#and found one that is titled ''fuck [name of my friend's girlfriend who i have many issues with]''. and i. i keep listening to it

[eggmeralda]

listening to the sort of music that would kill my onceler oc within an instant

[eph3merall]

I JUST FOUND YOU BUT PLEASE PLEASE ANOTHER STALKER!MATT FIC (for ideas maybe while she’s on facetime with him hes.. yaknow and his camera is on which is more riskier, or another idea is she posted a photo on instagram or something thats a little more on the 18+ side and he… yaknow)

i got u 🙂↕️ piggybacked off an idea kinda ????? been meanin to visit stalker!matt i miss him :( this is sooooo late as well im so so so sorry !!! not proofread i cant STAND rereading things i write

18+ content, suggestive, stalker!matt . dont read if this isnt your cup of tea :)

—

matt has a habit of knowing where you are and who you're with at all times. well, most times. sometimes he messed up, a mistake on his part. sure, your sweet, little self is his best friend, and it is wrong for him to do the things he does and think the things he conjures up in his head. but it's so hard not to want to blow your back out or tug at your hair with his dick in your mouth when you just look so pretty on your new instagram photo dump.

matt knows where these photos are taken—you and your little group of friends having gone on a trip by yourselves and driving around cute places. the beach, a flower field, museums, art galleries, you name it. multiple photos of you and various girlfriends posing or sipping drinks, until matt sees some selfies of you guys at a bar.

'what the fuck?' are the words that spew from his mouth when theres suddenly a video playing of you guys downing shots and giggling. the music is loud and the crowd in the video is boisterous and looks most likely high and or drunk. the video is a fairly short one, but he doesn't miss the way a guy is snaking his hands around your waist as you turn and grin at him so prettily.

matt's thumb swipes immediately, not wanting to stare at that sight anymore. he doesn't realize the way his fingers grip his phone a little tighter, blinking at the last image in your new little photo dump.

the dress clinging to your figure was anything but modest, paired with the way you looked with your friend. the shot was a little blurry, the cameraman was probably drunk or something. your friend stood to your right, leaning towards the camera with her upper body. a shocked expression lay on her face, one hand covering her mouth while the other splayed on top of her thigh. her eyes diverted away from the camera.

you, on the other hand, have your ass almost directly facing the camera. wide googly eyes stare at the matt through his screen over your shoulder, your shoulders hunched and hair a pretty mess. the hem of the dress you wore rode up and gave him just a little peek of your ass, and god—his dick strained uncomfortably in his jeans. the way you looked so innocent yet so enticing, knowing nothing is by far innocent in the photo.

the caption of the dump was titled 'with my girls <33', and upon opening the comments there were immediately your friends' usernames hyping you up. specifically the last photo. matt scoffed under his breath at how you responded with your little emojis and what-not. the lingering thought of the guy who briefly showed up in the dump was still in his head, to which he stashed in the back of his brain. because matt will find out who that was.

but first, he can't miss the way his dick twitches ever so slightly in the confines of his jeans and belt.

soon enough, he has his belt strewn haphazardly on the floor of his room and his pants pool at his ankles. tongue prodding his cheek, chest heaving with a heavy exhale as his hand thumbs at his tip. a hiss leaves his mouth and he's spreading the pre that's leaking from his slit down the length of his dick.

his free hand fumbles for his phone that sits on the edge of his desk, swiping to that god forsaken photo that gives him a peek of your ass. a grumbled whine rips from his throat and his hand wraps around his length—starting to pump slowly as his eyes scan over each and every single feature of your body and face in the picture.

matt's fingers grip his phone tighter and your name is falling from his lips in whiny breaths and huffs, the occasional curse getting muttered under his breath. the pace of his fist increases and soon enough he's getting himself off to not only the photo of you—but the scenarios he keeps caged up in his head.

your face stuffed in a pillow with your ass up, his palm splaying across the cheek as his dick rams into you. drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth as he holds your head down on his cock, nose pressing into his pelvis as he feels your gag reflex kick in. your body laid all perfectly on his bed, thighs spread and squirming. his tongue poking at your entrance and his hands gripping the flesh of your hips and thighs, holding down harshly to make sure you don't thrash around so much.

matt doesn't realize he's busting until his balls tighten and your name is chanted over and over again in a whiny breath, like a prayer. his fist slows and his chest heaves up and down with each heavy gasp of air, eyes gazing at the photo on his phone and lingering for a little while.

—

goodnight i havent had motivation to do anything recently how are u all i love you guys !!!! if u sent in a req i will get to that just itll be very very slow .....

©eph3merall 2024

[7s3ven]

WHAT HAPPENS IN VAGAS STAYS IN VAGAS. simon riley

( just an idea)

I recently watched a movie set in Vegas that had the title (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas) as its motto and I thought it’d be a really funny plot. I’ll use Ghost as a placeholder for now.

But yeah, imagine reader and Ghost (total strangers) get married in Vegas and they’re like “wtf” and they don’t officially divorce so, hey, Ghost actually has a wife on paper. And then Laswell introduces TF 141 to a transferred worker and what do you know, it’s Ghost’s Vegas wife.

Ghost wasn’t known for drinking past his limits. In fact, he barely had any. He wasn’t a light weight in the slightest. He could drink at least twenty large pints of beer and still be fully sober. But, it seems Vegas had fucked him over. He blamed Jonny for convincing the team to take a holiday to America.

He could still taste the fruity cocktails on his tongue as he sat up, rubbing his face. His mask was discarded to the side, lying on the floor. The room was surprisingly tidy as he leaned over the body beside him to retrieve his mask- wait, that wasn’t right.

Ghost let out a grunt of surprise, staring at the person beside him. His gaze immediately landed on the wedding ring that glinted in the dim light. His heart lurched. Had he slept with a married person? His brows creased as he tried to remember what had happened. Who even was this strange woman? He had never seen her before.

Ghost racked his brain for clues until he realized that the woman beside him was the one he had been eyeing all night in a drunken state. He thought she was pretty and he hadn’t seen the ring before.

He looked down at his own hand, eyes widening even more at the sight of a matching wedding band. It didn’t take a genius to piece everything together.

Ghost hadn’t slept with an already taken person, he had fucking married a stranger instead. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that seemed a little better than ruining a marriage because he drank too much.

You stirred and Ghost froze as you opened your eyes, blinking in confusion. “Where am I?” You were just as confused as he was. “Hey, did we sleep together? You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” Your words slurred together. You glanced at the ring on his finger, lurching back. “Oh my gosh! Are you married?! Did I fuck a married person?! I’m so sorry!”

“Look at your own finger.” Ghost grumbled. “Wasn’t married before I met you.”

At least you were a smart one. “Oh… we married each other… um, what’s your name?”

“Simon Riley.”

“Y/N L/N.”

The two of you shook hands, still tangled in the white bedsheets.

“So… what happens now?” You mutter.

“I gotta get to work. Give me your number so I can call ya and we can… figure whatever the hell this is out.”

You hand him a piece of paper with your digits written on it. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed and walk out of the hotel, already texting your friends on what you had woken up to.

Hours passed and then days and finally months. And there was no call from the handsome man you had accidentally married. And there was no chance of even divorcing if you couldn’t get in contact with him.

So you endured it. And whenever your friends asked about the ring, you told them the story of how you had managed to get drunk and marry a total stranger. They found it hilarious.

Kate Laswell was the woman who entirely changed your life, in more ways than another. When you were a teenager, she helped you out of a slump. You owed her a great deal for saving you at your worst. So when she asked you to transfer from your secretary line of work in the military to a special operations unit as their new intelligence operative, you agreed.

She had given a meaning to your life, a well-paying job that could support you, and unintentionally reunited you with the man who was bound to you on paper.

��This is Y/N. Treat her nice.” Laswell says to the four large men towering over you. But you only have eyes for the one with the Skull mask. You could recognzie those vivid eyes anywhere.

He wasn’t wearing gloves, giving you a perfect view of the wedding ring still sitting on his finger. You couldn’t blame him, you still wore yours too for some reason.

“Ey, LT, yer gon’ a burn a hole in the poor lassie if ya keep starin’ like that.” John Mactavish, aka known as Soap or Jonny, said, laughing. “You like ‘er or somethin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s my wife after all.” Ghost grunts. You want to pinch the bridge of your nose. How could he say such a thing without context?

Gaz is the one who makes a fuss over Ghost’s statement. “Wait, you’re married?! And you didn’t invite us?!”

“It was in a dingy church.” You say to fill in the gaps.

“Where?” Gaz presses on.

You and Ghost exchange a look, embarrassed about your reckless actions. “Vegas.” You both say in unison.

You can practically see the cogs working in Soap’s head as he gasps. “Is that where yer disappeared off to? Ya got married to a pretty lass without tellin’ us? How long have y’all known each other?!”

You clear your throat as you hear the quiet sound of Laswell chuckling. Glad to see she finds your predicament amusing. “We don’t.”

“So you married a stranger?” Soap’s eyebrows furrow. “Ey, how come you got married before me?!”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Ghost reminds his team members.

It’d be really funny if, even after that, you and Ghost still don’t divorce. And y’all actually start treating each other like lovers.

Like, yeah, we were strangers and got married in a church in Vegas but we won’t divorce because the married life is actually better than expected. What about it?

Ghost literally brushes off the fact that you guys were strangers. He treats you like his wife, bringing you food and wiping your makeup off when you’re too tired to do so. And eventually, you guys just accept it.

[eurydicees]

i think iwaizumi is like. ok so he comes off as cool and athletic and smart and popular and, yk, to a degree, he totally is! he’s incredible at volleyball and he gets decent grades and he’s a good friend and overall well-liked by the general seijoh population.

ALSO at the same time he is like. the lamest popular guy in the world.

this is a title that oikawa has given him and the part that iwaizumi protests is not “lame” but “popular.” some points that oikawa makes, when talking to iwaizumi about how much of a normal average deeply Just A Guy iwaizumi is:

iwaizumi’s favorite activity is, first and foremost, volleyball; and second, it’s “spend time watching d-rated martial arts movies with my best friend.”

i appreciate it and love this, oikawa says, obviously, but you do have other things you can do with your time. do you know that. it doesn’t seem like you know that.

he’s popular, he has other friends, he could have his pick of girlfriends, and he chooses to instead monopolize oikawa’s time through varying methods of aggression and/or affection.

why do you not have a girlfriend yet, oikawa asks. i’m too busy keeping you in line, iwaizumi says. to which oikawa replies, you suck at being popular, iwa.

people think he’s cool because he likes the outdoors, likes going on hikes with his free time, excels at every athletic task, etc etc.

what they do not know is that he likes going on hikes to look at the changing leaves and his favorite way to interact with nature is like his fucking rock collection or some shit.

do they have names, oikawa asks, teasing. shut the fuck up, iwaizumi says. then, fucking obviously they have names.

he’s not scared of bugs, girls whisper when he passes in the hallways. he saved me from a spider one time, they say, and oikawa claims they swoon.

and like, oikawa HAS to laugh because this is the same boy who tried to keep a tank of beetles he collected from the park and cried hysterically both first when they all escaped, and second when his mother yelled at him for ten minutes about the five she found in the sugar jar. he was fourteen.

“he’s so smart,” someone says admiringly when iwaizumi helps them a bit with their class work. oikawa is rolling his damn eyes because iwaizumi is smart, sure, he’s doing fine in school, but he’s evidently not smart enough to calculate the risk/reward of a monetary bet on how many pork buns he can fit in his mouth. more than 8 gets him 1000 yen. less than 8 makes him lose 1500.

what the fuck was he thinking, oikawa is forced to ask, first when he nearly has to perform the heimlich maneuver and later when he buys iwaizumi a consolation bottle of water. what the fuck.

people think he’s mysterious and stoic and kind of darkly intriguing because he doesn’t necessarily laugh a lot while he’s in class and focused, and while he’s friendly with everyone, he still sticks pretty close to his little group.

oikawa cannot believe that anyone could ever think this because iwaizumi gets home after school and does not shut the fuck up. and he’s so easy to make laugh. and his every expression is so easy to read.

how could you possibly have anyone convinced that you are cool and mysterious, oikawa asks. how the fuck did you do that.

iwaizumi is forced to shrug. he doesn’t really have an answer. people just kind of make their own assumptions about him no matter what he does. doesn’t matter anyways. oikawa might be the only one who seems to truly get him, but he’s okay with that. if it had be one person, he’s glad it’s someone he loves.

and now what the fuck is oikawa supposed to do with that.

(push him down on the bed and kiss him, oikawa finds, seems to be the right answer.)

[leclsrc]

masterlist

writing for charles, carlos, max, & mick (subject to change)

minors dni. everything can be found here ↓

✳︎ fics, long

charles leclerc...

blurred lines (18+)

Things with Charles finally come to a head. In a cramped room. In the Red Bull garage. Of all places, really.

see it through

You go from social media manager to girlfriend in under a day. Keeping up appearances for Charles’ family isn’t easy, until it is – and until they’re not really appearances anymore.

sweet pea

You finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

stay, at least for breakfast

You love once and miss always.

you know it (18+)

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

wait and see

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

low down (18+)

A lot can happen under an hour. You and Charles, self-proclaimed pros at sneaking around, can attest to this.

it's never over (18+)

You must have lost the plot along the way, because pretending to date your childhood best friend was not on your 2023 bingo card. (Neither was the fact that things are looking a lot more real as time passes.)

team effort ft. carlos sainz (18+)

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing.

like you should

If you don’t learn from history, it’ll stick around and find a way to repeat itself – even if the history is with your boyfriend’s rival, and its repetition happens behind his back.

max verstappen...

low life (18+)

You really don’t like Max Verstappen. What you’re doing in his hotel room is a separate issue.

↳ part 2, reciprocate (18+)

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together.

mick schumacher...

mr. nice guy (18+)

Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.

carlos sainz...

a certain romance

A love affair is never an easy thing to keep under wraps. Or, the four times your two brothers almost catch you and Carlos together, and the one time they finally do.

has yet to pass

Four years after an angry breakup, the universe is bored enough to nominate Carlos Sainz for GQ Sports’ Man of the Year and assign you to be the writer of his profile.

team effort ft. charles leclerc (18+)

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing.

do you want it? (18+)

Whatever preconceived notions you have about your summer at the beach house are all toppled over when your parents announce the arrival of a guest, who happens to be your dad's friend. title from this

✳︎ drabbles

charles leclerc...

forever ago

↳ part 2, fin de siècle

motorsport ft. carlos sainz (18+)

everyone adores you

all my trying

the moment divine

words unspoken

things lovers do

something

overly sincere

the final frame

keep a place for me

honeymooning

proving my devotion

main dans la main

misspelled (dad charles)

presents

felt the rush (18+, sainz reader)

my own doing (18+)

olive you

divine sense

first words (dad charles)

take a chance on me

say it all

test run

guessing game

intertwined

name calling (wolff reader)

what you know

max verstappen...

self professed

carlos sainz...

silver lining

motorsport ft. charles leclerc (18+)

kissy spells

saving grace

need some patience (18+)

what i feel for you

brought me here

↳ part 2, kind of love

i knew you

guessing game

in my dream

mick schumacher...

you’ve been waiting (18+)

hold my hand

✳︎ instagram aus

charles leclerc...

is that you?

at sea

say cheese

good luck

ahead

#ItGirl

cutie

archived

↳ part 2, what once was

↳ part 3, mardy bum

spill the tea

deleted

maneater

kazoo'd

carlos sainz...

national holiday

tiktoked

↳ part 2, sneaky

↳ part 3, upgrades

max verstappen...

no clue

mick schumacher...

secret

✳︎ etc

auds’ recs tag

auds ask game

celebrating 1k, 2k, and 3k :)

[starry-eyes-love]

Hollywood Story

Masterlist

Pairing | Dieter Bravo X Curvy F!Reader (nicknamed ‘pretty little girlfriend’)

Summary | You wake up to find the Hollywood News article plastered all over the internet of Dieter kissing his co-star, Amy, while on set for the filming of his recent movie. At first, you find the article funny until you start reading the comments and see another article calling you a fat cow. Dieter puts these false rumors to rest once and for all with a funny live Instagram talk.

Note: For the text messages: bold with italic text is from Dieter, just italic text is from you, and bold and red colored text is from his agent, Kat.

A/N:  We all saw the photo that is making a lot of us feral with that kiss.  I wanted to have a funny little story that went with this.  For some reason, this screams Dieter at me in my mind.  

A huge thanks to my good friend from CAImages on Instagram for pulling this photo together at the last minute for me.  Enjoy :) 

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Warnings | 18+, language

References to body image issues for F!reader (no descriptions except that she is curvy), reference to a cast made of Dieter’s crotch, mentions of previous phone sex (but no details given besides that), Dieter being Dieter.

Word Count: 3.4K

You guys are too nice saying I’m sexy.  Who knew that the belly was sexy, huh? But you know what, you all want to fuck me and the belly, but yet none of you can say one nice fucking thing to my pretty little girlfriend.  I’ve spent all morning reading everyone’s comments online, saying how she isn’t attractive because she has curves. Fuck. You know I love those curves; they feel so good. I love making love to the woman who has those sexy curves.  So, if I’m sexy with this belly, then she can be sexy with her curves too, you know.”

When you pulled up the app to read your morning digital copy of the newspaper, the image popped up on your home screen.  The headline read, “Dieter ends long-term relationship with girlfriend for another woman.”  You usually never cared about those articles, especially when your longtime boyfriend of 5 years was working on a movie set.  You knew that Dieter was in the process of filming a romantic love comedy, and you knew there were kissing scenes.  But this headline piqued your interest, so you clicked on it to read further.

“Sources say that these two co-stars had connected during the filming of the latest romantic movie, titled “I Want You, which stars Dieter, as a lawyer who just moved to New York City and found love with the daughter of the man he is trying to put in jail. People have spotted these two co-stars snuggling up together and having private moments late into the night after filming has wrapped. Recently, reporters caught a private moment of these two as Dieter’s co-star walked him to his car after a long day of filming. Before leaving, reporters captured a long and tender kiss that co-star Amy had given Dieter before he left.  Hollywood wonders if this is it for Dieter and his long-time girlfriend. Sources closest to Dieter say that his current relationship with his girlfriend is over with and that he is moving on, citing the reason for the split was infidelity accusations, among other things.” 

You had to laugh at the tabloid article, considering that last night, you had some of the best phone sex with your boyfriend.  You were moaning his name as you fucked yourself with a dildo that he bought you before he left to go and film this movie.  It was a cast of his hardened cock, a present for his pretty little girlfriend who missed her man dearly on these long movie shooting times when he was away from home.

Pulling up your phone's message app, you sent your boyfriend a copy of the article and some accompanying sass.

Dieter had been lying in bed, dozing on and off this morning.  He had a late call back last night and had to shoot some nighttime scenes.  So after his long day and some nice phone sex with his pretty little girlfriend, he had to go back to work and shoot for another 3 hours.  Yesterday was a 15-hour workday, and he was exhausted.  The studio gave him a day off, saying he could rest up as the following scenes didn’t involve him. 

When Dieter heard the ding of his message app, and then another one, he figured he needed to check to make sure it wasn’t the studio telling him that they had changed their mind and that he’d still have to come in today.  When he pulled up his messages, he saw two were from you.  He stretched and sat up in bed, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and placing them on his face so he could read what you sent.

So apparently, according to the tabloids, you are cheating on me, and our relationship is over.  By the way, it was a lovely kiss. I'm somewhat jealous that those lips on you weren’t mine.

“What the?” Dieter mumbled to himself at your message.  He clicked the link to the article and saw the picture of the kiss, of a moment playing out during a scene.  It wasn’t unheard of for paparazzi to snap photos of scenes filmed outside, especially along the roadway like yesterday. He glanced down the page and saw the quick article about the photo. As he read through the article, he cursed under his breath at the fact that the tabloids would print something so false.  He quickly typed out a reply to you and then got up and headed to the bathroom to take a piss. He needed to call his new publicist and give him a piece of his mind. He was paying good money to ensure articles like this would not appear in Hollywood, and if they did, he’d know about it ahead of time. So why did this get through without his knowledge? It blew his mind and angered him immensely.

You were slowly sipping your morning coffee, waiting to see what your boyfriend had to say. When you heard the ding of your message app, followed by a few more, you knew he had thoroughly read it.

Jesus

How do people even come up with this shit?

I need to fire my publicist.

No, you don’t need to fire your new publicist.

Are the allegations true?

What?  NO! 

Absolutely not, baby!

I'm just checking because, you know, apparently, infidelity accusations have happened, and I’m not giving you everything you need or something.

Another article cites that I have more curves, and that’s why you did it because I’m not skinny.

Stop! 

That’s not true, and you fucking know it.

I love your curves, baby, and I love you.

It’s just assholes thinking that they know what’s going on but don’t.

Yeah, well, I guess.

You guess? What the fuck do you mean, you guess?

Baby, that was a scene from the movie I’m shooting, a scene.

Not. The. Real. Thing

Ok, if you say so.

What, what the hell- look, I’m not even relaxed like when I kiss you.

Plus, my tongue ain’t even down her fucking throat like it is with you, baby.

I know; it’s just a lot right now. And everyone keeps asking me if the rumors are true. 

Fuck. The longer that Dieter looked online, the more he saw that it was a fucking nightmare.  People accused him of kissing his co-star, Amy, on his off times. One article even claimed that someone saw him fucking her in the ally, which was not even true.  He had to make them stop, not because they were true.  None of them were.  It was just a photo from a movie shoot that he was doing and nothing else.  His co-star was not his type; she was not someone he found attractive in the way he found you attractive.  Sure, Amy was pretty, and she had a beautiful personality, but she was not someone he’d want to be balls deep in, fucking her against the wall like he loved to do with you.  

He was glancing at all the articles, and then he came across one in particular, one that referred to you as a “fat cow,” and that was when he had enough.  He immediately dialed his publicist and gave that son of a bitch a piece of his mind.

Five minutes later, Dieter swore at his publicist, telling him this should never have happened.

“Sam, I don’t give a fuck. I am paying you to stop this shit from happening. Really? Did you stop it? I don’t think you did because I’m looking at an article right now that is referring to my girlfriend as a fat cow.  You better hope she doesn’t read this. Yeah, or you’re fired.”

But as soon as he said it, he heard the ding of a message. His heart sank when he glanced at it, tuning out his publicist's apologizing momentarily and assuring him that everything was fine.  

I can’t come down next week for that event thing anymore. Some stuff, uh, some stuff came up.

Dieter quickly texted you back, hoping that the reason the plans had changed had nothing to do with what you had seen online. 

OK, that’s fine if you don’t want to. Can I ask why there was a sudden change of heart?

I just don’t think me being in a bikini, helping kids, is the best message you want to send people.

Fuck. You must have seen the article.

Baby, why wouldn’t it be the best image?

Come on, honey, talk to me. What’s bothering you?

Nothing is bothering me; it’s just I’m overweight, and I don’t think walking around with a one-piece swimsuit and asking people to help make donations for homeless children is proper.

Baby, how is it not proper? You love that kind of stuff.

It just isn’t okay.  Plus, no one wants to see a fat cow walk around in a bathing suit.  I mean, how can people even print that?  I know I’m a little overweight, but I’m not that much overweight, I think.

Fuck, you did read that article, and it broke his heart to know this.

Look, I just don’t want to do it, ok.

Plus, you could do so much better than me, anyway.

I mean, look at her; she’s beautiful and sexy. What am I?

I’m not attractive, that’s what.  Why did you even ask me out in the first place?

I know cause I was skinny.

Okay, maybe I'm not skinny, but I wasn’t fat.

Okay, yeah, I was fat, but.

One text after another kept coming in as you derailed your self-esteem because of two dumb photos of him kissing his co-star during the middle of a scene for shooting a movie.  

Sam was still talking on the phone, but Dieter was no longer paying attention. He was more concerned about what his pretty little girlfriend was thinking. Dieter was with you because you made him laugh, and you were the love of his life. He had to make this right for you.

“Sam, I’m going to stop you right there. I’ll make this simple for you. You’re fucking fired.”  Dieter then hung up the phone and immediately texted his agent, a woman that scared the living shit out of him because she never took any shit from anyone in the world. Dieter doesn’t remember what her real name is; he’s always called her Kat because she’d claw his eyes out more than once if she had the chance with all of the shit he used to pull before meeting you.

Kat, I fired Sam, he’s a fucking idiot anyways. Please tell me you can stop this fucking shitstorm online. 

For once, remember that I DID NOTHING to start this one.

Kat had gotten back to him almost immediately, helping in the best way that Kat knew how to, taking control of the situation.

Well, Dieter, that didn’t take you long, did it? Just for the record, I fired him this morning before you called him. You were right; he was an idiot. 

I’m already taking care of the shitstorm in the media; the director is fucking furious at the accusations that came forward and is setting the record straight.  I’ll also have the production company make an official statement.

What about the article that called her a fat cow, what about that?

Seriously? Did they- oh, for fucks sake, I’ll take care of it.  I know the editor. I’ll just call him up and threaten to beat the shit out of him for publishing something like that.

Really? You’re going to beat the shit out of someone that isn’t me? Wow, talk about going soft.

Oh, don’t start, Dieter. I can still kick your ass, too.  And I may do it yet today.

But don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, but you’ll have to do damage control on the backside.   

Me? How the hell am I supposed to do that?

It’s called doing damage control with your girlfriend, Dieter. 

I’m sorry for her. No woman or person deserves that horrible humiliation. Take care of her; she’s going to need some reassurance.

Dieter looked at Kat’s last message and couldn’t agree more.  But he didn’t know what he could do to help calm your nerves. As he sat there thinking, he devised an idea that he thought would work. It should take some heat off you and even the playing field.

Dieter pulled his phone out, clicked on the Instagram app, then hit the live button.

You had been drowning in your mind at all the negative comments about your weight, about how people couldn’t believe someone like Dieter would ever be with you, etc. You had spent all morning immersing yourself in these articles and comments, working yourself up into a horrible frenzy of anxiousness and despair.  

You were curled up on the couch, attempting to watch your favorite TV program, missing Dieter, when you heard the ding at the live notification of your Instagram.  The only person you followed like that was Dieter, so you were surprised that he was going live, especially on a day like today.  You quickly pulled out your phone and hit the notification so you could watch and see what was happening.  Dieter already had over 5,000 people watching. So you knew you could hide and not say anything just to see what was happening.

“Hi, it’s me, Dieter…right. Listen. I’m sorry, I’m trying not to care, but it’s hard. It’s hard to see negative comments about the person I love, people calling her unattractive because she doesn’t have a flat stomach like my co-star does.  But you know what, I don’t have a flat stomach either.”

Dieter then stood up, removed his T-shirt and sweatpants, and sat in his boxers, his belly slightly hanging over them.

“So, do you guys want to have sex with me like this?”

After Dieter watched the notifications in the chat coming in of Yes in one way or another, he knew he had the audience right where he wanted them.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, and wow. You guys are too nice saying I’m sexy.  Who knew that the belly was sexy, huh? But you know what, you all want to fuck me and the belly, but yet none of you can say one nice fucking thing to my pretty little girlfriend.  I’ve spent all morning reading everyone’s comments online, saying how she isn’t attractive because she has curves. Fuck. You know I love those curves; they feel so good. I love making love to the woman who has those sexy curves.  So, if I’m sexy with this belly, then she can be sexy with her curves too, you know.”

“I eat a KitKat every day, either from my mini bar or home. And then, in the morning, there’s always a new KitKat cause my girl knows I love them. And you know what, you don’t know me.  Nobody knows me, the real me, and that’s okay. But my girl, she does; she knows me for the real me, not the Hollywood me.  Like, after we have sex, I always ask her, ‘How do I know in the morning you’re not gonna sell the stuff I unloaded in you to the sperm bank?’ I think about stuff like that when I’m with her, and I tell her.”

“We also have conversations like what happens if your shit, like your literal shit, was alive. That scares me sometimes late at night, and I talk with my girlfriend about it. I go, ‘So, you know when I shit, I don’t watch myself shit. You should never watch yourself shit.  You should just wipe, flush, and then move on.’ We have conversations like that. And then when I have diarrhea and vomiting from food poisoning, I yell for her to hold my hair back because I don’t want the chance of getting vomit in my hair, even if it’s short.”

As you sat back, you watched your boyfriend talk crazy, like you do sometimes late at night. You knew that Dieter never said these things out loud except with you. You didn’t judge him, but the world isn’t always easy on everyone.

“Why do I say these crazy things? Well, if you’re going to judge the most beautiful woman in the world, and she IS the most beautiful woman to me, then you’ll see who I am without the mask of fame. She sees me for the real me and loves me for it. So, if you still love me and all of this crazy shit I do in life, then love her too, cause if you don’t, I won’t be making movies any longer.  I never want to read statements of me cheating on a woman that I’ve had to pinch myself every day in the balls to make sure that I’m not dreaming.  She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you guys can’t realize that, then I’m done making movies.  So yeah, goodbye, I guess, until you all fix this issue and stop shaming women or men who don’t fit a perfect image. And stop writing false stories, or this will be the last story you all write of me because I sure as hell won't keep fucking going if all I read are lies about me anymore. I love you all, but seriously, goodbye until you straighten out.”

You then heard him fart on camera and then ended the live right after that. You sat there with tears at how he publicly defended you, even though you never asked him to.  You quickly called him up to thank him.

“You know you didn’t have to say anything, D.”

“I know, but I did. I also thought that I saw you online watching.”  Dieter’s voice echoed like he was in a cave or a large room.

“Where are you? Your voice is echoing.”

“Bathroom,” was all he said, and then you heard it, a fart that echoed.

“Dieter, what-”

“Look, I haven’t taken my morning shit yet, babe.  I’ve had to deal with all this bullshit first, and I can’t hold it anymore, so yeah.”

“It's okay, D, you know I love you. Look, I'll let you go and-”

“No, babe, talk to me. I have nothing else I'm doing while sitting here. You feel a little better?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I mean, you didn't have to say those things about quitting and potentially fuck up your career.”

“Baby, I didn't fuck up my career. And even if I did, I don't care. I love you, and your happiness is just as important to me, if not more, than my career. I care about you, and I’m pissed off that people would say those horrible things about you, the most beautiful woman in my life. My pretty little girlfriend, I love you.”

The two of you talked for an hour until the production company called. They told Dieter that they were postponing shooting more scenes for a few more days until they could figure out the logistics of keeping privacy for more intimate shoots in the future. 

That was fine because it allowed Dieter to fly home to you for a few days. All was peaceful until Dieter got a message from the production company a few days later stating that scenes would begin shooting again next week. As Dieter was packing back up to leave, he received a message from his agent, Kat.

Dieter, you jackass, that’s not what I meant by damage control. You know what, fine, do it your way.  But don’t cry when the little stunt you pulled online results in you getting fired or not being offered any more movie roles.  

Dieter knew that Kat was blowing steam because he had received three tentative movie offers for comedic roles since his online speech.  When he asked Kat what she thought, she was honest with him.

Dieter, you know you can just go fuck yourself, right?

And for what it’s worth, I’m happy you made your girlfriend feel better. You really are a great guy.

To HER, that is.  Now start making my job a little easier, not harder, or so help me, God, I’ll rip your head clean off.  And I'm not talking about the one on the top of your neck. Lord knows you don't need that head anymore cause you don’t ever think with it. I'm talking about the other one.

Dieter laughed hard and knew Kat’s threats were just that, threats.  She has saved his ass more times than he cared to admit.  Yes, this stunt he pulled could have been a huge problem, but he didn’t care.  He’s weathered those harsh storms of his career in the past.  That’s why he paid Kat the big bucks, to help him get out of those shit storms.  But this stunt was for you, to get the negative attention off you. And to make you laugh more, which is what he did in the end.  The only thing that mattered to Dieter was that his pretty little girlfriend was safe, warm, and happy.  Everything in Hollywood was always so fake, except for you and the love that Dieter had for you, that wasn't fake. Dieter loved you more than anything: real, soulmate-type, passionate love. And to him, that was the only story ever worth writing about. 

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

Matty Healy Imagine

Summary: In which you "dated" Matty pre 75 fame (2011-2012) and bump into him seven years later (late 2019) never realising you meant more to Matty than you could ever imagine.

Warnings: Swearing. Vulgar language somewhere around the middle because there is a tiny section of smut my friends!

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this one. This was the 'Matty realising who his person is/in love with' piece that you all voted for next. Not entirely sure if it's any good to be honest but I hope you like it. A short blurb might be posted at a later date. Ross and George stuff coming up next! Enjoy! x

P.S If any of you can think of a 1975 song that we could use to title this bad boy I would be highly appreciative because currently I have nothing!

4.8K Words

When you met Matty Healy you were just shy of turning twenty one years old, you were still at uni and you were at a wedding of a friend of a friend that you only knew kind of through work and he was captivating from the off. He had a stunning set of curls and a cheeky charm about him, that had you knocking back whatever shots he was offering, laughing at all his stupid jokes (read chat up lines) and letting him feel you up as you danced until the early morning. You would have followed him into whatever trouble he got himself into without a single question asked.

He told you he was in a band with his mates from school to which you humoured him, nodding your head as you hummed in vague response. Of course he was, this was the noughties, every boy in your age range was or had been in a garage band doing covers of Blink 182 and hoping to make it big one day. What made Drive Like I Do or whatever weird name he told you any different from the rest of the kids?

Except they were different. They were fucking brilliant and when you found out they were from a small town in Cheshire not far from where you were from, you thought it might have been fate that you two would find each other.

You “dated” for roughly six months. You use the word loosely because looking back at that time in your life, it seemed like it was just a flurry of a lot of sex and a lot of fighting. Fighting about the states he would get in when he’d do drugs with his mates. Some of your most profound conversations were with him when he was high or you were both drunk out of your minds. But you probably fought more in those last two months than you did in the entirety of your next relationship. Which is a shame because you could have really loved him.

When the two of you finally admitted defeat and decided to go your separate ways. You didn’t hear from him or the boys again. Not that you ever expected to as he was busy becoming the front man in the biggest band in the world and you ended up moving to London for work and working up the ladder at your law firm and living with your boyfriend for the next seven years. You couldn’t escape him though, the band were the biggest thing to come out of the North since Arctic Monkeys and they were on every channel, every magazine, their music attached to every social media post.

Even though you weren’t on speaking terms with any of them because you had too much respect for Matty to make it weird. You knew George, Adam and Ross deserved the success they had achieved over the past seven years. Matty too, this was his dream and he was living it to the fullest.

You expected the success to find them. What you didn’t expect was to run into Adam and his girlfriend on your walk home from work one late October evening in 2019. He spotted you first, the two of you just standing in shock in front of one another for the first time in so long, in silence. His girlfriend highly confused as to what was happening until one of you finally spoke.

“Hi.” Adam immediately smiled sweetly at you before embracing you. “How are you doing Ads? Congratulations on everything! I knew you’d do it!”  You told him, your happiness genuine for him, he was one of the nicest people you had ever met.

“Thanks. Carls this is y/n an old friend of ours. Her and Matty dated what…” He paused a moment, whist trying to figure it out. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you? Seven years now?”

“Sounds about right!” You managed to chuckle. “I ehhh heard about what happened with him a couple of years ago. I wanted to reach out but didn’t know how or if it’d be weird or not?  Is he doing okay?”

“Better than ever.”  Adam smiled warmly at you at your concern.

“Will you pass on the message that I’m glad he’s well.”  You had started to ask but before either of you could say anything else. You heard the dulcet northern tones of a man that you shared your life with many moons ago, rupture through the evening air.

“Hann! What you doing mate? Who are you talking to…”

Words died on his tongue the moment he took in the sight of you in front of him for the first time since your last fight in the spring of 2012. Very rarely did Matty not know what to say. But there you were, his muse for some of his most beloved songs. As he lived and breathed, dressed in tight leather pants, a smart white blouse tucked in and stiletto heels that looked like they could kill him if he got in your way. Shock etched across your face but you looked more beautiful that Matty ever remembered.

“Hi” 

Your voice came out a little less confident than you anticipated and it made you want to shoot yourself in the foot but when Matty let out a breathy “Hi” like he was unsure of what to say it made you feel a little better. The pair of you continued to stare at one another, not completely sure how long neither of you weren’t saying anything but Adam coughed awkwardly and prompting you to look over in his direction.

“Well it was lovely to see you again.”  Adam leant down to press a deft kiss to your cheek before throwing a look over his shoulder at his best mate. “Hopefully it won’t be seven years next time.” He laughed, squeezing your arm gently as Carly sent you a soft smile and a wave as they both headed off in the opposite direction to you.

“You look good Healy.” 

You broke the silence, smiling at him sincerely as you took in how good he looked. He looked happy and healthy, had this glow about him and that’s all you ever wanted for him, was for him to be well. Matty grinned at your compliment before shaking his head, laughing as his curls fell in front of his eyes.

When he finally looked back up at you, you noticed the crinkle in the corner of his eyes were still prominent in his features when he laughed and this overwhelming feeling appeared heavy in your chest. A soft tingle rushed up your face, through your nose and prickling at your eyes. You didn’t want to cry but the softness of his face made the nostalgia wave over you so strongly that you didn’t know if you could keep composure for much longer if he didn’t say anything.

“Shit sweetheart! So do you! Sensational!”  

Matty’s words made you laugh, that feeling instantaneously washing away as you both laughed with each other for the first time again. Tentatively he took a step closer towards you. Opening his arms almost awkwardly gesturing for a hug as if he was unsure you would. You immediately stepping into his arms; his finding their way around your waist as yours naturally found theirs around his neck. 

His body felt warm against yours; hands pressed flat against your back, his curls tickling the side of his face as you curled up against his neck, squeezing him that little bit tighter as he attempted to step back and trapping him in your arms for a little longer. The smell of cigarette smoke and his signature aftershave the same after all this time, invaded your senses, making you relax into him. The pressure on your waist automatically tightened as he reciprocated your affection before you both finally took steps to move away from one another before it got awkward.

“It was really good to see you sweetheart.” Matty smiled; shoving his hands into his coat pockets. You noticed him shuffling his feet awkwardly, unsure of why he seemed nervous. It was just you. “But I’ve got to…”  He gestured in the direction Adam had left. “It’s a work thing. But I’ll message you.”

Nodding, you assumed after he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek and was jogging off after his band mate, that you probably wouldn’t hear from your rockstar again. But the notification from trumanblack not a hour later that just said ‘Call me x’ and his number had stupid butterflies swimming in your stomach that maybe if anything you’d be able to make things right with him, even if it just meant he was apart of your life.

That was eighteen months ago. It was now Spring of 2021 and I think it was fair to say you were fully submerged back into The 1975’s world. There were times when you could see the jealousy swimming through his brown eyes when you hung out with the other members of the band. Laughter echoing around whatever room you were in as your laugh intertwined with Ross’ infectious giggle.

Jealousy that this time around, your attention wasn’t solely focused on him. Which lets be honest a decade ago, the two of you were completely infatuated with one another. You were friendly with the boys but your entire world was Matty and Matty you. You can’t believe you missed out on this type of love that the boys were giving you. George was happy to have someone to entertain his horrendous dad jokes. Adam to have meaningful life talks with. Ross to go to when work was stressing you out, he always knew what to say to ease your mind. He had quickly become your best friend. All of them happy to have someone on their side to help wind Matty up!

You don’t even know what you and Matty were. Not long after you were reunited, the boys headed off on their American tour and you spent every night speaking to Matty over FaceTime once he got in from the gig. It was always middle of the night/early morning for you and after a certain amount of calls, you didn’t care what you looked like anymore.

Your conversations always ranged from what the tour was like, travelling, stupid things the boys had done whilst on the road to your work, missing him, him missing you, missing home and his mum and just wanting a good cup of tea. He of course was naughty as always and sometimes you found yourself wearing less and less just because you could and if he could tease so could you.

Yet once they returned home and they headed out on their UK tour, you found yourself working remotely and tagging along. This was everything you had dreamed of for him and it made your heart ache with so much joy you weren’t sure if it was pure happiness for them or you were slipping into the nostalgic feeling of being around him 24/7.

Then covid hit the world and you were forced apart again. You were currently living alone since your ex had moved out of your apartment six months prior but by some sort of miracle your neighbour one street over happened to be one Ross MacDonald. Him and his housemates so graciously offering you to move into their spare room for the next few months. Living with Ross felt like a better idea for your sanity than entertaining the idea of Matty if he had got in there before him, somehow you knew you had made the right decision.

Ross MacDonald was a fantastic housemate plus knowing it meant Ross had someone on his side when ganging up on Matty was worth it on its own. You lived for that shit! You and Ross also made a great team during your weekly zoom quizzes, having coming top of the leaderboard almost every time much to Matty’s dismay. Him proclaiming the two of you were clearly cheating on more than one occasion, which only made you laugh harder, the more he continued to rant. There is one thing you should know and that is Matthew Healy is a sore loser! This of course always goes down well with the rest of the band when he throws a strop like the man child that he is! 

Matty on the other hand wasn’t impressed by the speed in which your relationship with his bassist was forming. 

“You moved in quicker with Ross than you did me!”

“We never lived together Healy!”  You laughed at his pouting through the phone.

“Exactly!”

“To be fair mate. You were kind of a nightmare to live with back in the day!”  Ross’ voice could be heard from the other side of the living room.

“I don’t like that you two gang up on me!”

“Stop pouting at me!”  You laughed loudly at him, “To be fair to him, the rate in which we were going ten years ago. If we lived with each other. We would have killed each other and I’d hate to be the person to have deprived the world of your talent.”  You tried to soften the blow a little with a compliment.

“Yeah.” Matty sighed, before shooting you a soft smile. “Thanks sweetheart. Can’t wait to see you.”

The softness in his voice, made your heart burst and you hated how you knew how this was going to end up. “Me too babe. Me too.”

“Plus I need to make up for lost time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to accumulate the same amount of hours you’ve spent with Ross once we’re allowed out of the house.”

“You’re ridiculous. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told! But you love me anyway!”

“Sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night Healy!”

You laughed at the dramatic gasp of horror from the man on the opposite side of the phone. A roll of eyes definitely happened from both you and Ross who was drinking a cup of coffee on the other end of the couch.

That was a year ago. You were currently in the studio with him and George, just quietly watching them work. Adam and Ross long gone and happily tucked up in bed and you were currently falling asleep on the sofa and being held hostage by their lead singer. George threw you a sympathetic smile over his shoulder as you struggled to keep your eyes open, nudging his mate and gesturing towards your slumped frame.

Immediately standing up; Matty made his way over to you, kneeling down next to you and brushing your hair behind your ear so softly. That if you were actually awake, you would have leaned into his touch but you were completely wiped out. “Lets get you home sweetheart.” His voice soft as he pulled you up and he dragged you gently out of the studio and into his car, George’s goodbye muffled by your sleepy brain as he headed towards his own car further down the street.

Matty drove to his, your shit already there and tucked by the side of the bed in his spare room, despite the fact the past two days you had fallen asleep curled up next to him as you watched documentaries in bed together. You still don’t know what you were because friends don’t continue to sleep in the same bed with one another and not go any further than that. Scientifically impossible especially with the history the two of you had, a tension of the sexual kind always tethering the two of you together, no matter who was around, you always toed that line. 

That was all about to change.

When you woke up the next morning, Matty’s face in your neck, hands up the t-shirt you were wearing for bed, body wrapped around you as he spooned you from behind. The kiss he pressed to the back of your neck before moving away was enough to stir you from your sleep to search for him again in the sheets. Rolling over; you slotted into his side seamlessly, foot automatically intruding between his legs as your leg draped over the top of his waist.

“Don’t want to go to work. Tell the boys you’re not well. I’ll ring in sick.”  

You mumbled into his neck. His skin vibrated against your lips, his chuckles dying quickly in his throat as you pressed kisses to the upside of his jaw. Leaning down slowly he caught your lips between his own, neither of you bothered by whatever morning breath you may have, having seen each other in worse states than this. 

Matty’s hands moved from your face, dancing down your body as you tugged at his curls. Hands grabbing at the globes of your ass roughly as you kissed lazily in the morning light that was seeping through the curtains. Time was not a concept for either of you as you made out like a pair of love struck teenagers. You had gone nine years without him and now you didn’t want to let him go now you had leapt over that line.

A particular tug of his curls had him moaning into your mouth as he squeezed you against him, your ass firmly between his hands as you straddled him. “Babe gonna have to piss. Sorry.”  He mumbled against your lips, before wiggling out from beneath you. The both of you yawning as you both stretched properly for the first time that morning. “Maybe coffee too. Shit I’m tired as balls. Come on sweetheart.” He held out his hand for you take, finally leaving the confines of his bedroom.

Coffee brewed, breakfast eaten and teeth brushed. You and Matty happily trudged back to his bed after you called in sick to work and Matty text George some bullshit excuse as to why he wasn’t going to the studio today. The pair of you continuing to make out like horny teenagers until your lips were swollen and you were desperate to be under him and your wish was about to come true.

The hum of contentment left your mouth as Matty’s hands bunched up his shirt you had slept in the night before, soft kisses making their way down your stomach until he reached the top of your lacy knickers. Thank fuck for always thinking a head, you’d pat yourself on the back later for that one. Matty continued to press kisses to both of your hips before continuing his assault everywhere but where you wanted him to.

Looking down at him, Matty leant against the inside of your thigh, his eyes swimming with permission and when he looked like that between your legs, you’d happily give him anything he wanted. “Please.” You managed to whimper as his fingers tucked underneath the lace and dragging them down your legs quicker than you anticipated.

Matty held your legs apart as he looked up at you, hearts appearing in his eyes as he looked up at your heaving chest before delving in. Fingers wrapping around his curls, you couldn’t help but tighten your grip as his tongue swept through your folds to lick at your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Your back arching into his touch as he devoured you,  the pornographic moans you let out as he lapped up your mess enough to make him cum in his pants like a teenager.

“Fuck how have you got better at this?” You moaned; throwing your head back into the pillow as you groaned at his ministrations as he mouthed at your pussy. “Jesus fuck! That’s good!”

“Loads of practice.” He hummed against you, a soft kiss to your inner thigh before running his tongue over you again, before pressing his middle and index fingers into you too and pressing against that spot he loved so much.

“Don’t want to hear about other girls Healy.” You huffed, just as he sucked your clit into his mouth again, causing you to groan loudly. “Fuck going to cum.”

The grip you had on Matty’s hair was impossibly tight, the feeling of your nails indenting into the palm of your hand proof of that as your legs started to shake either side of his head. Matty doubled down on his efforts as you started to tingle all over, his fingers rapidly moving in you had the brunette holding your hips down as you started to gyrate against his mouth in a hurried effort to cum for him.

When you finally did, it felt like you were cumming forever. Your legs still shaking as Matty slowly made his way up towards your face, pressing kisses in the wake of his path before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. The taste of yourself now on your tongue making you hum as you pulled him closer.

“Could fucking stay between your legs forever baby.”

“I’d let you. That was fucking good Healy.”

“Hmmm.” Matty hummed into your neck, as he pressed delicate kisses to your skin as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Ringing in sick, best idea ever.”

After that; you too couldn’t keep your hands off you. You had opened the floodgates and you were never not having sex of some sorts. It was constant which was saying something because when you were both in your early twenties the two of you were at it like rabbits! 

Now that the two of you seemed to have established that you wanted to be with each other, life seemed to fall into place so easily. You went to work during the day, working with high end clients in the law firm you worked at and being a bad ass bitch by day and went home and fucked your sexy, talented ass man when you got home and hung out with the other boys in the studio at the weekend/days off. You couldn’t complain really and neither could they when apparently Matty was tuning out material so good, that George claimed that he was just playing him a song that was an old classic and not something new.

You had already become a constant within the boys’ lives at this point but it was when you were chilling in the studio, draped across the sofa and atop of both Ross and George as Matty faffed about at the sound board with one of their sound technicians that you realised you were all way too comfortable around each other.

The sound technician had been out of the room all of two seconds before he was sending you a suggestive look from the spinning chair he was currently occupying. His eyes drifted from you to his crotch and back again, raising an eyebrow to challenge you. But you weren’t playing these games today. You knew you were falling for him, 99% sure you already had and there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for the stupid fucker. But you wouldn’t play these games in front of the lads.

“No.” You tilted your head up from where it was leaning against George’s leg, to shoot your boyfriend a look.

“Why not?”

“Babe I’m not sucking your dick when the boys are here. Don’t be gross!” 

“Baaabe” He whined dramatically at you.

“Yeah. I object to that sort of behaviour.” Ross piped up from the other end of the sofa with a chuckle.

“I love you both but I don’t want to see your dick mate.” Adam looked up from his guitar in the corner.

“Agreed, we put up with a lot of shit but do I want to see your dick in our sweet innocent friend’s mouth. No.” George joked from above you. You pinched his thigh much to his annoyance, hitting you with his flailing arms in reflex to your assault.

“Your dick is practically in her mouth now. Shut up! Come on baby, let’s quickly sneak out.”

Your boyfriend’s unfiltered mouth, seemed to think he was funny. But his joke didn’t settle with any of you the way he thought it would. Especially you and George and it was the first time you made an effort to sit up and move away from the friendly giant you called your mate. As the awkwardness settled between the five of you, you quickly dropped your legs from Ross’ lap too and sat up. 

The atmosphere in the room had quickly shifted and you made an excuse to make a “work call” and left the room.

That was the first disagreement you had with Matty since you had gotten back together. You were up for a dick joke as much as the next lass but making you the butt of the joke like you were some type of slut was where you drew the line. 

Although to give Matty’s his dues, he let you talk it out with him after giving you the space you needed. He apologised immediately and promised he’d not slut you up in front of the boys again. Which if it had happened ten years ago, you would have screamed about him being “such a boy” and how he would have screamed about “how you just don’t get his humour and to get over yourself.”

“I’m sorry baby. I forget I don’t have a filter sometimes. Won’t happen again.”  He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, hands draped around your waist. “I’ve never been this happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been and it’s all because of you sweetheart. Don’t want to mess this up.”

“I know baby.”  You kissed him back harder than before, twirling his curls around his fingers before pecking your lips against his over and over again, just wanting to be close to him. If you could see yourselves, you’d hate the two of you. “You won’t, I know you won't.” You whispered against the side if his neck, as you mouthed at his jaw and pulling a groan from him as you pressed just underneath his ear.

“I fucking love you sweetheart.”

You felt like your heart stopped as his words entered your ears, his forehead resting against yours as he pressed you up against the wall.

“Yeah?”  Matty nodded. “I fucking love you too Healy!”  You grinned.

Matty pressed you further into the wall, kissing you so deeply you thought you’d go through it. The moan you tried to suppress as you felt his thigh press between your own echoed through the corridor in the studio and it was only when you realised where you were, your mates just on other side of the wall. Had you pulling aways as sense invaded your brain.

“I love you but not here. When we’re home.”  You laughed at his pout.

“Only because I love you so much. Don’t think I ever really stopped to be honest.” 

Matty had the nerve to look demure as he said it but the giddiness as he bounced on the balls of his feet, you knew he was anything but as he looked like he was ready to burst. You rolled your eyes as you know what he wanted but you sent him a soft smile all the same. God you were down bad for the silly fucker!

“You can tell the boys! Go!” You shoved him playfully. Your laugh reverberated around the hall as he pressed a kiss to your mouth once more before running back towards the room you had both disappeared from. “She fucking loves me mate!”  You heard him shout as he burst through the studio door.

Not far behind him, you stopped to lean against the door frame as he bounced around the room. The boys patting him on the back with smiles equally as big as they voiced their congratulations. 

“We know!”  Ross cackled, rolling his eyes when he spotted you.

“Fuck knows why! You’re a pain the arse!” George smirked, pulling his best mate into a tight hug.

“I’m happy for you both.”  Adam spoke from his corner, a bright smile on his face as he nodded at you in the doorway. Adam had this all knowing look on his face, having been there the moment you reunited. You think he always knew deep down, this was where it was heading. You both loved hard and fast, he saw it first hand ten years ago and had seen how happy his best mate had been just by having you in his life again. He knew there was no way you weren’t going to realise that the two of you were meant to be.

Your boy turned to look at you. Leant against the doorframe, arms folded across your chest and the softest look on your face as you watched his energy bounce off everything he touched, it was so infectious that you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gloss over. The overwhelming feeling of love hitting you square in the chest as the four of them teased one another. Teased Matty for being soft. You caught each others eyes, Matty beaming as he took you in.

A chance meeting at a wedding ten years ago. A fleeting love affair. Nine years apart. 

A chance reunion between an international rockstar and the one who got away.

Yeah you were fucking so down for this man.

He was your person.

[brewsterispunkk]

sunshine state

PART 8: CRY TO ME

pairing: benny miller x f!reader

WC: 6k

summary: an unexpected call sends honey back home. she doesn’t go alone.

warnings: grief, death of a loved one, referenced smut, these idiots can’t communicate, so much angst, fluff, toxic family dynamic

A/N: this was co-written with @jc-writes-bullshit who helped pull me from my writersblock!!! also, my semester is finally over! I’m hoping to finish sunshine state before the new year now that I have more time on my hands. we shall see. ALSO: i recently started an aemond targaryen x oc fic on ao3 if anyone wants to check it out! my username is the same there as it is here !

PS: this chapter is named after the song cry to me by solomon burke. BUT there is another benny miller one shot called Cry To Me by @carni-val ! I want to put a disclaimer that this chapter is in no way based off of or plagiarizing their art! the only similarity is the title! However, I would recommend their fic. It’s a must-read to any and all benny miller fans !

PART 8: CRY TO ME

You weren’t there when Benny woke up.

He inhaled suddenly, snapping awake at the lack of your presence in his bed.

His bed.

His heart stuttered, recalling the events of the night before as if they were a dream.

He sighed, eyes fluttering shut again. As he nosed his pillow, he noticed he could still smell your perfume on his sheets. His stomach thrilled, and for a moment all he felt was contentment.

After months and months of you haunting his dreams, flitting through his life and turning it upside down like a tornado, he couldn’t believe that he actually got to have this.

He felt his stomach flutter at the memory of what had passed the night before. Your hands in his hair, your legs around his waist, the way your breath shallowed when he touched you. How you’d felt around him. It had never been like that with anyone else before.

Benny had never been one for casual sex, save for a few stints in his younger years. Still, he was far from inexperienced when it came to sex. He’d had plenty of girlfriends throughout the years, and plenty of sex besides. But now, when he tried to recount them, all he could see was your face. The very idea of sex with someone else made him cringe. One night with you had ruined him for anyone else, forever.

His house was uncharacteristically quiet for a morning that you were there. Usually, he would be woken up to the sound of you bustling about the kitchen or living room, rooting through his fridge for something edible or fiddling with his coffee maker. Now though, it was just silent.

Suddenly, Benny started. Where had you gone?

He couldn’t see you fleeing before he woke up, leaving him like this was some one night stand. That was, unless…

Unless you regretted it.

His stomach dropped at the thought. That was the worst case scenario.

He’d hoped that once you’d woken up, the two of you could talk about what happened. The two of you hadn’t discussed what exactly this was last night—you hadn’t quite gotten there before you’d jumped his bones. Benny had no idea where you were at.

As far as he was concerned, you were convinced that this had just been a favor for a friend, a casual thing. Nothing serious. The very thought of that made Benny scoff. You were the most serious thing in his life. He just hoped he hadn’t fucked it up.

He looked around for his phone— he hardly ever slept without it. He’d spent so much time with some of the guys in his squad that now going a night without his phone, a night with the possibility of missing one of them if they needed him, was a foreign concept.

But, he wouldn’t have slept with his phone last night. He’d been too busy with … other things.

Benny swore under his breath. He reached around for shorts, a pair of boxers, anything-- and when he’d finally found a pair of sweatpants he tugged them on and trudged out to his living room, his stomach turning as he tried to plan what he could possibly say that would remedy this, or fix your now doomed-to-fail friendship, or bring you back.

- - - -

His dog tags were the first thing you’d seen that morning when you woke up.

A stream of pleasant memories flooded your mind; Benny’s hands on your hips, the softness of his lips. The feeling of him inside of you, filling you up. You’d been like puzzle pieces instead of ships passing in the night and for once, anxiety wasn’t the first thing you felt when you woke up. It was the sturdiness of Benny’s chest beneath your fingertips, then the chill of the silver chain around his neck under your palm. And when you lifted your eyes, you found your nose just inches from his, those sea-glass eyes of his still concealed behind closed lids and long blonde eyelashes that curled up at the ends in a way that would’ve made any girl envy him.

And then, as you shifted but only slightly to improve your comfort - soreness between your legs.

You grunted, regretfully leaving Benny’s grasp to sit up. You knew sex would have discomfort the first time around. You had been right.

You swore under your breath as you pressed your feet against the floor and began to collect your clothes, pulling on your abandoned underwear and - now with an unfamiliar light filling your chest - Benny’s discarded t-shirt. You padded down the short hallway to his bathroom, imagining he’d have tylenol in his medicine cabinet. It seemed unlikely to you that someone who had been in the MMA circuit as long as him wouldn’t have some over the counter pain reliever. Honestly, the probability of him having something stronger was just as likely. Once again, you’d been right. You downed two aspirin tablets and then set off to find your phone. It was the first thing you checked every morning.

You found it tucked down in between Benny’s couch cushions. It dangled between your fingers as you sauntered to Benny’s kitchen to make yourself some coffee.

As you popped the capsule into his Keurig, you finally checked your home screen.

Something had happened.

That was all you could think as a heavy cloud settled over your cheery mood. Four missed calls from your mom. Two from your brother, though why he would be calling you at all was a mystery. One from your dad. Almost a hundred missed texts from your parents and your grandmother and a brood of cousins you saw twice a year at best.

Your heart raced as you unlocked your phone. You played a voicemail from your father first, hoping that would give you some insight.

His voice was gruff and uneven.

“Hey, sis.” He said, and when his voice cracked something in you split open. This was very bad.

“Uh … we tried to reach you last night, but you must’ve been asleep. It’s your - it’s your Papa. He’s … he’s passed away.”

And just like that - in a split second - the world stopped. The light seeped from the room.

Your papa had always been special to you. He wasn’t like your mother’s father, who had been old from the time you had memories of him. No, Papa and your grandmother had had your dad young. Your parents had you young. Papa had run and played with you from the time you could walk. He taught you about constellations. He taught you how to change your oil and had taught you the names of parts of an engine and he had shown you the perfect way to trim the leaves of a tomato plant. Every year at Christmas, he gave you a record from his collection, usually John Denver or Neil Diamond or the Monkees.

And there had been so many close calls with him. He was sick with different kinds of cancer on and off but never let it dampen his spirit. There had been so many close calls - including an incredibly stupid incident where he’d accidentally given himself blood poisoning with Raid for cockroaches - but nothing had ever taken. Nothing could take out Papa. He was the strongest person you’d ever known.

“It was peaceful.” Your father continued. “He was just so out of it … I don’t think he really knew what was happening. I know that doesn’t make it better for us, but …” His voice cracked again, and this time, you could tell he was crying. “Call me when you get this. We should talk. I love you, baby.”

And click. The call was over.

You listened to it again. And again. And every time, you waited to hear something resembling laughter in the background; some show, some ha! Gotcha!

But none ever came.

The world, suddenly, felt very small.

You should’ve called more. You should never have left home. You should’ve been there.

As you sank to the floor, your back to the cabinet, you wondered how anyone could possibly be as selfish and as careless as you.

- - - -

Benny was at your side.

You never would’ve noticed if he hadn’t wrapped his arms around you. Even the words tumbling from his lips—“I’m sorry” and “we can just forget, we can forget it ever happened” - wouldn’t have been strong enough to pull you from inside of your own head if you hadn’t felt the safety of his touch.

You looked up at him and found he was little more than a blur in the moment. You hadn’t found it in yourself to cry - but you would, surely, at a later date when it somehow set in - but your whole world was turning around you. Plane tickets, rental cars, buying something black (you’d ditched all of your black clothes after a week in the Florida heat), orchestrating housing for a long weekend, family reunions, a plane ticket home, missing work … it was all too much, all at once. So you held onto Benny, his pine scented body wash still clinging loosely to him and drowning all of your big feelings momentarily in an imaginary sea of green. You pushed your nose into his neck and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Honey?” Benny brought his palm to rest at the back of your head. “Are you feeling okay?”

The stinging began behind your eyes, becoming a prickle. You felt your face growing hot but decided it didn’t matter. It was too much.

“He’s dead, Benny.” You whimpered. “My papa. He’s dead.”

Benny’s grip on you tightened. He knew how much your grandfather had meant to you; God knows you’d discussed him enough times as you compared your unruly mud-pie and Sunday fishing filled childhoods.

“Fuck, honey. I’m - I’m so sorry.”

Benny didn’t feel the need to fill the air with words like you did. Everything about him was comfort, was stability; perfect just as it was.

“I have to - I have to go home.” You leaned back against the cupboard, and for the moment, Benny released you.

He sat back, his arms roping around his knees. Like a little kid trying to sit still.

“For the funeral, and all. You know.” You pressed the heels of you hands into your eyes. “Fuck, I gotta find a sitter for Salem, and - I have to book a ticket home. I mean, I could take my car, but that thing is, just - a fucking massive hunk of crap-“

“You’re not taking your car.” Benny said with finality.

“How the hell else am I supposed to get there?” You snapped.

“We’ll drive.” Benny said.

We’ll drive.

“Benny-“

“You’re not going alone.” He told you. “The plane tickets are gonna cost you an arm and a leg. And you can’t take your car. And … you shouldn’t be by yourself.”

You considered it for a moment; having Benny around made you better. He was honest about who he was from the first word he spoke to you. He was funny, and joyful, and he somehow always knew the right thing to say. And the thought of facing your family without him felt like trying to keep yourself from getting swallowed by a black hole.

But, still. You were who you were.

“You don’t have to–”

“I know.” Benny reached for your hand. As it enveloped yours, you allowed yourself to look at him for the first time. Those big, sweet bambi eyes of his - giving away every little feeling - were like lakes all of a sudden. Like you could drown in them.

“I don’t even have to meet your family, if you don’t want to. I’ll - stay across town, or find a Super 8 or something–”

“Don’t be stupid.” You said, and it came out a little sharper than you meant it to. You squeezed Benny’s hand. “Of course you’ll meet them. You’re my best friend, Benny.”

Part of you reeled inside. Best friend.

Best friends who fuck sometimes, your mind corrected, and you cringed.

Right. You two had had sex. Insane, charged, mindblowing sex, and you still didn’t know what that exactly meant for your relationship. In all honesty, you were too scared to ask. You knew that he had been doing you a favor.

“I could do it,” he’d said. It was just a task; a friend helping another friend out.

But still, part of you hoped, wished. Now that you’d gotten a piece of what it was like to be with him, you didn’t know how to go back. You thought you’d combust or explode or die if you had to forget about it and move on. You’d been lying to yourself when you said that you would be able to move on if you could have him at least once. There was no moving on from Benny Miller.

But you didn’t have time to think about how awful you may have fucked this up. Your family needed you. You needed your family.

You felt your chest clench at the idea of going home and your papa not being there. There had been no warning, no preparation. You weren’t even able to say goodbye, he was just gone.

What had been the last thing you said to him? The last full conversation? The last time you’d helped him cook? Watched a show with him. You couldn’t remember. How could you not remember?

Your bottom lip trembled and somewhere in the peripheral of your hearing, you heard someone whimper. It wasn’t until you felt Benny’s hands on your face that you realized it was you.

He titled your head up toward him, and for the first time you realized that he was kneeling on his kitchen floor with you. His green-blue eyes gazed into yours and instead of finding pity or disgust or awkwardness, you found tenderness.

The thought caused a sob to wrack your shoulders, and you broke, folding in on yourself.

“Hey, hey.” Benny cooed, hauling your trembling form into his arms. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

You dug your face into his shoulder and one of his hands snaked into your hair, massaging your scalp. He held you while you wept.

“I’m sorry,” you huffed pathetically, holding onto his shoulders.

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he whispered into your hair. “Let it out, honey.”

You clung to him, and you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that.

Eventually, your tears calmed into sniffles and Benny’s hand was still moving up and down your back.

You pulled back, wiping the moisture left around your eyes. Benny’s arms fell to your arms, and one of his hands moved to tuck an errant curl behind your ear.

“God,” you croaked, eyes bleary. “This is just a mess. I’m so sorry, Benny.”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” he said softly, thumb moving up and down your forearm.

“No, Ben. After last night—”

“Don’t.” His voice was soft but firm. Your eyes filled with tears again.

God, you’d ruined this, hadn’t you?

“No, please, I don’t want you to think–”

You were cut off by his lips on yours, and it was enough to send your stomach fluttering.

It wasn’t a passionate, desperate kiss like the ones you’d shared the night before. No, this kiss was chaste, but just as steadfast. It was closed-lipped, but firm, and achingly slow. It felt like a goodbye.

“Baby,” he breathed, and when you looked into his eyes, they were soft. “It’s okay. I know.”

The resigned look in his eyes made your heart stop.

Oh, you thought. He thought you were going to ask him to forget it.

He kissed your forehead and you just sat there, at a loss.

What were you even going to say to him?

“Hey, I know you just did me a huge favor, but I'm actually in love with you and never want to be with anyone else for the rest of my life?” Or, “hey, I’m in love with you and I think I have been for months, thanks for the sex by the way!”?

No. The truth was, you had no idea what you’d been about to say, or where you’d even begin to describe where you were at. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to. Besides, there were more pressing things that occupied your mind at the moment.

Your grandfather.

The thought hit you like a truck, stealing the breath from your chest.

Benny pulled back from your forehead, the usual easy look in his eyes. He looked exactly as he always did, proving to you that whatever happened last night couldn’t have been as big a deal to him as it was to you. Your chest panged at that notion.

“How soon do you need to get back home?” He gently asked.

You blinked.

“The funeral is in four days,” you said, sniffling. “I should get back as soon as I can, though. God, my dad’s gotta be an absolute wreck.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call the gym, and we can leave first thing in the morning. Sooner, if you want.”

“And I need to call Santi to see if he can watch Salem,” you added. “I’ll let my mom know we’ll be up soon. Both of us.”

You said the last part pointedly, raising your eyebrows at him. He chuckled. You still couldn’t believe that he’d thought you were going to make him stay across town. As if.

“Let me handle Santi,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to you from where you were on the floor. You sighed and let him pull you off the tile by the arm.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I can handle it. You’re already coming with me—”

“Honey,” he cut you off so softly that it made your heart yearn. Even when interrupting you, he was kind. “I’ve got it. You call your mom.”

“Okay,” you breathed.

He smiled at you and tapped your chin, before turning on his heel and walking back to his bedroom. As his footsteps faded, you heard his voice on the phone, no doubt talking to work.

You dialed your mom’s number, and as the phone rang, you truly felt as though your world was caving around you. Still though, the one constant thing was that Benny was next to you.

- - - -

The road was somehow lonelier than you remembered, if that was possible.

The only consolidation was the fact that Benny was humming quietly beside you, laser focused on the road while you looked onto the cornfields absently.

You silently thanked that he didn’t ask you if you were okay. One look at you could answer that question, but still. You thought that if anyone asked you that, you’d break down again.

He reached for the volume on the radio as the song reached its bridge, and his humming turned into full-blown song. You had barely realized the radio before then, being so caught up in your own grief-addled mind to be fully present. You snorted at the song choice once you recognized it.

“You will never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you!” Benny sang the chorus of Fleetwood Mac’s Silver Springs dramatically.

He turned to you when he saw you laughing.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just didn’t think they were your thing.”

“Hmm,” he hummed before glancing at you. “They’re not really, but they’re yours.”

It touched somewhere in you that he had thought to put your favorite artist on, even though he was the one behind the wheel, and it was his car. You felt your eyes mist up for what must have been the fifth time that day.

“Besides, maybe they’ve grown on me,” he added as an afterthought, eyes on the road.

You blinked the tears away.

“Told you so,” you muttered.

The past 24 hours had been a whirlwind.

It included packing for yours and Benny’s week-long stay at your parents’ house, calling off of work (something that shouldn't have been nearly as hard as it was), and convincing Santi and Everett to stay at your place for a week to watch Salem.

Initially when Benny had called Santi up with the proposition, he’d been vehemently against it. Benny hadn’t even been able to get out the reason why the two of you had to leave town before he refused. Apparently, Santi “didn’t do,” cats. Which proved to be a problem, as Frankie and Mari still had a newborn, and Will was still radio-silent after his and Benny’s fight. Once Santi figured out why you were leaving town though, he caved (with some convincing from Everett).

Now, as you and Benny made your way through the Appalachian mountains on your way to your midwestern hometown, what you worried about was your family.

More specifically, how your family would handle your bringing home a man who wasn’t your significant other.

You already knew that your aunts would love him; A handsome, tall, former military man like Benny? You’d’ve been surprised if your Aunt Jeanette didn’t propose to him herself. Your father would be fine, at least you didn’t have to worry about that part. He already knew about Benny and how he’d been your best friend for the better part of a year. You were closest with your father by far.

No, it was your mother and your brother that you worried about.

Your mother would be ambivalent at best and aggressive at worst toward him, all under the guise of protectiveness. Your brother would treat Benny’s very presence there as some sort of pissing competition if precedent was any indicator.

Once, when you were in your freshman year of college, you’d gone out with a marine for a few months. It had been a bad relationship, and he had been a bad guy, but still, he’d met your family once and when he did, your brother was on his very worst behavior. It was because he felt threatened, you knew, but still. You weren’t looking for a repeat of history.

“I can hear you overthinking over there,” Benny’s voice tore you from your worries.

“Sorry.”

“What is it?”

“My family,” you sighed, squeezing your eyes together. “I’m just imagining how uncomfortable this is going to be for you.”

“Please,” he laughed out, reaching over to squeeze your knee. “I did seven years in the army. I think I can handle your crazy family for five days.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. The drama, and all the questions we’ll get.”

“Honey, it’ll be fine.”

“I really wish it was that easy to get out of my head Benny, I do,” you said.

“Okay,” he offered. “Okay. Run me through your worst case scenario, then.”

“You realize it’s not worth it, and you never talk to me again.”

“Jesus, honey.” He scoffed. “You’re so dramatic. As if you could scare me off. You’re stuck with me now, or haven’t you figured that out?”

You half laughed at him supposing he was right. You were well past that.

“Tell me what to expect, then,” he said.

You sighed. That was better. You could do that.

“My aunts are gonna love you,” you began.

“Well that’s good to hear.”

“You didn’t let me finish. They’re gonna love you a little too much. Seriously, you’re like their wet dream.”

He threw his head back and laughed at that.

“I’m having a hard time seeing the problem with this.”

“Ha ha.” you said sarcastically. “Anyway, if they make you uncomfortable just tell me. My dad will be fine, he already knows about you. My uncles are fine, my cousin’s boyfriend is a dick, other than that, it’s just my mom and brother I’m worried about.”

“And why is that?”

“My mom is,” you paused. “Complicated. I genuinely don’t know how she’ll react. I already told her you were coming, but still. She’s a wild card.”

“Okay. What about your brother? Scared he’s gonna beat me up?”

You actually laughed at that, unable to hold it back. The very idea was hilarious. No, Benny could take your brother in a fight any day. It was the potential for drama that your brother held that made you nervous.

“No,” you finally said, voice still holding humor. “No, you could take him. It’s more that he likes to stir the pot. Any chance to embarrass me or cause problems, he’ll take it. I just don’t want him to involve you in the insane power trips he goes on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I promise to be on my best behavior.” He offered.

That meant a lot to you. Benny was a hothead, that was no secret to either of you. It was something that made him such a good fighter. The fact that he was even willing to put up with someone intentionally trying to rile him up meant the world.

“I appreciate it, Ben, but that shouldn’t be your job.”

“Honey–”

“It’s not fair that you have to put up with it–”

“Honey,” you stopped at the urgency in his voice. It was the tone he used when you were rambling. You took a deep breath and met his eyes.

“It’s not your responsibility either.” He said evenly, looking at you. You took another breath.

“You’re right,” you nodded. “I just really appreciate that you’re even doing this for me. It feels like adding this to the mix is too much.”

“I’ll be the judge of what’s too much, honey,” he placated. “Let me help you with this. I’m here because I want to be, not because I feel like it’s a chore or because of pity, okay?”

You stayed silent, looking out the window at the rural landscape. Anything to not meet his eye. All of a sudden you felt embarrassed, like your biggest fear was just exposed for the world to see, because in reality it was. Benny had just seen through all the bullshit you put up about independence and not caring and thrown it to the wind. And now you were left with the truth; with the bare-bones reality that you needed him.

“Okay?” He asked again.

“Okay,” you caved.

You supposed you would need at least one ally if you were going to get through this week. It might as well be Benny. The truth was, no matter how much it scared the shit out of you, he was the one person you could always trust to have your back.

- - - -

You’d forgotten how much you missed the noise.

The quiet that Florida offered was nice, and it was welcome when you had it, but this. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

It was familiar in a way that made you ache and laugh at the same time. It was all that once had trapped you, and it was all that was now welcoming you back. It was the same and it was not.

Standing in your parents’ kitchen, you watched as your little cousins chased each other down to the basement for a game of hide-and-seek, nearly tripping your uncle as they raced past him. They were too young to fully grasp what was going on, why everyone was sad and grieving. You envied them for it.

In the other room, you could hear your dad and uncles talking about the economy again, while your mother and aunts prattled on about some other cousin or relative’s divorce. Your grandmother was sat quietly in the corner, and the seat next to her was occupied by Benny, who looked to be schmoozing the hell out of her.

It brought a smile to your face.

At the kitchen table were your other cousins–the ones you’d grown up with whose own children now wreaked havoc downstairs. They all seemed more somber than the rest, as if the others were just trying to continue as normal, but they were the ones who truly understood how strange this all was.

It was the same and it was different.

This was the same scene that you had lived out a million times throughout your childhood; a crowded, noisy house, your cousins running about causing mischief, too much food to go around, and laughter ringing from the rafters. Only now, it just seemed…off.

You were no longer a child, and the cousins you’d grown up with now had children of their own. Your mother and aunts and uncles were older too. And there were empty spaces. Your papa’s space was empty.

You shook your head to stop that train of thought. There would be plenty of time for tears at the funeral, and you’d been gone too long to be considered normal. You couldn’t leave Benny to fend for himself for too long either. Your grandmother was harmless enough, but it was only so long until some other member of your family decided to sink in their claws.

You skirted your way through your parents’ crowded living room, dodging a kid here and a cat there, before finally making it back to your seat beside Benny.

“Coffee?” You offered, handing him a mug made the way he liked it.

“Thanks, honey.” He patted your knee, taking a long sip of the hot liquid.

You sipped your own.

When your grandmother turned to converse with one of your aunts, Benny turned to you.

“So,” he began. “Don’t hate me, but there are at least twenty people in this room and I can barely remember the names of half of them.”

You laughed.

“That’s okay. If it makes it easier to remember, my mom and aunts’ names all start with J. It’s Jeannette, Joyce, Julie, and Jackie.”

“Huh,” he cocked a brow. “That would be great if they didn’t look so damn similar.”

“I know,” you shrugged.

It was true; your mother and her sisters all resembled each other. You took more after your father, though.

“Don’t worry about it,” you finally added, turning toward Benny. “All you need to know is that my mom is Jackie. Don’t call her that, though, unless she tells you to.”

“Got it.” He nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

The first meeting with your mother had gone surprisingly well. Better than what you’d expected. It was by no means touchy-feely, but it was cordial. Kind, even, if you could believe it.

She’d seemed suspicious when you’d told her vehemently that you were just friends, and that the trundle in the basement would be fine for Benny. But, she also had expressed her gratitude to him for getting you home safely and for being such a support to you since you’d moved to Florida.

It was an olive branch if you’d ever seen one.

So, it was now your brother that you had to worry about.

He’d had yet to make an appearance. Apparently, he was tied up on the base until tomorrow morning, so he would be flying out and arriving after that, tomorrow evening. That gave you some time to get acclimated to being back, yes, but also time to worry about having him and Benny beneath the same roof.

Your brother was a dick, but he was also your brother, which meant that he knew exactly how to hit you where it hurt. It’s a skill all siblings have. You’d seen Will hit Benny below the belt before, and vice versa. And you were completely prepared to take whatever blows your brother dealt in the coming week. It was the fact that you knew he would single out Benny that made you nervous.

You looked over at Benny beside you, and saw that his eyebrows were still drawn together in thought. You grappled with the urge to smooth out the wrinkle that formed between them.

“I can hear you overthinking over there.” You repeated his words from earlier.

“Hm,” he chuckled, turning to you. “Just trying to figure out how to make sure your mom doesn’t hate me.”

“What?” you laughed, not expecting that.

“She’s scary,” he laughed along with you. You could only nod.

“She scares everyone. You’d know if she hated you, I promise.”

He hummed, and before you could stop yourself, you continued.

“Besides, I don’t think anyone could hate you, Ben.”

You held your breath once the words were out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

His eyes softened and he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, before your Aunt Joyce’s voice stopped him.

“Benny!” She shrieked, and the moment was gone.

“Come over here and tell us about your work!”

Benny’s eyes locked with yours and you had to hold back a laugh at the panic you saw in them.

“Good luck,” you mouthed at him as he made his way over to her.

- - - -

You couldn’t sleep.

You were in your childhood bedroom; a place where you’d slept thousands of times before without consequence, and still, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for hours, and sleep just wouldn’t come.

You tried to blame it on too much caffeine, the excitement of the past few days, anything, but you knew what the common denominator was: Benny.

You couldn’t sleep without him there. At least not tonight, at least not after what happened.

After your family had overstayed their welcome (customarily), you had all retreated to your respective corners of the house: your father to his office, your mother to their room, and you and Benny curled up on the couch and watched hallmark Christmas movies.

It was the end of November, and the television channels were beginning their Christmas countdowns. Normally you hated the holidays. Your family never really celebrated thanksgiving, and Christmas was always a dramatic affair that included more fighting and bickering than family together-ness, so you’d grown to hate the tediousness of it all. But there, sitting with Benny and laughing at the ridiculousness of whatever Christmas-themed monstrosity hallmark had conjured up this year, made you realize that maybe you could like it if it included him. And that thought scared you.

Sitting up in your bed, you made your mind up and came to a decision, no matter how stupid that decision may be.

You crept down the stairs with skilled agility, being sure to bypass all the creaky floorboards that had gotten you in trouble in the past. You wrapped the quilt you’d brought with you from your bed tighter around your shoulders as you neared the basement. It was always freezing down there, no matter how much your parents cranked up the heat.

You were sure to be quiet as you snuck into the dark room where Benny was sleeping. It wasn’t dark and dank like many basements you’d seen, but it wasn’t completely finished either. You could barely make out his form on the trundle bed in the low lighting.

You shuffled closer and gently placed a knee on the bed.

“Honey?” he asked in a scratchy voice. Your heart stopped.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”

“No,” his answer was immediate as he shuffled from the middle of the bed to one side, wordlessly making room for you.

He held up the heavy comforter as you moved closer, a wordless invitation. You slid in, perhaps a bit too close to be considered platonic, before placing your own quilt over his own comforter.

“I’m sorry it’s so cold down here,” you said lamely, suddenly embarrassed that you’d been caught sneaking into his bed.

He must think I’m pathetic, you thought.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled half-heartedly. “I don’t mind.”

You knew that was a lie. Benny would sleep in a sauna if he could. Still, it made your heart clench.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked after a moment of laying there in silence.

You shook your head.

“Nope.”

He hummed at that, shuffling a bit closer before sighing. He was getting comfortable, you realized. Getting ready to sleep. You felt his breath on your lips, and even in the darkness, you could tell that if you moved forward an inch, your noses would be touching.

“Me neither.” He finally added. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight,” you hummed back, tangling your legs with his under the blankets.

[xxxevilfilms]

Bicurious Twenty-Somethings | Chapter 5

Info: Fuck buddies AU. Hwoarang and Jin attempt to see eye to eye after concluding that neither of them have anything to gain from their rivalry and decide to become friends...kinda. One thing leads to another when Hwoarang exposes Jin to recreational activities that colors Jin’s feelings about his former rival.

Kinks: Anal Sex, Creampie, Porn Watching, Anal Fisting

Chronic Break | Jin Kazama x Hwoarang, Jin Kazama x Steve Fox

Summary: Hwoarang thinks Jin should make more friends; Jin becomes very friendly with a certain boxer who comes to Japan for a few title matches.

A/N: Two bottoms talk about being fucked in the ass while watching porn, wtf do you want from me

Ao3 Link

Jin is getting his cock sucked by Hwoarang when he hears Hwoarang's phone ring. Jin ignores it and lets him answer it, used to his friend returning texts and answering phone calls whenever they’re intimate. So Jin just sits there and lets Hwoarang manipulate him with his throat as he quickly taps his fingers on his phone.

“Fuck,” Jin grunts, in love with how easily he made his cock disappear. “Fuck, Hwoarang, how are you able to do that...?”

Hwoarang hums around him, a muffled “hold on” that sends vibrations through his shaft. Jin lays against his bed, breathless, and lets him do his thing, enjoying the way his throat undulates and pulses around him. 

“Mmm...” Jin's cock is eventually freed, reappearing from the depths of Hwoarang’s mouth thickly coated in dripping spit. He then tosses his phone somewhere on the bed before giving the tip of his prick a kiss.

“My bad,” Hwoarang licks around the tip. “Had to send a quick text.”

“Who was it...?” Jin asks. “Your master?”

“Nah, if it were him, he'd have called. It's just a friend.” He jerks him off. “I think you know him. He's pretty famous... Well, he thinks he is anyway.”

“If he's famous, I might know him. What's his name?”

“Steve Fox ring a bell?”

“Ah,” Jin cocks his head, recalling the face. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember him. He was at a few Iron Fist tournaments.”

As well as some classified files he found at the Zaibatsu, but Jin keeps that detail to himself.

“Yup, that’s the one.” Hwoarang props his chin in his free hand. “He's got a couple of title matches, so he's in Japan for a few weeks.”

“That's exciting. Are you two going to meet up?”

“Yeah, he's gonna be here this weekend.” Hwoarang looks up at him. “Wanna tag along?”

“I wouldn't want to cramp your style,” Jin waves him off, polite. “Enjoy your time with him.”

“Eh? You don't wanna come?”

“I mean, I could if you really want me to...” Jin looks the other way. “I don't know if I'd have much to say.”

“What, you shy?” Hwoarang sniggers a little. “Hmph, that's cute. You can start a whole world war but God forbid you look a guy in the eye for more than five seconds...”

“It's not like that.”

“Beyond me and that little brat, who the hell else do you hang out with, huh?”

“Hmm...” Jin thinks about it. “X-Xiaoyu?”

“Shit, really?” He cocks his head. “Gonna dangle that carrot over her head like that?”

“Oh stop, she's not that kind of person.”

“I dunno, man,” Hwoarang licks him again. “Had enough bitches in my life to know that “being friends” doesn't really work after a break-up.”

“Did you actually have a girlfriend long enough to even call it a relationship?”

“Have you?”

“It wasn’t long, but at least I cared about her,” Jin bit back. “Still do...”

“No wonder she's so cool with you...” Hwoarang looks the other way. “Don't mean to be nasty or anything, but she's kinda a doormat.”

“H-Hwoarang!”

“I'm just saying!”

“I swear, you don't know when to shut up at all...”

“It's called being honest,” Hwoarang forgoes playing with Jin’s cock to talk to him properly. “Alright, fine. Besides me, your cousin, and your...situation, you're a total shut-in.”

“...And there's something wrong with that?”

“Uh, yeah?” He crosses his arms. “You need more friends, it'll do you some good.”

“I'm not exactly a people person...”

“Well, I need someone with me whenever I go partying. Seriously, do you know how awkward you are? Do you? You act so smart, but it's like all your brains when to your cock or some shit-- ”

Jin tunes Hwoarang out by laying back on the bed, closing his eyes. He never liked talking to people who didn't matter to him, had to force himself to get used to the idea when he led the Zaibatsu, but that was just business. He can never go out of his way to make actual friends lest he embarrass himself or lose interest in the person he's interacting with. Were it not for his devil gene and war criminal status, Jin considered himself a boring person; he doesn’t have nearly as much character and charisma as Hwoarang does to get many friends...

It's beyond him why Hwoarang insists on having him meet this guy, but if it makes him happy (and most of all shut up) he might as well tag along.

Once Jin hears Hwoarang's motor mouth mention Xiaoyu again, Jin sits up to hold his hand over Hwoarang’s mouth, silencing him.

“ Urusai , you made your point.” He grimaces. “I'll go with you, alright? Now will you shut your trap and go back to what you were doing, please?” 

Hwoarang shakes Jin's hand off, smug when he kneels between his legs.

“That's what I thought,” He licks a long stripe from his balls to his slit. “You're gonna have a good time, guy. Don't you trust me?”

“No,” Jin sighs. “I just tolerate you.”

That earns him a bite on the thigh, a small price to pay for having Hwoarang as a friend. After coming in his mouth and letting him fuck him in the ass, Jin mentally prepared for the weekend, annoyed that he let Hwoarang convince him to tag along.

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Steve agreed to meet them at a bar, some izakaya in Miyakojima, and Jin, at the behest of his good conscience, forced himself to be sociable. Hwoarang, already something of a social butterfly himself, was naturally friendly (if not a little obnoxious), and greeted Steve like it's the easiest thing in the world once they see him loitering outside the building.

Jin stood a good few inches behind Hwoarang when he watched him dap up Steve, not bothering to focus on the intricacies of their handshake once it became too complicated for him to follow. After exchanging friendly banter that Jin isn't too sure is appropriate to say aloud, Steve turns his attention to him as casually as can be.

“Man, I can't even remember the last time I saw you!” He pushes past Hwoarang to give Jin a formal handshake. “How's it goin’, mate? Not keyed up evil still, are you?”

“N-No, thankfully not,” Jin maintains a phlegmatic smile as he takes Steve's hand. “Pleasure meeting you though. I'm sorry that I couldn't see you personally when I was, uh...”

“Hey, no worries, bruv, water under the bridge.” Steve waves him off. “World ain't on fire anymore and that's all that matters. If ya really wanna make it up, you can pay for dinner.”

“E-Eh?” Jin looks at Hwoarang. “Am I footing the bill?”

“Relax, guy, he's just kidding. Git’s got enough scratch to buy out the whole joint if he wanted to.” Hwoarang rolls his eyes. “Isn't Gatorade sponsoring you now or something?”

“Red Bull, thank you very much,” He looks smug as he gives Jin a light punch in the shoulder. “I'm just bustin’ your balls though, mate! I bet paying for this piss ant's dinner got your credit in the negative, so don't worry about it.”

“I'm usually spotting dinner on most nights, yes.” Jin nods. “It takes a while for his tournaments to send him his checks is what he usually tells me.”

“Oh, he tells ya that, too, huh?”

“Yeah, cuz it's true.” Hwoarang pushes past both men to enter the restaurant. “I can leave you bitches to yap if ya want, I'm gonna go eat.”

“Can dish it out, but he can never take it,” Steve sighs and then motions for Jin to come with him. “C’mon then, best catch up with him before he makes an ass outta himself.”

Jin follows Steve inside, silent as he lets him talk into his ear about food and whatever else comes to mind for him. Once they join Hwoarang at a table he's sitting at, dinner goes about as well as Jin expects it could. While Steve and Hwoarang ordered plates of short ribs, yakitori, and other fatty foods Jin didn't care for, Jin ate a modest portion of chicken soba with a side of nikuman and oolong tea.

“Food here's not too bad,” Hwoarang said with a mouthful of charsiu. “Wouldn't expect a limey fuck like you to pick a place like this.”

“What, can’t be fancy?” Steve laughs, sipping at some beer. “Not like those yanks are gonna gimme a handout anyway.”

“Do they shake you down for money yet, or do you keep them too busy to give them the chance?”

“Pfft, I ain't a charity case. If they need money, they know exactly what to do.”

Jin listens to their banter, content with himself until he hears a mention of his name.

“Oi, you ain't finna eat anything else?” Steve points at his plate.

“Oh this is enough for me, thanks.” 

“C'mon, mate; you don't get that hench eatin’ like a bird.”

“He makes up for all those lost calories, trust me.” Hwoarang adds on. “When we get toasted, dude eats like a fuckin’ machine.”

“You do reefer?”

“I didn't intend to be,” Jin explains. “He gave me some one night and then I got into the habit.”

“Well fuck me, I didn't know this gook got you on that stuff!”  Steve chuckles as he pats Jin's back. “He ain't giving you grass clippings, yeah?”

“I wouldn't know,” Jin shrugs. “It hits me pretty fast though.”

“Fuck off, I got good shit.”

“I gotta take some time out to join you lot. Haven't had a good smoke in months, I don't think.”

“Sure you can handle it? Strains I got are pretty potent.”

“If I'm gonna be in the ring, need somethin’ to dull the pain, amirite?” Steve jostles Jin again, his smile infectious. “Just tell me when and I'll come runnin’!”

After dinner was over, Steve paid for the bill and left the bar with Jin and Hwoarang. Jin watched them hassle each other, quiet like usual, but happy that he had the chance to meet Steve. He's a lot like Hwoarang in a way, except more charming and dare he say more tolerable. Jin hopes that he's able to see Steve again during his stay here; probably do him some good to have more cool-headed company for once.

Before Jin drove out with Hwoarang to the Kazama residence, Steve gave Jin his phone number and a slug in the arm for good measure.

“Do me a favor and tune into ESPN for me next Saturday, yeah? 8pm sharp; don't want you blokes to miss me winning~”

“Don't count on it,” Hwoarang puts his keys into the ignition. “We got better things to do, eh, Kazama?”

“I'll watch it.” Jin ignores him. “You're a good fighter from what I've seen.”

“Aw, thanks, mate,” He pats Jin's shoulder. “Text me if ya ever want some time away from that wannabe yank for once, m'kay?”

“Don't make me run you over!”

“Sure,” Jin smiles at Steve. “I'll keep it in mind.”

Steve invited Jin and Hwoarang into a convenient group chat he made later that night when all three men were situated in their respective abodes. Steve and Hwoarang bullshitted with one another by sending politically incorrect memes and messages to each other while Jin was content with just lurking. He chimed in when he needed to, but otherwise kept quiet, at least for now.

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It took Steve just ten minutes to knock out the poor guy they put him in the ring with to win the title match, and so, the men celebrate the best way they know how.

Steve snuck away from the lights, cameras, coaches, and prodding sports moguls to hang out with Jin and Steve in Hwoarang's hotel room. They ordered food and smoked out the bedroom while Hwoarang played a new game this time at Steve's insistence. Instead of another mind-numbing round of House of the Dead 2 , Steve thought it would be nice for Hwoarang to play Crazy Taxi .

“Where the fuck are ya goin’, mate? KFC is right there.”

“Nah, hold on, hold on, I know a shortcut,” Hwoarang rolled the spliff in his mouth with his tongue. “Shit...”

“Make a left,” Steve pointed at the screen. “Make the left, bruv, into the parking garage.”

“That goes to Levi's, dumbass.”

“No, that's at the park, ya wank.”

Jin ate an order of battered chicken wings as he watched his friends bicker, too unfamiliar with the game to give much input besides basic commentary.

“You're almost out of time, Fakun.” Jin blurts out. “Maybe you should--”

“ Sshi-bal ...”

“Told ya you had to cut through the garage,” Steve kicks him. “Gimme.”

“Whatever, I'm hungry anyway,” Hwoarang hands him the controller and then looks at Jin. “Don't tell me you ate all the fuckin’ chicken again, guy.”

“I don't know, I haven't been counting.” Jin deadpans, eyes still glued to the screen. “Better check before I have more.”

“I'm using your card if ya did,” Hwoarang crossed the floor to get some food.

“Use the gold card if you must.”

Hwoarang grabs a smaller box of deep-fried goods to snack on, leaving Steve to vegetate on Crazy Taxi by himself. Jin watches him, barely understanding the rules of the game, but enjoying the gameplay nonetheless. He can hear Hwoarang give Steve unwarranted advice that Steve promptly ignores until he suddenly stops, having eaten himself into a coma before he had a chance to have another turn.

After about twenty minutes of burning asphalt and American rock music, Steve pauses the game and asks Jin if he wants a turn.

“You wanna have a go?”

“I'm okay, I'm not great at video games,” Jin replies. “I like to sit back and watch.”

“Works for me,” Steve pauses the screen and grabs a can of beer he was drinking. “Gonna take a break, check in with folks back home.”

“Hm.” Jin nods, quiet when he eats a box of cookies. For a while, they sit in a comfortable silence until Steve talks again.

“You're not really all that chatty, are you?”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Jin clears his throat. “I've been trying not to be.”

“It's alright,” He points to the slumbering redhead who hangs halfway off the bed. “Hell of a lot better than dealing with that thing 24/7.”

“He grows on you.” Jin shrugs. “I wish I were more like him... Sometimes, at least.”

“A loud mouth?”

“I just wish I had his social skills. I never really had a chance to make too many friends, so I guess I'm a little stunted in that regard.”

“I like ya fine, mate, don't worry yourself with that shit.” He drinks his beer. “I never really had the chance either, so I get it. There are some people who need friends to come to them instead.”

“Ah,” Jin never thought of it that way but doesn't try to ask about Steve's experiences. He knows too much as is and would like to stay amiable with him if he could help it. Still, it's a comforting thing to know that there were people like him in the world.

“That makes me feel a little better. Thanks.”

“No prob, bruv, what mates are for. Hwoarang told me you're a little quiet, but I like that. You got a feng shui thing about ya that keeps the room calm.”

“Really?” Jin scratches his chin, bashful at the compliment. “I-I guess I could say the same about you. I'm used to it and I wouldn't change a thing about him, but it's nice having someone around who isn't so...hotheaded.”

“Same, I like being around ya.” He winks at him. “Not a lot of blokes can brag about being good mates with a demon~”

They share a laugh, although Jin can't help but feel a little embarrassed about his powers and past behavior. He doesn't think about it though and chews the fat with Steve for the next hour, unconsciously moving closer to him, oblivious that they are now touching shoulders when Steve starts showing him pictures of his life in America on his phone. His gallery mostly had pictures of himself, food, boxing gyms, and candid shots of two middle-aged men of differing ethnicities that caught Jin’s eye.

“Are those friends of yours?” He asks.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Steve taps on one of the pictures so Jin can see more clearly. “My mates back in New York. That's Paul,” He points at the blonde man. “And that's Marshall.” He then points at the Asian man.

“I remember a Paul in one of the tournaments,” Jin looks closer, recognizing the hair. “You three seem to have a lot of fun together.”

“There's never a dull moment at Marshall China.” Steve scrolls through more pictures, mostly of just Paul and Marshall horsing around with one another or with Steve, but a certain picture that Steve swipes to makes Jin blush.

It was a picture of Steve sharing an intimate kiss with Marshall, framed in such a way that it looks as though someone else took it. Jin’s instinct is to look away out of modesty, but Steve hardly reacts to it.

“O-Oh,” Jin still keeps his gaze set on the floor. “I didn't know you two were involved.”

“Eh, we kinda are, kinda aren't,” Steve shrugs. “It's a little complicated, almost like what you and Hwoarang got goin’ on, ya know?”

Jin’s eyes snap to Steve's face who looks nonplussed. “How did you...??” 

“He tells me a lot of things about you two.” Steve lays back, smirking like a devil. “Nothin’ to be shy about though. Two hotties shaggin’ each other's not gonna bother me none.”

“I'm mostly surprised... We're not exclusive or anything, but I figured he'd want to keep whatever we are private.”

“Not really. He doesn't talk to a lot of people, so he doesn't have anyone to tell.” Steve chuckles. “He ain't embarrassed about it or gives a good goddamn who knows. Just keep his balls empty and that's all that matters.”

“How long have you known?”

“Who do you think planted the seed, mate? These blokes have been my fuck buddies for the last year now.” Steve leans closer to Jin to show him his phone again. “Told me he liked you, so I gave him some advice.”

“I see...” That explains a lot, or at the very least helps him understand how Hwoarang arranged for their relationship to be like this. He had no clue Steve of all people would be the one to introduce Hwoarang to the idea though.

 “So, you're with two men?” Jin can't help but look at the screen of Steve's phone, curiosity getting the best of him. “How does that work?”

“Imma bit of a slag,” Steve takes it upon himself to show Jin a picture of himself sitting on top of Marshall, half-naked with a bulging erection through his underwear. “Don't care who I get to shag. So long as I get my rocks off, it's all good.”

“Are you sure you should be, uh...” An obscene image of Steve sandwiched between Marshall and Paul makes him blush. “Showing me this?”

“They wouldn't care,” He throws an arm around Jin. “Probably feel proud that I'm showing this to anyone, to be honest.”

“Mm...” Jin flinches at the fingers raking his skin, pinking quickly beneath Steve's touch. “I-If you're sure.”

Jin pays attention to the screen again, shy but still interested in what is in front of him. Steve is a very attractive man, so to see him so intimate with other handsome men made him...hot to put it simply.

Jin is quiet and passive when Steve begins telling him stories associated with the pictures in one of his galleries, a folder suspiciously named “Bitch”. Jin feels his heart race and breathing pick up once Steve taps on the folder, revealing vulgar, intensely erotic images that make his prick twitch.

“Hwoarang tells me you like gettin’ buggered,” Steve taps on a video of himself, folded over, getting his hole pounded by Marshall. “I like that, too.”

“I like doing both,” Jin swallows thickly. “But I prefer to bottom.”

“Why's that?” Steve turns up the volume, the soft hum of studly moans and slapping flesh making Jin squirm. “He fucks it that good?”

“I have needs that I like fulfilled when he's on top,” Jin thinks about the last time Hwoarang fucked him. He had him against the wall, like a dog, fucking his ass as he bit holes into his shoulders. He still has the scars, a physical reminder of his addiction to his own pain.

He wonders if Steve feels the same...

“Is there any reason why you like it?”

“Just do,” He scrolls to the next video. “But I don't mind topping either.”

Jin's imagination runs wild then. Steve looks big; thick and long like he prefers. He wonders how it would feel to fuck himself on Steve's prick, if he'd be rough like Hwoarang or more patient. A part of him also wonders if he should be thinking this way, but like he mentioned before, it's not like he or Hwoarang are exclusive...

Jin is taken from his thoughts by the next video that starts playing. In a front-facing shot this time, Steve is bound by the wrists, legs pulled up to his chest to show off a shiny wet pink hole that winks at what Jin assumes to be Marshall. He's kneeling over Steve, rubbing dripping wet fingers on wrinkled skin, teasing it, prodding it when he feels like it.

“So fucking wet...” He lifts his middle finger and sinks it in, at a snail's pace, pulling out just as slow. “ Think you deserve it tonight, baby?” He slaps him. “ Been training like I told you?”

“Please , daddy ,” Steve gasps. “ I'm so ready, I fuckin’ need it...”

“ He can take two dicks up his cunt no problem,” Another voice in the background says. Jin assumes it's Paul's. “Give it to him, Marshall, been dying to see you split him apart.”

Jin gulps, mesmerized. Steve chuckles and skips through the video to show Jin whatever it is Marshall and Paul are about to do to him.

“This one's my favorite,” His breath tickles Jin’s skin. “Felt amazing, but couldn't sit right for a week.”

Before Jin can ask why Steve would say such a thing, he finds himself staring at a most peculiar sight; a limb shoved firmly up Steve’s ass. His hole is red and raw from being stretched so much, fucked mercilessly by a thrusting forearm that glistens with lubricant and whatever else they prepped Steve with. His moans sound less like moans and more like strained, breathless whines, choked groans that bring Jin to full mast. 

“T-That went in you...?”

“Told ya I'm a bit of a slag,” Steve then looks at him, gaze knowing. “Looks good doesn't it?”

“M-Mhmm...” Jin is amazed, baffled, and most importantly, aroused by what's become of Steve. Tears stain his eyes while drool wets his lips and chin, rivulets of saliva cleaned up by Paul's white cock wiping his face. Steve mindlessly takes that pale monster into his mouth like a whore starved, tasting it, rolling his tongue up and over the head as Marshall retracts his arm for a moment. Quivering strands of lube come with him when he does so, dripping to the sheets, lacing his fingers together once he manages to pull his wrist out. Jin's eyes stayed glued to the gaping, pulsing rosebud that was Steve's ass, hollowed out and closing around nothing, cock aching at the sight of something so delightfully nasty.

Jin shifts a little, groaning. 

“Hwoa told me you gotta big cock, too.” Steve remarks, eyes shifting between Jin’s face and the bulge in his underwear. “Wanna pull it out for me?”

Jin, in his heaven of bud and lust, almost does so, but counters Steve with a request of his own.

“You first.”

Steve blinks, then grins, before lifting his hips to pull down his sweats and underwear, refusing to break eye contact with Jin.

A long, pulsing organ is pulled down by an elastic waistband before bouncing back in place, erect and plump, sheathed by foreskin that crowns his glans. Jin, mesmerized, has an urge to suck it, but has a feeling that he won't have to wait long to do that.

“You're big,” Jin does the same, pulling down lycra boxers to show off his darker prick to Steve's. “Hope I don't disappoint.”

“Nah, mate,” Steve whistles once Jin’s listing cock comes into view. “You're just how I like ‘em.”

“Thanks,” He grabs himself, fondles his balls a little. “I like yours, too.”

Steve placed his phone in his other hand to reach for the member standing between Jin’s legs, wrapping calloused fingers around the shaft. Jin sighs deeply while Steve bites his lip, manipulating him, squeezing precome from his slit. It prompts Jin to do the same to Steve, holding the half-hooded prick in his trembling hand to play with it properly. Goodness, Jin thinks; he can't believe he's doing this...

“Is there more...?” Jin asks, tightening his grip. “More of your “daddy” punishing your hole?”

“Heh,” Steve's chest rises and falls as he holds the phone between them to watch it again. “Thought you'd never ask...”

Jin smooths his bangs over his head as Steve skips through a little, stopping at a frame that shows Marshall in the process of fitting a second hand up his ass. Jin bucks into Steve's hand at the sight, excited, heart pounding once Steve plays the video again.

Marshall kneels over Steve's trembling body, one fist leaving him as the other enters him, creating a brutal pace that ends with Marshall forcing both fists up Steve's asshole. Steve's screams are muffled by Paul's cock fucking his throat, thick fingers buried deep in silken blonde locks to keep his head where it's supposed to be.

“Oh fuck, that's...” Jin furrows his brows, too aroused for words. “That's good...”

“Like that, babe?” Steve pumps him at a languid pace. “Like jerkin’ it to me, do ya?”

“Yeah,” Jin returns the favor, hand trembling. “You look so good....”

“Want me to do that to you...?” Steve's lips hover over Jin’s. “Ruin this tight little ass...?”

Jin suppresses a loud moan that threatens to leave his throat. Fuck, yes, he tells himself; it would hurt, and he would cry, and there's a good chance Steve will rip him apart if he wasn't prepped enough, but that just makes it more exciting.

Jin closes the gap between himself and Steve by kissing him, tonguing parted lips, eyes shut in ecstasy when Steve reciprocates.

“I wanna make you gape like that...” Steve pulls away from him, swallows his spit. “Like to work you up with my prick though...”

“Make it happen then,” Jin licks Steve's lips as he climbs into his lap, too horny for his own good. “Fuck me.”

Steve watches Jin settle on top of him, pausing the video to admire the six feet of muscle that hovered over his thighs. He seems surprised, but also amused by Jin's forwardness, putting his phone down completely to grasp Jin's narrow waist.

“We really gonna do it?” He motions at the bed with a nod. “He's still here ya know.”

“He won't wake up, not ‘till morning,” Jin kisses him again. “Not going to back out now, are you?”

“Fuck, babe,” Steve lifts Jin’s shirt over his chest. “Got any lube?”

“Mm...” Jin nods, pries himself off of Steve to get some lube from Hwoarang’s nightstand. As soon as it's in his hand, he's back in Steve's lap, slathering his cock in thick oil, too eager to work himself up for it. The one prick he's ever fucked looks like Steve's; he can take it easy with the prep tonight.

Once Steve looks wet enough for him, Jin sits on it, working it inside inch by steady inch with stiff bounces and rolls of his hips. Steve watches him intently, smoothing his hands up his sides and over his chest once Jin manages to slide down the rest of his length.

“Fuck yeah, babe,” Steve moans, eyes trained on Jin's hard chest. “Work that ass for me...”

“That good?” Jin starts moving, rocking down as Steve thrusts up.

“Beautiful,” Steve reaches around Jin to take two handfuls of his ass, squeezing, tongue licking at his neck and clavicle. “Feels just like a cunt, so wet and tight.”

“Fuck...” Jin braces himself on Steve's shoulders, arching his back to hit his prostate better, wincing at the stretch. He fucks himself harder then, barely contained moans leaving him. Steve leaves a lingering suck on Jin’s neck before sitting back to watch him ride, nails digging into the fat of his rear.

“Good, baby, good,” He gives him a firm smack on his right cheek, not as hard as he'd like, but it still feels really good. “That's it, love, lemme see that pretty cock bounce.”

“Digging me out...” Jin grunts. “So damn big...”

“Take it so good though, like you were made for this, darl’. You made for taking cock, babe?” Steve says against his lips. “Like throwin’ this slag cunt around?”

“ Yes ...” Jin kisses him. “Need you, need this ...”

“Can see why Hwoa likes you so much,” Steve holds him close, moving with him. “Probably gave it up the first chance you could, eh?”

“ Ngh ...”

“Wanted you the moment I saw you,” Steve grabs Jin's legs, wrapping them around his waist so he can hold him tight. “Knew you had a cunt worth dying for...”

Jin pants, eyes sinking into his head. Steve wanted him, he says to himself in reverence; he wanted his body, his cock, his hole, his everything. It made his cheeks flush and his loins ache.

“Gonna fuck you like this every day,” He throws his head back. “Want that, baby? Want me and Hwoa to turn you out?”

“Do whatever you want to me, I don't care...” Jin rasps out, floating on cloud nine. “Fuck me, fuck me ...”

“ Shit ...” Steve fucks him hard and fast, at his limit it seems, but knows better than to leave Jin hanging. He pulls away quickly to jerk Jin off again, playing with him, squeezing and pumping his hand to get him to where he needs to be. Jin very nearly keels over at that, nearly screams, but keeps his cool, wary of Hwoarang. He came quickly and silently, holding a hand to his mouth as he spilled his seed all over Steve's abs, groaning deeply when Steve followed suit. He came inside of Jin, filling him up with warmth that quickly spills out of him until he's too soft to give him anymore. Jin is fine with that and promptly lifts his hips to pull Steve out, unbothered by the mess between his legs.

“Phew... Sorry about that. I guess those videos worked me up some.” Jin wipes sweat from his brow as he collapses in Steve's lap, fat ass warming his flaccid length. “Kind of pounced on you...”

“All good,” Steve leans back against the bed. “Didn't know you liked them that much, heh...”

“I don't know if I'm ready for something like that, but maybe one day.” Jin loses himself in the thought. “Letting you and Fakun do that to me is a tempting idea.”

“Spoken like a true bottom~” Steve sniggers, pulling him close. “I promise ya, we'll work you up to it. Hopefully, Hwoarang don't mind sharing for a bit.”

“Yeah...” Jin wonders if Hwoarang would really care. Sure, they're not dating or anything, but the man can't help but be a little possessive sometimes. Jin will make a point to curb Hwoarang every now and again during Steve's stay here.

Too tired to really ponder on it any longer, Jin and Steve clean up before falling asleep on the floor, tangled up in each other's arms, momentarily forgetting that they're still in the room with a slumbering Hwoarang.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Oi...”

Jin shifts in his sleep, cuddles into Steve to get away from the noise that threatens to disturb him.

“Oi...!”

Jin doesn't respond, but Steve does.

“Sod off, ya gook...” He pulls Jin in. “Too early for this shit...”

Silence, and then a firm kick to the ribs shocks both men awake

Steve rolls off of Jin immediately, clutching his sides as he opens baby blue eyes to look up at the infuriated redhead who stares at them with contempt. It prompts Jin to open his eyes as well, unbothered, but still a little annoyed at Hwoarang's behavior.

“Ugh, the fucks your problem, wanker...?” Steve sits up, pouting. “Was havin’ some good sleep there...”

“Yeah, I can fuckin’ see that!” Hwoarang barks. “The fuck do ya think you're doing, you slut?? We were supposed to fuck him together!”

“Hey, it ain't my fault! We was just talkin’, and uh...one thing kinda led to another.” Steve looks to Jin, hugging him from behind to piss Hwoarang off more. “Ain't that right, babe? You said so yourself that you couldn't resist a handsome chap like me, huh~?”

“Ah, good to know your anger is for a different reason...” Jin grimaces, certainly not expecting that they were already anticipating a threesome, but too tired to properly acknowledge it. “Not that I mind the idea, but why are you so upset that we did anything without you?”

“That's not the point!” Hwoarang crouches to Jin’s height to grab him by the shirt. “You let this limey cracker get up in your ass while I was knocked out and didn't bother waking me up!?”

“I like keeping all my fingers, thanks.” Jin frowns. “The day I expire from this world is the day I decide it necessary to wake you up from a nap.”

Hwoarang looks ready to blow up at Jin again, but is tackled to the ground by Steve who's quick to defuse the situation.

“Aw, is the wannabe yank jealous?” Steve mounts him, peppering his neck with sloppy kisses. “Afraid I'm gonna steal your boy toy away from ya?”

“Get offa me, you asshole!” Hwoarang yells, squirming like a worm. “You two can rot in hell for all I care!”

Jin watches Steve casually assault Hwoarang with mocking smooches and groping hands, a distraction that Jin is thankful for. It gives him time to think about ways to make it up to Hwoarang for his apparent indiscretion. Hopefully sweet words and a fuck would do the trick, but maybe giving Hwoarang the threesome he wants will be a better solution.

[ahereticatoll]

0- introduction

i had my first cigarette on the Saturday Night of Leeds Festival. it was a cold, august night and blink 182 was in the middle of all the small things. i had sat down at the back of the crowd as i had fucked up my leg in a mosh pit that afternoon. the cigarette was one dashed away from a random passerby, still lit. i dragged it and i felt like it was a dawning of a new me. i had had my first vape the evening before, mind you. fast forward two, three months and i have developed a crippling addiction to nicotine and a burgeoning love for weed. i probably have the gene for addiction within me, as my father, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, aunt, uncles, cousins all have nicotine addictions, two dying from it. this is the great irony of me, i have all this context of how crippling addiction is and i just continue.

it was around this time where i had my last girlfriend for the time being, she was slightly younger and from finland. it was purely online as i had lost all my 'mojo' following 2 bad breakups in december 2023 and july 2024. ever since them, and my split from this finnish girl, i promised myself that i would never love someone deeply, i will commit myself to the hedonistic parts of my hypersexuality, to meet people and not love them, just sleep with them. its not worked, ever, but its good to have boundaries. my sexuality is one of the great unanswered questions of life, as it seems to be constantly waving like water in a sink. i flip from straight to bi to gay to pan to aro to gay again quicker than a coin, but i never land. as of right now i find myself defining myself with an uncommon label- homoromanticism. in my life i have found that i can have attraction to all genders but i can only catch feelings for boys (the 3 people i have ever cried over were all boys- ill introduce them all when its called for).

for what its worth, to those around me my official label doesn't matter, i'm just a faggot.

i want to preface too that i am not as good a person as a first person pov may make me seem. it is natural for someone who is speaking of themself to make themself seem more sympathetic, but please don't. i'm not a person i think is deserving of sympathy.

finally, i will explain the title of this blog, something i want to write as a concrete work once my feelings are catalogued, an unwanted autobiography. i came up with the concept of A Heretic Atoll while reading the liner notes of hail to the thief by radiohead, and it came up. i see it representing where i live, a place that, within the outskirts, lays the hedonism that i see myself being a part of. we are all heretics, me and my friends, even if we don't show it. we all have things about us that make us heretics in the eyes of conservatives- gender identity, sexuality, actions, addictions, all making us heretics circling the waters of the city i call home. i hate this place, i want to escape, but i cannot help but feel like i love it. i love the feeling that this city gives me- the borderline northern identity.

this will all get personal, so i will change every name, but every word is true, at least to me.

[steely-eyedmissileman]

The Vampire Diaries, Ep. 2x07

Masquerade

boring title. that aside, this episode was the most engrossing episode of the vampire diaries i've seen in a while. my notes are a bit thin on the ground because i was too busy actually watching the fucking episode for once.

caroline knows the difference between elena and katherine. i have a question about this, actually. shouldn't it be really easy for vampires to tell the difference. elena has a heartbeat and she breathes and she has blood running through her veins. katherine doesn't. if you have superhuman senses, shouldn't it be really fucking easy to tell the difference between a vampire and a human. unless vampires aren't that different from humans. in which cas, i'll be disappointed, but i wish someone would fucking tell me!

katherine's going to kill people at the masquerade ball (by people, she means everyone). stefan's going to kill katherine. katherine has an evil bonnie now.

jeremy's going to help kill katherine. ht is here!!!! he has secret arm stakes, which i adore! god, i miss ht. he's not in the show enough anymore.

matt has to go make tyler kill him. elena's not going to the party. ht's not going to the party. he's going to stay home with jenna and make sure elena is okay.

i feel like this plan to kill katherine isn't going to work. why do i feel like this isn't going to work? because i understand the arc of a twenty-two episode season.

we then have a moment that made me laugh so hard i almost hyperventilated and died. i'll let the notes take this one: 'ian somerhalder and paul wesley are two very attractive men how did they make them so un-hot in suits'

i don't want matt to die, and i'm beginning to get worried that he will. why did they do that with jeremy's hair? why are there so many bad covers of 80s songs?

katherine kills a girl in front of stefan in the middle of this party. why is this always happening?

meanwhile, elena is sneaking out to go figure out what's going on, even after ht told her not to. this is not a good idea.

at the party, bonnie and jeremy are bonding. i love a potential friendship between these two, which would be very nice. both of them need more ties to the larger group. both of them are fairly isolated, and they won't be able to evolve as characters without additional connections.

caroline looks fucking beautiful. she has become a much more interesting character since becoming a vampire. caroline successfully tricks katherine into the room, and she gets a wonderful evil laugh moment. she's really come into her own since she was turned, and it's a joy to watch. damon and caroline have a wonderful 'hello katherine' 'goodbye katherine' moment. it's lovely to see these two characters, who are arguably katherine's biggest victims in mystic falls, take back some agency and fight against katherine.

elena has found bonnie and jeremy and she's worried that her friends will get killed because of her. jeremy makes an excellent point: 'it's not just you anymore, elena.' and he's right. a lot of the plot is about elena, but all the other characters have also been harmed. everyone has the right to decide how to handle their own lives and elena is going to have to relinquish her desire for control. then katherine is stabbed, and elena starts bleeding. elena gets hurt when katherine does. to quote my notes, 'this is bad this is real bad.'

there's another witch at the party. bonnie's going to go find her. and do what? we simply don't know.

meanwhile, matt is provoking tyler. caroline enters just in time to save matt. however, the girl who fell down the stairs a couple episodes ago (her name is sarah, my girlfriend has told me) attacks tyler too. he shoves her off him, but she hits her head on the desk and dies. this party has a very high body count. and tyler's a werewolf now.

upstairs, katherine is turning the brothers against each other in the hopes that they'll attack each other. and she thinks it's funny. the spell gets removed, and then no one stabs katherine.

caroline is covering up tyler's situation because she's a good friend and a good person.

bonnie confronts the other witch: 'when i gave you the stone, how did i know i could trust you?' the other witch reveals that she is a bennett cousin. she also tells bonnie to embrace her role in the supernatural. 'unlike me, you're one of the good ones, bonnie. the middle is exactly where you need to be.' i'm hoping that this will help bonnie embrace her role in the narrative and stop the morality policing that she has been doing constantly.

unfortunately, it becomes clear that bonnie and jeremy are going to get together. i fucking hate it.

elena isn't getting back together with stefan because she doesn't feel safe.

damon puts katherine in the tomb, 'where you should have been all along.' death is too good for katherine.

elena gets kidnapped by a masked man.

holy shit, y'all, this was an episode.

[basicallyjaywalker]

Deep inhale. Well since you asked so nicely :D

On Razed Ground

Current WIP, takes place between S4 and S5 with some minor canon divergences (Pixal has a body already, Morro does not return in the same way) and is a three line story following the ninja, Pixal, and Ronin and Skylor respectively. Zombie AU! Telltale's Walking Dead inspired but I mostly wanna focus on the terrible human tragedy of an apocalypse (do you guys ever think about death?) and am going to draw on other zombie/apocalypse media (most of which was recommended by the very cool @finn-m-corvex ).

It's actually in the process of a semi-rework, taking my first outline and draft and doing a little extra planning. First thing I'm actually doing a full big plan for before writing because I want things to be really, really good

Broader Zombie AUs from that

And now, because ADHD is a menace, I have about 3 different other Zombie AUs that are scrapped ORG ideas.

One is the apocalypse happens at the very start of the series and all of the seasons/the pilots are rewritten with that as a change. So basically the day Nya would've been kidnapped is the day the outbreak hit their village

One is zombie apocalypse with the previous generation of EMs, not much aside from that, just a concept

And the last is just a series of unrelated one shots that mostly deal with death, grief, and ethical quandaries and will probably be the grab bag of any scrapped ORG ideas or scenes (because I have a lot of ideas but there's only one way someone can die)

The Grand College AU

What started as cute silly lesbian fluff spiraled into three separate storylines. Help

The first one is a Nya x Jasmine (OC) story. Both are workaholics whose friends encourage them to join one of the theatre groups on their campus to chill tf out. Jasmine is a sound and lights girlie, Nya is a minor actress, they both fall fast and hard and pine for weeks. Shenanigans ensue!

Then there's the polycule Jay fucked around and found himself in after he and Nya (amicably) broke up after graduation. Jay gets three boyfriends through autism rizz and it is similarly silly. Dumbassshipping + Kyle (OC).

And finally there's a cute friendship between Lloyd and his new roommate, Nataly (OC). Which I have one full scene thought out and it's them hashing out complicated feelings about their parents, and the rest is them getting into misadventure!

Overall a very silly AU. There's also Pixane but it's mostly Pixal being an exhausted wingman for Nya and Jasmine and she makes Zane watch movies with her after to decompress (he enjoys it)

Hallmark Movie (WIP title)

Another current WIP!

Another silly romance one! This is Kai x Hannah (OC) wherein they are both trying to get their shit together after some life fuckups.

Hannah moves into a new town after a breakup with her long-term girlfriend. There, she meets this annoying guy named Kai. Neither can stand each other at first, but they come together to restore an old building in town they have a connection with. They procees to slowly inch towards love in the process.

New Americana Inspired AU

Bruise celebrity AU! Jay was raised by Cliff and is groomed to be a child star. Hates this lifestyle. Cole has a similar backstory to canon, including running away from home and living with this weird old guy who runs a tea shop with his nephew. Lou still pushed him to be a dancer and Cole became famous for a bit before running away and disappearing off the face of the earth. They have a chance meeting and begin a forbidden romance. Themes of self-discovery and independence ensue! The finale is planned in my head

Scooby Doo AU aka Ninja Mystery Solvers

Monster Living AU

Fan season fan season! The basic idea is what if the people who ran Mega Monster Amusement Park were an evil megacorp and decided to make entire towns where everyone in them works for the Corp and the Corp controls everything in their lives! Very WIP

Kai, Nya, Pixal, Jay, and Cole are the Scooby Doo gang and I reimagine seasons/plotlines through the lens of Scooby Doo

Jay and Cole are Scooby and Shaggy (who has whose energy changes)

Nya is Daphne

Pixal is Velma

Kai is Fred

No planned ships other than some possible side character crushes and would mostly be a collection of the sillies

Original Masters AU

Story where the original elemental masters/embodiments of the elements are like gods. Some of them come back to Ninjago and try to make everything anew, disliking the direction the FSM's creation has taken. Problem being they have very little regard for life! Oops. There's also a possible crime drama/ace attorney scene in this. Because I can. Because it's fun

Other horrors include the masters having the ability to possess the current EMs and use their abilities. This requires having physical access to both the EM and the EM being extremely weakened though, as their powers naturally fend off the possession when at the level of strength that would interest one of these gods

And yeah that's about it! I have a few others but none of them are really fleshed out enough to talk about here

ANYONE that has a Ninjago AU omfg, please spill, I really want to hear ur guys’ ideas, AUs are so awesome and it’s so cool that creativity can bring so much insane stuff, DROP THEM NEOWWWWWW (and if u reblog don’t put it in tags…😞) I want to read them, I’m curious…

[ofstoriesandstardust]

what if you let them all in on the lie? (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: i am not lying to you when i say storm warning is the only series i’ve ever finished in a timely manner. it’s the power of cowboys. i kind of fucked up the ages a teensy bit so just.. ignore that. author oversight

summary: Rooster learns the truth. 

title comes from kelsea ballerinas “homecoming queen”

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | storm warning masterlist | forget what you’ve been told | but i’ve found that time can heal most anything

folks who wanted to be tagged: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @shanimallina87 @abaker74​ 

warnings: swearing, death of both parents, mentions of cancer, kissing, a handful of allusions to sex if you squint, gross overuse of italics

word count: 4,108

He sighed, moving the coffee cup up to his lips as he listened to his friends chatter. They’re discussing their plans for their last day, leaving the small town early tomorrow morning. 

He can feel Hangman’s eyes on him, their relationship back to being tense ever since whatever he had going on with Hangman’s girl ended. He hasn’t seen them together since he ended it with her but he assumed they were just trying to keep it on the down low, not hurt his feelings any more than they already did. 

He hears footsteps on the stairs, eyes drifting to the figure of Hangman’s girl. She’s in a pair of pajama pants, Navy blue with shooting stars, and a black t-shirt with her high school’s name on it. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes, yawning as she turns the corner and her eyes lock with his own. Swallowing, he looks away, not wanting to talk to her. He can sense Jake standing up but is greeted with the sound of the front door shutting just a few moments later. 

Looking back over, he watches Hangman sit back down, sighing and rubbing a hand over his eyes. He takes a sip of his coffee once more. 

“The two of y’all still fighting?” 

“Yes, of course we are, Em.” Hangman snaps. He almost raises an eyebrow at this, sure they were back together.

“Wasn’t asking you Seresin.” His gaze flickers up to catch Emma’s, realizing she’s talking to him. He doesn’t respond, just stretches out his arms as he moves to cross them. “Shame. Dating one of Jake’s friends severely decreased his chances of being stabbed by his little sister.”

Payback lets out a laugh. “What does Hangman’s little sister have to do with Rooster?”

Hangman- Hangman has a sister?

Tyler threw his friend a confused look. “That... that is Jake’s little sister.”

“Rooster’s been running around with Jake’s little sister.” Madison confirms as he feels his stomach begin to sink.

He’s fucked up. 

“You have a little sister?” Fanboy asks, sitting a little straighter from where he’s sprawled out on the floor. “I didn’t know that.” 

“I did.” Coyote says, leaning back against the couch. The group collectively turns to their attention to him.“You mentioned her once in passing a few years ago, when your Mom...” He trails off, looking around the room. “You know.” 

He very much did not know. 

Coyote clears his throat. “Anyways, she looks a lot like you, actually now that I think about it.”

Phoenix eyes grow wide as she turns to look at him. “Oh, you’re stupider than I thought you were Bradshaw.”

Now that’s not fair.

“Okay, no- hang on for a minute Phe, up until two minutes ago I wasn’t even aware Hangman had a sister. I thought she was his ex-girlfriend for Christ’s sake!”

Hangman makes a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s disgusting Bradshaw, this isn’t sweet home Alabama.” 

“Do you blame me Seresin? The two of you haven’t gotten along since we got here!”

“I wonder why.” Emma scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Shut up and mind your business Em.” Hangman shoots, eyes narrowing at the girl. 

“You made it my business.” 

“Actually, Ty made it our business when he convinced us all this was a good idea.” Lucas says, appearing in the doorway, the sound of the front door shutting following his words.  

Tyler startles. “Don’t put the responsibility all on me, Madi agreed to having them here.” 

She shoots her boyfriend a glare. “You were the one who came to me Ty and had I known this is how it was going to go, I would’ve told you to tell Jake to keep his ass back in San Diego.” 

“Et tu, Madi?” Hangman asks, huffing out a dry laugh. She turns to him. 

“Your little sister is hurting Jake, and somehow, you fail to see that.” 

“No, I see it, but I don’t know why.”

“Oh that’s bullshit Jake.” Riley says, moving off the couch. 

“What is going on?” He mouths to Coyote, watching the ranch hands fight. Coyote gives a half shrug, looking every bit bewildered as he feels. 

“The reality is Jake, that you know exactly how you’ve fucked up. But instead of taking responsibility for it, like a man, you’re cowering your way out, pretending like you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I’m not- Ty, back me up here.” 

“I don’t disagree with them, Jake. I just thought... I thought that if the two of you were in a room together, after ten years, maybe you could sort your shit out.” 

“Ten years?” Coyote exclaims, eyes widening as his head swings towards his best friend. 

“Been longer than that at this point.” Emma mumbles. 

“Maybe she’d forgive me if she didn’t have Em in her ear, talking her out of it.” Hangman shoots, words dripping with venom. It’s one of the only time he’s seen Hangman’s attacks not be carefully crafted, precise, meant to needle their exact target. It’s messy and angry and all too personal. 

“You know what, fuck you Seresin. When you take off again, and you will, because that’s exactly the kind of person you’ve proven yourself to be, it will be me picking you sister back up again. You leaving shattered your sister once, Jake. I don’t think she’ll survive a second time.” 

A silence settles over the room as Emma leans back against the back of the couch, tongue pressed in her cheek. “Em-” Hangman tries, voice much softer this time. 

“And you know what, no one wants to say it, but it’s time someone addresses it. Your Mom is dead. Your Dad is dead. Your sister was here. And where were you?” 

“Emma, you can’t-” Tyler says, but she turns to him.

“Can’t what? Say the truth? It’s about time someone did. Because I mean, fuck his sister right, if he gets to be out, traveling the world for the Navy, right? Fuck her, if it means he gets what he wants.” Emma sighs, standing up from the couch. “Go the fuck back to San Diego, Jake. Do what you do best and leave. But do me a favor this time and stay there.” He watches as Emma moves out of the room, pushing past Madison and Tyler to disappear into the kitchen. 

He looks over to Hangman, who is looking down at the floor, eyes glassed over. “Jake, she’s just looking out for your sister, she doesn’t-” Lucas says as Hangman stands up, setting his hat back on his head. 

“Yeah, I know.” He says, voice gruff as he slips past Riley, heavy boots sounding against the wood as he walks upstairs. He flinches as a door slams shut and he looks back to Phoenix. 

“Phoenix, I am so sorry your engagement trip has been bogged down by all this petty sibling drama. I should’ve- should’ve expected this.” Tyler says, catching his team’s attention. Phoenix shakes her head. 

“It’s okay.” She says softly. 

“I just thought- I thought maybe they could change things. But I was wrong and I’m sorry because I know y’all came out here to celebrate the two of you.” 

“No, it’s okay. Bob and I- we get it. It’s fine, please don’t worry about it.” Tyler nods absentmindedly, like he doesn’t quite believe her. Phoenix swings her head to look at him. “And how are you going to fix this Bradshaw?” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll admit that I fucked up, but it’s not worth it. It was never realistic anyways.” She stares at him as he pointedly avoids her look, taking another sip of his coffee. There’s a long pause between the two of them as he continues to count the chips in the peeling paint of the ceiling. 

“You’re not letting this go, are you?” Halo asks, a hint of laughter in her voice. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Phoenix, how would I even begin to fix it?” 

“Groveling would help.” 

“Phoenix-”

She grabs his arm, pulling him to his feet. “C’mon Bradshaw, you’re gonna go grovel and explain to your girl that you’re a moron, and patch this right up.” 

“Can I at least finish my coffee first?” 

“No.” She says, grabbing the cup from him and setting it down on the table with a little more force than necessary. She all but drags him out of the house as he can do little but follow her, walking towards the stables. 

He briefly catches the sight of her talking to Bob, still in her pajamas, as she paces barefoot. She catches sight of him and Phoenix and pauses, chest heaving. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling a little silly. “Hi Cowgirl.” 

You cross your arms. “You have an eavesdropping problem.” 

Bob locks the stall door they had been at and moves to Phoenix, slipping his hand into hers. “We’re gonna go back inside. We’ll see the two of you in there, yeah?” 

“Remember what I said Bradshaw! Don’t want to see you again till you’ve groveled!” Phoenix shouts over her shoulder as she leaves with Bob. He looks up at the roof of the stables, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. 

“Can’t believe I’m a grown adult being lectured by my friends.” 

“Kind of think you deserve it.”

He doesn’t disagree.

“We should talk.” 

You nod. “Yeah, let’s talk.” The two of you walk out of the stables, settling at a picnic table not too far from them. It’s old, the paint peeling, and he takes it as a good sign when you settle next to him instead of across from him. 

“I- I should start by saying I’m sorry. I, kind of stupidly, thought you were Hangman’s ex.”

“So I’ve been told.” You murmur quietly, picking at the skin on your fingernails. 

“He’s just- he’s never told us about a sister so I didn’t even- and well, I- I liked you a lot.” 

It’s the first time he’s said the words out loud, really contemplated the fact that he liked Hangman’s sister quite a bit more than he originally anticipated. 

“Liked, past tense?” 

“Like, present tense.” He corrects, taking one of your hands. “The thought that you might end back up with him- it scared me and uh, I didn’t want to be the pawn in whatever was going on between you and him.” 

“You were never a pawn. My issues with my brother remain the same but I’m not the type of person to just... use someone in that way.” 

He swallows, nodding as he squeezes your hand. “I believe you. I should’ve asked, but I didn’t, I assumed, and I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I figure I could’ve said something but- when someone hurts you deeply like that, it’s just- it’s hard to explain.” 

“I get it. Trust me, I get it.” 

If anyone understood betrayal, and the anger that came with it, it was him. 

“You know, he wasn’t here. My mom died of cancer when I was a freshman in college and he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here when I graduated from UT. He wasn’t here when Dad died. He left me alone and it’s been years and I just- He got out, got to see the whole goddamn world, and I was here, stuck in this shitty little country town, playing ranch hand until I died.” His grip on her hand tightens as he looks down at you. “I didn’t- I’m so tired of having to be the perfect one, the one to keep it together. To be the one to stay.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to anymore. You’ve got quite a few good friends in there and for what it’s worth, I’m here too.” 

He’s not entirely sure you processed his words as you shake your head. “Well, anyways, I’m sorry you and your friends got caught in the middle of all that.” 

He shakes his head, turning to press a soft kiss to your forehead, choosing to let it go. You let him, leaning into his side. “Don’t worry about any of that. What matters to me is if this between us is still fixable.” 

You look up at him. “I hope it is.” 

He nods as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Unlike the other times he’s kissed you, it’s slow, more meaning rather than passion. The feeling he felt that first night he met you is back and he knows he’d be a fool to walk away again. 

You pull away first but don’t go far, leaning your forehead against his own. “I wish we had more time.” You whisper, barely reaching his ears. 

“Me too.” He presses another kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure something out.” You look up at him. 

“Yeah?” 

He nods, confirming. “Yeah, if you want to put up with my dumbassery, then I’d be a fool to let you out of my sights again.” You let out a light laugh.

“Oh Bradshaw, if you only knew.” 

It’s you who initiates the kiss this time, hands finding the edges of his flannel to pull him against you. He breaks the kiss, ducking his head. 

“We should get inside. Shower. Start the day.” 

You snort, leaning your nose into his cheek. “Yeah, showering. That’s what we’ll be doing.” 

-

Phoenix grabs your arm as the group makes their way back inside the house, returning from their last night celebration. It was originally meant to be just their team but Bradley had asked you to come along, and Phoenix and Bob had just smiled and said the more the merrier. 

Jake was noticeably absent the whole day and didn’t make an appearance the whole night. 

You watch the kitchen door shut behind Bradley as you turn to face her and Bob, who are both smiling at you. “Hey, so what’re you doing a year from now?” 

You shrug, slipping your hands into your back pockets. “Probably here. Why?” 

Bob and Phoenix exchange a look. “Well, we wanted to formally invite you to our wedding.” Bob says, eyes gleaming with a hint of nerves. 

You raise an eyebrow, suddenly struggling to breathe. “I mean- yeah, if you want me there, of course I’ll be there.” You say, words coming out in a breathless rush. 

Phoenix smiles wide, reaching over to pull you into a hug. “”M so happy to hear that, because we’ve all enjoyed getting to know you.” You smile as you hug her. 

“Thanks for letting me into the group.” 

“Well, Bradley seems to really like you so we’d best be keeping you around.” You laugh as you turn, pushing the kitchen door open. Your friends are there and your brother is leaned up against the stove. You hop on to the counter to sit next to Bradley and smile at him as he hands you a beer from the fridge. There’s a silence as Phoenix and Bob take seats at the table that continues as you all sit there. 

“We should talk before I leave, kid.” Jake says softly. 

“I don’t really think I have anything left to say to you Jake.” 

He sighs. “Kid-” 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? That name was reserved for someone who cared about me, something you haven’t done in years.”

“That’s not true.”

Your eyes widen. “It’s not? Okay, did you care when you left with no goodbye? Did you care when your little sister was left all alone with our abusive father? Did you care when you didn’t call when Mom got sick or when you didn’t show up for her funeral? Is it caring, hm, to show up after more than a decade of radio silence? What the fuck about any of that is caring?” He doesn’t say anything and you take that as a cue to continue. “No, the only person you care about and look out for is you, Jake. What you fail to see about all of this, isn’t just the fact that you left. It’s the fact that you didn’t come back.” 

“What would you have me done? You know just as well as I did that I was not welcome back here.” 

“You could’ve called. Picked up the phone. Showed up after Dad died. Not left your 15 year old sister alone in this godforsaken house. God, Jake I know. I grew up here too. I know what it was like, but you have had chance after chance to fix things. To reach out. To say hey, I’m sorry for leaving and letting everything fall to you and carry lifelong burdens starting at the age of 15. But you haven’t done any of that. Instead, you skirted your responsibilities and left me here to carry the weight alone, to be stuck and pigeon-holed in this life I don’t want, just so you could get out. I had to bury our mother alone Jake.” 

He sighs, crossing his arms. Another silence falls over the room as he thinks over your words. His voice is gruff one he does speak. “Okay, kid, I hear you and I’m sorry. I am sorry. I can’t imagine what that was like, what this has been like, for you and I would like to fix it.”

You huff, sliding off the counter. “Too little, too late Jake.” The kitchen door swings shut behind you as you walk through the house to the front door, wanting to escape to the porch swing and night air. 

You all but collapse on the swing as the front door slams shut behind you. It’s not long that you’re out there alone as the screen door creaks open again, revealing Bradley. He wordlessly walk to the porch swing and you move to allow him to sit next to you. He doesn’t say anything as he opens his arms to pull you close and you take the invitation, crawling into his side. 

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with him, the porch swing gently swinging from the force of him rocking it as you sit curled into his side. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” You finally say, unsure what else to say about the exchange you and your brother had had. He squeezes your shoulder. 

“’S okay.” He doesn’t say anything more as he begins to rub soft circles into your shoulder. There’s another pause as you look out over the vast emptiness of the driveway and night sky. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know if I can.” You whisper, a fear unfurling in your chest that you may not ever be able to forgive him. “I’ve been angry for so long that- I don't know if I know how to not be.” 

He doesn’t stop his movements as he nods. “I understand.” There’s another pause as he moves you to be able to look into your eyes. “He is sorry though. Genuinely.” 

“I- I just- I’m his sister. I deserved more.”

He nods again as he reaches on of his hands out to cup your face. “I agree.” 

“And you know, it’s not like it’s all been shitty. I have great friends, a good job, and I haven’t hated home as much since Dad died. But I’ve always wanted more. I never got to have more because of the choices he made.” 

“What’s stopping you now?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, your Dad is dead. You have no more tethers here. You could... get out. Take the chance to explore the world.” 

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, I’m- My time, my chance, to have more has come and gone. These people need me and my place is here.”

He sighs, crossing his arms. “I just think you’d be happier if you stopped being afraid of taking the risk to seek more.” 

You swallow, unsure about how to respond. Your chest ached at the thought of leaving this place you had so long called home, with these people who you’d known all your life. But what made your chest ache even more was the thought of never getting out. Of staying here, because he wasn’t wrong, that you were afraid. Of not seeing the world, of never knowing more than this. 

“I’m terrified.” You finally admit softly, hoping the words will be lost to the night. “I’m terrified that I’m not as bright as I think I am, that I won't be as good out there as I am here, that I’ll walk way like he did, and not have a home to come back to, just like he did.” 

Bradley pulls you close once more. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve got you. I’ll be right here in case you fall.”

-

The morning chill sweeps through you as you hug Bradley, not wanting to let go. 

“This isn’t goodbye.” He whispers into your ear, as the pilots stand around you, getting their bags loaded in the cars and saying their final goodbyes. “It’s just see you later.”

You nod. “I know.” You swallow, not wanting to cry again in front of this boy you met just a handful of days ago. “Just gonna miss you.” 

He pulls back to cup your face. “Hey, I’ll still be here, just a phone call away. I’ll see you before you know it.” 

Last night, long after your conversation about Jake had passed, you and Bradley discussed the two of you. Where you went from here. While not ready to label things quite yet, you both agreed that you weren’t planning to date any one else moving forward. You guys had time to figure the rest out. 

You had all the time in the world. 

“I know.” You whisper softly as he leans down to kiss you. 

Kissing never seems to stop taking your breath away. It’s full of words neither of you know how to say just yet. You cling to his UVA sweatshirt as he pulls away. His eyes flicker over your shoulder and he straightens up. 

“Sorry, it’s your brother.” You glance over your shoulder to see Jake standing off to the side, eyeing the two of you with a hard look on his face. “You gonna say goodbye?” 

You sigh. “Probably should, shouldn’t I?” He nods. 

“Think that’d be best.” 

You take a step back, Bradley letting you go. You turn, walking towards your brother, who raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. You stick out your hand, offering him a small smile. “Don’t be a stranger, Jake.” He eyes your hand as he sighs, taking it and pulling you into a hug. You blink, feeling tears sting your eyes at being this close to him after so many years. “You stay safe out there, okay?”

“Same goes for you kid. No more horse-related injuries.” 

“No promises.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulders as he laughs, pulling away.

“Alright pilots, let’s hit the road. Y’all gonna miss your flight if we don’t head out.” Tyler says, shutting the trunk of one of the two cars, Riley and Lucas taking the other. Jake squeezes your shoulder as he walks towards the car, pulling Tyler into a hug. Emma and Madison come to stand behind you as Bradley jogs over, pulling you into one last kiss. 

“For the road.” He whispers. You smile into his lips. 

“Stay safe, Cowboy.” 

He presses a kiss to your cheek as Phoenix calls out for him and he turns, heading towards the car. Emma wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into her side as the cars pull out of the driveway. The three of you wave goodbye, watching them pull down the path. Madison wraps an arm around your waist as you stand there, even after they’ve driven away. 

“You gonna be okay?” She asks. You shrug.

“Just hope it’s not the end.” Emma squeezes your shoulder. 

“Even if it is, we’ll be here. And if not, if this is the door to the rest of your life, then we’ll still be here.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the two girls to pull them into a group hug. 

“Y’all want pancakes? ‘M starving.” Madison says after a moment, stepping back from the hug, and you nod as the three of you turn towards the house. Emma keeps her arm around slung around your shoulder as you walk through the creaky screen door. 

“Hey, for the record, I’m expecting my invitation to the Seresin-Bradshaw wedding.” She says and the three of you burst out into laughter, your soul feeling a little lighter. 

Maybe this was it. 

[billthedrake]

SARGE

I didn't know his first name. The town referred to him as Sarge MacAllister, but the guys on the team just called him Sarge. The man was definitely ex-Army, though possibly he rose to a rank above sergeant. After the military, he'd spent twenty solid years coaching the Jackson High Cougars to several state championship seasons. He was like a god in my hometown, and people still referred to the Sarge years of Cougar football.

The man retired several years ago but had stayed on. I think his title was volunteer coach, but his real job was to be Sarge - to remind us of the team's winning past and to inspire us to live up to it. It must have frustrated Coach Fitzgerald, our real coach, to have a competing authority figure on the team, but Sarge was hands off for the real coaching. He mostly spent time with us in the work out room or invited us to his back office for man-to-man chats. And each Friday, he'd give the rousing pep talk before we stormed out onto the football field. Fitzgerald was the brains of the team, but Sarge was its heart.

I'd been playing varsity a couple years when I found out that Sarge encouraged team morale in other ways.

"I heard about you and Kelly," Tom Stansell said as we walked back to the field house after a long, grueling practice. Tom was another linebacker and he and I were pretty tight, though maybe not good friends outside of football. "That's tough."

"Yeah, it sucks," I said. Kelly Allen was a very cute and very stacked cheerleader I'd dated through junior year. "I mean, I was the one who broke it off, but I miss pussy something bad," I added with a laugh. Like most of the guys on the team, I'd learned to be crude in talking about the girls I fucked, wanted to fuck, or just pretended to fuck.

"I hear ya," Tom said. He tended to date the smart girls rather than the cheerleader type, but he too was between girlfriends, despite being one of the most attractive, outgoing guys in the school - 6'5", muscular, and with sea blue eyes that amped up his success rate.

Tom then dropped his voice low and looked around a second before he added, "Listen, Rick... you ever think about letting a dude take care of you?"

I was shocked. Less by the idea. I mean, yes, I had thought about that idea, a lot. But more shocked that lady's man Tom Stansell was the one bringing it up. "I dunno," I replied noncommittally. "Why?"

Tom gave a casual shurg, even through his football pads. "Maybe not your thing, but men can do it better, I swear. At least when you're between chicks," he clarified. He gave me a deeper look. "If you want, bro, I can introduce you to a very good cock sucker."

A part of me worried this was a bait, a gag on Tom's part. But the way he was talking and looking at me seemed dead serious, and I knew instinctively that Stansell wasn't that good an actor.

"Yeah?" I ventured. My dick was starting to firm up in my jock strap as we got closer to the field house.

We paused and Tom nodded. "You gotta swear you'll keep it a secret. The dude could get into some trouble if people found out."

"Sure," I said, surprised how the conversation had turned from a hypothetical to agreeing to a man blowing me. This was going to happen, I felt.

Tom smiled but reasserted. "Seriously, Miller," he used my last name. "Promise me."

"I swear, man."

That's what Tom wanted to hear. He patted my shoulder. "Just follow me after practice, bro. You won't regret it."

So I did. And a sinking feeling entered the pit of my stomach as I followed Tom's car to a familiar neighborhood and a familiar house. Sarge's. He'd had the team over for end of year pool parties and now I wondered what else went on at those parties.

But any butterflies in my stomach didn't compare to how turned on I was as I got out of my car and walked over to my teammate. He had a proud look on his face, and a big smile, and he walked in kind of a jocky strut. "See why I couldn't tell ya, Miller?" he grinned.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Fuck. Is this for real?"

"For real," Tom said as he patted my shoulder again to encourage me to walk with him to the door. "Sarge is a pro at sucking cock... you'll see, man."

It was the same old Sarge who answered the door. 65, give or take, silver hair thinning now, tan, ruggedly handsome face, and all that ex-military muscle filling out his beaten-up gray T-shirt and sweat pants. I'm sure that muscle was harder twenty years ago, but it was still pretty damn impressive and if anything his granddad look made the bulk more enticing.

"Gentlemen," he greeted us, come in.

It was like the one-on-one bull sessions in Sarge's office. Open door policy, making you feel like one of the men. "Glad you could join us, Miller," he said as he gave my upper arm a quick squeeze. Like Tom, I was a few inches taller than Sarge.

"Thanks for having us, Sarge," I said, as if he was inviting us over for iced tea or something. I felt nervous and awkward but Sarge didn't seem either of those things, and that put me at ease some.

Sarge chuckled softly and gave Tom a knowing look. "Wanna enjoy the pool for a bit, Stansell?" It was as much a request as a question.

"Aye aye Sarge," Tom grinned and gave my a fist bump before walking to the back fenced in area. Sarge live in a quiet subdivision on the egde of town and had a big private fenced in back yard with a sprawling deck and a pool. Tom was already peeling off his shirt and tossing it on an empty chair. He'd clearly been coming over regularly and made himself at home.

Pretty quickly, it was just me and Sarge, in his living room. He looked at me in a friendly but quietly lusty way. "Tom told you how I help him out, right?"

I nodded. "Not the full details, Sarge, but yeah."

His gaze grew more direct. "You want me to help you out too, Rick?" Sarge almost never used my first name.

I was so nervous but I was even more horny. A lump formed in my throat as I replied. "Yeah, Sarge. That'd be great."

That made the veteran coach smile. "Why don't you show me what you got," he urged.

It took me a half second to realize what he meant. Then I started undoing my jeans and pulling them and my briefs down. My dick had a mind of its own and was pulsing rapidly toward full erection.

"Fucking nice cock, Miller," Sarge enthused, like he was complimenting me on a great catch during a game. "You been holding out on me, buddy."

I looked at Sarge. 200 and then some pounds of mature, hardened muscle, gruff man's man. But all of a sudden his bachelor ways made sense to me. "I guess," I laughed nervously. But my dick wasn't nervous. I was getting rock hard and Sarge's clear desire for me fueled my excitement.

As if time was in slow motion, the built older stud got off of his sofa and crossed over to me. His eyes were half on me, half on my cock. He gave a subtle nod then crouched down, running his hands up and down my bare legs. That felt great.

Sarge edged closer to my crotch. I watched, almost not believing this was going to happen. The man was over 45 years my senior and hot as fuck. And that gruff masculine fact looked up at me. "You don't have to hold back, Miller," he urged. "Just last as long as you like, buddy."

And with that I felt the man's lips circle the head of my cut cock. The first bobs were exploratory and shallow. I loved them, loved watching Sarge clearly excited for my cock. I guess I knew I had a decent sized tool, but this man acted like it was the most amazing dick he'd ever sucked.

Then, the blow job got better. Sarge's mouth strokes went deeper, fuller onto my prick, getting closer and closer to my pubes with each bob. This wasn't a cheerleader blowjob, this was a man who loved servicing dick and loved showing off his skills.

My breath grew short and I held on to Sarge's meaty, muscular shoulders as he got me there. "Oh fuck, Sarge... I'm gonna cum... oh fuck.... HOLY SHIT!"

My ejaculation felt like a firehose of pressure releasing the built up load in my balls. Hands down, it was the best orgasm of my years to date. Sarge bobbed up and down more frantically, milking every drop from my horny teen testicles. He seemed to know when I was getting too sensitive, too, cause he finally pulled off, resting his face about a foot from my spent hardon.

"Damn, buddy," he gurgled with cum and saliva in the back of his throat still. "That was one hell of a load." He held on to my balls, not roughly, almost lovingly. "You need to get these drained more, Miller."

I was coming down from the high of my orgasm and getting my senses back. "You offering, Sarge?” Now feeling more familiar with the grandfather figure, who I now looked at in a very different way.

The man looked up at me. Playful, but lusty. "Damn straight I am, Miller." He patted my prick once more before letting go of my genitals. "I'll take care of you again in a bit if you want. After Stansell's turn."

Damn, I'd forgotten about Tom. All of this was so wild. "Yeah?" I said. My dick surged at the idea of another BJ, but I knew it could use the rest.

Sarge winked at me, then patted my leg. I still had my T-shirt on but my jeans were pooled around my ankles. "Why don't you cool off in the pool? You can skinny dip... no neighbors to see you."

I nodded and got off of the sofa, pulling up my jeans but not zipping them up. Sarge led me back to the french door entrance to the deck, his strong hand affectionately on my shoulder the whole way. I couldn't help but notice the man's dick was stiff in his sweats now.

"Ready, Stansell?" he called out before stepping back inside.

I walked out toward the pool. Tom was treading water but swam to the edge and got out. He'd been nude in the pool, and his naked body looked pretty good as he got out. His dick was thick, thicker than mine, and was already chubbing as he walked toward me.

"How was it Rick?" he asked.

I gave my biggest grin. "Fucking incredible, man. You weren't lying."

"Cool," the linebacker said. "I might be a while. Sarge has been showing me how to edge... Kind of something he and I have been exploring lately."

"That's cool,"" I said. "Enjoy it, bro."

"I will," he said and sauntered into the big house.

I stripped down and enjoyed the cool water. In another month, it would be too cold for an outdoor pool, but then it was perfect. I didn't have a watch, but Tom must have been inside for a good thirty to forty minutes. It was almost dark when he slid open the doors and ran out to jump into the pool, like a little kid. When he resurfaced he swam over to me. "If you want seconds, Rick, Sarge is ready for you."

I felt self conscious getting out of the pool with a hardon. But I couldn't help it, thinking about what Sarge and Tom had done got me excited. And I figured Tom and I were there for sex with a man, he wouldn't be phased by me showing hard. And he wasn't. As I walked around the pool decking, Tom dove back in and started doing gentle laps.

Sarge was waiting for me, hanging out seated at his kitchen island and drinking a sparkling water. "Damn, buddy," he growled as he saw my hardon. "eager for more, aren't ya?"

"Yes, sir," I grinned.

The man pushed his stool back and turned toward me, spreading his legs. I saw that even though he had on that stretched gray T-shirt still, he was naked from the waist down. Maybe he was nervous he was going to scare me off earlier with his nakedness and was less concerned now. Turns out I loved seeing it. Sarge's crotch was thick was dark-silver fur that extended to lighter-colored hair that covered his legs. The man's dick was a solid tool, though not as big as me or Tom, nor as firm in its erection.

"Bring it here, Miller," Sarge growled, patting his legs.

I stepped forward and enjoyed being a piece of meat for the older man. His callused hands ran up and down my mostly smooth jock muscle. "The weights have been paying off, buddy," he hissed appreciatively. Even if he wasn't touching my cock, I felt the excitement there, too, almost as if he was stimulating my genitals.

I reached forward, too, in a cautious, exploratory way, and ran my hands along Sarge's arms and shoulders through the shirt cotton. I knew the man lifted regularly, cause he was there in the weight room with us guys day in and day out. But I had first hand knowledge of how solid he'd kept himself. Sarge grinned as he watched my face.

"You like that muscle, Miller?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, Sarge, I do," I replied honestly. "A lot."

The man bit his lip thoughtfully, then reached to the hem of his shirt. I stepped back a little and watched the man strip off the last of his clothing.

Holy fuck, it was an incredible sight. I didn't know until that afternoon how much I was wired for older men. Much older men. Granddad types, at least if they were like Sarge. His chest swirled with heavy silver fur and had this amazing combination of still hard muscle and rugged, sagging skin that made my cock twitch. It was a big taboo, being with a man so much older than me. I didn't lust after either of my grandfathers, but this felt almost as nasty.

I took the liberty of running my fingers through all that chest hair. That made Sarge grin up at me as he wrapped his fist around my boner, feeling first hand how turned on I was. I could tell he was surprised by how into this I was.

"You think you might be up for more than a blowie, Miller?" the man asked in a masculine gravely voice.

My heart pounded. I had an idea of what the man was suggesting, but I was still naive and new to all this. "What are you thinking, Sarge?" I asked.

He more openly stroked my dick, which was getting wetter in his palm from my precum. "I bet this bad boy would feel amazing in my ass... if you're up for that kind of thing, stud."

"God, yeah," I hissed. And like that, Sarge and I were kissing. Tongue and all. Not like a kiss with one of my girlfriends, this felt deep and crudely sexual. I loved it.

The authority figure led me back to his bedroom and I got to admire his backside, all thick and meaty. Sarge had a granddaddy ass, I'd come to realize after stroking off to mature porn over the next month, and for years after. Not quite as round and firm as a middle-aged man or younger, but somehow that allured me, too. As did the hamstrings which were underdeveloped compared to the front of his legs.

For the next twenty minutes, Sarge briefly coached me in how to prep a man's ass and how to enter him. Then he let my teen jock instinct and hormones do the rest. God, it was incredible. Sarge's guts were tight and warm and after I worked myself in, the man's insides welcomed me deep. I fucked him steadily, then harder, and was rewarded to see him stroke his own load out, a good half minute before I came inside him. We kissed softly then uncoupled.

Tom was waiting for us in the kitchen, helping himself to a beer from Sarge's fridge. He'd dried off from the pool but his hair was wet and his naked body damp.

"You showing him to edge, MacAllister?" Tom teased. It was the first time I'd ever heard a player call Sarge by his last name. It felt familiar, overly familiar even.

Sarge didn't seem to notice or be bothered. "Nah, gave Miller here the full ride," the man said. I was starting to feel self conscious being naked around Tom, but my clothes were outside. And Sarge was very open in his nudity. "If you ever wanna try, let me know, Stansell."

"I'm good Sarge," Tom grinned. "I'll stick to head." He reached down and arranged his junk. He wasn't hard but was getting there.

I watched in amazement as Sarge got down to kneel on the kitchen floor and take Tom into his mouth.

Sarge blew Tom. I watched. Tom sipped his beer and looked down, enjoying the grade-A blow job before he looked up at me. "You're real into this shit, aren't ya, Rick?"

I wasn't sure if that was a put down or not, but I answered anyway. "Yeah, I am. A lot."

Tom smiled. "That's cool. Just didn't expect it."

That made two of us. I watched Tom start guiding Sarge's slightly balding head up and down onto his hard dick, urgently coaxing the older man to get him off. I wanted to watch but worried Tom would think I was perving out on him too much. I gave him a friendly pat as I walked past to go out and retrieve my clothing.

***

I don't know how many players Sarge took care of. There was Keith White, a tight end, and our quarterback Cameron Barrett. One or both of these guys would be hanging out at Sarge's when I'd go over, in the evenings or on the weekend. Tom Stansell got a girlfriend and stopped coming, but occasionally he'd drop a lewd comment to me asking if Sarge was taking good care of me. I'd grin and say he was.

I still don't know if Sarge tapped into something that was there already, or if I got into mature men because of him. But I got into porn with older daddies. Granddaddies. Major age gaps. It was all amazing, even if none of the men were as hot as Sarge.

I was slow to put two and two together, but I saw Barrett walk out of Sarge's office as we were suiting up for the championship game. He had a familiar, freshly laid look on his face. There was no way Sarge was blowing him right here in the field house, was there?

My curiosity got the best of me. I figured we had about twenty minutes before Sarge would come out and give us our big pep talk. Telling us about Cougar pride and the killer instinct inside us. Telling us to go out there and whoop some ass.

I padded down the hall, cleats on the concrete floor. I knocked on Sarge's metal office door. The man was looking over play charts. Old habits, maybe, because Coach Fitzgerald was the one who called the plays. He looked up, brown eyes brightening as he saw me. "Come in, Miller... and shut the door."

I did as instructed, stepping in a couple of steps.

"You got the pregame jitters, Rick?" he asked, in his normal friendly coach-like tone.

"Something like that, Sarge," I said. I wasn't gonna come out and ask him for sex, not here. But I wanted to feel out if that was a possibility.

He grinned and got out of his seat. He wore a Cougars Football sweatshirt but had on a pair of coach shorts that showed off his sinewed, furry mature legs. I knew he was a week from his 66th birthday and the man could not be hotter in my eyes.

Particularly as he turned and dropped his shorts then bent over to brace himself on his desk.

"Gotta make it a quick one, today, Miller," he urged. "OK?"

"Yeah, Sarge," I hissed in lust, unlacing my football pants as fast as I could. As I pulled out my cup and fisted my cock to full hardness, I looked around. "Um, you got any stuff?" I still could be shy when it came to fucking, and for some reason asking for lube seemed too crude at the moment.

The man shook his head and held his upper body steady in a passive stance. "Barrett loaded me up pretty good just now. So I'm plenty slick for ya, buddy."

So I wasn't the only player fucking Sarge. I lined up my hardon and figured I didn't have to persuade his hole to relax. I nudged in and then pressed for full penetration.

Sarge's guts accepted me and then some. Twenty minutes before game time and I was in the saddle. Fuck.

I held onto the man's hips and replayed the granddad porn fantasies in my head. Then realized that Sarge was hotter than the fantasies so I watched his bent over body as I fucked him fast and hard. I loved it all. His broad shoulder and spread legs and silver haired head. I was getting there quick, all right.

I leaned forward and started kissing his neck and that bristly military-cut silver hair as I fucked faster to my orgasm.

"Love you, Sarge," I let out as I came, hard.

"Nice," I heard his soft masculine growl as I slowly pulled out and stood up. The man methodically grabbed a kleenex and wiped his spermed crack before pulling up those coach shorts. There was cum on the desk, Sarge's cum, and I felt a wave of pride rush through me.

At least until embarrassment set in. "Sorry, Sarge," I explained as I replaced my cup and laced up my uniform again. "Guess I got carried away."

The man gave me a knowing look, but it was almost like he felt he was the one getting carried away. He stepped up to me and placed his arms around my waist. "It's OK, Miller. I guess I'm pretty crazy about you, too," he said. We kissed, softly. This was wild and forbidden and completely right. When we kissed he patted my ass, almost like a coach more than a lover. "We'll talk about it this weekend, OK?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

The man winked. "OK, Miller... go out and knock 'em dead today. Make me proud of you, ya hear?"

I laughed. "Yessir, Sarge." I still didn't know his first name, but hopefully that weekend I would learn it.

I claimed another kiss then walked back out into the locker room, joining my teammates. Barrett shot me a smirk, but no one else noticed anything unusual.

Five minutes later Sarge strutted out, face reddened barking at his in his best Army-turned-Coach voice. "All right guys! You ready to wipe that football field with some Whtiman County ass?!"

"Yes, Sarge!" I bellowed out, in unison with my teammates.

[frogtanii]

“...suna?”

the heartbreak in osamu’s voice was clear to everyone in the room, but most of all to his brother.

though they hadn’t been close in such a long time, atsumu believed he would never forget his twin’s idiosyncrasies and the meaning underlying his words, no matter how far they drifted.

most of the members were likely to conclude that osamu’s heartbreak was coming from meiko’s obvious betrayal but atsumu knew better. meiko was a part of it, yes, but suna had been stuck by the twins’ side since birth and that was a bond that went deeper than any temporary girlfriend.

as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that hurt. the fact that osamu showed blatant pain from suna’s dramatic reveal but hadn’t shown an ounce of care as atsumu floated further and further away, stung.

they were brothers but they were also twins. they were supposed to stick together no matter what and yet...

a large, warm hand was placed on his shoulder while a smaller one weaved its way into his. when he finally took a moment to glance to his sides, he found sakusa giving him an encouraging tilt of the head and you, his angel, holding his hand tight.

you had no idea how much you meant to him, how deep his care for you ran. you didn’t know how just your presence alone soothed him in his darkest moments. how, since meeting you, he slept well at night with your face floating through his thoughts and dreams. how he hoped and prayed that you would eventually reciprocate his feelings one day.

if you’d heard his thoughts, you would absolutely call him a sap and he wouldn’t disagree. after all, it was you who made him that way.

“-ou told me you broke up with them, meiko. what, what the fuck is this? you’re dating osamu?” suna’s irritated voice jolted atsumu from his simping sappy mind and back into the present.

suna was squared up with meiko who seemed to be just as furious, while osamu stood behind the two of them at the island in shock.

“you knew what you were getting into suna, don’t fucking lie!” her manicured hands found their way to his chest before shoving him back into the living room. hard.

in an instant, yachi was standing in front of meiko with a righteous fury burning in her eyes. “go the fuck to your room. now. everyone else, you too. i have some calls to make.”

the authority in her voice had everyone scrambling, you wrapping atsumu up into your arms one final time before heading off with kenma and oikawa. suna shot the twins an apologetic smile while trailing behind their livid manager to her office.

in only a few moments, the room was empty, leaving the brothers alone in a stifled silence.

after a minute, atsumu finally opened his mouth to speak. “so. meiko, huh?” the attempt at conversation was absolutely pitiful but it managed to make the both of them laugh despite the heaviness in the atmosphere.

the lightheartedness left almost as soon as it appeared, the pair falling back into a contemplative quiet. “i- ya promised nothing would come between us,” atsumu whispered, his eyes growing glassy, against his best efforts. “what happened?”

osamu didn’t have an answer to that. he was meant to be the older twin and while that shouldn’t hold that much weight, it did.

he would never forget the day he’d given atsumu his word, the memory holding firm in his mind as though it happened yesterday.

the two of them had been so excited for their first official summer camp at the ripe age of 7 years old, happy to spend time away from their grandmother in, what they believed to be, an extended sleepover.

atsumu was bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm while osamu had been more reserved, determined to take care of his younger twin just as his grandma told him to.

after the first day of camp went by so swimmingly, osamu was starting to think he wasn’t even needed by his brother, especially after seeing him at lunch surrounded by girls and boys both fawning over him. atsumu was doing just fine on his own it seemed and there was no reason for him to stick around.

that all changed that night when osamu heard atsumu yelling for him from his bunk. the older twin raced over and climbed up into his brother’s bed, holding him close as he cried from the thunder booming outside their cabin window.

“nothing will get in between us tsumu,” osamu had murmured while rocking atsumu back and forth, “not the wind, not the rain, nothing.”

after that, their relationship was stronger than ever, the twins coming to one another for any and everything. their trust had grown so solid that osamu’s promise continued to hold true throughout the years, to the point where one was rarely seen without the other.

somehow, though, that trust had been broken in an instant, just because of one woman and it, for lack of a better word, sucked.

“i care about ya samu, ya know i do, but i can’t let ya mistreat or disrespect my best friend like that anymore. i love ya and i love her too. don’t make me choose,” atsumu before moving towards the stairs, his eyes never leaving his brother.

osamu was frozen in place, the image of atsumu that he’d painted with the help of meiko washing away to reveal his independent, assertive, kind, and caring brother whom he’d entirely lost sight of.

he couldn’t even imagine what atsumu saw when he looked at him—he didn’t think he wanted to know. all he did know was that he was no longer worthy of the title older brother, and he hadn’t been for a long time. osamu needed to become someone his brother could look up to again, someone new, someone better.

“i’m so sorry atsumu, i-i can be better,” he resolved, taking a step closer to his twin. atsumu just gave him a sad, worn smile, tiredness and disappointment written all over his face.

“be better osamu. i’ll be waiting.”

℗ poker face

be better

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ACK THIS CH GAVE ME SO MUCH TROUBLE tryna display the twins’ dynamics was so difficult, esp since i switched up the ages??? bitch i have no idea if this is even coherent lmfao m sorry besties it’s a lil bit shit but ily <33 don’t forget to feed me >:3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[suffer-my-beloved-mutuals]

Ok so this is going to be maybe a little incoherent but that’s ok!

The hachetfield trilogy is a set of three original musicals by star kid, the first is The Guy Who didn’t Like Musicals, the second is Blackfriday and the last is Nerdy Prudes Must Die, there is also nightmare time, not required viewing to understand the musicals but are definitely fun and give more lore

The first part of the series is TGWDLM in which we follow Paul a regular guy with a crush on local barista Emma Perkins, Paul as the title suggests dose not like musicals, one night a mentor crashes into the small town of hachetfield, in tgwdlm it is alluded to that hachetfield is on an island, the morning after the meteor crash their is an odd uptick in people singing which is not good for Paul, he meets up with Emma and two of his coworkers (one named Ted, he is semi important) they go to Emma’s old biology professor where it is found out that the meteor is releasing these spores and replacing people, they are drawn to music Paul gose to blow up the meteor and in the process sacrifices himself, fun bits include that Paul and Emma in seemingly every timeline end up together, also fuck clivesdale

The next is Black Friday following Tom, the brother in law of Emma (he married Emma’s now deceased sister Jane, they had a son named Tim) there is also Becky toms old girlfriend from high school, the musical takes place on Black Friday as Tom and Becky both try to get the new hot toy, tickle me wiggly, as we learn through the show Tom blames himself for Jane’s death and feels he needs to make it up to his son, along with this plot there is lex, an employee at the toy store, Hannah her younger sister with an imaginary friend named Debby and lex’s boyfriend Ethan, Ethan and lex steal a tickle me wiggly to sell to make enough money for the three of them to go to California, Hannah says webby dosent like tickle me wiggly

We learn that tickle me wiggly is actually a tool for wiggog y’wrath (shortened commonly to wiggly) a seemingly eldritch god to enter our plane of existence, he lives in the black and white (this is important) he has like a whole thing about capitalism, the song is an absolute banger, the musical ends with the mall on fire and wiggly having tricked the president into nukeing Russia causing world war 3

The final musical NPMD centers mostly around Peter (younger brother of Ted, see I said he was somewhat important!) His two friends, grace Chasity and Stephanie, the mayors daughter, Pete and his friends are terrified of Max, the stereotypical jock bully, max has it down bad for grace bc she is one of those catholic girls and as he says “forbbidon fruit” Grace feels lustful thoughts about max so she rallies the titular nerdy prudes to prank max

This does not go well

This does not go well at all

Max dies and becomes a wrathful ghost, setting out to kill the ones he blames for his death and then all he deems a nerdy prude he kills both of Pete’s friends and Grace gose mad with power? Ig? She steals a cops gun Grace Steph and Pete find out the only way to get rid of max is to get help from the lords in black using the black book, they summon the lords in black and! Wiggly is back! Yay! And his brothers are here, Nibbly, Blinky, Tinky, and Pokey (also called Otho but that’s for later!) they will only help them if one of them gives up what they cherish most for Steph and Pete, that’s each other so one of them has to die, they are very in denial about liking each other btw Steph resolves to kill Pete and max saves him? Ok Grace comes in and I kid you not fucks the ghost, thus giving up her most prized thing her Chasity, max is gone yay!

Quick spiel about the Lords in black

Wiggly or Wiggog Y’Wrath has a thing about capitalism, he is seemingly the leader of his brothers

Blinky or Bliklotep is like the eye in the magnus archives, man love watching shit that’s his deal, he has an amusement park

Tink or T’noy Kraxis my blorbo and beloved has it out for Ted and Pete (this is explained in a nightmare time episode, time basterd if you watch any of them watch that) he fucks with time and is the silliest billy also goat imagery

Nibbly or Nibblenephhim he’s hungry he eats people sometimes (my third favorite nightmare time honey queen) that’s mostly it about him he has a cult

Pokey/Otho or Pokotho he is major theatre kid energy, a narcissist and hates any voice that isn’t his own, he is blue (he is probably definitely the one who caused the musical apocalypse in tgwdlm) he has my second favorite nightmare time yellow jacket, he calls himself Otho but his brothers call him pokey

And surprise!

Webby, the sister to all these little guys she is actually real which makes one of wiggly’s lines in Black Friday even better, she is generally a benevolent character acting sorta like a guardian angel for Hannah, she is best explained in the witch in the web another nightmare time

About Hannah, Hannah is important, the lords in black pick her out a lot! This is because she is a very powerful physic, this is part of why webby protects her beif any of webby brothers got to her it’d be game over

I left out a lot because I don’t want to spoil bits if you do watch them (please do) as far as nightmare time gose the most important ones for lore are

Watchers world

Time basterd (if you watch this you gotta watch forever and always first!!! I prommy it’s worth it)

Witch in the web

Honey queen

Yellowjacket

These are all ones that are relevant to the lords in black specifically, all the other nightmare time bits are simply set in hatchetfield, I do not recommend Jane’s car it is so weird please don’t watch it

*important note, all the season one episodes are two stories in one video, for watchers world and witch in the web watch the second part of their respective episodes (episode one and three) forever and always isn’t explicitly about the lords in black but it is so much better to watch it before time basterd I promise (it’s the entirety of episode two)

Sorry this is long and rambly

Do you really want to know what the hatchetfeild trilogy is about<- extremely mentally ill about it, desperate to infodump

sure :3 i don't rly have the patience to actually get thru the shows atm but i am extremely curious as to what actually is happening there sldkkffbg