#but when you go around being a dick to everyone then uh YEAH i’m gonna make fun of you for being cringe

[kabutone]

some people are just so fucking cringe

[klausinamarink]

based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh. 

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!” 

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along. 

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage. 

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend. 

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.” 

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.” 

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all. 

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

[princessbrunette]

flirting with people that weren’t lord!rafe went against his house rules. duh. you knew that. what you didn’t realise, was that being flirted with was also a punishable offence — even though it wasn’t your fault.

maybe punishment was too dramatic of a term. but, rafe was very big on ‘sending a message’, which is exactly what he was doing as he had you totally naked— bent over the bed with his dick wedged inside you to the hilt. he pants, toned chest rising and falling as he adjusts his stance, his phone pressed to his ear.

he hadn’t said much to whoever was on the other end, but you knew from the small amounts of context given that it was him. one of rafe’s work friends had attended one of the infamous parties at tannyhill. with that, you instantly caught his attention. you were polite, not sure what to do as you assumed rafe thought highly of this man he works with, so when he was all but forcing his advances on you, perhaps you didn’t try hard enough to shoo him away. he’d grabbed you, complimented you, and when he’d pulled you onto his lap you quickly had found an excuse to get up. touching anyone but rafe did feel wrong at this point, and you’d dread to get in trouble.

his ringed hand slides slowly up your back, until he reaches the back of your neck — pushing you a little firmer against the luxurious bedsheets before slowly drawing back and grinding his cock through you. you shudder, breath hitching in your throat with a pathetic squeak and to match this a barely audible chorus of quiet, yearning moans from the doorway — rafes harem of apparent nymphomaniacs gathered to watch the show. he takes no notice of them, eyes on where you connect.

“i guess… i guess when you look the way you do everyone’s gonna want you, right? can’t really— can’t really get mad at you for that.” he addresses you this time, and you stay quiet, not wanting to step out of line. you’re drenched, walls spasming around him with enough need to drive you crazy. the pace he was going was torturous. now, rafe addresses the man on the phone.

“and you’re gonna listen to this, a’ight— gonna listen to every god damn sound. you—you know you really shouldn’t touch what’s not yours.” he drawls into the receiver as he speeds up. the bed starts to creak as rafe fucks into you, and you can’t hold back the whines and mewls that fall from you. “yeah.” he grunts out in approval as you do so.

you fuck back against him as best as you can from that position, and to reward you — he wedges his phone between his ear and shoulder and shoves a now free hand beneath you to grind his fingers against your clit as you fuck on him. your legs twitch, and you’re already getting close seeing as rafe had been working at this for ages.

“oh rafe — rafe!” you moan loudly, voice breaking and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“yeah, what’s my fuckin’ name, huh?” he picks up the phone, holding it up between you to pick you up better.

“rafe!”

“and who am i? tell him.”

“my lord!”

rafe stills suddenly, before pressing the phone back to his ear breathlessly. “you hear that? i’m her god damn lord. you touch my girl again, and i won’t be so nice alright?”

impatiently, he hangs up and tosses his phone aside before suddenly both hands are back on you and he’s putting his all in — fucking you through your orgasm and also his until it was bordering on painful.

catching his breath in the aftermath, you lay in fetal position as he sits up beside you with a cigar. rafe has one hand on your back, absentmindedly tracing your spine — and the rest of the girls had scurried off, leaving the two of you in silent solace. you brave a question through a cracked, broken voice.

“why didn’t he just hang up the phone?” it’s barely a whisper as you roll over to face rafe, looking up at him through sticky eyelashes. he stares ahead, nonchalantly shrugging one shoulder with downturned lips.

“uh, he just didn’t have the hands to do that anymore i’m afraid.”

you get a weird sinking feeling in your stomach, now piecing together that this man wasn’t willingly on the phone to rafe, more so being forced by his goons. you sit up a little on your elbow, eyeing him.

“rafe, did you hurt him?”

you sound so innocent, he can’t help but chuckle.

“no, uh— i didn’t.”

you decided not to ask anymore questions.

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Tainted Love

Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Summary: You meet Ethan at a Halloween party Chad invited you to and start to become close to him, when the truth is later then revealed of his family’s plan. Was your relationship ever real or was it all a lie?

Warnings: Mature themes and language, mentions of sex, death, non-con, sub and dom trope, sexual scenes

18+ is recommend for this story, read at your own risk ⚠️

Songs for reading: All Mine;Brent Faiyaz, The Devil in I;Slipknot, Heartless;The Weeknd, Change;Deftones, Often;The Weeknd, Daddy Issues;The Neighbourhood

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were on your way to a Halloween party that one of your best friends, Chad, invited you to. At first you were hesitant due to it being almost 11pm at night and you had class in the morning at 9, but you decided you would go because you haven’t seen Chad and Mindy since they moved away almost 2 years ago. Since you weren’t planning on doing anything for Halloween, you didn’t have a costume and thanks to chad telling you last minute about the party, you didn’t have time to buy anything. You decide you would just put on your old cheer costume from high school and add some fake blood, to make it more Halloween like.

When you arrived at the party, Mindy introduced you to her friend Tara and girlfriend Ankia. You were happy she finally was able to settle down with someone. You took a couple shots after and made you way over to Chad who you spotted talking to someone in a knight costume.

“Hey Chad, long time no see” you said to him, catching the attention of both him and the cute guy next to him you realized.

“Y/n, omg you actually came”

“Of course, anything to see my best friend, I’m still mad at you guys for leaving me, high school sucked without you”.

Chad gave you a long awaited hug and you tilted your head up to see the guy looking at you. “Who’s this?" you asked.

Chad looked back, “oh yeah this is Ethan my roommate”, he looked over at Ethan, “and this is y/n, my best friend, we grew up with each other before we moved away”

“Hey it’s nice to met you, Ethan” you smiled at him

“Uh- yeah you too” he scratched his head and held out his hand to you. You shook it and looked into his eyes.

“Shy?” You asked, he blushed and quietly laughed, while looking at his feet.

After the three of you talked for a while, Tara stole Chad away, leaving you and Ethan alone. You took the chance to get to know him a little better, when someone bumped into you spilling their drink all over you,

“Hey what the fuck!” you groan out, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom and try to get some of this off” you told Ethan,

“Yeah of course, uh- did you need some help”

You smiled at him, “No I should be ok, I’ll be right back”

You finished in the bathroom and just as you were about to leave you ran straight into your ex.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He asked.

“None of your business”, you went to walked around him, but he pushed you back into the bathroom against the wall.

“What are you doing, let me go Leon?!”

He responded by lifting your skirt up, “Aw but baby I missed you so much, let’s just have a little fun”, he smirked at you.

“This doesn’t sound fun to me” you replied glaring at him.

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch Y/n, just be the good little whore that you are, and take this fucking dick”, he said gripping you hair as he slammed you back against the wall

Tears started to form in your eyes. Was your ex boyfriend, someone that you use to love and care for, really about to rape you in some bathroom at a party?

You tried to get out of his grasp, but he was too strong and no one could help you, everyone here was either to drunk to notice or high to care. You stood there, starting to accept your fate, when a person in a ghost face mask busted through the room, stabbing Leon in the back, you screamed out, Leon falling to the floor, while the killer started to repeatedly stab him over and over again, not knowing what to do, your flight or fight took in and you darted down the hall, not looking back.

You ran all the way back to your dorm and locked the door, you started to think that maybe you had too many drinks, this couldn’t be real, could it??

A week later, there was news of the recent ghost face killings, you met up with the group on campus and told them everything. Mindy was explaining who it could be, when you caught Ethan looking at you. He turned his head quickly, saying something about "dying a virgin". You were surprised at this considering how good looking he was.

After the meeting, Sam ordered that everyone stay at her apartment. You were on the couch next to Ankia, when you heard a bang coming from Quinn’s room. Everyone got up, when the door was shot open and Quinn fell out, ghost face was right behind her. He went after Ankia and stabbed her in the side, so you took the nearest item and hit him in the head. He fell back, which gave you time to get Ankia to safety. You accidentally tripped when getting to the room, ghost face right behind you. He caught up to you, tackling you down to the ground.

He got on top of you, straddling you. He didn’t do anything, just stared at you, was this the same ghost face that killed Leon? After a moment, he got up off you and ran to get the others, you laid there in shock, why didn’t he kill you?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had been a week since Ankia was killed by ghost face, since then you and Ethan started seeing each other more and more, you started to really like him and tonight you wanted to take things further.

When you arrived to his dorm, Chad was already gone, perfect you thought.

You closed the door behind you, and wasted no time, kissing him. He was surprised but returned the kiss. You lead him over to the couch and push him on it, getting on top of him and straddling him. You trailed your hand up his chest, stopping your hands when they got to his neck. You wrapped your hands around his neck and started to grind on him, you could feel him starting to get hard, turning you on even more.

“Y/n” he rasped out, “I really like were this is going and I really like you obviously,” he pointed to his boner, “but I need to ask you something before we start anything” he looked at you.

“Your right I’m sorry I kinda just busted in here and took action, I’ve been really stressed out lately, with the deaths and everything” you paused, “and I know that you never done this before and I would love to be your first if you want... so you don’t have to die a virgin” you added.

He laughed, “of course I want to, it’s just-” he paused, getting nervous, “I- I really like you and I just- I mean- will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

You smiled at him, “I really like you too, of course I’ll be your girlfriend” you kissed him. “So can I ride you now?” You asked.

He blushed, “yea-yes”

You trail you hands down to his pants, starting to unzip his jeans. He shudders watching your moments.

“Don’t worry about anything Ethan, let me take care of you” you told him. You freed him from his jeans and moan at the sight of him, he was so big, you dropped to your knees and looked at him,

“I want you to fuck my mouth, he groan, and does as you asked, putting his dick in your mouth.

“fuck your mouth feels so good” he moans out, “y/n, I can’t- I’m gonna- please mommy”.

You look up at him..did this man just call you mommy? Not that you were complaining.

You get off the floor and straddle him again. You lower yourself on top of him, adjusting to his size, starting to move, he grabs a hold of your hips.

“Wait, please fuck- I just need a minute, because if you start moving again, I’m going to cum right now”

You laugh at him, “Do I make you feel that good baby?”

“So much better than good, your so fucking hot”

You start to move again after a minute, ridding him like your life depends on it. Ethan is moaning and groaning under you, his hands never leaving your ass.

You can tell he’s getting close, “I want you to cum in me, I’m on the pill” you tell him.

He grabs your throat pulling you closer and kisses you hard, you moan into the kiss.

Ethan then flips you over on the couch and starts fucking into you, “Ethan” you cry out. Where did he gain this confidence all of a sudden?

He fucks into you faster, “Tell me your mine Y/n, all fucking mine”

“Im yours Ethan” you cry out.

“No one, will ever fuck you as good as I can, you're all mine baby, all fucking mine” he slaps your ass, making you jolt upwards.

After a while you both reach your climax.

You both lay there when you're done, him holding you like you're going to leave him. He looks up at you, “I think I’m falling in love with you Y/n”.

You smile at him, “So do I”.

After cuddling for a little longer, you both get up and put your clothes back on. Ethan tells you he is going to take a shower, so you head to his bedroom, thinking you will just lay on his bed and wait for him. When you go inside you find a duffel bag on his bed, a mask peaking out of it, you look closer and start to make it out, you gasped..it was the ghost face mask.

You go closer and open the bag finding the outfit and a knife, with a list of your friend's names.

Ethan was ghost face, he killed Ankia and Leon. This was why the ghost face didn’t hurt you cause it was him the whole time.

You pull out your phone, deciding to call the cops, when Ethan appears in the doorway.

“Y/n?” You look at him, as he looks over your shoulder, seeing the bag. Fuck what were you going to do?

“Did you look through my bag?” He asks.

You lie, “No, I just came in here”

He steps closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist, “I know you saw, you know the truth now” he continues, “so what are you going to do about it?”

You look at him “Ethan, you-.., why are you doing this? Please just stop this now and we can forget about it”.

“But I can’t stop, it’s in my blood”... He explains..

“You don’t understand, I have to do this for my family, you're either with me or against me”

“And what if I’m against you, are you going to kill me?” You ask him.

“Of course not baby, I love you. I’ll just have to tie you up and keep you here, if I can’t trust you to keep this a secret” he looks at you.

This isn’t the Ethan you knew, the shy, goofy, nerd that just asked you to be his girlfriend.

“You're my girlfriend now, you can’t leave me..you said you were all mine Y/n”. He adds.

“That was before I knew you were killing my fucking friends Ethan!” You yell at him.

He grabs you, throwing you on the bed. He takes your hands, pinning them against the headboard.

“Like I said Y/n your either with me or against me and right now, it seem like your against me, so I hate to do this, but your not leaving me” he ties your hands to the headboard.

“Ethan please, you don’t have to do this, you said you love me, this is not what you do to people you love!” You cry out.

“Sometimes you hurt the ones you love, in order to keep them safe” he says starting to get up.

“Wait, Ethan you can’t just leave me here..Ethan please” You beg tears starting to fall onto your cheeks.

He comes over to you and kisses you on your lips.

“It will all be over soon Y/n” he says, grabbing his duffel bag and leaving to finish his duties.

[crazyk-imagine]

Ruined Relationships, but the Love is There

Pairing: Mark Sloane x Ex-Girlfriend!reader

Characters: Mark Sloane, Ex-Girlfriend!reader, Kara Sloane, Jackson Avery, April Kepner, Meredith Grey, Christina Yang, Derek Sheppard, George O'Malley, Owen Hunt, Addison Montgomery (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cheating, adultery, ooc peeps, minor cursing, drama (what else would you expect), like a lot of drama, near death experience, classic grey's things going on here, cheating, bad relationships, mentions of pregnancy, keeping children hidden from father, car accidents, reader is a doctor, everyone is in kahoots, Christina is into beating, Meredith and Derek are cute, Bailey is great as always, George is here and lives, no mentions of Izzie or Alex, friendships between Mark and Meredith, plus Mark and Christina, Christina is a secret romantic at heart

Word Count: 4,593

A/N: I feel like everyone is ooc but idc bc I love this fic

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You ignore him, praying to whatever god is listening to keep him away from you.

Meredith and Christina notice the tension in your shoulders, sharing a look.

“You know I don’t care about a lot of people but, are you okay?” the curly haired female asks.

You shrug, acting as if nothing has changed. “I’m fine, why?”

Meredith chimes in. “You’re looking a little-“

“Squirrely?”

“I was gonna go with tense but squirrely works.”

You huff through your nose, “would you two shut up.” You hand the clipboard back to your favorite nurse, Marjorie. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You spin around and walk out, not looking back.

Derek shakes his head, watching you basically run out of the hospital.

Mark glances behind him, not finding who he wanted and sighs. He looks up to see his friend and offers a small wave.

The ferry boat lover nods to acknowledge him.

The plastic surgeon bids the others goodbye and stands in front of the doors, thinking about everything that led him here.

You drive past him without realizing it as he thinks of your face when you caught him in bed with Addison.

His eyes trail on the car, wishing he could see you again and not just glimpses.

-

You roll your eyes and walk away across the bridge, not caring how unprofessional you look. “I’m not talking to you.”

He picks up his pace, following after you. “Please just-“

You scoff, spinning around to face him, “no, I tried before. I did and then,” you lean forward poking him in his chest, “you decided to stick your dick in someone else. Someone who was married and oh, yeah, not your girlfriend.” You cross your arms, “so, excuse me for not being particularly excited at the sight of you.”

“Fiancé.”

You blink once, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“I was,” he gulps. "I was going to propose to you that night.” He pulls the little black box out of his pocket, handing it to you.

”Before or after you screwed Addison,” you bitterly add, staring at the box. If you open it, that's giving him hope.

"I- she came to me and-“

You scoff hard enough for the vibrations to scratch your throat for a few seconds. “I cannot believe this- you- you think it’s okay to just- I’m done.”

“Please don’t,” he begs, eyes getting glossier the more you talk. “Don’t say it.”

Your bottom lip wobbles, removing your gaze from him. “I’m done with this, with us, and you. Now, you get to deal with the guilt. If you have any at all.” You slam the box in his hand and walk away.

Nothing could have prepared anyone at the hospital for this.

You know they’re all looking at you and it pisses you off. “What are you looking at?!”

Christina does damage control, stopping everyone from getting your wrath.

-

Meredith finds him in the on-call room, she was hoping to nap before joining in on a surgery but seems like the universe had other plans. ”You uh- okay?”

He fiddles with the box, staring at the diamond that taunts him. “Does it look I’m okay?”

She shrugs, “not really but it’s better than admitting you were stupid for messing things up with her.”

“My mistake brought Derek to you, didn’t it?”

“Why are you here?”

“If I go to Joe’s I’m going to sleep around, proving her point.”

“And staying here?”

“I don’t know where else to go. Derek is still upset with me, and I don’t blame him, but I know he loves you and I don’t need to hear a speech from him. I’m not ready for him to tell me I messed up more than any of us want to admit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” He asks, finally looking up from the ring. “I was scared.”

“To,” she gestures to the ring.

“That and be a husband.”

“You weren’t scared of asking, it was the commitment that got you, I can understand it.”

“No, no," he shakes his head. "I didn’t think- I knew I wouldn’t be a good husband. I- everyone only saw the bad, my parents, Derek at times but she didn’t. She never did and that’s why I,” he lets out a tearful chuckle, “that’s why I fell for her. She saw the good no one else did and I screwed it up.”

Meredith hands him a tissue.

“You tell anyone about this, and I’ll let you observe one of my surgeries beside me.”

“I wasn’t but if you’re offering.”

The two chuckled.

-

Christina owlishly blinks, watching as you work on your last patient for the day as if nothing’s happened.

“How can she just put it all behind her?” George questions, sitting beside her.

“Having a nervous breakdown earlier in the day helps.”

“I feel like there should be someone sitting between us.”

The future cardiologist shrugs, “suit yourself.”

“You’re going to check on her after she’s done, right?”

“I’ll talk to her, if she opens up, good for her.”

A smile dances across his lips, happy that someone’s going to check on you; he likes you and admires your work, knowing you could be someone as well-known as Ellis Grey.

-

“Can you teach me your sutures?”

You ignore her and finish checking over your charts. “Yours are fine. Tell me the real reason you're bugging me.”

She purses her lips, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Are you okay?”

“You really want to know?”

She hesitates to nod. “I… do.”

“It sucks. Everything just… sucks. I don’t want to be here, but this is the only place that makes me feel calm.” You hand Marjorie the chart, smiling at her before returning to Christina. “I’m going to get through this. He’s going to find a nice girl and have the family he always wanted while I’ll still be here.”

“He’s going to go through girls like I go through tequila.”

“I know,” you grab your bag. “Which is why I know he’ll finally find his girl.”

She follows you until you reach the door. "What if it's you?"

A sad smile stretches across your lips. "He lost her."

”Forever?”

You shrug.

The resident stands there, unsure of what to do now.

-

You glance in his direction, wondering how many women he’s going to write down on the sheet. You hand yours back to Bailey, “I keep my life outside of work, unlike some people.”

Mark inwardly groans.

Bailey avoids making eye contact with him, she can’t continue to feel bad for him when he’s the one who messed things up (from what you told her).

You walk past the new residents, not in the mood to deal with them, especially with the girls fawning over Mark.

-

You sit down and watch his surgery, listening to the way he talks down to them.

You always told him he needs to slow down and be kind to them or else they won’t respect him but with everything that’s happened, you assume he’s a little bitter.

He always knows when you're watching and composes himself, but he can’t help and snap at the newbie (you don’t need to be talked about as if you’re a piece of meat). He glances up, catching your gaze.

You gulp, finding his soft expression he only used for you.

Everyone turns to you.

Two of the girls in orange start gossiping beside you.

“I have charts to look over. Come with me?” George asks.

You nod, finding it hard to keep your gaze off him but do so, only to inform the girls of some key information. “Keep talking like that and you two won’t find yourself off bedpan duty for a few months. Don’t talk about your superiors like that again."

The young faced one eyes widen and her face pales at your threat.

Mark can’t help but smirk behind his mask, always loving it when you straightened people out, if it was necessary.

-

"I see you two still aren’t talking.”

“Shut up, George.”

“Right, yeah. Got it.”

-

You try and ignore him again, which is when Derek steps in. “You should talk to him.”

“I know you two are all buddy buddy now, but I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like he didn’t break my heart in two. So, excuse me for ignoring your best friend."

He stops in front of you. “I need you to stop, think about this. What if you two don’t make amends and something happens? How would you feel? Think about how he would feel?”

“We’d be depressed, but eventually get over it, maybe be slutty for a few months and that’s the end of it.”

“That’s not a healthy way of dealing with your feelings and you know it.”

“I don’t care if it’s healthy or not. I have issues and I deal with them my way.”

“If you’d talk to him, maybe you’ll feel better.”

You roll your eyes and head into the prep station before you two head into surgery.

-

Bailey rolls her eyes, reaching for your phone. “Your phone keeps buzzing, doctor.”

You sigh, “does it look important?”

She leans closer, whispering, “it’s about your daughter.”

“Daycare or babysitter?”

“Babysitter. Fever, wants her mom.”

You take a deep breath and lean over to talk to your friend, “doctor Bailey’s going to take over. I need to go.”

“You’re leaving in the middle of a surgery?”

“I have to take care of something.”

“What?”

“My daughter.”

The staff in the OR got quiet, no one observing said anything.

You didn’t see the lights until it was too late.

-

“We got one adult in critical condition. One child with a minor bruising.”

Bailey and Owen are the first to arrive.

The woman’s eyes narrow to the familiar baby in Matt’s arms.

Owen steps forward. “What happened?”

“Car accident. Drunk ran a red light. Drivers side took more of the impact.”

“We need to get her checked out now.” The redhead pushes himself through, taking over one of the rooms. He tells the interns and fresh residents to prep a surgical room and put Christina on babysitting duty, leaving Jackson to follow him and Callie into the OR.

“I heard there was an accident,” Mark says, standing in the doorway. “I wanted to see if you needed any assistance?”

Callie glances at her ally in the room. “No, you should go check on Derek. I think I heard him calling for you.”

“When did he-"

“She’s coding,” Jackson interrupts.

“Crap! Avery, push one of epi.”

Everyone in the room prays for it to work and you to come back.

“Let me help,” he takes a step forward before being called away by one of the nurses.

-

He takes a sip of coffee, goes over the notes and overhears a few residents gossiping. His head whips in their direction. "Where'd you hear that?” He asks them, not accepting their answers.

They freeze. "Where did you hear that? Is she here?"

The group of residents’ glances at one another, unsure of what to say. "Who told you she's here?"

April had never worked with Mark before and seeing how freaked out he was over someone who wanted almost nothing to do with him, she felt bad; if someone she was in love with was hurt or worse, she'd want to know. "We- we saw her come in. They-"

He doesn't listen to anything else and takes off, running past Christina, who coddles the tear eyed, red faced toddler in her arms.

-

He runs straight towards Meredith, who's talking to Owen. "Where is she?"

The red head takes a step foward. "She's in surgery-"

"What room?"

"Sloan, you know I can't-"

He grabs Owen's scrubs by the collar and pulls him close. "I need to see her. I can't be here, waiting to see if she's dead or not. Tell me where she is."

The ex-vet slowly reaches for the man's hands. "Mark, I need you to calm down."

"How can I calm down when I just found out my fiancé is in surgery?"

-

Meredith takes a seat beside him, slumping against the wall, offering him a snack.

He shakes his head, closes his eyes and resting his head against the wall. "Have you heard anything?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I don't even know where she is."

"I just- what am I going to do if she's really-"

"Don't talk like that. She's not one to give up. She's-"

"A fighter?"

"Yeah."

Christina turns the corner, eyes wide. "Meredith?" She spots the two of them and runs towards them, inadvertently introducing your daughter to her father. "Mer. Mer. I need your help."

"Where did you get a baby?" She pushes herself off the floor. "Why do you have a baby?"

"Bailey put me on Kara duty and she won't stop crying."

"Whose baby, is it?"

That's when things got awkward.

Meredith's eyes widen, "no."

She nods.

Mark opens his eyes, glancing up. His eyes stop on the little girl, who glances his way.

She reaches for him. "Dada."

No one knew what to do.

"Oh my god," the two women muttered.

He pushes himself off the floor, staring at her. There's no mistaking it, she has your features, but she's got his eyes.

The little girl fusses in the woman's arms.

Mark easily slides her into his, his daughter settles into his arms, staring at him with those wide, curious eyes. "Mama?"

He gulps, "we have to wait a little bit before we see mama, okay?"

She nods and lays her head down on his chest.

He closes his eyes to keep his tears at bay, kissing the top of her head.

-

"She still loves you," Christina tells him.

He keeps his gaze on his girls and hums. "When you showed her the ring, she didn't say it was officially over for you two but she's still heartbroken over you and Addison getting together."

"I was getting ready to leave."

"What?"

"I grabbed my jacket and made sure I had the ring. I was- I wanted that night to go perfectly but then I opened the door, and she was there." He sighs.

"She let herself in and I tried to get her to leave but she wouldn't and then she kissed me. I told her I couldn't because I was about to become a proud married man," he bitterly chuckles.

"I told her no and she got upset because she knew she could always run to me but when she knew she couldn't anymore, she decided she wanted to love me. The way I wanted her to when we were younger. I accepted it, you know."

The woman nods.

"I accepted the fact that she chose Derek. He was a good choice."

"He was a safe choice, and she knew that."

Mark nods, "yeah and that's why I... tried to warn him before he proposed."

"You tried to warn him?"

"He's my best friend, I couldn't let him go into a marriage that was going to hurt him."

She chuckles, "that's ironic."

"Shut up, Yang."

"Go on."

"I gave into her because a part of me was scared- scared I was going to hear the rejection. No, I can't marry you because..."

"You're a manwhore?"

"Baby present and, yes. I didn't want my past to define my future but then, it did, and she left with Derek."

"Do you think Derek knew about," Christina gestures to the baby in his arms.

"Probably. I'm not happy I missed it but at least I know she had someone who could take care of her."

"Are you ever going to tell her?"

"If she'll listen."

Her pager beeps.

"Go, Yang. I'm not leaving."

Derek nods and steps into the room.

"You hear all that?"

His friend shrugs, "only the good parts."

"Funny."

"She was going to tell you before... everything happened but then she needed to get away and I did too-"

"So, she left without saying anything."

"If it means anything, she wrote a journal throughout the entire pregnancy, in case she passed, and Kara wanted to know about her mom."

He can tell by Mark's expression; he needs to explain.

"She was stressed throughout the entire pregnancy, and it was cause for concern. She had a few fainting spells and needed to stay home for a while. The doctor was making it seem like if she even went to the bathroom, she was going to lose Kara which scared her more than leaving you."

"Why?"

"If she lost Kara, it meant losing a piece of you which would have made her feel like it was officially over for the two of you."

Your heart monitor beeps. "Derek?"

His friend calms you down, checking you over before whispering that Mark and Kara are in the room.

You slowly turn your head, spotting them.

The father of your child smiles, relieved to see you awake. "Hey."

You spot your little girl tucked into his neck and tear up. You bring your hand up to your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape.

Mark gestures for your guys' friend to exit so he can talk to you. He slowly pushes himself out of the chair, adjusting to the little girl. "Hey, hey," he brushes the few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb rubbing agaist your hairline. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be. I'm just- I'm happy you're okay."

"I wanted to call you so many times."

"I know."

"I wanted you to be there."

"Where?"

"In the room," you whisper, staring into his eyes. "I didn't want her to be away from you but-"

He nods. "I know, I messed up. If I didn't- if it didn't happen, we could have been a family, and I will forever be sorry because you went through it alone."

Hearing your voice alerts the little girls’ ears and she squirms in his grasp.

He sets her feet on the open area near your arm, letting her turn around and launch herself into your arms. "Mama!"

"Oh, my sweet baby." You kiss the side of her head. "Mama missed you."

His heart swells at the sight of you two.

-

A few days later and you feel okay enough to be sent home.

You bid your goodbyes to everyone, even the newbies because they were nice enough to check in on you and make sure everything was okay. You step outside and take a deep breath.

"What do you think you're doing?"

A quiet moment ruined by your ex.

"I'm breathing, Mark. Can I do that, or do you need to make sure the weather's just right?"

He chuckles before getting out of the car. "You know your doctor gave you strict orders, I think you should be following them but that's just me."

You stare at him with a deadpan expression. "I got it, Mark. I know what I need to do, don't try and patronize me."

"I would never."

-

The residents huddle together, watching the two of you.

"How much do you want to bet that they're going to get back together?" Christina asks.

Jackson nods, "I'll take that bet."

Meredith stares at the two of them.

"You two are awful," April adds.

"Yes, but we'll be bad people with money," the future cardiologist tells her with a sarcastic smile.

Derek stops at the desk, taking a sip of his coffee before making his way to the group. "Okay, if we're all done gawking at two grown adults trying to move past their differences, can we get back to work?"

"You're no fun. I remember when you were having fun."

"You want to scrub in on my surgery, Dr. Yang?"

"Let's go have fun. See yah, Mer."

-

You make it through the door of your place and wait for it. "Say it."

"What?" He closes the door, setting the stroller by the door as he unbuckles Kara.

"I know you're judging, so, out with it. I'm not going to pretend as if you don't want to say something because you do."

"I don't," he notices the look you're giving him. "I... like it."

"You hesitated even finishing that sentence."

"I did not."

"Did too."

"Mama!"

You two glance down at the little girl, wanting attention and out of her father's grasp. You gently take her from him and wander into the kitchen, scouring through the cabinets to figure out what kind of things you could have as a snack.

This is what he wants, he wants this life: the one where you're not mad at him, and he can watch his daughter grow while you look amazing at being a mom.

He gulps down what little saliva he has in his mouth and takes a hesitant step closer to you. "What are we feeling?"

You hum, "I don't know, little miss here can't decide on what she wants."

"I can make something," he meekly offers, unsure if this is too much or not.

"What can you make? Last time I checked all you knew was protein smoothies and even then, that wasn't the best."

He scoffs, "I know how to cook, and you know it. You forget who made you dinner for our second date."

You open your mouth to respond but don't have it in you when you think about the good times you two had. Your gaze drops.

He feels bad but he can't pretend as if your romantic past doesn't exist. "I was so worried I messed up with that dinner."

"Really?"

"Of course, I was cooking for the most beautiful girl within a five-mile radius of my house. I was more than nervous."

"Good."

-

You step out of the room and start cleaning up, only for Mark to stop you and grab everything you pick up.

"I told you not to do anything. I got this."

You lean over the couch and watch him wander around your place. "Do you..."

"What?" He glances up, staring at you with kind eyes, wanting to hear what you have to say.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if it didn't happen?"

"I know we'd be married with at least one other kid now."

"I'm serious."

"I don't want to focus on the past."

You scoff, rolling your eyes.  "Says the man who always wanted to ask about my exes."

-

You don't even know how it happened but here you are. You pull away, needing to breathe before continuing.

"Are you sure about this?"

You stare into his eyes, for what feels like an eternity. "I'm sure. I want this. Please," you beg.

His lips curve upwards, "who am I to deny you a fun time?"

You keep him at arm’s length, "that comment makes me want to rethink this whole thing."

"No, it doesn't."

You grumble and pull him back in for a kiss.

Meredith immediately closes the door, regretting not checking before opening. "Seriously you guys?"

You reach for your shirt and cover your mouth to hide your giggles, Mark turns to you with a smirk. "How do you know we weren't trying to invite you?"

"Because you know better."

Your eyes widen.

"Hey, Bailey," he says with a cool tone.

"You two better be out of there in the next five minutes or-"

You open the door and run past the two. "See yah, Bails. See yah, Mer."

Mark stays there flabbergasted at how quickly you ran out the door, leaving him to deal with her.

-

He closes the door just as you finish making dinner. "You are evil."

You stick your bottom lip out, "I don't think so, I made dinner. I'm going to be feeding you, I'd consider that to be something nice."

"You left me to deal with that- that woman alone."

"I left you with Bails, you were fine."

"I was not fine. I was far from fine."

You click your tongue, "stop exaggerating."

"I'm not and you know it."

"Okay," you groan. "I'm sorry. I left you with Bailey and that wasn't nice."

"It wasn't." He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest.

"I said sorry, don't be like this."

"I think I'm going to need a little more in order to forgive you."

You lean into him as you settle into his arms.

The monitor goes off and you're brought back to the reality of you being in the arms of your ex.

You push yourself out of his grasp and walk towards her room. "Hey, pumpkin."

She holds her arms out for you.

You pick her up, "how's my little baby?"

She babbles a response. "Dada?"

"He's still here, checking on dinner. Your favorite."

"Maccheese!"

You chuckle, "yeah."

"There's my favorite girl," he smiles at the happy little girl.

You observe the way they interact with a heavy heart, knowing you can't continue doing this with him.

-

"What happened?" Christina asks, practicing new sutures on a banana.

"Nothing happened-"

"You're not sleeping with McSteamy, something happened."

"I just- I realized we need to not fall back into old habits."

"Do you still love him?"

You hesitate to answer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Of course, of course I still love him, but I can't be in love with him-"

"Because he was an adulterous whore?"

"Yeah."

"Have you seen him with anyone else?"

"I didn't need to see anything if all the girls talked about him?"

"Did you ever think maybe they lied? Maybe they're jealous of the fact that you have a hot guy fawning over you and only you. What else would they do other than gossip?"

"How am I supposed to believe that?"

"Have you ever talked to him?"

"I'm scared."

"So is he."

"I don't want to get hurt again."

"He wouldn’t want to lose you again."

"Christina?"

"Yeah?"

"You're wise beyond your years."

-

You run to him, pulling him into the break room.

He attempts to get up. "Shut up and let me talk."

You take a deep breath, "I want to be with you, like we were before but we're not those people anymore. And- and I want you to be in Kara's life so you can watch her grow up but this," you gesture between the two of you.

"This can only work if we're honest and you don't leave me for a quick lay or else, I will put you in an OR and change things about you. I will not put myself or Kara on the line if you're not going to give us your all."

He nods, taking in everything you've said. He pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you and pulls you in for a hug. "I'm never letting you go," he mumbles into your hair. "Living without you was the worst time of my life."

Mark pulls away, cupping your cheek, staring into your eyes. "If you let me into your lives, I promise not to mess it up because you two are too important to me and I don't know if I'd be able to live without you."

You sniffle, chuckling at his dorky smile. "Then don't be an idiot and kiss me."

-

"Finally," Christina turns around, pointing to everyone. "You all owe me money."

"Us."

"You owe Mer and I money."

Derek makes his way towards them. "What are we looking at?" He smiles, "good, it's about time he got his act together."

[cinnnamongrl]

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 5- final part)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: final part of this fic. you can find part 4 here.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, top!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering, oral sex, strap-on sex (all r!receiving), ellie refers to the strap as her dick 💯, praise. i think that’s it!

author’s note: final part! here she is! i’ve had so much fun writing this series, hope u enjoy <3

a relaxed comfortable silence clouded over the eta house living room. for everyone else at least. for you and ellie the silence was full of tension, regret, and apologies that sat on the tongue but were stopped by your egos. you felt bad for leaving her dorm after yesterdays fight. ellie felt bad for letting you leave. avoiding each other wasn’t an option when you were in a sorority together, but part of you was glad you were being forced to see ellie despite how awkward you felt.

“EW” madison’s voice broke the peaceful quiet of the living room. “what?!” chloe asked. “i just tried that old person filter on tiktok and i look BUSTED” a few girls moved over to look at madison’s phone and laughed, moving their heads to the middle of the screen so the filter could take effect. you watched on from the sofa, knees brought up to your chest. ellie was watching you; she was frustrated, less at the situation now and more at not being able to sit next to you and put her arms around you. it was an extra blow that just as everyone found out about you, you couldn’t touch or kiss anymore anyway.

“ellie, you try!” emilia took madison’s phone and hopped over to ellie, sitting down next to her to show her the filter on herself. ellie gave a dry laugh and emilia giggled, screenshooting the screen, “that’s what you’ll look like when you’re 60!” chloe got up and took the phone from emilia and showed the screenshot to you “are you still gonna be into her when she looks like this?” she joked. you exhaled in an awkward attempt at a laugh, not really knowing what to say with ellie looking right at you. you noticed emilia rolling her eyes. chloe took the phone from your face, “oh- are you guys not cool anymore?” you looked at ellie who was looking down at her lap. “oh we thought cause you kissed you were like, dating or whatever” madison spoke. “did you break up because of the campus news thi-“ “guys can we change the subject-“ emilia interrupted, “-i’m sure they don’t want everyone going on about some stupid kiss in an alleyway!”

a moment passed.

“an alleyway?” chloe asked. ellie’s head shot up. then yours. you stated at each other. a million words passing between you but none actually spoken. “how do you know it was in an alleyway?” chloe elaborated. you didn’t miss the way emilia’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “it’s- uh- i’m just guessing!” she stumbled. brittney watched the way you and ellie stared in shock at each other and she stood from the sofa. “everybody out.” all the girls looked towards her. “i’m serious everyone out, i have stuff to do.” everyone got up to walk away, emilia grabbing her bag and making a quick walk towards the door. “except emilia.” brittney spoke. “i need your help with something.” emilia stopped in her tracks and turned back around, looking extremely uncomfortable. your brain was barely processing what was happening as you walked out of the eta house. ellie was right behind you and she put a hand on your back as you stepped away from the house, “hey, are you okay?” you looked at her and blinked a few times. “yeah… i think so? just in shock.” ellie nodded, “do you want to come back to my dorm? you can say no i understand if-“ “yes please.” neither of you said a word on your way to her dorm. as you sat on her bed with crossed legs, she had placed herself sitting by you, back leaning against the wall against her bed.

“so emilia huh?” ellie broke the silence. “yeah, but… why?” you twisted your body towards her. “beats me” ellie replied. “but uh, hey at least you know who to go to to try and get it removed” she added. all the regret from yesterday paired with the craziness of what just went down at the eta house was feeding you the courage to put all the complicated shit aside and just do something for yourself. “i don’t want to get it removed.” ellie frowned at you, “what do you mean?” you shuffled closer to her, sitting on your legs “i don’t care about the feature. i was being stupid and scared but i’m not gonna be stupid and scared anymore. i’m sorry. i’ll email it to my parents if you want, honestly-“ ellie laughed and put both hands on your upper arms shushed you, “shh baby, it’s ok. i don’t need you to email it to your parents. it was never about that-“ you were breathing heavily from your outburst, listening to her talk “-i just wanted to know you really liked me. and were… serious about things. ‘cause i’m obsessed with you.” she finished. a small laugh bubbled from your chest and your eyes started to water, all the emotion from the past few days catching up on you.

“i do really like you els. i’m sorry for caring so much about what my parents think and about the campus news feature, i just...” a tear rolled down your cheek and ellie moved closer to wrap her arms her arms around you “‘s ok, angel. i’m sorry i was being pushy; i know your parents put a lot of pressure on you and i don’t want to make you feel rushed to come out or anything like that. you need to go at your own pace” she spoke softly as she held your head in her neck, fingers stroking the skin there. “but we really should get that feature taken down, that photo did not get my best side at all,”. you giggled into her neck. “plus… the title was all wrong. you’re not chad’s girl,” she smirked, “you’re mine.” you lifted you head to look at her, “right?” your cheeks were warm and there was a little smile on your lips as you nodded. “‘m your girl.” she smiled at you “my pretty girl.” and she kissed you. you melted into her, body relaxing completely before being suddenly jolted from a loud bang at her door. “i swear to god we are uhauling and getting a house far away where no one can interrupt us kissing anymore” ellie sighed before getting up and opening the door.

brittney stood, hand on hip, usual face of displeasure as she glided into the room “i should be getting a fucking salary for this job” she chucked her bag on the floor “mom never told me that having to kick girls out of the sorority because of batshit crazy lesbian drama was part of the job description of eta president but here we are.” she crossed her arms. you tried to hide a laugh. “you kicked her from eta?” ellie asked. “yeah she’s a freak.” brittney clarified, waving a hand in dismissal. “so uh… why did she do it?” you tried. “ugh. she’s like, in love with ellie or some shit.” your mouth fell open in shock “yeah i don’t get it either” brittney said, straight faced. ellie snorted, “sorry, she’s what?”. brittney huffed “she said she only did it because she was into you and that you,” she looked at you, “were stealing her away and would be much better suited to chad anyway” your mouth was still dropped “that is.. actually deranged” “yeah i know right. all that over ellie”. ellie ran a hand over her face, trying to process everything brittney was saying, as were you. “i was suspicious of her for a while. i mean who cares that much about setting someone up with a guy. and chad as well,” she pulled a face, “-i’d rather watch fucking paint dry”. you were running through all your interactions with emilia, everything piecing together. ellie was thinking about brittney; amused that despite the subtle insults towards her that she threw in every sentence, she wasn’t doing well to hide that she actually cared about her in some form. she was always grateful when she’d drag emilia away when she interrupted you two but now it was in a completely different context; it was for ellie’s sake not her own. she couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at this newfound discovery of brittney being a decent sister. brittney’s head snapped to ellie “what?”. “you care about me”, ellie chuckled. “oh shut up. i just wanted an excuse to kick emilia out, she was annoying me anyway. like who the fuck still sends snapchat streaks in 2023. anyway, i’m needed elsewhere. bye losers” she picked her bag back up and left. despite defending herself against the horrors of being nice, after years of living with brittney, ellie knew she wouldn’t have kicked her best friend out of eta for nothing. ellie had a silent moment of collecting her thoughts after the quiet of the room resumed after brittney’s exit.

you let out a big sigh from ellie’s bed and she turned her head towards you. “crazy day, huh?” you spoke. ellie chuckled and sat herself next to you. “yeah,” she huffed, “i’m still annoyed at brittney though.” you frowned a little, and rested your hand on top of hers “why?” “because she interrupted our big dramatic make-up kiss”. you laughed and shuffled back a little onto her bed crossed legged facing towards her “an unforgivable crime”. ellie turned her body to face you “well that moment’s gone so i’ll have to find another excuse to kiss you”. you looked to the side “hm how’s ‘we haven’t kissed in over 24 hours and i’m getting serious withdrawal symptoms’ for an excuse?” she grinned at you, “perfect”, she leaned towards you and connected her lips to yours, one hand gently holding your face. you sighed into the kiss and she deepened it, letting her tongue find yours. you repositioned yourself so that your legs were flat and she took advantage of your position by slotting a leg in between yours and pushing you down onto her bed gently, mouth not leaving yours. one of her hands stayed on your face and the other travelled down your side slowly, from your ribs down to your thigh, past your skirt. need was building with every second longer she kissed you and ellie was trying to take things slow and not rush despite having you pressed against her bed like she’d pictured since the first time you sat there with shy hands shuffling around. it had been even worse since the sleepover, spending nearly every night since then with her hand down her boxers thinking about your mouth hung in pleasure and the pretty little sounds you made.

a little squeak came from your mouth and ellie discovered she’d pressed her thigh perfectly against your cunt without even realising. now that she knew, she was absolutely going to use your reaction as an indication to carry on. she adjusted her leg and it pressed perfectly into your clit again, tearing a small sound from you, making your face hot from exposing how worked up you were already. ellie chuckled slightly “needy thing” you pouted at her tease and she smiled down at you “‘s ok. that feel nice?” you nodded and she copied it, hit of mocking there, “aw. you want more?” you nodded again and she tutted “need you to use your words, sweet girl” you twisted your mouth to the side and chewed on your bottom lip, embarrassment prickling at you, “want more, ellie” “what do you want, baby?” you huffed lightly, “jus- want you to touch me”. she attached her mouth to yours again and your eyes fluttered shut again, all thoughts lost when she was kissing you.

she let a ‘mm’ sound into your mouth as she reluctantly left your lips “where?” she wasn’t ready to give up the pleasure she was getting from making you flustered trying to vocalise your neediness. “want your fingers again li- like last time.” ellie smirked and let her hand travel to your inner thigh, stroking your soft skin under your skirt. “yeah? you want me here?” as the last word left her mouth she cupped your pussy through your panties and you jolted at the pressure against your clit. a strangled “yes” left your lips. she pecked your lips “good girl” and her hands travelled up to the hem of your top and she held the bottom of your top with two fingers as her thumbs stroked your stomach there, “can i take this off?” she whispered. you nodded and she bunched the material up, when it moved past your tits she let go and a groan you could’ve easily missed was caught in her throat. she brought her hands up and cupped them, staring at your tits like you weren’t watching her. seconds later she was dipping her head to attach her mouth to your left tit, fingers rolling over the nipple on your other. you let out the quietest little whimper and ellie felt like her eyes might roll back just from hearing it “so sensitive all over” she admired, before bringing her mouth to your other tit, swirling her tongue around your nipple and sucking, bringing another little whimper from you. ellie was already getting desperate; fighting down the urge to pull out her strap from its place under her bed and make you take it right now. but she was willing to be patient and she was equally as desperate to keep you here for the whole day and night if it meant getting to see you like this for hours more.

her hand finally made its way back under your skirt and she hooked a finger under the elastic of your panties and inched them down your thighs slowly. when they reached your ankles the realisation that you were completely exposed dawned on you, no panties and top bunched up over your tits, ellie not even having bothered to take it off in the end. you made a move to close your legs together and she held your thighs with both hands, forcing them back open and looking at you with blown out pupils “need to taste you. please?” her desperation causing her dominant act to slip a little. “ok” your voice small. a half-second later she had shuffled herself down your body, face lined up with your cunt, skirt flipped up onto your tummy. “god.” she mumbled as if to herself. “you’re pretty everywhere.” your face went hot and you fought against the urge to close your thighs again in embarrassment. she dipped down and licked a stripe up your pussy, collecting your wetness with her tongue and her strangled moan vibrated against your cunt. as she closed her mouth around your clit, your hips lifted, chasing more pressure, strain of little whines leaving your mouth. ellie gripped your hips and pressed you back down as she sucked on your clit, ripping a loud moan from you. she was almost feral; lapping you up like a woman starved and working her mouth on you with an eagerness that didn’t compromise her skills. your mind went cloudy at the pleasure and you hadn’t even realised her finger had been circling your hole until it dipped into you slowly, only a little way inside you.

ellie had this way of consuming you fully whenever she was with you; all your mind could focus on was her, and right now, how she was making you feel. more specifically the beautiful pleasure of her mouth working on your clit combined with the aching feeling of her finger teasing your entrance, there but not fully there. “please” is all you managed, voice shaky. ellie debated taking her mouth from you to force you to ask for what you wanted properly, but she was drunk on you; the feeling of you in her mouth, your taste, smell, sounds, so she let you have it. she pushed in deeper, curling her finger and reaching that perfect spot inside you. your back arched and she gripped you tighter, keeping you in place as she continued her movements.

it wasn’t long before you could feel yourself getting close; it was obvious to ellie from the way your body tensed and breathing got more erratic. “ellie-mmh” your hands gripped the sheets beneath you and ellie groaned into your cunt in response, pushing you to that final peak, loud moan leaving your mouth as your body shook slightly.

your breathing slowed and body relaxed as you came down from your high. with your eyes still shut your hand reached out to ellie “els?”. she kissed you sloppily, your juices on her tongue mixing with your saliva intensifying the pumping in her clit. she couldn’t help but grind down on your thigh a little as she kissed you. “els- wanna touch you.” she looked down at you, and then placed little kisses over your face and neck “mm kiss not as much kiss as i want to kiss touch you” you let out a short breath, “but- wanna make you feel good too” you pouted slightly. she moved her head to look directly at you again. “you wanna make me feel good?”. you nodded your head eagerly. “then let me fuck you.”

you blinked a few times “you- you just did?”. she chuckled and pecked your lips before getting up from the bed and kneeling to reach for a box that was packed underneath it. as she located the box and held it in her hands a flicker of doubt went through her suddenly; what if this was too quick? what if it scared you off? what if you didn’t wan- her sudden flood of doubtful thoughts meant that she missed you crawling over to lay on your tummy on the bed in front of where she kneeled and lift open the box in her hands, snapping out of it when a tiny sound could be heard from your throat. her eyes snapped up to you and her doubts were promptly washed away when she saw the way you were looking down at her strap sitting idly in the box. your cheeks were warm and your tummy was doing flips but even your shyness couldn’t cover up the lustful look you carried in your eyes. “you want it?” ellie asked, voice dark. “mhm” you murmured. “lay back down for me then, angel”. you obeyed, laying back down, head on her pillow as she stripped off her pants and adjusted her strap over her boxers. she got back up on the bed and rested two arms beside you as she leaned over you,

“you can change your mind if you want. i don’t want to rush you into anyth-“ you pulled her body down to yours “i want it, ellie”. she smirked at you, “yeah?” “mm. i need it. need you inside”. ellie’s brain short circuited for a moment at your words before she grabbed the length of her fake dick and lined it up with your cunt. “tell me how badly you need it.” she practically begged as she stroked the tip up and down your folds, not missing the way your body would jerk every so slightly when she’d let it nudge against your clit. “so badly. needed it for so long”. she pushed into you slightly and you gasped, mouth open and eyes big and glossy. you wanted more so you pushed your hips down a little in an attempt to take her in further. ellie kissed the corner of your mouth before slowly pushing all the way in, filling you completely, forcing a whine from you. “me too, pretty girl. wanted you like this since the first time i saw you.” your eyes watered slightly from the stretch and your tummy fluttered with pleasure. “‘m gonna move ok?” she warned and you nodded, “please”. she started to thrust into you slowly and your head fell back further into the pillow. she continued her strokes, your walls tight around her “good girl, taking me so well” she praised and you whimpered in response.

your body and mind was filled completely with the feeling of ellie’s plastic cock deep inside you and her weight on top of you. you could tell she was being gentle for you, but your body was chasing the euphoria, desperate for whatever she could give you. “faster-“ you whined “please”. how could she say no when you looked so pretty and desperate? she picked up her pace, fucking into you quicker and harder now your body had adjusted to the size. ellie’s own arousal was reaching even higher, the harness rubbing against her clit perfectly as she fucked you. she watched you with admiration almost, your pupils blown and staring doe-eyed up at her, pretty mouth parted and tits rising up and down with each thrust. “you’re so pretty like this-“ she uttered, voice a little strained “-my perfect girl”.

“ellie” you whined and lifted your hands to her face, pouting to communicate what you wanted. she leaned down to kiss you, wet and hot and messy while her strap was repeatedly hitting the perfect spot inside you. as she pulled away she placed both hands on your hips so she could keep your body still as she fucked into you deep as possible. you cried out at the feeling, any consideration for ellie’s neighbours a forgotten thought to your fucked out brain. she lifted a hand from your hip and placed it on the side of your face, thumb ghosting over your lips before pushing past them into your mouth. “suck”. you did, swirling her thumb around in your mouth, a gentle hum coming from your throat. she took it out of your mouth and moved her hand down to where your bodies met, pressing her thumb against your clit. she started to rub little circles, flooding your body with even more bliss. soft strangled moans moved past your lips.

“i know baby. you like when i rub your little clit while i fuck you?”. you were completely gone, coil in your stomach tightening and head completely fuzzy. so much so you didn’t even realise ellie’s own climax was fast approaching, the friction against her clit and the way you looked underneath her was making her quickly fall apart. “g’nna make me fuc- fucking cum” she choked out. you hadn’t even realised that was possible but you knew it made your own release start to creep up on you even more rapidly “please, wanna come with you” you babbled. she was chasing her own high but still keeping the perfect rhythm for you. “you wanna come, yeah? show me baby, come all over my dick.” your body started to stiffen as all the pleasure you were feeling reached it’s peak. “that’s my good girl, coming for me so well” she rambled as she watched you fall apart. half a second later her own orgasm hit her and a string of praises, curses and your name left her mouth in a jumble. you watched, brain not fully functioning still but enough to appreciate the beauty of the sight above you, ellie coming apart completely with her face screwed up in pleasure and your name on her tongue.

your next coherent thought came when she was already laying beside you, both of your heavy breaths the only sound that could be heard, a harsh contrast to the obscene mix of noises and words bouncing around her room only a few seconds ago. she draped her arm over your stomach and nuzzled into you a little. you giggled and moved into her closer.

“i’m obsessed with you too, you know” you spoke. “i can tell” she joked and you nudged her arm off of you playfully. she laughed, “kidding, baby. i’m glad. cause you’re not escaping from me now. never” you smiled at her possessiveness, it was a joke but you knew it rang true. “‘s ok with me” you replied. ellie adjusted herself to sit up slightly, “you should go pee.” you nodded smiling, appreciating her taking care of you and got up to use her bathroom. when you came back she was tucked up in bed, covers pulled up high, little smile on her face. “come back here, i have something for us.” you raised an eyebrow and hesitantly crawled back into her bed. she yanked her hands from under the sheets and you saw her hands holding two capri-suns. you burst out laughing and grabbed one. “i see” your voice bubbling with amusement. “gotta get your energy back up somehow, babe” ellie told you. “are capri-suns good sources of energy?” you pondered. “i dunno, you bought them” she joked.

you laid for a while, capri-suns in hand and voices chatting consistently about nothing. possibly an odd scene to any on-looker but both you and ellie were exactly where you wanted to be. all the little issues from the past few hours, days, weeks were completely insignificant in the moments you shared alone; you were peacefully content and basking in the high from each others company.

and stupidly obsessed with each other.

tag list @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @alexpritch @robinismywifee @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovemoneymorethenmen @amberlynn28 @eyeluvangel @amitycat @callmelola111 @endureher @villainousbear @lazyotakuofficial @rolly-pollie @emiiiiiiiiiiiie @sophlovesbooks @lveunoialv @spaceshipellie @rqmantics

[dnaofhersoul]

a crush. (smut)

simon “ghost” riley x female reader

first post!! idk how long this just gonna be but we’ll figure out by the end lol

warning: simon being rough, spanking, degrading, crying from pleasure, drooling

ever since you were placed in task force 141, you’ve always had a little.. crush, on your lieutenant. at first it started small. getting to meet the task force.. but him. more specifically.

2 years ago.

you’re being guided to a meeting room by your CO.

“here you go.” he says, pointing to a door in front of you, walking you inside. you see a few men, one with a beard, a younger man, someone with a mohawk.. and a man wearing a skull mask.

your CO speaks. “this is y/n l/n. you all may remember her from when we went over her persona file together. get to know each other dor a bit. i’ll back after awhile.”

he closes the door, leaving you all together.

the man with the beard speaks up. “i’ll be your captain. captain price. thats gaz, our buddy soap, and ghost.” he points to everyone as he names them, they all wave or talk a little. except for ghost. he just glances at you.

something about that mysterious demeanor captured your attention from the start.

back to present time.

your mind is plagued with him. everytime the group goes out to hang around, get drinks.. you stare at him. his muscles. his dark eyes. his tattoos. the veins on his arms. the thought of his rough hands pulling on your hair, his fat cock sliding in and out of your holes. him treating you like a whore..

“thats it. you little slut.”

“yeah. just like that. take it all.”

“beg for it. you want this dick so bad, hm? be a good girl and take it then.”

i guess nobody ever notices. or so you thought.

price invited everybody to his office, with a pack of beer. everyones just drinkin, talking, until soap speaks up.

“‘ey, how about we play a game. truth or dare?” he smiles. we look at soap, and mutual agreement instills to play the game. “how about the lass goes first?” he smiles and looks at you. “why not?” you smile. “truth or dare?” “truth.”

“hmm..” he says, thinking for a second, before his eyes light up. he giggles to himself before speaking. “okay.. why do like starin’ at ghost here? hes a little guy after all.” he smiles at his own sarcasm. “little?” ghost side eyes soap, who promptly shushes him. “you got a little crush on him?” soap says to you. you begin to blush. ghosts moves from side eyeing soap to staring at you. as if he was looking at prey and he was the predator.

“you’re seein’ things soap. i don’t have a staring problem, unlike you.” you laugh awkwardly, trying to deflect the question. you feel ghosts eyes on you the entire time, staring through his baclava. “hey, uh.. you guys keep on without me.” you say, standing up and making an excuse to get out of there.”

“i just remembered i need to fill something out. it’ll take awhile. maybe i’ll come back if you guys are still around here when i’m done.” you smile, giving a small wave and closing the door before beelining it to your room, blushing. you stuff your face into your pillow and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. your face is still pink with blush and embarrassment.

there wasn’t any paperwork for you to do. you just feel so.. awkward about it. you sigh and stretch onto your bed. you take off your bra, and change into more comfortable pants. you admire your body for a second in the mirror while changing. your perky tits, your curves, you look good.

you lie in bed. your mind begins to wonder again. ghost.. his muscles. him pinning us against the wall.. tugging down our pants and panties. rubbing the tip against your hole.

you slide your hand down into your panties and begin to play with your clit as you think about him.

him bending you over his leg, spanking you. making you count each hit. fingering your pussy with his massive digits.

you slide your fingers into you and begin to move them in and out as you slide your pants off.

him shoving his cock into you, arching your back and using you like a fleshlight. using you like a toy, like the slut you are for him.

*knock knock knock*

you’re snapped out of your trance. you panic, getting up to wash your hand off. “who is it?” you yell while washing your hands. “ghost.” you freeze as you hear his deep voice. “uh- just a minute!” you dry your hands and run over to your pants, sliding them back on. you look in the mirror, making sure you look presentable. you open the door, his tall frame towering over you. “can i come in?” he says, his voice turning you on already.

“oh uh- yeah. of course.” you open the door and let him in, going to sit on your own bed. “why- are you here..?” you ask. “what was that about.” he says. “what are you talkin’ about?” you say, knowing EXACTLY what hes talking about.

“the truth or dare thing.” he says, looking down at you. “you wanna answer that?” he says. “i- well its complicated..” you say before he cuts you off. “talk.” you avoid eye contact with him, an awkward silence instilling. he grabs your face and makes you look at him, you’re blushing pink. “look at me. talk.” you look at him. “i uhm.. i think. i have a crush on you.” you say, your face warm. he stares in silence for a few seconds before speaking.

“well isn’t that cute.” he says. you tell can hes smirking through his baclava. in one swift movement, he pins you down onto the bed. “and what do you reckon you wanna do about that crush?” he says. you’re frozen. you’re flustered and begin to trip over your words before he pulls his mask up just above his lips and presses his lips onto your roughly.

you moan into his lips, his mouth traveling down your neck. his hands slide up your shirt, feeling your tits. he lifts your shirt up, squeezing your boobs with his rough hands. you make a bold move and begin to rub his dick through his pants, he chuckles when you. he unzips his pants and tugs them down a little, letting you feel him through his boxers. it already feels huge but its only half hard.

he slides his fingers down your body towards and into your panties, playing with your hole, his middle finger pressing against it over and over but never entering. you whimper and play with your nipples, trying to stimulate yourself more, while toying with his cock from the outside of his boxers. he slaps your hand away from your boob. “be patient.”

you moan. he finally pushing his middle finger all the way in your tight hole. “fuck.” he grunts out, relishing in the tightness. you moan, and reach in ghosts boxers. you pull out his cock, its fully hard now and its massive. you salivate at the sight of it. you keep on stroking his cock, keeping him hard. not like he needs too much assistance though. the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his finger is more than stimulating.

he uses his thumb to start gently rubbing your clit while still fingering you. your legs shake but you want more. “more- please.” you whimper out. he continues fingering your cunt and speaks. “more what?” he says. “use your words. ask for it.” he looks down at you. “please- please put another one inside.” he slows his pace down before inserting another finger in, as slow as possible.

he begins to pump his fingers in and out, very slowly picking up speed. you start to get loud, the wet noises coming from your pussy prominent. he starts to speed up, but not enough to finish you off. your eyes roll to the back of your head. “look at me.” he says, grabbing your face roughly. “beg.” you moan. he doesn’t even need to say what to beg for, he knows you want it.

“please- please let me finish please- i’ll be good i’m so close.” you cry out, bucking your hips up for something to push you over the edge. he speeds up, moving his fingers extremely fast, pushing against your g-spot until your eyes roll back, your legs shake and you cream all over his fingers. your high seems to last forever until you come down from it.

your legs are still shaking a bit from the orgasm. your breathing is heavy, you find some strength to look at ghost. “good girl.” he says, his cock still hard. he licks your cream off his fingers, and kisses you, tasting yourself. he pulls his baclava back down over his lips and strokes his cock a few times, pulling your panties to the side. he lines the tip up with your cunt, rubbing the tub on your hole and clit. “you want it?” he says.

you nod profusely. he rubs it a bit more before finally pushing his cock head in. the tip already feels huge, you moan. he pulls back out and shoves the tip in and out for a bit. “just put it in!” you cry out. he grabs you by your face, basically slapping you. “you’re gonna be a good little whore. you better not complain again or i’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk.” he says. that threat turned you on so much, you flex your pussy the next time sticks the tip in, prompting a groan from him. he pushes it in inch by inch, your pink walls taking him in so good. you moan loudly at the stretch, and he begins thrusting slowly. you moan and whimper as his cock slides in and out of you, drooling as his length fills you up over and over again.

he begins to thrust faster, leaving only his tip in and slamming his length back into you over and over. you moan his name. “ghost- ghost please- more, oh my- fuuuck.” you cry out. “call me simon.” you look up at him and cry out his real name, louder this time. “just like that simon- fuck me harder.” you cry out as he slams his dick into you.

he suddenly pulls out, flips you onto your stomach and arches your back, and slams back into you but from behind. he keeps his hand on your back to keep you arched as he uses you like a fleshlight. he rubs your ass before slapping it. you cry out, the pain feeling so good. he continues to fuck you while spanking you. “you like that? you fuckin’ like that?” “yes- yes please just like that.” thats gonna hurt tomorrow, but you don’t care right now.

he pulls your hair back, your eyes roll to the back of your head. the pleasure is too much. you drool and moan as he continues to pound his massive cock into you, squeezing and spanking your ass. your moans fills the room along with the erotic noises of him pounding into you and your wet pussy. “simon- i’m close- don’t stop please i’m gonna cum.” you moan out.

he begins to speed up, he angles his cock to hit spots you didn’t even know existed. your moans turn into whimpers as you get closer and closer, until your high finally comes undone. you scream out his name, everyone definitely heard it. it feels perfect, you feel so filled up. he rides you through your high, his grip on your hair loosening. he thrusts faster into you, chasing his own high.

he pulls out, stroking his cock as fast as he can, cumming on your ass. you can hear him grunting and hyperventilating. you’re still whimpering and shaking, you flop onto your side. he lies down beside you. “you still awake there, love?” he chuckles. you nod, you feeling weak and still sensitive. “do i get to see your face now?” you smile a bit. “you’re not quite there yet love.” he says, moaning to lie on his back. you nod and chuckle.

“so.. am i more than a crush now?” he says, turning his head to you. you think for a second before nodding slightly. “yeah.. yeah i think so.” you say, lifting up his mask slightly, just to see his lips. you kiss him gently. you’re more than friends now, and definitely more than a crush.

————————————————————————

a/n: FIRST FIC AHH!!! i hope this does well! i hope anyone who reads it enjoys, i didnt revise this so i’m hoping for the best 😭 love yall!

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Sigh No More (This Is How It Starts)

TW: sex joke, heavy drinking, cursing, mention of past bad relationship

the hiccups give you away.

they always fucking give you away.

your best friend, angie, stands across from you, almost as drunk as you are.

she speaks over the rim of the cup.

“are you drunk?”

Angie giggles, the kind of giggle you can only accomplish when you’re drunk and the world is light and you have no real worries briefly

“No,” you hold out the o for an obnoxious amount of time, dropping your voice to a whisper, a conspiracy between you two as you grab her in closer, “Are you?”

she giggles. the world around her is brighter, the music louder, everything is funnier: “Yeah,” she giggles. “i am.”

which only makes you giggle more, “can i tell you a secret?”

your voice borders on a slur as she stands closer to you, and she can feel your hot breath on her ear as you talk:

“i’m drunk too.”

you two erupt into loud giggles, eyeing the small crowd.

Hasan stands in a half circle a few steps away from them, in a tight white tank top and tight jeans, practically painted on him, both that leave very little to the imagination

“Communism, you fucking idiot, is not the same as socialism and if i’m the first person to tell you that revolutionary idea then-“

Hasan swirls around the amber liquid in the red solo cup, not really feeling like drinking.

This is his third party this week and the fun that came with the parties quickly wore off by the end of the first one.

“Communism-“

“Don’t you dare say anything about Russia-“

A hard shove by his elbow and he whips around, ready to tell the fucker to watch where they’re walking, ready to put himself to his full height, to be the intimating hasan everyone knows he as.

“That’s my ex-“

He’s seen you before, sure. In passing-the school is small enough that as you leave your english class as he’s getting ready for a modern history class-has seen you in the classroom in the corner, doodling on the desk (that he definitely doesn’t make his own) but that’s the start and the end of how he knows you.

“Quick,” you’re slurring, “Kiss me.”

A smirk pulls it’s way on his lips:

“I usually like some foreplay before,” he’ll smirk, making himself taller, “like a fucking name-“

you roll your eyes, grab him by his tank top until your bodies collide into each other:

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

and you sound sober all of a sudden, your eyes full of what he thinks is borderline panic-so before he can stop himself, tell himself what a horrible idea this is, his lips are crashing into yours, warm and feel familiar, like this is where they’ve belonged after all this time-

Hasan watches as the guy-shorter,pink polo and backwards baseball cap for a team he doesn’t recognize, navy board shorts and fuck-sunglasses inside-pauses, like he’s unsure who this is, is debating on stopping or not and for a second you think you got away with it when you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Babe,” he calls, making your lips part from Hasan’s. “Who’s this?”

And something about this, about asking who this is, rubs Hasan the wrong way as his lips part, his hand goes to your lower back. Acting who this is like he fucking owned you or some shit

“Anthony,” You sound sober again, and your voice borders on being smaller, like you’re scared of this punk in front of you, “This is my boyfriend. uh-“

You pray to whatever god exists that hasan knows to follow the lead, not make you look dumb-

“Hasan.”

He speaks and you hold in a breath of relief. Hasan hand hangs in the air, and Anthony huffs: “Right.”

Hasan snorts, his hand leaves the air and tangled back around your side, “Charming,” holds in an eye roll, “Heard a lot about you.”

So it’s a lie, doesn’t even know this guys name but he looks like a dick so sure-

“Hopefully all good.” Anthony shifts his weight from one foot to the other and Hasan takes some joy in humming, not answering the question.

“I should go-“

“Babe,” Hasan speaks, “I’m gonna get us a drink-“

and the bastard enjoys this, takes your head in his palm and turns your face up at him so you’re on your tip toes as he gives you a gentle kiss.

by the time your eyes open again, and you’re about to say something to hasan about enjoying this too much, anthony is gone.

Hasan stays by your side.

“I think you’re a fucking liability at this point,” Hasan sighs over a glass of water, “Drink some water.”

“not a liability-“ you slur, “think you enjoy-“

a hiccup erupts through your whole body, makes you jump.

“water.”

You take the water and he can tell by the way you’re staring that the room is spinning. his voice turns gentle, tangled his fingers into yours and slowly takes you up the stairs.

“This is my room,” he says, a bunch of lined paper decorate the door, looks like it’s done by various children judging by the way his name is misspelled and letters are upside down, “it’s messy, but you can have the bed.”

A twin sized bed is pushed in the corner. A desk is next to it, crowded with books some half open, others closed with food wrappers as bookmarks. Highlighters and pens are thrown around, along with multiple stacks of stapled papers, a pair of glasses on top of the mess.

“this tours?”

it doesn’t make sense and it’s hard to understand you through the slurring but he nods,

“Yeah,” he says gently, “this is mine.”

“your bed is small.”

he huffs as you gently guides you to the bed, lifts your feet up and swings them onto the bed, his fingers working slowly on taking your heels off.

“Yeah well, can’t afford better.” he snorts.

“You’re kind,” you say as he gives you some blankets, “to do this. you have people thinking you’re tough but you’re a softie.”

he rolls his eyes but his face is pink, “don’t tell others,” he says, “not everyone gets this treatment.”

“Yeah?” you sigh, curling into the covers that smell like him; pine and toothpaste- “What at makes me special?”

he laughs, knows you won’t remember this:

“Only pretty girls get this treatment.”

you giggle, like the drunk you are: “you think i’m pretty?”

your voice has a teasing sing song to it, obviously enjoying it and he rolls his eyes:

“get some sleep-“

“where will you be?” suddenly your voice borders on worry as you pop up, “are you leaving?”

he wonders if you’re like this every night, if the fear of sleeping alone keeps you up.

“I’ll stay, i’ll stay.” he says gently, “look. i’ll work at my desk.”

you don’t move and he rolls his eyes:

“i’ll be right here, close your eyes.”

and you obey and he’s two steps away before you open your eyes again:

“Hasan?”

he holds in a sigh, “yes, sunshine?”

it’s clear the sunshine is sarcastic but something about it makes it feel like butterflies are throwing themselves around your belly

“I can’t sleep.”

he holds in a sigh, holds in the obvious: because you haven’t tried.

instead, makes his way to his dresser, takes out some black shorts he practiced in the weekends with, an old shirt from his days on the debate team in high school-prays your drunk enough to not ask about it-

“Here,” his voice is gentler than you’re use to, and you’re the crying type of drunk so tears threaten to fall when he hands you a bundled up pack of clothing, “Put this on.”

“Is this a bad attempt to see me undress?”

He rubs his forehead, “Jesus fuck, here.”

and he makes a show of turning around, covering his large hand over his face. you half expect him to turn around like Anthony would, but he stays the whole time, barely fidgets.

“Alright.”

he turns around and red faced you’re settling into his bed.

“Alright,” he rolls his eyes, “Close your eyes-“

“You’ll be right here?”

you’re voice is a whimper, borders on pathetic.

“And i’ll be right here.”

You settle into the covers.

“Thanks, Hasan-“

he turns to say something sarcastic but you’re already passed out in his too small bed.

[jamiesfootball]

The Dick String Incident

“Right, new plan for training today! For the awareness bit, we’re gonna tie you fucking knobheads together. Get dressed, tie up, and be out on the pitch in five.” Roy dropped the spools of red string on the bench in the center of the room. He walked out of the room before they could say a word. Jeff was halfway through tying the string around his waist when Colin asked, “Did he say ‘you’ or ‘your’?”

The team froze. As one, the team turned to Jamie, who had stopped lacing up his boots to take the roll from Jeff. Freshly awoken from his between-training nap, he did not look like like a paragon of answers; he looked like someone who was trying to transition from ‘tie boots’ to ‘tie self’ and coming up short. When he realized he was being stared at, he blinked blearily under the attention. “What? Don’t look at me,” he complained. “I’ve been up since four. I wasn’t paying any attention.” Sam rubbed his hands together nervously. “I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but I heard ‘your.’” “He said ‘get dressed’ first. That implies an order of events he’d like to happen,” Jan argued. “Why would he tell us to get dressed and then tie our penises together?” Moe looked at him shrewdly. “So you admit you heard ‘your’ too.” “You’re all being mental. Why would coach have us do that?” Isaac turned to Jamie. “Back me up, man.” His brow furrowed like he was doing some complicated maths in his head. Finally, he shrugged. “I mean, he tied me to a bike this morning and had me pull him around, so maybe?” Colin snapped his fingers. “Like Rocky?” “Eh?” “Rocky Balboa?” Dani perked up excitedly. “Oh, that is the guy who goes--?” He mimed throwing his arms up and shouting. “That’s the one, boyo.” “Hah! I wish to be like Rocky!” Dani announced, eagerly grabbing the offered string from Jamie. Van Damme nodded beside him in agreement. “Hold on, now, Rocky didn’t go around tying dicks together, bruv.” “That we know of,” Moe retorted.

"Yeah, I haven't seen any of the new ones," said Colin. “Creed was dope,” said Declan. “Michael B. Jordan pulled a plane in that one.” Jan scoffed. “You mean his stuntman pulled it.”

“I don’t like Rocky,” Richard added, though no one had asked. “Guys, we do not have time to argue,” Sam implored. He worried the spool between his hands, turning it about like a puzzle. “We have to be on the pitch soon.” “Sam’s right. We got to make a decision,” Isaac said authoritatively. “What do we think? And it has to be unanimous, it can’t just be a few of us out there with strings tied to our willies.” Everyone looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak first. Jan spoke first by dropping his shorts. “I do not wish to be tied to a bike if we are wrong. It is better to be safe than sorry. Hand me the string.”

---

Beard lowered his sunglasses. “Uh, Coach? You seeing what I’m seeing?” Ted watched in confused awe as the team marched out to the pitch like a clustered, confused, delicate group of tadpoles with red string hanging out of their shorts. “Roy, what the hell did you tell them?” “What?” Roy turned around. He stilled. His body tensed all at once, and every trace of an expression left his face except for his eyes. His eyes blazed with mirth. “The plan,” he answered. He walked away to give himself a moment by the water cooler. The HR write-up better be worth it. Ted turned to Beard. “Am I having a seizure? Was that in the plan?” The world’s carefullest procession was almost upon them. Beard pushed his sunglasses back up. “Best not to ask, Coach.”

---

The HR write-up was worth it.

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 HMU (Hit Me Up) - Yungi 🔞

Synopsis: Mingi gets a text from an unknown number and decides to shoot his shot

Tags: Smut, Power Bottom Yunho, Service Top Mingi, Masturbation

A/N: Another repost from AO3. Have fun I guess

Mingi had just gotten to the studio when his phone went off. He’d only had his new phone for a few days and all his apps were constantly sending him alerts. He was going to get Hongjoong to help him adjust the settings when he got inside. He flicked open this notification and it was a text from a number not in his contacts. That wasn’t a surprise because he hadn’t finished importing everyone’s yet. He opened the message to reveal a naked shot of a guy about his age fully erect. The message underneath read:

Can’t wait for you to come over and play tonight.

Mingi quickly closed the message and shoved his phone in his pocket. It was very clearly a wrong number. He had no idea who the guy was. Yet he had the urge to look at the picture again. He’d have to do it later.

“You okay?” Hongjoong asked when he got in the studio.

“What? Why?” Mingi asked.

“You look a little flustered,” Hongjoong replied.

“Oh, just the phone. I’m still getting all these notifications,” he replied. Like a random nude from what I think is a super hot guy with a huge dick.

“I can help you with that,” Hongjoong said.

“Uh, yeah, maybe later,” Mingi said.

“Okay, whenever,” Hongjoong was still suspicious. Mingi muted the phone and they got to work. When they took their first stretch / coffee / pee break, Mingi snuck into one of the unoccupied offices. He opened the message again. Now there was a second message.

Babe, why you ignoring me?

Mingi looked at the picture again. The guy was tan and in shape, like he had a job that required physical labor outside. His hair was tousled and he had a cocky grin. It was difficult to tell how tall he was, but the picture had been taken in a bathroom. His dick was just as impressive as Mingi had recalled it being at first glance. What it might be like to get his mouth around that cock…

Mingi: I think you have the wrong number. He texted back. But thanks for something good looking to start my day.

Mystery Guy: You’re welcome. I don’t suppose I texted a sexy wrong number?

Mingi: Sexy is relative.

Mystery Guy: How about you send me something & I’ll be the judge of that.

Mingi chewed on his lower lip. He tried to take the most flattering selfie he could in the harsh lighting and sent it.

Mystery Guy: Nice, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.

Mingi: I’m at work.

Mystery Guy: So?

Mingi: I’m not sending you a nude from my workplace.

Mystery Guy: How about just your cock, then?

Mingi: You’re bold.

Mystery Guy: You could’ve just told me to fuck off when you said I had the wrong number.

He had a point. An annoyingly correct one.

Mingi: If I’m gonna send you a dick pic, then can I at least know your name?

Mystery Guy: Yunho. And you are?

Mingi: Mingi.

Yunho: So do I get the dick pic or no?

“Mingi! Break’s over!” He heard Hongjoong call from down the hall.

Mingi: Gotta get back to work.

Yunho: So no dick pic after all that? 😞

Mingi thought for a moment.

Mingi: My lunch break is at 12:30.

Yunho: Then I better be seeing some cock around then.

Mingi: Sure.

Yunho: 😘

Had he really just agreed to send a total stranger a dick pic? He hadn’t gotten laid in a while, but was he really this desperate? He’d never taken any kind of suggestive picture ever. All of a sudden he felt like he was going to faint.

“Who were you talking to?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yeosang. He wanted me to join his Pokémon Go team or something,” Mingi shrugged. Now he just had to pray Hongjoong didn’t ask Yeosang about Pokémon Go.

“You really are behind the times,” Hongjoong laughed.

“Yup,” Mingi said.

Lunch rolled around and Mingi took out his phone.

Yunho: Got something for me? 😏

Mingi: Gimme a second.

Yunho: 😀

Mingi couldn’t believe he was doing this. He went into one of the bathroom stalls, opened his pants, and started massaging his cock. He scrolled back up to the original picture Yunho had sent. He was really hot and he’d been aggressively flirting with Mingi all morning. It didn’t take much for Mingi to get hard. He wasn’t sure what to do so he tried several angles and sent Yunho 3 pictures. He felt himself blushing as he hit send. The reply came about 30 seconds later.

Nice. I’d ride that.

Fuck. Mingi felt a jolt in his gut.

Mingi: Ummm, thanks?

Yunho: You wanna come over tonight and let me ride you?

Mingi: Excuse me?

Yunho: Just a fun little hookup. You wouldn’t be texting me back if you weren’t a little horny.

Mingi thought about it. He was horny. Yunho was hot. One hookup wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Mingi: How do I know you’re not an axe murderer or something?

Yunho: Would you like me to link you to my modeling portfolios? I’m pretty sure Armani doesn’t hire axe murderers. So far as I’m aware.

Mingi almost choked. A model? A high end model wanted to hook up with him?

Mingi: Sure. Your place or mine?

Yunho: (address sent)

Mingi: 7p?

Yunho: Show up well hydrated.

Mingi: Ok

Yunho: See you tonight, sexy.

Mingi looked down at his phone. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be real. His boner was very real. He scrolled back up to the original picture and grabbed his cock. He wouldn’t have guessed Yunho was a bottom. No one that built could be a bottom. Maybe Mingi was the exception or he was just making assumptions. Before he knew it, he was coming all over his hand and the toilet seat.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He’d just jacked off at work to a picture of a guy he’d never met. He didn’t think he’d ever jacked off to anything other than a vague fantasy. This was gonna be one hell of a night.

The cab dropped Mingi off in front of a townhouse in a very nice part of town. He tried not to fidget as he rang the doorbell. Yunho answered the door wearing skinny jeans and a tight tee shirt. Mingi was still wearing his work clothes which consisted of baggy jeans and a long sleeved shirt because it was always cold in the studio.

“Hi,” Yunho said.

“Hi,” Mingi replied.

“Please, come in,” Yunho stepped to the side. They were almost exactly the same height.

Mingi walked in and the whole house looked expensive. He guessed he could afford it if he was an A list model. Mingi made good money as a producer, but he was more of a saver than a spender.

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised you took me up on my offer,” Yunho said as he led Mingi into the kitchen.

“Oh?”

“You get a nude from a guy you don’t know and less than 12 hours later you’re at his house?” Yunho said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Mingi chuckled nervously.

“Red or white?” Yunho asked.

“I’m sorry?” Mingi replied.

“Wine,” Yunho said.

“Oh, white,” Mingi replied. Yunho took a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured 2 glasses.

“Who were you trying to text?” Mingi asked.

“This is a little embarrassing, but my ex,” Yunho replied.

“Your ex?” Mingi raised an eyebrow.

“We hook up sometimes and that’s the quickest way to get his attention,” Yunho handed him a glass.

“It certainly got my attention,” Mingi said.

“I’d imagine an unexpected naked picture would get anyone’s attention,” Yunho laughed.

“Yeah, but you’re...hot,” Mingi tried not to chug the wine.

“Thank you,” Yunho said. “You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

“I’m not exactly a model,” Mingi was trying not to blush. Hot guys didn’t compliment guys like him. He was average. He was normal.

“Sexy is relative,” Yunho put down his glass and stepped closer to Mingi.

“Gonna use my own words against me?” Mingi asked.

“Maybe,” Yunho ran a finger across Mingi’s lower lip. Mingi felt his cock harden almost immediately. Yunho slowly dragged his finger down Mingi’s chin and kissed him. Mingi felt like he’d been shocked. Yunho’s lips were warm and soft. He slid his hands down Mingi’s body until they were resting on his lower back. Mingi balled Yunho’s shirt in his fists and tugged a little. He started to kiss Yunho more aggressively. Yunho pushed into Mingi’s lower back, gently pressing Mingi’s body against his.

“You’re a way better kisser than my ex,” Yunho told him when they parted.

“Really?” Mingi replied.

“Where’s your confidence, Mingi? You’re sexy as hell and I’m very much looking forward to jumping on your cock,” Yunho smiled.

“But you’re...and I’m…” Mingi started.

“I’m a model and you’re a guy I accidentally texted? I asked you over here, not the other way around,” Yunho brushed his fingers under Mingi’s shirt.

“I guess so…” Mingi replied.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Yunho said.

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed.

“Should I show you my bedroom or would you prefer to defile my couch?” Yunho smirked.

“Bed’s fine,” Mingi replied. Yunho stepped back and pulled off his shirt. He looked at Mingi expectantly. Mingi slowly pulled off his shirt. He tried not to look too self conscious about how pale he was compared to Yunho’s golden skin. Yunho took his hand and led him up the stairs.

“You have beautiful skin,” Yunho said as he ran his hands over Mingi’s torso. Mingi didn’t respond. Yunho stepped closer to him so their chests touched. Mingi sucked in a breath. He rested his lips just barely against Mingi’s ear.

“I’ve never had a porcelain skinned prince under me,” he whispered. “Or in me.” Mingi started breathing harder. “Little bit of a praise kink, huh?”

“Maybe?” Mingi genuinely wasn’t sure. Though he wasn’t sure about much at this point.

“Why don’t you put those pretty lips around my cock and we’ll see about that,” Yunho grinned.

Mingi practically salivated. Okay, maybe he did have a praise kink. Yunho took off his pants and underwear and sat on the bed. Mingi was looking at the cock he’d been fantasizing about all afternoon. The one he’d been fantasizing about sucking all afternoon. Mingi knelt down in front of him and took him in his mouth. It didn’t taste like a dick. It almost tasted sweet. He could get addicted to this.

Mingi ran his whole tongue on the underside. Yunho moaned. Mingi held onto his knees as he slowly took more of him in his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given a blow job. As he teased the tip of Yunho’s cock with his tongue, he remembered liking it.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned and pushed his cock further into Mingi’s mouth. Mingi decided to one up him and swallowed all of him.

“Oh fuck, baby. That’s amazing,” Yunho knotted his fingers in Mingi’s hair. Mingi carefully sucked. He didn’t want Yunho to come. He just wanted him riled up. He tapped his knee and Yunho let go of his hair. Mingi withdrew his head.

“You still have a dick to ride,” Mingi said.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Yunho breathed. “I’m gonna make you suck me off later.”

“Later?” Mingi repeated.

“You think I’m gonna let you leave after one round? Hell no, hot stuff. You’re mine all night,” Yunho pulled him up on the bed.

“Oh, okay,” Mingi said.

“Unless you have somewhere to be,” Yunho said.

“Nope,” Mingi shook his head.

“Good. Then you’re mine,” Yunho kissed him passionately. Mingi bucked his hips up into Yunho’s. Yunho managed to get Mingi’s pants and underwear off without letting up from kissing him.

“Nice trick,” Mingi said.

“Lots of practice,” Yunho smiled. He pulled a condom and lube out of the bedside table. Mingi quickly put the condom on and lubed it up. The feral desire in Yunho’s eyes was obvious. He pinned Mingi’s shoulders to the bed as he mounted his dick.

“Just a good as I thought it would be,” Yunho said. Mingi was trying to process the feeling of Yunho’s ass around his cock. It felt like a perfect fit. He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. The tip of Yunho’s cock slapped against his stomach as he started to fuck him. Mingi had never felt this wanted before. He thought he might have felt used. It was a hookup. Instead he felt wanted. Yunho wanted him. He wanted to be on top of him. He’d wanted Mingi’s mouth around his cock.

“Jesus why do you feel so good?” Yunho panted as he slammed his ass down onto Mingi’s dick. He’d started to sweat and his hair was sticking to his face. His tanned skin had a perfect sheen of moisture on it. His eyes were closed and his face seemed frozen in an expression of abject pleasure.

“Use me, baby. I’m here to make you feel good,” Mingi wasn’t used to dirty talk in bed either.

“Oh, I feel good. I feel really fucking good,” Yunho groaned. “And I’m gonna get come all over you.”

“Then do it, baby. Come all over me,” Mingi replied. Yunho leaned forward and pushed Mingi’s shoulders into the bed. He fucked Mingi as hard as he could. Yunho dug his fingers into Mingi’s shoulders when he started to come. He bucked and cussed. Mingi watched him breathe hard as he kept riding his cock. When he finished, he grabbed Mingi and flipped them over. Now Mingi was on top and Yunho was on his back.

“Use me, baby,” he smiled lazily. Mingi put his hands on Yunho’s shoulders and thrust into him. It didn’t take long. He came hard into Yunho, sputtering and trying hard to breathe. He managed to roll off of him so he was the only sticky one.

“Fuck,” Mingi panted.

“Satisfied?” Yunho asked.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” Mingi told him.

“Me too,” Yunho rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand.

“Really?” Mingi looked over at him.

“Not praise kink,” he winked. “Rest up. I’m not done with you.”

“Food?” Mingi suggested. “And maybe a washcloth?”

“Sure,” Yunho laughed.

The next morning, Mingi’s phone went off right as he got to work. It was a nude of Yunho in bed.

Can’t wait for you to come over and play tonight.

Mingi: Me too.

He grinned to himself and muted his phone.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 ao3

A series of notes passed during private study periods in Hawkins High School Library, circa January—May, 1985.

A sheet of paper hastily ripped from its notebook, folded over with a crease down the middle.

—Harrington, did you just turn down that girl?

—What are you talking about?

—Hey, you can’t blame a guy for being nosy. You were the one deciding to TALK in a SACRED LIBRARY.

—If you heard us, why are you asking?

—Okay, sound doesn’t travel that far.

—Why don’t YOU tell me what happened considering you know everything?

—Wow. Touchy.

—Fuck off.

—Sorry. Thought we were just joking around. Didn’t mean to be a dick.

—It’s fine.

—You sure?

—I wasn’t ‘turning her down.’ She’s on the Yearbook Committee. Asking for photos.

—Too many pin-ups to choose from?

—Baby photos.

—What’s the problem? Did you come out the womb holding hairspray?

—No.

—Table it or ditch it?

—?

—It’s something my uncle says. If he asks me about stuff I don’t wanna talk about, I can either table it for later or ditch it completely. But if something keeps coming up and I keep saying to ditch it, then it automatically becomes a table it for later.

—That’s smart.

—Yup.

—Table it.

—Okay.

—? Why do you keep scoring out stuff?

—Sorry sorry. I can only think of baby photos now.

—Not against them in general. Feel free to talk about yourself, Munson.

—Uh-huh. I could hear the sarcasm in how you wrote that.

—Ha. No, really. I don’t mind.

—Well, lucky for you, talking about myself is my favorite subject.

—Lucky me.

—I thought I’d lost literally all of my baby photos. When I lived with my dad, the house got flooded and all of them were hit. Water damage. I had to get my books spread out on a radiator so the pages would dry, and that kinda worked for some of them. Photos were goners, though.

—That’s awful.

—Hold your horses, cowboy. But then when I moved to my uncle’s—we’re at the trailer park in Forest Hills—I saw he had all these photos stacked on a bookcase, and I thought they were all really old, like from when he was a kid and stuff, and some of them were, but he had whole entire ALBUMS of me. Way more than my dad ever had.

—That’s cool.

—You’re so verbose, Harrington.

—I meant it. It’s just. I was just thinking.

—About?

—That’s not why I—I HAVE baby photos, that’s not the problem.

—Don’t sweat it, dude, you don’t need to tell me.

—It’s just. Rebecca, that’s who was talking to me, she kept going on about how everyone else has already sent in a baby photo or, you know, a photo from when they were a kid, and she was excited about it, it’s a whole new thing they’re doing for this year. They’re gonna do a special layout, old photos next to current ones, you know what I mean?

—Afraid I’ve never been privy to the wondrous goings-on of the Yearbook Committee.

—She said it’ll look weird if I’m the only one not doing it. But it’s—I don’t know. I know I could just pick any damn photo and send it in, it’d get the whole Committee off my back. But I think I’d feel weird at the thought of the whole year getting to see—god, this doesn’t even make sense, like I don’t mind them seeing at a photo of me NOW, but I don’t. I don’t like looking at old photos, I never have. I don’t know why. Guess I just don’t like looking back.

—Fuck what everyone else is doing. They’re YOUR photos. Forget the precious ‘layout.’

—Yeah, that’s sorta what I told her, minus the ‘fuck.’

—If it’ll shut them all up, you could send in one of mine. See who actually notices.

—No way.

—Yeah, I was just being stupid.

—No. Those are YOUR photos. Save them for your own Yearbook. Sounds like your uncle could fill the whole thing with pictures.

—Wouldn’t put it past him.

—Shit, is that the time? The bell’s gonna ring in five minutes. I’ve done NOTHING.

—The horror!

—I’m blaming you.

—Honored to be considered a distraction, Harrington.

-

A scrap of paper, hastily dropped into the pencil case of an unknowing Eddie Munson as the bell rang.

—Thanks.

[whositmcwhatsit]

AN: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but it wouldn't have appeared at all without the cheerleading, suggestions, alphaing and nudging of @thatbanditqueen. Basically, it's all her fault, send complaints her way. As always, all feedback is welcome, encouraged and enjoyed. Previous Chapter Chapter 10: All the Silly Girls

Chancy almost immediately regretted refusing Joe’s offer to get her a hotel room, even more so when she got to the desolate airport and found out that she had to wait six hours to get any flight in the general direction of home.

It was very early in the morning and the smattering of people littering the lounge had all had their faces painted with the same expression of watery annoyance. She couldn’t sit, feeling her chest tighten as all the shaken pieces of the night settled down on her, so instead, she walked laps around the airport until the little news kiosk opened and she could distract herself with gossip magazines.

Gradually, life seemed to awaken. She watched work-minded people in suits appear and families with cameras around their necks corralling over-excited kids.

At some point, music started playing over the speakers and she grimaced as she heard the opening notes to “Suspicious Minds.” He was everywhere!

Not long before the flight was due to start boarding, a page came over the loudspeaker, calling her to the information desk. She wasn’t completely surprised, and she steeled herself as she made her way to the desk. A disinterested woman gestured to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chancy, that you?” Charlie sounded hungover, his voice hoarse and cracked. She wondered if he had been dragged out of bed to make the call.

“What’s up, Charlie?”

“Aw, nothin’ much, darlin’. I’m gonna go ahead and send someone down to pick you up, alright?”

Chancy pulled the receiver back and looked at it as though it was crazy since she couldn’t do the same to Charlie himself.

“I think that’d make catching my flight a lot more difficult, Charlie.”

“Look now, I know something went down last night and I don’t know what exactly happened, but you know how these things go, Chance. It’ll turn out everything is a big misunderstanding and everyone got all heated for no reason.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, not this time.”

“Come on back, darlin’ and we’ll sort this out.”

Chancy sighed and ran her fingers through her limp, tangled hair. The idea of grabbing a shower and collapsing into a bed did sound enticing, but all the rest…

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Mmhmm, I guess so,” he answered vaguely.

“And he’s there right now listening?”

“Uh huh. So, I’m gonna send Dick to pick you up-“

“I can’t come back, Charlie,” Chancy interjected. “It’s not that I’m mad. Well… no, I am, but I’ve got to have some pride, you know? The tour’s nearly done anyhow and he can probably fly someone in for the last few dates.” She forced a little laugh. “I heard there’s a tall blonde that’s eager for the job. Look, I gotta go, they’re saying we’re boarding.” She hung up as her voice started to sound strangled, her throat tightened and tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

When would she learn? When would the hurting stop? With any other repetitive injury, callouses formed to protect you, but not when it was the heart. That relied on you being smart enough to not keep making the same mistake over and over.

Standing at the gate, waiting in line to board, she noticed an older lady giving her a curious look that faded into disapproval. She glanced down at herself, still teetering on white chunky heels and wearing her white silk gown. She looked like the personification of the morning after, used and rejected. Her head was pounding, her mouth tasted disgusting, and her insides felt even worse.

After take-off, she asked the stewardess for a blanket and tried to sleep it off, but she couldn’t turn off her brain. It kept returning to the early days, when her relationship with Elvis had still been sweet and tinted by the rosy glow of first love. 

Shivering in her dress under the thin, cheap airplane blanket, Chancy thought about the old days and wondered whether dating Elvis had ever been simple, or if it only seemed that way.

Early Fall 1955

It was just before nine when there was a knock on the door. Alicia was laying prone on the couch, feet wiggling in the air as she read one of Chancy’s magazines, and Chancy cleaned up the mess from girls’ night with Margie and Barb. The girls always came over on Tuesday evenings because Grandma was out late at church with the woman’s club, and this reprieve gave the girls time and space to gossip and make plans without whispering or provoking Grandma’s tutting and lectures on virtue.

Chancy snatched up Margie’s sweater from the table, smiling to herself at her friend’s forgetfulness, and opened the door. Her face dropped in surprise as, instead of Margie, there was a tall, beautiful man in a pink sports jacket leaning against the door jamb.

“Hey baby, you gonna let me in?”

Chancy gasped and snatched his arm, yanking him through the door. Elvis laughed as they stumbled into the hallway and he practically fell against her. They kissed without thinking, like it was the natural next step. Chancy thought her body was just trained that way by now.

“When did you get home?” she asked when they finally broke apart, then smacked his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He laughed again, impossibly delighted with himself.

“Only got back this morning, we drove all night. Ain’t my baby happy to see her guy?” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled, making her squirm.

“Of course I’m happy to see you!” She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hungrily, loving the way he turned so pliant as soon as she took charge. When they broke apart, they stood back and just drank in each other with their eyes. Then the forelock of his hair fell down, still slightly curly from that experimental permanent a few weeks ago and his eyes were a little shiny with those little creases on his high cheekbones that betrayed his exhaustion.

“You look tired,” she observed, lifting her hand to meet his as he reached for her.

“You sound like Mama. I slept all day, I’m fine. Came over to see if you wanted to go for a drive?”

“I can’t, Grandma’s out at a church meeting and I gotta watch Alicia.” His eyebrows lifted and his stance changed completely as soon as he realised they were unsupervised.

“Oh, okay.” He tightened his fingers around hers and led her back into her own house. 

In the living room, Alicia was still deeply engrossed in her article on Jimmy Dean. Elvis turned to Chancy and put his finger to his lips and tiptoed over to the sofa like he was a character in a cartoon.

“What are you doing reading that, young lady?!” He snatched the magazine from her, and Alicia shrieked high and loud enough to rouse every dog in the city. This was, of course, hilarious to Elvis, who almost fell down, he was laughing so hard. Every time he managed to straighten himself up, he would look at Alicia’s indignant face and start himself off again.

Chancy snatched the magazine from him and smacked him across the back with it, inviting Alicia to come help her fetch some drinks and offering her a cookie to smooth her ruffled feathers.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Lil’un,” Elvis said, squeezing the nine-year-old into his side with his arm around her shoulders. “You know I was just fooling around. You ain’t sore, are ya? Not with your little old Elvis?” He pouted his luscious lips and Alicia relented, smiling around the cookie. “I knew you couldn’t stand to be mad at me for long, you’re just like your sister.” He winked at Chancy, who tried to roll her eyes but her pink cheeks and growing smile gave her away.

Back on the sofa, Chancy couldn’t help looking at him and grinning. It felt a little like Christmas having him home finally and all to herself. Almost.

“You know, some of the girls were talking about you at school the other day,” Alicia informed Elvis. “They were saying that you were the most and that you were gonna be more famous than Pat Boone. Then Frannie in my gym class said that you were dating her sister, but Kathy Jean said that you were dating her cousin.”

“Heck, no wonder I’m tired,” Elvis remarked. “And what d’you say to all that, honey?”

“Well, Chancy said I’m not allowed to talk about you two being steadies and that you’re gonna get married. She said it’s private.” Alicia pulled a face that showed exactly what she thought about that.

“Naw, you can set ‘em straight, honey, You tell ‘em I only have one sweetheart.” He dipped his head down to kiss Chancy’s cheek, nuzzling down to her neck with the tip of his nose. She could feel his arm tighten around her as he pulled her against him and she had to nudge him in the side with her elbow to get him to pull back. He sighed slightly and turned back at Alicia, who was looking at them with an expression of fascination.

“Are you really gonna be more famous than Pat Boone?”

“Well, I hope to.”

“Are you rich?”

“Hmm, not yet, but hope to be.”

“Will you move to Hollywood and live in a mansion with palm trees and a swimming pool?”

“Well, maybe I’ll get my own swimming pool right here, what d’ya say?” He gave Chancy a soft smile and she rested her arm on his leg, feeling the tense muscle of his thigh against her forearm as he jiggled it constantly. Even worn out he couldn’t stop moving.

“What about tennis courts?” Alicia continued.

“Wait a minute, are you a reporter?” he asked, squinting at her with playful suspicion. “What’s with all the questions?” 

Alicia shrugged and finished her drink, her eyes studying him intently. There was obviously more of an interrogation coming.

“Elvis, can I live with you guys when you marry my sister?”

Elvis grinned, his fingers twitching against Chancy’s shoulder. He adjusted his hand so that they were brushing her neck, his thumb tickling from her ear down to her shoulder and back again.

“Hey, I thought it was you and me getting married, Lil’un?! Wait, is this you breaking up with me? Wow, way to let a guy down easy!” His voice was high and playful as he reached over and tugged one of Alicia’s plaits.

“I’m only nine!” she returned, frowning at him like he was crazy. He tilted his head and nodded at this as though this was a serious consideration, though his eyes were glittering. “You’ll have to wait and I guess I can marry you next.”

Elvis threw his head back and roared with laughter, his breath hitching as he collapsed against Chancy. “Oh Lord, you got it all worked out, don’tcha!”

Chancy rolled her eyes at the two of them and pointedly told Alicia that it was time for bed.

“She’s a gas,” Elvis remarked, already twisting on the sofa and clasping Chancy’s face, kissing her softly and then harder like he was trying to check she was really there. Chancy didn’t answer, sliding her arms underneath his and pulling him in tighter. It was never enough, she could never hold him tight enough to keep him still and keep him with her, but she could also never stop trying.

“You know, I was dreaming about you earlier today, honey.” He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

“No, you weren’t.” She could feel her cheeks throbbing and she shifted a little closer to him.

“Don’t tell me what I was or weren’t doing,” he retorted. “I’m telling you right now, I dreamed about you. I know it was you, baby.” 

“How?” she countered. “How’d you know it was me and not one of those pretty girls you met on the road?”

“’Cause I don’t dream about no girls on the road,” he muttered scornfully. He tugged her hand, almost pulling her face first into his chest. “Look at this here hand, this itty bitty hand was for sure in my dream.”

He leant down and kissed the first knuckle of her index finger and she inhaled sharply. She caught the sparkle in his eyes as he looked up at her through his brows and felt his lips stretch against her skin into a smirk. He kissed her finger on the next knuckle, his breath tickling her skin. She pressed her thighs together as he leaned in, his other hand gripping her hip through her skirt.

“What else,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“What else was in your dream?”

“Oh. Well… I don’t know if I should say.” Chancy blushed as he placed her hand on her lap and stretched his arm out, his calloused fingertips finding her ankle and dragging up her calf.

“You been good while I was gone?” he murmured. His finger slid in a swoop around her calf muscle, which tensed and twitched, and into the dip at the back of her knee. “Ain’t been doing nothing that’ll break my poor ole heart now, have you?” There was a hard backbone to his playful babyish tone that told her he wasn’t fooling around, supported by over a year of hard-won experience.

“Now Elvis you know what category they’re looking to vote me in the yearbook next year, don’t you?” she returned in the same tone. “It’s a new one. ‘Most likely to die an old maid waiting for Elvis Presley to marry her’. But let me tell you, there’s stiff competition.”

He gave a little laugh that sounded slightly sheepish. “Now, you know that ain’t true.”

“It is too true! I see those girls in the papers just like everybody else.”

“You know that’s all for publicity, baby, it’s all made up!” He was playing up his ‘aw shucks shy boy’ act, maybe too tired to remember that Chancy saw through it like a window pane.

“Yeah, I know I know,” she muttered, sounding unconvinced.

Elvis didn’t seem to realise that she was older now, a mature woman of seventeen, and she talked with the girls at school, who were dating boys off doing their duty in the service, or at college. They all talked about how boys were different, weaker and more helpless against their urges. A girl had to accept that a man’s eye may stray when he was away, it was natural, but it was important that he was true in the ways that mattered, in his heart. Her friend Margie had even brought in a dime store book about love gone awry from tawdry affairs.They had to keep it hidden because it had a picture of a woman in just her slip reclining against a desk with her suited boss looking like he was about to make an advance.

But Chancy didn’t need books. As a child, she had witnessed the pain it caused a woman when she had a man that wasn’t true to her. She had seen the bitterness that had sprung from her mother’s humiliation, the poison that fermented and seeped into every aspect of their lives. She had promised herself she would never end up like that.

“Come on now,” Elvis cajoled. He softly sang a few lines of Patti Page’s ‘Why Don’t You Believe Me’: “How else can I tell you, What more can I do, Why don't you believe me, I love only you.”

At the final sweet note, she smacked him in the chest, making him turn it into a wheezy groan.

“That ain’t fair!” she told him, half-seriously. “You know you win every time you do that!”

He laughed in a knowing way, before gritting his teeth and grabbing her by the biceps to give her a quick shake.

“You gotta believe me though, honey” he said in a flat voice, a jarring change of tone to his abrupt ‘attack’. “I ain’t dreaming of no other girls and certainly ain’t loving ‘em, nothing like that.” She felt him slide his fingers between hers and pull her closer for a kiss and she sank willingly. They barely heard the rattling of the door.

“I’m home! Whose car is that out front?”

By the time that Chancy’s grandma had shed her coat and purse and come into the living room, they were both standing up straight in the living room looking incredibly guilty. Chancy could almost feel the pressure of her grandmother’s eyes as she checked their clothes to ensure they didn’t look rumpled or hastily buttoned.

“Elvis, it’s good to see you, son. I didn’t know you were back.”

“It’s good to see you too, Grammy. Well, I- I just got back today, it was supposed to be something of a surprise you see. I didn’t let on to nobody that I was coming.” He awkwardly clasped his hands together at his groin, glanced down at himself and then hastily put them behind his back. 

Chancy bit down on a smile. The man could play to huge crowds but he still got nervous facing a tiny grey-haired lady.

“I bet your mother sure was pleased to see you. Give her my regards, won’t you?” There was a long pause as they registered the polite eviction notice.

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He nodded with the entire top half of his body and turned to Chancy. “I-I guess I’ll be going then. It was nice to see you, ma’am.”

Chancy started to lead him to the front door, and as soon as they reached the hallway he sped up and pressed himself against her back, his large hand splayed against her belly. Chancy exhaled loudly.

“Is that your car out front, Elvis?” They broke apart as Grandma decided to accompany them to the front door.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the love of my life right there.” Chancy glanced over her shoulder and shot him a playfully indignant look and he shrugged, his expression seemed to suggest that he had no control over what he was saying. “I mean, yes, it is.”

“Well, it’s very fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Both he and Chancy stood awkwardly on the doorstep,it looked as though Grandma was going to play spectator while they said goodbye, but after warning him to drive safely, she went back into the house.

Chancy tilted her head and gave him an apologetic look. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Baby, can’t you come for a drive?” he whispered, grabbing her hips and pulling like he was going to bundle her into the car no matter what she said. “It’s still early.”

“You know I want to, honey, but…”

He hurried forward and stepped up onto the doorjamb with her, crushing her mouth and her body against him.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that. Just flat out insane.”

“You’re already certifiable,” she returned, linking her hands behind his neck and rumpling his upturned collar.

“Well, you know what a crazy person’d do?” He scooped her up and turned as if he was about to take off with her. “You’re so little I could hide you in the glove compartment. No one’d know.”

“I think that if you tried that Grandma would make sure you ended up locked in your own trunk.” He sighed, nodding in acknowledgement, and released her so that she was standing on her own two feet.

“One day, Cha Cha, one day…” He squeezed her cheeks, gritting his teeth as he looked at her squashed pout, before kissing it. She could feel the tension thrumming through him.

“I know,” she sighed. She gave him one last, sweet long kiss and fixed his collar. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He climbed into his car, still looking pouty and sad. It made her heart ache. “I love you, love you, love you. Really, I love you, baby.”

Chancy watched the pink and black Cadillac disappear down the street, smoothing the front of her skirt and trying to will down the frustration, hunger and sadness that were coursing through her. She reminded herself that she loved her grandmother and didn’t want to strangle her. Likewise her sister. She could wait until tomorrow. After all, they had forever.

The present

By the time Chancy finally saw her sister and niece at the arrival gate, she had spent the majority of the day on planes, waiting for planes, or getting on and off them. She forced herself to show a little enthusiasm as she came down the tunnel, ignoring the way that her shoes were rubbing the backs of her heels.

Alicia took one look at her and seemed to size up the situation even if she didn’t understand it. She grabbed Chancy’s bag from her and turned to lead her out. Four-year-old Faye was excited to see what present Auntie Chancy had brought back from her vacation and Chancy was quick to pull out the candy and teddy bear she had grabbed from the airport gift shop during her last layover.

In the car, Alicia finally gave in to her curiosity.

“You know, when I couldn’t get a hold of you the past couple of weeks I imagined some pretty wild things, but joining the Rockettes was not one of them.”

“Did it take you all the time from the gate to just now to think of that one?”

“Well, I was gonna go with Vegas showgirl, but I kinda wanted to say ‘Rockettes’.”

Chancy smiled in spite of herself. “Look, I’m sorry about not calling. It just got a little crazy on the road and I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, that’s what Elvis said.”

“What?”

“Elvis. He called me- When was it- the day before yesterday and I was so surprised I thought someone was pulling my leg at first. You know, in all the time I’ve known him I don’t think he’s ever called me personally.”

“What did he want?”

“Well, I’d been calling all over trying to reach you and no goddamn soul at any one of the hotels said they had a record of you having a room. I mean, they wouldn’t even confirm that Elvis was staying there. Lord, Grandma might have had one of her headaches if she’d heard the way I spoke to some of the receptionists on the phone.

“Anyway, out of the blue, Elvis called and he was teasing me like he always does, saying that I’d hassled the front desk so much that they’d told Joe he should call the FBI because I was a crazed stalker. And he knew it must be me because I’d been in love with him since I was seven years old.”

Even in the retelling, Alicia was absently touching her face and had two spots of colour on her cheeks.

“So that’s it, he called you because you upset the hotel?”

“Oh, no, so we caught up. Boy, I always forget how funny he can be. Then he says that Joe will give me the details of how to reach his room whenever I needed to. I said that was sweet of him and I was honoured and all, but I really needed the number of your room because I needed to speak to you.”

Chancy felt her stomach start to sink.

“Well then he couldn’t get me off the phone quick enough. He said he’d get you to call me and he hung up on me!”

So, he had known that she hadn’t told anyone about the two of them. She imagined that had not gone down well. She wondered how much that had fed into what he had done, but the truth was that trying to follow Elvis’ logic was like chasing a raindrop down a window.

“I was kidding about the Rockettes, but you’re okay, right?” Alicia shot her a sideways glance as she negotiated traffic. “You look-“

“Like I’ve been catching planes since the early hours of this morning? Yeah, I know. It was just one of those things, you know how it goes.”

It wasn’t the first time that Chancy and Elvis had fallen out. It was not even the first time that she had argued with him and caught the next flight home, but it felt different this time. It was different. And in the days afterwards, it felt like she was recovering, beaten up and healing, from a terrible accident or an operation.

It must have seemed that way to others too, because Grandma kept making her ambrosia salad and serving up extra portions of food at every meal, and Alicia gave her a free cut and blow dry which was usually reserved for first dates and birthdays. It made Chancy think she must seem really pitiful, but nobody actually said anything or pressed her for details, because that was not how things operated in her family.

“Tell the truth, Grandma, were you surprised?” Chancy asked as Alicia’s new boyfriend Cliff navigated around the potholes marking the unmade road to their house in the failing light. It was a week later, and Chancy had finally begun to feel somewhat normal again. At least physically.

Her grandmother gave a demure smile and replied, “Of course I was, it was a lovely surprise.”

Chancy had been dubious about the idea of a surprise birthday party when Alicia had suggested it. Celebrating someone living all the way to eighty by taking them to a strange place in the dark and yelling ‘Surprise’ at them unexpectedly seemed a recipe for disaster, but she had to concede Alicia’s point, the lady did deserve to be spoiled.

Organising the party had been a decent distraction for Chancy too, though not as taxing as she had hoped. She still had far too much time to think. Little by little, she came to view the time on tour as a strange waking dream, an answer to the ‘what-ifs’ and the daydreams that floated up on random, dreary days. It was proof that you could never go back. She tried to tell herself, as optimistically as she could manage, that it had been a conclusion added fifteen years after the fact. A fitting conclusion that reaffirmed that she had made the right choice leaving for once and for all.

And then she saw the fleet of Cadillacs in the dirt driveway in front of the old ranch house.

Well, shit, her brain supplied helpfully.

“What’s all this?” asked Grandma. “Not another surprise?”

“Uh, not just for you, Grandma,” Alicia replied, glancing curiously at Chancy, who was trying to sink down in her seat.

“There’s gotta be nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth of cars out there,” Cliff marvelled, peering through his windshield. “Lord almighty, what is that?!”

“That is a Stutz Blackhawk,” Chancy informed him. “And the last thing I wanted to see today.”

“God, it’s a beauty!” Cliff barely put on the parking brake before he was out of the truck and circling the car.

Sonny was leaning against one of the Cadillacs smoking and he nodded at Chancy as she climbed out of the truck and turned to help Grandma down from the step.

“He ain’t gonna shoot me for looking, is he?” Cliff asked, pausing his circling as he noticed the shoulder holsters.

“Probably best not to try and find out,” Chancy replied, ducking her head to hide her smirk as Cliff’s panicked expression.

Opening the front door, they followed the noise to the kitchen where Elvis, his cousin Billy, Charlie and the whole contingent of Stanley boys were sitting at their kitchen table apparently drinking coffee with their housekeeper/tenant Ruth and her husband, Harold.

“Surprise,” Alicia trilled awkwardly under her breath, shrugging in answer to Chancy’s questioning look.

“Hey, there she is!” Elvis observed with playful exasperation like they were late to an appointment. “Happy birthday, Grammy!” He rose from his chair and circled the table to give Grandma a hug.

If Cliff had been astounded by the cash value of the automobiles parked outside, Chancy could only imagine his wonder at the amount of twenty-four karat gold standing in the kitchen.

 Always one to dress for an occasion, Elvis was wearing a cream suit with a blue silk shirt and a gold ring on every single finger, not to mention a twisted gold necklace that looked like a bolero tie and his usual ID bracelet. Just one of the rings on his fingers could have paid the property taxes and resurfaced their driveway with a new kitchen bought with the leftovers.

“Thank you, it’s lovely to see you, Elvis… and friends,” Grandma said pointedly, but Elvis was too busy kissing Alicia’s cheek and meeting little Faye to hear or respond to the polite prompt.

“By God, this family makes pretty girls, don’t it, Charlie?” he marvelled, glancing over his shoulder at Charlie, who was quick to pick up the cue and concur enthusiastically. Chancy was only surprised he didn’t do it in harmony.

She only had a second to panic when Elvis turned to her, wondering if he would skip her altogether or, worse, say something, before he smoothly pecked her cheek with his soft lips and withdrew, leaving her in a mist of confusion and his cologne.

“Now, Grammy, I got you a gift,” Elvis said in his serious ‘about to recite a psalm or overwhelm you with information about his latest fascination’ voice. “But I couldn’t get the guy to deliver it sooner than tomorrow. Something about unions and overtime. So, just so I didn’t show up empty-handed, you see the white Cadillac out front?” He adjusted his sunglasses and hung a keychain from his index finger, gently bringing up Grandma’s hand so that he could drop it into her palm. “It’s yours.”

Grandma put an overwhelmed hand on top of her head like she was actively trying to stop him from blowing her mind.

“Look here, Elvis, you can’t be throwing your money away on an old woman like me…” 

Elvis laughed, his face breaking into that dazzling, irrepressible expression that you couldn’t help but try to mirror, and squeezed her into his side.

“‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God’, you know that one, don’t you?” he murmured down to her ear.

“Matthew 19:24,” Grandma nodded solemnly. “Amen.”

“Besides, pretty lady like you needs a fancy car to go on all her dates in style.”

Chancy beamed as she watched her grandmother flush pink and regress about sixty years as she swatted at his arm.

“C’mon, Grandma, let’s go take a look at your new car,” Alicia suggested, sending Chancy a meaningful look. Though Chancy wasn’t sure what the meaning actually was.

Everyone followed and stood on the porch as the tiny old lady primly perched in the extravagant boat of a car. Somehow, Chancy found herself standing next to Elvis though she had been forcing herself not to look at him except when everyone else was. Which was most of the time, but it felt like a compromise.

“This is really nice of you,” she murmured. He didn’t say anything at first, smiling slightly as Alicia tried to enthusiastically strong-arm Grandma into turning over the engine.

“She deserves it,” he said softly. “And, well, she’s the reason you-“ He couldn’t seem to finish the thought, gesturing to her head to toe with a bejewelled hand.

The pressure grew the longer they stood there and Chancy’s thoughts started yammering louder and louder at the wall of her skull. She wondered if she should say something, try to explain maybe why she never told anyone about the two of them, apologise for running off (no), tell him that she missed him? She could ask him how the rest of the tour went, that seemed relatively innocuous, or was it..

Eventually, he grabbed her hand, shooting her a smile that had her questioning whether they had ever argued at all.

“C’mon, let’s go take the birthday girl for a ride in her new car.”

Not giving anyone the chance to make a choice, Elvis had Chancy and her grandmother crammed into the front seat beside him and Alicia and some of the guys piled in the back before he took off down the uneven drive, laughing uproariously as he turned a ten-thousand dollar car into a pretty effective fairground ride.

As they hit the highway, Chancy fretted over her grandmother’s ability to recover from shock for the second time that evening as Elvis had them going like he was trying to break a record.

“I think Grandma would like to celebrate another birthday next year, Elvis. I’m pretty sure we all would!” Chancy said nervously, watching the speed gauge creeping up relentlessly. He shot her a gleeful grin and lifted his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, making her wonder how much he could actually see out of those at night.

“You don’t trust me, honey?” he asked. He shrugged. “You’re probably right, you should take over…” He lifted his hands off the wheel and there was a chorus of cries and pleas which only tickled him more, but at last he took control of the car again. Chancy closed her eyes and exhaled and she felt his warm hand grip her knee.

“Hey,” he murmured softly. “I got ya. You okay?” She nodded, earning herself a lopsided smile and his fingers rubbing the inside of her knee.

Back at the house, they all tumbled out of the car like sailors returning home after months at sea. The guys played this up a little because they knew that it amused Elvis, but Alicia and Grandma were genuine as they linked arms to walk to the porch.

Chancy watched them through the windshield as Elvis continued to grip her knee; not hard enough to force her to stay, but firm enough that she didn’t feel right pulling away.

“How long are you home?” she asked, watching him fiddling with the radio, catching snatches of songs before dismissing them and moving on.

“Couple of weeks. Then I got rehearsals in LA before Vegas.” He frowned as the airwaves were filled with the sound of electric guitars riffing and abruptly shut off the radio. “Goddamn caterwauling. Who in the hell is that?” She looked up in the direction of his irritated nod to see Cliff peering into the passenger window of the Stutz.

“Oh, that’s Alicia’s boyfriend. Although I think he may be considering leaving her for your car…”

“Boyfriend, but I thought she got married. I mean, the kid and everything.”

“Yeah, it didn’t work out. They got divorced last year.”

“Hmm, lot of that going around…” He considered his right hand around her knee, before tapping her a few times with his thumb. “Well, guess I better go check him out.”

“Oh no,” Chancy murmured, before hastily following Elvis out of the car. She passed the men as Elvis, backed up by a couple of his guys, approached Cliff, who immediately stumbled back with a look of awe on his face.

“Oh, Elvis, man, it’s an honour to meet you. I’ve been a fan since you started out, man, since I was a little kid!”

Chancy winced at that one and stood at the screen door to watch what happened next. Elvis was speaking too softly to be heard from the porch, but she saw Cliff straighten and look very serious, before nodding emphatically. Elvis nodded too and opened the door to his Stutz. Cliff went to lean forward, but stopped again and looked up at Elvis, who smiled one of his charming smiles and pulled the corners of his jacket back as he hooked his hands somewhere near his hips.

“What’s going on?” Alicia asked, opening the screen door.

“I’m pretty sure Elvis just threatened your boyfriend with his gun,” Chancy answered. “And now he’s letting him sit in his car.”

“Sounds about right,” Alicia nodded. “I should go… chaperone.”

Chancy went back into the house where Charlie and Billy were helping her grandmother uncover platters on the kitchen table and counters. Like a good hostess, she encouraged them to help themselves to the leftovers from the party before declaring that she had had enough excitement for one day and was going to retire to bed.

A few minutes later, Elvis came in and the kitchen suddenly became smaller and more dingy in comparison. At least in Chancy’s eyes; he, however, acted like he had lived there all his life, taking the plate that Billy handed him and eyeing up the food.

“Am I supposed to just serve this up with my hands, man?” he muttered, and Billy and Charlie started rooting through the drawers for cutlery.

“Make yourself at home, boys,” Chancy remarked, leaning against the sink.

“Looks like we have to. Didn’t Grammy teach you nothing about hospitality?” Elvis smirked, examining a mini slider pensively before taking a bite.

Chancy feigned outrage and whipped some dishwater and suds at him. He jumped out of the way, looking momentarily surprised before laughing.

“Careful now, woman,don’t make me shoot you,” he warned, his eyes twinkling as he patted the colt tucked into the front of his waistband.

“Is that how you threatened Cliff? Where is he, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s taking your sister for a drive.” Of course he was. “He’s a nice guy, we just had to discuss some things first.”

Chancy snorted and went to the refrigerator, unconsciously sliding into the role of hostess and passing out drinks to everyone. Elvis gave her a look when some of the boys took up her offer of beer and she was tempted to have one herself, just to remind him that he was in her house. Except she didn’t actually like beer and her petulance had its limits.

By that time, Alicia and Cliff had returned, giddy from their ride in the Stutz. Cliff was excitedly telling Elvis and the guys about the features like he was trying to sell them the car and while Elvis was grinning good naturedly, the boys were shooting each other sneering looks. Alicia caught that too, because she grabbed her boyfriend by the arm and thanked Elvis for letting them take the car for a spin.

Elvis shook his head as she dragged Cliff out of the room while he was still babbling about automatic headlights and gold-plated steering wheels.

“God, Lil'un is all grown up, it’s so weird, man. You remember when she was gaga for me?”

“Yeah, well, lots of us girls used to be silly like that,” Chancy returned, taking a sip of her coke. She watched as the barb landed, and he lowered his head, the muscle in his cheek flickering as he clenched his jaw.

“Yeah, used to be,” he echoed with an empty chuckle, lifting his eyebrows to the floor.

Charlie immediately forced an abrupt laugh and tried to lighten the mood with a joke like a desperate comedian losing his audience.

“No, cool it, man,” Elvis snapped, shooting him a dark look.

Chancy took a deep breath, looked around her poky kitchen, and drew confidence from the fact that she was home.

“Could I talk to you?” she asked, not recognising her own voice. Elvis glanced up like he wasn’t sure she was talking to him, before nodding. “We can go up to my room.”

As they walked to the stairs, she could hear the guys start murmuring and whispering in the kitchen like a sewing circle.

“Mind your step, some of these old boards are pretty creaky. Don’t wanna wake Grandma.”

“Well, if that ain’t a goddamn blast from the past,” he mumbled dryly. She snorted and tried to focus on what she was doing, growing increasingly aware that his eyes were probably on her ass. Not speaking made it worse, increasing the tension so that by the time they reached her bedroom door, her heart was pounding and her hands were sweating.

As soon as she turned on the light, she regretted her choice of venue, hurrying to snatch up discarded outfit choices for the party from her bed and chair.

“Don’t say a word!”

He lifted his hands in submission and just smirked, his apple cheekbones making a full appearance as he took off his sunglasses and looked around.

“You can take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the newly cleared chair as she perched on the edge of her bed. He promptly sat down next to her on the bed. The glint in his eye told her that he knew exactly what he was doing too. She stood up again and stepped across to her dresser, leaning back against it.

“I just wanted to talk to you because I didn’t like how we left it,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And we never talk about it, you know? We never-“

“Aw hell, what’s there to say, honey?” he asked, tapping his glasses against his knee like he was keeping the beat. “We were neither us firing on all cylinders. I weren’t myself, I just… weren’t myself. The goddamn tour, everything going on with Priscilla, every sonofabitch from Alaska to Florida tryin’ to either take me out or shake me down. It’s a goddamn mess.”

“Well, yeah,” she said hesitantly, “but-“

“And that chick… You know she went to the papers? Told ‘em she and I are engaged and that we’re getting married in October. I don’t know why she picked October. I tell ya, everyone’s got an angle.” He sighed, a huge exhale that lifted his shoulders and made him look like a sad little boy facing the music.

“You know the goddamn truth of it? The only girl that’s never run to the papers, never told no one that we were engaged or married or that I knocked her up by having a picture taken with her, was you.” He looked up at her through his brows, his thick lashes and open pouty mouth striking that perfect balance between pitiful and beautiful in a way that had her digging her nails into her arms to stop herself from reaching for him.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve said a lot more to a lot of people,” she murmured.

“No, you know you don’t need to say it out loud for me to hear it, baby. You never have. Just think it real loud and I’ll get it.”

Chancy raised an eyebrow and tried to find some grit within herself as he approached her slowly, pretending to listen to her thoughts.

“Whoa, Cha-Cha, I-I didn’t know you knew those words!” he teased, winking. “Goddamn! Don’t think even I’ve heard some of ‘em before. Lord have mercy!” He took hold of her hands, waggling them loosely, before sliding his fingers between hers. “C’mon, baby, you know you can’t stay mad at me, just like I can’t stay mad at you.”

“I don’t know, I’m still pretty mad.” She would have preferred it if her voice had been a little less breathy.

He ducked down, giving her a full blast of his little boy’s pout, then bit his lip and leaned in. He kissed her, a soft touch of his lips against hers

“How about now?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” she insisted, but wrinkling her nose did nothing to negate the stupid smile on her face. He kissed her again, harder, tilting his head curiously.

“What about now?”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Uh oh, we seem to be going backwards, let me try-“ He scooped her up by the waist and caressed her lips with his, his tongue sliding in to meet hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew up to her tiptoes, pressing in as warmth flushed through her, need driving out anger, determination, and thought. She was just one of those silly girls again. Or always had been.  @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @missmaywemeetagain, @from-memphis-with-love, @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @c-rosenn, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel, @freudianslumber, @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters, @prompted-wordsmith. @literally-just-elvis-fics, @eliseinmemphis. @lookingforrainbows, @stylespresleyhearted, @amydarcimarie, @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus

[ohtobeleah]

yes we want cuckold Jake 🙌🙌🙌

Cuckold Hangman huh? You dirty bitches. You read Cuckold Rooster and thought damn that was good but what about if it was Jake?

Well. This is what it would be like to cuckold Jake Seresin.

You’d ask Bob to participate. You know that out of everyone, Jake would get the most riled up listening to you moan on and on about just how good Robert Floyd could actually fuck if given the opportunity. He didn’t disappoint—and you were most certainly correct in your presumption.

“Ohhh god oh fuck, yes! Bob!!” It was torture to hear you screaming for another man. But the way Jake's cock throbbed against his lower abdomen was otherworldly. He’d never felt a pain so pleasurable. "So good baby, I bet you wish you were fucking me huh?" Your eyes never left Jakes as you teased him. "Too bad you can't, haven't been good enough, needed to find someone who could fuck me just right."

“You like it when I fuck you in front of your boyfriend huh?” Bob taunted as his hand came down roughly against your ass. Causing you to jolt forward on your hands before he was slamming you back against him. “Uh uh, no running—isn’t that right Hangman? We don’t run from a single inch.”

Jake couldn’t respond, his mouth had been stuffed with a pair of your panties before you’d tied one of his nice dress ties around his mouth. Gaging him. Of course he mumbled something in response. A needy, whiny mess as he strained against the cuffs that kept him bolted down in the chair in the corner. Forgotten about like an old toy you no longer wanted to play with.

“What was that?” You asked between Bob's harsh but oh-so-incredible thrusts. “He said he wants you to fuck me harder Bob.” Jake's eyes lit up with animosity, moaning incoherently around your panties as Bob fucked into you a little harder. His hands gripping at your hips, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Oh fuck—yes fuck me, Bob!”

“You feel so good Y/n, the way you’re clenching around my dick is gonna get you in trouble.” Bob groaned from behind you as he let his head fall back. Lazily thrusting in and out of you until he was close. Edging himself. “Wanna switch positions?” You didn’t response, you simply crawled up the bed a little while Bob fell to his back against the mattress. Jerking himself off while you sauntered over to where Jake sat. Fisting his cock in your hands as you whispered in his mouth.

“You love seeing me stuffed full, don’t you baby?” Nodding, Jake moaned around your panties as you straddled his waist. Grinding down against him. “Should I uncuff you and take you both? Or should I leave you here to sit in your own mess?” Again, Jake couldn’t speak, but you knew what he wanted you to do. Sinking down on him slowly for a few moments as Bob worked himself over on your bed.

“Mmmm, mmmm!” Jake couldn’t resist, the feeling of your slicked pussy clenching around his shaft was too much after being deprived for so long—he was a goner. Hot spurts of cum filling you up with only a few strokes. “Mmmm—!”

“I’m gonna go fuck Bob now baby, you stay here and take notes.” With Jakes cum dripping down your thighs, you sauntered back over to where Bob was laying. Patiently waiting. Straddling his waists as your hands took a hold of his shoulders for stability.

“Yeah Bagman—watch and learn.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

#Stricklyscandalous // Jake Seresin

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Sore Fucking Losers: Rusty Nail x f!reader

Warnings: little ooc Rusty, gore, mutilation, multiple character deaths, crying, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, mentions of rape. Read my post about the Dice Game. It has all the rules. I’ve decided to roll dice to get this written.

Minors DNI +18

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

A/N: This is probably the grossest thing I’ve written.

Masterlist

“I don’t know why you have to be such a dick all the time.” You mumble, arms crossed and brows scowling as you mess with a wrapper on the car floor with your foot.

“It’s a fucking joke. Get over yourself.” Your boyfriend says, pushing you hard into the car door. He tries to play it off as a joke with the rest of his friends in the car, it works easily on them. They don’t exactly like you.

“Yeah come on, you’re being a bitch.” Luke says, you try and ignore his remark and look out the window.

“Yeah but when isn’t she.” Shanda giggles, the rest of the car laughs along with her. Shanda says shit just to say it. You know she’s been jealous of you and Xavier being together and honestly, she could have him. You’re sure she is having him, he always jumps to her defense but never to yours.

“Gas station up ahead, gonna fill up and we can take a break.” Xavier says.

About five minutes later he parks at a gas pump, Luke, Shanda, and Riley get out and go inside the gas station, you get out once you see them inside but Xavier stops you. He grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards him. Like a parent lecturing their child, he mumbles in your ear.

“Better shut the fuck up for the rest of the trip and stop being such a bitch. You’re embarrassing the hell outta me. I’ll fuck you up if you try any of that shit again, okay?”

You nod frantically. You feel as his grip tightens in a warning before letting go.

“Sitting here acting like a damn pussy. Live a little.” You notice his eyes roll before you turn around quickly walk into the gas station. You head towards the restroom and your stomach churns as you notice only you and Shanda are in there. She smirks and you try and avoid her by going into the nearest stall.

The black haired girl is quick to grab your forearm and shove you into the restroom counter. “You’re so fucking embarrassing. Can’t wait for Xavier to break up with you. You don’t deserve him. Surprised he even chose someone like you. Fucking Virgin. You sit there in your dorm room all day, can’t even kiss a man correctly. You’re pathetic. Xavier needs something more. Guess it’s a good thing he has me.” Shanda pulls your hair. You don’t do anything about it, knowing who’s side everyone would take.

She lets go and leaves. You move into one of the stalls to use the toilet.

You wash your hands and take a breather before heading out the door.

Something feels off as you walk outside to the pumps. You look around before noticing your shit scattered all over the pavement. Your boyfriend’s car out of sight.

You blink multiple times trying to make sense of what just happened. You walk over to your stuff and gather it up so you can easily carry it to the curb. You sigh and check your phone for cell service. You’d have to call your mom, you didn’t have enough money for a plane ticket.

Nothing, you frown. You’d have to go to the next town for it.

You should’ve guessed they would’ve left you. They made fun of everything you did and everything you didn’t do. They were just straight up assholes. You pinch the bridge of your nose in embarrassment before looking up and around again. You need to find a ride into the closest town.

You see a tall man, hands shoved in his pockets walking away from his semi truck.

This is so risky.

“Sir! Excuse me!” You wave at him and walk over quickly, but nervously. He stops and looks like he’s glaring at you. You can’t see his eyes though, so you wouldn’t know. Your voice shakes. “I’m so sorry for bothering you. I uh, need a ride to the next town over. The gas station doesn’t have cell service and I need to call my mom.” You explain. The man is quiet. “I can pay you if you need-“

“No need. I’ll give you a ride, lemme get’a pack a’ smokes real quick.” He grumbles. You nod quickly and move aside to let him get into the small store. You grab your two bags and hurry to the truck.

The gears in your head turn, you’ve seen this truck before. You know it. Same state plate and truck color, the logo is all the same too.

This is the truck Xavier almost ran off the road.

“Need help with your bags, hun?” The deep voice makes you jump. You turn wide eyed and the man almost seems more menacing.

“Yes! Yes if you don’t mind!”

The man opens the truck door and grabs your bags, placing them between the passenger and driver’s seat, he then slides over and you get in after him. You slam the door shut and buckle in.

He starts the truck and heads back onto the road.

“I didn’t get your name.” You say, trying to be polite. You relax into the car seat and he answers.

“Just call me Rusty. Yours?”

You introduce yourself with a kind smile, then it turns to a frown after thinking about Xavier. “I should probably apologize for earlier.” Your hands fumble with your jacket zipper, from the corner of your eye you see Rusty tilts his head. You continue, “My boyfriend… well I guess ex boyfriend now, he almost drove you off the road. I recognized your truck. He was being real fucking stupid with his driving and I yelled at him. Him and his friends got mad at me, asked him why he had to be such a dick. Pushed me into the door of the car.” You scoff.

“Ah that was you guys? You help me find them I might teach em a thing or two.” Rusty says, you furrow your brows and look him up and down. What’s the worse that could happen?

“Yeah sure, they’re supposed to be stopping at a motel a few hours from here.”

-

“So what are we planning on doing to them?” You ask unlocking the motel room door.

“We?” Rusty steps to the side and shuts the door.

“I mean yeah we, they’re pieces of shit. I wanna help. Little bit of revenge on my part, it’ll make me feel better after already wasting two years with them.” You explain plopping down on one of the queen sized beds in the room. Rusty leans on the table and crosses his arms.

“You sure? I tell you what’s gonna happen, but you better not run, you run you’re dead.” Rusty admits, your stomach churns slightly.

“I swear I will not run, I won’t even tell anyone.” You cross your heart like a child and he chuckles.

“Gonna play some games with them. Only about an hour until my place, we’re bringing them there, playing my favorite game and that’s it.”

You furrow your brows and let out a scoff. “That’s it? You had me all scared and shit Rusty. Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me ruining from some fucking game.” You stand up and playfully push his shoulder, you see his mouth is still resting in a frown.

“How you think we’re getting them there hun? You think they’re just gonna do as I say? Get in their car and drive there?” Rusty says darkly. Worry crosses your features, your hands tingle and you wipe the hand you pushed Rusty with up and down your jeans nervously.

“I- uh guess I didn’t think of that.” You mumble.

“I know you didn’t. S’okay, we can play two games at once to make you feel less guilty. Hate to drag you inta all a’this. You won’t be playin’ the main game. You’ll just watch.” Rusty explains.

“What’s the second game?”

“You decide that.”

-

You watch Rusty sleep, not being able to sleep yourself after given the options for the second game. Some part of you felt guilty for what would happen to your ex and his friends. But another part of you told you to suck it up cause they’d done so much worse to you.

-

“Hey, hey!”

You bolt up and pant, looking around frantically.

Rusty’s hand holds your shoulder in an almost comforting way.

“Why don’t you go ahead and wait in the truck for me, yeah? Don’t gotta help.”

You look at him with tired eyes and nod, yawning and stretching you get up and pull your shoes on shuffling towards the door.

-

You stare at the four people passed out in the back, hands tied and mouths gagged. It won’t be long before you’re back. You smirk and decide to get more sleep.

-

You sit in a barn, off to the side from the table Xavier and his friends sit at. They’re all slowly waking up. As soon as they realize they’re not where they’re supposed to be they panic.

They look like fish out of water. You try not to laugh. Your hands are loosely tied in front. This is your game, makes you feel less guilty. Rusty promised you wouldn’t ever play his game and he kept his promise with loose rope and observing away from the table. The chair sits so you can see everyone.

Rusty comes in about a half an hour later. Snot is running down Xavier’s nose as he cries.

“What do you want with US?” Your ex’s voice cracks as he lets out a nasty sob.

“You like to play games?” Rusty mumbles.

“W-hat?”

“I said, YOU LIKE TO PLAY GAMES?” Rusty’s voice booms, it startles you a bit. Your stomach rolls. Shanda let’s put a whine.

“I- fuck I guess?!” Xavier whimpers.

“You guess?! You fucking guess?! Weren’t you the one seeing if you could knock me off the road?” The broad man grabs Xavier’s chin.

“No! No! That was, ugh.” You see Rusty’s finger tips go white as he grips the younger man’s face harder. “It was her! She’s the one who gave the idea!” Xavier points towards you and you scowl. The rest of them nod and your chest tightens your teeth bare back in defense.

“Mm, just don’t think that’s true. But we’ll let God decide whether you’re a liar or not. Through my favorite game. Whatever you roll the person across from you gets.” Rusty pulls a pair of dice out of his pocket. “Roll pretty boy.” He says throwing them towards Xavier.

“Well what about her?” Luke asks.

“Occupied, already have her playing a game.”

Xavier hesitantly grabs the die as he watches Rusty. His hands visibly shake as he rolls.

Eight.

Rusty walks to a shelf next to you and smirks. “Ear.” He grabs a razor and walks over to the person across from Xavier, Luke.

Luke whimpers. “Please! You don’t have to do this! We- we’re sorry! You can let us go and we’ll forget all about this! Won’t even contact the police!” Luke gags, his cries make Rusty laugh. Your stomach churns. This really is your reality. You’re going to watch your exe’s friends get tortured and possibly die.

Rusty shows the blade in Luke’s face and turns it. His cries turn into hysterical sobs, Rusty cuts down his ear, and blood flows out, everyone around the table gags and sobs trying to turn away until it’s done.

Rusty slams the ear on the table and moves the die to Riley.

Nine. Freedom.

“Lucky, lucky.” Rusty’s voice rumbles. “Got some decisions to make here girl.” Everyone looks at Shanda. “You got a minute to untie all your friends and run or you can just save yourself.” Rusty goes behind Shanda’s chair and begins untying her. “Times a ticking though.”

Shanda is untangled from her chair and gets up, looking around frantically she makes a run for the barn doors. Her friends cry out for her but she ignores them. Rusty watches his watch for 60 seconds. When time is up he grabs a shotgun then moves the die to Luke. He’s barely conscious. “Roll, I wanna see what I’m lookin’ forward to when I get back.”

Luke lazily takes the die and rolls. Ten. Eye. Rusty nods and makes his way out the same barn doors Shanda was running from.

It isn’t long until a gunshot is heard and Rusty is dragging a dead woman back inside. He goes over to a shelf and grabs a melon baller. You cringe at the feeling going through your body.

Xavier sobs. “No, no please! Please! Baby! Do something about this please! Don’t you love me? Don’t you care?” Xavier looks at you in the eyes and you scoff, so sick of his bullshit.

“Why should I give a fuck? You never gave a fuck about me, never defended me. You never broke it off with me and threatened me when I tried to! You just wanted control! Now you don’t have it and you’re a fucking pussy! Trying to say how sorry you are. You aren’t sorry, you never will be. Fuck if I care what happens to you!”

Your hands slip through the restraints and you get up grabbing a fistful of Xavier’s shirt. “You gonna keep spewing lies Xavier? Always are, talking about I’m a virgin and shit! Ain’t even gonna tell any of them how you forced yourself on me MULTIPLE godamn times! Fuck you!” You grab the dice and roll. “You get this too. Four for Chest.” You laugh.

“Go ahead Rusty. I’ll be in the house.” You say beginning to walk out of the barn.

-

Rusty comes in hours later, his shirt, pants, and jean jacket are stained. You get up and walk over to him.

“They ain’t bothering’ you no more.”

“Good, Rusty?”

He looks down at you.

“Is it okay if I stay with you for awhile? I’ll call my mom about Xavier leaving me and just say I found a Bed and Breakfast to stay at and vacation in for a few weeks. Then I’ll head back home. I’m just- not ready yet I guess, I need time to process everything.” You explain, your body tenses up waiting for Rusty to answer.

“Sure. You stay as long as you need to. You swear on your life you ain’t tell in’ no one?”

“I swear. You can drag me down with you. Thank you so much. This isn’t a common occurrence though is it?” You ask genuinely.

“I try to not bring my issues back home. That’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Just don’t wanna get caught up in more shit.”

“Of course.”

[bordysbae]

could you do 5. “stop following me around like a lost puppy!” … “maybe you being around isn’t so bad.” with Turcotte?

“limelight”

alex turcotte x f!reader

alex moving to michigan was hard on him. he’s living in the hughes household, since his parents stayed back in illinois, and of course that’s a big change on anyone. you’ve lived across the street from the hughes family ever since they moved here a few years ago, and it’s been wonderful. you and jack are the same age, and grew quite close because of 1. how close your guys’ mothers got, and 2. the ungodly amount of classes you guys always mange to have together. everyone thinks you guys are dating, but you and jack are strictly just friends who carpool to school together.

as you approach jacks car, you see the passenger side window rolled down. "y/n, sorry you're in the back now," jack shrugs, as you're met with the face of the famous 'alex turcotte’ who you've been nonstop hearing about.

"the hell? i've always been shotgun," you whine, meanwhile buckling your seatbelt as jack backs off of your driveway. you then formally introduce yourself to alex, and tell him who and who not to be friends with at school. jack chiming in to rebuttal your opinions every so often.

first days of school are always a pain, but seeing your friends after being gone all summer instantly lifts the mood. as you shut your locker jack’s standing behind it, waiting to walk with you to class. this isn’t an uncommon thing, but now this time it appears you have third period with both jack and alex.

“oh alex, you have a class with us?” you ask, holding your textbook close to your chest.

“yeah, wanna see my schedule?” he asks, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. it comes as a surprise to see you have third, fourth, and sixth with alex. you and jack only have first and third together.

“damn, we have three classes together! i guess you won’t be getting sick of me,” you tease him.

—

you were wrong. alex immediately grew popular. maybe it was because of hockey, or maybe it was because of his personality, who knows? but what you do know is, alex didn’t listen to your advice on who to be friends with and who not to be. and unfortunately he adapted their shitty douchebag personas.

you’ve watched him change from that sweet shy boy you met only two months ago, to the prince of your highschool. the first month and half was great. you guys were becoming close, and early morning carpools were super fun. but when alex started to realize the limelight he was gaining, he immediately started to gloat in it. and what’s worst of all is that you were really starting to like him too.

“you guys going to the football game tonight?” you ask the two boys in the front seat.

“yeah, i bought my ticket yesterday. did you get a ticket alex?” jack asks.

“nah, andrew is just gonna get me in for free. perks of being friends with the star quarterback, yeah?” alex chuckles. you roll your eyes, and jack just chuckles along with him. normally you, jack, and alex walk to third period togther, but recently it’s just been you and jack. “hey have you noticed anything new with alex?” you ask jack.

“uh no, why?”

“oh. i feel like he’s just been cold with me i guess? it’s like he got popular and changed, but maybe i’m wrong. oh well, let’s go,” you shrug before turning on your heel and heading down the hallway with jack.

you and alex usually walk from third period to fourth together, but as he speeds out the classroom, you furrow your brows and speed up to catch him. “alex ar-“ you begin, and he snaps his head from his conversation with one of the football douches named matthew.

“oh my god y/n, what?” he asks in an annoyed tone of voice. matthew then peaks around from behind alex and chuckles before stating, “so y/n, when are you gonna stop sucking jacks dick?! you’re so obsessed with him it’s embarrassing honestly. he doesn’t want you, stop following him around everywhere. just get your own car, i bet he hates driving you. i know turcs here hates having you in the car,” he says, shoving himself into alex’s shoulder while laughing.

matthew has always teased you about you and jacks friendship, but never to the extent he just did. but what catches you off guard even more is alex’s response. “good one dude, and yeah literally stop following all of the guys around like a lost puppy! no wonder people call you a puck bunny y/n, you follow us around like crazy. and don’t get all sensitive and cry about it, i’m just tryna help,” alex shrugs before separating from matthew and going into the classroom.

you stand in the hallway with your mouth agape. you’re in utter shock at what alex had just said. you slowly shuffle your feet into the classroom, and slouch in your seat that you stupidly chose in front of alex. you ignore his idiotic laughs from behind you, and sigh. him and that damn limelight.

—

a few days go by, and you and alex have hardly spoken. a few occasional words here and there, but not much. as you’re walking to fourth period, you notice alex and his new group walking not too far ahead of you. alex is trying to tell a story, but matthew, their ring leader, is talking over him.

“turcs dude, no one’s listening. can you just let me talk?” matthew groans, and immediately alex’s face falls. his once beaming smile is turned to an embarrassed and shy frown. you bravely tap his shoulder, and he turns around to see you.

“i’ll listen to your story alex, wanna start from the beginning?” you say, and he smiles. he begins to tell you the story about his amazing hockey goal over the weekend. although you don’t really care, you still listen. as you both sit down in class, you turn around to face him.

“thank you for listening y/n. and i’m so sorry about what i said, maybe you being around isn’t so bad,” he sheepishly smiles.

“it’s okay alex, you got carried away with your new friends and that’s okay. but i told you they’re douches, i was just waiting till you realized that” you smile before turning towards the front of the class. as you’re exiting the room, alex grabs your hand to slow you down.

“y/n can i make it up to you by getting ice cream later tonight?”

“is this you asking me out, turcs?” you tease and his cheeks turn rosy. you then quickly realize you never answered him, “of course, it sounds like fun!” you smile, and he lets out a silent sigh of relief followed by a cheesy grin.

[player1064]

reverse of ur outed!gary fic: Jamie comes out early in his career (all aggressively "so fucking WHAT??!!" about it). Cue closeted gary (who still hates scousers) trying (and failing) to ask for tips on coming out whilst still playing.

Jamie doesn't realise Gary's gay until they're proper friends, YEARS after retirement

I've been thinking this one over trying to work out how I wanna do it and well anyway today I finally sat down to write it and uh at what point does a drabble stop being a drabble and start being just. a fic. bc this one comes in at 1.2k words so like. hi!

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“Is Neville staring at us again?”

“I mean –” Stevie quickly glances back over his shoulder, “—yeah, he is, but he’s always had that sort of –” he looks at Jamie and widens his eyes in an imitation of Neville’s default glare, “—y’know, he’s just stare-y. ‘s probably nowt to do w’you, don’t be so vain.”

Except, all day Jamie feels eyes burning into the back of his head, and every time he turns around Neville is there, pretending he’s not been looking straight at him.

It’s Jamie’s first England camp since coming out, and until now he’s been so safely wrapped up in the bubble of the Liverpool dressing room that he’d almost forgotten that the rest of the England squad, especially the Mancs, are fucking dicks. Always have been, and among the Mancs there is none more dickish than Mister Manc himself, Gary fucking Neville.

He’s always ignored the Liverpool players, has always shot glares at them from his little huddle of friends, but Jamie’s pretty sure it’s worse this time around. And only one thing has changed, so.

Homophobic little prick.

Neville may always be surrounded by his little gang but Jamie is too, he’s got Stevie and Mickey and Redders, so he doesn’t have to make any attempts at civil conversation and everyone can just go on ignoring each other, both on and off the pitch.

(And people wonder why it’s been so long since England won a trophy.)

But then Jamie sprains his ankle during five-a-side, and he’s fine, really, but he’s sent off the pitch to the treatment room.

The treatment room, where Neville – who’s done his calf or his hamstring or his who-gives-a-shit – is going through his physio exercises.

Neville stops when he walks in and, surprise surprise, he stares, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Carragher,” he bites out in greeting.

“Neville,” Jamie responds with a curt nod. “Don’t worry your ugly little head, I’ll just go back to my room. Can’t do much to me ankle ‘sides rest it, anyways.”

“No, you should – I mean, you can stay. Makes no difference to me, like.”

“Fine. Cheers, then.”

He limps over to the mini-freezer that holds the ice packs, then hops up onto a bench and rests his foot on a cushion.

Neville keeps staring at him, the whole time.

“’s not catching, y’know,” Jamie grumbles.

“Wassat?”

“Bein’ gay. So you can stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that, ‘s not like I’m gonna try anything. Not w’you, that’s for sure.”

Neville blinks a few times. “That’s not what –” he scowls. “—yer not special, y’know, just ‘cause you like suckin’ dick. Yer not special at all, are you, how many minutes’ve you played for England now?”

“Fuck off, you’re the one who won’t stop starin’ at me. ‘scuse me for not wantin’ to get beaten up by some skinny Manc.”

“I’ve not been starin’.”

“You fucking have. I’d ask if you ‘ave a crush but I think I’d rather take the beating, thanks.”

Neville scowls again, his cheeks flushed, and then he storms out of the room.

Jamie doesn’t speak to him again that international break.

*

“’ve I got somethin’ in me beard?”

Gary must not have realised he was staring, because he blinks and ducks his head, mumbles a “sorry, Carra,” just like Jamie knew he would.

Because Gary’s always staring, it’s just what he does. Jamie’s used to it by now, that intense focus of his. It’s almost nice, sometimes. Flattering.

They’ve finished shooting for the day and are sat in a pub near the Sky campus. Jamie’s just finishing his third pint, while Gary’s still nursing his second. Probably for the best, really, he can be such a lightweight.

Case in point: Gary suddenly turns all serious, frowning at Jamie and saying, “Carra,” with all the same gravity as if he’d used his full name.

“Yeah?” Jamie asks lightly, because who can be bothered with all that.

“Carra, why d’we never talk about it?”

“Talk about what, Gaz?”

“Me ‘n’ you.”

Jamie splutters into his drink. “You what?”

He must be going insane, is the thing, because he’s pretty sure Gary’s just asked –

“About me. ‘n’ you. And whatever that might’ve – meant. Back then, I mean, obviously not – obviously not now, ‘m not –”

“Gary, what the bloody ’ell are you talkin’ about?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the lighting, but Gary’s flushed a delightful shade of pink. He stares down at where his hands are resting on the table, fidgeting.

“Why’re you makin’ me say it, I were young, it – it’s embarrassing.”

Jamie waits, arms crossed.

“Ugh, fine,” Gary huffs eventually, “since you’re insistin’ on bein’ all obtuse, James, fine. We’ve been workin’ together for years now, I’d like to think we’re friends, and I were just wonderin’ why you’ve never mentioned the crush I used to have on you, in England days. I mean, I know you wouldn’t – like, I am aware, that I’m not – y’know? But you tease me about everythin’ else, I never understood why not that, too.”

It takes a second, to process.

You can’t blame Jamie for that, surely, because what the actual fuck. Like, what the fuck.

Gary’s staring at him again, expectant. Nervous, maybe.

What the fuck.

“You –” Jamie starts, because he worries if he doesn’t say something soon Gary might get all wobbly. “You – Gary, you what?”

Gary’s flush deepens.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I know it’s – I know I weren’t exactly your type, back then. Or now, I s’pose, though, ha, don’t think I’m really anyone’s type, am I? Y’don’t need to rub it in, I were just wonderin’ why y’never mentioned it.”

“You –” Jamie tries again, still unable to get past his first sticking point. “Since when d’you like men?” Since when did you like me, he wants to ask, but that seems like far too dangerous a territory for three beers deep on a Wednesday night.

“You what, Jamie? ‘ve you been hit in the head?”

“I could ask you the same! You’re straight!”

“D’you need me to call a doctor? Straight, Jesus. Me? ‘m fucking gayer’n you, I’ll tell you that for free.”

“I – we’ve been workin’ together nearly ten year, why’d you never tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I ‘ave to tell you, you’ve known since 2004!”

“What do you mean, I’ve known since 2004, d’you not think I’d know if there was another gay footballer in the prem, or ‘re you forgettin’ all the shit I went through just because I was the only one.”

They’d not even been friends in 2004. They’d been barely civil, even when they were teammates at England. When the fuck would Jamie have had the chance to –

“Oh my God. ‘re you telling me that whole fucking nightmare of an international break you spent glaring at me like I’d killed your nan was because you fucking liked me?”

“You didn’t know?” Gary screeches. “You’re the one who said it!”

“Oh my God,” Jamie repeats. “We could’ve been doing this for twenty fucking years.”

“What, arguin’? I think you’ll find we –”

Jamie kisses him, both as explanation and because sometimes he really needs to learn when to shut up.