.  

It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.

Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...

He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.

But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.

So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.

He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation. 

He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you. 

Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.

[lil-quinnie]

part I part II part III

modern!gamer!Eddie x f!reader x neighbor!Steve

Warnings +18 : dom!eddie, switch!Steve, sub!reader, cursing, dirty talk, grinding, daddy kink, rimjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, little bit of degradation, anal play, threesome (MFM), angst,let me know if i missed something.

it's the first time i wrote any steddie interaction, hope you guys like it.

Word count: 6224

PLAY DIRTY

Eddie was sitting in front of the computer with a frown on his face, the only movement he made was scrolling his finger on the mouse, reading each and every disgusting comment that appeared in a video that strangely, he hadn't posted. The blue light bothered the eyes of the newly awakened Eddie, a large cup of black coffee (without sugar) in one hand, the cigarette in the other while the boy watched attentively each thrust that your tongue gave in his ass, he definitely didn't post this.

Every moan that came out of your mouth while playing with his ass made his cock harder, making him feel the visible tent that formed inside his black boxers.

Eddie had even forgotten why he was so mad at you, until he remembered the comments.

"mommy? what a joke"

"Eddie, who's the bitch now?"

"I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"

Oh! boy. Eddie was angry, smoke was coming out of his head. It's one thing to be exposed and become acclaimed, it's another to become a joke. He felt exposed and attacked by the one he trusted the most, you. even knowing that he had started this war.

You, like every Saturday, abused your hours in bed since there was no commitment or task to be done. You got out of bed around 2pm, strangely Eddie wasn't home, "weird" you thought. You started to open the curtains and windows letting the warm sunlight illuminate the entire kitchen and living room area. Still wearing Eddie's old Hellfire T-shirt, you put on your earpods and chose your favorite playlist, jumping up and down and dancing around the room as you sorted everything into place, trying to make the room as comfortable as possible so that when your boyfriend arrived he could give all the attention you've been craving for weeks.

You poured a generous dose of whiskey into your favorite glass, sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. Listening to music and watching the street go by, every time you close your eyes, flashes of last night flashed back into your mind, of how loving and romantic Eddie was with you even after you abused him, not just his body but his trust too. You knew it was the last peaceful moment you'd ever have, when you heard the boots tapping against the hardwood floor and the keys tapping nervously against the doorknob, yeah! you were fucked and you knew it.

Eddie opened the door and already machine-gunned you with his gaze, you felt cold from your belly, making you sigh as the boy approached you.

"Good morning baby, I woke up and you weren't anywhere, I missed you." you placed a light kiss on the motionless boy's lips

He pulled you out of your seat and dragged you to the sofa, throwing you on it, causing the drink glass to fly across the room, scattering the shards of your favorite glass on the floor.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he looked down on you, as if you had committed a crime..

"The same as you when you did the same thing to me." you attacked him back, standing in front of him. "Or only you can have fun at my expense?" 

you tried to get past him you tried to walk past him but he held your wrist tightly 

"Do you know what people are calling me on the internet right now, my love?" 

he pulled you against his chest, lifting your chin with one finger, his eyes could burn holes into your skin with so much anger you could feel it radiating off of Eddie.

"It wasn't enough for me to be the freak,now I'm also the mama's boy, cool huh?".

You stared at him for a moment longer until your eyes were filled with blinding rage, you ripped your wrist from the boy's grip

“You can't be mama's boy but I can be the bitch?" 

you push him across the chest 

"A sex toy, cum dump?" 

you pushed again 

"I can be bitten, tied up..." you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat 

"You showed me like I was an animal ready for slaughter, you let them see everything only you should see , so, what was I thinking? asshole."

Eddie knew you were right, but he wasn't going to let you off the hook, he wanted you to feel the way he was feeling right now.

"You're going to have to make it up to me for this, you know that?" he said taking his car keys and wallet, putting everything inside his back pockets

"Make it up to you? what do you mean?" you crossed your arms against your chest and didn't let your gaze stray from eddie's

"Yeah, make it up to me. I can't go out like a mama's boy, and if you don't want to be exposed like a...cum dump, I'll find someone who does, and I'll bring them over here." he moved frighteningly close to you, you could feel his warm breath in your ear

"You can participate or not, it's up to you" The malicious smile that formed on Eddie's lips was palpable just by the tone of his voice.

You still hadn't processed what your boyfriend had whispered in your ear and when you realized it, he was already making his way to the door, when you decided to throw the empty whiskey bottle next to him. 

"You don't even dream of shit like that, Munson. If you bring someone into this apartment you'll have to deal with the consequences, without whimpering like, like a mama's boy" now it was your turn to smirk.

"We'll see"

 was all he said before opening the door and walking to the building's entrance, being pushed by the encouragement "FUCK YOU MUNSON" that came out of the deepest air you had in your lung.

You took the expensive whiskey that Eddie hid in the room and didn't care about the glasses, you downed long gulps straight from the neck, so numb with everything that was happening that you barely felt the woody taste of the drink and not even the burning that always followed of goals, nothing. 

You skirted around the shards of glass, now all strewn across the living room that you had just tidied up to spend the rest of the weekend in your loved one's arms, but instead…

"You didn't even try to protect me from the mean comments" you whispered to yourself, sipping your drink.

All Steve could hear through the thin walls of his apartment was the huge fight between his neighbor and her boyfriend.

It was a tangle of sounds, between screams, clapping hands and sarcastic laughs. Steve knew that Eddie wasn't a person with the cleanest vocabulary and he was surprised to find that you weren't far behind, such a pretty mouth spewing all kinds of bad words at Eddie.

The sound of breaking glass caused the entire floor to go silent, Steve could hear your shuddering breath and Eddie's breath was weak, almost inaudible.

The boy's heavy boots caused the old wooden floor to creak, a loud slam as the door shut, and the man's step lowered as he made his way out of the building.

Steve looking at the computer screen with the comments page still open, the red sign on the screen showed that Eddie was no longer online, but the comments that made the guy lose his sanity were still on the screen, Steve's was still on the screen.

"kngstv: I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"

Steve wasn't stupid, he knew what  Eddie had been doing for a while. Not only did he know, but he closely followed every new interaction in front of the camera.

It started with the first audio that Eddie purposely leaked of you guys having sex, Steve would listen to the audio over and over again, several nights of stroking his dick imagining both neighbors on their knees for him, he had memorized some lines from the audio and knew what was the right point that he wanted to reach his orgasm, the sound of your moans with Eddie's made Steve come harder each time.

When Eddie’s first live stream was recorded without authorization and shared by all social networks, Steve knew it was you, not because of your body, nor of Eddie's tattoos or long hair, it was because of your moans and the guttural pleasure that you released at every praise eddie’s give to you. He heard these moans for months by now,living wall to wall with you, he knows every type of sound you can make on bed.

Steve had some privileges now that he was your neighbor. He knew what the fight was about, he knew your side of the story and he knew your boyfriend's side. He knew you weren't going to accept the attitude Eddie was putting and he knew Eddie was too scared to actually choose another girl, and Steve  can't let the both of the hottest people he knows broke up. Not before he tasted you two together.

The loud knocking on your door brought your head out of the cycle of sadness, opening the door just a crack you saw your neighbor standing in the doorway, playing with his perfect hair, "he probably heard the fight" you think, opening the door the rest of the way , Steve smiled at you, causing you to let your guard down

"Hi pretty, is everything okay over here?" Steve said looking over your head, seeing glass everywhere "Holy shit, are you alright?" he said walking past you "Shit honey! Why are you barefoot?"

You looked down at your feet and a cry escaped "I-I don't know, I'm sorry"

"It's ok, c-come here, come on pretty girl, jump on my lap" and with that your legs circled Steve's body, until he carefully placed you on the couch. 

"So, do you want to talk about what happened?"

Steve started to collect the broken glass while you sipped your drink in silence, your eyes not leaving the half-empty glass.

"I did a bad thing to Eddie and now he wants to do an even worse thing to me" You sighed deeply and downed the rest of your drink. "I'm so tired of this internet thing, and views and likes, it's all bullshit."

Steve sat beside you, his warm palm resting against your bare thigh, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry honey, but what does the internet have to do with Eddie breaking everything? I don't understand"

"Actually, I was the one who broke it, I was so mad I didn't even notice when it flew out of my hand."

Steve shook his head, picking up the last pieces of glass.

 "What a bad girl, Eddie should punish you for that, you know?",

 "No-no sir, I'm a good girl" You covered your mouth with both hands as soon as the sentence left your mouth.

Steve smirked and nodded "Then get a box so we can put all this glass, okay little girl?" You shook your head and went into the bedroom looking for a box.

Steve took advantage of your departure and ran to Eddie's desktop, thanking God that the boy saved his passwords, quickly logging into his twitch account, starting the live show, turning off the monitor and returning to his place, broom in hand .

"Here Stebie" You handed the box to the man and sat back down on the sofa, holding a glass of whiskey for him.

"What happened to 'sir'?" he laughs slyly and your cheeks start to turn red.

He put the trash in the corner and sat beside you, his fingers brushing yours as he took the glass, his body turned to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch and his free hand playing with a lock of your hair.

"So what was the fight about?" he asked quietly, still winding his own finger around your hair.

"It's stupid, Eddie can be so mean sometimes" you didn't mean to, but a pout formed on your lips.

"Don't be spoiled, pretty girl, Eddie treats you really well too."

 "I know" you said more to yourself

"What did he ask that made you so mad?"

"He, he said that he would find someone to bring home, whether I liked it or not, and that if I wanted to I could participate" your  eyes were filled with tears, when Steve's hands went to your face, holding it tight . Steve's thumb traced the path of your tear, down to your soft cheeks to your  cupid's bow, skirting your lips.

"Someone, huh?" Steve's voice was soft like velvet in your ear. "Didn't he say who? Was it a girl or a boy?" Steve's thumb is contouring your bottom lip now, pulling and pressing your fleshy lip, causing your mouth to be slightly open.

His thumb slowly entering your mouth, resting on your tongue, making you take a deeper breath "good girl" he he said taking his finger out of your mouth and smearing saliva across all your mouth "good fucking girl". he whispered, looking at you with pure lust and desire.

Looking at lover’s lake while smoking a joint, Eddie needed to get his head together before he came home and apologized to you. 30 minutes had already passed, he knew that was enough time to have you in agony, that was enough for today, he thought.

Getting into the van, he lit a cigarette and took out his cell phone. The device was hot with so many comments on twitch, on the videos page... and a small live signal appeared in the corner of the screen.

Eddie felt an icy shiver run down his spine, it felt like there wasn't enough air in the world to make Eddie breathe right now, seeing you sitting on the couch with none other than King Steve, who tormented Eddie for years, playing with a soft lock of your hair.

Eddie stood still watching the interaction, Steve knew what he was doing, he knew he was going to break your armor soon, he knew that Eddie was probably watching and going home and he knew that few options were left for the metalhead. Either he plays Steve's game or he's going to continue being a cuckold mama's boy.

The stream chat beeped more and more, causing Eddie's phone to keep vibrating,

"Does Eddie know or is he a cuckold?",

"They are going to fuck this bitch together, i’m telling."

“She’s a fucking whore, wanna taste too”

Eddie was fucked, he knew his only way out now was to carry on with whatever he caught Steve doing to you, damn Harington! he couldn't let the freak get better of him.

You were huddled in almost Steve's lap, while Steve's hands caressed all the exposed skin on your body, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, squeezing your waist tighter, making you bite your lip, trying to suppress the tears.

The sound of the key turning inside the bolt echoed through the apartment, causing Steve's whispers to stop. He could feel your body tense in his lap, and with a few tight squeezes around your waist, he tried to give you some reassurance, even though he was also terrified.

"Well, well, well... If it isn't Mr. King Steve" Eddie stopped with his arms crossed, watching the scene, your body wrapped around Steve's, his hand on your bare skin. It was possible to hear Eddie's teeth grinding so hard his bite was making his heart race.

Eddie walked over calmly and sat next to you and Steve, making himself comfortable. He pushed the hair out of your face, staring at your glossy eyes and with a strong grip, pulled your face against his, forcing your lips to his. His tongue invaded your mouth, licking and nipping in a desperate kiss, wanting to show everyone who you belonged to, who owned you.

"I told you that you could choose whether or not to participate with the other person," Eddie said, holding your face tightly, biting your lip. "But it looks like you chose to participate, and choose even the person, doesn't it! you little whore?" 

Eddie slapped you across the face, making your ear ring "I asked you a question, slut" his free hand went to your neck, squeezing hard "yes" you said between ragged breaths.

"Good". he said nonchalantly.

Eddie looked at you with disdain and turned his gaze to the other man 

"Are you in, King Steve?"

"yeah, yeah! of course I'm in" Steve said, putting you on the couch and standing next to Eddie, both of their backs facing away from the webcam.

"I know you planned this, you asshole. And as soon as this shit is over, I'm going to beat the shit out of you" Eddie snapped at Steve, who in turn could only smirk.

"Here are the rules, you're only going to do what I let you do. You gotta ask me to and if I let you, you do it.” Eddie smirks to Steve, “ you gotta do it right, ok big boy?"

"r-right" Steve now understood why you called him daddy, something about the man's bossy tone made Steve's dick tremble inside his boxers.

"Hey! lil princess. Stand up and let Steve take all your clothes off, shall you?"

 Eddie demanded, sitting back in his gaming chair. He could see the shame and fear in your eyes and it turned him on even more. "I don't like to repeat what I said."

You stood up and shivered as you felt Steve's warm hands on the hem of your shirt

 "But E-eddie I don't think..." You were cut off, by eddie's hand slamming against your cheek again 

"Disgusting.bitches.like you.don't.speak." he said cupping your face, squeezing so hard your  lips were half parted. "Open your mouth, bitch, open your mouth wide for me,yeah,that’s it” a globe of saliva travels from eddies mouth to yours “good fucking job, that’s a good girl, swallow it for us babe." Eddie wiped the corners of your mouth while returning to his place.

"Kiss her Stevie” he said mockingly “I want you to taste me in her mouth so you don't forget who she belongs to." Steve's hands were already on your face and his lips were pressed against yours, tongue kissing you, he moaned into your mouth as he felt the taste of Eddie on your tongue, making his cock press against the zipper of his pants.

Your body rubbing against the boy's, causing his hands to squeeze the fat of your ass, eliciting moans from your pretty mouth

"mhm, fuck Stevie, I can feel your cock on my thigh, it's so... big" you meowled. 

Steve and Eddie groaned together hearing your words, pressing harder his body into yours.

"Now take her clothes off big boy, nothing you haven't already seen" he said, you could feel the evil on his voice, making your face burn with embarrassment.

Steve took off your T-shirt slowly through your body, fingertips teasing your warm skin, leaving your two peaked nipples on display for the two men in front of you.

"Go on, you can touch them Harrington” Eddie said with his low voice, “this slut begging for it, beg slut, beg him to touch you."

"please please Steve touch me.” your eyes pleading to steve touch you “I've been a good girl Steve! I've been a good girl sir! touch me please" you almost cry at the boy.

"Such a fucking good girl, so obedient, so good for us! Can I touch her Eds?"

Eddie just nodded as he felt himself through his pants, letting a low moan escape when he saw Steve's lips connecting with your nipple. You squirmed each time Steve bit down on your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. His mouth bit and left little marks all around your breast, making you moan louder and louder.

"I bet you're wet” Eddie said, palming his dick through his pants, “you're so dumb when you're horny, a whore for any attention”he said, approaching you,He cupped your face gently, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, he connected his forehead with your, looking into your eyes.

"Are you okay princess?" he whispered just for you to hear, his gentle eyes searching in your beautiful face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, you just nod.

“Put your hand on her pussy, see how wet she is for us, king steve." Eddie turned his eyes to Steve’s, smirking at him.

Steve's fingers made their way down your body, past the waistband of your panties, fingertips playing with your pubic hair, lightly brushing your clit, causing you to gasp.

Steve's free hand held you still by your waist, his fingertips circling your entrance now, collecting all your arousal, lubricating his middle finger, your arms round Steve’s neck, his chest pressed at your back, hairchest tickling your skin, your tities full displayed for eddie, and Steve pushing his finger into your tight pussy, slowly, so slowly.

So slowly that you started to press your pussy against his fist.

"Greddy" Steve said pulling his finger out of you completely “greddy sluts don't get nothing, princess" he said, pulling away from you and standing up, adjusting his cock, so hard it was throbbing.

"Not to mention, that  Daddy said I need to ask him to touch you"

Something about hearing King Steve call Eddie daddy made him groan and drop his head back. "Fuck" Eddie huffed, getting up from his chair, his hand gripping Steve’s hair, noses almost bumping “what you did you call me, big boy?” Eddie said, almost sighing staring at Steve's delicious lips. “Daddy” Steve's voice was small,eyes never living Eddie’s gaze, he licked his lips and Eddie took it as an invitation.

The kiss was brutal,fighting for dominance, tongue and lips, moans and whimpers, Steve’s hands gripping at the hem of Eddie’s shirt, almost ripping it from your boyfriend’s body. Steve’s mouth traveled from Eddie’s lips, to his neck until his nipple, sucking and giving it cat licks, making Eddie moan and chuckles “Greddy tonight, aren’t we?” moving away from Steve and sitting across both of you, “C’mom big boy, make daddy proud” pointing at you with head.

Steve knelt in front of you, running his hands along the length of your leg, Eddie put his hand on the boy's chin, turning his face to his "but be a good boy and don't let her come, ok handsome?". Steve gasps at the pierced look on Eddie's face “o-ok daddy, i’ll be your good boy”, eddie only gives him a smirk.

The pain in Steve's dick was so bad that he had to unbutton his pants, trying to relieve the pressure, Eddie's gaze was glued to the outline of Steve's dick in his white underwear, he could see the small stain of pre-cum In the see-through underwear, leaving the pink tip of Steve showing, Eddie bit his lip.

"s-sir" you broke the boy's trance. 

"Oh, poor thing, you kept her waiting, Harington, I wonder why…" Eddie's hand squeezed Steve's shoulder lightly

"Come on little girl, what were you going to say?” Eddie proceeded. 

"mhm” you nod “thanks daddy. I wanted to ask ‘sir’ to take your shirt off, please".

Steve didn't wait for another word, he ripped off his shirt with one hand and with the other he already grabbed the waistband of your panties, pulling them by your leg and throwing them in some corner of the room. Sinking his face into your pussy, Steve suckled you like a starving man, licking and sucking your clit, his fingers circled your entrance, thrusting into your tight little hole all at once, you cried at the curved movement of Steve's fingers , hitting the right place. The pressure of his lips around your clit making your back arch, Steve increased the speed of the thrusts, making you moan pornographicly, he could have sworn it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Nice, huh?" Eddie bragged, "y-yeah! she's perfect, mean, she sounds perfect". Steve answers with his face still buried on your sweet cunt.

Steve was slowing down his thrusts and sucking her clit one last time, leaving you whining and frustrated.

"I've been a good girl, sir! please, please" you almost cried begging for the touch, any touch from the visibly excited man in front of you. 

Steve was big but no thicker than Eddie. The abdomen is clearly harder than your boyfriend's, adorned with hair, making your mouth water, not going unnoticed by Eddie, who already had his cock in his hand while masturbating watching another man eating you out.

"What do you think baby girl, Steve deserves to be repaid? Did he eat your nice little pussy good? Did he make you feel good?" Eddie said, still with his cock in his hand, leaking pre-cum from the swollen head. The words going straight to your core, making you moan out loud

"Yes! please daddy let me suck Steve's dick, he did a good job" Eddie's hand slammed hard against the fat on your ass "That's a good girl, a good slut for us, suck Stevie’s dick babe, I want to see your mouth full of his dick"

Steve let a groan escape through his nose watching you position yourself on your knees on the floor in front of him. Your hands massaged Steve's hard cock, making him hiss. He knew what you were capable of doing, he watched countless times from yesterday to today the video where you emasculate Eddie with such dexterity.

But seeing you like this, so vulnerable and in a hurry to make him feel good, Steve's perverted thoughts came back to him.

"Ask me nicely to put your mouth on my big cock, slut"

"please sir, can I put your dick in my mouth?" your fingers trailing up Steve's thigh, resting on the waistband of the man's underwear. "make you feel good?" lightly pulling his boxers down, sliding down his legs to join a pile of clothes thrown in the corner of the room.

Steve's big cock as soon as freed from his boxers came up against his abdomen, you could see the pre-cum stains glistening against the man's skin "can I taste you sir?" you could hear Eddie moaning as he massaged the tip of his cock, Steve let his head fall back 

"Fuck princess, yeah! you can taste my cock"

You licked your palm before enveloping Steve's cock with your manicured fingers, moving up and down slowly, making Steve squirm under your touch.

"mhm, thank you sir, thank you very much" and with an innocent smile, you sank your mouth around the head of Steve's cock, giving light sucks, making the man go crazy

"fuck that's it, good girl" his hands on your hair, encouraging your mouth to go deeper on his cock, Eddie still masturbating, now sitting next to Steve, watching his head move up and down on another man's cock.

Steve started to move his hips against her face, fucking her face hard. Moans from him vibrated against the length of his cock, making him moan louder. When you were almost out of air, Steve released you from his cock making him moan at the lack of contact with his lips.

The man's hands squeezing his boyfriend's thigh as he touched himself, Eddie could feel Steve's eyes on his cock, he slid his hand slowly along the entire length of his cock, biting his lips containing a malicious smile, he pressed and massaged the head of his cock, his gaze never leaving Steve's face, as a drop of pre-cum trickled down the tip, steve let out a groan from the back of his throat.

"Wanna try it, big boy?"

Steve's eyes flew to his, looking for some kind of judgment but found only approval. "I-I never... I never did that daddy" Steve's so small voice made you moan louder than you expected.

You crawled until you were between your boyfriend's legs, his hands were against your face, holding you as if you were very fragile "hi pretty baby" he smiled, you lightly kissed his lips "hi daddy" you laughed down and continued "can I teach Steve how to suck your dick?"

Steve's heavy hand met the fat of your ass in a hard slap, making you cry and bite your lip.

"What did you just call me?" Steve asked, mirroring Eddie's words earlier.

"Sorry sir, I'm really sorry, can I teach you? please, I want you to feel how good daddy's dick is"

Eddie appears tired of the interaction and buried your face in his cock, causing the tip to hit the back of your throat, you gasped and coughed around his cock and felt your little pussy oozing from his crass attitude "That's it baby, choke on that dick, that's right, you stupid bitch, swallow it all" Eddie fucked his face mercilessly, moaning and growling at the feel of her throat around him.

He stopped your movements by pulling you by the hair, smiling at the sight of your swollen lips, chin and neck glistening with the amount of saliva that escaped his mouth. "Kiss her" he demanded, Steve quickly pressed his lips to his, his tongue not asking for permission, invading his mouth and moaning when he felt the taste of Eddie's cock on his tongue.

"That's it, good boy" Eddie's hands in Steve's hair "Now, you're going to lick her clean, swallow all the juice, the mixture of my cock and the sweet taste of my princess, ok?" you and the other man moaned at the same time "But first, come here whore" he handled your body, placing you in his lap.

He slid the head of the cock into your pussy, collecting all the juices of your arousal, making you moan loudly at the sensation against your clits, "Do you like that? hmm, that's right moan my name" You started to lower your hips looking for friction "please, daddy please!" you moaned almost desperately.

Eddie circled your entrance and slowly sank you into his cock, making you stretch inch by inch, his cock filling you deliciously, the rhythm he established allowing Steve to continue licking the mess Eddie left in your mouth.

Your hand enveloped Steve's cock, sliding up and down, making the man moan, the rhythm of Eddie's thrusts into your poor pussy increased with the sound of the moaning man who was fucking his girlfriend's hand. Steve's hand went to your clit, massaging, pushing you over the edge.

"Can I come? please can I come? I've been a good girl. Daddy? Sir? please" the fat tears started to run down your face "fucking yes! cream my whole cock, come on me babe. Be a good whore and cream all of my cock" and with this, your orgasm washed over your body, collapsed into your boyfriend's sweaty chest. He took you off his lap and laid you down gently on the couch, letting you get back to your normal self within your time, kissing your calf.

Eddie's gaze went to Steve who was already staring at him. Eddie draped his arms over the back of the couch and spread his legs slightly apart, getting comfortable. His cock trembled at Steve's look of desire, Steve's mouth watering at the sight of your cum running down Eddie's cock, making it gleam.

"Come here big boy, won't you be a good boy and clean up daddy?" Eddie said, making Steve groan and you sigh.

Eddie brought Steve's lips to theirs, kissing soft but firm at the same time, his hands roaming the boy's body, encircling Steve's cock with his big, callused hands "Would you be a good boy for me?" Eddie continued massaging Steve's hard member.

"y-yes daddy, I'll be your good boy" Steve finished the sentence getting on all fours on the couch, head down and ass up, his mouth wasn't as soft as yours but the feel of Steve's strong jaw opening and encompassing the head of eddie's cock caused his head to fall back "That's it my good boy" steve moaned tracing delicious vibrations on your boyfriend's cock, steve's head bobbed up and down on eddie's cock,strong hands playing with his balls, making Eddie fuck Steve's mouth in response to the boy's movements.

You recovered from your orgasm, propping yourself up on your elbows and finding the hottest scene, Steve's round ass exposed to you, as he rubbed his erect cock against one of the sofa cushions seeking any form of release. Your boyfriend's dick burying himself in his neighbor's throat, Eddie fucked his mouth deftly, moaning shamelessly.

His eyes met your face, your eyes on Steve's ass, you looked mesmerized. 

Eddie was smirking at you when his gaze returned to his, he just nodded, confirming the request that was written on his perfect face.

You knelt behind Steve, your hand squeezing his cock and balls at the same time, making Steve moan and as a result, Eddie rolled his eyes at the vibration. 

You started to slide your hand on Steve's cock, masturbating him while your delicate lips attacked the boy's balls. Eddie took advantage of Steve's distraction and grabbed his head, fucking the man's mouth with more desire, while Steve moaned desperately you took your wet tongue to Steve's puckered hole, licking lightly, massaging the ass of the man who moaned so hotly wrapped around from Eddie's dick.

"fuck fuck fuck" Eddie said each time Steve's body jumped forward with the attack on his asshole. 

Steve increased the pace of the blowjob, his hands gliding easily over the man's balls with the amount of saliva that oozed from Eddie's cock. "I want to cum in your ass, do you want to make daddy happy? be a good boy to me?"

Eddie knelt down behind Steve, who was now eating your pussy so eagerly, trying to get at least one more orgasm out of you.

His throat being opened the size of Steve's cock as he fucked his mouth carelessly, you underneath Steve in a delicious 69, leaving his ass high so Eddie could fill his asshole with cum.

Eddie promised Steve he'd just put the tip in and so he did, brushing the swollen head across Steve's asshole, which all made him fuck his throat deeper as Eddie pressed his asshole, trying to enlarge his neighbor's asshole.

As soon as Eddie got inside, he slowly fucked Steve's ass, making the neighbor moan desperately "oh! fuck I need to come, can I cum in your mouth princess?" Steve asked desperately but not stopping eating on your pussy so good.

Eddie was already on edge, head thrown back, head jammed in Steve's ass as he worked his length with his own hand. "Oh!fuck, make her come Steve, now!" 

Eddie said with the thrusts starting to get awkward, Steve with 2 fingers stuck in your pussy as he sucked you, you with your lips tight around Steve's cock. "Can i cum in her mouth? Can I, daddy?"

"Fuck you can" Eddie said squeezing their hands on Steve's hips, Eddie's strong grip bringing Steve to his climax, white strings of cum painting the walls of his throat, Steve's mouth sucked on the right spot of her pussy, fingers pressing into that spongy place making you squirting, soaking Steve's face.Eddie wasn't far behind, filling Steve's asshole with his hot cum, the three of them collapsing onto the couch, you couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. 

You were sandwiched between the boys, when a low chuckle left your lips, piquing the boys' curiosity.

"Damn, that was...something" you chuckled and broke free of the boys' embrace, heading to the bathroom to clean up a bit.

Alone now, Eddie and Steve exchanged incriminating glances, the lopsided grin making the men look like playful little boys. Steve was the first to break the silence

"I didn't think your plan would work so well," he said, brushing the hair out of the boy's face.

Eddie chuckled and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and passing it to Steve, who happily accepted it.

"I told you, It's just make her mad and she turns into a fuckgirl" he winked at Steve, getting up from the sofa and sitting in front of the computer, eyes roaming the screen, reading all the comments, he could only smirk.

"Yeap! I think we broke the internet Harrington" Eddie said casually, turning off the machine and making his way to the bathroom to enjoy the shower with you. Steve continued to sit on the couch, not sure what to do.

"Are you coming or not Steve?" Eddie's low, husky voice made Steve shiver

"yes, yes I will Munson" Eddie smiled fondly at Steve, throwing a towel hard at Steve.

"For your modesty, man" he chuckled

"Nothing you haven't already seen" Steve raised one of his eyebrows and winked back at Eddie.

"Come on boys, I'm exhausted and hungry, let's shower soon and watch a movie" your sweet harmonic voice making both boys smile widely

"We're going babe" they said together causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head

"Now I have two assholes to take care of" you said to yourself.

-

Special thanks to @omenhel who put up with me complaining and gave me great ideas, I love you bub <3

[the-kr8tor]

I'll give you my blood if you give us an alternate ending for that time loop 🥺

Hi hun! Don't worry you don't need to sacrifice your blood for the alternative ending!

Fun fact I've actually originally written it to have a happy ending, but when I was nearing the end, I thought it would be a lot better for Hobie to accept it and finally let go (and also I kinda written myself into a corner) so I've written a bit on how it would've went down.

Thank you for reading, angel! I'm glad you liked it! ❤️❤️❤️

The original fic here

Under the clocktower alternate ending under the cut.

Hobie opens his eyes, the smell of smoke mockingly fills his nostrils, yet he doesn't get up. Maybe he should let this one burn everything, might as well right?

You run towards the kitchen, skidding to a halt when your hip hits the table. You groan out as quietly as you can, so you don't wake up Hobie.

He gets reminded of why he keeps fighting, why keeps on trying to get out of the loop and finally rescue you from your demise.

Hobie sits up, he clutches his head from the searing headache, his fingers feel numb. He feels breathless but at the same time he feels like he's choking on too much air.

All the times he's been killed and injured has finally caught up to him. He wonders what he's done to deserve this kind of punishment, surely there's more people deserving of this awful gate right?

Hobie doesn't want to believe that there's a higher power orchestrating all of this, or some spiritual cause. He lifts his head up with a groan, trying to push away the migraine knocking on his eyelids.

He roams his eyes on your room, your choice of decor, the faint blue of the walls, and the various scientific books litter around your desk.

"Wait" Hobie gets an idea, his eyes flick over your stark white coat, your name embroidered elegantly on its chest pocket, on the bottom of your name sits the name 'Alchemax'

His eyes widened when he remembered a conversation from last week.

Hobie jumps out of bed with a renewed vigour. He runs towards you trying to salvage what was left of your breakfast.

Hobie grabs you by the waist, hugging you from behind.

"Hey! Good morning to you too, you're in a good mood" you laugh.

He missed that, your laugh.

He turns you around to face him, cupping your cheeks.

"What did you say last week?"

"I said a lot of things last week, Hobie, you gotta be more specific"

"Right, when you were talking about your new job at Alchemax, what did you say you were hired for?"

"Oh! That, I was hired for programming their new collider, guess you were too busy kissing me to remember" you huff out.

He kisses you on the lips furiously, that has to be it, it has to be.

You pull away breathlessly, concern filling you.

"You okay, Hobie?"

"From now on I'll remember, I'll remember everything that you say" he pecks your lips with a smack, "know that I love you, alright?"

"I know, I love you too"

Your neighbor knocks on your door, before you could answer the door he stops you, Hobie grabs a bag of sugar then he quickly opens the door tossing it haphazardly towards the general direction of your neighbor. He closes it in a bang.

"Babe, I know you hate him, but that was a bit mean" you put your hands on your hips. "I mean really, that bag was heavy"

"He'll live" hopefully by the end you do too.

Hobie rushes to put on his suit.

You look at him confused "isn't it a bit too early for your patrols?"

"Nope," he pecks your cheek "do me a favour, take the other route this morning, I heard there's a robbery near the route you usually take" he lies.

"Yeah, sure but that takes longer though, can't you just swing me to work, you're already up anyway, please?"

Hobie takes one look at your pleading face, he almost falters. But he has to do this now.

"Sorry, love, maybe next time, yeah?" He opens the window, he stops himself, taking one good look at you.

This has to work.

He sneaks inside Alchemax.

Hobie pulls the fire alarm to get everyone out.

Once everyone is out, he finds the collider, then destroys it for good.

He feels a tugging sensation, he feels it go away immediately.

As he swings away, he glimpses your form amidst the crowd.

The clock rings out.

He fights Goblin, precognition on his side.

While he fights Goblin he tries to find you on the bridge, but you weren't anywhere near it, he doesn't know whether that's good or bad.

He defeats Goblin, he swings back home.

Hobie finds you singing to yourself, as you read on the couch. He checks the clock -7:00 pm

Did he do it? Is this it?

He runs to you, touching your shoulders. You yell at the sudden presence.

"Fuck! Hobie, you could've said hi first, jeez" you greet him with a hug. "You okay? I saw the fight on the news, you were absolutely brilliant, she couldn't even get a hit in"

"You're home early" he asks as he roams his eyes on your body, trying to find any injuries.

"Yeah, there was a fire at Alchemax, couldn't even get inside the building," you rub over his heart with your knuckles, trying to calm his raving heart. "On my first day too, just my luck huh?"

He hugs you tightly "yeah, just my luck"

Hobie waits for the other shoe to drop, he waits throughout the night, he doesn't sleep, he just lays on your bed, embracing you tightly against his.

He does this until the sun rises, your clock signaling the next day, the new date written in bold red numbers. For the first time he smiles at the morning sun.

Hobie looks down at you, checking your breathing, in and out, your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm.

He did it, he kept his promise.

❤️

-This wasn't obviously complete lol, since I trashed this ending, while in the middle of writing.

-Another fun fact! I didn't outline the entire story but instead I wrote it based on the five stages of grief.

- i didn't continue with this ending because I liked the angsty version more whoops. 🤭

[abysswalkersknight]

Angsty story time just like I said! This one took a bit of time to think about because I was trying to match it with the other one and used my other fic as bit of a reference. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go write something fluffy and funny before I cry myself a river. Please enjoy.

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

This blessing truly was a curse.

Another wave of heaviness overwhelms Silver’s entire being, causing him to stagger against the gigantic, rusted door. Almost there, a voice whispers in his ear, almost there.

There wasn’t much time. He had been travelling on foot for a few days now, having snuck out of Night Raven after making sure that everyone was alright and resting. He had gathered all his meagre possessions from his dorm room and set fire to them, watching as the smoke and ashes rose up into the cool, starry sky, no one will miss them anyways. The only thing that was spared from the flames was the small photograph from Silver’s birthday where everyone wore pleasant happy smiles, back when everything was normal. He couldn’t bear to part with it so he carefully pocketed it in an old coat he brought from home. 

Home. What does that mean to him now? Home was wherever his father was, and now that was gone too. Lost to the sands of time and revelation. 

Almost there.

The castle was decrepit and in ruins, but there was a melancholic beauty among the briar thorns that draped over the whole crumbling structure, threading through old looming towers and snaking through rotted doors and windows. Elegant it was, for an ancient tomb made for a forgotten kingdom. 

Silver groaned as another wave of exhaustion hit him, it was getting worse, this was different from all the other spells, it was heavy and unrelenting, weighing him down like a prisoner with a ball and chain. It had started when everyone had tended to the aftermath of Malleus’s overblot, while everyone shed tears of relief and embraced each other Silver felt a sharp pang in his chest, his eyelids began to sag and his head languidly swayed. Before him was the sweet sight of his family in a tight pile sharing heartfelt whispers and cheers, suddenly he grew to be very tired. Silver was so happy for them, finally he got to see his prince and father genuinely smile once again, but this time the pang he felt before returns with another kick. Harder this time. So hard that he thought he could feel something split inside him, slowly spreading into what would later become a fragile web of cracks just waiting to shatter. By then he had left before anyone had noticed, slipping out of the room to what he believed was his final walk to the gallows.

He recalled visiting his father before he left. The poor fae was utterly exhausted and hadn’t even stirred as the moon’s light flooded the room through the crack of his door, Silver slowly crept up to the edge of his father’s bed, watching the level rise and fall of his chest as his gaze shifted to the peaceful expression on Lilia’s face, it was the most peaceful Silver’s seen him for quite some time. If Lilia were to wake up right now he might’ve startled at the close proximity his son’s face was to his, just watching intently while resting his drowsy head on top of his arms, expression blank as it had always been. How did he do it? After all the suffering he’s had to endure all these centuries, how did Lilia still find it in himself to love and care for the offspring of his enemy, the enemy who's stripped him of everything.

Silver sighed deeply, his head lolled against the cool stone of the castle, his thoughts were flailing from his grasp while his vision blurred at the edges, how much longer… how much longer. He was so tired, this was worse than the exhaustion he felt carrying the general up the forbidden mountains or the cold, cold magic that seeped into his joints. Silver clumsily waves off some birds, fluttering about in their worry when he refuses to speak to them, so tired, it didn’t matter. It was no use clinging to something worth nothing.

As he was leaving father’s room, he did not expect to hear a voice weak with sleepiness calling out to him ‘Silver?’ Lilia’s voice rang out ‘my dear, what are you doing out? You should be in bed little one’ Silver turned from his place at the door to see Lilia lifting himself upright, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. Once again Silver was a small child, silently praying for his papa to wake up and soothe him after the throes of a dreadful nightmare, he stalls, unsure of what to do, fortunately Lilia beats him to it ‘couldn’t sleep could you? That’ll be a first, but I’m not surprised,’ he yawns widely, ‘come here little one’ he says, patting the bed. When Silver doesn’t budge he pats it more insistently ‘well, come on!’ Silver twitches hesitantly, he’d want nothing more than to run and snuggle into his father’s arms just like how he did as a child, but due to what he’s devised and done it felt rather cruel, in the end though Silver gave in. However, as father’s arms eagerly wrapped around his shoulders the drowsiness he felt in the lounge returned tenfold, making him slump further into Lilia’s chest. Unaware of what was truly happening Lilia coos, thinking that his son simply needed some company to help lull him to sleep, not that he could blame him, the past few days have been quite the eye opener for his boys, and not the pleasant kind.

‘I’m so sorry you had to endure all of that my love’ Lilia murmurs as he buries his face in silver locks ‘it must have been terrifying for you all’ he then lays back down, bringing Silver down with him ‘yes, but I’m just glad that you and Lord Malleus are safe’ he whispers back, letting Lilia press a loving kiss to his forehead ‘oh my darling, who could have ever raised such a wonderful boy? Oh yes, it was me!’ 

Normally the boy would relish in his father’s doting affections, hands combing through his hair and massaging his scalp, his warm body curled around his under the blankets, it was the perfect way to fall asleep. But all it does now is widen the gaping hole in his chest, rendering him numb to the bone. Please, why?

It should be Malleus here in father’s warm embrace, not him.

Malleus, the prince who had lost everything before he was even born, the prince who had been denied a family by those who sought power, the prince who had been denied his rightful father. I’m so sorry.

No, Silver was not jealous in the slightest, the void within him did not bay for anyone’s downfall. Only his.

Had it not been for his birth family Malleus would still have his parents, perhaps even his freedom, and Lilia would still have his beloved friends, his reasons for living. And now thanks to Silver’s selfish desires he had helped trigger Malleus’s overblot and thus this whole mess.

And it tore at Silver to know that, despite all of these transgressions, Lilia still found it in himself to love him. It was with these thoughts stewing in his head that he carefully crawled out from the blissful warmth once he was certain his father had fallen back asleep, slipping out of the dorm just as a certain prince came to check on him, only to find that the window had been left open, curtains fluttering as the moon leaked through, illuminating a room that was dreadfully cold and devoid of everything.

Silver wasn’t even meant to be here, hadn’t the great fairies blessed him with a prolonged slumber, he would merely be another fading memory of a kingdom lost to time, a distant fragment in the history textbooks if he was lucky. Which was partly why he was here now, back to the castle where Lilia had found him, and the place where Princess Malenoa was slain, if he were in the right state of mind Silver would have spent a moment savouring the desolate beauty of the whole place. But alas, it seemed that his body recognised its home of the last four hundred years, and a familiar sense of fatigue clawed at his legs. But the voice in the back of his head urged him to walk further, almost there almost there. 

After all, there was a reason why Silver was here. 

He wanted his family to be happy, and it seems to ensure that, the blood stained slate must be wiped clean. And while there was no way he could disband the senate, the least Silver could do was make sure that nothing from his forgotten home harmed anyone ever again, including himself. Everything here must remain buried, for the sake of everyone. Everything from that tragedy will die here with him, his bloodline and existence will be naught but a distant memory.   

The great fairies magic seemed to agree with him as with every ladened step he takes, the harder it was for him to move. Just a little more… 

In the background, he heard a frantic volley of chirps and squeaks. What is it this time? It takes a momentous effort to lift his hooded eyes to see a pair of dark wings flapping and tugging at his hair. Oh, it was one of Father’s familiars, the one who took charge whenever Malleus or the Zigvolts babysat him. The bat squeaked with desperation, even digging its tiny claws into his shoulder in a pitiful attempt to either wake him up or drag him away he was not sure, all he knew was that any and all entrances had been sealed to prevent anyone from breaking in, but it seemed that the wildlife were still granted entry ‘leave me’ he tells his old caretaker, his voice slurry and barely above a whisper. 

The old bat chirps back, refusing to let go as if it knew what was happening. It's possible that it does, the bat was nearly as old as Lilia, its borne witness to his family's atrocities, seen what they have done so why was it pulling at him so? It was the head of its colony, it knew as a leader that sometimes one thing must be sacrificed for the good of many others. Why didn’t it understand that this is what needs to be done? It was for the benefit of its master for goodness sake! ‘please. Leave me alone, return to Lilia’ it hurt him to insult his father like this, he could almost hear Sebek cutting into him at such blatant disrespect. I’m sorry, Father.

The bat’s urgent squealing escalates into a borderline wailing as Silver stumbles forward, crawling up the steps leading to the desecrated throne, and the empty cradle right next to it. I’m…tired. The further he climbed, the deeper he sank, down, down into the darkness, the sweet promise of rest right at his fingertips. The bat faded off into the distance, all sense of feeling in his limbs fell away, all he could see was that small cradle.

Why did I wake up?

Every resounding step echoed throughout the empty halls.

Why did you take me in?

His legs buckle underneath him, his face crashing into the harsh stone.

It hurts. I’m scared.

He was terrified, there was no stopping this, this exhaustion. Weak fingers drag his body closer.

Father, he wanted Father!

Why would he come? There was nothing here for him, he didn’t deserve father.

It was so cold, where was father? He’s warm.

In the fading light, a hand reaches out for the cradle, almost there.

Fa…ther…

Darkness swallows him whole.

[misseviehyde]

GOING DEEPER

"Come on nerd, you're meant to be smart," sneered Mia, impatiently tapping her long acyrllic nails against the desk. She leaned forward threateningly. "Fix my fucking skin ray rod and hurry up."

Sarah gulped and turned back to the twisted mess of wires sticking out of the strange wandlike machine she held in her hands. Where her bratty Asian bully Mia had acquired such an object she had no idea, but she didn't dare ask.

"Make it work again and I won't bully you for a few weeks. Isn't that worth it bitch?"

Of course... Mia was lying. As soon as Sarah had fixed the rod - Mia was going to blast her with it and wear the little dweeb for a few days. She would generate more than enough blackmail material to ensure the loser was fully under her power. Having her own private repair and homework service would be useful.

One blast of the rod and anyone could be turned into a wearable skin. It allowed perfect access to memory and flawless impersonation of the victim. Another blast would turn them back to normal... except now the damn thing had stopped working.

Sarah squealed as the rod suddenly sparked and a beam of light blasted out. It struck her mirror and she screamed as it ricocheted around the room. She ducked and the beam JUST missed her head. "That was close," she gasped turning round to speak to Mia.

But Mia was gone... or at least the surprised looking pile of flesh within her clothes looked like Mia, but she was no longer able to move or speak.

"Oh no," squealed Sarah as the device in her hand suddenly sparked and she tossed it into the fire bucket full of sand she'd put to one side just in case. The rod burst into flames and she desperately stamped them out, hearing circuits crunch and components snap.

In moments it was over and the rod was a ruined mess of twisted metal - totally unrepairable. Smoke was rising from the bucket and moments later the firealarm went off.

"What on Earth is happening in here?" coughed Janice, Sarah's kindly Mom as she pushed open the door.

She gawped at the empty skin on the bed and her teary daughter. "You better tell me everything."

*******

Comforting her daughter Janice held the now cool ruin of the rod. "So this is completely broken? Well - in that case you need to find out where Mia got it from originally."

"But how Mom? Without the rod we can't turn her back, and when her rich parents find out she's missing they'll get the police involved. I'll be arrested for murder!"

"But Mia isn't dead right? If we can get another rod we can zap her back to normal. We just need to access her memories right? Well - why don't I put her on and then I can search her mind for answers."

Sarah hesistated. Something about her Mom climbing into the body of her bitchy bully felt wrong but she guessed she had no choice.

"Okay, but be careful."

Janice took off her clothes and picked up Mia's skin. It should have been impossibly tight and small for her much larger middle aged body to fit inside - but the skin was stretchy and once it snapped tight - it began to squeeze and reduce Janice's body until she was somehow the same dimensions as Mia.

Smooth tanned skin replaced aging flesh as Janice struggled into the suit. "Oh my goodness," groaned Janice as Mia's tighter younger pussy snapped into place over her own and Mia's perfect bottom tingled pleasantly. She hadn't realised putting on the skin would actually feel this good.

A feeling of youth and power was flowing into Janice and as she pushed her hands into Mia's arms, she wiggled her manicured fingers and admired how hot they looked.

Mia's breasts were smaller, but they were perter and in proportion to her tiny body they looked plenty big. Janice groaned in pleasure as she pulled them up and then grabbing Mia's bitchy face pulled it over her own.

She felt soft pink lips merge with her own as the skin snapped fully tight around her and the seam merged together invisibly. The skin tightened and all sensations of her own body faded as she now fully inhabited Mia's tight young body. The transformation was complete.

"Wow... you look just like her..." breathed Sarah slightly fearfully.

"I feel AMAZING," grinned Janice - her voice now bratty and condescending. She turned in the mirror admiring the flexible tautness of her body and her perfectly toned physique. Every ache and pain from her forty year old body was gone, she felt lighter... stronger... more confident.

"Can you remember where she got the rod?"

Janice squeezed Mia's eyes shut... but her memories were a fog. She could remember some things, especially recent ones.

Like how I was gonna take total advantage of that fucking loser Sarah. What a pathetic sadsack she is.

Janice gasped. The flavour of Mia's memories were vile and toxic - yet somehow enticing and addictive. Hearing her own thoughts echo with such meaness sent a thrill of exhiliration through her. She decided not to tell Sarah what Mia had had planned for her, there was no reason to upset her.

Older memories though were proving harder to pin down. It was like Mia's mind was resisting hers... or she wasnt enough in tune with it yet to fully understand those thoughts.

"I think I need longer inside her," mused Janice. "It's still very confusing. I'll spend the night as Mia and hopefully by tomorrow I'll know more."

"What do you mean? Who is going to cook dinner and look after us then? Are you staying over as Mia?"

Janice felt an uncharacteristic flash of annoyance and the words came out before she could stop them. "Of course not you fucking dummy - I'm going back to Mia's house and you can sort your own dinner. Tell your father I went out and won't be back for a few days."

Gawd, she's so fucking dumb even if she is a nerd. What a loser.

Janice groaned as a feeling of pleasure pulsed through her. It was like Mia's skin was approving of her outburst and rewarding her. Accepting her.

New memories swam into focus and Janice suddenly understood. The skin was fighting her - recognising that she was alien, but the more like Mia she acted - the more it would accept her and allow her to think and feel just like Mia.

She decided to keep that secret from Sarah too. There was no reason she had to know everything.

Turning to the bed and ignoring the look of anger on Sarah's face Janice began to dress in Mia's clothes. She would never have worn an outfit like this before - it barely covered her body and was little more than a few pieces of material that somehow prevented Mia from being completely nude. With a giggle she slid in the sexy belly button ring that had come lose when Mia deflated. This was all kind of... fun.

"Awwwww don't pout," laughed Janice mockingly as she saw Sarah was still angry. "I'm just being in character. Look I'll find out where to get a new rod and then we'll put everything back to how it used to be. Don't worry."

Grabbing Mia's handbag and iphone, she slid her feet into the bullies high heeled shoes and clopped out of the room like she really was Mia.

*******

Janice had worried that Mia's parents would notice something was wrong, but she needn't have concerned herself.

"Hello Princess," smiled Mia's doting father doing the dishes still in his work tie, as her Mother drank a cocktail and had her personal manicurist work on her fingers.

Mia's memories told Janice that her Mom was a rich trophy wife and her Dad owned his own businesses. In the outside world he was a powerful dominant business man, but at home he was enslaved to his trophy wife and bratty daughter. Mia and her Mommy got whatever they wanted and never had to lift a finger.

It was no wonder she'd grown up to be a spoiled bully.

Walking into Mia's bedroom, Janice was surprised how tidy it was. Then she remembered they had a maid. Mia usually just threw her clothes on the floor and left them for someone else to tidy up. She was used to being waited on.

I'm just better than other people. This is what I deserve.

Janice opened drawers of neatly folded panties and bras. Mia had a personal stylist and beautician and there was a bewildering array of different colours and styles. Clothing racks loaded with dresses, skirts, pantsuits and blouses were stacked up against one wall, where a cubby system held hundreds of pairs of shoes.

A pair of cat ear headphones hung from a pink gaming chair in the corner, a professional microphone and lighting rig testsment to Mia's growing popularity as a streamer and e-girl.

A locked white cabinet stood in the corner. Walking over Janice remembered where Mia hid the key and unlocking it gasped at what was inside.

Sex toys of every colour, size and variety stood carefully arranged on the shelves inside. Suction dildos, vibrators, wands and even strap ons. Handcuffs, chains, whips and masks completed the set. There were two harddrives inside as well and Janice gasped as Mia's memories told her they were full of the amateur sex films she'd made with both boys and girls.

"Holy shit, she's only eighteen, this is crazy," gasped Janice - also incredibly turned on by what she was seeing.

She reached out and picked up a big black dildo as long as Mia's arm and gulped as a memory of having it deep inside her flashed up.

What's the matter bitch - can't take a little length?

Janice gasped. This was more than a memory - it was like Mia's mind was... talking to her. It didn't feel conscious - more like her memories and thoughts were trying to crowd into her own mind and make her think like they did. In the same way that Mia's body was beginning to accept Janice, so was her mind. The more like Mia she thought, the closer the union would become.

Janice put down the black dildo and her hand grabbed a well worn magic wand.

This is my favourite toy. I love how it makes me squirt.

The memory no longer felt like Mia's. It felt like hers. She could remember the touch and feel of the wand perfectly. She could remember it like it was her own memory. It was overwhelming.

Fuck I'm horny. I should play with myself

Lying on the bed Janice tore off her clothes and smiling began to play with herself. She felt so fucking hot young and bitchy. Switching on the wand, she felt it buzz into life and she brought it down to her shaved pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk."

My clit is super sensitive today... doesn't it feel so deliciously nasty to play with myself. I'm such a fucking bitch.

Janice groaned and gripped the sheets with her spare hand. Her eyes rolled up in pleasure and she bit a pink lip. She hadn't ever felt this aroused and simulated.

I'm definitely going to squirt - ohhhhh fuck this feels so fucking good.

Janice grinned as she relaxed and let her bonding with Mia grow stronger and stronger. She loved how this felt. She could feel herself melting deeper and deeper into Mia's memories and desires.

Doesn't it feel so good to be a brat? I love being a bitch.

Mia's wicked memories began to flood Janice's mind and she groaned as she got even more turned on by the most evil and depraved thoughts her new body was giving her.

She embraced it totally - imagining herself as Mia, bullying nerds and acting like a spoiled bitch. It would all feel so good.

More memories flooded her mind... her skin felt more perfect, tighter and more comfortable. Her head span...

What the fuck are all these pathetic memories about being a Mom? I should drive them out so there's more room to be a bitch.

Janice drove the wand down harder on her clit and screamed in pleasure. "Yesssss I'm a bitch, I'm Mia and I'm a fucking bitch."

Memories were slipping out of her head now - useless pathetic memories about being a Mom and caring for Sarah.

Sarah is a fucking loser and I can't wait to bully her. I am a fucking Goddess and my name is MIAAAAAAA!

"Yesssss oh fuck yesssss!"

Janice screamed as she began to cum. Hot juices erupted as she squirted for the first time in her life. She squealed and moaned, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through her body.

Janice? No... she was no longer Janice.

She was Mia now and it felt so fucking good.

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

Mia smiled as Sarah hugged her and she walked into the house with her.

"Im sorry darling," purred Mia acting how she thought Sarah's pathetic Mom might act, "I still can't access her memories. I have no idea where she got the rod."

"It's okay Mom," sighed Sarah as she shut the door and walked forwards.

She screamed as the beam hit her directly in the back.

"Hahaha," laughed Mia as she watched Sarah collapse and deflate into an empty skin. "I can't believe you fell for that loser."

Hanging her former daughter on a coat hanger, Mia giggled as she hung Sarah on the back of the door and used a coat to cover most of her up.

"Sorry nerd but your Mommy is all gone. But we can still have fun together. Now I have all of Mia's memories I know exactly where she got the rod from and getting a new one was easy. Why don't you hang there and watch what happens next?"

There was a knock at the door and Mia grinned as she went to answer it. Bobby, the boy Sarah had a crush on was standing there.

"Mia - what the hell are you doing here? I thought Sarah asked me over."

"Don't worry Bobby. Sarah and I are friends now. She told me to keep you entertained whilst we wait for her to turn up. Come in..."

Bobby followed her into the house - his eyes rivetted to her ass.

********

Trapped as an empty living skin Sarah wordlessly screamed as she watched Bobby's strong hands on Mia's bitchy hips. He was pounding her hard, making her groan with every thrust.

"Fuck you're so tight Mia. I can't believe I'm fucking the hottest girl in school. You won't tell Sarah right."

Mia grinned and tossed her hair back.

"Don't worry about that bitch Bobby. Grab my hair and fuck the shit out of me. I'll even let you cum in me."

Bobby groaned and pounded Mia harder - grabbing her hair.

"Yessss that's it. Go deeper... deeper."

And throughout it all Sarah couldn't but help watch every second as she silently screamed and prayed Mia would turn her back to normal.

[hyunnieshannie]

EX | HJ

Chapter 4: You're so cruel...Y/N

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 4,697

General Synopsis: Your ex? Shitty. Your family? Worse. Your best friend? Left for a tour in the middle of one of the worst times of your life. How are you meant to deal with planning what should have been your wedding, dealing with your family, and pretending like you're not falling apart all on your own?

General Warnings: Idol!Jisung, mentions of other Idols (P1Harmony/Seventeen), all views on these idols are purely fictional. Idol AU. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smoking and drug use (weed and cigarettes), Mentions of drinking, angst, self esteem issues, depression. Y/N is older than Jisung. (I'm sorry for the jokes that come out of this) (any tags I missed please feel free to let me know! More tags to be added as the story goes on.)

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, MY TEENY TINY ADHD BRAIN SAID "HERES 9 OTHER STORY PLOTS THAT YOU MUST WRITE DOWN OR YOU'LL FORGET" ANYWAYS PLEASE ENJOY ~ gif by @jjsungie ~

PREVIOUS ꕀ❀ꕀ SERIES MASTER LIST ꕀ❀ꕀ NEXT

“Get up- Get up- Get up Y/N!” Mini shouts as she excitedly jumps on the bed, you groan loudly rolling on to your side, attempting to snuggle up in the covers. “Hell no.” Mini says as she rips the duvet right off you, “UP!” 

“Come on Min, it’s like-” You reach for your phone, checking the time. “Min it’s fucking eight am on a Saturday…” you sit up slowly, sleepily wiping away the morning haze from your eyes. Mini’s already dressed, hair straightened out, bangs falling gracefully over her forehead. Her makeup was done up, in a true ‘e-girl’ fashion. “Why the fuck do you have makeup on at eight.” you laugh, and then you spot it. Laid out across the study desk which she has pushed right against the end of the bed. The entirety of her makeup arsenal spread out messily, some laying on the floor. Who owns that much makeup? Your eyes widen as you look up at her, “No.”

“Yes.” she smirks. As much as you fight, and plead to just go back to bed all of it goes unheard.

So there you are, sitting with your eyes closed as she lightly brushed eyeshadow onto your lids. You hadn’t had someone else do your makeup before, it tickled you a bit as she added her finishing touches to the shadow. You open your eyes as you hear her shift from her spot, walking around the side of the bed and hopping up. Placing herself directly behind you. She places a pillow in her lap and prompts you to lay in her lap, “Now don’t open your eyes, until I say so okay?” you nod as you lay down, softly closing your eyes. Wet. The initial shock of the cool wet liner causes you to flinch, she raises her hand quickly; laughs it off and continues what she was doing. 

“So why are we doing this?” you ask as she fans your face with a folding fan, 

“Mmm, breakfast date with the boys,” She mutters as she focuses on her job on doing your makeup, lightly brushing your eyelashes out before gluing on a light pair of lashes directly on your lash line. 

“For what?” they haven't mentioned it before, she finishes with the second lash before tapping you lightly, indicating you could now get up. Sitting up you face her, the flash on her camera goes off, as it lets out a low hum. The polaroid prints and she takes it quickly placing it inside the drawer of the nightstand that sat beside the bed. “Don’t you shake tho-” 

“NO. Leave it in a dark place, shaking it could cause the chemicals to get all wonky and fuck with the image.” she laughs, “Also Y/N it’s been a month.”

How time flies when having fun. A month has already come and gone since you moved in with them, a month of what seemed like peace finally. After the exchange with Leah, she had told you she found a wedding planner and to not bother with helping. She made no mention of a new maid of honor, so until she did you still held that title, just without the responsibilities. Keeho had mentioned during a late night facetime call how he was happy she’d finally left you alone, and that he was relieved knowing you were getting along with everyone. ‘I told you, you’d be fine’ he had said. 

In the month of living with them, you’d grown quite close to a few people. Mini and Maddy for starters. Both of them being the closest thing you’d have to a real sister-like relationship. Mini often brought you everywhere with her, she always spoke honestly with you. And like siblings, you’d have disagreements but nothing that would ever put the nature of your relationship with her in danger. One of you would always find your way to the other, both of you always apologizing and admitting your wrong doings. The fights were never big, nor of any importance. They never happened often, and usually only came up when one of you was having a bad mental health day. A normal occurrence between friends, between sisters. 

Maddy on the other hand, you didn’t get very close to quickly. It was roughly three weeks in before she fully warmed up, and it was no fault of yours or hers. Maddy practically lived here, spending most of her days in the house with everyone, but always leaving before dinner. At first it was awkward with her as it is when meeting new people. You had complained to Mini once thinking Maddy hated you, only to find out she’d actually just been having a rough patch. Maddy is a happy person, not someone who showed how she felt often, instead opting to just not speak. To most it’d come off as cold, but Mini assured you that Maddy found interest in being your friend, and during a late night drunken talk in Mini’s bedroom Maddy had blurted out how she was glad to have met you. From then on the three of you had become friends so close that Minho would often joke to Hyunjin and Chan that they’d be losing their girlfriends relatively soon seeing how you’ve taken up all their attention. All their affection. 

You’d also gotten close with the rest of Jisung’s group members, the only person coming close to the friendship you have with Keeho being Changbin. 

Of course Jisung was a close contender but you clicked with Changbin instantly. 

On the same drunken night you had told the girls of the song you were wanting to release, for the first time under your own name. The girls begged for you to play it for them, giving them reason to get up and dance around the room as the song blasted through Mini’s speakers. The next day, while Mini went to work Changbin had come up to you. Shyly holding a ‘hangover drink’ to you, 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“I thought you may need this,” he said shyly, you took the drink reading over the label before lightly smiling up at him as you sat at the kitchen table staring into your laptop at the unfinished song before you. “I overheard the song last night,” he whispers, “You composed it?” you nodded at him. “Have you done the lyrics yet? I’d like to hear it fully. If you don’t mind that is..” 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

After that day the two of you spent a lot of time in the spare room they used for producing, he created lyrics that matched the vibe of the song and often joked about how now it’s both of your song, and you can’t publish it without at least crediting him. You got close with him through music, as someone who appreciated what you did, and in his words ‘your second fan.’ you had asked him why he’d have labeled himself the second, only to get a  half assed response that he just wasn’t the first one.

As many late nights of deep talks you had with Mini, you had just as many with Changbin. Often talking about whatever was on his mind, his fear of fully committing to the girl he had been seeing; or his fear of messing things up before recording or performing with the group. He had gotten so close with you, that at one point Mini had just started inviting him to girls nights.

The others would bitch and moan over never receiving an invitation, and Changbin would simply smirk and brag of how much more important he was. ‘Honorary woman’ you had joked once only for him to respond telling you how; though you meant it as an insult he’d take it as a compliment. 

Minho, Chan, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin became like brothers to you, people you could look to for anything but Jisung, after a while began to draw back. 

Everyone always assured you that it had to do with him, that he had his own issues he needed to deal with, that he’d often do it on his own. He still spoke to you normally, he’d treat you like any of his other friends, but something always felt like he was hesitant to speak to you. Sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you deep in thought, only for him to avert his eyes when he snapped back into reality. Sometimes, he’d just give you a weak hello before locking himself away. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“It’s just stress Y/N, don’t overthink it.”

“I know Seungmin it’s just, I feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Because whenever I’m feeling like absolute shit everyone is always there, and Jisung’s always the first to notice and try to comfort me. I just feel bad that I can’t do that for him, because he won’t tell me what's wrong.” 

“Give him time Y/N, he’ll tell you what he’s been thinking, I promise.” 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“It’s been a month already?” You say as you get up, stretching your arms as Mini digs through the closet. She nods as she pulls out a few clothing options and tosses them to you. “Damn,” you pick out an outfit carefully to somewhat match the light pink tones Mini had done for your makeup. You admired yourself in the mirror as you checked yourself over once. The makeup she’d done was simple, the foundation mixture looking natural against your skin. The contour shaped your face perfectly, it wasn’t harsh and blended just right to lift your cheek bones. Light blushing gives you warm rosy cheeks; complementing the pink shadows that in Mini’s words, ‘suit someone as beautiful as the spring’. The eyeliner that was delicately painted on your eyes made them look rounder, the light weight lashes bringing the entire eye look together. You appreciate the work she’d done with your makeup, the outfit complimenting everything as you fixed up your messy hair. By the time you had finished it was nine thirty, and of course Mini had given you a ‘told you so’ laugh as you stared down at your phone. “H-how did it take us an hour and a half to get ready?” you questioned, 

“Looking that good takes time,” she shrugged as the two of you walked out of the room.

The boys of the house all sitting downstairs on the couch, loud as they each yelled about who’s car they’d prefer to be in. There was a total of twelve people going, and three cars. It should have been fairly easy to just stick four in three cars; but instead they argued about how five in one is much too uncomfortable. “You guys are ridiculous.” Mini scoffed as the group looked at her, “Chan, Ji, and you Hyunnie, you make one car. Minho, twinny-”

“How are we twins again?” Seungmin groaned, 

“Our nicknames dumbass that makes us twins get over it, anyways Minho, twinny, innie, and lix in the other car. I’ll take Y/N, Maddy, and Autumn and Bin.” the boys began to complain about the arrangements, asking why once more Changbin had been selected to go in her car rather than with Chan, Hyunjin and Jisung,

"Seriously Min, the math ain't mathing." Seungmin laughed,

“Fuck off and mind ya business.” she laughed. She grabbed her keys and jingled them at the door, the small wristlet covered in keys, pins, and other items she could dangle off them all chiming as they hit against one another.

You quickly followed behind her as she hopped in the car starting it up. Handing you her phone to enter in navigation, “Play music.” she said. You looked up at her wondering if it was okay to play your music, you’d gone out with her several times but not with the others like this. You knew what kind of music everyone liked, except for Autumn who was still new to you.

Changbin had made it official only that week, and wanted her around as much as possible to get used to everyone. 

You liked her, she is sweet and a music major like yourself, but rather than wanting to be a producer, she was a vocalist. Changbin had even suggested you two work on a song together, and joked how Mini could be the director for the video. Though  it was a joke, it was a good idea, having your friends do a video this way. Mini being so into makeup and film, you were sure it would come out looking nice. Autumn whose vocals could grab the attention of any person, you knew she would sound good, what you worried most about was more about the tracks you had created. Would they really be good enough for that? 

The drive to the restaurant was fun, the five of you talking and singing to the song you played. Everyone requested at least one song. During the car ride you learned everyone had at least two songs they went all out in, and it made you giggly seeing them. You almost wanted to record them to treasure how they looked so happy as they gave their all in the songs that played. Is this how the boys felt? You wondered. 

Mini was a chaotic driver, fast, swerving through lanes, yet with ever so careful with such gentle stops you’d forget she was going 160 Kilometers down the highway.

How she’d never been pulled over remained a mystery, but if anyone had an issue with how she drove, they didn’t mention it.

You found it fun, zipping down the highway as music blared. It made you excited for the road trip she had decided to randomly plan out on a drunken Thursday night. 

At first you had thought she was joking, or at the least only saying it due to the four bottles of soju she had downed. But the next day she was staring deep into her laptop as she looked at different locations you could all go. Excitedly telling you of all the different things you’d see. 

Quickly stepping out of the car you let out a loud sigh as you stretch, the others pulling up soon after you. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

Breakfast had been nice, it felt normal for once. Everyone talked away and Jisung didn’t have his head buried into his notebook the entire time for the first time in a few weeks. He managed to speak to you properly too. He wondered if you’d noticed his demeanor lately and obviously you did. From the conversations he’d had with the other boys and a long one he had with Changbin, he knew you were very clearly worried about him; but truthfully he couldn’t figure out how to go about explaining any of it to you. 

He tried wrapping his brain around it by himself and after a week and a half of confusion he’d finally decided to talk to his friends about what was going on. Though the conversations did prove to be slightly helpful to his situation, he was still having a hard time processing it. He’d even facetimed Keeho to ask his opinion on everything. 

Keeho was supportive, and talked him through a lot of his concerns, letting him know that in time everything would be okay. 

He wondered when he had started feeling this way, and to be completely honest with himself it had happened after the fight with your sister.

Jisung had been the first to notice something was wrong, he had left Hyunjin’s room to run to the washroom as the group of boys played video games and listened to music, but was quickly stopped when he heard you pleading with your sister to continue the planning another day.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you sounded upset, your voice so full of hurt he couldn’t help but listen in, so when the screaming erupted and the rest of the boys trailed out of the room and down the stairs he realized that it wasn’t going to end very well. After everything was said and done, ending with Mini sending you to your room, and a few threats to Leah where Hyunjin literally had to hold her back from jumping on your sister. He found his mind rushing and panicking. Where you okay? What happened? How could your sister be so rude? How could he help you? What could he do for you? He just wanted to make sure you were okay but his heart was pounding and he wasn’t just angry, no he was fucking pissed. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

The day of the fight: 

“What the fuck was that.” Jisung asked as the room quieted down, Mini stood there eyes closed as Hyunjin held her shoulders guiding her through some breathing exercises, 

“Jisung, explain the situation now before I go up there.” She sighed, finally opening her eyes.

He did explain, all of it. The group understandably was shocked to hear the full issue (that he knew of). You, dating Jeonghan, the breakup and finally your sister being engaged to him. 

“What, the fuck.” Jeongin sighed as Jisung finished explaining. “Ok so, her sister is marrying her ex, asked her to help PLAN the wedding, and want her to invite HER friends to her party? How the fuck does any of that make sense?”

“You should have seen her face when she saw the dress,” Mini sighed, 

“OH SO SHE STOLE HER MAN, HER WEDDING, AND DRESS?” Changbin yelled in a hushed tone, “What the fuck is wrong with her?” 

“I never said she st- I mean, okay maybe that's possible judging by Y/N’s reaction that might actually be the case” Mini sighs, “Hanji, go get her a glass of water Innie, Snacks, the rest of you… I don’t know, look pretty or something?” and with that Mini made her way upstairs while Jisung made his way into the kitchen. His heart was pounding through his chest, and every thought turned to how he should’ve mentioned it to the group before everything happened. He should have told them, but by the time he had found out that they had insisted on inviting her over, it was too late. 

That night Jisung lay in bed, thinking about everything he could have done. Should have done. In all honesty, he should’ve been the first one to speak up. Instead he let Chan be the one to say something. Sure Hyunjin had spoken first to defend his girlfriend, but ultimately it was Chan who said something about Leah leaving, only after Chan and Changbin had said something was he able to finally say something. He felt guilty. He had taken you in, Keeho had entrusted you to him. Yet when you needed him, he was the fourth person to actually speak up. 

He could barely look at you, guilt eating away at him every time he looked into your eyes.

Three weeks later~

“I should have said something, I should’ve helped her faster.” Jisung sighed as Changbin stood at his door staring at him. Changbin who’d originally walked into Jisung’s room to ask if he had accidentally grabbed his notebook instead of his own from their small music room, only looked at him confused as he processed the words coming out of Jisung's mouth. 

“Wait what?” Changbin said in his confused state, 

“Y/N’s fight with her sister,” Jisung sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, looking up at Changbin as tears threatened to fall. For the past three weeks he had silently blamed himself for your mental state deteriorating in such a short time since you moved in. You had been entrusted to him, Keeho needed him to keep you from falling into a depression and instead he let the very reason for your heart ache to walk right into what was supposed to be your safe space. 

“Ji-” Changbin made his way to the bed where Jisung sat, sitting down beside him. 

“Sorry. That came out of nowhere.” 

“No it’s fine, honestly I figured you’d talk when you felt comfortable but I didn’t think it was about this.” He sighed, “Ji you didn’t do anything wrong, Chan didn’t know when he invited Leah here.” 

“Exactly, I should have explained earlier to avoid this, and now Y/N won’t even look up from the ground whenever she does decide to leave her room.” The tears that welled up in his eyes finally began to fall, and only then did Changbin realize how distraught over the situation Jisung was. “She’s my responsibility and I can’t even- I don’t even know where to begin.” 

“Jisung, Y/N is not a child. Don’t treat her like one, she’s grown. Yes we are supposed to be here to help her while Keeho’s gone but we’re supposed to be being her friends Ji- not her babysitters. We can offer advice, we can do our best to help her through it but ultimately it’s her who will know when she’s better.” Changbin explained, Jisung understood what he was saying but he still felt like shit. He still couldn't help feeling like he should have done more, “Ji you did what needed to be done, you took her in, you gave her ELEVEN new friends, you gave her people to lean on, and you gave her support during that fight. You did exactly what you should have.” 

“But I should have done more-” 

“There is no more in this situation Hannie. You did everything right, and Hannie it’s been three weeks, and she does look up.” 

“She looks so sad Bin…” 

“She looks sad because she thinks something’s wrong with you, she thinks you’re going through shit by yourself and she wants to help you. She’s doing fine right now, she’s dare I say happy. It’s you she’s concerned for right now. So please Ji talk to her, properly. You’re her friend. So explain to her what you’re feeling right now, and I guarantee she’s going to tell you about how none of that was your fault,” Changbin smiled softly as Jisung looked up at him, eyes puffy and red from crying, his face heating up as he thought about how you were worried for him. “If anything I’m sure she's grateful you respected her privacy by not telling us until you had to.” Jisung nodded softly, his thoughts still racing. 

“But now I’m the reason she’s worried.” He sighed, 

“So talk to her.” Changbin said as he got up  off the bed, heading towards the door. “Please.” He smiled once more before shutting the door, leaving Jisung to think about how he should approach you. 

Which brings him back to the present. The breakfast he planned to celebrate your one month of being with them.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

After breakfast the group made their way back to the house, in the same cars they’d arrived in. Jisung kept himself busy by thinking of how he would approach you with his concerns. His concern that he didn’t do enough, his concern for making you worry for him, and the other thing. Frankly he was still unsure if he’d even be able to bring up the other issue that had kept him awake at night, but he figured maybe just getting it out of his system would allow him a night of sleep without his brain torturing him. 

The group disbanded soon after arriving at home, each person going off to do whatever they needed to do. You sat comfortably on your bed scrolling through tiktok posts of the concerts that had been happening. You laughed as Keeho joked around on stage with the boys. You missed them, a lot. A soft knock on the door, and you sit up “come in!” you say. Jisung walks in slowly before shutting the door behind him, 

“Are you busy?” He asks quietly, if you could tell he was nervous, you didn’t mention it. 

“Not at all, what's up Ji?” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart melted at the sight. God how could you? He thought to himself, how could you smile so sweetly, how could you look so good so effortlessly. He shook the thoughts out of his head as he approached the bed sitting carefully on the edge of it. 

“Can we talk?” Finally, You thought to yourself, scooting closer to him as he watched his hands. Fiddling with a ring he had on as he thought of how to bring up everything. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, 

“What? What do you mean? Why are you sorry?” You asked, he finally looked up at you, clearly you were concerned for his apology, and confused. 

“For going dark on you, I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” He lets out the look on his face expressing hurt, and regret. You knew he didn’t mean to do it, you didn’t feel bad, you just wanted to know if he was okay, so why would he apologize for going through something? You knew how it could be to feel down, you knew and he’d always been there for you, you just wanted to be able to return the favor. 

“Ji you didn’t make me feel bad, I just want to know if you’re okay,” you smile softly, placing a hand on his wrist gently, his body tenses up as your hand makes contact with his skin. You feel him tense up, shit, did I make him uncomfortable? “Are you, okay?” he shakes his head ‘no’ lightly, looking back up at you from looking at your hand on his. 

“You had that fight with your sister, and I put a lot of pressure on myself Y/N.” 

“What? Why would you do that Ji!” 

“Because, I should have helped you sooner, I should have told them it wasn’t a good idea to have her here; I didn’t even speak up until someone else did and I just, I should have done mor-” 

“Han Jisung.” You say sternly, “Don’t you dare say that.” He looks to you, a concerned look written across his face. “You have been there for me, you stood up for me, you comforted me. You have been a good friend to me Ji, don’t you fucking dare say you should have done more, when you did the most for me.” Jisung’s heart began to race at your words, you praised him for doing what anyone would have done, for the bare minimum. He still felt like he should have done more, but he knew you wouldn’t let him try to tell you that there was more he could have done. He could have kicked Leah out himself, not Chan. He could have been the one to comfort you first, not Mini, he could have talked you through your concerns, not Bin. He could have done more. He should have done more. “Is this why you wouldn’t even look at me? Why you hid yourself away all month?” you sighed, “Did this bother you so much that you couldn’t even look at me Ji?” he nodded again, but it wasn’t the only reason. “Oh Ji-” you pull on his wrist lightly, using your free hand to cradle his head pulling him into your shoulder to hug him, “Ji, you’ve been such a good friend to me, you did everything right. Please, Don’t think you did anything wrong. You did everything right. Okay?” 

He listened to your words, but his mind was elsewhere. He was enjoying the warmth of your hug, the way you softly held him. Gently. He was listening to the sound of your breathing. He was sinking into the feeling of your hand in his hair, softly stroking his head as you comforted him. You’d never hugged him like this, you’ve never held him like this. And in that moment he didn’t want you to let go. Ever. if he could he’d sit there being held by you for hours. He’d love to just fall asleep in your arms like this, but you were just trying to be a good friend; And comfort him. 

Because that's what the two of you are right? Friends.

And friends don’t think about falling asleep in each other's arms.

You’re so cruel Y/N. 

Tag List:

@alyszaen @channiesbub @dugarzaddy @fairywriter-oracle @skzloveforever @neohyxn @chaotickyrith @lemonadencran @raven-skz95 @chanlixiiee

♡Thank you for letting me tag you♡

[losingmymindrn]

As a fellow coral lover I would like to request coral relationship head cannons with a gender neutral reader (if you write this kind type of stuff sorry if you don’t) specifically before the hunger games and during. Coral relationship head cannons in general lol (like I. Said before could it be gender neutral reader) i don’t request stuff a lot so sorry if this is all over the place

Hello fellow Coral lover😌 ask and you shall receive (tw: mentions of suicide in the last few)

Coral is the biggest lover. She's completely attached to you, and would be destroyed if something happened to you, even if she does show it

Coral will bring you everything she finds pretty, like a sand dollar or an unbroken shell she found on the beach. In the first few months of dating, your shelves are filled with trinkets from the sea

Coral will spend lots of money on you. You want something from the market? It's yours. You can't find any clothes you like? She's having it tailored for you

Coral thinks about you day and night, and especially when she's out sea and has no way to reach you. She loves coming home to see you by the docks. She has no shame in hugging you in front of her crew

Coral will walk to your house in the pouring rain just to see you, and you'll always chastise her for being so reckless

She will beg you to go to those stupid parties other wealthy familes have, because she does not want to go alone and suffer by herself (My au)

If you are a crafty person, she likes it when you come to her house and make whatever. She says it's stupid and worthless but it's all joking, because on the inside, she's melting at how adorable you are when focus

If you read, Coral will let you into her office while she does her family's business. She does say just how distracted she is when you come, because she thinks it'll make you insist on not coming (my au)

Accidently, you might catch Coral drinking or smoking. Coral claims it's to calm herself and relax, but you know it's horrible for her. You always beg her to stop, and she does but it's hard for her (my au)

She takes you on long walks on the beach when it's raining. Well, more like you find her walking in front of your house and join in her stormy night walks

Coral loves going swimming with you. She'll be up at 2am so that you two can go swimming without anyone there

She kisses you like there's no tomorrow. She's scared every time you two kiss, she'll lose you

on the train ride to the games, she is already making the toughest choice of her life. Save mizzen, or save herself and go back to you

The first night in the zoo was the first time she had cried in a while. She missed you so much it was painful for her

Each tribute she killed ment she was closer to you, but closer to having to kill Mizzen

On her breaks, she would think of you. She would think of your lips and how warm you were. Each time she would repeat in her mind what she would say when she got home to you

As she died, her favorite memories played through her mind. You, her mama, her best friend. She wished she fought harder, ran faster. She would've been able to kill Lucy Gray if she did. But she didn't, and that cost her her life.

When not either of district Four's tributes came back, you and Mags, Coral's best friend, screamed and cried until you could both fill your own ocean

You couldn't get up after that when you came home. You were stuck to your bed and refusing to eat. Mags came by to lay with you. She had been taking care of Coral's family while dealing with overwhelming grief as well. You appreciated it, but you just wanted Coral

When you could get up, you went to Coral's house and rushed to her room, covering yourself with her pillows and burying your face in her pillows, sobbing your eyes out while Coral's scent still lingered on it

Sometimes you'd stay with Coral's mother, but you where mainly in Coral's room. Everything that was hers was the only thing that kept you together while tearing you apart

You don't live long after this. With the consent starving and fact that Coral couldn't and would never be back to love you, made a suicide welcome in your mind

You take your life by the sea, in the same spot you and Coral would watch the waves. Maybe it was too much, you were still young and could find other lovers, but it had been two years by now, amd you weren't any better

You held the ring she bought for you in your hands, slipping it on as you drank the poison you bought from the black market, your last thought of Coral's lips on yours

[senka-mesecine]

Would you be comfortable writing nsfw headcanons for bunny from platoon? Thank you so much!

NSFW Headcanons; Bunny. NSFW Headcanons for Robert Barnes here.

-

― Bunny fucks...like a rabid bunny, fully living up to his nickname. Yeah, jokes aside, I think he likes it fast, I think he likes it rough, I think he likes it often (very often), I think he relishes quickies multiple times a day and I think his insatiable tastes verge in that direction precisely because he's impatient and incredibly impulsive, wanting to get right down to it, often times with little to no foreplay or extravaganzas included at all. Not that he has anything against the endeavor or the idea of it per se (in fact, he enjoys it...in theory far more so than in practice) he's usually just too keyed up and horny to actually invest time into preparing you or even himself. He just wants to be inside of you already. Is that quite so bad?

― That being said, he's young and brimming to the teeth in bravado and he might be more talk than he is genuine action, meaning that he has a habit of talking about fucking in sordid detail, namely, what he'd do, what he has done before, what he plans on figuratively doing if he got some pussy, but when it comes to actually doing it for real and not just speculating on it, his skillset doesn't reflect his tall tales. His eagerness does, though. He's just as turned on as he seems to be. Which is, scarily so. The libido this dude has could knock out an animal and he goes round after round and you've no clue where he gets the energy or willpower to have such an appetite.

― Speaking of appetites, he has all the kinks. Yes, you've heard that right. It is pointless to just single out any as his particular favorites, because he'd do anything to you (and the opposite is fairly true too), the weirder the better, ranging from bondage, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation, painplay, knifeplay, consensual non-consent, hitting it from the front, hitting it from the back, smoking a cigarette from in-between your toes, or just plain old penetrative sex and it is simply for the reason that he sees all of this as 'getting pussy' and classifying it as anything else is just...well...not necessary in his eyes. He got laid, right? He's seen some tits and ass from you? Okay, so he's won. Labelling things as anything but is missing the point.

― He calls you his Bunny. Probably does it so often he doesn't call you anything else and any outside observer pretty much has no idea what your actual name even is. It is as meta as it sounds, but it graduates from something he refers to you as something during sex to just an overall nickname and endearment. Possibly gets the post-coital idea of tattooing you too with, you guessed it, a rabbit tattoo so you could match. He enjoys something about the assonance of him being called Bunny, having a girl he calls his Bunny and both of them being embellished with bunny tattoos. In fact, he insists on inking you himself while you're both laying in bed naked. Is it a form of branding and claiming? Maybe. Is this gesture as serious as matrimony to him? Yeah, maybe.

― Likes getting blowjobs. Likes fucking your ass. And likes cumming on your face. Loves your tits too. In general, Bunny enjoys everything a boy who just hit puberty and discovered the basis of sexuality from a stolen porno magazine thinks he would like, except, Bunny's dyed-in-the-bone about it. If he could have an imaginary centerfold nude of you he could hang in his locker or above his bunk it would literally make him the happiest man in the world because you are his fantasy seeing as how, when Bunny's in love, he becomes, as the kids nowadays say, the biggest simp alive. No image of Raquel Welch or Ann Margaret could come close as opposed to everything you represent as a sexual ideal to him. You're his very own Playboy Bunny.

― He's the worst at dirty talk, but my god, does he try. He puts his all into it. From 'Your pussy likes that, huh?' to gems like 'Your pussy's as wet as a waterfall, never seen it squish like that.' and all the way down to 'You're taking it good for me, Bunny' one could say there's something occasionally corny and try-hard about the things he tends to say mid-sex, but Bunny tends to deliver it with so much bravado, horniness and conviction he absolutely sells it because he absolutely means it and in fact, he doesn't let you forget how much he means it because he rambles pretty much non-stop, before, during and after the act. It can be said he's so over the moon being with you he has to vocalize it.

― When he's not with you he masturbates whenever he can to the thought of you because he just has an excess of pent up sexual desire that either gets channeled into you or into less admirable endeavors, like his violence out in the field or his generally high-strung attitude, but in either regard, he's turned on and he's a pervert, in fact, it is safe to say that while other boys in the platoon might have a picture of their sweetheart, a locket, some sort of wholesome token from home, Bunny's most likely to have a pair of underwear that belonged to you...that you either gave him of your own volition or that he simply, you know, took. Not entirely guaranteed they're going to be clean either. In fact, it's preferable they aren't so there's something to sniff. And something he can rub his cock against.

― He's thought about you interwoven with violence and murder, yes, just the murderousness of his actions mingling with his lust for you until, occasionally, it becomes hard to differentiate the two. Thinking about you when he bashes someone's brains in, wondering what it would be like to smear their blood over your face, almost as homage, pondering scaring you, if only a little, when he points his firearm towards as a 'Gotcha!' moment only to laugh and say he's only Joking, bunny, bullying you in almost dangerously juvenile fashion, if only a little. His reveries can and do get very dark and messed up seeing as how the two overarching things running two his brain are usually the in's and out's of military life and you, so it's only a given the two mix and become one, taking on the form of a sexual paraphilia.

― Ultimately, if you write him letters, the happenings of the outside world mean little to him and he doesn't give too many damns about it all except what's up with you, so there's no point recounting him with anything that isn't you, because in his own words, he likes Vietnam because he doesn't have to worry about anything but dying and even that, he won't know it's happening, so if he gets your correspondence, he wants it to be centered solely around you and complete and utter smut. Yeah, those letters better be almost wholly pornographic in nature. Descriptions of your underwear, your pussy, your fingers in them, what you'd do together if you weren't apart, what you will do together the moment he's deployed on R&R and so forth. He cares about two things; well, three. The war, you and sex with you and the letters better be on either of those three subjects. Preferably focused on the latter two so he can use the words as wanking material. Genuinely speaking, you're about the only reason why he'd contemplate going home in the first place.

[colormepurplex2]

Play With Fire | Going Up In Smoke

↳ Arsonist!Hoseok x Criminal!f.Reader ⤜ Infatuated Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA🔞 ⤜ WC: 4,079 ⚠️ talk of murder, outdoor sex, sub/dom tones, manhandling, fire play, creampie, orgasm denial/edging, praise, restraints, fingering, guns/someone gets shot, blood    

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list

M continues, “The marriage is purely business, of course. But, now that our annulment period is over and her uptight accountant has finally signed me on as the sole benefactor of her estate, I don’t find myself much interested in actually being married to the withering old bitch. She stays in the loft above the boutique during the week, so she’ll be there tonight.”

Well, that’s news. “So, are we talking about a lot and luggage, then?” Hoseok asks. You know he and M have their own job-related lingo when it comes to things like this. You’ve pieced together some of it over the years. Lot on its own generally means a building and lot and luggage is a building plus any occupants.”

M is nodding before Hoseok finishes the question. “Lot and luggage. Once the job is done and you’re back from your little vacation, I want you both to consider coming on full-time. I’ll offer you a quarter of Maudette’s estate to split between the two of you.”

That’s big. M keeps a tight circle and it’s a rarity for him to invite someone inside. This is…you’re not even sure what words to use. “That’s— M, that’s a lot of money.”

“It’s inconsequential.” The dismissive way M speaks infuriates you sometimes. “Do the job, take your time off, and think about my offer. Ping me when you’re back on the radar and we’ll discuss it more then. For now, get the fuck off my boat.”

Just like that, you’re dismissed. You know you don’t have to ask about the money, it’ll be in your account, split between you and Hoseok, before you even set foot back on the dock.

“What do you think?” you ask Hoseok once you’re both back in the Chevelle.

A slow smile curves his lips. “We’ll talk about his offer later. Right now, I think you owe me a fuck on the roof of the car and then once the sun goes down we’re going to light up that boutique like it’s Christmas.” You can’t help but mirror his smile at the idea.

There is a perfect spot right off the highway on the way back into town. It’s secluded, a small pull-off over a bluff. You can easily miss it unless you know where to look, as it’s tucked away just after a curve in the road. This spot has easily seen more of your bare ass than an actual bed has.

On the drive, you teased Hoseok by pulling off all your clothes to don the red silk dress you snatched earlier. You loved the way he could barely keep his eyes on the road. There was a hunger in his stare and the way he kept licking his lips. With the car parked, his attention is now fully on you. It has you burning from the inside out.

“Grab the blanket out of the back,” you tell him before slipping out into the chilly air. The sun is setting, taking its mild warmth with it. Being in a strapless, short silk dress has chill bumps dancing along your exposed skin. It feels good, just on this side of painfully cold.

The hood of the Chevelle is still warm. Hoseok stretches out the fleece blanket across the shiny candy apple red surface. He let you choose the color the last time the car got a makeover. It’s a classic color, one that reminds you of fierce passion and dangerous chemistry.

“Get your ass over here,” Hoseok growls, grabbing one of your wrists and tugging you toward himself so hard that you let out a huff of air when you hit his hard chest. “You’re in serious trouble, baby.”

You poke out your bottom lip in a faux pout. “Aw, what did I do?” you simper playfully. You reach up and twist a hand into his dark hair, bringing the one still clamped in his grip to his chest. “Haven’t I been good?”

Hoseok lets out a dark laugh. “Oh, no, baby. I don’t think you could ever be a good girl, not when you’re filthy as fuck…just the way I like you.”

Using the hand in his hair, you force his mouth down to yours. He makes an obscenely primal sound in the back of his throat, more animal than man. His teeth catch your bottom lip in a savage bite making you suck in a stilted breath of surprise. Hoseok takes his free hand and slides it up under the skirt of your dress, trailing his fingers along the inside of your thigh.

“Mmm,” you moan, finally managing to rip your lip from between his teeth. “Fuck me,” you demand. Hoseok shakes his head, a rueful smile on his face. He shoves you around until your back is to his chest. You have no choice but to pull your hand from his hair and use it to brace yourself on the hood of the car when he shoves you forward until the tops of your thighs hit the front grill on the Chevelle.

“I can never decide what I like best; when you mouth off and get demanding or when you poke out that bottom lip and act all demure and shit.” His hands land roughly on your hips, pressing you harder against the car as he slides up your dress to expose your bare ass. The bite of cold steel burns against your thighs with your dress rucked up around your waist now.

You wiggle back against him, teasing. “How about you shut up and fuck me already.”

The blistering smack of his open palm against your ass has all the air leaving your lungs in a whoosh. “Say it again. I dare you.”

There is already arousal pooling along your slit. Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear the rush of it in your ears. “Fuck. Me.” You enunciate the words, taking the bait because you know it’ll be worth it.

Hoseok shudders behind you. You hear the faint hiss of the zipper on his jumper sliding down. His slender fingers glide over the curve of your ass before sliding between your lower lips. “Your pussy is already weeping for me, it knows it’s about to be punished.”

You can barely hear him over your own ragged breathing. But, you’re so familiar with this song and dance you know what he’s saying without needing to hear the words clearly. A cry is wrenched from your throat as those toying fingers thrust inside in one quick motion.

The rhythm he sets is brutal. The air around you quickly fills with the smacking wet sounds of your body under assault from Hoseok’s touch. With his free hand, he gathers your wrists and pins them to the small of your back. You press a cheek against the fleece blanket, loving the way Hoseok dominates your body with both physicality and pleasure.

“No,” you whimper in protest when he suddenly pulls out his fingers, stealing away the orgasm that was quickly approaching.

Hoseok tuts softly, the sound coming out reminiscent of a purr. “What’s the safe word, baby?” he asks softly, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin of your wrists still pinned behind you.

“Burn,” you respond instantly. If Hoseok is asking for your safe word you know things are about to blur some lines.

You pant against the blanket, anticipation adding to the delightful ache between your thighs. There is a rustling of fabric behind you, what sounds like something being pulled against something else. A moment later you feel a length of fabric being wound around your wrists. The belt from Hoseok’s jumpsuit abrades the tender flesh with a gentle heat.

He pulls the knot tight, jerking your shoulders slightly. Satisfied, he hums in amusement as you begin to wiggle and test out the binding. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say you can. Do you understand?”

It takes you a moment to work enough moisture around your tongue to answer him. “Yes, sir.”

“Remember your safe word,” he says into the silence, like what he’s about to do requires a reminder so soon.

The distinct schick sound of a match head dragging along the strike strip on a matchbox is loud in the silence that follows his reminder. This is where the lines can blur. When you both ride a fine line between what you should do and what you actually want to do. You both want to experience the adrenaline rush that comes from the subtle kiss of a flame, but neither of you ever wants to hurt the other.

You feel the warmth from the match, smell the sulphuric burn in the air, before you hiss a breath between clenched teeth from the pinprick of pain as he snuffs the match out between one of your ass cheeks and his hip bone. You groan in unison, shuddering as you both get a hit of dopamine and a rush of endorphins.

The straining head of his cock bumps against your arousal-covered core. You can feel his quick breaths against your back as he lines himself up and then kicks his hips forward. Your forehead drops to the hood of the car and your scream is muffled into the blanket. From this position, Hoseok feels impossibly big. You love it.

Hoseok grips hard onto your hips, immediately setting a domineering pace that has you up on your toes and tears welling along your lash line.

“Oh god, oh god!” You bite into the blanket to keep from crying out too loudly.

“God doesn’t belong here, baby,” Hoseok grunts with a harsh laugh. “Nothing but me, you, and the devil inside of us.” Your walls flutter around him as you fight off the first wave of pleasure that threatens to make you cum. “Don’t you dare,” he admonishes, giving an extra brutal swivel of his hips before practically coming to a stop. “Fight it. That’s my girl.”

Pain meets pleasure and you ride a knife's edge between coherent thoughts and insanity. The intensity of Hoseok knows no bounds. Your ass aches, the small blister from the match getting repeatedly rubbed with every thrust as he renews his efforts once your struggle with control passes.

Though, you’re quickly back on that edge. “Hoseok,” you plead his name. “Please!” The second wave is harder to fight off than the first, your walls pulse in unison with his cock moving along them. He hits you just right, his thick head sliding against a spot that has your eyes squeezing shut. The way his hips press you forward has delicious pressure applied to your clit.

“Not yet, baby, not yet.”

Your response is a sobbed, “Please!” You dig your toes against the asphalt beneath them, never having bothered to put your shoes back on before getting out of the car. It’s a delirious feeling, trying to keep your body from a natural response like an orgasm. With every thrust, you slowly lose the battle. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, Hoseok finally relents.

“Cum for me, let go!” he moans loudly, hips jerking against your ass as his cock surges inside you. You can feel every pulse of his cum, deep within your undulating walls, making your own orgasm shudder through you. The pounding of your heart thuds heavily in your ears, mixing into a sultry melody with the breathy pants from Hoseok as he drapes over your back, boneless and spent.

You lay like that for several minutes, enjoying the comforting feel of each other. “You’re so good to me,” you murmur as he leans back enough to release your wrists from his belt.

Hoseok helps you to turn over so you’re sitting on the hood of the car, heedless of the cum dripping out of you onto the blanket. He takes each of your wrists and gently massages the red marks left behind. “I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me over the next two weeks, I swear it.”

He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. You can barely see his eyes in the dark since the sun has long since disappeared beyond the bluff and horizon. What you can see, though, is endless adoration and glittering promises. You press a lingering kiss to his lips before smiling.

“I’m going to be kind of sad to see Ricque’s go up in flames. You think we’ll have time to grab a few things before we torch it?”

That makes him laugh. “Absolutely,” he assures, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you around to your side of the car. “Anything for you, baby.”

The street is mostly dark at this time of night. Restaurant Kim is dark save for the dim recessed lighting above the hostess stand. Park Hotel’s lobby is brightly lit, but you see the night guard is nowhere to be seen. It makes you wonder if M is at work here, ensuring a successful hit on Ricque’s. He holds that kind of power, that kind of sway over an establishment. You’re also fairly certain M is in bed with the Parks or vice versa. The underground rumor mill never ceases on the topic of M.

You changed out of the red dress, draping it delicately over the tiny backseat of the Chevelle before pulling on some black jeans, a long-sleeve navy shirt, and your bomber jacket. The short-heeled boots you wear are comfortable and easy to run in if needed. Hoseok is still wearing his white jumpsuit, but it doesn’t stand out nearly as much as you thought it might.

“Best access point will be between the hotel and Ricque’s, we can go in through the back entrance.” Hoseok talks in a low whisper as you both survey the area around the boutique.

“She went to bed well over an hour ago,” you think aloud. When you and Hoseok pulled up down the street, you watched the lights in the loft flip on and off as Maudette moved between them until all that was left on was a small lamp in what you assume is the bedroom. Then, that too went out. “Should be good and deep in a sleep cycle by now.”

“Let’s go. I say we have about two hours to get this done before the city starts to wake up around here,” he estimates with one last glance around the quiet street.

It’s a casual thing, approaching the building. You and Hoseok act like you’re just a couple out on a late-night walk, your arm linked through his and grins curving your lips. To anyone that might see you on the off chance, you’d just be another faceless couple on the street.

When the service alley between the hotel and the boutique comes up you both easily slip into the shadows and skirt your way down to the backdoor of Ricque’s. It’s still appalling just how little security there is here. No camera above the door, no bars on the windows, no sensors or alarms to sound when Hoseok jimmies the lock open and pushes inside. Like stealing candy from a baby. Not that you’ve ever done that, you prefer bigger targets and better prizes.

“I know exactly what I want,” you murmur into the dark back room. “Get started and I’ll be back in less than five.”

You leave him there, unloading the small satchel that contains bottles of accelerant. It’s impossible to ignore the small money chest you know Maudette keeps under the front counter. The lock pops easily and you shove the handful of stacks into your jacket pocket before moving on to your main target; the jewelry.

As much as you’d like to grab another designer dress or a blouse, maybe even a new pair of jeans, you know you need to stick to small items that you can grab quickly without worrying about digging through the racks to find your sizes. The jewelry case is near the front windows, so you approach it with added caution.

The faint sound of Hoseok emptying the cans of kerosine carries to you from across the boutique, followed by the familiar yet pungent oily smell you associate with it. You know he’s coating the walls and shoving a few glass bombs—homemade contraptions involving mason jars with spark detonators attached to the bottoms of the lids—in the overhead ductwork. That’s something you both discussed at length, how best to destabilize the structure of the building to do max damage. Taking out the ceiling support tends to do the job most effectively.

Getting the jewelry case open is easy, it’s not the first time you’ve breached it. There’s easily a quarter of a mil in gold and jewels that go into your pocket opposite the stacks of cash. Ecstasy is a fine word to describe how this kind of stuff makes you feel. The thrill, the danger, it’s as intoxicating as Hoseok is.

“Psst, baby, ready to go back here,” Hoseok calls to you in a whisper-yell.

You shut the jewelry case door out of habit but don’t bother with the lock. The leather of your gloves creaks as you flex your hands, taking one last glance around before heading back to Hoseok. Something out of the corner of your eye stops you in your tracks and you backpedal a step, eyes focused out the front window from where you’re crouched by the jewelry case.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. A cold rush of panic douses the thrill from before. “Hoseok, we got to go!” Not wasting time trying to remain hidden, you spring into action dashing toward the back of the building. You hear shouts from outside following you.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, dropping the whispers as you have.

Before you can respond to him you see a distinct red circle light up in the center of his chest. You let your momentum carry you further, a small scream escaping as you hear the front glass of the boutique shatter and the echoing crack of a gun.

Bright white pain tears through your side, matching the bright flare of fire that ignites behind you. You land sprawled on top of Hoseok who’s yelling at you. “What the fuck! The lighter! Oh god, you’ve been shot!” His hands are all over you, tugging at your jacket and shirt.

Despite the blaring pain, you can tell it's superficial at most. “Just got clipped, I’m fine,” you hiss, shoving up into a crouch. The fire roars to life, quickly licking up the wall and leading right to one of the overhead vents. You cup your side, feeling liquid warmth soaking through your clothes. “We have to leave. Now! Before the roof comes down on us. That’s S.W.A.T outside, whatever happens…just go, please.”

Hoseok gives you a wild look, like the idea of getting separated or leaving you behind is ludacris. You know he’d rather die. It’s all or nothing. Together forever.

“I’ll never leave you,” he growls, fisting a hand in your hair and jerking your mouth to his for a quick, searing kiss. “Let’s go, baby, out the office window. That’s the best chance we’ve got.”

The front windows implode as you both scramble into the small office. With the front of the boutique open to the night air, the fire surges and consumes, fueled by the added oxygen. Heat beats against your back as Hoseok shoves open the small overhead window in the office. Smoke billows around you, making you cough and wheeze. Your side aches and every step you take makes you want to scream.

A rumbling crack shudders through the building, the ceiling supports moaning in protest to the fire eating away at them. “Go, I’ll be right behind you!” you have to yell over the roar of the fire and the yells from the S.W.A.T team and screaming horns from the fire engines out front.

You watch Hoseok disappear through the window just for his hand to reach back through for you. A smile momentarily graces your face before it’s replaced with a grimace as Hoseok helps hoist you up. Your side flares with a new wave of pain. A cold sweat breaks out along your forehead and your heart pounds with renewed panic when Hoseok finally gets you out of the window and onto the small roof of the maintenance shed beside the boutique.

“Two,” Hoseok whispers to you, nodding down toward the alley below. “I’ll get the one on the right if you can get the one on the left?” There’s a mild panic in his own eyes that you can tell he’s trying to ignore for your sake. He’s worried about you, you can see it in the way his eyes periodically flick to where your hand is clamped to your side.

You nod, using your free hand to pull out your switchblade. “Together,” you breathe.

“Together,” he echoes.

Killing people isn’t exactly something you enjoy. But, you don’t hesitate when it comes to your or Hoseok’s life for theirs. Hoseok executes a perfect drop-in, landing right on the shoulders of his guy and silencing his startled gasp by effortlessly snapping his neck. Your attack is slightly less graceful, but despite your bad fall, you make sure your blade lands true; right between the bottom of the guy's helmet and the top of his vest. His spinal cord shreds like damp paper beneath your blade.

Both guys fall with muted thumps to the ground. “Go!” you urge again. Hoseok wastes no time grabbing your free hand and hauling you along behind him toward the only viable escape now, along the backside of Restaurant Kim. The Chevelle is parked a few blocks away, thankfully in the opposite direction from the cacophony of activity and emergency vehicles.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!”

You’re pretty sure this is one of those piss-your-pants moments they talk about in movies. Though, your body is so high-strung with panic and adrenaline that you’re certain it’s lost all ability to function as it should. Hoseok doesn’t stop. You don’t want him to, either. But, you can’t help casting a glance back at the person who called out. If you’re going to get shot, again, you want to at least see who’s pulling the trigger.

“J.” His pseud comes out in a whisper but you might as well have screamed it. You’d recognize that hulking mass and stoic jawline anywhere. He’s dressed in full gear, a rifle raised in his hands pointed right at you. It’s silly, but you can feel his finger on the trigger, you know what’s about to happen.

But the shot never comes. Your gaze snaps from the gun back up to J’s espresso-colored eyes and you see at that moment he has no intention of pulling the trigger. That moment of hesitation is all you and Hoseok need to disappear out of sight.

The shouts of others joining J behind you carries faintly down the alley, barely heard over the pounding of your and Hoseok’s feet. He half-drags you all the way to the Chevelle. There are no words exchanged, just quick and near-panicked movements as he turns the engine over and peels away from the curb.

“Fuck!” he curses, slamming a hand against the steering wheel. “Baby, are you okay?”

You make a noncommittal noise because you, in fact, aren’t sure if you are okay. You’re pretty sure the bullet only clipped you but the pain in your side says it might be worse than you thought. Not life-threatening, though, unless infection sets in. You can’t go to a hospital. The small first aid kit in the trunk will have to do. But first, you both need to get as far away from here as possible.

Hoseok keeps driving, veering down another street, heading toward the outskirts of town and the coastline. When he slows down to take another turn, you glance out the window and meet the intense stare of M through a lowered car window. You can see the hatred there, flaring brightly as he realizes who he’s looking at.

“Hoseok,” you say softly into the quiet din of the car but loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the engine. “It was M.”

“What?”

“M must have ratted us out. The guy that almost got us in the alley was J and we just passed a car with M in it. It can’t be a fucking coincidence.” It’s hard to keep a level head and not scream at the top of your lungs.

Hoseok shifts in his seat. “I’ll kill him.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, making the leather creak and groan.

“We will kill him.” You say with barely restrained reverence. All the years of loyalty and big-brothering? Nothing compared to the betrayal you feel now. “He wants to play with fire? He’s going to get first-hand experience as to why they say when you play with fire you’re bound to get burned.”

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◅ Back to Master List ©️       2023   ColorMePurplex2

[girlreviews]

Review #162: Different Class, Pulp

I distinctly remember Pulp having their moment in the mid 90s. I was 7 when this record came out, and I burned into my brain is the sound of whatever cool young presenter was rotating in at that moment (I’ll say this was probably peak Zoe Ball/Jamie Theakston era) saying “it’s Friday, it’s seven thirty, it’s TOP OF THE POPS”, and you know, I really absorbed a ton of music being glued to that show so religiously but I particularly remember Pulp’s videos airing because I really felt it and was like, what is this?

That would have been either Disco 2000 or Common People, it doesn’t matter anyway because I love them both. There are a few songs in life that have massive commercial success and infiltrate general popular culture. Sometimes that can really spoil it, because it’s everywhere, it gets overplayed, people aren’t really listening to it, they’re missing the point. To be honest, all of that is probably true for both of these songs, but again it doesn’t matter because I’ve never stopped enjoying them. They’re just as good every time I hear them. Every time. How is that? How?

It’s the subject matter that they’ve chosen to focus on. A particular nostalgia and way of life. It’s the incredible detail that you only know if you know (wood chip on the wall). But mostly it’s the way the emotion seeps out of literally every sound, verbal and non-verbal. Sometimes Jarvis Cocker lets out these little tuts or gasps and you can just feel his disdain and the roll of his eyes. He whispers “Deborah” in such a way. He plays with his delivery and tone so that if you are paying attention you can pinpoint the exact points where he switches from sweet earnestness and sincerity to cutting sarcasm and biting, snarling social commentary that is seething in resentment. There are few artists that can take “ooooohs” and “yeahs” and pack it so full of emotion:

What are you doing Sunday baby?

Would you like to come and meet me maybe?

You can even bring your baby

Ooooooh, ooooh oooh ooooh oooh ooooh ooh

Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh!

On paper, you read that and think, that’s not great. But you hear it, and you think, damn that’s really something. How? HOW?

That’s just Disco 2000. I really am going to have a hard time not writing an entire dissertation on Common People. It’s incredible. The intro is just iconic, and everyone always loses their minds when it starts to play any time, any place. Rightfully so. It’s so clever. It’s so particular. It captures so well this very particular British feeling of hating, loathing, and having such disdain for rich people who cosplay as poor. We all know someone who’s been that person and it just rubs you the wrong way. Musicians and creatives especially who like to play pretend that they are starving artists when really they have a nice little bit of mailbox money and couldn’t even comprehend the reality of struggling with actual poverty. Their romanticization of being “working class” is condescending, insulting and pathetic. Summed up perfectly by this song, and delivered with absolute perfection, as if Jarvis is really trying to hold back losing his shit at someone. There’s a part where he inhales and holds his breath for a second, and it genuinely feels like he is fucking livid. Seething.

“Like a dog lying in a corner

They will bite you and never warn you

Look out, they'll tear your insides out

'Cause everybody hates a tourist

Especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh

Yeah and the chip stains and grease

Will come out in the bath

You will never understand

How it feels to live your life

With no meaning or control

And with nowhere left to go

You are amazed that they exist

And they burn so bright

Whilst you can only wonder why

Rent a flat above a shop

Cut your hair and get a job

Smoke some fags and play some pool

Pretend you never went to school

But still you'll never get it right

'Cause when you're laid in bed at night

Watching roaches climb the wall

If you called your dad he could stop it all

Yeah

Never live like common people

Never do what common people do

Never fail like common people

You'll never watch your life slide out of view

And then dance and drink and screw

Because there's nothing else to do”

Fuuuuuuck. You give us all of that, and on top of it, it’s an undeniable banger too. Iconic. I loved it when I was 7. I love it now. I’ll never, ever, be mad to hear this song.

Moving on, which I’m proud of myself for doing because it’s difficult for me to not spend more time picking apart Common People. I could easily go on, but instead I’m going to talk about Something Changed which is quite a different vibe from those two singles. It’s very sweet, and has lovely strings in it, just about how your life changes when you meet someone new and fall in love. Everyone spends time asking questions about how you ended up meeting, what if this, what if that? It’s really lovely. You can meet someone and suddenly everything is different — for better or worse.

Giving a nod to Sorted for E’s & Wizz, which, again, through their talent of perfectly describing specific scenes — I’m taken back to days of frequenting muddy festivals or going to some raggedy show at a pub in Camden that really felt like it wasn’t structurally sound and that if we didn’t stop dancing the top floor might actually fall beneath us. But it was okay you know, because we had our drinks and/or substances. Except, then comes the days following, which aren’t so good:

“In the middle of the night

It feels alright

But then tomorrow morning comes

Ooooh, ooooh and you come down”

Yes. You do.

2020 was the 25th anniversary of Different Class, and on social media it was being posted a lot with the question of what song was the best from the album. Everyone had a lot of opinions, of course, but my correct opinion is that Underwear is the best track. If for no other reason than for this line:

“If fashion is your trade

Then when you’re naked

I guess you must

Be unemployed, yeah”

Don’t go too much longer in your life without hearing this song. It’s classic Pulp, that same thing: earnestness, longing, sincerity, mixed with resentment and bitterness. Delivered perfectly. It’s like hearing someone expressing that they want to save someone that they kind of hate.

Something I think about all the time. And I mean all the time. Is how at the 1996 Brit Awards, Michael Jackson was performing Earth Song. It was this very hammed up thing where essentially he was portrayed as the messiah and it really obnoxious (although I loved this song, but in a comical kind of way, once sang it at karaoke — do not recommend). Anyway, Jarvis Cocker was genuinely appalled at the display and rushes the stage to moon MJ. What should have just been an amusing moment turned into a whole thing. There were children on stage and he was even questioned by police. It was all fine in that there was no serious wrong-doing found to have taken place, but his mental health sure did take a hit after that.

BUT I SWEAR, I swear, and I can’t find it and can’t find any evidence of it, but I swear on my life that in the following few weeks, Pulp were on TOTP again, and they made light of the situation by having Jarvis performing from a set that looked like a jail cell. It’s so specific I don’t feel like my brain could be making it up, but it’s possible I’m wrong.

They had broken up or at least gone on hiatus by the time I was old enough to see them live, which really hurt my heart. Fortunately they would reunite occasionally and I did get to see them at Hyde Park once. Now they actually tour fairly regularly, and are even returning to North America after a long-ass time, who knows. Maybe I’ll see them again. Maybe he’ll cover Earth Song (again, do not recommend).

[delayed-affection]

Chapter one

Season 2 Navigation Next

June 28, 1984

Men in hazmat suits work around a giant machine. A bald man smokes a cigarette, watching them from above. Two men in white coats walk over to him.

With a deep sigh one of them opens a case, two keys lay inside. Handing one to the other, they insert them into their slots. Nodding they turn the keys.

The giant machine powers up, electricity surges into it. It shoots into a wall, cracking it open. A creature squeals and stretches out, onto the wall.

The building starts to shake and the machines around starts to spark, it's too much for them to handle. The large device starts to go out and the wall closes on itself.

The machine shuts down but the built up electricity has no where to go. It shoots out from its sides, frying the men around.

The bald man puts out his cigarette and leads the others down to the machine. He walks up to the wall, putting his hand on it.

One man speaks up in Russian, "Comrade General. You can see. You can see our progress. We just need more ti-"

One of the guards grab the man by his throat, lifting him up off the ground.

The man walks up to the other white coat, "You have one year."

~

One year later.

Mike and El sit in her room making out before he breaks away starts to sing along with the radio, "And nobody wants to know you now."

He pretends to play the drums, "Nobody wants to show you-"

She tries to put her hand over his mouth, "Mike. Mike, stop! Stop!"

He grabs her wrist, "So if you're lost and on your own. You can never surrender."

She laughs, "Stop!"

"What, you don't like it?" He asks

"No!" She tells him

Hopper sits in the living room, stuffing his face with chips and salsa. Trying not to think about what could possibly be going on in her room.

Well curiosity killed the cat, he leans back in his chair.

Looking through the crack he finds them kissing, "Hey!"

They pull apart and she shuts the door completely.

He flings himself up off the chair, "Hey! Leave the door open three inches!"

He tries to open the door, "El, open this door. Open the-"

He pushes and the door burst open. They lay on two separate places on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Mike questions with a smile

~

Mike rides his bike talking to El on the walkie, "My god, that was priceless! Did you see his face?"

"It was like a tomato!" She laughs

"Yeah, a fat tomato." He replies

"I wish I was still with you." She confesses

"I know. Me too. But I'll see you tomorrow, all right? First thing." He assures

~

Mike pulls up to the brand new mall.

"You're late." Lucas scolds, "Again."

"We're gonna miss the opening." Will complains

"Yeah, if you guys keep whining about it." He argues, "Let's go!"

Lucas mimics him, " 'If you guys keep whining about.' Nyeh nyeh nyeh."

Mike hops off his bike, "Just please stop talking, dude."

"Let's me guess." Lucas says leading them into the mall, "You were busy."

He makes some kissy noises.

"Oh, yeah, real mature, Lucas." He quips

He starts to tease him, "Oh, El, I wish we could make out forever, and never hang out with any of our friends."

"Lucas, stop." Max says

"Will thinks it's funny." He argues

"Because it is." Will chimes

Mike throws his hands up, "Yeah, it's so funny that I want to spend romantic time with my girlfriend."

"I'm spending romantic time with my girlfriend." Lucas tells him

They push their way down the crowded escalator, receiving glares and grunts from the people they shove.

Mike runs right into a girl while getting off the escalator.

"Watch it!" She exclaims walking away

"Yeah! Watch it, nerd!" Erica comments

"Isn't past your bedtime?" Lucas asks

She watches them walk past, "Isn't it time you died."

Her friends laugh, liking her comeback.

"Psycho!" He calls her

They continue to call each other names until he blows her a raspberry.

Max grabs his arm, "Oh, now that was mature."

They head into Scoops Ahoy and Mike rings the bell rapidly in front of the workers face.

"Hey, dingus, your children are here." She says

The window behind her slides open, "Again? Seriously?"

Mike hits the bell once more and Steve leads them to the back room, letting them use the workers hallway.

He watches them walk down the hall, "I swear, if anybody hears about this-"

"We're dead!" They say in unison

Mike peeks his head into the Movie theater hallway, "All clear."

They all file in, following Mike into one of the movies, "See Lucas we made it."

"We missed the previews." He whispers sitting down.

"Still made it. Fart face." Max smiles

Right when the movie was about to start the power goes out. However, it's not just the mall that goes out, it's all of Hawkins.

~

In an old abandoned warehouse grows a dark mist, the same mist that was seen coming out Will and trying to stop El from closing the gate.

~

Just as fast as the power went out it comes back on. The crowded theater cheers and the rest of the mall continues to do what they were doing before.

Will is the only one not cheering, instead he looks scared. He puts his hand up to his neck, getting flashbacks of everything the Upside Down put him through.

"Hey." Mike says

Will comes back to reality with a short gasp.

"You okay?" He worries

"Yeah." He answers

"You sure?" He asks

He nods, "Of course."

~

Nancy shoots awake, "Shit!"

Jonathan gets up from bedside her, "Wh- What's wrong?"

She grabs her watch, "It's almost nine. We forgot to rest the clocks. The power went out last night, remember?"

They rush to get ready.

Nancy throws her shoes out the window, her body falling soon after. She runs around the house, trying not to be seen.

Jonathan leaves his room.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Joyce calls, "Wait up."

"Oh, no, I'll eat at work." He says, "I'm late."

She grabs his arm, "No. Your cheek."

She rubs off the reminisce of Nancy's lipstick.

He pulls away, "I gotta run. See you later."

Will huffs from the table, "Ugh. Gross."

She sits down and joins him, "Well, I don't think you're gonna think it's gross when you fall in love."

He can't bring himself to look at her, "I'm not gonna fall in love."

She notices something on the floor, getting up to check it out, "Hey, what happened here?"

She picks up the fallen magnets and picture, putting them back up on the fridge.

~

"Can you please drive faster?" Nancy pleads

"Do you want to break down? We're lucky this thing still drives at all." He say's tapping the dashboard.

Nancy applies some blush, "I'm serious, Jonathan, I can't be late."

"You mean we can't be late." He corrects

"No, I mean I can't be late. They like you no matter what you do." She argues

"Hey, they like you too." He assures

She laughs, "Yeah. They like that I'm a coffee delivery machine. They don't actually like me or respect me as a living, breathing human with a brain."

"Wait, you just- you just gotta be patient, okay?" He tells her, "They're set in their ways. But... once they realize what a gifted writer you are, they'll come around."

Her panic and bitterness come through, "I really don't need a Jonathan Byers pep talk right now. Can you just... please drive faster?"

~

Dustin talks into his walkie, "This is Gold Leader, returning to base. Do you copy? Over. This is Gold Leader, returning to base. Do you copy? Over."

He turns to Y/n, "Why aren't they answering? You would think that they would respond after all this time."

She shrugs, "Are we even in range yet? You've been talking into that thing for the past ten minutes."

He huffs, "I'm in range, they should be answering. I repeat: This is goddamn Gold Leader-"

Y/n keeps one hand on the wheel and snatches his headset with the other, "There's no need to yell, dude. Just try again when we get home."

He groans, "I've been gone a month the least they can do is answer."

Not to long after they pull into the driveway, their mom waiting outside for her Dusty. They exchange hellos and hugs before the now crankier Dustin makes his way to his room.

He slams his bag down onto his bed, sitting down beside it.

"Jeez, take it easy, Dust." Y/n says walking into his room.

"No I will not take it easy!" He exclaims, "I've been gone for a month and they've forgotten about me!"

A distorted robot voices draws their attention, a little toy robot comes waddling into the room.

Dustin looks back at his sister, "Is that you?"

She holds her hands up, "That's not me."

He starts to worry when R2-D2 starts rolling around, then his clapping monkey starts to go off.

He stands up as more gadgets and toys start to come to life, they watch as they all head out his door.

Dustin grabs his hairspray, "Stay behind me."

They follow them out of the room and into the living room.

Y/n looks over to where his friends hiding, while he tries to convince himself that it's all just a dream.

"Now." Mike whispers to El.

The toys power down leaving Dustin confused, he kneels down and grabs one, not letting go of his hairspray.

Y/n motions for the group to come out. Lucas holds up a welcome home sign as the rest blow on horns.

Dustin freaks out, he jumps up and screams. He sprays the hairspray right into Lucas' eyes, making everyone else freak out.

~

Mrs. Wheeler and her mom friends sit out by the pool In lounge chairs, waiting for a certain someone.

The woman next to her lowers her sunglasses, "Ladies. She's coming down."

They all watch as the lifeguard leaves her post. They quickly adjust themselves for the next one to take their post, wanting to look their best.

"And... showtime." She says

Billy walks out from the changing room, very aware of eyes on him.

He blows his whistle, "Hey, lard-ass! No running on my watch!" The entire place falls quiet, "I gotta warn you again, and you're banned for life. You wanna be banned for life, lard-ass?"

The kid shakes his head, afraid to even speak.

He blows his whistle again, "Didn't think so."

The place is back to being as lively as before.

He walks past the moms, "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Afternoon, Billy." They reply in unison

"Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler." He tells her

"Thank you." She replies mid pose.

~

The town stores are empty, not a person anywhere. Besides Joyce, who's hanging up a sale sign in the store front window.

The door jingles and in walks Hopper, "You busy?"

"You're our first customer." She confesses, "What now?"

Hopper goes on this whole tangent about El and Mike, and what they've been up to in her room.

"You know, it is that smug son of a bitch, Mike." He tells her, "He corrupting her, I'm telling you. And I'm just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce."

She walks down a different isle, "Just take it down, Hopper."

"I need for them to break up." He informs

"That is not your decision."

He gets up from his spot, "They're spending entirely too much time together. You agree with me about that, right?"

"Well, I mean, they're just kissing, right?"

"Yeah, but it is constant." He nags, "It is constant. Okay? That is not normal, that is not healthy.”

She shrugs, "You can't just force them apart. I mean, they're not little kids anymore, Hop. They're teenagers. If you order them around like a cop, then they're gonna rebel. It's just what they do."

"So, what, I'm just supposed to let them do whatever they want?" He questions

"No, I didn't say that." She says marking an item, "I think you should... talk to them."

"No. No. Cause talking doesn't work." He claims

"Not yelling. Not ordering." She clarifies, "But talk to them. You know, like a heart to heart."

He throws an apple, "A heart to heart? What is that?"

"You sit them down and you talk to them like you're their friend. I find if you talk to them like you're on their level, then they really start to listen." She explains, "And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries."

"Boundaries." He thinks out loud

"Yeah, but, Hop, it's really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm. You cannot lose your temper."

He taps the wall, "Maybe you could do it for me?"

She shakes her head, "No."

He walks over to her, "Yeah, you could. Yeah, you could. You come over after work. Yes."

"No." She answers, "It only works if it comes from you. But... Maybe I can help you... find the right words."

~

Nancy power walks her way to work, checking her watch to see if she's going to make it in on time. Walking into the Hawkins post she starts to hand out everyone's food orders.

Starting with the woman at the front desk she moves through the building, ending at a office full of men.

She goes to leave but stops herself at the door, wanting to join in on their conversation.

She turns back to face them, "What about Starcourt?"

They all look at her with disinterest, not liking her input.

She continues, "I was just... thinking... I mean I know everyone loves the mall, but... how many small businesses have closed since it opened? Like, five on Main, at least. It's changing the fabric of our town in a way-"

A fake tanned man cuts her off, " 'The Death of Small-Town America.' I like it a lot. But I think I've got something even spicier. It's about the missing mustard on my hamburger."

All men burst into laughter, thinking that it was the funniest thing in the world.

"You think you can follow the clues and solve the case of the missing condiment, Nancy Drew?"

Her face drops and she lets out a broken, "Sorry." Grabbing his burger from him.

She leaves the office and let's go of the breath she been holding.

~

Lucas' face is under running water in the kitchen,   Y/n tries her best to gently flush his eyes out.

"Ow, ow, ow." He says pulling his head away

"Better?" Max asks

He rubs his eyes, "Still stings."

Y/n turns off the water, "It's the best I could do, seeing as your not really injured."

"Thanks." Max tells her

She nods and leaves the two alone.

He stops rubbing his eyes and points at Max's face, "Is that a new zit?"

Max turns the water back on, "What is wrong with you?"

She drags his head back under the water.

"I was just asking!" He screams

Dustin stands in his room, showing off his work, "I call it... the Forever Clock. All right? Powered by wind. Very useful in the apocalypse."

"Looks like a bunch of popsicle sticks." Y/n says from the doorway.

"Hush." He replies handing it over Will and pulls out something else, "Then, I give you... the Slammer."

He points it towards El and Mike, making her move back.

He giggles, "Pretty neat, huh? But this... this is my masterpiece."

He drops a duffel bag on the floor, they all sit around it.

He unzips the bag, "I would like you to meet... Cerebro."

"What exactly are we looking at here?" Mike questions

"An I assembled one of a kind battery powered radio tower." He smiles

"So... it's a... a ham radio." Will voices

"The Cadillac of ham radios." He claims, "This baby Carrie's a crystal clear connection over vast distances. I'm talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose."

"Girlfriend?" They all ask in unison

They all follow him down the hall as he informs them on his girlfriend.

"Wait her name is Susie?" Mike asks

"Suzie with a 'z.' She's from Utah." He answers

"Girls go to science camp?" Will questions more to himself.

"Suzie does. She's a genius." He says

"Is she cute?" Mike asks

"Think Phoebe Cates, only hotter." He gushes

Max sees them all walk out the front door, "What's going on?"

"We're going to talk to Dustin's girlfriend." Y/n informs

"Girlfriend?" Max and Lucas asks

She motions for them to follow, "I know, come on."

~

Steve scoops some ice cream into a cone, "Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That a buck twenty five. Anything else?"

The pretty customer hands him the money but he wants to try his luck with her.

He reads her sweater, "Ooh, Purdue. Fancy."

She flashes him a pretty smile, "Yeah, I'm excited."

He puts the money into the register, "Yeah, you know, I considered it, Purdue, but then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college, see what it feels like. Kinda like, uh, I don't know, see what it's like to earn a working man's wage, you know? Uh..."

The girl is not longer interested in the conversation, "Yeah, totally."

"Yeah, anyway, this was, like, so fun." He says, "We should kind of like, you know, I don't know, maybe hang out this weekend or- " he drops her change, "Oh sorry about that. I don't know. Maybe next weekend or-"

"Yeah, I'm busy." She replies as kindly as she can.

"Oh, that's cool. I'm- I'm working here next weekend, so... the following weekend's better for me."

She shakes her head, "No. I'm sorry, I can't. Okay. Thanks."

She walks away with her friend, unable to endure anymore flirting.

"And another one bites the dust." His coworker says marking a whiteboard, "You are oh-for-six, Popeye."

"Yeah, yeah, I can count." He quips looking at the 'You rule-You suck'

"You know that mean you suck." She replies

He nods, "Yep, I can read, too."

"Since when?" She asks

He walks over to her, "It's this stupid hat. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature."

She puts the board away, "Yeah, company policy is a real drag. You know, it's a crazy idea, but have you considered... telling the truth."

"Oh, you mean, that I couldn't even get into Tech and my douchebag dads trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?" He argues

She sees a group of girls walk in, "Hey, twelve o'clock."

He looks over, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Okay... Uh... I'm going in. Okay? And you know what?" He throws hit hat behind her, "Screw company policy."

"Oh, my god, you're a whole new man." She jokes

"Right? Ooh." He chuckles

He turns around and basically yells at the girls, "Ahoy, ladies! Didn't see you there. Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain. I'm Steve Harrington."

~

Hopper sits with Joyce going over what he's going to say to El and Mike, "I know this is a difficult conversation to have... I hope you know that I... care about you very much. And I know that you-"

She cuts him off, "Eye contact."

He sighs, "And I know that you... both care about each other very much. This does not sound like me at all."

"Just keep going. Come on."

He takes a deep breath, "Which is why I think it's important to establish these boundaries... moving forward..." he looks at his paper

"No looking. You know this." She assures, "Come on."

He continues, "...so we can build an environment... Uh... where we... all feel comfortable and trusted and open..."

"Share our feelings." She whispers

"... to sharing our feelings-" he cuts himself off, "This isn't gonna work. Um, it's not gonna work. It's not gonna work."

"Yes, it will! I promise." She replies, "Oh, come on."

"Maybe I'll just kill Mike." He says sitting next to her, "I'm chief of police, I could cover it up."

She pats his hand, "You got this. I promise."

The two of them look at each other, their gazes softening.

"You wanna have dinner tonight?" He asks, "You can give me some more pointers."

She moves her hand away from his, "Oh, I... Um... I have plans."

He looks away from her, "Okay, sure."

The door jingles, she hops off the counter, "Oh, a customer. Hey, Carol!"

~

The group pants, climbing up a hill for Dustin.

"Aren't we high enough?" Lucas asks

"Cerebro works best at a hundred meters." He answers

"You know, I'm pretty sure people in Utah have telephones." Max comments

"Yeah, but Suzie's Mormon."

"Oh, shit. She doesn't have electricity?" Lucas questions

"That's the Amish." Y/n corrects

"What are Mormons?" Will asks

"Super religious white people." Dustin replies, "They have electricity and cars and stuff but... since I'm not Mormon, her parent would never approve. It's all a bit... Shakespearean."

"Shakespearean?" Max questions

"Yeah. Like Romeo and Juliet." He smiles

"Right."

He continues, "Star crossed lover."

"I got it." She says

"Hey, guys!" Mike shouts from behind, "This is fun and all but." He taps his watch.

"I have to go home." El claims

"We're almost there." Dustin argues

"Sorry, man." Mike replies, "Curfew."

"Good luck." El wishes him as Mike pulls her away.

Dustin looks at his watch, "Curfew at four?"

"They're lying." Lucas comments

"It's been like this all summer." Will informs

"It's romantic." Max chimes

"Yeah." Y/n agrees

"It's gross." Will argues

"It's bullshit." Dustin states, "I just got home. It's their loss, right? Onwards and upwards! Suzie awaits!"

They all groan following him to the top of the hill.

Will stands still in his spot, grabbing to back of his neck. He looks down the hill, an eerie feeling fills him.

"Will, come on!" Dustin exclaims

He rushes up to his friends while a trail of mice run across field.

~

Hundreds if not thousands of mice race into an abandoned building and into the basement where they meet their death.

The floor is covered in blood and guts, mice combusting one after the other.

~

Mrs. Wheeler does back strokes in the pool, fully aware she's got the attention of a certain Life Guard. Billy takes off his sunglasses, watching as she makes her way through the water.

She climbs out of the pool and is greeted by Billy.

"Looking good out there, Mrs. Wheeler."

She sighs pushing her hair back, "Thank you."

He hands her a towel, "Perfect form."

"Well... your form is amazing." She confesses

He chuckles, not expecting her to be so forward.

She tries to backtrack, "I'm sorry, I mean, I... I've seen you... uh, teaching... lessons. Swimming lessons."

"You know, I could, uh... I could teach you, if you like." He replies, "I know all the styles. Freestyle. Butterfly. Breaststroke."

Mrs. Wheeler is completely entranced by him that she drops her towel.

He picks it up and hands it to her, "You okay?"

"I didn't think you... I didn't think you taught adults."

"Well, I offer more, uh... advanced lessons to select clientele." He smiles, "Come to think of it, there is a good pool out at a Motel 6 on Cornwallis. It's very quiet. You know, very private. Shall we say tonight? Eight o'clock?"

She honestly thinks about it for second, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Cant what? Have fun?" He asks, "Mrs. Wheeler!"

She laughs, "No. I... I... I just, uh... I don't think I need lessons."

"Oh, you see, I think you do. I just don't think that you've had the right teacher." He says lowering his voice.

"I, uh..." she trials

"It will be the workout of your life." He assures

She looks up at him a smiles.

~

Dustin drops his bag at the top of the hill, "Made it."

Everyone else slowly makes it up.

"Yeah, only took five hours." Max complains

"Why couldn't we just play D&D?" Will huffs

"I'm so thirsty." Lucas comments dropping one of Dustin's bags.

He opens up his canteen and drinks what's left inside.

Max watches and listens as he loudly gulps it down, "Did you seriously just drink the rest of our water?"

He spits some back into the canteen and hands it to her with a smile.

Max shakes her head and walks away from him.

"You're so gross." Y/n chimes having watched everything.

She pulls out her water and hands it to Max.

Max happily takes it, “Thank you.”

“Now what was wrong with the water I offer you?” Lucas asks

They both give him a look that reads ‘be serious’.

They soon forget about the water and move onto building the Radio Tower. Piece by piece it slowly comes together.

They look up at the now standing tower.

"Pretty impressive, right?" Dustin asks, "Now, you ready to meet my love?"

In response he gets a series of yes'.

Dustin sits on the floor and grabs the mic, "Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

Static.

He holds his finger, "One sec. She's probably... She's still there. Suzie... this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

Nothing.

"I'm sure she's there. It's just- You know, maybe she's, like, busy or- It's around dinner time."

They all silently agree with him.

He tries again, "Suzie, do you copy? This is Dustin. Over."

Once again his is met with static.

~

Joyce walks through her front door, "Hey, guys, I'm home."

No response.

"Guys?" She calls out, "Hello?"

With no one home she decides to heat up some leftover lasagna and pour herself a glass a wine.

She sits in front of the tv and starts to think about Bob.

~

Bob laughs at the tv, “Ah, they’re funny, don’t you think?”

Joyce giggles, “Yes.”

“I just wish they’d get back together again already.” He says rubbing her back.

She looks up at him, “Me too.”

They share a quick kiss and turn back to the tv.

~

She smiles at the thought of him and cuts into her lasagna.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen the magnets on the fridge begin to shake. They all lose their magnetic hold to the fridge, dropping to the ground.

~

Nancy stands in the office, throwing away all the trash the grown men left behind.

The phone rings making her rush over.

She takes off her gloves and picks it up, “Hawkins Post.”

She listens to the other line, “Um, hold on, I’m- I’m sorry can you- can you repeat that?”

She pulls out a pen and note pad, writing down the person’s address and what they’re calling for. She underlines the words ‘Diseased Rats’.

~

El and Mike are back at her house, making out to ‘Can’t fight this feeling’ by Roe Speedwagon.

Hopper lays in his bed hugging a pillow, “…why it’s important to establish these boundaries… moving forward, so that we can create an environment where… you feel comfortable and trusted and open.”

He sighs looking at his paper, “…to share our feelings.”

He grunts getting out of the bed, pushing open he makeshift curtain door.

He knocks on El’s door, “Hey.”

“Yes?” She responds

“Can I talk to you guys a minute?” He asks

The door opens letting him in.

He stands in the door way and looks at them sitting in two separate places, “Hi.”

“Hi.” They say in unison.

He moves one of the chairs in the room to sit in front of them.

They all just sit there, looking at each other, not knowing what to say or do.

Hopper turns off the music, “Um…”

He’s rehearsed what he was going to say hundreds of time but now it’s like, he’s forgotten everything.

The two of them lean forward, growing impatient with what he has to say.

Hopper rubs his chin, “What, I, uh… needed to say to you… what I wanted to say to you… is that, um.”

“Uh-oh.” Mike chimes, “I think we’re in trouble.”

He starts to laugh making El laugh too.

“No.” Hopper says, “No, nobody’s in trouble, okay? I just, um…”

He watches as Mike whispers into El’s ear making her laugh again.

That’s the last straw for him, “You know what? Your mom called.”

Mikes face fills with confusion, “What?”

He nods, “Yeah. She needs you home right away.”

“Is everything okay?” He asks

“No, I don’t think so. It’s your grandma.” He claims

His face drops, Hopper leads him outside away from El. Mike is seriously worried, asking every question he think of.

They get in his truck and Hopper finally comes clean.

“Nothing! There’s nothing wrong with Nana!”

“What?”

“But…” He starts, “There’s something very wrong with this thing between you and El.”

“Oh, you lying piece of shit!” Mike exclaims trying to get out of the truck but Hopper locks the door every time he tries to unlock it, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” He grumbles, “You want to see real crazy? You disrespect me again. Okay? Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m gonna drive you home. And I’m gonna speak… and you’re going to listen. And then, maybe… maybe by the end of it, maybe if you’re lucky, maybe… I will continue to allow you to date my daughter.”

He looks over to Mike, “Nod if you understand!”

Mike quickly nods.

~

The sun has gone down and the moon has fully risen.

Dustin continues to try to reach Suzie, “… do you copy, this is Dustin. Over. Suzie! This is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

His friends and sister lay on hill, it’s been hours and he hasn’t given it a rest.

“Dustin, come on! She’s not there.” Max voices

“Just try again some other time.” Y/n adds

“She’s there, all right? She’ll pick up.” He claims

“Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.” Will says

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues

“She exists!” He assures them

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.” Lucas replies

Max sits up, “Is that so?”

Lucas is quick to get up, “I mean… you’re perfect. I mean, like, per- perfect in your own way. In your special- your own special way.”

She chuckles, “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin’s obviously lying.”

She stands up, “Come on, Don Juan.”

Dustin watches as Max and Lucas walk down the hill, “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Max answers

“Well… I guess is just us guys.” Dustin says

Will gets up, “Um… it’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play D&D. Or something fun. Like we used to?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies

“Welcome home.” He tells him before following the others.

“Yeah. Welcome home.” He says to himself

Y/n sits up, “I’m still here if you want to keep trying.” She looks at her watch, “We have another hour til we have to be home.”

He smiles at her and then the radio starts to pick something up. He stumbles over his things and on to the ground.

He picks up the mic, “Suzie? Suzie, is that you?”

Y/n moves next to him, they listen in and it’s a man speaking a Russian. Dustin turns up the volume.

~

A Russian man sits in a coms room, speaking into mic, reciting something over and over again.

A man in a white lab coat walks into the room and through another door. Back to the room that holds a giant machine.

~

Mrs. Wheeler stands in her bathroom, getting ready to meet up with Billy. She looks down at her wedding ring, she gives it a second thought but then takes it off.

Walking down stairs she finds her husband asleep in his chair with their daughter Holly sleeping in his lap.

~

Billy is naturally speeding down the streets of Hawkins, riding on the high of getting with a milf, a cougar.

He looks at himself in his rear view mirror, “Hey Karen. You don’t mind if I can you Karen, do you? Good.”

Something smashes into his window sending him drifting to stop. He lands right in the embankment of an abandoned building.

He groans looking at the damage, “Oh, no. No. Piece of shit.”

He touches the gash on his head, “Shit. Damn it.”

He gets out starts hitting his car, “Damn it! Piece of shit!”

He slams his door and goes over to the hood, steam hiss out from under. He touched the crack on his window, a wet and sticky substance was left behind by whatever hit it.

Something shrieks in the distance making him look over.

“Who’s there?” He calls out, “Hey! I said, who’s there?”

Something grabs his ankle yanking him to the ground. He screams as it pulls him into the building.

Tag list: @alexa4040

[the-fiction-witch]

Don’t Let Go

Media IRL X Titanic 

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas x Reader

Rating Sweet

Concept Don’t let go

Warnings Panic attacks, Suicide Attempts 

I found myself utterly unable to withhold my excitement looking up at the beautiful ship. The whole thing seemed to glimmer and sparkle as it sat in the Portsmouth waters. People everywhere rushed about to get everyone onboard for the departure in only a few short minutes. 

"Papers if you please ladies" the young porter smiled at the bottom of the wooden jetty 

"Of course here you are" the two women smiled handing over their paperwork he stamped and signed them handing over a set of keys and allowing them though

"Papers if you please miss" he smiled at me so I handed mine over. He stamped them, signed them and took the keys in his hands "traveling alone?" He asked 

"Yes sir, always" I nodded 

"Well do be careful miss"

"Thank you" I smiled taking my keys and my paperwork, I stepped through the checks with my bag in hand I stared down at my ticket for a moment at the dates, the names, my room and deck numbers all of it even then I knew would be important someday that I was holding in my hand a tiny piece of history little did I know on this very moment the reason why this would truly go down in history. For a moment I was unable to walk, looking at the small sculpted wood and the one thick rope on either side that would protect me from the deep blue of the ocean below. My heart raced but I walked holding my bag tightly as I slowly walked up the jetty and into the ship taking a breath At Last the moment I got inside. There were signs on the walls so I began to follow them down the stairways and corridors until I reached the little room that would be my own for the next seven days I unlocked the room heading inside to the small but cosy room with no windows and a single light above my head the light switch beside the door. A bunk bed to the side, the bottom bunk replaced with a small sofa. I set my bag down and locked my door eager to get unpacked. 

I had been careful to not seem too inviting, and to keep my doors locked at all possible times as a woman traveling alone has its risks. 

I had taken my journal for the day I had begun in the third class common room sitting alone in a small corner watching and listening.

'for a moment or two you'd be hard pushed to recall we were at sea, in fact miles from the nearest landmass within these walls here you'd swear we were a few times from Oxford Circus down a back alley inside a pub on a Saturday afternoon, the rabble of sounds and smells the same. The general laughing of accented men over the tools and tricks of their trades, children running around and yelling from over excitement often the cries of newborns exclaim. The smell of smoke and dirt in the air was not quiet enough to break the scent of the salty sea air from outside on the deck but the battle was ongoing. People chatted with folks they would never have known before, children playing with newly made friends, all of this going on atop a freshly polished floor, new wooden benches and lights that have never before these last few days been known as illumination.’

I took my journal and headed out of the common room taking a small walk along the promenade or at least the section of it I was allowed on with merely a third class ticket I did my best not to look at the vast endless ocean even if it was beautiful, I found it just brought me terrible memories. I walked past a few people smoking outside looking around the sweet ship as I did I spotted the first class promenade, such beautiful ladies with impressive hair and dresses, men in impressive suits for a moment I caught the eye of a young man as he leant on the railing cigarette in hand in a well fitted blue suit I smiled a little at him and he gave me half hollow smile before walking on with some others. 

I laid on my little bed unable to shut out the sounds of water crashing and moving the ship around me, no matter what I couldn't help flooding back into the hints of my memory

"Y/n!"

"Daddy!" 

"Don't let go!"

The utter shock and numbness of cold enough to jolt me awake. I sighed and climbed down slipping my dress and shoes on heading out though the slightly rocking corridors and up to the promenade it was eerie to see the dark sea and dark sky like we were just in an endless void if not for the lights of the ship. I walked up and down trying to make myself sleepy every so often. Staff would walk past most of them heading inside. I looked across the ship, it was so strange to see it so empty, but I noticed I wasn't alone. I saw a man across the way on the starboard side of the ship in the first class section in a fitted blue suit or was then I noticed it was the say guy as I had seen earlier in the day I went to wave to him but he too was passing back and forth barely looking up. He hooked his jacket off throwing it on one of the wooden benches close to him, I didn't think much of it perhaps he was hot or something, I found myself utterly captivated by him as he passed around often running a hand through his hair, I moved as close as I could looking at him as he moved he seemed fantic, panicked, his face red tears flooding down his cheeks he unbuttoned the waistcoat throwing it with his jacket leaving him in his white shirt and black suspenders and of course his blue pants he grabbed the railings of the ship twisting them in his hand something wasn't right. 

"Hello?" I called across the ship it echoing in the darkness

He didn't move

"Are you okay?" I asked 

I he moved back and I relaxed a little seeing him sit on the bench with his clothes, I went to continue my walking but I couldn't look away as he picked his leg up and began untying his shoes 

"Sir?" I called but he was undeterred or couldn't hear me losing both his shoes and marching to the edge grabbing the railing and the moment his foot touched the railing as a move to climb over it I grabbed my dress and bolted as fast as I could across the wooden deck jumping over the barriers and ropes preventing the mix of classes by the time I reached the first class area he was already over the other side his hands grip all that held him on the ship "no please!" I yelled grabbing the railing making him slightly jump to see me I was right he was crying, eyes bloodshot, his whole body shaking

"Stay back!" He demanded 

"Please - please - just listen"

"Leave me alone" 

"No. No please it's okay it's okay"

"It's not okay! Please just go. Leave me alone"

"No. I won't leave I promise I'm right here, you really dont wanna do that"

"Now do you know what I want!" 

"I don't you're right I don't. All I know is that's a really really long way down. And it's not quick. It's not painless. The only thing I can guarantee is there's no going back. If you let go" I told him and he seemed for a moment to calm down "just breathe okay. Big breath in big breath out" he did as I told him so I walked him though a few breaths each one getting slower 

"It'll hurt?"

"Oh god yes. People talk about drowning like it's quick. Like it's numb but… I can tell you first hand you're completely aware of what's happening. You're aware how deep, how long you have left, and how deathly cold you are. And the cold doesn't make you go numb as you'd expect. It's more a shocking change that feels like someone stabbing a knife onto you everywhere. Sorry that's probably not helping"

"No… that helps" he says, readjusting his hands a little "please just go. I don't want anyone to see me. And I don't want you to get in trouble"

"I don't care about that. All I care about is you. I'm not going anywhere I promise what's your name?"

"Son of mark, heir to the west elm estate and -" he began

"Your name not your title" I giggled 

"T-thomas" he choked up a little 

"Hi Thomas" I smiled

"Hi" 

"I want you to do something very important for me Thomas. Tell me three things you can see"

"... The railing."

"Good. That's good"

"The water"

"Okay, waters cool very pretty"

"You."

"Yes. I'm here. I'm here right beside you. What's three things you can hear?"

"... Uhhh the water…. You… I can't hear anything else"

"That's okay. That's okay, two things is enough. Three things you feel just keep focused"

"I feel the wind."

"How is the wind?"

"Cold, b-blustery I suppose" 

"That's a good word. I like that word. something else"

"I feel the railing."

"How does that feel?"

"Cold."

"Where does it feel cold?"

"My hands. My feet."

"Okay that's okay. One more"

"I feel my heart"

"Okay what's your heart doing?"

"Beating very fast"

"Just breathe, keep breathing it won't feel so fast. Does that help?"

"Yeah. That helps…. Thank you"

"You're welcome. What uhh, what are you doing over the railing tonight?"

"I…. I don't know." He said trying not to cry

"That's okay. It's fine not to know." I smiled "do you want to let go?"

"I did … I- I'm not sure anymore"

"Please… don't let go"

"What does it matter. No One's going to notice"

"Thomas. This is a big ship I'll grant you but it's a boat. You're not on It later people will notice. You got on but never got off that's something people will remember I promise you that" I reassured him "please just come back over" I offered my hand to him and for the first time he really looked at me tears staining his face 

"You don't understand. This… this is the only way out"

"I promise you it isn't. I promise there is another way out their always is" I told him "and we'll find it together" I smiled moving closer offering my hand still he glanced back and forth between my hand and the water "please just come back over" 

".......okay" he sniffled slowly and carefully. Taking my hand slowly he turned to face the ship and I helped him where I could as he nervously stepped over the railings climbing over to be back on the deck where we both let out a breath "thank you miss. I… I don't even know your name"

"Y/n"

"Y/n. Thank you y/n" 

"That's okay, it's no trouble at all" I smiled letting him sit on the bench with his clothes and I sat beside him 

"You knew what I was gonna do. Didn't you?"

"I had. Nervous feeling, yes."

"How'd you know?" 

"Shaking. Mostly. But your whole deminter. Could tell a mile away something was wrong."

"I've been sat at dinner with my father all night. Not even a meter away. He couldn't tell anything was wrong"

"For some of us it's easy to see. Some of us with experience"

"That's far from the first time you've done that? Is it?"

'I'm so sorry baby girl. I'm so sorry'

"No. It's not" 

"Sorry I don't want to -"

"It's okay. My father. Talked him down more then once"

"You're sweet. Maybe you're a… reverse Siren."

"A reverse Siren?" I giggled

"Use your magic words and voice to, not make men jump in the ocean" 

"Maybe. Happy to do so though. You feel better?"

"A bit. Yeah."

"What made you feel that way? If I can ask?"

"... Expectations. Enough said"

"Fair enough" I nodded "I'm just happy you feel okay" I smiled squeezing his hand and he squeezed it back

"Thank you. I really mean it. I'd be at the bottom of the ocean if it wasn't for you" 

"It's no trouble really." I smiled getting up and fixing my dress 

"Y/n?"

"Yes Thomas?"

"... You uhh you second class?"

"Third actually. I should scamper I'll get a kick they find me in the first class area"

"Well. Would uhh would you mind walking me back? To my suite. I… I'm not sure I wanna be alone"

"I'd be happy to walk you back Thomas" I smiled "I haven't ever seen the first class suites"

"Their not that impressive" he chuckled