#I mean it was worth it but jesus fuck it was painful

[princessbrunette]

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

let’s go back to my roots. let’s talk about girly, prissy, spoiled bunny!reader with rafe.

you’re untouchable, kook royalty just for your attachment to the cameron’s but you don’t even care about all of that. all you care about, is rafes time money and attention.

he loves you a lot, but more so — he puts up with your shit. whilst you don’t have much of an attitude, soft in all corners of your life, you can still manage to be a nightmare. you clutter his sink with your makeup and skincare, decidedly a maximalist when it came to your self care and beautification rituals. he plucks a clump of mink eyelashes from the side of the sink, something he nearly mistook for a spider and sets it aside— only calling out a “jesus chr — bun, told you to clear out your shit. my bathroom looks like fuckin’ sephora. in here, now.” before he hears the soft padding of your feet come tottering along, happy to do as your told.

if that’s not making him huff and puff — it’ll surely be the outfits, moreso scraps of fabric you parade around in. expensive, according to his black card, for items of clothing that cover so little — and he can’t say you don’t get your moneys worth, toddling around in strappy powder pink dresses that leave nothing to the imagination or white mini skirts that cling to the fold of the bottom of your ass cheeks, giving not only the chumps at the country club a good look — but his closest friends too. his life had become a sequence of tugging down your hem, manhandling you to be decent. “you—y-you think i need my fuckin’ friends getting an eyeful of your pussy each time you move? are we gonna have to have another talk about what’s appropriate, bunny girl? huh? or maybe the belt will help you learn a valuable lesson. fuck.” he sulks, stomping around after his threat. you’re clung to his bicep with a dazed smile only five minutes later because his mean treatment usually flew through one bedazzled ear and came out the other. soft and dopey as ever.

back to him ‘putting up with you’, there’s a ton of reasons why that is. like aforementioned, he does love you a lot. you’re his little prized possession, his trophy. you were soft in all the ways that mattered and understanding, always listening when no one else would, even if he was admittedly in the wrong. that, and you really did fuck like a bunny rabbit.

you had a libido that was constantly set to high, all hours of the day. you were a chronic pillow humper when rafe wasn’t available to sate you, the man often times walking in to find you teary eyed with a white lacy thong binding your spread knees, pulled down just enough to grind your messy, glossy pussy against the fluffed white pillow from his side of the bed. because really, you were a chronic rafe humper— but you were well behaved enough to know that sometimes he had to handle business and didn’t have the time to feed your greedy cunt.

you’d grown accustom to taking him in any position too, whether it was in doggy style — waving your plush ass in the air, pointing that fluffy pink bunny-tail butt plug straight at him as you mewl into expensive pillows, or you’re crouched on his lap on the couch, feet planted either side of him, a high pitched whimper punched out of you each time you slam your hips back down on his cock, mushroom tip thumping your cervix. you said you liked the pain, liked when it bruised, liked when you could still feel him the next day when you missed him. reminded you of how grateful you are to have a boyfriend who dicks you good.

you had a little obsession that was serving as a problem though— having to give you plenty of ‘sit down talks’ when he talks to you real slow like you’re stupid because you keep begging him to breed you. it seemed no amount of “sweetheart, i’on know how many times i have to say this to get it through that head, but you are too young for a baby. i—i gotta get my shit together first, alright? promised you as many babies as you want after i secure tannyhill did i not? i…i really need your patience… okay?” would stop you from bouncing on his cock with a feverish and determined look in your eye, or locking your legs around his waist when he’s about to nut— babbling tearfully as you beg “please daddy, please gimme a baby. please want — want your babies!”

you’re lucky he was so much stronger than you, often wrestling you down to straddle your face and aim his cock at your mouth before he blew his load, gritting out a spiteful “well you’re gonna have to fuckin’ swallow them ‘til the time comes. fuck.” through gritted teeth as you mewl miserably (but lap it up nonetheless)

you gave him trouble, but nothing he couldn’t handle. he wouldn’t trade his spoiled bunny girl for the world.

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[wreckedandpolemic]

bad idea right? - matty healy

(mdni) in which calling matty up is a really, really bad idea. but that’s never stopped you before, and it’s not about to start. part of the regret me universe. 3895 words.

warnings: mean dom matty, degradation, oral (m receiving), mild praise, impact play (riding crop), slight overstimulation, toxic codependent losers who won’t admit their feelings

You and Matty haven’t spoken in nearly five months when you call. You’re never the one to break no-contact, so you can hear his concern when he picks up. “Hello?” he says, low and sleep-thick. “It’s the middle of the fuckin’ night. What’s wrong?”

“I need you,” you rush out, helpless. “Can’t stop thinking about you. S’been too long, Matty.”

Matty groans. “You think you can just fuckin’ call me up when you get needy, like you didn’t fuck my life on purpose and then ditch me? Think you can pretend you haven’t been fucking me about for six fucking years? D’you actually think I’m that fuckin’ pathetic?”

He’s angry, you realise with a jolt. The low, dangerous tone of his voice wraps around your brain, melting stickily between your thighs. “Not if you don’t wanna be,” you say, your teasing pout audible. “I need fucked, Matty. You’re the only one who can fuck me right, and we both know it,” you say, letting a soft moan slip past your lips as you circle your clit.

“Are you seriously getting off right now?” he laughs disbelievingly. “Jesus, y’so fuckin’ needy. Such a whore. You want my cock so bad, darling? Beg for it.”

Without missing a beat, your lust-sick brain spills dazed, filthy words from your lips. “C’mon, Matty, please. I need you. Need you to fuck me like you mean it, like you hate me. I don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done with me,” you moan, grinding the heel of your palm against your clit as you finger yourself, slick sounds echoing down the phone. “M’so fuckin’ wet, you could just stuff me full right now. Could just use me as your little cumdump, take what you need from me and leave. I’d even say thank you,” you add, and you can practically hear his control snap.

“I’ll be there in half an hour. You’re not gonna like what I do if you cum before I get there.”

You laugh, breaking into a moan as you curl your fingers perfectly. “You know I will.”

True to his word, Matty’s letting himself into your flat less than an hour later. By which time you’ve already cum once and are happily bringing yourself to a second. A sick relief floods your body the second your gaze lands on him, and you pull your fingers out of yourself to wave at him with a smirk. “I hope that was worth it, you little whore,” he snaps, shrugging out of his jacket. “Come here, on your knees, now. Don’t fuckin’ mess me about.”

His tone is heady and dark and dominant, dizzying as it slides over your body. “And what if I don’t?” you smirk. “Are you gonna turn around and leave? You already came all this way,” you tease. You’re only bratting for bratting’s sake, seeing how many of Matty’s buttons you can push before he explodes.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Matty scoffs. “If you don’t behave in the next five fucking seconds, I’m going to make the next three days hell for you.”

“Three days?”

Matty smirks. “You didn’t think I was just gonna fuck you and leave, did you? Nah. You wanted me here so badly, called me after months, dragged me out of bed at fuckin’ two AM ‘cause you need me?” He drags out the words in a mocking affect of your voice. “Well, you got your wish, darling. We need to make up for lost time, right? So, if you wanna even think about cumming on my cock, get on your fucking knees.”

This time, you obey, the hardwood of your floor digging into your knees, the pain somehow at once grounding and preternatural. You slide your palms up his thighs, gently mouthing at his cock through his jeans. Your mouth is practically watering as you reach for his belt buckle, choking on your whine of his name when he stills your hands. “You still have your cuffs?” Matty asks. You nod. “Good.” He retrieves them, fastening your hands behind your back and testing the fit. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah, feels good, Matty, c’mon,” you whine. “M’sorry, I wanna cum f’you, let me suck you off, please,” you whimper.

Matty laughs cruelly. “You think you deserve my cock? Gonna make you work for it, baby,” he warns, and you just moan, denim rough across your tongue as you lick obscenely at the seam of his jeans. “Needy girl, Christ. You want fucked? Kiss my boots and beg to suck my dick.”

You freeze, humiliation tingling deliciously between your thighs. “I—”

Blunt nails dig into your jaw as Matty forces your gaze to his. “You heard me. C’mon, darling, I know you can do it.” Slowly, like every movement is an agony, you bend until you’re practically prostrating yourself in front of Matty. “D’you remember these shoes, baby? Remember riding my boot ‘til you came all over it? How you were whinin’ and beggin’ like a fucking whore?”

Of course you fucking do. You’re violently flashed back to that night, to the grapple for control, before either of you knew what your relationship would spiral into. You lean in, hating yourself more and more every second even as wetness pools between your thighs, and press a kiss to the leather. You swear you can faintly taste your own arousal.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs as your lips rove over his boot, kissing along his ankle before you kneel up to gaze at him, head swimming with submission. He raises an eyebrow as if to say go on.

“God, Matty, I need you,” you moan. “Need to suck your cock, want you to fuck my face, please. Wanna feel you, wanna taste you, need you to cum in my mouth, baby. Need to be your cumdump. Just use me, please,” you whine, fumbling with the button of his jeans.

Matty laughs cruelly, freeing his cock and groaning softly as it thuds against his belly. “Open,” he says, soft and almost gentle, hooking a thumb into your mouth and prising it open. You wait, eager, eyes slipped shut and tongue lolling out of your mouth, wanton heat licking up your thighs. A harsh smack of skin on skin makes you gasp, and you open your eyes to realise your cheek is wet and sticky with precum and the sudden sting against your skin is from Matty slapping his cock against your fucking face.

Before you can sputter out a response, Matty’s sliding a hand into your hair and fucking your mouth hard. You moan around him, clinging to his hips as he pours dirty praise into the air above you. “That’s it, good girl. You feel so good, baby. Missed this filthy little mouth. So much sweeter when you’re gagging around me, huh?” You’re powerless, the weight of the cuffs around your wrists and Matty’s hand tight in your hair the only thing keeping you tethered to your body. Tears blur your vision, Matty’s moans loud and obscene above you as you swallow a gag.

You’re barely even giving a blowjob, just letting him fuck your face like a toy and grinding your hips down against nothing. Your cunt is pleading for attention, wrists straining against the cuffs as Matty laughs mockingly. “Needy girl. C’mon, darling, make me cum and you’ll get what you want, promise.” You redouble your efforts, leaning in until your nose is buried in the hair at his base and swallowing around him. You’re trying desperately not to inhale deeply, breathe in the smell of his sweat like you could trap him in your lungs. 

Matty’s fucking you brutally, angrily, and you know you’ll be hoarse for hours when he lets you go. His pace stutters, his breath quickening and you know he’s close. You slide your tongue against the vein on his underside, humming and whining around him. “Shit, m’right there, baby. Fuck, m’gonna cum, shit,” he whines, pulling almost all the way off you so his cum lands on your tongue. The salt of it overwhelms your senses, moaning low in your throat as his cock pulses against your tongue. “Open,” he orders again, and you obey thoughtlessly, letting strings of his cum drip against your chest. “Fuck, makin’ such a mess, darling,” Matty groans, bending low so he can look into your eyes. Before you can even process, a wad of spit lands on your tongue and he’s forcing your mouth closed.

You swallow, slow and deliberate, savouring the messy slide of spit and cum down your throat. “Thank you,” you breathe, voice scratchy.

Matty grins wickedly. “Good girl.” He nudges you to your feet and onto the bed, falling on top of you and kissing you greedily. Ever filthy, he licks into your mouth like he could catch the lingering taste of his cum on your tongue. “What do you need, darling?” 

Gasping for breath, you fight for the words. “You,” you groan. “Anything you want, I’ll take it. Just need you, Matty.” He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Matty says, shockingly tender. “Has it really been that long since you got fucked right?” You whine as his fingers find your swollen clit, a jolt of electricity shooting up your spine. You nod, swallowing hard as you meet his intense gaze. “How much work have I gotta do? How many pathetic fucks do I need to make you forget?”

“Too many,” you say, arching desperately up into his touch. “Haven’t cum with a guy in over a month. Had to get myself off after they left. Thought about you every— mmm— every fuckin’ time, how you’d be— fuck— be fucking me so much better, wishing I was goin’ dumb on your— shit, yes— on your cock.”

Matty grins wickedly, sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt. “Did you call my name?” He starts a slow, mean pace, your cunt clenching wantonly around him.

“You know I did. I can’t fuckin’ cum without thinking of you. You fuckin’ broke me. C’mon, harder!” Your back arches, chest heaving. Matty’s eyes fall to your tits, one hand coming up to tug harshly on your piercing. 

“You think you can give me orders right now? Be a good girl and shut up, yeah?” Your jaw snaps closed almost comically fast, teeth clacking together so hard the sound rattles through your brain. “You broke me too,” Matty says, so quietly that you don’t think he realises he’s spoken. He slides his fingers out of you, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to suppress a whine. He grins approvingly. “Here’s what’s going to happen, darling,” Matty says, pausing to suck his fingers into his mouth and clean your arousal off his skin. “You’re going to ride my cock until you cum like you’re fucking gagging for, and then you’re gonna let me do whatever I want, okay?”

Hopelessly turned on, you choke out an answer and let Matty flip you so you’re straddling him. Your eyes roll back into your head as you sink down on him, pure desire cascading down your spine. “Matty, I—”

“Didn’t say you could talk, did I?” Matty scoffs, digging his fingers into your hips to still you. “M’not gonna help you, either. Are you gonna be good, darling? Gonna fuck yourself on my cock like a slut?”

Nodding frantically, you grind your clit against his stomach and soaking up the pleasure that seeps from every point his body meets yours. You lift up onto your knees and slam back down, a whining scream tearing from your throat at the burn between your thighs. “Shit, y’feel so good, Matty. Missed this. Missed you,” you groan, digging your nails into his chest and rolling your hips desperately.

Matty grins lazily up at you, arms propped insouciantly behind his head. He looks so relaxed, it’s almost as if you aren’t there at all, except that he can’t hide the red flush creeping up his cheeks and down his chest. You must look even more wanton by comparison, hair plastered to your sweat-slick skin and soaked cunt dripping around him. “Keep going, baby. You can do it, c’mon.” The degradation slides sweetly around your brain, melting your thoughts until all you know is Matty.

You realise suddenly that your nails are scratching a pattern into Matty’s skin, the same shapes over and over again. Mine. Mine. Mine. Your knees are starting to ache, thighs burning as you ride him, but the idea of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. Liquid heat thrums in your veins, burning you up from the inside out. Whining his name helplessly, you clench around him, driving your hips down so you can feel every inch. You tip your head back, arching your chest towards Matty and watching his gaze fall to your tits. “You look so pretty up there, darling. You wanna tell me how you feel?”

“Feels s’fucking good, Matty. Been dreaming about your cock for months, baby. Nobody fuckin’ gets me off like you. Wish it could be like this all the time,” you add, barely processing the admission as it slips from your lips, pinching and toying with your piercing with your free hand. Your hips roll, waves of pleasure crashing over you, battering you viciously.

“So desperate, love. Such a slut,” Matty groans, digging his nails into your hips and fighting not to thrust up into you. “Getting close, aren’t you?” He laughs. “Yeah, I can feel you gettin’ all tight around me. You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna fuckin’ soak my cock like a good girl?” You give a strangled moan, your hand falling to rub frantic circles over your wet clit. Your vision goes blurry, your entire world a haze as Matty draws sharply into focus, his chest heaving and angry marks across his skin. 

Your orgasm slams into you breathlessly, crushing the air out of your lungs as you writhe on top of him. Arousal floods out of you, soaking the sheets under you. Your thighs burn, pleasure shooting up your spine and hammering in the base of your skull. Cunt pulsing, your body goes heavy, slumping as you climb off him. “Thank you,” you murmur, relaxing a little with your body splayed out beside him. “M’ready. M’yours. Whatever you want.”

Matty’s answering smirk is nothing short of cruel; darkly promising as you shiver happily. He climbs over you, straddles your waist, staring down at you with lust-dark eyes. He fists his cock, dripping precum and still wet with your arousal, and groans. “Missed having you like this, baby, all pathetic for me. Gonna look so pretty covered in my cum, God.”

Slick, wet sounds fill the room, your eyes glassy as you watch him. You stick your tongue out provocatively, sliding your hands up his thighs and digging your thumb into the divot in his hip. Matty’s thighs are trembling, lips wet as he breathes shakily over you. You lift your head a little to kitten-lick over his head, and it does him in. A groan of your name spills from his lips, ropes of cum splashing over your face and landing on your tongue. You swallow greedily, grinning blithely up at him as his chest heaves.

“Greedy girl,” he chastises, climbing off you. “Already had my dick in your mouth and your pussy like you begged for, and y’still wanted more, huh?” You nod, turning to hook a leg over Matty and gaze at his pretty, flushed face. “Did I say you could suck my dick?” He grabs your jaw punishingly, the pain spreading under your skin and falling straight to your swollen clit. “Words, baby.”

“N-no,” you stammer, choked through dizzying lust that clouds your brain.

Matty scoffs, shoving abruptly to his feet. “Little cumslut can’t behave herself. What d’you want, darling? Belt or paddle?” Your blood runs cold. That’s your trick; making him play an active role in his own destruction.

You squirm. “I, uh… Got something new. It’s in the, uh. The black box under my bed,” you murmur, flushing ruby-woo and hiding your face in your hands.

You know when Matty’s found it because he breathes sharply in, thwacks it against his palm to test it, scoffs disbelievingly. “S’this what you want, darling?” He traces the leather of the riding crop over your ass almost lovingly, anticipation humming so loud under your skin that it’s almost deafening.

“Yeah. Please.” You flush impossibly redder, squirming desperately.

“Filthy girl,” Matty coos, running his fingers over your ass and squeezing gently, like he’s soothing pain you haven’t felt yet. “You sure? It’s gonna hurt,” he warns.

“S’gonna hurt so good,” you groan, arching your back and pushing your ass up towards him. “Please, Matty. I don’t let anyone else have me like this, I couldn’t do this with anyone else. Wouldn’t trust them,” you confess, breathing laboured.

Matty leans down, brushes the hair off your neck, kisses the skin there. His lips are warm, the touch so tender you could almost believe it were loving. “God, you’re beautiful. Bein’ so good, baby, such a good girl for me.”

You whine. “Stop bein’ nice,” you snap. “If I wanted nice, I wouldn’t have called you. I know you hate me, so fuck me like it,” you say, gritting your teeth.

His answering laugh is low and cruel, sliding deliciously over your brain. “You want it mean, baby? Alright. You know what to say if you need me to stop, yeah?”

Dear fucking God. You’re this close to kicking your legs and pounding your fists. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, green for go, red for stop, I know how to fucking drive.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “Don’t be a bitch. On your knees, face down, ass up, and count,” he orders, and your cunt throbs in response.

“There he is,” you say smugly, moving deliberately slow just to frustrate him.

“Fucking move,” he snaps, gripping your hair and pressing your face into the mattress. “That’s better.” The sound of him shuffling around behind you feels impossibly loud, anticipation tingling in your cunt until— The pain of the leather meeting your ass is sharp, a stinging ache that bleeds into pleasure as it works under your skin.

“One,” you choke out. Matty delivers three more swift, brutal strikes, the pain shocking and new and fucking delicious. Obediently, you count along, sinking into subspace dazed and dizzy. Matty swats at your thighs, over the tattoo on your lower back, every inch of your ass until all you can feel is blinding, mind-wiping, divine pain. You keep counting until Matty hits your cunt, the bolt of sweet agony so instant that your legs give out, a noise of pure pleasure slipping from your lips.

Matty scoffs, grabbing your bruised flesh to shock you back into the present moment.  “Do you know how to fucking count?” he mocks, and you choke out something that sounds enough like the right number to satisfy him. “Still love getting hit there, huh? Slut,” he mutters, so bluntly callous that you wonder if he really means it.

“Love it,” you slur out, voice muffled against your sheets. “Love when you hurt me. Need it. Need you, all the fuckin’ time. Love—” You bite hard on your tongue to silence yourself. Blood pours into your mouth, a fitting punishment as it slides crimson down your throat.

“Yeah,” Matty says faintly. “Me too.” There’s a beat of silence, neither of you willing to acknowledge the words left unspoken, before Matty drags his fingers through your sore, aching cunt. “Look at the fucking state you’re in. Soaking fucking wet, I could just—” He leans down and spits on your cunt, smearing the mess across your swollen clit with his fingertips.

Your back arches involuntarily, pleasure-pain arcing viciously up your spine. Matty grips your hips harshly, digging five crescent moons of greedy desire into your skin, and slams into you hard. A choked whine of his name falls from your lips, one of his hands sliding up your body to grope your tit. You clench around him, vice-like, powerless under him.

“God, this pretty little pussy looks so pretty full of me, darling. All those other guys you fuck, and you always need me, huh? Always come crawling back. Such a fucking cockslut, baby.” You nod wildly, your brain melting into liquid that must be dripping from your ears and puddling on the mattress. “Shit, y’close already, huh? Go on, cum if you wanna, but I’m not gonna stop, okay?”

It’s like your body takes it as permission; your orgasm hits you like a freight train, crushing you under its weight. Your heart races, pure ecstasy crumpling your lungs and clenching in your chest. Your cunt throbs around Matty’s cock, still fucking you brutally deep.

Slick, obscene sounds fill the room, ringing impossibly loud off your walls, and you bury your face in the mattress to muffle your cries. “God, s’too much, Matty, I can’t take—”

“Are you safewording?” Matty interrupts, and you shake your head. “Then you can take it, darling, because I’m telling you to. Whatever I want, remember?” His hips slam against yours, heartbeat pulsing in your cunt with every deep, punishing thrust. “That’s it, baby, I know you can take it. God, you feel so fuckin’ good, m’so close, shit,” he hisses, pace stuttering as he moans your name, low and broken and almost pleading.

“C’mon, Matty, fuckin’ fill me up, make me yours, please,” you whine, arching your back and clenching around his cock until he’s spilling into you with a low groan. Matty fucks you through, cock pulsing and nails digging into your hips. When he finally pulls off you, he’s spent, hair plastered to his forehead and chest heaving with struggling breaths.

You flop down next to him, laughing deliriously and swiping two fingers through your sensitive cunt. The familiar taste hits your tongue, sweet as it slides down your throat, and you grin around your fingers. “See what happens when we don’t leave well enough alone? My ass feels like it’s on fire,” you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“S’not my fault you bought a fuckin’ riding crop,” Matty says, disbelieving. “D’you want me to run us a bath?”

“Mmm, in a minute,” you say, burying your face in his chest and curling close to him. Your heart is still speeding, exhilarated, and all you want is to cling to Matty like an anchor until you drown in him. After a little while, he coaxes you into the bath, holds you until the water goes lukewarm, his hands gentle and tender in a way entirely reserved for these moments.

It’s mostly silent, words gone unsaid hanging in the air between you. You’re right on the cusp of drifting to sleep when Matty speaks. “I don’t, by the way. Hate you.” He pauses, like the words are a struggle to get out, a weight sitting heavy on his chest. “I could never hate you. I hate that I can’t hate you.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “I hate that you can call me in the middle of the night after taking a sledgehammer to my life and I’ll come running. I hate that I need you so much. But I don’t hate you. Not even a little bit.”

You don’t answer.

[sugar-omi]

I THINK I FINALLY GOT IT TO WORK.... jfc anywayz this is nasty n i love it. so fellow monster freaks, this is for you my loves!!!! <333

DAY FOUR — MONSTER FUCKING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab reader, dub-con just bc y'all are so outta it, (mentioned/implied) dom/sub space, mermaid!cove x human!reader, soft to mean dom cove, biting, scratching, stomach bulging, knotting ment, ignore the kinda scary mer pregnancy bit okay

synopsis : cove finally lets you spend his heat with him, and your mermaid boyfriend is so much different than you had thought...

maybe you should have listened to cove when he said humans couldn't handle a mermaids heat. at least not without fighting for their life.

mermaids are naturally rough during their heats, biting and fighting for dominance over the other.. not to mention the sheer size of them.

cove is bigger than the average merman, "standing" at 12 feet tall.

which is something you should have factored in along with the sharp teeth and claws. because now, you're in a isolated underwater cove, with a horny, giant mermaid who is currently rearranging your guts.

"cove-!" you cry, pushing against his chest. it's fruitless, and you're just asking for more assertiveness, more pain

"stay still." cove growls, his sharp eyes striking through you, urging you to stay still and take it. you whine, your eyes rolling back. you know cove is trying to be gentle, but his mind is clouded.

"i-i can't take more!" you whimper. even though he's proportional for a merman of his size, it's too much for you. you couldn't possibly take all of his dick. "it won't fit-" you drawl, the words straining through gritted teeth.

cove kisses your cheek, licking your tears. "it's okay, it's okay..." he comforts, panting from the effort to control himself. "you can take it... i've prepared you for this.."

you whine when he moves again, the prominent ridges on the underside of his dick stretching you open.

he really did try to prepare you, gifting you a toy roughly the size of his dick and some smaller ones to work up to his size. cove even ate you out beforehand, his fingers slowly stretching you open and making sure you would come out as unscathed as possible.

cove kisses you, swallowing your whines and moans and trading it for his long tapered tongue.

you kiss back, letting cove consume your senses and take away all your burdens.

bitten, bruised, and sore, it's so worth it. to be connected with cove on this level.. it's maddening.

"are.. you okay?" cove pants into your ear, his fingers flexing around your waist as he tries to keep restraint.

you swallow, drool pooling in your mouth. "yes, yes, please move…"

cove fixes his grip on your body to move you the way he wants, his hands are so big they easily wrap around your waist and the heat coming from cove makes you feel like you're burning…

"ah-!" you drape yourself over cove. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. he's moving your body so easily..

you know you're much smaller than cove, so his strength shouldn't be a surprise. but the way he's moving your body up and down on his cock like you're his personal cock sleeve drives you crazy.

"covee~" you drawl, your eyes rolling back. fuck you're losing your mind.

every part of your body and mind is consumed with pleasure, any thoughts you have melt and reform to think about nothing but cove and his dick.

cove's nails dig into your skin, pearls of blood coming to the surface and washing away with the movements of your hips.

the scratches should hurt, cove's claws aren't for decoration afterall, but it seems that medicine cove gave you helps with the pain you are sure to endure during his heat.

cove groans, "fuck.. you're so tight…"

you pang, blinking away your fucked out haze. "you're… you're just too- ohh fuck- too big!"

cove's laugh is cut off by your twitching cunt tightening around him, "jesus christ, y/n… stop tightening up.." cove growls.

you whine, dragging your nails down cove's scaled shoulders. "i'm-i'm trying.." you whine, "it feels so good."

cove drags his teeth over the exposed column of your throat. his lips trail down to your shoulder, and with much care that most mermaids wouldn't afford, he bites down hard enough to leave evidence of his teeth, and he runs his tongue over it soothingly.

you huff, squirming in cove's hold. "please, please cove! faster!"

cove peeks at you, stopping his assault on your neck and collarbone. "...can you handle it?"

you huff irritably, rolling your eyes. "i'm taking your dick right now aren't i? i'm not going to break."

cove glares, "it took you a week to get up to the toy that was only 2nd to my true size, you shook and cried that you couldn't take it."

his voice is booming, and maybe it should scare you, but something about cove reminding you how you pathetically ran to him to help you with the toy… it turns you on.

"you've trained your pathetic human cunt to take my dick and you still cried that it wouldn't fit." cove stares down at you, his height and gaze making you still and a fire is burning in your stomach.

"if i give you more than you can take, you'll break. aren't you worried about me hurting you?" cove inquires and his gaze is a mix of intrigue and confusion at your eager negative shake of your head.

"as if, you can't hurt a fly." you're testing him, he's already holding back for you and yet you can't help but want to push him over the edge…

cove growls, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest and his gills flare.

he doesn't say anything else, you've said enough after all and if it's more you want, it's more you get.

cove hugs you, one arm around your back and the other under your butt, and uses the power of his lower body to thrust up into you.

you yell, your nails scratching down his scales and to his back, surely scratching off skin if cove's hiss is anything to go by.

with the change of pace, the last couple inches of cove's dick forces itself into you. you can't even catch your breath since with every rearing of his hips, the knot at the base of his dick pop in-and-out of you.

"cove!" you slap his shoulder, shaking at the stimulation.

cove nips at your shoulder and chest, leaving small marks where he pleases. "you wanted more. don't blame me if you end up becoming my pathetic cock sleeve."

you whine, drool slipping past the corner of your lips.

he's really fucking you dumb, leaving you no choice but to think about nothing but his dick.

his fat tip keeps bumping against your cervix, hitting that lovely spot between your womb and your gummy walls.

"ah! ohh fuck!" you cry, cove has taken your nipple in his mouth, swirling his long tongue around the bud and teasing it with his teeth, your other breast in his hands, rolling the bud between his fingers.

you whimper and moan, shaking your hips in return. the sensation is so good, especially since he's keeping you from running with his arm around your waist, forcing you to take the pleasure he's giving you.

as if you would want to run anyway. you've become way too addicted to this now.

sure you and cove have been intimate before, but this is the most you've ever taken of his ridiculously large mer dick and this is the roughest he's ever been with you.

usually he’s the one holding your hips to keep you from sinking any further on his length. but now he's fucking you with reckless abandon, giving into your pleas after all this time…

it doesn't take much to succumb to the pleasure that you've been craving this whole time.

“cove!” you cry, your legs shaking.”i’m gonna, i’m gonna make a mess!”

cove growls, picking up pace, purposefully angling his tip to slam against your g-spot.

a couple solid thrusts is all it takes to have you shaking, your legs wrapped around cove as you squirt.

you're seeing white, your legs shaking and toes curling. you can barely process the groan that comes deep from cove's throat because of your convulsing cunt, you're wrapped so tightly around him that his cock drags against your walls when he tries to pull back.

you whine and shake, feeling sensitive after such an intention orgasm.

"cove…" you weakly call, pulling yourself up by his shoulders to try and get off his dick, that spongy spot inside your walls too tender from the abuse.

"don't pull away from me.." cove grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter.

you pant, blinking and trying to keep consciousness.

you barely register that you're slipping into sub space, you've completely surrendered yourself to cove and obediently swallow the pearls he presses to your lips.

"mm, what.. what was that?" you ask, swallowing several times at the after taste. you know one of them was for breathing underwater, but you've never seen the other before..

"it's a contraceptive."

in this position you feel really small to cove, his body leaning over yours, completely trapping you between him and his nest.

combine that with his feral grin and sharp eyes… you're stuck and absolutely hypnotized.

"merfolk are very fertile, remember?" cove leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice deep and it penetrates your soul.

"we have a lot left to do before i impregnate you with my seed."

you shiver, looking at him with wide eyes. the thought doesn't terrify you, although maybe it should with what you know…

most humans don't survive it. and that's typically because they're not mated… something about DNA and special pheromones to relax and aid you in pregnancy and birth.

cove kisses your cheek, grinding his the tip of his dick near your womb. "don't worry… i know hoe to make it easier, don't be scared."

you nod mindlessly, trusting him.

"fuck!" you curse, the power of cove's thrust nearly burying you in his nest.

you cling onto his shoulders for dear life, your leg kicking out, allowing him to go even deeper.

"cove!"

"shhh, it's okay. just a bit more.." cove soothes, "i'm gonna cum soon…"

he groans, removing himself from your thoroughly marred neck to hold your legs and spreading them open, allowing him to piston into your weeping cunt.

you howl, throwing your head back and fisting the organized mess of blankets and materials of cove's nest, arching your back.

the movement just forces his dick deeper inside you, making you whine loudly.

you flip over, although not without much shaking, whimpering, and cove's nails digging into your skin.

although now that you've made it onto your stomach, weakly trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure, cove tugs your hips back and easily manhandled you.

he presses you against his chest with his hand, the other on your stomach, which he brings something interesting to your attention…

"fuck.. you see that?"

it takes you a minute to respond, too long because cove grabs you by your chin and tilts your head down, and shows you your stomach.

you moan lowly at the sight.

with every deep thrust you can see cove's dick protrude from your stomach, popping up right below your belly button.

cove lifts your head back up, his hand under your jaw, and he can't help but laugh at the tears running down your face.

"look at you, you've become a brainless slut."

you moan at cove's degrading comment. fuck you didn't think he had it in you but he does and you are losing it.

"maybe i'll keep you to myself forever. merfolk already have a bad reputation because of sirens.." cove growls in your ear, "wanna be my cute lil' cock sleeve, y/n?"

all you can do is beg and squirm for more.

"please.." you whimper, feeling cove's knot catching on your entrance. you want to be filled, you need him to cum inside..

cove laughs at your plea and kisses your lips, grinning a sharp toothed, wolfish smirk. "good girl, i'll take care of you…"

[estrellami-1]

That’s a Wrap

I’m not crazy in love with the title so if yall have any ideas I’d love to hear them! Posting will be irregular until I can actually get more of this AU written. If you want to be added to the fic Taglist, just let me know! ❤️

Part 1

Steve groans as he begins to wake. He brings a hand to his head, stiffening when Dustin whispers.

“He’s awake!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Eddie whispers back, smiling when Steve’s eyes land on him. “Hey, man. How’re you feeling?”

“What happened?” He mutters, wincing and pressing a hand to his eye.

“Pain meds,” Eddie nudges Dustin. “Two of ‘em.”

Dustin nods and runs off as Eddie answers. “We don’t know,” he says. “There was a loud pop all of a sudden, and you just… collapsed.”

Dustin comes back and all but shoves the pills into Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mutters, then frowns at Eddie. “Why’re you using your Eddie voice?”

Eddie frowns back. “Eddie voice?” He parrots. “What do you mean? What other voice would I use?”

“To be fair, you do use a lot of voices,” Dustin says.

“Not helping,” Eddie mutters at him.

“Your normal voice? Joe, man, what’re you doing?”

Eddie takes a breath. “This is going to sound like a crazy question, but bear with me,” he says seriously. “What’s your name?”

Steve frowns at him. “Joe,” he says. “Joe Keery.” He brings a hand to his head again. “Jesus. Cameras still rolling or what? ‘Cause I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I need to be on stage right now.”

“He’s lost it,” Dustin stage-whispers to Eddie.

Eddie privately agrees, but takes a breath. “Your name is Steve,” he says. “Steve Harrington. Do-” he swallows. “Do you know who we are?”

Steve glances at them. “Joe and Gaten. Seriously, are there funny cameras going? ‘Cause I must’a hit my head or some shit, man, but I’m not concussed. At least not enough to forget your names. Or mine, for that matter.” He shakes his head, then regrets it. “Okay, fuck, ow. Just… help me up, c’mon, no prank can be worth me whacking my head again. Get me off set.”

“Um,” Eddie says, not sure what Steve’s saying but knowing he should probably be going to a hospital. “Okay, yeah, we can… go downstairs, I guess?” He exchanges a look with Dustin, then carefully helps Steve, who freezes as he walks out of his room.

“No,” Steve whispers, before practically throwing himself downstairs and out the front door. He stops again in the doorway, hands in his hair. “Shit,” he mutters.

Eddie carefully approaches him. “Steve?”

Steve turns, face unreadable. “Eddie.” It sounds like a question, so Eddie nods. Steve turns to Dustin. “And… and Dustin.”

“Huh,” Dustin says, “maybe you aren’t concussed. Not any more than normal, at least.”

“Okay.” Steve looks around, staggers over to the couch before collapsing and blowing out a breath. “This is going to sound insane,” he says, looking first at Dustin, then Eddie. “But I think I’m in the wrong universe.”

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[oceansarepink]

Tw - upsetting Blitzø dissociation animatic on Twitter

If you encounter it do not angrily contact or harass the creator or I hate you and will take their side.

Saw this sad animatic of blitzø dissociating because of what stolas did in apology tour, and Loona finding him like that. He starts dissociating: talking about the party, stolas calling him a motherfucker and kissing another guy. Then because the animator ships it, he says ‘maybe I should let stolas go’ which causes the most panic?

Then Loona starts saying Blitzø shouldn’t let stolas go cause he’s like her, he has walls, don’t give up. I didn’t watch the rest but it’s full of Loona inexplicably wanting him to hook up with stolas no matter what.

Jesus. This fandom. No. No. Stolas could put Blitzø in an early grave and they’d still say the ship is not worth giving up on.

If someone makes you dissociate from the pain of the things they do to you, fucking hell, don’t try to win them back to your favour. It’s not “walls” it’s abuse. Run. Anyone who tells you to keep trying with them is so wrong.

Edit: watched it.

It ends with:

“I don’t want to let him go Loonie”

“Then don’t, dad”

After his cruel hateful actions caused Blitzø to dissociate for hours???? She wants him to get back with him?! Christ.

They also recycled Loonas “everyones got issues doesn’t mean they don’t care” line. That damn scene.

[austinsastrology8991]

> Saturn ASPECTS < and why you ain't getting the respect you deserve Saturn puts you in shitty cycles/ patterns to make you; by breaking you > and when you inevitably return to these struggles, you'll realise you've mastered his circuits

yes i had break, im back now. so get over it.

Saturn aspecting Sun - loosen up. but everytime you do, something else fucks up. so now your the most rigid person. its hard to have a good time with yall, because you take things so seriously, but damn do you exceed when shit needs to be taken seriously - because your so careful in your movements 🚶‍♂️. they tend to have a habit of stating the obvious then smirking about it, which is so confusing because like we all knew that, but why you acting like you did something? this type of shit is why people struggle to chill around you, but ill ask for your advice about real shit because your obsessed with being an authority and like thats the only way to approach you guys without getting iced by you Saturn aspecting Moon - Stop crying. oh wait i meant to say; start crying. jesus you got some fucked up villainous back story but your stone walling everyone because it hurts too much to even open up to anyone. because i mean whats the point? if everyone is just going to tell you "its going to be okay" when you never feel okay. feels bad man, and you know better than most how bad feels.. man.. so i guess saturn wants you to accept how cruel the world is, and how that affects everyone, so you are more prepared for bad circumstances then most. hardly a positive spin, ik.. but its to prepare you for your future. and you have no idea why you must go through so much pain - but there is a reason, and it will become clear later, so better utilize that energy to your benefit; because its just another one of saturns bitch cycles

Saturn aspecting Mercury - when you speak, people try there best to one up you, but your a master at it by now > passive aggressive, or authoritative - who gives a fuck if you belittle the other person, because i mean if your right, then you right. so better off writing it into reality, rather than watch everyone clown around with the wrong answers. but speaking ths way to others, really does make it hard to talk to you, even if you right, your just a fkn asshole. so honestyl. stop trying to figure out the right answer, and think about whats the right thing to say. stop pretending to be an authoritative speaker if no one even wanna listen to you, and start owning what you say more. Saturn aspecting Venus - joecly flores on repeat. okay i get it. you dont believe in love, because you see it how it is. well. its not actually how it is. youve ruined all your chances of anyone ever gonna love you because you think being all cold and mysterious is attractive (and it can be) but i mean who tf wanna love someone like that. its like riding a bike uphill. i mean i dont wanna do that. like these people are always attractive, but their attitude is so hard to ignore, its like trynna make a spider smile. thats why people reject you more than anythng else. and Ik that your just trying to find the real ones, but guess what, everyone that ever talked to you/ flirted with you, liked you.... oh thats too shallow or optimistic? my bad Saturn aspecting Mars - I never do anythng right ;(((((( well you actually do a lot right, but your always doing too much. your so obssessed with perfection and being a high achever that you've forgotten everything you've achieved becayse your so focused on the next one. if you just reflected on how much you work; in comparison to most, youd realize you are big achiever, and you dont understand reality as well as you think. well okay you do undersatnd reality extremely well (because you try so damn hard lol) but you've lost your sense of self because you still dont think your worth it till you achieve the next thing- hence the cycle of working yo ass off - but hey you'll achieve a lot, you just need to perfect your perfectionistic tendencies -then youll finally be perfect! (get it) Saturn aspecting Jupiter - i think this aspect is one of the coldest. because these people try so hard, but get no where for the majority of their life. till they change perspectives and realize if they try harded else where, they'd get launched into success. i mean the amount of people who are successful - and i mean hugely successful > have this aspect - and everytime it was due to massive luck. however only they could grasp the 'lucky' opportunity, and that initself makes their achievements so much cooler than others. remember its jupiter, so all your 'hardships' inevitably become your greatest 'luck'. the white guy from 'sean of the dead' has this, and look at how much he impacted movies in general... jus saying mad props to that guy and to yall

Saturn aspecting Uranus - okay these guys are outcasted from society hard, due to some bullshit, but when they get recasted back into civilization they become someone who can change society at large- but its gonna take so much work... their perspective has been molded differently to most because they've been alone for so long. they have strange ideas that somehow work into tangible assets. perfect example : eminem - i mean hes basically best case scenario with this aspect, but hey why not try for best case scenario? but then again he made that hamster song... so i mean not always best case scenario... THats the price of neglect you could say lmao. Saturn aspecting Neptune - your imagination is your greatest challenge but also the key to your ultimate glory. like Michael Jordan had this aspect and well he was hella delusional. until he wasnt.... but its hard to say how much this benefited him... because both stages of his life - pre glory - and; glory - he was heavily isolated from everyone, and (likely) suffered in seclusion, by placing so much importance on his dreams. saturn wants you to master the 'spiritual world' i.e. imagination and dreams, and this causes anxiety that their dreams will just be dreams. which is what makes them put so much effort into it becoming real... then they realize the price of it all when its too late. so just make sure your aware of what your manifesting because if anyone can make it, its you. (achieving ur dreams) Saturn aspecting Pluto - how powerless do you feel. you do realize people can see how thirsty you are for respect/power, because they can sense your insecurity from past exepriences, and thats why your easy to play with. but do not worry. you will attain true power with enough effort. not just a bullshit image of power. because you've been pushed into the most vile trials to have ever have existed, and its only so that when you become someone powerful, you utilize your power properly, and do not step on others, because you know damn well how much it hurts to be stepped on. so your power is > saturn. your trials are so intense, and you're basically broken, but things that are broken know how to cut others (like broken glass). and well saturn wants you to master this > pluto > the darkness. and it makes reaching the top so much more palpable, because you'd feel like you earnt it. but you can make others insecure about what youve overcame so you better be humble, or saturn will fuck you. no honour among thieves, and we know you experienced that, but the kings play different, and you gotta adapt or saturn will flatten you.

[gemstone-roses]

I'll help you forget

David 'deacon' Kay x reader

Summary: reader has had a bad day, all reader wants is deacon.

Alright I'm sorry its a little sad at the beginning but it's worth it I promise.

@castle-of-ruin

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, minors be fucking gone from this place! Smut, teasing, praise kink, comfort sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it ffs)

IF YOU SAW ME POST THIS BY ACCIDENT BEFORE IT WAS DONE NO YOU DIDNT

"hondo told me you had a rough shift". Deacon shuts his locker gently, walking over to you, he places his arm around your waist, a friendly gesture he's done many times before.

You flinch slightly, you've had such a terrible, awful day even being touched in a comforting way fills you with rage.

"Yeah, um, I'll see you at home deac" you send him a pathetic attempt at a smile that does not reach your eyes, before shifting out of his embrace.

You shared a house with Luca, and since deacon got divorced, him too.

Having him around was like an extra boost of happiness, he was so kind, and also happened to be extremely pleasing to look at.

Deacon frowned slightly, he'd never seen you be affected by a shift this bad before, all he wanted to do was take away your sad, take away whatever pain you were in.

Getting back home, you decide to get straight in the shower, as soon as the water hits your aching muscles, you let the tears you've been holding back flow.

You don't hear the front door shut due to the noise of the shower.

Thinking no ones home yet, you exit the shower in a shirt you pinched from luca one day.

"You've been crying" a deep voice says

"Jesus deac!" He startled you, and your nerves are already frayed.

Deacon walks over to where you stood, concern etched in his features.

"I didn't mean to startle you" he says softly, reaching out to touch your elbow.

"It's alright" you whisper

"You gonna tell me what's wrong honey?" He brings his hand up to your shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

"M fine" you sigh, closing your eyes and turning your face away from him, you cannot do this right now!

"look at me sweetheart" he grasps your chin so gently, wrapping his other arm around your waist,he doesn't let go as he stares into you, you can see how much he cares for you.

The sadness in your eyes staring back at him breaks his heart a little.

A tear runs down your face, you tried to hold it back but the way he's holding you right now pushes you over the edge.

He swipes it away with his thumb, he pulls you in closer to him.

"Deac" its barely audible, but he hears it, the crack in your voice.

Deacon leans into you, catching your lips in the softest kiss.

He pulls away far too early, his brows furrow as he studies your face, a silent question, checking your okay with this.

You respond by initiating this kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him into you, deacon presses his lips harder into yours, causing you to let out a moan. You feel deacon smirk as he's kissing you. He runs his hand down your spine slowly, the action sends heat straight to your core.

Deacon breaks the kiss again, leaning his forehead on yours

"I have wanted to do that for a very long time" he breathes, keeping his hands on your hips.

"I have wanted you to do that for a very long time" you smile back at him.

"You still feeling sad honey?" His deep voice comforts you, as well as making your pussy throb.

He takes your silence as a yes.

You worry your lip with your teeth

"Hey, it's okay" he assures you.

"Maybe if you kiss me again I'll feel better" you mumble.

"You want me to make you feel better sweetheart?" He's slightly breathless, eyes slightly hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Yeah" you whine.

Deacon takes your hand as he leads you to his room.

Pulling you into his room and over to the bed, he kisses you once more before pushing slightly for you to lie down. He places his hands on your thighs as you hit the mattress, meaning your legs dangle over the side of the bed.

Deacon positions himself in between your legs, moving his hands to slowly rub the inside of your thighs, he sees your breath hitch.

"Relax honey" he says before inching his hands closer to your core.

He swipes his thumb across your clothed core, making you whimper.

"Your soaking" he moans before crouching down and placing a feather light kiss to your pussy.

He hooks his fingers in the band of your underwear, and stops.

"Deac please" you cry.

"I need you to say it honey, c'mon, use your words"

You huff.

"I want you"

"Good girl" he praises as he finally removes your panties.

"Fuck" you moan at his words, your positively dripping now, and he hasn't even touched you.

Deacon places an open mouthed kiss to the top of your pussy, pushing a finger into you at the same time. You clench around his finger and deacon let's out a small groan.

He pumps his finger in and out of you while his tongue circles your clit slowly.

"Fuck deac" you whisper, he speeds up slightly at your words, adding another finger he archs them, reaching that spot inside you.

"Mm deac I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me honey" he says, mouth still on your clit, he feels your walls clench around his fingers, your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you.

He continues to pump his fingers in and out while you come down from your high.

"That was incredible" he breathes, removing his fingers from your dripping hole and bringing them up to lazily circle your clit.

"I-

"What is it sweetheart?"

"Fuck me, david" you say, sitting up to look him in the eye.

Deacons eyes darken slightly, he reaches for his belt, keeping his eyes on you as he strips.

"Lie back honey, head on the pillow" he says, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

You scramble up the bed, waiting for him.

Deacon pumps his cock a few times before climbing on the bed to sit in between your legs.

"This is in my way" he says, gripping your shirt.

"Don't rip it! It's lucas!" You say

"He won't mind" deacon smirks, before ripping it off and throwing it to the side.

"You, are stunning" he whispers, placing a kiss to your lips before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You turn your head, shy, at his compliments.

"Don't hide from me honey" he grips your chin and turns your face back to look at him.

He pushes into you slowly, moaning as your pussy grips his cock.

"Jesus you feel so good" he whines as he bottoms out.

You whimper at the feeling of him inside you.

"You okay sweetheart?" He asks

"Yeah" you assure him.

"Take a deep breath honey"

He doesent move until you do.

"That's it, good" he says before thrusting into you slowly.

"I got you" deacon whispers. He keeps the place slow.

"You feel so good deac" you moan.

You clench around his cock as he thrusts into you.

Deacon whimpers as your walls flutter around him.

"Deac I'm gonna cum" you whine, closing your eyes.

"No, look at me, that's it, look at me when you cum honey" he thrusts into you hard.

" cum around my cock" he moans as his own orgasm approaches, his words making you release around him.

You feel his cock tighten inside you as his orgasm takes him.

He pulls out to lie next to you, one hand draped over your stomach.

"Feel better?" He asks

"Oh yes" you smile.

[dykelips]

steddie — friends with benefits to lovers drabble

“friends don't do what we do.”

rating — teen & up. | tags — fwb to lovers, roommates au, everybody lives/nobody dies, gay steve, gay eddie, mutual pining, friends to lovers, love confessions, angst and hurt/comfort, friends with benefits.

steve's never really had self control. he's never had any when it came to several instances—calling jonathan byers a queer, kissing tommy on a drunken night when he was 15, going straight into an alternate dimension, facing billy hargrove and getting his ass beat, or even telling robin he has feelings for her, soon to find out she's a lesbian, and that he himself is a gay man.

steve's self control surely didn't exist the day steve proposed an... idea to eddie—a no attachment, friends with benefits who bang and get it out of their system type of deal. they're already best friends, deeply bonded from the whole vecna ordeal, so what harm could this do to them?

and now that steve thinks about it, it didn't do a small amount of harm, it practically ruined steve. he fell for eddie, and he's not sure eddie feels the same way.

steve broke his own rule. he found himself attached to eddie, thinking about eddie, talking only about eddie, being in love with eddie.

after steve comes home to their apartment and sees eddie making out with someone on their couch, he starts an argument. he doesn't own eddie, they aren't dating, and eddie's a grown man who can do whatever he wants, but seeing someone else other than himself lay their lips onto eddie's and kiss him, that really starts something inside of steve.

he can practically feel all of the months worth of collected feelings and thoughts bubbling up inside of him and almost spilling out over the sides the second eddie says what he says.

"we're just friends. we're friends, steve. you're you, and i'm me, and that's it," eddie says, arms crossed over his chest, hiding himself away and trying to tuck himself together.

"friends!? fucking—fucking friends, eddie? that's what we are? friends don't do the things we do."

steve scoffs and looks directly at eddie, face going red with anger and a mix of pain inside of him.

eddie looks down, lips pulled into a thin line, eyes downturned and hair hanging down around him, shielding him like a cave hidden behind a waterfall.

"yes, harrington. friends," eddie breathes out, head snapping up. "you act like you want me to say that we're more than that, but you're not into me. you just want to fuck me and act like nothing happened. i can't deal with that. i need someone who loves me, who tells me they need me and will take care of me and isn't disgusted or annoyed by me. that's what i need, not a fuck-buddy."

steve sputters and reaches his hands out, mentally saying fuck it and telling eddie how he really feels.

"eddie, jesus christ! i'm in love with you! i've been in love with you since you woke up from that goddamn coma last year."

eddie's eyes go wide, comically large and round, looking like bambi. he really fucking loves him.

"stop messing around, man."

steve shakes his head, not letting eddie dismiss him and believe it's just some sick joke that he's playing on him.

"why would i lie about loving you, eddie? everything i've done, it's all because of you. do you really think i would tell you this and compromise our friendship if i didn't feel just like i'm telling you now?"

eddie's mouth opens and closes like a dead fish, and he finally shuts it fully. "i, i don't—"

"if you don't love me back, that's okay. i just had to tell you, eds. you don't understand how much you mean to me," steve confesses, lips pulled into an apologetic smile. he goes and turns to walk out the door of their apartment,

eddie shoots out his arm, hand grabbing onto steve's forearm, squeezing, trying to stop him from leaving. "steve! fuck, i love you, too! i do, i really, really do. and, look, i didn't know how to tell you, because you're always being so frustratingly you, clearly not understanding all the hints i've dropped, trying to signal that i've been in love with you for months, too."

eddie licks his lips and his eyes seem to plead.

"really?" steve asks, hope bubbling up inside of him.

he nods, hair shaking around. "yeah, stevie. cross my heart and hope to die. i mean it. swear on it, even."

steve smiles at that.

"swear on what, exactly?" he knows the line he's crossing, and if eddie says what steve thinks he'll say, then steve knows it's true.

"on my guitar. my sweetheart. you know the one. i swear on her," eddie tells him, eyes flipping down to steve's lips and back up to meet his eyes.

"that's a big swear, munson. might need you to kiss me to prove it," steve teases, stepping in closer to eddie's bubble, noses almost touching.

eddie grins, wider that steve has seen for as long as he can remember. "i can do that."

he certainly swears on his guitar if the kiss that they shared proves anything.

whoops i suck at endings and writing in general, but this has been stuck in my head and i felt like trying to write. here it is. love you xx

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: mentions of blood, mdni

Chapter Three

"We gotta to take her to the hospital."

"You know we can't do that."

"We can because she's fuckin' dying!"

My body felt like it was floating before my focus settled on a steady throb of pain in my lower stomach.

"Butcher, she's not dying. Her pulse is strong, and since I stitched her up, she hasn't bled whatsoever."

"Then, why the hell ain't she wakin' up?"

"Because she's exhausted. She lost a great amount of blood and wore herself out trying to fucking wrestle you in the van."

Blood.

That word caught my attention. I remembered blood and lots of it as it painted Butcher's knuckles a deep red.

"If she's not up in thirty minutes, I'm takin' her to the emergency room, end of story."

"Butcher, you, and I, and fucking Jesus Christ himself, know that if we step one foot into any medical facility, we will be taken into custody. It's not worth the risk."

"She is. She's worth the risk.

It was quiet for either a few minutes or a few hours. Both timeframes felt the same in my hazy state.

A long sigh broke the spell, followed by more dialogue. "Jo is ok, I promise you. Now, I need to grab the bag of fluids that I left in my room. While I'm gone, don't you dare think about running off with her. I am the only medical professional she needs right now."

Footsteps trailed off as my eyes slowly blinked open to take in my surroundings. I was in the basement of the pawn shop, on the couch that I was still convinced had bed bugs.

"Mornin', sunshine."

The Cockney accent drew my attention, and I looked up at Butcher's tired face. His hazel eyes bored into mine, and memories from earlier flooded my brain.

"Here ya' go," Butcher said, offering me a glass of water.

Upon attempting to sit up and accept the drink, I gasped as my abdomen screamed in pain.

"Woah, there. It's a little soon for you to be up and at 'em, doll. Here, lemme help ya'," Butcher said gently as he laid me back down on the couch and eased a hand under my head, propping it up so I could drink.

Grateful, I eagerly gulped the water, finishing the whole glass in mere seconds and earning a chuckle from Butcher.

"There, ya' go. Down the hatch."

He slowly lowered my head back on my pillow and placed the empty glass on the coffee table behind him before turning back to face me, studying my face in great detail.

"You gave us a right scare there, love."

"At least I know you guys care," I shrugged. "Now, when I do actually drop dead, I'll be expecting a funeral with the works—fireworks, I mean. See if you can get Celine Dion, too. I heard she's available."

I expected another laugh from Billy, but instead, he looked more solemn than ever. His eyes trailed down to where my shirt, a clean one without blood, rode up on my stomach, showing the gauze that MM had wrapped me in.

"I thought I had lost ya'," He mumbled.

It was quiet between us due to the fact that I didn't know how to react to Butcher's surprising words.

"I guess I can relate to the feeling," I finally said as my face hardened. "Since you left me for three months with no goodbye. I thought you were dead."

Butcher bowed his head, "Jo, you have no idea how much I fuckin' regret leaving ya'. But I had no other choice."

"You always have a choice, Butcher." My voice grew louder as my emotions rose in powerful waves. "And you didn't leave me. You fucking abandoned me!"

He cupped my face, but I turned my head, rejecting the physical affection. "Don't," I whispered. "It's too late. You can't just walk back in here and act like nothing happened. Like you didn't fuck me, and then throw me away like garbage the next day."

Butcher's nostrils flared as he rose to his impressive height, towering over me. "Now, listen here-"

"Ok, I'm breaking this up," MM called, reentering the room. "Jo is very weak right now, and I cannot allow her to undergo any extra stress."

"I'm not weak," I quipped back, whipping my head to gaze at MM as he leaned over the back of the couch.

Unconvinced, he asked, "Really? Let me see you try and stand up then."

When I didn't move to rise from the sofa, MM shook his head. "You need fluids and rest. Luckily, neither is hard to obtain." He held up a bag of fluids before hanging it on an IV stand next to him.

"Now," he continued, doling out commands. "Close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll check your stitches in a couple of hours."

"But I'm not tired," I argued.

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise."

"Well, this couch is uncomfortable," I grumbled. "It hurts my back."

"Alright, we'll get you to your room then," MM sighed.

Before I could stop him, Butcher scooped me up into his arms, and I protested loudly. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oi, shut your pie hole," he whispered harshly, fanning the side of my face with his breath that stank of whiskey and dominance. "I'm takin' care of you whether ya' like it or not."

I fought an internal battle before closing my lips and fixing my eyes into narrow slits.

"Good girl."

Air was quickly expelled from my lungs as I exhaled, willing myself not to rub my legs together as an ache settled between them.

But it was no use. Butcher knew the effect he had on me, and from the corner of my eye, I could see a smirk plastered on his face as he carried me to my room, full of arrogance after winning our little quarrel.

"Dontcha worry, darlin'. When you're on your feet again, you can beat me up for being the bad man that I am."

I didn't respond because I refused to be baited into another argument with Butcher. Instead, I kept a pout in place and stared straight ahead, thinking of all the ways that I could cause him physical harm. After all, he had just given me permission to, and it was proving to be quite invigorating.

"And maybe when you're all done, you'll fancy bending over and lettin' me enjoy a meal or two. Because if my memory serves me, you seemed to enjoy it last time."

"Well, the last time was the only time," I curtly informed him as Butcher gently dropped me down on my bed. I inwardly chastised myself for falling for his trap when he flashed his crazy eyes above me.

"Mhm, that's what they all say."

"Well, I mean it," I snapped, pulling my blanket up to my chin as if it would shield me from Butcher's snarky words.

"Sure ya' do," Butcher said condescendingly as he patted me on the head before leaving the room.

I was relieved to be out of his company and was disappointed when he returned, the IV stand with the bag of fluids still hanging from it in tow and other needed supplies grasped in his hand. I watched as he prepared the IV tubing before he sat down on the edge of my bed and huffed, "Give me your arm."

"Why can't MM do it?" I sulked.

"Because I'm doin' it," he replied in a matter-of-fact manner.

I grumbled under my breath, clearly displeased. As I reluctantly drew my arm from under the blanket's coverage, Butcher looked at me with a bushy brow raised. "What? You don't think I'm a suitable nurse?"

"Well, your bedside manners leave much to be desired."

"That's funny. All my other patients think I'm perfectly charmin', especially the older ladies. I didn't know I appealed to nans so much," he snickered, running a calloused finger over my arm, searching for an appropriate vein.

"I'm surprised you appeal to anyone."

"I guess ya' should be questionin' your own taste then, eh?"

"Believe me, I am."

Butcher didn't reply as he wrapped a small piece of fabric around my bicep, creating a makeshift tourniquet.

"Don't look, ok, doll?" he instructed, swiping a cotton ball covered in rubbing alcohol over my arm. My nose wrinkled at the strong smell, and I coughed.

"I don't need an IV," I said, trying to negotiate at the last minute. "I'll drink lots of water. Even that gross electrolyte shit MM buys."

"I don't think that's gonna to cut it, sweetheart," he stated, sliding the needle inside of the small catheter.

I bit my lip, trying to resign myself to my fate but failing miserably.

"M'not gonna hurt ya', ok? Just look at the ceilin' so you don't maul me to death."

"It's not like you wouldn't deserve it."

Butcher closed his eyes as I began to tread on his nerves. "Princess, you outta think before you speak that way to someone who's holdin' a very sharp object inches from you, yeah?"

"But you won't hurt me. You just said so yourself."

"Doesn't mean I'm not tempted."

I rolled my eyes and held my breath as I followed Butcher's wishes and looked at the ceiling. I winced slightly when I felt the needle initially enter my arm, but Butcher gently ran his free hand over my shoulder, distracting me.

"Atta girl," he breathed. "You're doin' so good."

My body trembled as I floated down from my last orgasm. I was vaguely aware of Butcher as he pulled me to lay on his chest, both of us panting.

"Y'alright, sweetheart?"

I could barely reply as my eyelids fluttered open and closed. My mind was full of various thoughts, but none of them made sense as my head floated somewhere above the rest of my body.

"Look at me, doll," Butcher said, running a hand through my hair. "Lemme see them pretty eyes."

I mustered all of my strength to peel my eyes open as I looked up at Billy with a lazy smile on my face.

"There she is. Atta girl," Butcher whispered. "You did so good for me."

Even in my delirious state, I keened under his praise, and Butcher chuckled at my reaction.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured as I nuzzled into his neck, nodding off in the arms of someone I loved.

Yes, I loved Billy Butcher.

He just didn't know it yet.

I held my breath as I forced myself to count the questionable yellow spots on the ceiling and not get lost in yet another memory of Butcher pretending to cherish me. I had just reached the twelfth discolored splotch when Butcher sat back and said, "All done, love."

I looked down at my arm and furrowed my brows in confusion when I saw the catheter fully inserted with some tape to keep it in place. Aside from the initial insertion, I hadn't felt the rest of the procedure.

"Told ya' it wouldn't hurt," Butcher said proudly, crossing his arms over his broad chest, reading my thoughts, which were clearly displayed on my face.

"I guess you're not the worst nurse in the world," I relented.

Butcher's mouth curled up at the side, and I knew my meager compliment had inflated his already oversized ego.

"Well, ain't that sweet of you to say. But don't tell MM, alright? He prides himself on his medical skills."

Butcher delicately adjusted my blanket, pulling it tighter and tucking me in for the night. "Now you have a little lie-down, love. And dontcha let those manky bedbugs bite."

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story while you're at it?" I inquired.

"The only stories I like to tell aren't appropriate for bedtime," Butcher whispered, winking at me.

He headed for the open doorway before turning around at the last second. "Oh, and if ya' need help countin' sheep, just give me a shout. I'll be on the other side of the wall."

I nodded before curling up on my side, trying not to tug too hard on my IV as the door creaked shut, signaling that I was alone. The light from the living room drifted under the doorway, providing a makeshift nightlight and illuminating the small, dingy room.

Sleep came surprisingly soon, and I drifted off, dreaming of Billy's heartbeat under my ear as he held me in his arms.

༺༻

It felt like only minutes later when I woke up due to the sensation of someone's hands on my stomach, and I flinched as my eyes flew open.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," MM apologized. "I was just checking your stitches," he explained as he pulled the bandage back over my abdomen and quickly did the same with my shirt and blanket.

"How does it look?" I asked hesitantly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"So far, it's holding. But it wasn't my best work with Frenchie going ninety miles an hour and you...evading my help," he sighed.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled sheepishly.

"Hey, don't worry about it, kid. We all have something we're scared of. If I were being held down against my will while someone coughed in my face, I'd have done everything I could to knock their fucking teeth out."

My smile was small as I nodded in gratitude. "What time is it?" I inquired, wondering what day it was as well.

"Noon."

"Noon?" My eyes grew wide as I ran a hand through my matted hair. "Fuck, I must've slept for almost nine hours." Which was rare. These days, I was lucky if I slept for two hours consecutively with the anxiety that ran through my veins and the threats that loomed over our heads.

"Ten, actually. I told you your body needed rest."

I was preparing a comeback when my stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting the conversation.

MM rose to his feet. "By the sound of it, it seems you might want some breakfast. Frenchie made you a get-well gift in the form of French toast. Are you interested?" he asked, and my ears perked up at the offer.

"Sounds really good, actually."

He nodded, patting my shoulder. "Ok. Butcher will be in to help you up."

I groaned loudly, and MM couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, kid, but Butcher made us all swear not to touch you. I was only granted special permission on the basis that it was purely medical so I could check your stitches."

"He's being ridiculous," I scowled.

MM regarded me knowingly. "I think I'd probably call it something else."

I rolled my eyes, and MM laughed again as he exited my room, leaving the door open.

I barely had time to prepare myself for Butcher's imposing presence when he glided through the uninhibited doorway with a cheery greeting on his tongue.

"Rise and shine, my love. How are we feelin' this mornin?" His accent was especially thick as he wasted no time in raking my blanket back.

I yanked the fuzzy material back over myself, glaring up at the Brit, but he just retaliated by gripping the blanket in one of his paw-like hands and tossing it across the small room.

I eyed the pile of fabric I was unable to retrieve due to my current injury and whined, "Don't leave it on the floor. I just washed it." But I was soon distracted by the chair that sat in the corner facing my bed. I didn't remember seeing that yesterday.

"Who's chair is that?" I asked, pivoting the conversation.

"Mine," Butcher replied as he carefully pulled my IV out and wheeled the IV stand out of the way. "You'll have to forgive me for bringin' my chair in, but I haven't figured out how to sleep standin' up yet."

"You slept in here last night?"

"Well, I don't have bloody x-ray vision, so how else was I s'pposed to keep an eye on you, eh?"

"Did it ever occur to you that not checking on me at all was a viable option?"

"Not in my book," he responded sharply before changing the subject. "Now, let's getcha up. According to MM, you're fancyin' some of Frenchie's cookin'."

Butcher slid an arm under my lower back and slowly pulled me into a sitting position.

"Easy does it, love," he said as I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed through the discomfort. "You got it."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed so my feet rested on the floor, and I braced my palms on my thighs, trying to steady myself.

"Take your time, ok? I don't need ya' rippin' your stitches under my watch," he advised as he laced our hands together and pulled until I was standing on my own two feet. My vision blacked out for a second as the blood rushed from my head down to the rest of my body, and I teetered forward, falling into Butcher's muscular chest.

"I've got ya' sweetheart," he assured me as he held my unstable frame against him.

I pulled back when my vision returned, and I looked up into Butcher's attentive face. "I'm dizzy," I mumbled.

"S'ok. MM said that's normal," he assured me softly, tucking my tangled hair behind my ear.

I wanted to chastise myself for enjoying Butcher's tenderness, but I simply didn't have the energy as I nodded, trying to turn toward the door.

"Do ya' think you can walk?" he asked, resting a protective hand on my back. I'm more than happy to carry you."

"I don't need a chauffeur. I'm perfectly capable of walking," I said, stumbling forward a few steps. I was determined to do something on my own after being coddled for the past twenty-four hours.

Butcher didn't reply, but he didn't remove his hand either in the event that I should fall again. That only increased the pressure I felt to walk faster and show him I was strong enough to move about without any help.

I finally made it out into the open area of the basement and was greeted by everyone. Hughie, Kimiko, and MM wore encouraging smiles as Frenchie placed a tall plate of French toast topped with whipped cream on the coffee table.

"Pour toi, Mademoiselles," Frenchie announced, and I thanked him profusely.

Under Butcher's watchful eye, I eased myself down on the couch, and he quickly followed suit. He placed a supportive arm around my shoulders, and I would've made a snarky comment about him being clingy, but his arm was the only thing keeping me upright at the moment, so I kept my mouth shut.  

Butcher placed my breakfast in my lap and whispered in my ear, "Do ya' need me to cut it for you, princess?"

I used all my energy to elbow him in his side, and he breathed out a laugh before addressing the room. "Alright you twats. Let's have a little chin wag about tonight."

My head shot up in confusion as I chewed the first bite of my French toast. The wonderful medley of sugar and cinnamon coated my tongue. However, I couldn't focus on Frenchie's superb culinary skills when the group began discussing a mission to which I was not privy.

"Ok, so after a little bit of trouble due to a very annoying firewall, I was able to hack their systems, and I found a blueprint of the building, so we'll be able to locate her office quicker than just going in blindly," Hughie said, squatting next to the coffee table and spreading out the blueprint that he had just spoken of.

"Who's office?" I interrupted.

Hughie looked confusedly at Butcher, who had remained silent beside me. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I asked skeptically, turning my head to look at Butcher, and he sighed.

"We're breakin' into Raynor's office to have a look around before the CIA cleans it out. Word on the street is that they're doin' it tomorrow, so we've gotta go tonight."

"And you decided this without me?" I asked incredulously.

"You were knocked out, love. Was I s'pposed to wake ya' up in the middle of the night? You're always moaning about how ya' need your beauty sleep."

"Well, that wouldn't have been difficult considering you were two feet away watching me like a fucking peeping tom," I snapped before glaring at the rest of the room. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Butcher said sternly. "You aren't goin' anywhere."

"Yes, I am," I pressed.

I felt Butcher's fingers tighten around my shoulder. "Let's talk about this later, yeah?" he suggested.

"Talk about what later? The mission that I was unaware of or the fact that you won't fucking leave me alone?"

I should've seen it coming, but I was still thrown off when Butcher suddenly stood from the sofa, leaving me to crumple against it without his support. He then stomped to the other side of the basement, only stopping when he reached the corner and sneered at me. "Is this better?"

"Expanetuily," I bit back, clutching my abdomen as it tensed up under the new strain as I stood as well, not finished with what I had to say on the matter. I thought I was holding up well until MM swore, rushing to my side and forcing me to sit back down.

Bemewsed by his behavior, I tried to question him, but when he pulled up my shirt, I saw blood seeping through the gauze, and my heart plummeted.

I had ripped my stitches.

"Hughie, go into my room. On my desk, you will find some supplies. Bring them to me," MM instructed as he made quick work of pulling back the now-damp gauze.

"Fuck, it's worse than what I thought," he sighed. "Nice going, Butcher," he said, throwing a dirty look over his shoulder at his boss, who had remained standing in the corner.

The dig forced Butcher into action as he footed it over to us. "Fuck you. Clearly, I didn't do it on bloody purpose."

"Just get out," MM barked as he accepted the supplies from Hughie.

"No, I'm stayin'," Butcher argued obstinantely.

MM pinched the bridge of his nose. "Butcher, Jo is clearly upset by you being here. So stop being a stubborn motherfucker and get the fuck out."

Butcher's gaze fell on me as lines formed between his thick brows in concern. I knew he was waiting for me to beg him to stay, but I wouldn't do it. His comfort was something I craved like a drug, and it was about time I got clean. Plus, I couldn't deny the sick urge I had to hurt him, to push him away like he did to me when he left for three months.

"Fine," Butcher uttered slowly when I remained silent, "I'll let you other cunts dry this one's tears when she's fuckin' beside herself over a goddamn needle and a little bit of blood."

He pivoted around and swept up the stairs. Seconds later, the old building shook as Butcher forcefully slammed the door.

It was quiet after Butcher's dramatic exit, and MM shook his head, running a needle through a lighter. The deja vu I felt was painfully prominent.

"You ready to try this again, kid?"

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

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[hellofanidea]

45. leather belt with a silver buckle for babelieb

NSFW below the cut because I did in fact think about my rarepair fucking on the floor for too long

---

The first time they screw, more than just hurried hands and mouths, is in a motel just outside of Philadelphia. They don't plan it, both exhausted from the last three days - from driving and not sleeping and the fight Babe had with his folks and his sisters and Bill as he bundled his shit into Joe's car.

They've gotten a twin room, ostensibly to save money but mostly to stay in each other's sight at all times, and lingering touches turn to kisses, turn to Joe pushing Babe against a wall and grinding a thigh between his legs as he sucks hickeys into his collarbone.

"Jesus, Joe, Jesus Christ," is all Babe can say, his hands refusing to cooperate as he grabs at him. Joe's still dressed where Babe is just in his shorts, fresh from the shower and ready to sleep, and his fingertips keep sliding off the fabric of Joe's shirt. "Joe, fuck-"

"Thought you missed me?" Joe pants slyly. Babe makes a particularly inarticulate noise and gropes down Joe's front to get at his slacks, at the belt keeping them up around his bony hips. The buckle is almost bitingly cold, but he persists, grabs at Joe's erection below it as he slides the leather free. "Fu-uck, Babe-"

They don't move apart more than a handful of inches as they strip Joe of his layers and rid Babe of his boxers. They barely make it to one of the beds.

"So pretty," Joe mumbles, between smearing kisses anywhere he can reach and fumbling with the lube he's magicked up from a pocket or bag or could have summoned out of thin air for all that Babe cares. "My pretty baby..."

He's being so much sweeter than the normal filth he would pour into Babe's ear in haylofts and foxholes, and it does something funny to his insides, makes him writhe all the more desperately against him.

The people next door can probably hear them, know exactly what they're doing, but fuck them, Babe thinks viciously, fuck them, he's owed this, they're both owed this. Let them know, let them see them emerge tomorrow and think whatever they want, because they aren't worth the energy it would take for Babe to drag himself away from Joe again.

Restraint is for other people. It's for people who haven't jumped out of planes and fired machine guns and seen their friends bleed in the snow like animals. It's for people who know how to move on without feeling like they've left most of themselves behind.

And then Joe is pushing his fingers in, one at a time. There's more pain than pleasure at first, but Babe just breathes through it, hooking one leg up and over Joe's back. He bites more than kisses at Joe's mouth until the intrusion hits just right and he's keening, scratching down his shoulders, rocking into the sensation.

It makes Joe groan like he's the one being fucked open. He's smearing precum onto Babe's hip, and Babe twists his body to give him some friction.

"If I go off now," warns Joe. "It's gonna take a minute for me to get in you."

That makes Babe laugh, and he cants his hips again so he can watch Joe grunt and curse. In revenge, Joe crooks his fingers hard and mean in a way that sends pleasure shooting through Babe so violently he shudders, spine arching off of the mattress in a curve he didn't know he could make. Joe laughs, then, and licks into Babe's gasping mouth.

"Think I could get you off like this, huh, sweetheart?" And there's the sharper teasing Babe remembers. "Just like this, then screw you when you're all fucked-out and easy for me?"

"Jesus, Joe, don't," Babe whines, even though the thought has his dick twitching eagerly.

"Yeah, okay, maybe next time," Joe acquiesces.

Next time. Babe arches again, squeezing his eyes shut at the wave of something that travels through him at the thought. They had never had a guaranteed next time before. Not even after V-J Day. Next time, and the time after, and the time after-

He shoots off before he can even warn Joe, his whole body locking up tight and then completely unraveling. There's a shout ringing in his ears that he thinks is Joe's name bouncing off of the walls of the motel room.

"Fuck, there you go, that's it, show me how you like it-"

The fingers in him curl into that perfect spot again and again until Babe's leg is twitching with the aftershocks. His tongue feels too heavy to form words, but the pitch of his noises must turn sour, because Joe pulls out gently, keeps his legs spread around him but bending over Babe to press soft, open mouthed, kisses to his neck and shoulders.

He's still talking, too quietly for Babe to make out the words, but the vibrations against his skin are nice, soothing, help his mind refocus from how hard his orgasm crashed into him. With the tips of his fingers still tingling with static, Babe moves clumsy hands from where they'd fallen against the mattress to Joe's back, petting at him weakly, feeling the jut of his vertebrae and the thin sheen of sweat building on his skin.

"Alright, Babe, I gotcha, I gotcha, that's it, honey," Joe is cooing, the words once again making sense to Babe's ears. He laughs, a blissed out, disbelieving noise, and Joe lifts his head to give him a wicked grin. "Okay, so maybe we don't leave it to next time, huh?"

[aihoshiino]

chapter 146 thoughts

This chapter (and thus this chapter review) contains discussion of abuse, suicidal ideation and CSA, so if you're not in the headspace for that, skip this one and I'll see you next time.

we are so oshi no back

After last chapter left me fighting for my life to come up with literally anything to say about it, this was one of those chapters where I ended up having more and more to say about it the more I turned it over in my head. It still feels a bit disjointed and has that same issue of ripping through the events of the movie way too fucking fast that the arc as a whole has been having lately but this chapter was such a breath of fresh air I can't bring myself to care.

The chapter itself is more or less split in two, with one half dedicated to 15 Year Lie's in-universe events and the other focusing a bit on Aqua and Kana for, tbh, the first time in way too long. Admittedly, my enthusiasm for 15YL has waned given the reveal of just how much of it is completely made up but like. I'm still gonna over analyze this stuff. Sunk cost fallacy, don't fail me now!!!!

I joke, but the 15YL section of this chapter was legitimately bone chilling. That barrage of cuts following Uehara's attack on Airi…. fuuuuuuuck, man.

Airi herself is pure fucking poison this chapter too and I mean it in the best way. I continue to be incredibly impressed with how OnK understands the motivations of a person like Airi what her abuse of Hikaru is really about. When discussing this in 141, Miyako points out just how often victims of abuse can themselves go on to perpetuate their own pain out of a need to try and regain their dignity, but I think what Airi seeks in her abuse of Hikaru is control. We see how often she wields her power over him while pretending that he has as much agency as she does in their """relationship""" and it's repeated here, too; she throws the results of her own sexual abuse of him in his face as a way of permanently chaining the two of them together, all while tearing down his worth as a person as if to 'prove' he deserves to be trapped in her grasp. I've said before that Akasaka is unsettlingly good at writing toxic mothers but I think Airi has made it pretty clear that Akasaka understands and is thus excellent at writing abuse and abusers in general, and for someone like me who counts that as one of their favourite Themes (tm) in fiction, I feel quite well fed.

The abuse Airi hurls at him is also interesting from a perspective of paralleling Hikaru even further with Ai. We saw snippets of this in 140, of Hikaru characterizing himself as someone desperately trying to construct a version of himself that can be loved by others the same way Ai creates 'Ai of B-Komachi', a version of herself who can give and receive love in the way she thinks her authentic self is unable to. Airi puts this into more explicit words; Hikaru must construct this fake version of himself because there is no 'real' him and thus, he is inherently unlovable. Jesus Christ.

Knowing those words were swimming around in his head, it makes the HKAI scene that follows even more of a gutpunch than it already is. It's the most wonderful kind of miscommunication tragedy - with their respective traumas, there is basically no other way a talk like that could have gone and yet it's agonizing to see it play out. Ai's innocent cruelty in the face of Hikaru's pain and her suffocating smile… the worst part is, while I completely understand why this was so shattering for Hikaru, it's impossible to miss that this was, in a way, an expression of love from Ai; it was honesty, an admission of vulnerability. She herself even says she doesn't want to lie to him. But to Hikaru, what else could that have sounded like but a confirmation of his most godawful fear?

that said. the timeline here is very confusing. this seems to imply hkai were still dating all the way up to the murder-suicide, which seemed to be just before the dome concert but did the breakup really seem that recent during their phone call?? this whole timeline is penised beyond repair.

The art in this chapter in general is incredibly good but something in particular I want to highlight is how much and how often Aqua-as-Hikaru looks like Ai in these panels. I can't put my finger on what it is, but that similarity always makes me feel so warm and sad whenever I see it. For as much as he struggles with his relationship to her, Aqua really is his mother's son through and through.

and. man. what even is there to say about that scene in the rain and everything that follows. I was't sure if the murder/suicide was going to be featured in the movie but even the brief snippet of it that we got and that barrage of scene titles and Kamiki's silent scream… whoof. shit like this makes me really hope we get to see mengo illustrate a horror manga someday because i think she would absolutely kill it.

We cut back to reality to see Aqua reading the script and in perhaps the most interesting swerve in this chapter, we see that he has once again reverted to his double black hoshigans. And uh, am I going to sound like a terrible person if I say I'm really glad for this? LOL.

Obviously I would rather Aqua not be experiencing Suicidal Ideation (Bass Boosted) 24/7, but it's kind of a relief to see that one single conversation wasn't enough to totally shake Aqua out of that headspace. I've talked a lot about how frustrating I find it that 'Ruby finds out Aqua is Gorou' is treated as the finale to her black hoshigan arc and every ongoing thread, internal and external, attached to it was dropped like a rock with no further interrogation. It robbed Ruby of the opportunity for some really important growth and, imo, was just shitty for Kana and Memcho who were treated extremely poorly by her and got no apology for it. I was really worried this would be the case for Aqua as well and that his own dip into that rancid headspace would end on a wet fart which would really sting given just how little insight we've gotten into him this arc. But this chapter makes it clear that while some cracks have started to form in his armor, he's not in the clear just yet.

i mean, even if he was permanently back to one white star, aqua is such a little freak regardless………………………….

What this means in the long term is a little hard to pin down, both because we've had so little insight into Aqua's headspace this arc and because the exact nature of black hoshigan as a symbol has always been a little Calvinballed, but in this context and for Aqua specifically, I think we can read this as his conviction in the messy endgame of his revenge play being shaken up. I, personally, have been reading the black hoshigan as of late as an expression of the sort of futureless despair that can become suicidal ideation, at least for Aqua; since immediately after Ai's death, we have gotten incredibly strong hints that Aqua is suicidal, his guilt-fueled desire to die and his desperate want to experience a happy future at war within him. He more or less explicitly says as such in 106, expressing that this break in their relationship is necessary for Ruby to be able to live on 'after he's gone' - which strongly implies that Aqua's revenge play is intended to end with his death.

Knowing that Ruby is Sarina wasn't quite enough to shake his conviction, but their talk in 143 was. I do think Ruby just giving him some straightforward affirmation was a good starting point but I also can't help but wonder, with the context that his white stars were not indicative of a permanent change, if hearing just how deeply Ruby still relies on 'Gorou's' presence in her life struck a nerve for him. Paraphrasing her from 143, she straight up says Gorou is the one who gives her life meaning. And if that's how it is, what exactly will happen if he's gone again..?

Obviously this is all still speculation because even when I am begging on hand and knee Akasaka is refusing to give us Aqua introspection but at this point I have to make a guess at SOMETHING if i am going to say anything remotely coherent about aqua in this arc, so

ANYWAY!! AQUA AND KANA HAVING A NORMAL ASS CONVERSATION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!!! Ngl, it did give me a bit of a chuckle to see Kana voice the question of whether Aqua was getting too immersed in his role, given that people were accusing her of that back during the first round of the RBKN conflict.

I was also really surprised to see Aqua just outright say that yeah, he is at least flirting with suicidal ideation. Like - that's the first time he's said that out loud, to anybody??? In 143 he voices the less damning but still not great sentiment that he feels guilty for being alive but this is to my knowledge the first time Aqua has expressed his suicidal ideation out loud, let alone to anyone else. And… fuck, man! That's an absolutely terrifying thing to hear a friend say. No wonder Kana reacts like she does.

Because of my powers of Claire-voyance (read: basic pattern recognition and being in fandoms for 15+ years), I'm pretty sure people are going to be Very Mean to Kana about the way she chooses to respond to Aqua here but honestly? Not only did this tough love response feel very IC for her, but the clumsiness of it felt very honest to me. I think a lot of people in fandom lately just want characters to talk like fucking therapists all the time and have the Correct And Unproblematic Response to… well, situations like this. But Kana is an 18 year old girl who has her own share of issues and her friend she knows is dealing with his own huge amount of baggage just casually dropped an "i wanna kms" on her. All things considered, I think she handles it surprisingly well.

Because like… look at what Kana really says to Aqua here. She gives him some of their usual banter to diffuse the tension but then makes herself very clear: she does not want Aqua to hurt himself and makes him promise that he won't. It's clumsy and rough in the way Kana often is, but I think the important part - her sincere care for Aqua as her friend - really does shine through.

also cute that other people caught: Kana squishing Aqua's face seems to be an intentional callback to one of their on-stage interactions in Tokyo Blade, right down to Aqua making a identical scrunchyface to Kana. Extremely cute. I love it when Aqua is cute <3

Kana also being a person able to shake Aqua out of his black hoshigans also leans into something I've been hoping is going to pay off for a while now; the idea that Aqua's salvation is not going to come from any one, singular character but from the many different people who Aqua has built relationships with coming together when he needs them to support him. One of the things OnK has continually highlighted is the way isolation and lacking support systems warp and damage people's mental health and I think it would play excellently into that theme to have Aqua's support net, so to speak, to be wide enough to catch him no matter where he falls.

the product placement was very stupid but i did laugh pretty hard at it and then immediately go buy myself some potato chips so i guess it worked. genius mangaka aka akasaka.

All jokes aside, the note their talk ended off on was so lovely too. Aqua being honest enough to admit that being with Kana is fun and Kana getting all dokidoki and then quietly admitting she feels the same when she's alone… cute! But more than that, it highlights something about the AQKN dynamic I think is really important, regardless of whether their relationship is romantic, platonic, in laws, mlm/wlw hostility or whatever else; Kana is his friend and he can just be a normal boy and have normal fun with her without any ulterior motives. It's something Aqua doesn't really have in any of his other relationships so getting a reminder of that and what it means to Aqua was really good.

honestly i think i am just so starved of nice things happening to my son that seeing him opening up to one of his friends and admitting he has fun (HIS LAUGH!!!!!!) was like a shot of heavenly ambrosia for me. please can hoshino aqua have just one nice day.

OR UH… BASED ON THAT LAST PAGE…. PROBABLY NOT ANYTIME SOON….!!!

this is what i mean about this chapter giving me 5000000 things to talk about. kamiki is TALKING TO RUBY IN THE FLESH FOR THE FIRST TIME and i almost completely forgor.

why is he dressed like a dad about to take her out on a fishing trip, though

Ruby looks unusually solemn while she's praying, which is interesting. She's been pretty bright and high energy since 141ish so I'm curious what has her looking so comparatively dour. She's praying at a shrine, too, which means there's probably something on her mind. Nik (@akane-kurokawa) theorized that she's anxious about the upcoming scenes in the movie (LIKE, YOU KNOW, HER MOM'S DEATH) and until we get further insight on that, that's what I'm gonna assume too.

putting aside how Shrimptresting it is that Kamiki turned up out of nowhere like that, I can't help but note a certain horrible parallel between Uehara meeting young Hikaru in the rain with a black umbrella and Kamiki doing the same for his daughter…

cannot wait for that entire talk to get offscreened. lol.

break next week……………………………

[jenna-ortega]

Whiskey Burn

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mean Joel, P in V, fingering, dubcon?(not rlly), angst, joels a real dickhead

Word Count: 1.8K

Dark brown eyes getting darker with every lie dripping from his tongue.

Lying about where he’s been, where he’s going, who he’s been with. He keeps you close enough to pleasure, but never close enough to please.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your feelings changed, when his feelings changed. Had you been the fool all along? Had you been the prey begging, hoping, praying to change the predator who was hopeless to begin with?

Loving Joel came natural to you. Sucking in air and feeling your stomach drop with every glance he gave you, knowing you were coming into this Jackson bar looking for him...you wouldn’t admit it though. Walking over to the bar top, settling down across the bar, making sure Joel could see you in the outfit you knew he’d kill you for wearing.

“Any whiskey ya got, on the rocks...please” you ordered your drink, dragging your eyes up at Joel as he scoffed at your order. You don’t even like whiskey, but the pain of that burn was better than the pain Joel had been causing you.

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m asking because you can’t keep fucking with my head, Joel.” you pleaded to the somber man in front of you.

“Jesus Christ, girl. Startin’ with me when you know it ain’t never got you anywhere.” his words echoed. The shake of his head as he walked past you could cut a thousand wounds into you.

He stood at the edge of his bedroom door, turning only to throw your shirt into your chest.

“Get dressed, y/n. I don’t got time for your tantrums today.” turning on his heel out the bedroom door, your voice calls him back...

“So that’s it, huh? Fuck me for months, practically force me to move in, and never open up to me?” screaming loud enough for all of Jackson to hear, you’d had enough. This was your breaking point.

The look in his eyes as he takes menacing steps towards you had you cowering, the confidence you once thought you had slipped away as Joel’s tall figure looks down at you, bumping your chest until you were slammed up against the wall. The air being rushed out of your lungs as both his arms caged you in beside your head.

His right hand snakes down underneath your chin to force your eyes up at his blown out brown ones,

“Darlin...” the country twang in his voice drowning out any other noise threatening to break through his four walls.

“Darlin...funny how you never seem to complain when you’re havin’ at it on my cock.”

Fuck. The foulness of his truth had tears threatening to fall from your eyes. He knows you’d have nothing to say to that. Knows how much you enjoy yourself with him.

“And for as you put it...forcin’ you to move in with me, why don’t ya take your shit nd’ bring your attitude back to your own place, sweetheart.” Joel backed away from you, his boots shaking the floor as he practically ran out of his room.

“I’ve got other business to attend to, and it don’t include a crybaby ruinin’ my day.”

              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s where you’d left off with Joel the day before. Crying as you gathered all you could and brought it to the place you were originally staying in Jackson. It felt desolate, a place you didn’t recognize.

That same night, sleeping without Joel felt better than you expected. Fuck that guy. You were worth more than some middle aged man using you as a his own personal masturbation toy. Even though you’d gotten closer to Ellie while you were sharing his space, leaving was the right thing to do. She’d understand. She was the one begging you to try and pry emotions out of Joel.

“y/n, I know he really cares about you. You should ask him if he’s ready to finally let the town know you guys are together!”

Memories of her words flicker back into your head. Please...like that’d ever happen. Joel made sure to never show any PDA while out with you, and always avoided questions about you, even when asked by family.

Patrolling with Joel and his brother one day proved that to be true...

“Glad to see someone’s keeping my brother young” Tommy joked as you walked beside Joel, feeling him distance himself from you,

“Let’s focus on clearing this building huh Tommy” he didn’t look at you. Kept walking ahead, leaving Tommy behind him to match your path as you walked. Tommy looked at you with a kind smile, a sort of apology for bringing it up. He could see how much Joel’s nonchalant, cold attitude towards you in that moment knocked you on your feet emotionally.

But he’d made up for it that night by fucking you stupid against his flimsy mattress. And you secretly hoped that’s what this encounter would turn into. His eyes bore into you from across the bar as you laughed and flirted with the bartender. Liam. How would it make him feel to see someone else scoop up the woman he’s been too much of a bitch to claim.

“Liam...gosh you are just sooooo strong!” you reached for his left forearm, squeezing and giggling as he blushed. He poured you another glass, sliding it towards you,

“This ones on the house, gorgeous” he winked at you, and you couldn’t help but feel those same butterflies in your stomach you felt just a few months ago. Except this guy is definitely your age, and definitely your type.

Your mind clouded as you took the first sip of your new drink, not aware of the angry grey haired man that made it his mission to make sure you had no happiness if you were in his proximity.

The drink spilled from your lips and down your dress as big warm hands grabbed at your elbow, dragging you up and out of your seat, throwing you against the bar. Your eyes wide and weary, staring at the 5′11 man who’s nostrils were flaring in front of you.

His heavy breathing was heard first, then the gruff tone of his voice

“What the hell do you think you’re doing y/n?”

Joel’s brown eyes throwing daggers at you. The pressure of which he’s holding your elbow has you wincing and trying squirm out of his grip, but to no avail.

“I’m enjoying a nice cocktail...i should say was enjoying now that you’ve gone and spilled it all over me you fucking prick.” your voice growling on the tail end of your sentence.

Joel’s eyes watch the bartender scurry to the opposite end of the bar, knowing to keep his distance from the one and only Joel Miller.

His eyes darting back down to you as he lets go of arm to sneak his hand around the base of your neck, grabbing and pushing you in front of him.

“Well then darlin’, how ‘bout I help you clean your act up. Lookin’ like the town slut here in my bar.” his lips get close to your ear as he speaks, still pushing you by your skull closer to the bathroom.

You fight him gently as he manhandles you into the bathroom, throwing you in and locking the door behind him.

“Wow, Miller...didn’t expect such a public display of emotion for me” you tease, smiling at the man in front of you who’s about ready to rip your clothes off your body and maim you for the world to see.

As those words leave your mouth, you see the corner of his lip twist up, eyes lightening as he lets out an amused laugh. “Oh. You are treading on some mighty thin ice” he threatens. He continues, not letting you get a word in after,

“That’s what this is? you think you can teach old Joel a lesson or somethin’?” he moves closer to you, gripping your sides as he walks you as far back as the porcelain sink that is now digging into your back. A painful gasp leaves your lips...

“Listen here, girl.” his hands dig harder into your hips, lips trailing down till you feel his breath against your ear,

“You don’t get to control me.” his grip on your hips loosens just to spin you around so you’re now staring at yourself and him up against you in the bathroom mirror, porcelain still causing pain, now to your stomach.

He leans you over, your face colliding with the mirror. One of his hands held in your hair and the other scratching at your thigh to lift your dress to your hips, bundling the fabric up till your black thong is the only thing he sees.

“I’m gonna enjoy putting you back in your place, baby girl.”

You want to say you expected this level of anger from Joel, but as you felt him rip your thong to the side and shove 2 digits inside of you without warning, you knew you fucked up. 

A light moan left your lips as he pumped his index and middle finger inside of you, using his thumb to lightly rub circles against your clit.

“Joel, fuck...please” you begged, but for what you didn’t know.

He let go of your face, opting to place that hand in your hair instead, pulling you slightly up to face yourself in the mirror. Forcing you to watch yourself come undone on his fingers...

“Aww” his eyes met yours in the mirror, smiling as you dripped onto his fingers, pushing yourself back to take as much of him as you could.

“A shame you’re only sweet when I’m fuckin’ the attitude out of ya’“ you whine as he removes his fingers from you, also letting go of your hair.

You hold onto the sink bent over, turning back to see him unbuckling his belt. Your eyes find the spot he’s trapped in, going wide as you watch him begin to stroke himself out of his jeans,

“Joel, I’m sorry, please, please fuc-”

You were cut off by a hard slap to your ass, the sound echoing off the walls...that’s going to leave a mark

“Fucking you was gon’ happen with or without the pleading, darlin’”

Your stomach dropped as your felt him grab your hips, lining himself up with you before ruthlessly pushing inside of you without warning,

“Got’damn” he moaned behind you as he set a harsh snapping pace, grabbing your hips back as leverage,

You felt him everywhere, the bruises forming on your skin were him, the smell of whiskey filled your senses, fuck you’d have to wash this dress now.

Sounds of Joel grunting behind you made you smile, the feeling of being stretched by him over and over and over had your head swirling, barely being able to breathe through the moans Joel was pulling from you.

His pace begins to quiver, brutally snapping into you chasing his own high as you feel your legs become mush, only being help up by the force of his grip. His thrusts becoming sharp as he pulls completely out of you to force himself back into you, growling lowly from above you

“Don’t hear..” snap...”you complainin’...” snap...”from up here now”..snap

You practically scream as his thrusts push you against the mirror yet again, feeling the harsh glass on your forehead as Joel doesn’t let you move.

“Please...please i’m gonna cum, Joel”

He’s holding you up as your legs give, moaning and blabbering as you feel yourself begin to let go, closing your eyes tight and then....

You feel empty, Joel pulling out of you and letting go of your hips. Watching you fall to the ground, jello legs not stable enough to keep you up.

You look up at the brown eyed man, stroking himself as you’re still trying to process what’s happening.

You reach for him, hoping to feel his touch, feel any type of warmth from him, but he just steps back, rushing to the porcelain sink which you’d grown all too familiar with in these past few minutes,

“Joel?” you question, watching as he paints the sink with his release, moaning as he’s holding onto the side, biting his bottom lip as his head falls back and his eyes close. “Fuck”

You watched as he came back down, frown permanently plastered to on face.

He finally turned to you as he pushed himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt securely,

“What?” he smirked down at you, his intimidating eyes forcing you to sit up and adjust your disheveled dress.

“Now,”... “you know s’well as I know” he walks to the bathroom door, unlocking it and turning back to you,

“Crybabies don’t get to cum.”

[fraugwinska]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 🎃 Jesus, today is a day of Uploads! xD I have to upload a buttload of more stuff, so bear with me! I didn#t think I'd finish on time - butt here it is! My take on Hazbin meets DBD! The Wheel of Misfortune gave me Angel to work with, and despite all odds, I wrote a story without SMUT! Can you believe it? :D The Masterlist can be found here - check out the works of all the other, talented writers and artists! It will be updated frequently, as Kinktober and other shenanigans came inbetween some of us and the deadline. But that only means we'll have fantastic fics and delicious drawings to look forward to! Thank you to everyone participating - for making this Event such a special one! You all are AMAZING! @redvexillum @ritualofcirice @chefskjssart @dewdropdinosaur @lumikello24

@macabr3-barbi3 @xalygatorx @melodyonthewireless @kewpikayo @jurijyuu

Warnings&Tags: Major Character Death, Pain & Torture, Physical & Psychological Abuse, Kidnapping/Abduction

Night. It was always fucking night.

Danny hadn't minded when the entity, whatever it was, had called on him. When the fog arrived, shortly after he left Roseville, he had embraced it, yeah, even felt giddy - he hated boredom, loved the thrill of the chase. And the realm the soundless voice promised him seemed to be a remedy for both. His old routine renewed by almost wickedly enhanced powers, his slaughters improved with every new, fresh meat hooked that he didn't care enough about to learn their names.

The first weeks the entity sent him alone into the woods in between trials. An unspoken pledge that once Danny has proven his worth, he'd join the others. Killers, like him, an arsenal of evil, depravity and death. He was intrigued by the prospect - acclimating in this environment was fun, but the real thing would be asserting himself next to legends like Myers or Krueger. So he did what he did best - Stalk and chase and kill, each new trial bumping up his adrenaline and fuck it was fun. Barely a trial went by where he didn't get the full set of kills, his reward plenty by the looming black thing above, sending him new powers and an overpowering sense of accomplishment. And if he missed one or two, the entity would soothe his flaring anger, the fog cold and calm on his skin when the world around him would collapse in fire and smoke - Don't worry about the pests that got away - There's next time, Danny Boy. And he always got them next time.

Finally he felt it - as the ground split in glowing reds and the heat took over the Autohaven, he felt the hot, dripping claws of the entity christen him. He had succeeded the trial by literal fire, and as he was pulled away, not north towards the lone patch of woods he had come to know, but south, the presence of evil growing bigger by the second, Danny left his old, useless name behind. The entity had given him a new one, one that he embraced with a laugh of euphoria: Ghostface.

***

While the survivors, as they called them so ironically, gathered around a campfire between trials, the hunters - killers, for a better term - were granted a real home. A shack in the same woods somewhere, filled with an Arsenal of weapons and tools for them to use as they pleased, and blood-stained, torn seats around a burning fireplace. Most of them lived in their own heads, some of them too animalistic to socialize. The ones that wanted to spend their times waiting together for ‘The Call’ on those seats, sometimes indulging in the strong, burning drinks the entity manifested along new blades or rods when she was pleased with them. And as all groups, the hunters, too, had a leader, as far as leaders can exist in a group of hungry wolves. Evan MacMillan was that one, although he, as most of the others, shed himself of that name when he became the Trapper. He was respected amongst both the vocal and silent, strong, calm and cold-blooded enough to keep brawls in between them to a minimum, one of the oldest and longest standing killers of the entity. But even he, after so many trials he had withstood, so many survivors he had killed through either the entity's hooks or his own hands, has never experienced anything like this before.

"Shit, come on, Bubba, get yourself together man." One of the Legions, Frank, clumsily patted the wailing monstrums back. The Hillbilly had never been able to speak more than just grunts and howls, making communicating with him often hard and frustrating, but the sounds he made now weren't hard to interpret - he, too, had just ended a trial with the new survivor. And as with a lot of them before, it wasn't the prey that had been scared and traumatized, but the predator.

The Nightmare took a swig of the last bottle of whiskey they had, hissing at the burn. "Can't blame the poor fuck - I've seen the dreams of that freak.... swear to god even I got nightmares after that."

"Frederick, pace yourself and leave some for the poor man." The Doctor chimed in, taking the bottle out of the sharp clawed hands and handing it to the Hillbilly with a mournful expression. "Only one chug, lad. Going at this rate, we might as well start to get accustomed to bread and water... She is not happy with us."

"Кто может винить ее? Мы все подвели ее с этим существом." (Who can blame her? We all have failed her with that creature.)

The Huntress threw another hatchet into a nearby wall, hitting the middle of the target she had painted with blood next to her previous four. Although her eyes were hidden behind the rabbit mask, Evan and the others could hear the sourness in her voice.

"Uhuh, sure, babe, whatever you say." Legion mumbled and rolled his eyes, handing the still sniffing Bubba a dirty rag to wipe his deformed nose with.

"Huntress is saying what we all think, Legion. We are failing. All of us." Evan sighed and brought one of his massive, rough hands up to wipe sweat from his temples. He knew the ropes of the entity's game, knew that some survivors had advantages, were more courageous or daring, even defiant. Evan was good, but not perfect, and he wasn't so far gone like some of the others to expect their victims to stay quivering, fearful messes like when they are freshly called upon. But the new one...

He... or it? Was so much more different than any survivor before him. Tall and lean, which would've normally make it so much harder to hide from them, flashy instead of discreet, loud and boastful instead of silent and secretive... human-like and yet so not-human at all.

"Ahhhh, another four for four, bitches!" The newcomer, Ghostface, as he had introduced himself, kicked open the door to the shack, his flowy robes drenched in blood and slimy mud that told Evan he'd been at Backwater Swamp. "Oh god, don't tell me Billy-Boy was too pussy to get over that new Survivor, too?"

The whole room growled at that remark, and Evan sighed in annoyance. The Ghostface had made more foes than allies in those few days he'd been sent to them as an addition to the entity's team of murderers. It wasn't that he was cocky, crude or obnoxious - they all were like that when they first came to the realm. What irked them all was the sense of superiority he wore so obviously on his sleeve, convinced that he was the entity's favorite, blessed by her dark energy and favored by her will.

"Fuck you, Ghostface, leave Bubba alone!" Legion spat, his facemask cracking with anger, while the Nightmare threw him a look of disgust and Michael, usually stoic and silent, turned his emotionless mask to its screaming counterpart, the blackened, hollow eyes almost flowing out with angered darkness. Evan wanted to shake the boy under the costume when he just laughed, the mockery blatant and offensive. "Are you guys telling me you, the creme de la creme of carnage, can't get a newbie under control?!"

The Trickster, who had been playing with his throwing blades with more than just an exasperated expression (which Evan could understand, given that his humiliating loss against the new survivor left too fresh of a wound in his ego), stood up with a hiss in the language none of them had been able to learn yet, but the Legion was faster, leaving Bubba in the care of the Wraith, stomping towards the cackling figure. "Listen, Fuckface - he asked the Spirit if she could give him tips about SHIBARI and yelled 'Harder Daddy' when the goddamn Executor tried to slam him into the ground... THAT'S NOT NORMAL!"

The Shape huffed in agreement, and the Nightmare added his own opinion in a raspy voice, scratching his distinctive scars around the face and neck: "I agree, he's fucking weird - insane, not scared of any of us. He doesn't even look like a normal survivor, and that's comin' from someone with that kinda face."

"That's a whole lot of words to say that you suck at your jobs, fellas." Ghostface retorted with a sneer in his voice, running his gloved fingers along his shining knife, the hilt still covered in blood spots but the blade pristine and almost glowing.

"Enough." Evan said, his voice booming across the room, effectively shutting the others up.

"You talk big, Ghostface. But you haven't had a trial with the one they call 'Angel' yet." Evan and the others felt the familiar cool wisps of air, harbingers of the arrival of the black fog for another trial. The Entity whispered the names of the prey into the winds - Evan had learned to listen for them long ago, and under his never-changing mask, he felt his lips pull into a rare smile. It was a gamble, risking to topple the weak chain of authority they had established among each other. But Evan felt that he wouldn't deserve the title nor the respect that came with being the leader if he would let this petty behavior and destructive jealousy continue. The favored one needed a well-deserved damper on his ego, and maybe the newest survivor - who- or whatever he was - could teach him that lesson. He stopped the Skull Merchant that had stood up to offer herself to take the trial with a wave of his bear-like hands and turned to the young killer, pointing his makeshift ax in his direction. "Maybe you are right. Maybe me and the others just don't have what it takes anymore to honor the Entity."

The silence that fell over the shack was heavy as the Entity's presence grew stronger, and Evan was sure the others could feel it, too, her excitement building up and electrifying the atmosphere surrounding the killer's shack. He ignored the burning fury in Legion's eyes, the angry scratch of Freddy's claws over moldy wood. The young man tilted his head in curious interest, letting his finger press into the edge of his blade until the leather broke and blood started to drip out of it in crimson pearls.

"Here's your opportunity. Show us, Ghostface, how you will fare against this new kind of prey."

***

"Oh my god, toots, move over, I can't watch this a second longer."

Angel rolled his eyes at the meek girl, brushing her dirty blonde hair out of her face as she let him take over. The other two were useless too - that Ace guy couldn't do shit even if his life depended on it - huh, which it literally did, now that Angel thought about it. And Renato was a sweet dude, a little too nerdy for Angel's taste, but he was still too rattled after his last trial with that hunk of a killer with the butt-stupid metal triangle head to be of any help except for maybe cleansing totems in between hiding in lockers. Angel couldn't blame him - he had seen how Sexy Back had Mori'd the poor dude, and it had not been the kind of gutted that Angel would've liked either. But Kate was a cool gal, a pretty face and too nice for her own good but normally very capable. She reminded him a little of Charlie, and the thought always stung faintly in his chest. Normally she would've rocked the generators, but for some reason, she was nervous and erratic this trial, her eyes always wandering around, looking over her shoulder every few seconds and fucking up the gen more than she repaired it. He let his second pair of arms grow out of his sides, cutting the time it took to finish the rest in half, and with a click the machine roared to life, steadily pumping electricity into the mainline for the exit gates. One down - four more to go.

"Jesus with a strap-on, Kate, I thought with what you look like you'd know how to get an engine going." He teased, but the girl didn't seem to even hear him, her eyes still scanning the dark woods behind them. "Sorry, Angel, sorry... it's just... don't you feel it?" "If you mean Big Mama's presence, then yeah. Pretty much hard to ignore with all the black claws and shit, but I've gotten used to it. Kinda feels like a well-worn, cheap training bra now." "No, not that... I think someone is watching us. Like... stalking."

Angel grabbed her arm and pulled her into some nearby bushes, the neon signs of the worn-down cinema blinking in the near distance. "Babes, 'ya know I can handle Mute Mikey. What I can't handle is you loosin' 'ya head now. Fuckin' Ace is hard enough to carry." They both crept along the sides of the forest nearer to the building. "It's not Michael... I can't explain... it feels different, like when Claudette told me..."

Whatever Claudette had told Kate - Angel wasn't about to hear it as Ace's screams of terror echoed through the forest from the other side of the entity's caged playground.

"Motherf... okay, 'ya go get that dumbass and heal up, imma find a gen and fuck it up so whoever it is will get distracted. Stay low, kay, sugartits?" Kate nodded with wide eyes, and ran into the darkness. Angel cursed that dumb fucker, finding a gen around a corner and let it misfire before he made a quick turn and went through the broken wall into the cinema show room of the Greenville Theatre. Fuck, a movie would be nice - watching one of making one, anything would be better than this. He silently went up the stairs into the storage room and began to work on the generator there.

Eyes on the goal.

Surviving wasn't what Angel saw as the goal. Even if he'd die in mommy's sick game, he knew from seeing the others revive at the campfire, only to be sent to another trial again a few moments later. Living or dying, Angel couldn't find himself to care, although he always chose to live, even if the others kicked the bucket and he was the last one standing. No, the goal was to get the fuck out of that shitty nightmare Val had sent him into. 

Whatever he had fucked up with 'The Entity', it must've been huge because the last time he saw him he was barely alive even by hell's standart. His wings were ripped from his back, his insides hanging out of a fat gash on his side and the studio a chaotic mass of fire, smoke and debris. And in all of it stood she. 

Roo. 

That's what Val had called her anyway, that bitch in edgy clothes and with those manic eyes, smiling in such a terrifying, blinding way with teeth sharp as an excorcist's blade that Angel thought just that smile could smite an army of sinners if she wanted to.

"Roo... I can expl...ain." Val had stuttered, blood running freely out of his mouth drenching his words.

"No need, Valentino. You and the other Vee's went all in with chips out of my own pocket, and you lost. And I don't like losing my stake."

She had summoned black, claw-like spikes, writhing like insects towards a panicking Val. He stumbled two steps back, noticing Angel creeping away, towards the crumbled wall, the running masses and the open streets of the Pentagram. Angel had seen Charlie and Vaggie forcing their way towards the burning ruins. And Husk. His Husk, wings outstreched and he was fucking flying over them all towards Angel. He had never seen him fly before.

"You can... Take! T...TTake him!!!" Val had screamed, falling to his knees as he pointed to Angel, coughing red and black onto the formerly pink, tacky tiles. His words sent a wave of hate and fear through Angel, and his eyes went from Charlie's tear-stained face to Husk screaming his name as he flapped his wings to pick up speed and fell onto her. Smiling at him, one slender, white finger with a black, pointy nail pressed into her cheek. She watched the cat demon dodge a falling beam and looked... amused as her eyes found his. She winked.

"Fine, you'll do."

Before Angel could even breathe to say something, or run, black fog encapsulated him, and only her glowing white smile and Husk's distressed scream of his name followed him as he fell through the darkness.

No. Surviving was just a crutch, a means to an end. His goal was to get that bitch Roo. To find his way out of this fucking mess. Back home, back to the hotel, back to Charlie and Vaggie and Niffty and even Alastor.  And most importantly: Back to fucking Husk.

Almost done with the gen his head turned as he heard two sounds at the exact same time: The sound of another generator coming alive and Renato's pained cry. That stupid man... Instead of running, Renato most likely had stayed on the gen to finish it, sacrificing himself to be thrown onto a hook. Angel shook his head, trying hard to focus on connecting cables and switch out gears. The others could get him off. They had learned that he was best at two things: Getting gen’s to work and screw with the killers.

But apparently, no one came close to Renato in time - when Angel stood up from the now running machine, he felt the dreading boom of a successful sacrifice - Renato had been swallowed by the entity, and from the muffled screams and misfiring generators him he knew that Ace had been already hung up too, and Kate was at least injured, if not on her way to be hooked by this rounds killer. Another boom told him Ace had given up - that asshole had most likely struggled too much to get himself off instead of waiting for him or Kate, and lost the fight against Roo's hungry claws. Which left him and Kate, and two generators to open the exit gates - not the best odds, with how fast this Killer acted and how idiotically nervous the usually so assured girl fumbled with the generators. He could wait for Kate to die and go for the hatch, but Angel knew he wouldn't. Not for Kate. Not after seeing so much of Charlie in her.

He made a dash down the stairs and through the arcade room, peeking his head out and spotting Kate's limp body on a nearby meat hook, swaying gently in the breeze. next to her stood an unfamiliar, cloaked silhouette, twirling a knife skillfully in gloved hands. This fucker was new, someone Angel had never encountered before. But he had heard things about him. The guys around the campfire had been wary of him, but as usual, Angel quickly had most of the girls at least interested in and friendly to him, and from the latest conversations, he remembered Feng-Min and Claudette talking about a new killer, a stalker like Magic Mike but more real, more humanlike which made them even more terrified of him. Someone that, unlike the others Angel encountered, seemed to be almost casual and gleeful to have been wisped away and thrown into trials by Roo, treating the trials like a personal, fun game... and from what he heard, he always won them.

He looked around and found an old can. Quickly and noiseless, he snuck along the Arcade walls to the opposite doorway, and hurled it with as much force as he could into the woods, trying to hit a hook to make as much noise as possible. He heard the guy's quiet steps outside, quickly but silently rushing towards his distraction, and Angel grinned as he exited the arcade room and ran towards a groaning Kate.

"Shh, babe, we ain't got much time, that fucker's fast." Angel whispered, quickly working on patching Kate up so she wouldn't leave a bloody trail behind her. "Angel, he's too good, I can't..." "'Ya can. I'll handle tall, dark and gruesome, make sure he won't get near 'ya. But 'ya gotta do two gens, okay? Open the exit the furthest away from us and go. Don't wait up for me - I can handle myself." His sentence ended as he finished closing her wound, and he shoved her into some bushes after she hesitantly looked around. "Don't argue, just move your ass, toots, and hide till the creep's found me."

Kate nodded, giving him a weak smile and a hushed 'Thanks, Angel.' before she turned and vanished between the trees. Angel looked up, the dark clouds swirling above him as the entity's - Roo's - displeasure vibrated through the air. She always hated when he did things like these - helping the others (maybe it was the general idea of doing good deeds) and her getting pissed off make Angel smug and satisfied.

"Yeah, yeah, bitch, rage all 'ya want - Bite me."

Angel didn't even try to be decent, no, he not much less than swaggered in the direction of where he threw the can. It was quiet, except for the humming of the generator Renato must've finished, but no sign of the cloaked figure. 

“Gee, look at little old me! All alone in the woods, totally helpless. Such a shame.”

Angel discreetly traced for blood or maybe footprints as he rounded a nearby hook, trailing the cold metal with one finger. He had a feeling of being watched, and yet couldn't see anything but trees and grass and dirt. The fog was thicker here, and a shiver ran through him as he could feel a pair of eyes on him, watching, waiting.

“Where are ‘ya, daddy-o? Baby lost his pacifier and needs something else to suck on…”

A quiet whir behind him made him turn and grab a lean and muscular arm, stopping the blade just mere inches away from his side. He stared not into a face, but a mask - a white, cheap looking rubber one, a white face with two black holes that looked like they were melting and a long, equally black mouth open as if in a blood-curdling scream. Angel cackled and tugged the arm, the killer surprised by his unexpected strength, stumbling forward until his head hit the hard, rusty metal of the meat hook.

"Uuuuh, what a nice long blade 'ya have, hot stuff." he cooed, putting his hands on his hips with a smirk as the cloaked figure whipped around with a grunt. "But if 'ya want to rearrange my guts, I know other things than a knife that are way more fun."

"You're a mouthy one, huh?" His voice was rough and saturated with aggravation. Young, not as young as the Legion fuckers, but younger than most of the killers Angel had met.

"Oh, daddy, 'ya don't know half of what my mouth can do. Care to find out?"

Angel dodged and tripped him as the killer pounced forward, quick but not inhumanly quick - interesting. His height was human, his voice too, his mannerisms, his motions, his speed and his abilities... not supernatural. Not like the other killers at all. He used the second of his weak momentum to lock the already twisting figure between his legs, pinning him on the waist into the dirty ground. Angel laughed as his upper pair of hands had the gloved wrists in a tight grasp, while he let his second pair of arms grow out of his sides to ram the fallen knife blade-first into the ground. In the distance, he hears a generator pop into life - Kate was doing her part, one more to go. Good girl.

"Fuck, you... survivors are not supposed to fight back." the stranger growled, squirming under him.

"Dang it, I forgot - we oughta run from 'ya! And 'yer supposed to kill me, right? And yet, here we are, handsome."

Through the layers of ragged, black clothes and cloak, Angel could feel a tight, muscular but lean body - hot, but definetly normal. Not bulky like the trapper dude, not slimy like the running Melty-face or cold and eerie feeling like the Ding-Dong-Douche. As the figure under him bucked again, he could also feel something else that was entirely human and he had to surpress a laugh.

"Ohooooo, daddy, is that a dagger in 'ya pants or are 'yay just happy to finally meet me?"

With a hot fury the killer ripped his hands free, planting a fist directly into his fluffy chest with surprising force. With a breathy sound that was half cough and half wheeze, Angel's grip around the young man's waist weakened, enough for the cloaked man to throw him off. Angel could hear a rib break at the sudden punch to his side - motherfucker, that would be a bitch to heal after the trial. As he propped himself back on his arms, the cool, dirty steel of his own knife's blade touched his throat and forced his gaze upwards to meet the mask's holes.

"Enough with the goddamn nicknames. I'm fucking Ghostface, and you better remember that name as you'll scream it when I'm done with you."

Jesus, that new guy made it too easy for him.

"Mmmmh... Kinky."

Decades of whipping around poles and fucking every porn actor pride had to offer - twice - had one or two good things going for Angel. Bendy as he was, and with strong, long legs he had no problem to just pull one of them forward and ram the pointy heel of one of his overknee boots straight into Ghostface's balls, leaving his captor sputtering and writhing while Angel pushed backwards to stand upright. He sauntered towards the disoriented man, kicking the knife further out of reach and looked at him with both pity and amusement as the last generator went off, and the blaring sirens of an exit gate about to be opened echoed through the forest. Kate was near - too near for Angel's taste, but it had to do.

"A'ight, Ghost Daddy, that's my cue. Me and Katie are gonna fuck off, was fun though, 'ya might get the hang of the whole killer thing if 'ya keep practicing."

"We'll see about that, Angel-Cakes."

Angel-Cakes.

The name echoed in his head like a bad spell, a curse. Fucking Roo must've fed him that fucking pet name, these dreaded words that Valentino had always used, along with his intoxicating pheromone smoke that had left him dizzy and weak-willed too many times to count. Using the moment of his stunned stupor, Ghostface flipped around, getting up with a speed Angel didn't deem possible or had accounted for, and rammed his elbow into his face before he started running - not to go for his blade that laid aside about four feet away or the trembling Angel, but straight for the woods. Straight for the opening exit gate. Straight for Kate.

Angel's eyes widened as a dark, content thunder roared from above - that bitch. That stupid bitch and her fucking new toy.

With a dizzy head he ran after him, wheezing from the pain in his face and stomach. There was Kate, screaming as she saw Ghostface coming, charging at her, her knuckles white from the tight grip on the lever to the saving exit. He could see her legs tense and start to bend to take off and make a dash to flee, to maybe hide, and before he could think any further, Angel lunged forward, using a tree as leverage to throw himself forward and tackle the approaching killer to the ground. There were gloved hands and black fabric everywhere, furiously trying to get him off, entangling in his limbs and his fluff and his hair, but Angel didn't care. He knew now what Roo wanted - had wanted all along. He had played her game exactly how she had wanted him to play it without realizing - Surviving the trials and saving his own ass. Good deeds upset her.

"Don'tcha let go of that fucking lever, Kate!" Angel shouted, feeling his head pulled by his hair back into his neck. Ghostface punched, pulled and clawed at anything he could find of him, but Angel held onto the fighting frame - today would be the first day he'd die in a trial. And that was exactly what Angel wanted. The signature bell sound of the dooms clock went off as Angel heard the heavy gates slide open. In the mess of his wrestling with the cursing killer he caught a glimpse of Kate, her eyes fixated on him as she started to run towards him. Her expression, her eyes... they had almost the same look in them like Husk's when Roo had pulled him away. Determined to get to him. Desperate to help him.

"NO KATE, GO!" he screamed, and was awarded another painful punch into his face and his hair pulled even further, but he didn't let go, even when tears started to wet his face, and Ghostface's laugh mingled with Kate's distressed shouts and cries as he felt cold, hard steel piercing his side. "FUCKING GO! NOW, DAMN IT!"

The earth shook with Roo's anger as the girl, sobbing his name, ran back and bolted through the gates into the nothingness. Finally, Angel let go of the heavy breathing killer. A twist of the knife and his arms gave out, his head falling next to Ghostface's masked face, only a small pool of blood escaping his lips.

"God fucking damn it - Fucking idiot, you ruined it. FUCK! What a pathetic excuse for someone called 'Angel'." The killer ranted with panicked rage, pulling on the slipped and oddly twisted mask that only clung to half of his face to pull it off and throw it on the ground with a frustrated growl as he got off him. Deep brown hair clung on his forehead from sweat, framing dead eyes with dark circles under them. His face was handsome, maybe even pretty, with sharp angles and a strong, set jaw that was locked in anger.

"Anthony."

The clock rang again, and the ground was breaking apart into deep red’s and black's.

"What the fuck did you say?"

The man stared at him, knife still in his hand as Angel smiled a bloodstained grin.

"My name, asshole. S'Anthony... Angel's the name my fucking pimp got me. Just like your stupid-ass one." He managed to throw the offended looking man before him a grin. "Can't tell me 'ya gave yourself such a lame-as-fuck name."

"You're pathetic. She honored me with that name - it's nothing like with you and your... pimp."

Angel laughed as he reached down to him with his black gloves to throw him over his shoulder. He didn't resist, no use in that anyway with the wound in his side, even if he wantted to. But Roo's anger was electrifying the air around him, she was upset in more than just one way. Not only had Angel found a way to get under her skin and sour her game - but it seemed that she was especially angry about the way her newest toy had handled this trial, and him.

"'Ya just wait, Ghost Boy. With folks like her and Val, they always show their real face, sooner or later. And I have a feeling 'ya gonna see for 'yaself real soon." ***

Ghostface's face was stoic and emotionless as he threw the skinny man on the hook. The world she had created was already crumbling - he was just in time. Three out of four wasn't bad, he knew that. But it wasn't just that he missed the perfect four. If she hadn’t helped him, he would've failed even more than he had. He felt her anger, her fury bubbling beneath the realm she created. Gone was the soothing aura and the gentle caress of her invisible fingers on his cheeks. All he felt was hot gushes of wind and unseen sharp nails scratching on his arms and neck. And for the first time, he feared the punishment.

"Danny." He said quietly, watching as the survivor's grin widened before the lights behind his unusual, unsettling eyes slowly disappeared. "I was Danny once."

The last words of Angel - no, Anthony - echoed in his head as the entity's claws ripped into the white and pink flesh of his victtim, pulling him up and ttowards the swirling clouds and the black fog, hot and scorching instead of cool and calming, wrapped around him and Ghostface fell - Not into the familiar darkness, but into a sea of fire, smoke and unbearable pain.

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (1)

“Yes… New York, that’s correct. JFK, if that’s possible, but LaGuardia works too if… you’re sure the closest flight you have is next Monday?” I run a hand down my face, and flop back against my dorm bed, cell phone wedged between my shoulder and my ear. “Sure, fuck it, put me on a waitlist. Yes, call me if a seat opens up… yes, this number is the quickest way to reach me.” I stare up at the ceiling as the receptionist talks, her polite, Britishness, beginning to grate. “Yes, thank you. Bye.”

I snap my phone closed and toss it as far away from me as I can with a groan. It’s sweltering, it’s exam week, and I can’t get a fucking flight home to Brooklyn for the life of me. The dorm is half packed - clothes and shoes from the winter stowed away in trunks, along with all of the non-essentials (decor and trinkets and the like). The rest of my belongings are scattered around, collateral damage from the mess of the last weeks of school. I long for the streets of New York - I haven’t had a bodega sandwich in almost a year. “If I have to stay on this stuffy-ass pretentious campus for even a week longer than I have to I might just slit my wrists in the fucking bath.” I say, mostly to the ceiling. I am so tired of Cambridge. 

“Jesus, Evie.” 

I sit up to look at Venetia - my flatmate, and one of my only friends here. She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. She’s maybe the only person in the world that can make bottle blonde look high end. Somehow she toes the line between cute and sexy without seeming like she’s trying too hard - on anyone else, dark grunge eye makeup and a button nose would look silly, but on her… she’s like Helen of Troy in Saint Laurent sunglasses. She's a good angel sent to make my year at Cambridge so, so much easier. It’s hard to make friends as an American exchange student at one of the most pretentious English schools in the world. Harder still when Venetia is also something of an outcast herself. I don’t care much though - she’s worth ten of these other British schoolgirls. “Sorry.”

She barely glances up at me, too busy filing her nails into rounded almond points at my desk, little flakes of old nail polish falling all over my schoolwork scattered there. “It’s your own fault for leaving it until exam week.”

“I know.” I say. I really should have booked a flight back home sooner, but it’s hard to remember to do anything else when you’re drowning in schoolwork and vodka at the same time. “I just didn’t think it would be such a pain in the ass to get home. I mean really, it’s like the whole fucking country’s just decided to go to New York. I’m on seven waitlists to fly economy, V. And I still have finals to do.” 

She grins down at her fingernails. “New Yawk.” She snickers, mocking my accent. “Still so American, even after a whole year here.”

“Might be two years if I don’t get a flight home.” I grumble, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “What color are you doing this time?”

Venetia holds up two bottles - one a dark gray, one more of a silver. “I’m thinking gunmetal underneath, silver on top.” She says conversationally, turning back to the desk to focus on her nails. “You could always come to Saltburn with me.”

“What?” I say, taken aback by her nonchalance. “V- c’mon. I can’t just go live in your family’s castle at the last minute, I mean, we leave campus in like two days.” These rich kids - I swear they think anything can happen at the snap of their pretty fingers. And she does have quite pretty fingers. 

She shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal - I mean, Felix brings someone home every year. Never the same person either.” She grins. “He’s a bit of a slut - in that way.”

“We leave campus in two days.” I repeat. Venetia - for all her lovely qualities - sometimes forgets about the logistics of things. I mean, if I was fuck-off rich, I’m sure I would too, but there just isn’t enough time for arrangements to be made for me to stay at her family’s mansion. It’s a generous offer, but… “I don’t want to just show up V, that’s so presumptuous. Rude, even. And I’ve got a whole year's worth of stuff with me, I can’t just lug it all to your house.”

“But you so totally can.” Venetia says, swiping nail polish over her fingertips. “There are at least six bedrooms that no one uses Evie, it would be no problem at all. And there’s more than enough room for all your luggage. Really, the house is just begging to have more people in it - why do you think Mum throws so many parties? The place is too empty - and it’s so boring over the summer, really you’d be doing us both a favor Evie, please?” She turns her head, batting her long eyelashes at me. 

God, she’s pretty. Too pretty for her own good. But- “I don’t want to intrude - I wouldn’t know anyone but you, V. It’d be awkward.” I say. I really would rather not feel out of place for a whole summer when I could be eating delicious bodega sandwiches with my friends that I haven’t seen in a year. 

“Please Evelyn?” She pleads again, this time using my full name. She only ever uses my full name when she really wants something. “It’s the perfect solution - you don’t have to stress about getting home, and I’ll finally have a friend to bring for the summer. I’ll have someone to talk to besides Felix and whatever poor soul he brings.”

“I can’t, V. It’s too last minute - I don’t want to intrude. I can’t.” I say. 

She sighs, a long, drawn out thing that sinks into my chest and twists around my heart in that way that only she can do. My determination to go home falters. Would it be so bad to stay in England for the summer? I’m already here - it’s not like I’d have to fly (and fight with the airline). The whole point I came to study abroad at Cambridge was to experience English culture, and what better way to do it than to stay in a giant fuck-off castle for a few months? And she seems so… desperate, really. I’ve always sort of been able to tell that she’s never had many friends just by the way she acts - and how the other girls here act around her - and the way she talks about how her brother always brings someone home makes me think that she’s a little jealous. 

“You’re sure it wouldn’t be too last minute?” I ask. 

Her face lights up, and she turns around in her seat again. “Not at all - the guest bedrooms are always made up anyway, it wouldn’t even be an issue. And it would be such fun to have you there, Evie - Mum will be so excited that I’ve brought a friend home. And Farleigh will finally have another American to talk to - it’ll be great, promise!”

next part >

[elacular-kink]

Hicvember 26: Least favorite OC

I dunno that I have any least favorite OCs, even to the extent that I have OCs at all, but I feel like I haven't done as much with Maya, though I could be wrong about that. So here's her flying too close to the sun in a story inspired by a comment from our esteemed Fish Writer on the very first Poly-techhic story. I think this'd take place sometime near the end of Olivia and Susanna's first year in college.

Contents: Hiccups, Arousal, painful hiccups, stomach chest and throat pain, hurt/comfort, big feelings, mush, references to sex-type stuff.

"Maya, have you ever considered physically exploding or throwing yourself into the sun?"

I couldn't help laughing at Susie, and I could see her bright red face get brighter and redder when I kept hiccuping super hard at her. "I me–*HEEK* mean, I kinda di–*CULP* did that alr–*HUCK*–ready, right? *HIULK-UK!*–g-guh!" Spread out in front of me were plates of bones from the hot wings I had slaughtered and devoured. I was so fucking full and my whole throat and chest and guts were on fire, and my huge fucking hiccups hurt like a bitch, but it was so worth it to see Susie squirm.

And squirm she fucking did. No matter how low she pulled her hood, even if she managed to hide all of her face, she couldn't hide how wiggly her hips were or the way her voice would catch when I hiccuped especially hard. "You're evil. You're evil and you're going to hell and they're going to crown you the queen bitch of the second circle."

"Hey, if I'm go–*HOK-ULK!* gonna go the–*URK* anyway, wh–*HIUK* why not go there *HNK* famous? *HNK-LK!* Nhnhf! Fuck, ow..."

"You deserve that. Whatever you're feeling right now, you definitely deserve it."

"No–*HOK* Not gonna arg---gue with you the–*HURK* there, champ." I rubbed my chest. Thank fuck my sports bra was mostly keeping my titties in place, or this would suck even more. And even though I didn't regret shit, I couldn't pretend I was having the best time in the world. "I'll be re–*HEEK* real, Susie, it'd pro–*HOK-LK*–ooohbly be be–*URK* best to keep thi–*CULP* this shit short. *HRK-LK*–g-guh. And you prob---bly don't want my fi–*HNKG*–gers or tongue ne–*URK* near anything imp–*HUP*–p-portant, so," I leaned back to give her a good view, ignoring the weird twinge in my stomach. "How 'b–*BUK*–bout we go somepl–*ULK* someplace private an–*HNK*–and you ha–*ULK* have a ride on thi–*URK* this big, stu–*HULK* stuffed gu–*HIUK–UK!*–guh, fuck!" I'd slapped my big, stuffed gut, and I didn't even do it that hard, but as soon as I did, everything fucking hurt and I wound up doubled over and tearing up, just trying to keep a hold on myself.

"Shit, Maya, are you okay?" Susie stood up, and a second later she came around the table. I could feel her hand hovering over my back and I wished she'd just fucking rub it or something, but fuckin'...

"*HIULK*–g-guh! *HURK!* Sonofa–*HIULK-HUK!* *HUKOLP!* Fuck, jesus fu–*HUCK*–christ!" They'd gotten faster, and now every single one was hurting.

"Fuck. Okay, hang on, lemme get you some water." Normally I'd argue with Susie on that one, but chrissake, yeah, I needed this shit to stop. Crap, I'd have to make up for winding her up like that later. My mouth was feeling way too hot again, and my stupid eyes were filling with tears, and fuck if that wasn't fucking humiliating. Especially in the middle of the goddamn cafeteria. I didn't wanna be seen crying like a bitch, I was the one who made people cry and moan and feel all sorts of shit.

I heard Susie running up to me. She was so much quicker than she thought she was. "Fuck, got some of it on my—whatever, doesn't matter. Here." She put down two mostly-full plastic cups of water. That was sweet of her. She knew it'd only take one sip to cure me, but she wanted to make sure. Goddamn. What a good girl. I grabbed whichever one was closer to my hands and slurped down a faceful of water, feeling just how uncomfortably full I was more and more. The water didn't help my burning face, because of course it didn't, but I didn't expect it to. Susie's hand landed uncertainly on my shoulder, and I could feel that she'd gotten the sleeve of her hoodie wet. "You okay?"

"Y-yeh, yeah, dude, I'm f–*HIURK!*–k-kuh!" I doubled over again, and I knew my eyes were practically bugging out of my head. "What...what the fu–*HUCK!*"

"Shit!" Susie pulled her hand away, and I really wished she'd knock that shit off, but that was pretty fucking far from my biggest complaint right now. "Fuck, uh...drink more?"

"N–*HOLK* no shit, Su–*HOOK* Sue-lock Ho–*OLK-ULK!*–ooohhhfuck..." I knew I was being a bitch, but fuck, my stomach kept fucking bouncing and burning and my chest and my face were on fire and these fucking hiccups were making my throat hurt and Jesus fucking christ I needed more water. But every swallow was a struggle to get down, and the whole glass felt like I'd tried to drink a gallon of milk. And even when I got all of it down—"*HURK!*–GUH! F-fuck, Sues–*HIUK!* Christ! Why wo–*HOLK!* won't it *HUKULK! HUK!* G-gaaahhhh! *HAULK!* Fuck!"

Fuck, was I actually crying now? It felt like tears were going down my fucking face. Jesus, what the fuck? But it hurt so much. Why the fuck was my body doing this to me? It was my fucking body! It did what I want and it was fucking good at it! What the fuck was this shit?!

...I remembered reading about some motherfucker who had the hiccups for 69 not fucking nice at all years.

And Christ, now I was crying even more about the stupidest shit in the universe and my hiccups were getting worse and that just made everything hurt more and fucking—

"Okay, I'm bringing you someplace else." I managed to open my eyes and look up at Susie, and I just barely saw that her face was still crazy red before she grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the seat. Trying to straighten up made my whole stomach scream at me, so I just kind of grabbed onto her and leaned on her. Somewhere in my head, I felt like shit that I was kind of teasing her or something, because my hiccups just kept coming, but I couldn't even think about sex right now. This wasn't fucking sexy pain. This felt like I was getting stabbed and drinking lava all at the same time every few fucking seconds.

I kind of expected her to just drag me to a bathroom since that was apparently where she went whenever she panicked, but instead, she brought me out of the building and into one I'd probably been in for some class or another at some point, but fuck if I could tell you what. I was barely paying attention to where we were going anyway. At some point, she opened up a door, then sighed softly. "Okay, nobody's here. Cool." She sat me down in an acceptable plastic chair, and I wiped my eyes and looked around and saw that I was in some sort of big semicircle room with wide stair-type floors and weird panels on the walls. In the back, I could see a xylophone and some kind of drums, though it didn't look like the kind of drums that Susie'd play. When I looked at her, she'd closed the door behind her, and I could see a sign through the only kinda see-through window. "Nobody'll bug us here, and the soundproofing's pretty good, so you don't have to worry about being heard or anything. I've, uh, I've called Olivia and she'll be bringing over a milkshake if you can drink any more. That might help." She was looking away from me really hard. Fucking doofus. She was doing that thing where she tries not to be turned on when she clearly fucking was. "But if you want me to leave you alone, I can step out and—"

"Dude, do–*HOULK* don't you fu–*UCK* fucking dare." I didn't wanna be fucking alone like this.

...I mean, I also kinda didn't wanna be around anyone like this, but I didn't wanna be alone more than I didn't wanna be seen.

"Uh, okay. Yeah, okay." Susie rocked back and forth. "So, uh, do you want me to kind of—" I dragged a chair in arm's reach next to me and smacked it. "Got it." Thank fuck she actually did get it, because she walked over and sat down, and when I pointed at my back, she got that too and started rubbing it, and it helped a tiny bit. "You're okay, Maya. It's gonna be okay."

"Fuck, Su–*HIUK* Susie..." I snorted and tried to wipe my face on my arm, but that precious fucking idiot caught my hand, then used her hoodie to clean me off. "Why are y–*HOULK* you so fucking–*HNKG!*–nnnnh!"

"S-sorry," I looked up at her and saw that she was looking away. "I, uh, I know you're hurting and I really shouldn't be—"

"Sweet." She looked at me and I swatted the back of her head. "Why a–*URK* are you so–*HIOLK* so fucking sw–*HEET*. That's th–*IURK* the question, stu–*HOOK* stupid."

"Ah—" She looked away, but I got to see her smiling before she did, and that made things feel a little less lava-stabbed. "I mean, this is, uh...this is kind of my fault so—OW!"

I'd smacked the back of her head harder this time and she glared at me. I glared right back. "You d–*CULP* didn't ma–*UCK* make me e–*HEUK* eat those wi–*HNGK*s, you fu–*HULK* fucki–*NGK* di–*HIC* dick–*HURK* dickhe–*EULK* oh god–*HULK!* *HICCULP* *HIULK* *HUCK* *HIUP* *HUCK-HUCK-HUCK–HICCOLP!* FUCK! Je---Jesus fucking *HLK* Christ!"

I was doubled over in pain again, and my throat felt so fucked up while my stomach was jerking out and making everything in it make weird fucking noises that I knew turned Susie on and I hoped that all my other shit was too loud for her to hear it because fuck if that girl needed more stupid shit to feel guilty about. One hand kept rubbing my back, and then her other landed on my stomach, very gently rubbing it too. I sat up and got a look at her, and the moron instantly pulled away. "S-sorry! Sorry, I shouldn't—" I rolled my eyes and dragged her stupid cold tiny hand back to my belly. "A-ah...y-yeah. Okay." She started rubbing it again, and it didn't take away much of the bad feelings, but at least there was some good too.

After...fuck if I knew, some number of minutes, the door opened up and Liv came in, a slushy in one hand and a vanilla milkshake in the other. "I know you like mint chocolate better, but I think that could be weird with the spiciness. Hi Susanna." Susie nodded and Liv dragged a chair over to my other side, shoving the milkshake into my hands. I had no idea if I'd actually be able to drink any of it, my stomach felt way too fucking full already, but I at least took a sip and kept it in my mouth. "Since we're in the music room anyway, I brought your guitar." 

I looked up and saw that Liv did have an electric guitar slung over her back, and she passed it to Susie. "Uh...thanks? I'm kinda helping Maya right now though?"

"That's why I brought it. When I feel like garbage, hearing Susanna sing makes me feel better." She could sing? I mean, I kinda half knew that, but it wasn't like I'd ever successfully dragged her ass to karaoke anywhere.

"Olivia, my singing doesn't have magic powers, you should know that. It doesn't cure—" She stopped mid-sentence and I kind of snorted at that. Fuck, her failing to say the word was always kinda funny. "...you know, stomachaches or anything."

"It's still nice. Maya, what's your favorite song?"

Fuck, Liv wanted me to fucking think right now? And what songs did I even know? I'd have to swallow the milkshake too. I managed it and didn't feel too much like shit, but it still felt kinda gross. "Ugh. *HNLK*. Shit, I du–*HULK* dunno, Liv.  *HURK*–guh. Fuckin'...gi–*HIRK* girls just wanna ha–*URK* have fun or so–*HMK* some shit like tha–*HULK*–at?" I was surprised when I heard Liv snickering, and I saw her smiling when I looked up. "Does Sus–*HEEK* even fucking kn–*HOULK* know that one?"

There was a smack, and when I looked over, Susie was rubbing her face with the hand she'd taken off my back. "Of course I fucking know that one," she sighed, then got up. Liv was less of a pussy about giving back and belly rubs than Susie was, so I was able to chill a little more. Susie didn't start singing right away though. Instead, she walked off into a little side room, then came out carrying a whole-ass keyboard and stand and shit and she set it up at the front of the room. "Gonna have to lower this shit a whole fucking octave. Fucking sopranos." I was wondering why she didn't just use her guitar or the actual piano that was literally right there when she suddenly dragged her hands up and down the keyboard, then started playing it super happy and fast before she burst into fucking song. "I come home in the mornin' light, my mother says, 'When you gonna live your life right?' Oh, mama dear, we're not the fortunate ones, and girls, they wanna have fun! Oh, girls just wanna have fun!"

My brain kind of didn't accept what the fuck I was seeing until she started singing again, and I burst the fuck out laughing. I couldn't stop cackling and Christ, that made me hiccup like crazy and everything was in fucking agony but Jesus. "St–*HIURK* stop, sto–*HOP!* Fuck!" She did stop, but it took me way too long to actually stop laughing. "Chr–*IULK* Christ, Sue, *HLK* don't ma–*UCK* make me fucki–*HNK*–gghhh!"

"Shit, right. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you just did what she told you to." I gave Liv a thumbs up for saying it so I didn't have to.

"Guess I can play some other Cyndi Lauper."

I squinted down at my thighs before I looked up at her again. "Some wh–*HAUT*?"

Susie squinted back at me. "Cyndi Lauper. You know. The person who wrote the fucking song."

"...oh. *HNK*"

Somehow, even though she was still blushing like crazy, Susie looked absolutely fucking offended. "You don't—bitch, how the fuck do you not know who Cyndi Lauper is?"

"We don't all have the history of music from the 50s onward memorized," Liv saved my ass.

"It's fucking Cyndi Lauper! If anyone should know about her it's Maya! There's a fucking sex toy shop named after one of her songs!"

"Wha–*HAUK–at?!" I started laughing again. "Okay fu–*HUCK* fuck gir–*HIRK* girls just wann–*AULK* have fun, *HNLK* sing tha–*UCK* that shit!"

"NO!" Fuck, she was so fucking red, this was amazing.

"She actually probably shouldn't right now. If you laugh more you might die." Fuck, Liv was right. I groaned and my stomach and throat remembered to let me know I was a fucking dumbass.

Susie huffed and glared at me before actually walking over and picking up the guitar she'd left across her seat before moving back to the real piano and sitting on its bench. That was fair if I was honest. I'd probably fuck with her while she was trying to play it. After plunking the strings a bit, she nodded. "This'd definitely sound better on acoustic, but...fuck off, this one's mine."

"You're the only one being weird about it, Susanna."

"Fuck off more." Liv shrugged, and if these two wanted me to stop laughing, they should have stopped being so fuckin funny. After a moment, she actually stood up again and moved behind the keyboard, tapping something on it before pressing the keys. Instead of fake piano noises coming out, it made some fucking bongo sounds in a beat before she pulled her hand back to the guitar and started playing. Before I could figure out what the fuck that was about, though, she started singing too: "You with the sad heart, don't be discouraged, though I realize it's hard to take courage. In a world full of people you can lose sight of it all, and the darkness that's inside you makes you feel so small."

Before I even knew what the fuck was happening, I was just staring at Susie while she sang about true colors and loving people and support and...Jesus Christ, this fucking girl. This fucking girl. Liv was smiling. Even Liv was smiling. She only smiled when she was really fucking happy. Susie made her so fucking happy.

She made me so fucking happy too.

When she wound the song down I felt like the gayest girl in the fucking universe. "Your true colors, true colors...are beautiful like a rainbow." She pulled her hand away and played the drum noises with the keyboard again, then sighed and took her guitar off her shoulder, putting it down on the bench. "So. Any more requests?"

"G–*HOK* God, I love you."

Susie looked like a deer about to be murdered by a truck. "Uh—!" Her mouth opened and closed a bunch before she shook her head. "There are, um, a lot of songs with that title probably so you might need to—"

"You know that's not what she meant."

"...ah?"

Liv looked at me, and Susie was definitely staring at me. Shit. I hadn't really thought about it before I said it. But trying to back out of it was clearly fucking stupid with Liv right there, so I sighed and took another sip of my milkshake to buy a little time, then sat up a little straighter. "Yeah. *HNK* Liv's right. *HIK-ulk*. I meant I lo–*HUK* love you, Susie. *HMNK* And, uh, I lo–*ULK* love you too, Li–*HILK* Liv." Neither of them said anything, and boy was that not good for how my chest, throat, and stomach felt. I laughed a little, just to feel less tense. It didn't really work. "I've always kind—*AUK* kinda fell fast, you know? *HNK-lk* You don't go–*HOK* gotta say it back or *HNK* anything."

"Good!" Susie only seemed to realize what she said a split second after saying it, then shook her head. "Not, that, uh! I didn't mean—! I, uh—"

"And people say I have no tact." Liv took my chin and made me look at her instead of at Susie freaking out, and even though Liv didn't do eye contact, she did it right now. "What Susie means is that she's bad at saying that and probably won't for a while, but she really cares a lot about you. As for me..." She looked away and bit her thumbnail while she stared up at the ceiling. "Well, I'm definitely not in love with you. That's not gonna happen." I nodded. We'd established that one. "But I think that I do love you. And if I don't yet, if things keep going like they're going, I think I will." She smiled at me. It was one of her on-purpose smiles. She sucked so hard at that, but she only ever did it when she really wanted people to know she meant it.

...fuck, I was crying again.

"Hang on, don't hug me yet." I wasn't going to, but it made sense that Liv thought I was. And I really fucking wanted to. "Susanna, let me—thank you." Susie tossed Liv her hoodie and Liv sort of threw it over one shoulder, then pulled me into a hug herself, resting my chin on the hoodie. She held me and she rubbed my back, and she hummed in my ear. "I don't want to get your snot on me. But I do want to hug you. And I think you could use it." I sobbed and hiccuped like a fucking goober, but they both hurt way less now.

After a few seconds, I felt Susie wrap her arms around both of us, taller than us for once in her fucking life since she was standing and we were sitting. I imagined her towering over us and cackling and I couldn't stop myself from laughing again. That hurt less too though.

I laughed more at my own dumb thoughts a second later: Even if I did catch the hiccups for 69 years, it'd still be nice if I had these girls around me. Fuck, someday I'd tell Susie that joke and she'd throw the nearest fucking object at my head and it'd be so fucking funny.

Not now though. Now with those two holding me, shit was just perfect.