#i said this because i just saw the video of this man blowing up his heads infront of his ex after killing her fiance in front of her eyes

[juanitasupreme]

The way social media just casually got us to watch people death through our phones is insane

[gutsby]

Who’s Your Daddy?

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x Reader

Summary: You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Deadbeat-Perv-Peepaw LOVES corny porn tropes and women over half his age. Stepcest & dubcon technically bc Reader’s locked inside an appliance, but she’s into it (getting fucked, not stuck). One (1) kick in the dick. Spanking. Brat-taming. Choking. Daddy issues. Size kink. Praise kink. Infidelity. Creampie.

Note: Saw this post by @ovaryacted and started BARKING. For my Old Man lovers/daddy issues crew, this one’s for you.

Word count: 8.3k

It was the closest thing to porn you’d ever done before.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to call it that.

And why should you? Financial straits were no anomaly to a girl your age, especially in this economy, and almost everyone you knew had a side gig of some kind. It just so happened that your job required slightly skimpier attire. And a webcam. And some very special…accessories that would likely send your grandmother into cardiac arrest if she ever took a peek inside your bottom dresser drawer.

Okay, it was definitely porn.

But you never showed your face, so it didn’t really count as the same kind of stuff that your family condemned.

You scampered out of your room the second you heard the front door to the house slam closed all the same. Arms laden with G-strings, stockings, satin bralettes, lace and tulle bodysuits of almost every style imaginable, you ran a quick, perilous path to the living room window and made sure to keep your head ducked low as you did. You peered out through the gap in the curtains and had to squint hard to see anything in the midafternoon sun.

Then you saw it and felt instant relief—they were leaving.

Your grandma for one, your mother for second, and wherever the latter was headed, you knew her shadow would be soon to follow. You saw a thick plume of smoke outside and surmised that Joel was somewhere around the other side of the SUV, smoking and droning on about how he was perfectly fi-i-i-ne to drive, don’t be like that.

By ‘like that’ he meant sensible. And by ‘perfectly fine’ he meant two Miller Lites shy of completely shitfaced. You could already imagine the wry smile on your mother’s lips as she tried prying the keys from his hands. Your stepdad would probably plant a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek to win a ‘yes’ in return—and when she shyly reminded him that he couldn’t afford to get another DUI, he’d get pissed and yank them out of her fist anyway.

Fucking loser.

Fucking triple-the-legal-limit dumbass motherfucker.

It didn’t bother you as much today because you knew they were only driving a couple blocks away to get to the farmer’s market, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he’d get caught. Again. Maybe blow a 0.25 this time and land his old, ungrateful, law-breaking ass in Travis County Jail, where his little brother Tommy was likely keeping a cell bench warm for him, per usual.

At any rate, you didn’t have time to be fantasizing now. It was your turn to embody some guy’s grossest wet dreams for the next two to three hours. Stripping away layer after layer of your latest, tightest ‘costume’ while catering to whatever requests happened to float in your inbox, you knew you’d be up to your eyeballs in work. Though almost routine by now, you had to hurry up.

If you could just get the rest of this ridiculous gunk out of your clothing, you’d be all good to go for the job.

TRMAN22: Pour honey on your tits in the next vid???

TRMAN22: Milk too. All over you.

Looking back, you probably shouldn’t have obliged that request. Now you were facing the consequences—forced to throw all your clothes in the washing machine because the milk and honey you’d dumped on yourself for that video had gotten everywhere, and then swiftly congealed while wasting away in a pile of laundry for over a week.

The whole heap smelled rancid. Still felt sticky, too. Presently, you chucked each one inside the washing machine while holding your breath, and as soon as the last was discarded, you sniffed the shirt you had on.

Tolerable. With the rest of your stuff in the wash, you hoped to get at least one request off the checklist:

TRMAN22: Bet you’d look sexy in a schoolgirl outfit!!

TRMAN22: Why don’t you try one on for me?

It was gag-worthy and gross. Slightly alarming for a man who was more than likely twice your age and old enough to remember Watergate, but you agreed to play along. Your old school uniform was, after all, the only clean clothes you had left, and ‘TRMAN22’ was, unfortunately, your top subscriber. He’d paid $300 for this video alone.

TRMAN22: Wear some NEON pink panties for me too ;)

You squatted in front of the washing machine and stuck a hand inside. You sifted around, furrowing your brows.

The brightest undies you owned were in there, soiled, but you figured you could get away with one gross article of clothing, all things considered. You reached a little further and continued to dig. When you couldn’t find it by feel alone, you peered inside the circular, metallic cavern of the washing machine and craned your neck.

Not here…not here…not—

You tilted forward, venturing a closer look with your head, then shoulders, pushing into the machine.

—here, not here, not—

“EW!” you shrieked.

In your search, you’d inadvertently brushed up against a mildewed piece of clothing that had gotten wedged between the grooves of the washing machine’s interior.

A pair of boxers, it seemed.

You recoiled as soon as your fingers grazed the wet and smelly thing. Your skull went crack against the low-sloped ceiling of the appliance, and a jolt of pain was quick to course through you at the contact. You groaned.

Of course Joel had forgotten some old, cum-stained scrap of fabric out of his last load. Always leaving his shit around for you or your mom to pick up like he owned the place. And here you went, again, angrily plugging your nose and pulling as hard as you could on the shorts to get them free from the washing machine. You hardly thought twice, just made a face and then yanked on it.

The boxers wouldn’t budge.

You tugged even harder. The fabric stayed put.

Something akin to a grunt and a whimper, only far more pathetic, slipped out of your mouth, and you slapped the half-hollow steel wall in frustration. Surrounded as you were—fully encased in metal—the sound just echoed.

“Fucking…CUNT.”

You weren’t sure if you were talking to the shorts, the machine, or Joel Miller in the abstract. Or maybe all three. You just hated the thought of washing your lingerie with your stepdad’s skivvies, and no amount of rational thought or practical reasoning could hold you back now.

The tip of your index finger sank deep beneath the same ridge of the wall where the boxers had gotten stuck. You curled it inward, trying to loosen the material up a little. You wriggled your knuckle even further. And just when you managed to get a hold of the cusp of the tangled fabric—just when it seemed the green plaid cluster was about to give way—you heard a low pop. You felt it, too.

Shortly, your finger was pinched inside the deep, blunt valley of steel that had similarly snagged Joel’s boxers. It seemed you’d pushed the tip of your finger so far that you were caught straight down to the second knuckle—trapped between two grooves of unforgiving alloy inside the washing machine tub with no clear means of escape.

You jerked your arm back, panicked. When the metal sank its teeth even deeper, you didn’t stop. Completely heedless of the pain, you operated on impulse and by the feeling of needing to get the fuck out of that little space, quickly, and instead yanked your hand back even harder.

To your horror, your finger was stuck.

“FUCK!”

You stared down at the poor digit, only half-visible inside the wall at this point, then glanced down at the heap of sweaty, sticky, slutty pieces of clothing that were presently strewn about you, and felt an even deeper stab of dread. Stuck inside your family’s washing machine with every bit of damning evidence one could hope to have—and wearing your old school uniform to boot—you realized at once you were fucked if you didn’t get out.

You slammed your palm against the nearest wall once more, shaking your other wrist like an unruly child.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!”

You weren’t good at solving problems. In point of fact, you sucked at all things prudent resolution-related and regularly made it a habit to capitulate whenever you sensed loss inevitable. You were a little like your mother in that way, quick to give in to life’s uglier challenges. The only way you could conceivably claim to be stronger, the only place you always had the strength to say ‘no’ was—

“Aw, shit.”

—Joel.

Your throat tightened as soon as you heard the voice. Your eyes went wide, and the rest of you went numb.

Bent at the waist and kneeling with half your body inside the washing machine, you remained there, motionless. Back arched and ass out. Thanks to the way you’d rolled your old plaid skirt, the fabric covered almost zero cheek.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. Then coughed.

And coughed again, again, and again. Evidently trying to clear the smoke out of his lungs and the surprise from his eyes as he drank in your sight from the doorway.

“What in the—wh—th—” You could hear Joel wheeze, beating his chest with his fist, “What— in— the hell?!”

“Help me,” you hissed.

You weren’t sure why you chose that as your go-to. It just sounded like the right thing to say, and frankly, you weren’t sure how else to distract from the fact Joel was probably gawking at your ass as he coughed up a lung.

“The fuck do you mean ‘help’?! What are you doing?”

The coughing subsided, if only momentarily. You tried pulling back on your finger again to get out, but couldn’t.

“I-I’m…I was just…” you stammered, heart racing.

You heard the tread of heavy footfalls. You felt them.

“Just—trying…” you ventured again, suddenly at a loss for words and breath alike as you felt a presence draw in.

You could smell him.

That realization alone made you want to stop taking in air altogether. It happened out of instinct, really—feeling the shift of two huge boots settle behind your feet and then flinching inward, further inside the metal tub for…safety? A pang of abject humiliation? You were far past the point of civility with the man, caring what he thought, or fearing for your modesty in a position like this, but something about the proximity now just made you itch.

You wished your finger wasn’t jammed inside this appliance so you could give that feeling relief, somehow.

At length, Joel’s voice dragged you back:

“What’s stuck?”

Too calm. A second passed. Then he added, more stern,

“This some fuckin’ joke’a yours or somethin’?”

“No!”

“Then what—”

“My finger. My finger’s stuck.”

You tried to crane your neck to see behind you, but all your eyes had to feast upon was denim. Bluish-grey stonewashed denim, faded with years of use. Joel stood back for a second, as if considering what to do, and then you saw two hands descend to brace themselves against his knees. He bent at the waist to get a better look below.

When his eyes locked with yours, you got the same twist in your gut as you’d felt before, only sharper. Shameful.

The look on Joel’s face was abnormally bright.

“And how on earth did that happen, dumbass?”

Your shame morphed into chagrin in a blink, seeing the ghost of a smile bleed into your stepdad’s features.

“‘Cause of you, leaving your shit in here!” you snapped. Your chin jerked toward the green fabric, “I was just trying to get your boxers unstuck—and my finger…”

Your finger was kind of fucked.

Joel cast a look inside at the source of your frustration. He extended his left arm and reached over your torso, and as he did, you felt the slightest, albeit solid, sort of warmth press in. The man let out a low groan of exertion—likely at the strain the movements placed on his joints.

The warmth got worse. You weren’t sure where it started.

Vaguely, you were aware of Joel’s thumb pressing into your hand. Gliding down your finger, stroking across the spot where your knuckle had gotten caught, he circled over it, slowly, and made another sound in his throat.

“Well that ain’t…good.” Not one to mince words.

By now, your whole body was on fire. You barely had the strength to keep kneeling, much less speak to the man thumbing your hand and pressing his heat so close—

“Just get me out!” you shrieked.

You heard your mother’s voice in that. A shrill, impatient lilt in her speech that came out, invariably, around Joel. Normally, he would have done something to deserve it. But today, with his hand splayed over yours and his breaths as calm and even-keeled as he could hope to have them while he tried to help, he was blameless.

Evidently, he heard a trace of your mother too, because you heard him laugh. You felt the reverberations of his amusement travel up from his belly all the way to his lips.

“Cool your pits, kid.”

For that, you would’ve loved nothing more than to reach back with your free hand and hit him in the balls. But, as it was, this man was your only hope for escape, and he was being tolerably polite, anyway. He pinched your finger between the tips of two of his and gave it a tug.

“Okay, lemme just—” Joel started.

“Why are you home, anyway?”

The question came out more clipped than you meant it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joel countered evenly.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

You reckoned he could probably feel you roll your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see you do it right now. He waited another moment, then leaned back on his haunches and withdrew his arm from the tub.

“Mama don’t like me drinkin’ and drivin’, you know that.”

With that, the warmth was gone. Joel retreated.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

You heard him exhale a little harder through his nose. When he’d steadied himself against the washing machine, gave his knees another second to prepare for getting up again, you could feel his eyes back on you. Maybe he lingered longer than his legs really needed.

Maybe if he hadn’t stayed crouched like that, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give your surroundings a second look. He wouldn’t have stopped to watch the rate of your breaths pick up or the way your skin startle to bristle with some strange, unknown sensation. He certainly wouldn’t have felt for himself the fever leaking out from the base of your spine right then.

Today just wasn’t the day for keeping secrets, it seemed.

“And what’s this?” You could feel Joel lean back in.

He was looking again. Peering inside. Steadying his weight with the edge of the washing machine gripped in one hand, while the other snaked its way back inside.

You’d already squeezed your eyes shut by the time Joel got a hold of something. You didn’t know what it was.

But it became painfully clear that it wasn’t just one ‘thing’ that had grabbed his attention at all, but rather a series of items that his hands were just now getting to explore. You didn’t have to see his broad and tan, callus-streaked fingers to feel them roaming over your clothes.

Gross.

Gross.

“Gross,” Joel agreed, as if he’d read your mind. Grinning.

If you thought the embarrassment was bad before, you really only knew a fraction of what humiliation could be. Your finger throbbed along with the pulse in your skull.

Your mother’s husband whistled and lifted something.

“Darlin’, this is just…disgusting.”

You winced. You tried not to pry an eye open, to steal a covert look through the frame of your lashes in that dim and crowded spot, but the inducement was too great—Joel was dangling one of your lime green G-strings like it was a fish he’d just caught out on the lake. Boasting it.

Doting, almost.

“Well I’ll be—”

“Will you quit?!” you snapped.

You grabbed the thing out of his hand and threw it aside.

“Can you be serious? For one fucking secon—”

“Oh, I’m bein’ serious, sweetie,” Joel cut in. Cool as ever, “Serious as the business end of a .45, I swear.”

He paused. Then he reached for a white nylon bustier, drenched in a layer of honey that was as hard as a rock.

“Do you always keep your little…skank tanks so filthy?”

That was it. You kicked your heel back—and up—and made a pass to hit your stepdad square in the balls.

Your aim wasn’t the best it’s ever been, seeing that half your body was trapped inside a home appliance at the moment, but what your jab lacked in accuracy, it made up for in force: your foot plunged into the seam of Joel’s jeans full throttle. From the way the back of your heel plowed into his crotch, and the sound that clawed out of his throat the same instant, you reckoned you did okay.

What you weren’t expecting was a smack in return.

An answer in kind—delivered by the palm of Joel’s hand.

A taut, thoughtless THWACK on the swell of your ass.

Your mouth fell open. Your body barely had the chance to recoil when, shortly, another blow landed on your cheek.

Joel spanked you.

Spanked you.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he spat. His palm had slid up with the weight of his last slap, and now his fingers were clenched in a fist in the back of your skirt. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him gripping fabric. It was firm.

He was firm—unrelenting in his hold.

Kneeling behind you, yanking back a handful of tartan skirt like it was nothing, then sidling up behind you.

And just when your attention was drawn to some other firm thing, it was shortly diverted by another sensation.

“JOEL!” you shrieked as he gave you another spanking.

The bare skin of your cheeks was on fire. Joel hit hard. Just when you feared you might legitimately whimper with the sting of that last blow, and while the imprint of his palm was still fresh, you felt it move again. Lower.

“Joel.”

That came out more like a whine than a cry of protest. And how could you, now, when he was soothing the raw bite of his hand with a touch that was kneading the skin?

Working the soft, supple flesh of your ass in his hand like he’d never dream of being anything else but gentle to it.

“Good?” Joel said.

Your head flinched to nod, but your brain thought better.

It did feel good. So good, in fact, that your eyelids were starting to droop just a bit and your back was subtly arching into the touch, but those were only instincts. Stupid, useless, brain-rotted reflexes born of years of paternal neglect and replete indifference, the likes of which could bring a grown man to his knees, begging—

“Please.”

But the entreaty was your own, and the voice that spoke it was hoarse. Your belly sank into the circular aperture of the washing machine, and you could feel your ribs scraping close to metal. Nevertheless, you didn’t mind. That ditzy lizard brain of yours was starved for physical touch, and who were you to deny her at a time like this?

No, not when Joel was squeezing like that.

Groping was the more appropriate word for it, really. Notwithstanding the decades of sexual experience that no doubt preceded the man that was standing before you—behind you—today, Joel was unduly coarse. His broad, weathered hand made as if to cool its former sting, but the motions themselves were jerky. Desperate.

He needed this worse than you, the fucking pervert.

Just when the realization had begun to settle over your mind and your legs were getting to feel a little less like jelly, knowing you weren’t the only weak one here, Joel’s palm slowed down. He pressed the heel of it into your flesh as if to force himself to stop, then he took a breath.

“Now use your words.”

“But—” you sputtered.

“I said,” Joel resumed, and you could sense it was through gritted teeth. His movements came to a halt.

“We use our words when we want somethin’, hear?”

It was the first you’d heard Joel attempt to enforce anything close to discipline with you in your life.

That had to warrant a little defiance, no doubt.

Under your breath, quiet: “So ‘we’ includes ‘you,’ too?”

Beneath that one, seemingly innocuous question was lurking another, and both of you knew it: Remember that time you put a fist through the kitchen wall? Was that a good example of what it means to ‘use words,’ Joel? Whether it was adequate provocation or not, you could sense what was coming next before you’d even finished. When the spank landed on your right cheek so loud that it echoed, you didn’t flinch. You did snag your lip between your teeth to keep a sound from spilling out.

“A dad makes rules. Ain’t his to follow,” Joel growled.

You blinked and bit down harder. Watched the broad, amorphous shape of the man’s reflection shift along the back metallic wall in hues of grey and blue and wished you had the strength to turn around and face him then.

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Said ‘a’ dad, didn’t I?”

“You’re not that either.”

Heat was rising to your cheeks again, this time for different reasons. For a cause you were far better acquainted with to date—annoyance at Joel.

“So that means I’m—”

“Nothing. You’re nothing to me,” you finished, tone wry.

Nothing to anyone, you wanted to add. Not with a shiny gold band latched onto your left hand to tell the world that you’re married to my mother, a pack of smokes tucked away in the jeans she washes every week, or a couple years spent under the same roof as me. Nothing.

Your teeth clamped back down—and almost sank clean through your lower lip this time—when next you felt a touch at the plush, covered mound that was normally shielded between your legs. The spot that was hardly ever tilted up in a position like this, exposed to the air and a man’s hungry gaze, now invaded by the press of a single thing: a warm and soft middle finger at your core.

Joel brushed the tip of it against your entrance, through your panties, and sucked a breath through his teeth when both of you felt a tiny squelch at the pressure.

He pressed harder, and the wetness only spread.

You didn’t have to be in Joel’s position to know what he was seeing, but the feeling from his finger overpowered any better sense to speak—or tell him to stop. He traced his slow, cruel circles against your warmth and moved it up to where he knew he’d find your bud, and when you whimpered, he simply added his index to the mix. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were leaking heat at that point. You could feel it seeping beneath his touch.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel breathed, voice low. Your arousal made a sickening hiss beneath his fingers as he rubbed you even harder, “This feel like nothin’ to you, honey?”

You couldn’t speak. He knew you weren’t capable of it.

“‘Cause this sure don’t feel like nothin’ to me.”

Wet and tacky beneath his touch, your warmth supplied the answer that your mouth couldn’t form. It came out in more of a tap, tap, tap, punctuated by breaths that were toiling in earnest not to turn into moans too soon. But, as hulking and clumsy as his hands had once shown themselves to be, the old man knew where to put them, at least. He made circles on your clit with practiced ease.

“You can try lyin’ to me, but she can’t.”

He was right. ‘She’ was a traitor.

You could deny it all you wanted, but the proof was there.

Indeed, she was crying. Aching. Bleeding with desire. Throbbing beneath the pads of Joel’s fingertips and growing only more desperate as he increased the speed of his touch. When he notched the drenched cotton to the side, you had to grit your teeth to keep in a whimper.

Joel whistled.

“See? Seems like she likes me just fine right here.”

Your jaw stayed wired shut with the weight of your own humiliation. Instead of answering aloud, you hummed. Made a sound low and soft in your throat like, ‘Uh-hmm’ and tilted your hips, as if you didn’t know how else to ask. Joel couldn’t see inside the washing machine, but he must’ve felt the gesture, because he greeted it with a motion of his own: he chuckled, and he puckered his lips.

And when you felt the warmth of his spit hit you between your folds, your shame should’ve tripled. Should’ve made you flinch away from his touch and tell him that was so fucking gross, Joel, stop, but then he smeared it up your slit. He pressed in and mixed it with the rest of your arousal; any reproach died on your tongue in an instant.

A part of him was on you now. Trickling in, sticking to the most sensitive part of you, and settling into your skin like a glaze. With his other hand, he found your skirt again.

“Who’re ya wearin’ this for, sweet pea?” Joel murmured.

“No one.”

Another glob of spit landed between your cheeks. Now, the man used the lubrication to sink two fingers inside you—pushing them in until the rim of your cunt met his knuckles. You whined at the stretch, felt him coax your walls open with a consciousness and a carefulness that felt almost mean, but then he stroked down the base of your spine with the hand that still held onto your skirt. He soothed your startled cry with a curl of his fingers.

And he found the soft, spongy patch of flesh inside that made your eyes roll straight to the back of your skull, quickly. Working his fingers in and out, flattening the base of his free hand over the skin exposed by your flipped-up skirt, and watching your body give way to the force of his fingers, he was uncharacteristically patient. Exacting in the way he worked your body open to him.

“What do you care?” you groaned. You winced when you felt a squelch signal that he’d stretched you even wider.

“‘Cause,” Joel started, slow. Pumping his fingers through your folds and likely wondering when he’d add a third, “You got your hand stuck in a fuckin’ washing machine, a treasure trove of this slut stuff piled in a heap…I mean…”

“They’re just clothes!”

“Just clothes?”

In the wake of those terse, incredulous words, you tried your best to match his tone—call his bluff—but the only sound that came out of your mouth was punctured by a pitiful whine. He tried another finger but couldn’t fit it in. As wet as you were, and as strong as he was, your cunt wasn’t quite ready to accept all three of Joel’s thick, probing digits inside. You’d fit more than a thing or two with a girth even greater than that in the past, but you figured your nerves might have something to do with the way you were tightening around the man’s fingers now.

Why you couldn’t take more of him in, as much as you wanted him there, felt, at present, like something of a shortcoming, and a pathetic one at that. You let out a breath, and a second later, Joel slowed his motions.

You didn’t expect him to stop. Didn’t hold out a hope he might curtail his pace and talk you through a quiet, gentle arrangement for fitting a third finger inside you—that just wasn’t him. You didn’t have to share a paper-thin bedroom wall with your mother and her husband for the last however many years to know that Joel Miller was not a tender lover. It simply wasn’t in his nature to care.

So when you heard the clink of a belt coming undone a moment later, your senses strangely flooded with relief. He wouldn’t care, wouldn’t inquire, wouldn’t coddle with false, romantic ideals of how a woman should be treated.

In that way, Joel shared something in common with your father after all: he set standards as low as they could go.

“Just clothes?” he repeated, snapping your underwear against your ass and jerking the fabric further aside.

Then somehow send those expectations even lower.

There was a hand splayed out across the small of your back. Another fiddling with the front of his pants, wrestling the button and zip of his jeans in little more than one, two, three careless seconds, before he drew in closer to your rear. Your slit was messy, wet, and exposed to his eyes once again. For a second, you almost took comfort in the fact that your hand was still wedged inside a groove of steel and you couldn’t meet his gaze.

That was, until Joel slid his bare length along the seam of your cunt. When the inability to see him made it so you had no other choice but to be surprised when he finally touched you was unnerving, to say the least.

And when the head of his cock blended seamlessly between your folds, was drenched in less than a blink and nearly notched straight into the place you needed him most—well, that had an effect on him, too. Joel moved his flat and sweaty palm up your back, found purchase in the hem of your blouse, and gripped it. Tugged it down a little more and let a low groan billow out of his throat while he rocked his hips back and forth.

Desperate, clumsy, pussydrunk Joel was back before you’d even realized he’d left. Only now he was keen to put the disquiet and hesitations to rest; he needed to fuck you before either one of you wisened up just then.

Your parts and his commingled again. First, with the lethally warm trail of precum leaking out from his tip. Then the intrusion that followed, inevitably, glossed with self-indulgence and desperation—soiling any semblance of platonic affection or parental attention—as he fed you the first inch of him. Barely half the head got fitted inside and your grip on that was like a vice. Joel’s was bruising.

Suddenly firm on your hips, carving crescents in the skin:

“When’s the last time you got fucked, baby?”

You reckoned Joel had a guess—and it wasn’t correct.

“Last…week,” you whimpered, words punctuated with a sigh as his cock tried to make room for more of him.

Joel sucked in a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He’d barely gotten an inch past his tip, facing more resistance than he’d felt in a long, long time, and you were wet, but so tight. He was big but not so massive as that. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying was true.

“That…fratboy fuckstick you went out on a date with?”

“Didn’t think you even saw me leave.”

Joel withdrew, gripped your hips even tighter, then drove his cock to nestle three solid inches inside your cunt. It was extra snug, but he made sure to try to loosen you up with a couple short, shallow thrusts and a hand gradually drifting down between your legs. Of course he saw you.

The circles on your clit and slow-growing movements may as well have been kerosene in your veins. With what limited range of motion you had in that grey, compact space, you let out a sigh and dug the fingers of your free hand into the closest scrap of fabric beside you. Joel’s own touch gradually moved from your hip to drag your hand behind your back, clasping his. He fucked in deeper

“So that’s who this is for?” Thumbing your skirt.

“Y-Yeah,” you lied.

“Wanted to send naughty pics in the schoolgirl getup?”

“Yes,” you lied again. You closed your eyes when Joel sank his cock even deeper and made you stretch inside.

“‘Atta girl,” he praised.

It might’ve been the first he’d validated you in your life.

“Grippin’ this cock extra tight, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Never in a million years would you have imagined it’d come this late—or leave Joel’s mouth in a way like that.

‘Elastic’ wasn’t a word you’d ever used to describe your body, either. Frankly, there was no need for it to be; every one of your partners before had been average-sized, and every other object that went inside you, too, had almost always been a comfortable squeeze between your walls. Outside of maybe your first time and a once-off awkward hookup now and again, you were never forced to feel a stretch to this degree. Joel felt huge moving inside you.

He was nearing your cervix and still nowhere close to the base of his cock. Meanwhile, you were stuffed to the brim, saturated with arousal and his spit, and practically keening at every stab of his hips. You couldn’t reach back because Joel’s fingers were still enmeshed with yours, gripping them hard behind your back. As wore down, fucked out, and desperate as you already were, you were less than only a second away from asking him to ease up.

And then he stopped.

Joel pulled out, let go, and pressed onto the old washing machine, where you heard his touch echo through metal.

He was leaning against it. You were about to turn around. Before you could, though, you felt his form mold into yours—this time not in it, but on it, as he drew closer and once more reached into the space where you were stuck.

“Can you be brave for me, baby?” Joel murmured.

“Wh—” you started, soft, only to feel the words plucked straight from your lungs as Joel leaned his body inside. Carefully, and with concerted effort, it seemed, he was trying to squeeze his way into the O-shaped hole of the washing machine, snaking his arm around your torso.

Pinching your finger again. Breathing just gently enough for his exhales to tickle at your shoulders and your neck.

“Can you be brave?” he repeated, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him so soft-spoken, or felt him so close.

You nodded, not knowing why.

Without another word, your stepdad pinched the digit even tighter and yanked it out from where it was stuck.

It all happened so fast. Joel freeing your finger, squeezing it tight, helping you out of that hot and crowded space while your legs gave way like mush beneath your weight—and your hand throbbing in pain. You’d never thought a single finger could cause a feeling as strong as that, but it stung like hell. You almost raked your nails through the man’s arm when he tried to hold you back, holding you up just as well as you stood.

“Joel!” you screeched, like the whole thing was his fault.

You flexed your hand and wanted to sob. You could feel the streaks of pain start to claw up your wrist, were just about to shove Joel aside and wallow in agony, when at length, he did something strange and unexpected again.

This time, he lifted your index to his mouth and kissed it.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Coming from Joel, it hardly even seemed affectionate. His lips were so warm and firm and decidedly unacquainted with anything approaching a threat of tenderness that his act read almost aggressive. He let your finger rest loosely against his mouth, and he kissed it again, while his eyes burned holes into yours.

‘You’re okay’ came out muffled against your hand.

“You’re okay—hey—baby, you’re good. Don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears had started to form. You blinked and felt one trickle down your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Joel brushed his thumb against that lone trail of moisture. He didn’t cup your face, hold you close, or stroke your cheek in the seconds that followed, though he did keep kissing you.

Or, rather, it—your finger.

Joel didn’t have to care for you at all. He just feared he might’ve pulled on your hand too hard in getting you out.

‘You’re okay’ was being mumbled away like a fractured refrain, touch descending gently to your hip, and his eyes grew softer by the second, surely he had to be thinking it.

Sinking inside you, again. He was standing; your hips were tilted to his, and your ass was pressing flat against the front of the washing machine. All it took was an inch or two off the ground and your limbs hanging limply around his hips for Joel to fuck back into you. He sucked on your finger so hard you feared the skin might actually bruise—a hand hickey, of all fucking things—and when his grip tightened on your side, you knew he felt it too.

His teeth succeeded his lips in an instant, and he was biting, gnawing pathetically as a groan shuddered through his chest. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said the sound was veering perilously close to a whimper.

Fully sheathed inside you, Joel Miller didn’t seem to care. His lids fell like lead across the upper half of his brown, glossy eyes, and the expression behind them was blank.

Safe.

“‘S’alright, baby,” he grunted. Maybe he’d just seen you wince, as he cradled your hand and withdrew another inch, “Keep squeezin’ me, it feels real good. Right here.”

Out of instinct, your gaze drifted down to the spot where his body joined with yours. The sight was hardly a shock, but the feelings it evoked were not—he had you split along two-thirds of his dick, a pretty shelf of belly protruding beneath and gleaming with the arousal he’d drawn out from your body. Tufts of silver and grey littered his skin in every direction, aged muscles tensed with the weight of each thrust, and the warm weathered hand that hadn’t dared touch you once before today was now cupping your chin. Tilting your head closer to him.

“Right here, baby. Look at daddy.”

Wild, unbridled heat flooded your brain in a second. The thing seared the insides of your skull with all the force of a fire and stole the air from your lungs just the same—still, you couldn’t refrain from making a face in disgust.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You shouldn’t have liked it.

His hand ascended your throat in a blink.

“Ain’t that what you want, sweet pea?”

“I—”

Just as you started to answer, though, his cock took a dizzying plunge, hitting exactly the right spot inside you. Like clockwork, your mouth fell open, a whine tumbled out, and Joel took that as his chance to grip your neck even tighter and push your hips against the washing machine, where his height afforded him an easy hold.

“What you want—”

He squeezed harder.

“—what you need—”

You gasped, starved for air. It wasn’t every day a man took your breath away. Not like Joel could, anyway.

“—is me, ain’t it?”

The gaze fixed on your face was alight with desire.

“Bet you miss him somethin’ awful, huh? Been needin’ a man to fill that spot ever since he left, haven’t ya, baby?”

‘He’ required no further clarification. The words stung. You communicated as much by wriggling your hips back and pressing your hand against Joel’s chest, just quit it.

Keep fucking me, but shut the fuck up about my father.

“I don’t miss shit,” you sniffed. Felt the head of Joel’s cock carve a shape somewhere deep inside your body and couldn’t pretend it wasn’t filling a metaphorical void someplace else. You hadn’t got this much attention from a man as many years your senior since…well, ever, really.

You preened beneath his touch. Wanting to feel. Wanting to please. Wanting, more than anything, to be needed.

Joel sated each craving with a simple hand smoothed over your face. His palm moved from your throat to your chin to the hinge of your jaw before coming to rest at the nape of your neck. This time squeezing lightly, bringing your face in close while he fucked you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and your stomach tightened inside you.

“That’s alright,” he said, words hardly above a whisper, “No need to miss that man at all, ‘cause I’m right here.”

For once the assurance came as somewhat of a comfort. You suspected it had something to do with the fact he was balls deep inside you and pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release with each painstaking stab of his cock. You fisted his flannel, holding him there. Spreading your legs, accepting his thrusts, taking each movement with ragged, shallow breaths and moans that blended with his own, you felt your body grow warmer.

Almost febrile beneath him as he tilted your head again.

“Who’s your daddy now?”

You winced, shaking your head. You hated that word.

“Who’s your daddy?”

Joel lowered his hand and began to thumb at your clit. Hot pleasure coursed through you, made you whine at the contact and dig your heels even deeper in his back.

“Who’s your daddy, baby? It ain’t that hard to say.”

But it was. Joel stroking your clit, stuffing you full, ghosting his lips against yours without ever furnishing a kiss, just goading you on with: ‘I know you wanna say it.’ Tough grey stubble teased your mouth with each word.

“I know she needs to cum, sweet girl. Know that poor little pussy’s taken a beating—and she’s done so good for me—but she needs to let it out now. All over me.”

His gaze held yours. You couldn’t turn away.

An unmistakable tenderness pervaded that look, and it didn’t seem keen to depart. No matter how tightly you pursed your lips, made fists in his shirt, or choked his cock between your walls in fluttering, desperate pleas, the man remained calm. Attentive. The eyes didn’t stray.

“It’s okay to say it.”

“C-Can’t—”

“Sure can. Be the easiest thing you ever do—D-A-D-D—”

“Please. Please.”

You hardly even knew what you were asking for at this point, only beholden to that big, swollen something in your tummy starting to give way beneath the push of Joel’s cock. Tightening up, leaking out, practically drooling down the length of this man who seemed relentless in his current pursuit. Two more circles on your clit and you were keening, whimpering pathetic as ever:

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Say it now. Who’s it for?”

Above you, Joel’s teeth gleamed in a smile—or a snarl, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the pleasure, the concomitant pain of having to contain this desperation while his thrusts sped up. You were bouncing on him, getting fucked against the washing machine in the raw and terrible central Texas heat wearing a sheen of sweat and a set of clothes that no longer fit your body, but that was just fine. You were okay. Joel was here, and he was holding your head, lips hovering less than an inch away.

“Who’s. Your. Daddy?” His words were slow. Coarse. Spilling into your mouth with every short puff of breath.

You couldn’t take it. You felt a band of pressure come to a head in your belly and the brush of Joel’s cock making its rounds in and out of your swollen cunt, pushing hard, and you knew that you’d had enough. He knew it, too.

“Y-You.”

“Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

Your wet, pearly slick rang a deafening pitch. Enough.

“You, daddy! Daddy—please, fuck—I-I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of your old man?”

“Make a m-mess— yes, daddy, yes—” you slurred.

Joel drove his cock, fully coated in you, down to the hilt. He captured your lips in a kiss and didn’t even mind your mouth was whining, hissing, whimpering its filthy pleas for him to fuck a nice, big orgasm out from your body.

“—want yours inside,” you added, without realizing it.

“Sweet girl…” Joel groaned.

You didn’t know what you were asking him for. How badly he wanted it, too. His cock dragged in and out of your precious cunt and was barely more safe from the threat of its grip when you spasmed, at the last. Joel should’ve expected no less, after all the time he’d spent teasing and edging, then begging you gently, in grunts, ‘Cum for daddy, baby. Let me have it, that’s it, good girl.’ Still, somehow, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

When you squeezed your eyes shut and kissed him back—that was all it took. When you clenched on his cock, gave the front of his shirt a tug, locked your ankles about his hips so you could more properly increase that friction by fucking him back, grinding in place, he feared he might fairly make an irreparable, unforgivable mistake.

And when the whites of your eyes appeared again—eyelids fluttering open while your lips were glossed with his spit and a lazy smile—and said what you said next, he sensed that his fate was sealed. The old man was fucked.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Joel couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He shuddered, then flooded your insides with rope after rope after rope of his spend, burying his face in your neck and taking your hips in his hands like a looser grip might lose you to him forever. He fucked his cum deep, deeper, darlin’ don’t move, can’t lose a drop, baby, please, he let out a whimper that made your walls pulse again. You felt him fill you to the brim and keep rutting his hips. Your body and his were shaking by the last of it.

And when he was finished, Joel dropped a kiss along your limp, glistening lips. He slid you back on the metal. By the expression on his face, it was plain to see he was loath to withdraw, but he had to. That tender little hiss and the sounds of your shared fluids trickling out were all the impetus he needed to act quick. As soon as he’d pulled out, Joel was back leaning against the washing machine—tilting your hips back a little, then lowering his sweaty, handsome head to the spot between your legs.

The wrinkles to the sides of his eyes grew more pronounced when he smiled. A happy grin, plastered across his lips, would have struck you as almost smug, were it not for the look of sheer adulation that followed it.

Joel was enthralled, watching his cum leak out of you. He kissed your thighs, flickered his gaze to your own, briefly, then damn near sank his nose inside the place he was watching before your fingers stopped him cold.

It was your body, after all. He had already had his fill.

Hardly knowing what came over you in that moment, you sank two fingers inside your wet, drooling hole and watched the eyes of the man beneath you go wide. He soaked in that sight completely: you pushing his cum back in, drawing it out, using the viscous white liquid as a lubricant of sorts before releasing a pleased little sigh.

Joel closed his mouth reluctantly. It took him more than a second to tear his eyes from that place, but when he did, the motions were quick to grow assured, by turns.

As if remembering something.

In a second, the innocent smile you’d seen before was being infiltrated, slowly, by a look you couldn’t place. Joel’s grin morphed from gentle to contented to plainly enthused and beaming ear-to-ear with a conceited glint. With his finger, he tugged your panties back into place.

“Baby—” he started, only to be cut off lightning-quick.

“What? What is it?”

His smile stretched even wider. By that act alone, you were half-tempted to forget the events of the last hour and set your jaw in a scowl. You looked down, unamused.

“What?”

“It’s just…” The man trailed off, and as he did, his gaze descended with it—straight down to your bare pantyline.

You cast a look there too—“What the fuck is it, Joel?!”

At that, two brown eyes flitted back up to you.

“I thought I asked for neon pink underwear, baby.”

Your breaths slowed. His gaze didn’t waver. Your heart came to a standstill in your chest, and you were amazed you had even half your present willpower then to speak.

“Wait, Joel, wh—”

“Shame you couldn’t get around to filmin’ today. Had me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that milk and honey stuff.”

You nearly choked on your spit. Joel kept grinning.

“You’re—”

The guy. That fucking subscriber. The one who’d paid almost $500 in commissions in the last month alone.

You stared at Joel with eyes as wide as saucers, and were about to press on, when you heard the front door to the house shriek back on its hinges. Two sets of footsteps followed it, and their entry inside was loud.

Immediately, Joel rose to his feet. It seemed that grin wasn’t meant to stay long on his lips, because the next thing you knew, he was dropping a kiss somewhere soft and sweaty on your face and flipping your skirt back into place, holding his index up to his lips and stepping away. Your mouth twisted into a frown but stayed zipped out of sheer necessity. Seeing this, and likely unable to help himself, your gross, depraved, grinning old man leaned back in and planted his hands on either side of your hips on the washing machine. His nose nudged into your own.

“Between us—” he began, slowly.

“Get fucked,” you finished for him.

Joel nodded his assent, smirk faint. He cast a look over his shoulder, and, hearing what sounded like your mother’s footsteps drawing closer, lowered his voice.

Rubbing his thumb under your chin, making you tip your head back to meet his for one final look—then a kiss:

“You keep my secret, I keep yours, alright?”

—

Note: I’ve never done a real writing challenge before, but hopefully this fic will work for #hotdilfsummerchallenge !!! @hellishjoel this is such a fun ass idea & i hope you enjoy❣️

[starkeyisthelastname]

stepbro!rafe jealous of reader and her bf at the christmas party.. then following her upstairs and fucking her while everyone else is out there

I went a little overboard. 🥴 this is very dirty. You’ve been warned

Rafe had no idea what you saw in that bozo, Chad. He was a kook who was perfect in the eyes of Ward and your mother. Attending Chapel Hill, excellent grades, a gentleman, gave back to the community. All things he was not or had given up due to his addiction to coke or constant disappointment from his father. The problem was that Chad didn’t know you like he did. He watched with squinted blue eyes as you giggled at something the douche had said. You two stood by the glittering Christmas tree as Sarah took a picture of the two of you.

The mini Burberry skirt you wore that barely covered your ass, had his cock straining against the khaki pants he wore. The fact that, that asshole got to be by your side all a night during this party had his blood boiling. He downed the amber liquid in his glass as he watched you tell Sarah that you had forgotten something upstairs. With the party busy, he easily followed you up the immaculate staircase towards your room.

Humming a Christmas song, you skipped over to the decorated pink Christmas tree in the corner of your room. Bending down, you picked up the gift you had forgotten only to hear the door shut and lock behind you. You turned around to see Rafe, eyes almost black as his jaw tensed while he looked at you. “You are quite the good little actress aren’t you.” He cracked out, voice low. “Your perfect little boyfriend has no idea that the same lips that kissed him tonight were wrapped around my cock this morning does he?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the memory of sucking your step-brother’s cock in the shower that morning. It was more than wrong. Not only because you had a boyfriend but hello because he was your step-brother. Your step-brother who had a dick that was made for you. You began to stutter out something when his tall frame stalked towards you, hand gripping your throat. “You are gonna lay here and take my dick while your dumbass boyfriend looks for you downstairs.”

He shoved you onto your perfectly made bed, ring adored hand ripping the $340.00 designer tights. The red jeweled thong you wore was torn off, while his hand that was on your neck came down to release his monster from the confinement of his Calvin Klein’s. He pulled you closer, one leg resting on his broad shoulder while the other was bent back towards your chest. “Gimme your phone.” He demanded.

You didn’t even have time to ask why when he grabbed it from where it sat on one of your furry pillows. He unlocked it, the familiar ding of taking a video making your head perk up. “Rafe- what are you do-..” You were cut off by him slamming in all nine inches into your slick cunt, making you let out a gasp instead. Your phone getting a closeup view of your step-brother’s cock sliding in and out of your leaking pussy.

“Shit- look at that my man Chad. Look at the mess your girlfriend is making on my dick.” Rafe chuckled as the camera captured the sounds of your squelching pussy. His thrusts sped up at a pace you knew only Rafe could make happen. Whimpers and whines being the only sounds you could make out, as he bruised your cervix. You knew exactly what he was doing. Taking a video to send to the same boyfriend you were just taking pictures with.

“Tell him that you are taking your step-brother’s dick like a good slut.” The older boy spit out, his free hand gripping your hair to make you look directly at the camera. You couldn’t find words, looking completely cock drunk, despite your makeup still being flawless. Your breath began to shallow as you could already feel your orgasm coming strong.

“Tell him or I’ll fucking spot right now.”

You shuttered, your hands gripping the fluffy duvet while you looked at the camera. “No- please don’t daddy.” You cry out, Rafe’s favorite nickname making him want to blow right there. “I’m taking my step-brother’s dick like a good slut.” Your climax hitting hard as you squirted all over Rafe’s NorthFace fleece.

Your thighs shook as you came down from your high, collapsing onto the bed and listening to the sounds above you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe grunted, pulling out quickly as he aimed his seed on your tongue, your pretty face accidentally getting covered in it as more unexpectedly shoots out.

The video was sent to Chad with the caption underneath reading.

Merry Christmas.

[ikissjude]

pass or fail .. ☆ pjs

in which bf!jay hilariously fails a “loyalty test” | tiktok series

jay x reader, fluff, crack-ish, warnings: kinda cringe at the end, a kiss, not much dialogue

you loved lazy days. you especially loved lazy days with your beautiful boyfriend, jay. it wasn’t often that you got them, mostly considering that jay was a busy man. if he could help it, jay would take you out every weekend, but you knew he needed the rest and didn’t mind going out every other week.

that’s how you usually spent your weekends: laid up together, limbs tangled up under your covers, with the sun peeking through the curtains. you didn’t mind it at all, soaking up the sunlight and sitting in a comfortable silence with your boyfriend. during this time, it was easy to slip into the rabbit hole that was tiktok. the clock app never loosened the grip it had on you, oftentimes scrolling through videos mindlessly.

dance videos flooded your for you page. you tend to save a lot of them to maybe try and learn later. you stopped scrolling when one specific video caught your eye.

the way the curly-haired singer glided across your screen mesmerized you. the dance was truly addictive, leaving you to save the video in your collection. you honestly wished you could move the way tyla did.

looking through the sound, it seemed like the dance was blowing up. tons of dancers swayed their hips to the sound effortlessly. continuing to scroll, you stopped on a video of a girl ‘testing’ her boyfriend with the sound.

you had seen this prank before with another tyla video. it was kind of funny to see the guys try to look discreetly. with jay right beside you, you figured, “why not?”

by no means were you an insecure person. in fact, you actually loved tyla and admired her skills as a singer and dancer. jay was also not the biggest fan of tiktok, often spending his lazy days scrolling through twitter or reading a book on his phone. there’s no way he could’ve seen the dance going around, right?

clicking the sound, you turned away a bit to make sure the camera had a good view of your boyfriend. after turning up the volume level on your phone a bit, you pressed record. the song played for a few seconds, and for a moment, you really thought jay wouldn’t look back towards the camera. he almost passed your little ‘test’, except… was that his eye?

“park jongseong!” you yelped. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. your jaw dropped when you looked back at your man, only to see him smirking and continuing to read his book.

“i honestly had a feeling you were going to do this sooner or later.” he said.

“you’re not even super active on tiktok? how do you know the trend?”

“riki showed us the video, you know how obsessed he is with tyla.” you should’ve known, as riki loved tyla as much as you did. still, you might need to rethink just how chronically online your boyfriend must actually be.

“you’re not mad i looked, are you?” jay turned his body towards you. by the way your back was still turned to him and your bottom lip jutted out; he wanted to make sure you weren’t genuinely upset.

“no, seong, i’m not mad,” you turned around to look your boyfriend in the eye. “it’s not like tyla is super famous, super talented, pretty, and has an amazing body.” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

“yeah, well, while that might be true, just know you’re better,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “and you want to know why that is?”

“why is that, park jongseong?”

jay gazed deeply into your eyes before capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“because you’re mine.”

© ikissjude 2024

[hedwig221b]

hey, love your fic recs, would love to see youtuber au if you have any 🥰

Thank you! Now, here's what I found:

Of Green Beans and YouTube by nerdfightingwhovian

Stiles has a YouTube show that is essentially Hannah Hart's "My Drunk Kitchen" where he cooks food drunk but actually pretty well. Derek is a serious chef on YouTube. He has cookbooks that you can buy in actual stores and stuff. He's the real deal.

Stiles' video-block is fixed when he stumbles across Derek guest-starring on a Food Network show. In a rush of inspiration he starts a new series where he cooks Derek's recipes drunk. Derek finds out about the show and instead of being angry, he's intrigued by the guy cooking and throwing things around his kitchen while drinking too much alcohol.

Who's Sourwolf?? by Star_crossed02

Based on Kris' prompt:

YouTuber Stiles doing a livestream when mysterious boyfriend comes in to kiss Stiles and everyone freaking out.

I twisted it a bit, but hopefully you'll like it.

Stop @’ing Me (It’s Giving me Anxiety) by isthatbloodonhisshirt

Derek… had no idea what to say. Or how to react. Or what to even feel.

What the hell was going on?

He immediately went to YouTube to check his video, and the first thing he noticed was that his subscriber count had indeed changed, just as he’d suspected.

Except not in the direction he’d anticipated.

When he’d gone to bed, he’d still been a few thousand subscribers away from one million. Something like seventeen or eighteen thousand away.

He was now staring at his subscriber count sitting at over one million by a fair margin.

“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, and went to look at his newest video about AllAboutMischief. It was sitting at three-hundred thousand views in the first hour, and had more comments than he’d ever gotten on any of his videos since he began uploading.

“What the fuck?” he whispered again, a little more desperately.

I'll Be Your Robin by mikkimouse

"You're sitting in my background!" Stiles waved behind him. "Can't you just scoot to the left by, like, two feet? Or go to the library until I'm done?"

Derek scowled, and really, that angry look shouldn't turn Stiles on as much as it pisses him off. "I don't have room to scoot two feet to the left. And the last time I left the room while you were recording, I ended up getting stuck outside until midnight."

"I had to do multiple takes!"

Derek's scowl didn't lift. "You yelled at me when I came in here to go to bed."

Good for you by lilysaid

Completely by chance, I saw a "human boyfriend for werewolf roleplay" ASMR video on YouTube and thought 1. Stiles would totally do something as reckless as making an ASMR channel for werewolves 2. He would be really good at it and 3. It would definitely blow up in his face.

The Curly Fries Show with Stiles Stilinski by greenleaf

“Curly fries are only for the brave, so is love.” -- Five times Stiles interviewed celebrities for his popular YouTube show, ‘The Curly Fries Show with Stiles Stilinski’, and one time he was the one interviewed.

Or

Five times Stiles hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate Derek Hale and one time he hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate, boyfriend Derek Hale.

Ink Me by AsagiStilinski

Derek is never going to find his soulmate, because there's no way in hell there exists a man named Mieczyslaw in Beacon Hills

Then Erica hires Stiles

Daddy Do's by apocryphal

“Hi Mr. Stilinski!” Lydia said pertly. “My name’s Lydia, and this is my daddy. His name is Derek Andrew Hale and he watches all of your videos on YouTube a lot, but he still can’t braid.”

[Stiles is a celebrity YouTube hairstylist. Derek may or may not have a crush. Lydia just wants a French braid for school picture day.]

My Stupid Boyfriend Tag by ALoza

Stiles is a Youtuber, and this is Derek's first time on camera.

Thirsty and trapped by TalesoftheEnchantedForest

Stiles has a YouTube channel and decides to film a video where he reacts to thirst traps.

Then he promptly falls in love with one of the men, but it's not like they would ever meet in real life, right?

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 3]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

Hongjoong, along with some other Ateez members, stood with him in the now quiet area of the abandoned building. He stepped to the side, clicking his tongue when he saw the blood splatter had gotten onto his new Oxford loafers.

"We're taking this guy with us, right?" San held up the leader, who was on the brink of death but still alive compared to his fellow gang members that have fallen.

"Yeah, keep him in the dungeon. We need him alive for interrogation." Seonghwa said, his hands going into the pockets of his coat.

"Should I get a clean up crew?" Jongho asked, his foot kicking one of the dead man's leg away so he could walk.

"Don't bother. Just torch the place." Hongjoong said, a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Mingi raised his eyebrows, looking at Seonghwa, who sighed and nodded his head.

"Alright. Let's torch it." Mingi rubbed his hands excitedly.

"Let's go then." The rest walked out. San dragged the man's body with him, throwing him into the trunk of their car.

"Please..." The male coughed blood.

"We're not letting you go that easy, you're going to wish death came faster. Better rest up, you have a lot to do." San smiled and patted the man's cheek before shutting the trunk. He climbed into the car that already had Hongjoong in the passenger seat. Seonghwa rode along in Jongho's car.

BOOM!

Looking out the window, the 4 watched as the 2-storey building became engulfed in flames. Mingi emerged with a satisfied smile, climbing onto his bike.

"He always get weirdly excited about blowing things up." Hongjoong shook his head with a chuckle.

"That's Mingi for you." San laughed, beginning to drive away from the scene. Mingi sped past them on his bike, flipping them off.

"If it's a race he wants, it's a race he gets." San growled and began to speed. Jongho seemed to get the memo too because he was revving to catch up and overtake them.

"Ah, you guys are crazy. Seonghwa's gonna get motion sick." Hongjoong said, knowing his best friend well.

"Well, if he pukes, at least it's not my car." San shrugged.

"You guys already race on a regular basis. Do you really have to race right now?" Hongjoong asked. Of course he was joking, he didn't care that the boys wanted to race now. Everyone in Ateez was very competitive, no matter what the subject was.

"Nice!" Hongjoong hi fived San when he pulled up a split second before Jongho. Mingi had already reached way before them, there was no beating him on a motorbike.

"I hate you all!" Seonghwa yelled as he fell out of the passenger seat. Hongjoong laughed and took a video of him on the ground.

"San, unload the cargo." Hongjoong instructed, referring to the guy in the trunk.

"Yes, hyung." San drove the car down to the basement while Hongjoong went to help Seonghwa up and they walked in through the front door.

"Hyung, you're back! I need help." Wooyoung ran over excitedly.

"What is it?" Hongjoong looked at him quizically, sitting down on the couch and Wooyoung took the adjacent armchair.

"Paint swatches for the new casino. I need your artistic eye." Wooyoung poured out all the paint swatches. In the middle, he placed the colour scheme of the intended decor and vibes. Wooyoung and San were the ones that managed the casino businesses that belonged to Ateez.

"It's hard to tell from just the pictures, can we not do this on site? I have time until my next meeting, we can go now." Hongjoong asked the younger.

"O-Oh! Okay, sure. Let me change and I'll meet you in the basement." Wooyoung ran upstairs.

"Get me a coffee in a mug." Hongjoong said to one of the maids.

"Yes, sir." She bowed and ran to the kitchen. Hongjoong slumped back into the couch. He looked at his hand, he could remove the bandages today. Maybe he'll do it when he gets home.

"Sir." A butler handed Hongjoong a to-go mug of coffee. Hongjoong took it and headed down to the basement.

"I'm here, hyung." Wooyoung jogged over, dressed in a black shirt with the first two buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, and dress pants.

One thing Hongjoong appreciated, as someone who values fashion, is that all the Ateez members dressed up well too. They also liked to dress up and look good, no matter where they were going. Yes, they mainly wore suits but they were all different.

"How's the hand?" Wooyoung asked as he drove.

"It's fine, I'll remove the bandages when I come back. We've all been injured before, this is minor considered to the gunshots that we've dealt with." Hongjoong said.

"I know... But you know this is under different circumstances, hyung." Wooyoung said boldly.

"Just because my mother died, it doesn't mean I'm fragile now. I'm not as torn up about it as you all think." He replied.

"Did you tell your construction crew that we are dropping by? There's no point going in if they are going to board up the place." Hongjoong changed the subject.

"Yeah, I sent the contractors a message that we'll be stopping by." Wooyoung hummed.

When Wooyoung pulled up, they saw the contractors there, already waiting for him and Hongjoong. The smell of the construction site irked Hongjoong slightly but he didn't express it, merely taking a sip of his coffee. There were some words exchanged between the contractors and Wooyoung.

"Hyung, this way." Wooyoung nodded towards the entrance of the building. Hongjoong looked around the place as they walked in, the place was coming together nicely.

"Get me one of the arm chairs." Wooyoung ordered.

"Yes, boss." The men went away.

"The furniture arrived earlier than expected so they've just been put aside until the finishing touches are done and the place is painted." Wooyoung informed.

"It's looking nice, Wooyoung. Once the paint is up, it'll come together very well." Hongjoong said in approval.

Even if the members updated each other on their projects, Hongjoong respected them and never interjected unless asked.

"Boss." The contractors placed one of the armchairs that will be used by the big wall. Another one of the workers brought in a standing light since the light fixtures were not working yet.

"Leave us." Wooyoung waved them off. They bowed and walked away. With some painter's tape, Wooyoung taped the paint swatches to the wall above the armchair so he and Hongjoong could look at it properly and visualise it.

"I do like the classic burgundy but painting the walls that shade might seem too tacky or old fashioned." Hongjoong said.

"San and I agree. That's why we're exploring dark shades of blue. It wouldn't feel too stuffy like if we were to go with a red shade. It'll make it feel cooler." Wooyoung nodded.

"Hmm... I like Prussian blue but it is too dark. What if we go lighter?" Hongjoong advised.

"What about this?" Wooyoung held up the book to the wall since he didn't take that many swatches.

"Nice. Come see." Hongjoong swapped placed with Wooyoung, holding up the book for him to step back and see. Wooyoung nodded in approval and took a picture.

"I'll show it to Sannie then we'll get to painting." Wooyoung said.

"Good, I can't wait to see it come together." Hongjoong smiled, patting Wooyoung's shoulder. After they were done, and Wooyoung was able to give some instructions to the contractors, the two of them headed back home. Hongjoong still had work to do and paperwork to go over.

Besides the underground businesses, there were legitimate businesses that Ateez ran as well. That's how they were able to build their reputation in the business world.

"I put the newest contracts on your desk, hyung." Yunho said as he jogged past Hongjoong.

"Thanks, Yunho." Hongjoong nodded and headed to his office.

"Ah, finally." He sunked into his plush chair. Sitting up, Hongjoong began to unwrap the bandage that you had put around his injured hand. Honestly, it was looking a lot better than before.

"Where is..." Looking around the place, he tried to find the tub of salve that you gave him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong threw the small tub into his drawer. The butler entered Hongjoong's office with a bow, informing him that he had some visitors come.

"What visitor?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow with suspicion and caution. He stood up, grabbing his blazer on the way out the door. He wore it and buttoned it as he approached the staircase and went downstairs to the living room area.

"What's going on here?" He asked when he saw Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho, guns drawn to the three men that stood there.

"Hongjoong sshi. Could you tell your men to keep their weapons?" The man smiled eerily.

"They can do as they like. What's your purpose here? We gave you mercy by letting you go despite having stolen from us. Did you not appreciate that?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.

"O-Of course we do. We're merely here to offer our condolences. We heard what happened to your mother." The man stuttered slightly.

"Just let me shut him up permenantly, hyung." Jongho growled. Hongjoong held a hand up.

Hongjoong remembers that day well, they left most of this clan's men dead, only a handful that were barely hanging by a thread. Death was always an easy way out.

"We all know you're not here to offer condolences. Cut to that chase, what do you want?" Hongjoong smirked, crossing his arms.

"I'm here to make amends to Ateez. There's a rumour that the smaller gangs are forming together to take over your territories. They think you're going to be down with your mother's death so they're aiming to strike your territory first." The leader said, his face changing to one of confidence and pride.

"That's all? Do you really not think that we face threats to our territory everyday?" Hongjoong scoffed and the other Ateez members present laughed too.

"For wasting our time, I suggest we take compensation." Seonghwa tilted his head. The 3 men took a step back.

"Good idea, hyung." Yeosang smiled.

"That's true. I don't like people wasting my time AND I don't like people showing up unannounced, especially here." Hongjoong nodded in agreement.

"So that should be two compensations but maybe we only take one? Are we feeling nice today?" Jongho turned to the others.

"Hmm, whatever you guys want." Hongjoong shrugged, turning away to head back up the stairs.

"You'll regret this, Kim Hongjoong!" He heard the leader yell as he ran away with one of his men, leaving the other to be taken by the 3 Ateez members.

Everyone called Ateez the devils, with Hongjoong being the worst amongst all of them. But that's the only way to wield power, to strike fear in people. Everything they do serves as a lesson to others. In the underground world, it's kill or be killed.

"Aww, I missed out on the fun." Mingi said, looking over everything from the second floor banister.

"Don't worry, I have a feeling there will be more where that came from." Hongjoong chuckled and Mingi smirked at that.

"I need a coffee." He went back to his office, going to the coffee maker to make a triple shot espresso. Hongjoong could already feel a major migraine coming on.

Sitting back down, he retrieved the salve you made and haphazardly put them over his healing cuts.

"Hmm..." There was a slight cooling feeling but nothing else.

"Hyung? I'm ba- What's that smell?" Yunho sniffed the slightly herbal smell in the air. Hongjoong cleared his throat and sat up, putting the salve jar away.

"Just something to help with my injury." Hongjoong said awkwardly. Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"You went to see that girl... didn't you? The one that went to your mother's funeral. I know that she's a florist but she knows botany as well. That's the only place you would get herbal medicine." Yunho teased Hongjoong with a knowing smile. Hongjoong glared at the taller male.

"She's a business owner in my territory. Of course I would go visit her, I always visit the businesses from time to time." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth.

"Sure~" Yunho sang. He reached over to pick up the jar that Hongjoong failed to hide under his papers.

"Is this good? Can I try?" He asked.

"Give me that! No, you can't try it." Hongjoong snatched the jar back with a hiss, throwing it back into his drawer. Yunho snickered at the captain's almost flustered behaviour.

"Yunho, I'm busy. What is it you came here for?" Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I'll let you change the subject for now. But yes, I went to discuss the logistics for our upcoming gala." Yunho said.

"Okay. Show me." Hongjoong leaned forward as Yunho placed his laptop on the desk. He pulled up some documents showing Hongjoong his notes, the bill, pictures, everything related to the upcoming gala that they're hosting.

"This is good. Present all this to the rest at our next group meeting, I want them to weigh in on it and see what they think before you go forward with the plans." Hongjoong said.

"Okay. I'll chase the other suppliers for more accurate quotations." Yunho nodded, closing the laptop.

"So, hyung. About the girl..." Yunho raised his eyebrows.

"What? There's nothing about her." Hongjoong replied a little too quickly with a small frown, showing his discomfort about this subject. Yunho bit back his snicker.

"She really knew your mom?" Yunho asked. Hongjoong stiffened at the mention of his mother.

"Yes, no... Well, I don't know." Hongjoong sighed.

"She says she knows my mother but when she speaks about her, it is like we're talking about entirely different people. The person she knew wasn't the mother I knew." He explained.

"That's confusing... And frustrating." Yunho hummed with a nod of his head. Hongjoong let out a grunt of agreement. Yes, his mother was dead but why was he so bothered by this random girl that knew his mother too? Deep down, he knew that she can't change his perception of his mother but it intrigued him.

"Don't think too much about it. The others don't need to know about any of this." Hongjoong shot Yunho a look.

"My lips are sealed." Yunho did the action of zipping his lips.

"If that's all, I need to go for my tailor appointment." Hongjoong checked the time and stood up, turning his computer off. Yunho nodded and walked out with him.

"Don't you usually get our tailor to come to the house to do everything?" Yunho asked.

"Yes but I have a meeting nearby and I wanted to try doing it in the shop this time. Go out for some fresh air too." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Have fun, hyung. Good luck." Yunho wished. Hongjoong waved and headed downstairs to his car. It felt good to drive his own car again, even if it had only been a few days.

"Hey, Seonghwa. I'm going to meet with the new weapons dealer right now to see what he's all about then stop by the tailor for get a new suit done for the gala. Can you take care of the interrogation for me? You can take one of the boys with you." Hongjoong requested.

"You're going to meet a stranger that we've never met before and you didn't take back up?"

"It's fine. I can manage it. Plus, we're meeting in a public place. I highly doubt he'll try anything. But is that a yes on the interrogation?" Hongjoong asked.

"Can I ask Jongho to do it? I have a race tonight, it's a big one."

"Sure, please make sure that he knows what information we're trying to extract." Hongjoong hummed.

"Of course. I'll also make sure that he stops the others from getting too carried away with the torture. The last prisoner died before we got anything good out of him."

"Exactly, that's why I wanted you to do it. You're more objective but I trust Jongho to do it too." He explained.

"I understand. I would say I trust Jongho to get what we need too. Plus, he has the strength to stop the others if they go overboard when trying to get answers. And back to the main issue, why are you going for a meet up without any backup? Should I send some men your way to guard the area?"

"No need, I'm fine. I can handle it myself. Have a good race tonight." Hongjoong wished.

"Thanks, stay safe. If you need backup, alert us."

"I will." Hongjoong promised and hung up. He didn't know what he would do without Seonghwa. They've known each other the longest and started Ateez together, Hongjoong knew he could count on him.

-

"That should be everything. Thanks again for doing this so last minute." The couple said, closing the trunk of their van.

"No worries. Have a good one." You smiled and bowed as they entered and drove off. The moment the van was out of sight, you let out a long sigh of exhaustion. This couple had changed their order last minute and you tried your best to accomodate them.

"At least they compensated." Was what you told yourself before heading back to the shop. It was closing time soon, you usually would have one or two customers at night.

"What a mess..." You sighed. Today was hectic, while rushing orders, you had no time to clean up and just left the mess.

"Good evening, are you open?" You heard a customer come through the door.

"Yes. How can I help you?" You wiped your hands on your apron. You helped the customer get what he needed. Thankfully he was content with choosing one of your premade bouquets.

"Do you prepare all these bouquets yourself?" He asked as you swiped his card for payment.

"Yes, I do." You giggled, handing him back his card.

"They're all very nice. Thanks, have a nice evening." He complimented. You smiled gratefully, walking him to the door and opening it for him to leave.

After that, you began to clear the area, composting the discarded plant parts before you could grab a broom to clean up the small bits and pieces. There was ribbon, tissue paper and wiring scattered everywhere. You kept all the spare materials in the trolley that you usually wheeled around.

"Now I'm hungry." You groaned. There was still two more hours until you had to close so you couldn't eat yet. You tried to pass time by answering to some customers enquires and order confirmations.

"Finally! Closing time." You threw your arms up in the air. You went to turn the 'CLOSED' sign and gathered all the trash to dispose of.

"Ugh..." As you were out back, you heard someone groan.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?" You called out as you took a wary step back. The back alley was very dimly lit and you were not about to take any chances.

"W-Who is there?" Fumbling for your phone, you turned the flashlight on and saw a leg sticking out from where the recycled boxes were.

"Excuse me. Are you oka-" Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you.

"Hongjoong sshi?!"

~

Series masterlist

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello 👋🏻 for pre Eliza #ayw requests

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e0Y8tmRYYiA

I saw this video and it gave me an idea for As You Wish……Eddie and Reader take younger Ryan and Luke to a real life Hot Wheels show. I think this would blow Luke’s mind and Ryan’s brain would be trying to work out how it works. 🙂

Luke would LOVE THIS. It makes me so happy that you saw this and thought of him! I was trying to think of something for Luke’s birthday and this is just absolutely perfect for it. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Words: 5.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

When Eddie first came across the advertisement for the Real-Life Hot Wheels Show in Indianapolis, he immediately knew that he wanted to take his youngest son to it. Both sons, of course, but the youngest is crazier about the small toy cars by far. 

When Eddie saw that this show happened to be two days before Luke’s birthday, it felt like fate. The little boy’s fifth birthday was on Monday, and Saturday just happened to be the day of the big event in the big city about an hour away. Eddie immediately snatched up the phone and dialed the number printed in large, bold orange letters on the bottom of the flyer to purchase four tickets. 

In March, when the tickets had been purchased, Brittany had said there would be no problem with her coming along with her three boys to celebrate the special day. But as the week of Luke’s birthday in May approaches, suddenly, her tone has changed.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” Brittany gripes. “I have to work.”

“You had plenty of time to get the day off!”

“Maybe you should’ve reminded me a little sooner,” she snaps back.

“Wouldn’t think I’d have to fucking remind you when your son’s birthday is.”

Now Eddie has an extra ticket that he isn’t sure what to do with. Wayne wouldn’t be able to sit on the metal bleachers because of his back. Steve wouldn’t want to go while his sons are left behind at home. And it wouldn’t be fair to bring just one of the Harrington sons and not the other. Plus, there is no way that Eddie would be able to handle both of his boys plus a Harrington kid all on his own. 

There’s someone Eddie wants to invite to be the fourth person, but he’s not sure if it would be appropriate or not to bring it up. Thankfully, Ryan adores you almost as much as his father does, and practically asks the question for him. 

“Daddy!” Ryan stage whispers the moment Eddie walks through the door after work the Monday before Luke’s birthday. 

The older man raises an eyebrow at his son as he tosses his keys down on the small table he passes on his way into the living room. He kicks his black chunky boots off and scratches at his scruff with dirt-stained fingertips.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Eddie asks. 

Ryan looks around to make sure Luke is still in the bathroom. 

“I had an idea for Luke’s birthday!”

Before Eddie gets the chance to inquire further, you stroll in from the kitchen and Eddie finds himself smiling like a teenager with a secret crush. The cuffs of your denim shorts that brush the middle of your thighs are so tempting to stare at, but Eddie forces himself to keep his eyes on your face—though that’s no hard feat with how gorgeous he finds you. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you greet, and your boss feels as if he could melt on the spot just by the sound of your voice. “How was work?”

“You know,” he says with a shrug, trying to shake off any trace of fluster, “same old, same old. How were the rugrats?”

“Little Tasmanian devils,” you tease. 

“Afraid that comes with the last name ‘Munson,’” Eddie says with a dramatic sigh. His words make you giggle and a fluttering in his stomach threatens to take Eddie airborne. 

“Daddy!” Ryan rasps again, this time a little more urgently. He marches over to his father who picks him up and holds him against his toned jumpsuit-clad chest.

“What?”

“I think I know who should come with us on Saturday,” Ryan says, a smile that’s a blend of mischievous and prideful lighting up his face.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

Instead of responding verbally, Ryan turns his head until he’s grinning in your direction. The conversation between the two Munsons clearly confuses you as Eddie watches you tilt your head and raise your eyebrows in question.

“What’s Saturday?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but a loud pitter-patter coming down the hallway has the man clamping shut to avoid spoiling the surprise. 

“Daddy!” Luke cheers as he runs into the room.

“There’s the troublemaker,” Eddie says as Ryan wiggles down from his arms. Luke’s quick to be his older brother’s replacement, diving in towards Eddie, trusting that his father will catch him. He does, of course, and hefts the small boy up. “What’s new, Scooby Doo?”

“Nothin’,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh, wait. I ate an ant off the sidewalk during playground time.”

Eddie stares at his youngest son, blinking a few times before asking, “What color?”

“Black.”

“Okay, you’re fine,” Eddie says, putting the boy down. 

“That’s gross,” Ryan says as his little brother walks up to him.

Eddie shakes his head, in amusement or bemusement you’re not sure, and subtly gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen. It’s hard not to trip over your own feet as you move behind your boss. You’d follow him to Jupiter and back if he asked. 

“So, uh,” Eddie starts softly once the two of you are alone in the kitchen, “Saturday we’re going to Indianapolis for a real-life Hot Wheels show.”

The way your eyes light up with excitement has Eddie’s heart thumping against his ribs.

“Oh, he’s going to love that!” you gush. 

His responding dopey grin momentarily stalls Eddie’s train of thought before he remembers Ryan’s suggestion.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the ad for it. But, uh, turns out Brittany can’t get out of work for it.”

You hope you’re able to keep some of the fury blazing in your eyes hidden from your boss. Sometimes it’s a challenge to hold your tongue about Brittany around Eddie—that’s why your poor roommate gets an earful of it almost every day when you come home. 

“Ryan, he just, um, had a great idea,” Eddie continues. His tongue darts out and licks over his lips. “Would you be interested in coming with the three of us on Saturday? I know it’s last minute, so there’s no worry if you can’t. Or if it’s not your thing, I get that too.”

“Eddie,” you say with a soft chuckle. 

The sound vibrates through his body, liquefying his heart on the spot. 

“I would love to go with you guys and celebrate Luke’s birthday.”

Technically, you do have plans for a lunch date with your friend Lily that you’ll have to cancel, but there’s no way you can pass up this opportunity to spend extra time with the Munson men—especially Eddie. 

A sigh of release emanates from Eddie’s chest, and he gives you a grin that makes your knees weak.

“Great. It’s a surprise for Luke, so he doesn’t know anything is going on this weekend. I’m not even going to tell him even when we’re in the car on the way to Indianapolis; I’m too excited for the look on his face when he sees the real-life tracks and cars.”

“He’s going to lose his tiny mind,” you say.

“He is,” Eddie agrees with a hearty laugh. 

“Do you want me to come by on Saturday or do you want to pick me up on the way?” you ask.

Originally, Eddie had just figured that you would come to the house, but the thought of having your address is too tempting for him to give up. Not that he’ll ever do anything with the information, but just to get a peek behind the curtain into your life, a glimpse at where you start and end your days. 

“We can pick you up,” Eddie says, trying his best to be casual. “That’ll be another fun little pit stop for Luke.”

“Perfect. Here, let me give you my address.”

“This is where you live!” Luke exclaims as soon as you slip into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. 

“It is!” You turn to look at the boys over your shoulder and give them a smile. 

“Do you live on the tippy top?” Luke asks, pointing out the car window to the highest level of your building. 

“Nope, just the second floor,” you tell him as you buckle your seatbelt. 

“Not as fun,” Ryan laments.

“Will someone please tell me where we’re going?” Luke whines five minutes after Eddie has pulled out of your apartment complex parking lot. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at his youngest son through the rearview mirror.

Luke’s bright blue eyes turn skyward, and he lets out a huff that makes it sound like he’s deflating. 

“It’s a surprise.” Luke’s voice is the most monotone you’ve ever heard it.

“Exactly. And no one is going to spoil the surprise,” Eddie says as he pulls onto the highway. “So quit asking.”

He doesn’t, of course. He asks four more times over the course of the journey. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes a little over an hour, but it passes by in a flash with the constant entertainment of the Munson trio you’re traveling with. Luke’s insatiable curiosity about anything and everything only takes breaks to give out tidbits of information that he already knows. Many times, Ryan tries to get his little brother to shut up so that he can talk to you as well. And Eddie is the King of Wit as he makes you laugh with comebacks to the boys, and jokes that make your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s almost a disappointment when you have to get out of the car with them. At least you know you’ll have the ride home to experience this Munson brand of insanity once more. 

The moment Eddie puts the car into park, you keep your gaze on Luke. He’s straining in his seat to look out the window, anxious for any clue as to where he is. He’s the first one to unhook his seatbelt and hops out of the car, immediately squinting in the bright sunlight.

“It’s hot,” Ryan says as he steps out of the car. 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Eddie agrees. The man reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black hair tie. You can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch him bunch his beautiful curls up and tie them into a bun on the back of his head. Small strands of hair frame his face and you feel all the blood in your body drop to between your legs. 

At least if I pass out I can blame it on the heat instead of how unfairly fucking good my boss looks, you think to yourself. 

“What is this place?” Luke asks. He has one small hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he swivels on the spot, looking for any clues to solve this puzzle.

“Come on,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards the stadium at the other end of the parking lot. He offers his hand to his youngest son who happily takes it, eager to get whatever show this is on the road.

Ryan slips his hand into yours, which makes your insides feel as warm as your outside as the two of you trail behind Eddie and Luke. 

The closer you get to the entrance, the more you notice people wearing shirts with the Hot Wheels logo on them, but you’re hoping Luke either doesn’t notice or just thinks it’s a coincidence. The four-year-old still seems to be buzzing with anticipation when Eddie hands four tickets to the attendant who lets you through the entry way into the stadium. 

A cool, shaded tunnel is all that separates you from the main event and you’re pretty sure your excitement is greater than the kids’. Eddie looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a wink. You know it’s meant as a signal to watch for Luke’s reaction, but it sends goosebumps all over your body and you stumble over nothing as Eddie turns back around.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, his hand securely in yours so that you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m good,” you say, shakiness evident in your voice. 

Quickly, you make sure to turn your attention to Luke. Just as he’s about to step back into the sunlight with his father, you take a deep breath and hold it.

Eddie brings Luke out into the stadium proper, you and Ryan right behind them. It takes Luke a few minutes to absorb what he sees. 

In the middle of the stadium are twin life-size Hot Wheels loops, orange as bright as flames. At the beginning of each track, sit two empty racecars, both designed to look like the pocket-sized toys the youngest Munson brother collects. The one on the left looks like cans of paint were thrown on the car. Splotches of neon green, white, and a little bit of black cover the car from nose to fin. The car on the next track looks painted with more intention than its counterpart. This one has a base coat of canary yellow with dark red and blue flames emblazoned on the hood, roof, and trunk. Both cars have the signature Hot Wheels logo on the sides, in the dramatic red flourish. 

Once Luke’s brain catches up with what he sees in front of him, his eyes grow exponentially wider. Matching grins appear on both your and Eddie’s faces as you watch it all sink in for the little boy. 

“Whoa,” Luke says, eyes darting everywhere. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks, shaking his son’s hand gently.

Luke gazes around for another few seconds before looking back at his dad.

“I love it!”

Luke pulls his hand from his dad’s and jumps up and down on the spot, his little hands curling into fists that he holds against his chest. A high-pitched whine of excitement squeaks out and you can’t help but chuckle. His glee is palpable and seeing him so happy is infectious. 

“It’s Hot Wheels!” Luke turns to his brother and repeats himself. “Ryan, it’s Hot Wheels!”

“I know!” Ryan says, an elated grin on his own face. “Isn’t it so cool?”

“Yes!” Luke squeaks.

“Come on,” Eddie says, his large hand gently patting Luke’s back. “Let’s go find our seats.”

One downfall of it being such a hot day in Indiana is that the aluminum bleachers that you’re allocated to are toasty even through the material of your shorts. 

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask once you’re all settled.

“Me,” both boys say.

“I’ll come with you,” Ryan says. 

You gladly accept his offer and take his hand as the two of you venture off to find water.

On the bleachers, Luke squirms in his seat next to Eddie, so excited he can hardly stand it. The little boy tugs on the sleeve of his dad’s t-shirt and Eddie looks over at him.

“I’m so happy!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart growing three sizes at seeing his son this way. Luke’s generally a happy kid, but this euphoria is a whole different level for him, and Eddie realizes he would’ve driven to Alaska for this if it meant putting that smile on his son’s face.

“I can tell,” Eddie says. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad I found something fun for your birthday.”

“And I’m so happy I’m here with you guys!” Luke continues.

Eddie for the first time realizes neither of his sons questioned why their mother wasn’t coming with them today. No wondering why she didn’t get in the car, why she wasn’t here with the rest of the family. And neither of the boys seem to mind one bit. In fact, Luke just said he’s happy to be here with the three of you. Not his mom, but you here with them. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t agree more. He’s not about to spend his son’s birthday celebration psychoanalyzing what that means, though.

“We’re all so happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Luke’s curls. They’re slightly sweaty but neither of them cares. 

A loudspeaker crackles to life and an announcer with a booming, lively voice asks the crowd if they’re ready to have a good time today. 

“Our drivers today are Buzzy Graham and Oliver Ronald!”

The first man—Buzzy—gives the crowd a wave and jogs over to the splotchy looking car. He straps a neon green helmet on and climbs into the life-sized toy vehicle through the driver’s side window. The second driver, Oliver, also gives a wave and a smile as he makes his way over to the car painted with flames. An indigo helmet gets strapped to his head, and he slips inside of his car as well. 

The moment the show starts, and Luke hears the first revving of an engine, he’s on his feet. His hands are clenched in excitement again as he waits with bated breath for the cars to get into gear. The kid has put his cars through tracks just like these a hundred times before, now he’s ready to see the real thing in action. 

The buzz of the crowd dims as the hundreds of people in attendance wait for the show to begin. Finally, the purr of an engine sounds above all other noise and Luke clasps his hands together with an excited gasp. Ryan is also full of anticipation, sitting at the very edge of his seat and watching with eyes almost as wide as his little brother’s. 

Over the speaker, a countdown begins.

“3…2…1!”

Both cars go full throttle across the checkered starting line. Luke intakes a sharp breath and Eddie can’t help but notice it doesn’t come out right away as he watches the two cars speed along down the orange track. 

The cars approach the first loop and every muscle in Luke’s tiny body is frozen as he watches in anticipation. Ryan also has his eyes glued to the cars, but his is more of a fascination of how the cars don’t fall while they’re upside down in the loop. 

“How did they…” you just barely hear Ryan say to himself over the roar of the audience. 

Now that the cars are out of the loop, they’re coming up on the jump over a shallow ravine, to the other side of the continuing neon track, where the finish line is. 

The Splotch and The Flames both start their small incline to prepare them for the jump, and Luke’s hands go up to grab the curls on top of his head. This is possibly the most stress the kid has ever endured in his life. At least it’s the good kind, Eddie can tell. 

“Here we go,” Eddie says just as the cars are about to be airborne.

And suddenly, there’s nothing beneath the spinning black wheels but dust and air as they soar over the pass between the two disconnected parts of the track. Luke swears it all moves in slow motion. 

The rubber tires of the splotchy car touch down on the other side of the ravine first, bumping and jostling the car forward as the flames one lands a split second after it. 

The end of the track is only yards away, so the splotchy car has the upper hand and is the first one to cross over the black and white finish line.

“WOO!” Luke cheers. His hands come free from his mess of curls and he throws his arms up in the air. “Yes!”

“Wow!” Ryan stands up and claps his hands, cheering alongside his little brother. 

“Daddy, did you see that?!” Luke asks, turning his wide-eyed gaze on his father. “That was the coolest thing ever!”

The genuine excitement and happiness wafting off of, not only Luke, but Ryan too, has Eddie grinning ear to ear as he nods in response to the small boy. Eddie would absolutely agree that this is the coolest thing ever. But not for the same reasons his sons do. 

The tracks are cleaned and reset a number of times, letting different cars and different drivers take their turns. But none of the excitement will ever live up to that initial race to Ryan and Luke. Seeing those real-life Hot Wheels in motion for the first time blew their little minds. By the end, you and Eddie are both watching the boys more than the show in front of you. 

Once the last race has been run and the show has come to its end, it’s clear all the excitement and sitting out in the heat have worn the boys out—-Eddie and you too, if you were being honest. The sun is setting now and it gives you a reprieve from the heat as you head back to the car.

“So, kiddo,” Eddie says, gently shaking Luke’s hand where he holds it in his own. “Where should we stop off on the way home to grab a birthday cake?”

“I get cake today, too?” Luke asks, voice rising higher in pitch the further he gets in the question. “Awesome!”

Eddie was planning to get a second cake for Luke’s actual birthday on Monday, but guilt gnaws in his head. You won’t be there on Monday, and Brittany will.  You’ll be the one who remembers his birthday wish, always said aloud despite Ryan’s reminder to keep it a secret. 

Since you can’t be there when Luke blows out the candles on Monday, Eddie ensures that he’ll have a cake today as well. The happier cake, Eddie bitterly thinks.

“Dairy Queen!” Luke announces as everyone piles into the car. 

“Nice choice,” Eddie commends, raising his eyebrows. 

“I love those little crunchy things in the middle of the ice cream layers,” Luke elaborates as he buckles himself into his seatbelt. “They look like little clumps of dirt but taste like little nuggets from Heaven!” 

You and Eddie share an amused smile as he slips the key into the ignition and starts the car. 

“Oooh!” Ryan says, twisting in his seat to look out the back windshield. It’s dark now, but he knows it’s the general direction of where the stadium is. “Can we take our car on the Hot Wheels track?”

Luke gasps in excitement and joins in the begging.

“Please? Just once?”

“Guys, we can’t just drive on to the track,” Eddie says, shaking his head in amusement. Though he will admit to himself, that sounds like it would be so much fuckin’ fun. “Professionals drive those cars. Cars that are specifically made to do that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” you add, turning around in your seat to face the boys as Eddie pulls out of the parking space. “And I don’t know about you, but if I went upside down like that, I would feel too sick to have any delicious Dairy Queen ice cream cake.”

You’re aware your words are most likely untrue, but it gets the boys thinking about the sweet treat again rather than wanting to go perform professional stunts in the dark with no supervision. 

There’s a drug store right in front of the first Dairy Queen you come across on the drive home, so you run in there to grab some birthday candles while Eddie and the boys get a cake. 

You meet them at an outside table where Eddie is carefully removing the vanilla-frosted cake from the box. While he takes care of that, you unload the bag of supplies you bought at the drugstore. Sure, Dairy Queen had paper plates to eat off of, but there’s no way they had ones as cool as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones you found. 

“Ahhh!” Luke’s face lights up when he sees the package of plates and happily takes them from you so he can rip the plastic off. 

Of course, the matching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle napkins were a necessity as well. But with everything that Luke likes, there’s no way you could stick with one theme when you saw the party supply aisle. 

Next, out come the Scooby Doo party hats and matching noise makers. Ryan giggles as you situate his hat atop his dark golden curls and adjust the strap below his chin. Unsurprisingly, Luke went for a noise maker first, which has Eddie giving you a fake glare. With a soft giggle, you give him an innocent shrug in return.

Scooping up another cardboard cone hat, you step closer to Eddie and slide it on him. If you’re being honest with yourself, this is mostly just an excuse to touch him. The backs of your fingers lightly brush against his stubble as you hook the string on his strong jaw. His hair is still tied back, but that gives you the perfect opportunity to fix the strands of hair that frame his face when they get shifted from securing the hat. 

The moment the pads of your fingers make contact with the soft tendrils of hair, a pleasant chill runs down your spine. Doe eyes watch your face as you arrange small sections of his fly away hairs, but you don’t dare meet his eye. There’s no way you’d be able to keep all the emotions you try to keep bottled up inside from broadcasting across your face like a scroll sign in Times Square. 

You clear your throat and take a step back. Trying to will all heat away from your face, you slip on your own Scooby Doo party hat, make sure Luke is wearing his, then tear open the package of candles you bought. The frozen frosting on top of the cake has thawed a bit from being outside in the Indiana evening heat, but it still takes a little effort to stab five green striped candles around the edges of the cake, and one white one in the middle for luck.  

Eddie slips a silver lighter out of his pocket and leans in until there’s a small flame dancing on top of each candle’s wick. 

“Okay,” Eddie says as he slips the zippo back into his pocket. He moves to stand behind Luke, gently resting his hands on his son's shoulders. “One, two, three…”

A chorus of Happy Birthday to You begins and Luke’s gleeful face is illuminated even brighter by the fire casting its light. 

“…happy birthday, dear Luuu-uuuke. Happy birthday to you!”

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” you tell him.

“But don’t say it out loud!” Ryan reminds him, a hint of anger in his voice letting you know this is a regular occurrence. 

Luke’s lips form a pucker as he thinks. The gears churning in his head are practically visible as he casts his gaze upward, then downward. Then, his eyes flit to his father behind him, then over to you. A smile that you could only describe as hopeful slowly grows on Luke’s lips as he leans in towards the cake. The almost-five-year-old takes a deep inhale in through the nose, then blows all his candles out in one shot. 

The smoke curls into the air and disappears as you and Eddie clap your hands now that Luke made his wish. 

The cold cake is the perfect dessert to be eating outside on a warm summer-but-not-technically-summer-yet night. The vanilla and chocolate ice cream along with the crispy, crunchy pieces in the middle are the perfect way to end such a lovely day. 

You’ve never had a day out with the Munson men like this before. Something deep inside of you wonders if all of this was a good thing or bad thing, though. Because before you didn’t know what you were missing. Now, you know how it feels to spend time with them as a person—not an employee. Just as a friend to Eddie—-and okay, maybe still like a babysitter to the kids. But it’s so different than just being in the Munson house until Eddie comes home, get paid, then leave. This was time together. And it was one of the best times you’ve ever had. 

“You’ll always have the memory of today,” you whisper to yourself as you walk away from the guys to throw away empty plates and used napkins. “Even if I never get another day like this again, I’ll always have the memory of this one and how nice it feels to spend time with them. All of them.”

You take a deep breath walking back towards everyone, mentally composing yourself so you don’t give away that you’re getting caught up in your own head. 

“We ready to get back on the road?” Eddie asks, patting his front pocket that holds the keys. 

“Yes—oh. One second. Luke?” You chuckle and take a seat down at the table. When the little boy looks at you, you gesture for him to come over to you. “It’s a good thing I didn’t throw away all the napkins.”

There’s ice cream all over Luke’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had been trying to devour it by osmosis. 

“How did you get chocolate in your eyebrow?” you ask with a chuckle as you gently rub at the area above his eye. After one more once over, everything looks good—nice and clean. “There we go.”

“Thank you!” Luke leans in and pecks your cheek before spinning around and heading towards the car. 

The small display of affection has you giddy as you follow behind him. It’s the little moments where you realize that they love you right back that turn you into a puddle on the floor. But you’d happily stay that way if it meant the boys love you even half as much as you love them. 

Despite the recent sugar rush, it doesn’t take long once you get on the road again for the boys to fall asleep. Soft snores come from one of them, but it’s impossible to tell who since they’ve somehow come to sleep with their heads resting up against one another’s. 

It leaves no room for you and Eddie to talk, but you don’t mind. Companionable silence with Eddie is comfortable, there’s no urge to fill the silence with some small talk or forced conversation. It’s relaxing even, to sit next to Eddie and just be. There’s nothing you have to do, nothing to worry about, it’s just you sitting next to Eddie while the beauty of Indiana at dusk rushes by outside the windows. As much as you don’t want to think about it, you could definitely get used to this. 

When Eddie pulls up to your apartment complex, you almost want to be a child and beg for one more ride around the block. The boys are still sleeping and the only sound is from the crickets chirping outside as Eddie kills the engine.

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you say. “I really had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, those cars were pretty cool, huh?” Eddie asks with a soft chuckle as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. 

“Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes, they were, but I didn’t just mean them. I had a lot of fun hanging out with the three of you.” If your wife bails on you again, just let me know, you think, but almost laugh to yourself when you realize you need to correct it. WHEN your wife bails on you. 

“I had a really great time, too,” Eddie says. “I always have a great time with my boys. But you made it even more fun.”

Heat rushes to your face and you instinctively avert your gaze and duck your head. 

One of the boys lets out a whopper of a snore and it startles both you and Eddie, who let out soft matching chuckles at your own jumpiness.

“Since they’re out like a light,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the two boys snoozing in the backseat, “tell them how much fun I had with you all, yeah?”

“Will do,” Eddie affirms. 

“And give them a kiss from me when you tuck them in.” Part of you is tempted to lean in and press a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek that’s meant for him to then pass in turn to the boys, but all emotions other than desire somehow keep it reigned in. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door handle and curl your fingers around the silver lever. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” you ask Eddie, offering him a small smile. 

“Absolutely. I’d, uh, offer to walk you inside, but I’ve got these two sleeping sloths in the back. I don’t trust them alone—even unconscious.”

Your soft responding giggle has Eddie smiling in his shadowed corner of the car. 

“Bye, Eddie.” The passenger side door opens with a clack and you swing one leg out of it.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment the car door closes behind you, Eddie’s gaze falls to your ass. He watches each sway of your hips and finds his teeth sharply digging into his lower lip. 

“God damn,” Eddie mutters to himself once he sees you’re safely inside your building. 

He sits there for another quiet moment, one hand on the gear shift. After taking a deep lungful of air and releasing it slowly, Eddie turns the car back on and pulls out of the parking spot. 

The car hasn’t even made it out of the complex parking lot when Eddie hears his youngest stirring in the backseat with an overexaggerated yawn. The little boy smacks his lips together a few times before he opens his mouth and speaks in a voice still laced with sleep.

“Can I have some more cake?”

[strniohoeee]

Requisite

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: While streaming Matt gets a little handsy with the reader, and what happens when fans start to notice, and Y/N feels a type of way🗣️ This is for my request asking for gamer Matt touching the readers thigh while streaming

Warnings⚠️: This is SMUT, but nothing crazy just them going to POUNDTOWNNNN

Song for the imagine: Acquainted- The Weeknd

⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

I was sitting on the triplets couch watching a movie with Chris and Nick. Well actually I should say the movie was watching us because Chris and Nick had fallen asleep, and my eyes were slowly closing here and there

I decided to sit up more and check my phone. It was about 5pm and I knew the boys would want something to eat soon, and probably film a vlog and car video. I checked all my socials and got back to my text messages.

I heard Matt cursing from his room, so I figured he was playing one of his games. I looked over to Chris and Nick snuggled together sound asleep, so I decided to head over to his room

I knocked on his door, but I figured he wouldn’t hear me, so I lightly cracked the door waiting for him to tell me to come in. We made eye contact and he smiled and then nodded for me to come in

“Hey” I said as I sat on his bed

“Hey- SHIT NO NO NO” he said smashing buttons on his controller harshly

“What are you playing?” I asked laughing at him

“Fucking Fortnite, but my team sucks” he said

“Nice. Chris and Nick are asleep, so I figured I’d come and bother you, and it’s almost dinner time” I told him

“Ouu we should get McDonald’s so then this way we could film a car video” Matt responded

“I’m down with that” I told him

“The chat wants you to come closer, and hang with us” he said turning back to look at me

“I didn’t know you were streaming” I said to him

“Oh yeah! Had to I was slacking” he said

“I agree I’ve been waiting for more twitch edits of you to pop up” I said joking with him, and he just looked at me and rolled his eyes playfully

I got up and walked towards him, standing next to him watching him play

“The chat says great shot of your chest” he said laughing at me

“You perves” I said stooping down and looking at the camera

“Here sit on my lap” he said scooting back

“Uhhh” I said giving him a side eye

“Not on anything weird just sit” he said sucking his teeth

“I’m going to crush your thighs” I said laughing at him

“Excuse me…im a man” he said holding his chest acting offended

“Fine” I said and sat on his lap, not allowing myself to put my full weight

Matt’s team had lost, so he was waiting for a new game to start, I think he noticed that I wasn’t putting my full weight down, so he started to massage my thigh to let me know I could relax more

I looked over at the chats and started reading some in my head

“IS HE RUBBING HER THIGH”

“Yallll they for sure fuckin”

“The hand on the thigh is CRAZYYY”

I wasn’t sure if Matt saw these comments, but I ignored them. I didn’t want his fans thinking anything crazy was going on between us.

Matt had let me play a couple rounds, and his hands kept rubbing and squeezing my thighs. The chat blowing uppp with all type of crazy comments

Matt had ended the stream, and I had gotten up

“Alright I’m hungry” he said getting up and stretching

“Yeah same” I said. Completely ignoring him just feeling up on my thighs like that’s some normal shit

“Lets go see if Chris and Nick are up” he said walking out his room and I followed

They were up and also talking about being hungry. So we all headed out for some McDonald’s, and spent the rest of the night filming YouTube videos and tik toks

What was bothering me was the fact that Matt had acted like him touching me was nothing, and like it’s an everyday thing that he does. Did he really not see the comments, or was that feeding into his brain

About a day later there were just non stop edits popping up everywhere of Matt touching my thigh. I was starting to panic because I didn’t want people assuming anything. If I’m being honest I really liked Matt, so him rubbing on my thighs didn’t help my case right now

I had been a bit distant with Matt and the triplets for a good 4 days. I honestly couldn’t be around Matt because I was conflicted on what to do. Did he like me? Was it just an action to make me less nervous?? I just didn’t know what it was.

I had received a text from our group chat

Nick

Y/N where have you been??

Chris

yeah???? You never go more than two days without seeing us

Matt

for real!!! Come hang out with us PLEASEEEE

Me

hiii I’m so sorry I’ve been dealing with some personal issues, and I didn’t want it to affect you guys<3, but I’ll be over shortly 😘

I had driven over to the triplets house, and let myself in

“Hey guys” I said coming up from the stairs

“YAYYYY you’re here” Chris said clapping his hands like a child

“Sorry yall! I was just going through it” I said laughing

“Is it about those edits?” Nick asked

“Well….yes and no” I told them

“Listen, don't listen to anyone saying anything bad, or assuming stuff about yall. I think some of those edits are taken out of context” Nick told me

Honestly that’s not why I was over the edits, but I just agreed anyways

“Yeah….i figured I’d chat with Matt” I said to them

“He’s in his room” Chris said. I thanked him and walked over to his room letting myself in

“Hey Y/N” he said giving me a hug

“Hii” I said

“I want to chat with you” I said to him sitting on his bed

“Is this about the edits?” He asked

“Ummm no it’s actually about the actions you did” I told him flat out

“Oh?” He said a little confused

“Listen I’ve been avoiding you because I really like you, and those touches on my thighs were making me spiral. I don’t want to think that those were just friendly touches, and not something more” I told him

“I mean I like you too, and you know I love physical touch, so those touches were both flirtatious and friendly” he said looking at me

“Oh….” Was all I could fucking manage out of my mouth

“I mean if I made you uncomfortable I’m sorry” he said looking concerned

“Oh no no….umm those touches actually made me feel some type of way” I said looking at him

“Yeah?” He said lowly

Next thing I know I reach over and pull Matt in by his shirt to kiss him. This kiss felt like 1,000 fireworks going off in my stomach. I felt like Matt was made for me

We pulled away, and he looked me up and down

“I’ve waited so long to do that” I told him, and he leaned in putting his hand on my thigh as his lips ghosted over mine

“I’ve waited so long for this too” he said finally kissing me again and massaging my thigh

“Fuck Matt you gotta stop rubbing my thigh, or I’m going to do something I shoudnt” I told him sighing

“Who says you shouldn’t do it” he said with a smug expression

“Matt you really want me to act out” I said smiling at him

“Baby you can do whatever you like” he said smirking at me

I smashed my lips into his allowing him to fall back as I straddled him

“Fuck Matt I need you right now” I told him pulling away from the kiss and removing my shirt

“Chris and Nick though” he said also removing his shirt

“Well you wouldn’t be taking off your shirt, and I’ll be quiet I promise baby” I said biting my lip

“Fuck it. I’ll be quiet too” he said leaning up to kiss me

We had been making out, and I was grinding down on Matt’s bulge. He pulled away to moan lightly

“Fuck I don’t know if I can hold out any longer” he said biting his lip and helping me grind down onto him

When he brought my hips back down I let out a bit of a loud moan

“SHHH” he said covering my mouth

“I’m sorry” I said muffled into his hand

Matt helped me out of my pants and my underwear and he slid his down to about knee length

“Fuck Matt” I said as I was grinding on his dick letting my arousal spread all over him

“Oh” he said thronging his head back and rubbing his hands through his hair

“Matt you’re so fucking sexy just kissing you makes me so wet” I said kissing his neck and chest

“Fuck don’t say shit like that or I’ll cum” he said looking into my eyes

“Are you ready baby” I asked him and he nodded, helping me align his dick at my entrance

I slowly slid down onto him my mouth falling slack at the stretch

“Shit oh my god” I said in a low moan as I bottomed out

“Fuck” Matt said as I started to rock my hips

I allowed myself to fall forward having our chests touching as I grinded on his dick. Matt had his hands on my ass helping me grinding on him. The way my pussy was contracting around him singing a shiver down his spine.

I sat up again and allowed myself to bounce on his dick but being careful of how loud I was becoming

“Fuckkkk Matt” I moaned throwing my head back

“Keep bouncing on my cock like that, and I’m going to cum so hard” he said rubbing his hands up my body and squeezing my breasts

I was bouncing on his dick harder and faster. My mouth falling slack as my breathing became heavier and I started to sweat

“Fuck y/n you look so good all hot and fucked out” he said also breathing heavily

“Keep talking I’m going to cum” I said falling forward again and grinding down onto his cock to allow stimulation to my clit

“I’m so close baby” he said kissing my neck and gripping my hips hard

“You’re doing so good for me” he said looking up at me

“I’m gonna cum fuck fuck fuck fuck” I said as I started to grind harder chasing my orgasm

I soon shuddered and came all over Matt’s cock shaking and moaning into his neck to keep quiet. I was seeing flashes of white and completely ecstasy through my body

“I’m gonna cum” Matt said now pounding up into me

“Cum baby cum for me” I said kissing his neck

He shuddered and gripped me harder

“OHHH myyy GODDD” (hehe) he whimpered out a bit loudly as he came into me. Trembling and convulsing

We both came down from our high and I got off of Matt falling next to him.

“That was so fucking hot” he said turning to look at me

“Fuck Matt I love you so much” I said as I went in to kiss him

“I love you too” he said after pulling away, and he began to sit up

Soon after I sat up as well looking for my article of clothes

“Wanna shower with me?” He asked looking back at me

“Yeah that sounds nice” I said getting off his bed and walking to his bathroom with him

We had showered together laughing and trying to be quiet so Chris and Nick wouldn’t hear us. After that I changed back into my clothes and him and I layed in his bed watching tv waiting to stream later on together.

The End

I hope yall enjoyed this one 🫢💋💋 and for the person that requested this I also hope you enjoyed it🫶🏽🫶🏽 love yall and thank yall so much for the support

-J💅🏽

[kiwisluv]

jude bellingham blurb - barca vs psg

reader x bf!jude

set during the barca vs psg leg 2 champions league match

1.4k words - i guess not really a blurb at this point😭 also not proofread soz xx

You and your best friend were sat in the tv lounge at your uni, watching the Barcelona vs PSG game since you had downtime between classes. A little bit into the first half, a group of three boys had come by to ask if they could watch the game with you two, and you obliged, figuring it wouldn't do any harm.

By the time the second half started, you and your friend were regretting your mistake. The three boys were yapping about the game the entire time, which wouldn't have been terrible if it wasn't so obvious that they were trying to flex their "superior" knowledge about footy. The two of you just kept to yourself, making a quiet comment to each other about the game here and there, but you couldn't help but make eye contact every time one of the men confidently remarked about the game, only to be making an incorrect statement. It was almost laughable the amount of times they had messed up; when their fourth friend came at halftime, one of the men loudly went, "Bro, PSG just got a red card then scored on the penalty kick." You couldn't even wrap your head around how the boy could've mistaken what he was watching THAT badly. At one point, you could barely hold back your giggles as your best friend tweeted, "Barcelona fans are the type of people to stare straight into the sun during the solar eclipse."

You had also been texting Jude throughout the game, knowing he couldn't talk right now because the team was prepping for tomorrow, but still sending him your commentary like you always did for him to read later. This included texts like "RED CARDDDDD THIS IS PEAK COMEDY FROM BARCA" and "XAVI GETTING SENT OFF I'M DYINGGGGG!!!!!!" It's safe to say that you were happy to see the downfall of Jude's rival club. At one point early in the second half, you saw the photos of Jude from his press conference and showed your friend excitedly, raving about how fit he was, and laughing at one of the videos of him trying to understand a Spanish interviewer. When they boys caught notice of this, they side eyed each other, assuming that you were just some girls who didn't even care about football and just watched for the fit guys. This got them chatting even louder, reallyyy trying to show off their ball knowledge now. Because of your mention of Jude, they started talking about tomorrow's games and proceeded to rant about how City was gonna blow out Madrid. This struck a nerve in you but you decided to bite your tongue and just focus on the game and your friend instead of biting at their bait.

After Mbappe's second goal, you were absolutely raving, texting Jude something along the lines of "KYKYYYYYYYY." You cheered with your friend as the boys sulked further into their chairs, obviously unhappy with the scoreline. "I love my man, but Kyks..." you joked to your friend as you watched PSG celebrating all over the screen. "Can't wait for you to come to Madrid baby," you joking said to the TV screen, your friend giggling at your ridiculousness. This fit was interrupted, though, as your phone started buzzing and Jude's contact picture (a quite unflattering photo of him sleeping) filled your phone. Your heart instinctually swelled at the thought of speaking to your boyfriend, and you quickly answered the call. "Please tell me you just saw that goal," you said as soon as Jude's face filled the screen. It looked as if he was done with training and sitting in the team's makeshift common area. You could hear some of his teammates messing around in the background and even saw Cama passing by in the background.

"Well hello to you too," Jude said jokingly. You rolled your eyes at his sassiness, choosing to ignore this comment and ask if he was watching the game.

Unbeknownst to you, the four boys sat in the room with you were absolutely flabbergasted. They were looking at each other with the widest eyes, unable to believe what they were hearing. Your friend saw this, biting back her smirk at their reaction. "Hiya Jude," she greeted, peaking her head into the frame to say hi to your boyfriend, who she was also quite close with.

"Hi!" he smiled back with a wave to the camera. "And yes, I'm watching the game. We just got done with training."

"We watched some of your press conference earlier. It was alright," you joked to the man. This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Kidding, of course. You looked sexy," you said with an overdramatic wink. You couldn't hold back your laughter at the silly remark. "But for real, your answers were perfect. You actually sounded very competent and not nearly as cocky as you actually are."

"Wow. Thanks for that," he said in fake annoyance.

"I've already got screenshots of it in my camera roll."

"You're a creep," he deadpanned. "I can't believe my girlfriend is a groupie."

This had you gasping, holding your hand to your heart as you feigned offence. "Alright, goodbye now Jude." You pretended to go to hang up the phone but were cut off by Jude going "No no no no!"

After that little fit, he asked you about how your day was, how your assignments were going, etc. He even asked your friend about how her date was last night, surprising you that he even remembered about that. She took the phone from you to debrief your boyfriend about her night, telling him the story of the crazy guy she'd had dinner with. As the two chatted away, you watched the last few minutes of the game, feeling warm inside at how happy you were with Jude and how happy you were that he got along with your friends so well.

However, your thoughts were interrupted by the four boys, who had stood up and walked over to you. You looked at them puzzled, having a hunch about what they wanted. "Hey, um, we were just wondering..." one of the boys started, obviously nervous about whatever he was going to say. At this point, you knew what they wanted, and you couldn't believe the nerve they had after slagging off Madrid mere minutes ago.

"If you could say hi to Jude?" you finished the question for him. They sheepishly nodded, one of the others adding, "We're big fans."

You held back your eye roll at that last statement, taking the phone from your friend and turning it so that the boys could see Jude and vice versa. "Jude, these are the guys that were just chatting all about how City's gonna win tomorrow." You couldn't see your boyfriend's face, but you imagined him raising his eyebrows at this statement. You and your friend laughed at how caught off guard the boys were by your statement. They looked panicked, all four of them standing with their mouths hung open but not saying anything.

"Oof," Jude shook his head on the screen. "Don't say that around y/n. She'll have your necks for talking down on Madrid."

At this, the frontmost of the boys scratched his neck and laughed nervously. "Um, we didn't mean it like that...we were just, um, talking about the odds and stuff..." he tried to scrap up a pathetic excuse.

"What team do you lads support?" Jude asked.

The four looked at each other as if they were unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. "Barca..." one ended up saying quietly. His friend widened his eyes at this, quickly adding on, "But we think you're class! You've been mental to watch this season."

"Thanks, mate. I'll have to tell the Barca lads even their fans are supporting Madrid this season! No wonder with the state of this game." At this, you brought your phone back to face you, giving the boys a look as to say, Okay, you can go now. You almost felt a little bad for embarrassing them but then remembered how annoying they were during the game and didn't regret a thing. "You're brutal," Jude said, shaking his head at your antics.

"They were annoying," you replied with a shrug. "I think I have to go to class now. I'll call you before our train to Manchester leaves tonight."

He smiled widely at this, ecstatic that he would get to see you after his game tomorrow. "Okay. I can't wait to see you. You too (y/bsf/n)!"

"Yeah, yeah. Me too. I love you, bye!"

"Love you, too." he smiled brightly before hanging up the phone.

-

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4

A Prayer in the Prospect of Death

Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives. Words: 2.8k

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

“Tell me luv.”

Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive. 

“It’s silly.”

“You’re always silly, now tell me.”

You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it. 

“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”

You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it. 

It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime. 

Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well. 

Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.

“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”

“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”

Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth. 

“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”

He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).

“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed. 

You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.

“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck. 

It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.  

“Don’t do that.”

“You don’t want praise and kisses?”

He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it? 

“I don’t want you to pretend.”

He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now. 

“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently. 

“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”

You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.  

“Do you understand me?” he snapped. 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl… wanna get married?”

You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man. 

“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”

“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”

“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Yes you bloody well are!”

“Wanna bet?!”

-

He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.

-

As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.

It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen). 

In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened. 

You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.

But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade. 

Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.

You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand. 

You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.

–

Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.

He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.

It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer? 

He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.

He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family. 

And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out. 

The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family. 

He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait. 

It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).

“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son. 

The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative. 

“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”

His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could. 

“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”

Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours. 

“I’m ready!”

“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”

The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.

“What the fuck did you do Si!”

[writer-in-theory]

A Cat Named Eddie — part two

part one part two part three

--

Eddie half-expected it to blow over.

It was cruel, sure, but it wasn't like worse hadn't been said before. He hadn't forgotten the words they used to throw at each other in school, or even the slight off-center teasing the entire group participated in.

Steve had crossed a line first, he was just readjusting the center. That was all.

Except it hadn't blown over, and now things were weird. Eddie hadn't realized how often he saw Steve until that presence disappeared entirely. When Steve dropped off the kids for D&D, he stayed firmly in the car, or sometimes even sent Nancy or Jonathan to do it instead. There weren't anymore night when Steve would come over with a pack of beer and and some cigarettes, whispering for him to not tell Henderson he was smoking again like it was some tightly held secret. Steve still came to movie nights in the Wheeler basement—if only because the others would notice if he wasn't there—but instead of sitting next to each other whispering about the cool new effects or how they would've better handled a horror situation, they sat on opposite sides of the basement.

It sucked, frankly.

"What the hell did you do to Steve?" Dustin came charging at the van the second he pulled back up to the trailer. How long had the kid been waiting there for him?

Eddie groaned, looking over at Dustin as dramatically as he could manage. "Isn't he supposed to be working on your language?"

"Eddie!"

"I didn't do anything to Harrington," Eddie told him, though the expression on Dustin's face showed just how unconvinced he was. "He started it."

He winced at the way it sounded, already anticipating the unimpressed look Dustin was giving him. "Really, Eddie? He started it? What are you, four?"

"Hey! This is adult stuff, you'll understand when you're older."

"Doesn't sound like it. Sounds more like you're in e—"

"Henderson, nothing happened between Steve and I. I dunno what he said to make you think that but we'll be fine."

"He's moping, Eddie," Dustin practically whined. "It hasn't been this bad since Nancy. Can't you just apologize for whatever he thinks you did so you can kiss and make up?"

"Who says I did anything?"

"I think you both did something stupid," Dustin corrected, crossing his arms over his chest. It was alarming how quickly he was beginning to mimic Steve's mannerisms. "Just fix it."

And sure, maybe the kid had a point. He was one of the smartest people Eddie had ever met, so of course he did. That didn't make it any easier to consider how to do such a thing. It was easy to say 'fix it', but a whole lot harder to figure out what to fix in the first place.

So it was another week until anything else happened. Another week of no Steve, another week of not being able to sleep and realizing he'd been relying on phone calls to the other man to lull him back to sleep when he had a nightmare. Even when it was Steve who called, it always seemed like Eddie could get back to sleep much better than before.

Three weeks after the incident, Eddie stepped foot back inside Family Video.

"Get out," Robin immediately spoke from the center counter, not looking up from the tapes she was organizing to place back on the shelves.

"Missed you too, Buckley," Eddie tried to tease, but the look Robin gave him was harsh, cold in a way he wasn't sure the band nerd had ever been capable of before. "Okay, I get it, I hurt Harrington's feelings."

Robin glanced over at a door on the back wall, maybe the break room, before she looked back at him. "You didn't just hurt his feelings, asshole."

"He was—" Eddie started, voice raising a higher pitch before he told himself to relax. Instead, he leaned over the counter to close their proximity. "What if Harrington hasn't really changed as much as you think he has?"

Robin blinked, wordlessly watching him for a few seconds. Then she scoffed, rolled her eyes, then refocused on the tapes scattered around her. "I think you're the one who's stuck in high school, Eddie."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"You're so focused on him being a jock that you're totally missing the obvious. I mean come on, I thought Harrington was the biggest dingus I'd ever be friends with but you might've beaten him."

"I hate to ask this..." Eddie started, lifting his eyes to look to the ceiling as though the answer might be plastered there. "But what's the obvious?"

Robin looked up at him, really looked at him, then shook her head. "I cannot wait until you two figure this one out."

--

Eddie had no idea what the fuck Robin meant by that, and it certainly didn't get any clearer as the days passed.

It was impossible not to linger on it, though. He laid in bed unable to sleep, just thinking about what the hell she was trying to tell him. He ended up trying to replay the last day he'd spoken to Steve, tried to figure out where it all went so wrong, how all of this ended up pinned on him when Steve was the one who—

He walked into Family Video that day. Robin and Steve were talking. He eavesdropped. Okay, not the best start.

Steve said Eddie had sat on his lap. And bit him. And slept with him.

No, he said they slept in the same bed.

It still didn't make sense. All of it still sounded like the setup to a bad joke, like the second Eddie acknowledged it Steve would jump out with the 'I gotcha'. None of it made sense, because of there was no 'gotcha' then what was the point of saying all of that to Robin? To the kids? Why make everyone think they were closer than they were? Why bring up all of these things right as Eddie figured out he kind of liked the idea of laying in bed with Steve Harrington?

Eddie wanted to scream.

Instead, he got out of bed, tossed on a jacket, and started walking. It was just beginning to get colder, enough that he needed to curl his shoulders inward the more he walked. There was no destination in mind, though he ended up somewhere anyway.

He ended up by the Harrington house, of course.

It would've been easier to turn around and walk away, pretend he had never showed up there. But Eddie was tired of running, and maybe this would at least prove something to the both of them (what that was, he still wasn't sure). At the very least, maybe the strange ache in his chest that hadn't gone away since he heard Steve's words weeks ago would ease enough that he could breathe freely again. So he knocked.

Steve looked like he wanted to close the door in Eddie's face. Maybe they both deserved it, to not be friends and not figure out this whole situation and to just sit in this hurt forever until all of their friends got tired of their bullshit. Except Eddie was tired of deserved too, having heard plenty of what he 'deserved' after Chrissy was killed.

"We need to talk," Eddie spoke up, and Steve sighed and nodded, though didn't move from the doorway.

"It's fine, man, there's nothing to talk about," Steve told him. "We're good, I'm fine."

"Well as long as Harrington is fine," Eddie returned quickly, wincing immediately after. "I'm not. Nothing about this is fine."

Steve sighed and leaned his hip against the doorframe. And shit, why did he get to look so annoyed that this conversation was happening? Eddie deserved an apology too, didn't he? Didn't he?

"Yeah, okay this was a mistake," Eddie hissed, taking a step backward and shaking his head.

"What now?" Steve snapped, nothing but pure annoyance and frustration in his voice. It reminded him of all the times people told him to shut up, to get over it. Not everyone is gonna like you, not everyone wants to be your friend. But damn did he want to be more with Steve.

"You don't even get it, do you?" Eddie returned, feeling that same uncontrollable anger bubble up in him. How dare Steve be annoyed now, when he'd come to try to figure things out? "You think you can make fun of whatever freak dares to like you? Well guess what, Harrington, it's not fucking funny, and when you fuck up most people want an apology."

"What are you talking about?" Steve threw his hands in the air, one continuing up to tug and pull at his hair. "You've been acting so c—"

"Crazy? That's it, right? I'm crazy Eddie Munson, so desperate for you I'll just bite you or something?"

"What are you—"

"I heard you," Eddie confessed. "At Family Video, I heard you making fun of me. Telling Robin all about how the gay guy was sitting in your lap and sleeping in your bed. That's not cool you know, lies like that get people hurt."

"I—" Steve's hazel eyes widened in realization. He shook his head, disbelieving as he watched Eddie. And fuck, did that look on Steve's face irritate the hell out of him. "You're kidding me."

"Here's a tip, don't talk gossip in public, big boy."

"So you heard me talking, you were confused, and instead of just asking like a normal person, you assumed I was a terrible human being? I have that right?" Well it sounded bad when Steve put it that way.

Eddie shrugged, to which Steve scoffed, shoulders deflating.

"Right, it's not that far off to assume I'd do that, huh?" Steve responded. He looked sad, those hazel eyes looking as doe-like as ever. The ache in Eddie's chest went away, but it was replaced by something sharper, the distinct feeling that something had gone horribly wrong here. "Look, I...I don't know why I named him that. I just...he looked a little rough at first, and then when I gave him a safe place to land he had this huge personality. He's goofy, and full of energy, and so loving I just..." Steve shrugged, bending down to pick up something from behind the door.

It was a fucking cat. The little guy was all black and a little too thin, though looked to be on the up and up. He was curled up comfortably in Steve's arms, where even now one large hand idly scratched behind one ear.

"You have a cat. You got a cat and you named it Eddie," Eddie said dully, monotone with the shock of the whole thing. Dread filled his stomach, pitting something dark and heavy there. "You named a cat after me."

"My mistake," Steve answered, grabbing onto the edge of the door with his free hand. "Forgive me, I'm just a dumb jock, you know."

"Wait, Steve—" Eddie rushed to grab onto the door but it had already closed tightly, leaving him outside with no way to fix the situation.

He'd fucked up, big time, but at least now he knew what Robin meant. He knew, and now he wouldn't stop until he fixed things. He would, because Steve named a cat after him.

--

Just one more part. It was really meant to be just this part but it was getting a little long, my apologies! And don't worry, there'll be fluff and some eddie the cat joy in there too.

Tagging whoever asked on the last reply, sorry if I missed anyone or tagged someone accidentally! It's totally not necessary, but a small reminder that I really appreciate feedback or if you enjoyed it, reblogs💜

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[oacest]

My thoughts on the audio are that I genuinely cannot come up with a sane explanation. I don't think Liam was necessarily in the studio but he has to be talking about him, right? Like IDK there was some visual effect or whatever, literally who else could be the cunt Noel doesn't want to see. Beyond which I am not a proper scholar so please let me know if I'm way off base but I have an extended divorce theory that goes:

2009: Breakup, they're both big mad for a minute

201?-2012: They are texting and like, sending their kids to the same school. possibly the most normal they've ever been.

2013-2015: Liam blows his entire life up and is extremely sad about the consequences of his own actions. I saw actual video footage of Noel saying that he's shocked beady eye broke up and he's actually sweet about it and tells Liam not to give up? who is this man. anyway while Liam will later claim Noel wasn't there for him during the divorce but as a general rule they're much nicer about each other when they're divorcing other people. this is where I become extremely conspiratorial because at some point they had to get the documentary off the ground and a second, more personal breakup is clearly going down around this time. I believe in their ability to deeply wound each other by playing cryptic telephone through the press but I think it genuinely makes more sense if they were actually talking, perhaps about a potential reunion.

2016-2020: supersonic documentary and also (coincidentally?) the apocalypse. Liam launches his solo career, Noel hates it and is pretty relentlessly mean about it and about Liam more generally. we are gearing up for the kind of tweeting/podcast commenting where you call your brother your ex-wife. I think this is also when Noel decides to drag Molly into it for some reason. Liam says publicly that he thinks Noel was waiting for him to hit rock bottom so he could be magnanimous about saving him. whether he thinks this because of something concrete noel did or said or because he's liam is a mystery. the Anais incident goes down, the vogue article comes out. we are never ever getting back together for real this time. noel says a bunch of normal and well adjusted stuff about how he wants Liam to die in a self driving car crash with Donald Trump and seeing his face makes him want to shoot up a MacDonalds.

2020-2022: the pandemic saves oasis. I'm serious. they're both stuck sitting at home with nothing to distract them from themselves and think of brighter days. apparently being trapped in a house with noel is genuinely so unbearable that Sara calls it quits (in the matter of Sara v. Noel I'm on her side). presumably this was cause for at least some self reflection. divorce is a lonely and difficult experience, sara and liam seem to legit hate each other in a way that would be a barrier to reconciliation (in the matter of Sara v. Liam I am also on her side but less so bcs she didn't get trapped in a house with him). at the same time Liam pulls off Knebworth 2022, demonstrating he can handle big events without headcasing (and without noel, and he will be doing those big events solo or otherwise). at this point I genuinely think it was just a matter of time before we were back, baybeee! let's hope they can keep it together.

bro your brain is so huge and deeply wrinkled, profoundly agree with all of this. why you on anon when your opinions are so correct and you could be sharing them with us directly tbh 👀.

but yeah, 100% covid saved oasis lmao. noel's divorce saved oasis. noel's miserable midlife crisis (ongoing) saved oasis 🥰🥰🥰. and it juuuuuust really seems like all those insane highs and lows that went on publicly in the media between them over the years probably, or at least quite possibly, had irl personal catalysts rather than just a general holdover of ill will from the 2000s. there are so many random little times one or both of them casually mentioned they were in contact, and any one of those instances can be disregarded, but when considered in retrospect from a collective standpoint..... AWFULLY DAMNING!!!

lots more to say about all of this actually, every point you've made is legit af and could be expounded upon for a hundred years, but it's midnight and im coming down with a flu (punishment for some kind of hubris im sure), so. thank you for all of this and goodnight 🙏

[crdteezv]

Frat House - Ten Ver.

DISCLAIMER (important): This is a continuation of a frat boy series - for all the Wayv members! You should read the prologue here first so everything can make more sense. You can also choose the other members here or at the end if you are interested in seeing someone else!

Paring: !best friend to lovers! frat boy! Ten x afab! reader

Genre: college! au, frat! au, smut

Synopsis: You continue playing an interesting game of Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare with Ten and his friends. You were dared to spend the night with one of them. When the bottle was spun, it landed on Ten. You wondered what type of things you and him were about to get into tonight…

Warnings: smut. !pleasure dom! ten, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, dacryphilia, switch! reader (Ten is dom leaning), slight sadism/masochism, choking, oral (giving/receiving), unprotected sex

Word Count: 4.3k words

After Hendery spun the bottle, it landed on Ten.

You instantly felt a pang of relief in your chest. You were relieved on the one hand since it landed on your best friend, and you felt the most comfortable around him. On the other hand, he has been flirting with you a lot more than usual. You also DID just make out with him in front of everyone not too long ago. 

“Oh, why don’t you look at that darling? You get to spend the night with me. This will be interesting.”

You don’t know why, but you start to become nervous. He’s never made you feel this way until now. 

“Well, I’m glad it's you and not Hendery. Now, let’s go to your room – I’m starting to get pretty tired.”

He nodded and extended his hand so you could hold it as he led you upstairs into his room. 

The others, truthfully, were a little sad they didn’t get chosen.

Hendery was the worst out of them all. 

His mind is going crazy thinking about how Ten is probably going to fuck you stupid tonight. A part of him kind of wished the bottle landed on him instead.

“Hey man, better luck next time! We know how much you wanted it to land on you. But it was based on pure luck at the end of the day.” Yangyang said as he tried to console Hendery.

“Fuck off. I don’t even care about it anymore. I hope she falls asleep way before Ten tries to pull any moves on her. I'm going to bed too, good night.”

He marched up into his room and slammed the door. Everyone in the house knew he wasn’t happy about this right now. 

He is practically the reason why this is all happening. He was the one who came up with the dare in the first place. 

“Damn, I think he is actually pissed off about all this,” Winwin said.

“I mean yeah dude, you couldn't tell how obvious it was that he liked her?” Yangyang said.

Everyone knew that Hendery had a crush on you. However, deep down he always knew Ten was going to be by your side no matter what. After tonight, he gave up any chances he had with you.

 He wondered what was going on between the two of you right now…

You entered Ten’s room and it was the same as always. 

It was dimly lit because he never really liked his room to be too bright. His room has a lot of earthy tones and he has a couple of plants. 

You plopped yourself onto his bed. You lay out on your stomach and you can feel Ten staring down at you. He was practically examining your whole body at this point. However, you didn’t notice since you were on your phone. You were checking to see if you got any new messages and you saw Renjun was blowing up your phone. 

He was at the party that Ten had mentioned to you before. He sent you a whole bunch of videos of what was going on at the party. It was videos of Johnny and Haechan fucking it up on the dance floor. You can tell they were super drunk because they kept on falling over. You started laughing at your screen, making Ten divert his attention to you.

“Hey, what are you watching that has you laughing like that?”

“Look at what Renjun just sent me.”

You showed him the video and he started laughing too. 

“Johnny is too much- why is he dancing on the table now?”

“I always forget you and Renjun were pretty close. Do you guys talk often?”

“Not as much as we used to. We call from time to time and vent to each other. He is a pretty good person to talk to. But we haven’t hung out with each other for a while now.”

You saw Ten’s face start to change a little bit when you were saying that. He forgot that before you two were friends, you were close to Renjun during high school. He was your best friend at the time and you would hang out a lot after school. Ever since you met Ten, you and Renjun don’t hang out as often anymore.

“Mhmm very interesting. Also, if you want me to sleep on the couch downstairs, I will. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted to see the look on Hendery's face when he saw me leaving with you.” 

You flipped onto your back and leaned on the bed with your elbows.

“It's ok! I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure? You don’t usually spend the night here when we hang out.”

“I'm sure, and remember that one time after Jaemin's birthday party I spent the night here because I was too drunk to go home?”

“Oh yeah, I remember! You were such a mess that night. I was practically your babysitter.”

“Oh shut up. I wasn’t even that wasted. Also, come in the bed with me. It feels weird having you standing up and looking down at me like that.”

He had this patronizing look on his face. It looked like he was about to do something crazy.

He started walking towards you with that same look he gave you before. Almost as if he was hungry for you.

He suddenly grabbed your chin and tilted it upwards him and said,

“Aww what’s wrong baby? Am I already making you nervous?”

You started to feel hot all over again. His words alone have been driving you insane all night. The more he talks down to you like this, the more it's starting to get to you.

“Umm no it’s just… I’m not used to looking up at you from this angle. It’s kind of intimidating, you know?” You said in a shaky tone.

He sees right through you. 

Ten knows that his words are already getting to you - and he’s loving every second of it. He always loved teasing you, even if it was for the simplest things. He loves seeing you get flustered for him… and it honestly just turns him on.

“Don’t play coy with me, sweetheart. I know you secretly like me like this.”

Ten began to lean down onto the bed, encaging you between his arms. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“Just admit it, baby, you like the way I make you feel.” 

He started to kiss behind your ear and then down to your neck.

“You like seeing me become crazy for you.”

He was right. 

You've been wanting him since you started to become best friends. At first, you just thought he was really cool and you wanted to constantly be around him. 

But there were times when he would mention being with other girls and it would make you feel some type of way. The idea of him being with someone else always made you feel a little… jealous?

But now he is on top of you, basically ready to devour you. Who are you to deny his advances?

“You know what? Yeah, you’re right. I have been wanting this for a while now. A part of me was excited when I saw the bottle land on you.”

Ten was a little taken aback by your response, but regardless he was relieved to know that you both wanted the same thing.

“Mhmm, good girl. I’m glad you’re willing to admit it now. Now then, shall we get started?”

“With what?”

“With me fucking you, of course. Don’t tell me you’re getting tired of me now. You said so yourself, you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

You guys were face to face at this point. 

“I'm all yours now sweetheart. I belong to you. Now, what do you want me-”

You leaned into his face and started kissing him. This time it felt different, there was more passion behind it. 

You both started to press your foreheads against each other. Things started to get more intimate. The room started to feel warm as you both were gasping for air from how intense you were making out.

You began to whimper and moan from all the sexual tension that had been building up for hours. You felt horny the moment Hendery dared Ten to kiss you during the spin-the-bottle game. 

He began to touch all over your body, starting with your chest. He wanted to see what you looked like under your crop top — and started to remove it. You had a lacy black bra on.

“Aww baby, it looks like you were ready to get fuck tonight huh?”

Your face started to heat up from embarrassment after hearing him say that.

“It’s ok darling, I know you can’t help being such a slut. The whole night everyone couldn’t stop staring at your amazing body.”

He pulled down the straps of your bra and started looking directly at your chest. 

“I, for one, couldn’t stop looking at your beautiful tits all night.”

Hearing him praise and worship your body was sending you into euphoria. You didn’t want this moment to end at all.

He began to lick and suck on one of your boobs. You let out a moan that was a little too loud.

“Shhh baby, you don’t want to wake up the others, don’t you?” 

He started groping the other boob with his other hand. He was pinching and twisting your nipple around. You were loving every second of it.

“I bet you want them to hear how fucking good I’m making you feel right now.”

He started sucking on your tits more intensely and even started nibbling on your nipple.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you know that?”

Hearing him use such degrading words on you was sending you into orbit. You never knew he could be so rough – that alone is making you wetter by the second.

He moved onto the other boob and was twisting on the one he abandoned with his fingers, spit still glistening on it. All of this is turning you on so much. The combination of his dirty talk and playing with your tits made you become a mess under him.

 “I bet you like this a lot, huh darling?”

He said that with such lust that it made you shiver. You began to press your legs together to create some sort of friction. He noticed and wasn’t pleased by it. He popped your boob out of his mouth and stopped what he was doing.

You whine from not feeling stimulated anymore.

“Mhmm, love, in order for this to work, you gotta let me take control, ok?”

You started to become more impatient - just wanting him to fuck you already. 

However, Ten was having way too much fun with you and wanted to tease you some more. He reached down between your shorts. You let out a whimper from being touched in your intimate area all of a sudden – and started to move up against him.

He wasn’t pleased by that and took his hand out of your shorts. 

You threw your head back from frustration. “Please... stop teasing and just fuck me already. I don’t know how long I can wait anymore.”

Ten gave you a little smirk and looked down at you. In his eyes, all he sees is you becoming such a desperate mess for him. He is just getting hard from seeing you like this. He had never seen you in such a needy state - and it was all for him.

“Aww baby, you look so cute being all pathetic for me. You drive me so fucking crazy when you beg for me like that.” He said breathily.

He finally took off your shorts and left you in your black lacy panties. You were wearing a matching set and Ten took note of that.

“Wow darling, you really were ready to get fucked like a slut tonight huh? Who would’ve known that you’re such a dirty girl.”

You felt so needy around him. He makes you feel so weak, and it was just turning you so much. 

He looked down at your underwear and saw the wet spot that had formed. He let out a chuckle and said in a flirty tone,

“Aww, princess, how long have you been wet for me? Don’t tell me it was during the game…”

You were too embarrassed to say anything, so you just nodded your head in confirmation.

Ten slapped your clothed cunt and you let out the loudest moan of the night. 

“Come on baby, you know that’s not going to fly with me. Use your words like a good girl for me ok?”

He was so stern about it. He was rubbing your clit over your panties, teasing you even more.

“I'm sorry, yes, I've been feeling this way since you kissed me in front of everyone!”

He is enjoying every second of this. He loved seeing you melt for him. 

“Oh is that so?”

He started to peel down your panties. He took his shirt off in the process. You stare at the bare upper half of his body. You can see all of his tattoos and slim figure.

“If that’s the case, sweetheart, how about you be good for me and make some noise as I eat your pussy?”

That right there did it for you.

You complied with his demands and spread your legs open. He grabbed your thighs with his hands and started kissing them. He kept eye contact with you the whole time. One thing you noticed about him is that no matter what, he will always have his eyes locked on you. 

He had such lust in his eyes as he began to mark and bite up your thighs. He slowly started moving down to your pussy. 

He began sucking and lapping at your cunt. He was devouring you like it was his last meal. He pushed your legs back onto your chest and started licking all over your pussy. Your legs started to shake from all the pleasure you were feeling. No one has ever made you feel this good. In that moment you knew he was the best out of anyone you’ve been with in the past. 

You start to pull on his hair forcefully and he starts whimpering into your drenched pussy. That made you even more horny. He started sucking on your clit aggressively and your eyes started rolling back into your head. He pulled away from your pussy and slapped it harder than before.

“Hey princess, you better keep your eyes on me.”

“It’s hard when you make me feel this good-”

He slapped your pussy a few times and you started whimpering, letting out a couple of tears in the process. 

Something about that made his dick twitch. 

“Aww, don’t tell me you can’t handle this. Do you want me to stop?” he said in a playful tone.

You hated how desperate he made you feel. 

You shook your head no and he hit your pussy one more time and said,

“Mhmm, don’t forget you’re supposed to use your words, remember? Now I want you to beg for me to put my fingers in you.”

He was driving you insane. All you wanted was for him to be buried inside of you.

“Please, I'm sorry… just do it already.”

He slapped your aching pussy again.

“You want me to do what exactly?”

You were at the point where you didn’t care what you were saying. You just wanted Ten so bad in this moment.

“...For you to use your fingers on me.”

He had this cocky look on his face like he knew he had won this battle. He let out a chuckle and replied,

“Mhmm that’s it, baby, I like it when you’re obedient for me. Let me just-”

Ten started ramming his fingers deep into your pussy. You let out a gasp for air and started gripping the sheets. He was fucking into you with his middle and ring finger. 

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He started sucking on your clit again. While doing all this, he stared to pull down his pants and boxers. Dick out, he started pumping it with his free hand. Pleasuring you made Ten undeniably hard. He couldn’t resist the urge to stroke his cock amidst all your moans. 

He had been waiting for this day to come.

He had always imagined what your pretty moans would sound like. He has gotten off to the thought of you touching yourself. He didn’t care if he was being perverted.  All he ever wanted to do is fuck you. 

You began to squeeze your thighs around his head. You were practically crushing him but that just made him start to moan from pleasure. He noticed that you were starting to get close and he started going faster.

“Mhmm that's right baby, cum for me.”

You were at your breaking point and couldn’t hold back anymore. You came all over his face and he licked up every drop from your cunt. 

He was still stroking his dick and you decided that it was your turn to make him feel good. You told him to sit at the edge of the bed & he moved to fulfill your demand.

You got down onto your knees and started to pump his dick with your hand. He groaned from frustration from being pent up for this long. The lustful look in your eyes was as if you were feral for him. You put his length into your mouth and started bobbing your head up and down. 

He threw his head back from all the pleasure he was receiving. He started panting and whimpering from how good you were making him feel. Who would’ve known he was this vocal?

It was kind of hot to you... 

You started to use both of your hands at the base of his dick, while simultaneously sucking on his tip. 

“Fuck….princess slow down…. I'm going to cum at this rate-”

You took your mouth off of him and he whined, even having just complained about not being able to handle it.

“Beg me to stop then.” You stated confidently.

The look on his face was priceless. He was shocked at how you just suddenly took charge. This was truly a first for him.

“Aww, don’t look so shocked now, baby. I'm only just getting started.”

You removed your hands off his member and shoved your face down onto him again. He let out a high-pitched moan. It was so loud you were certain that the others had to have heard him from downstairs. You liked making him feel this way for you. 

He starts biting his lips to conceal all the sinful noises he was making. He even moved his head away from you because he started feeling embarrassed.  You decided to tease him for being shy and remove yourself from his dick. He began to whine in frustration at not being stimulated. You had this patronizing look on your face and recited the same words he had said to you before.

“You have to keep those eyes on me if you want me to make you feel good ok? Also, don’t hold back on those pathetic moans of yours, I love all the sounds you make for me.”

Hearing those words being directed back at him was sending shivers down his spine. He started to feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. He really liked seeing this side of you. 

“I'm sorry, it won’t happen again. Can you please keep going?”

You nodded your head and went back to sucking his cock. His eyes start to roll to the back of his head from feeling you around him again. He started moaning even louder than before, all the while keeping eye contact with you. 

You were loving every second of this.

He was gripping hard into the sheets and didn’t want you to ever stop. He fantasized about this so many times - now that it was happening, he couldn’t believe it. It was rare for someone to get him in such a pathetic state. He is normally the one who is in control, and rarely the one to submit. But now, you have him wrapped around your finger and he just didn’t want to let go.  He finds it very exhilarating that you can make him feel this way.

He grabbed your hair in his hands and pulled you down onto him. You started to gag a little bit, not being able to handle this any longer .

He had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, it seems you're starting to struggle now, huh darling?”

You hated that he was right.

It was starting to get harder for you, as you were at your limit.

His face morphed into one of arrogance. He was looking down at you as if you were beneath him.

His gaze alone made you want to go right back to being a mess for him. You looked up at him with teary eyes and he started laughing condescendingly. He was enjoying every second of this.

“You’re so pathetic for me. You can’t even handle being in charge for that long – and to be honest…”

He leaned down and whispered,

“I can’t wait to fuck the shit out of you.”

Something about him saying that started to make you feel wet all over again. You were reaching your limit. 

“As a matter of fact-”

He pulled your mouth off him and threw you on the bed, climbing on top of you. You close your legs together by instinct and he said in response to your actions,

“Spread those pretty legs for me and let me fuck you.”

You nodded and he gripped your thighs and rammed his dick inside of you. You started whimpering and moaning so loud to the point where you were sure everyone in the house could hear you. But that didn’t matter to you anymore. Ten was too deep inside of you for you to care about it now. 

He was fucking you with slow and deep strokes. You were gripping the sheets of the bed, not wanting him to stop. He was making you see stars at this point, and you were lost in your own world.

“Aww yeah, baby? You wanted my dick this fucking bad? You’re practically leaking everywhere for me.”

You look down and see that his lower abdomen is wet from your juices. He was reaching you in places that had never been reached before. 

“Fuck yes… you make me feel so good. Please don’t stop…” You were babbling at this point.

He loved it when you begged so desperately for him. It looked like he found your special spot, as you let out a moan that was practically a scream. 

He started laughing at you with such a cocky look on his face - and began hitting that spot more aggressively than before. He even started choking you lightly, which made you become even more wet for him.

You both were at your breaking point. 

“Mhmm that's it, sweetheart, scream my name so everyone knows I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.”

You started moaning his name and for him to go faster. You were both at the edge of release. 

“Ten…. I’m about to….”

He kneeled into your ear and said “Alright, be good for me darling and cum ok? I'm close too…. fuck — you feel so good around me.”

You both were reaching your limits, and he went down for one last kiss, and you both finished at the same time. He rode his orgasm out inside of you, never pulling out. 

He laid down on the bed and pulled your face onto his chest. 

You both were reflecting on what just had transpired. You felt satisfied and okay with everything. To you, that was the best anyone has ever fucked you before. You were wondering what was going on in his pretty little head. 

You both just cuddled and lay in silence. Breaking the silence, he said,

“Hey, are you ok? I wasn’t being too rough with you or anything right? If you don’t want to do this again, I-”

You kissed him on the lips to stop him from continuing.

“Ten, it’s okay and you were amazing honestly. I’m all for doing it again with you in the future if you’re up for it as well.”

He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Well, that's good to hear. To be honest, I’ve been wanting to do this with you ever since we became close.”

He kissed you on your forehead and hugged you tight in his arms.

“Hey um… do you think the others heard us?” You ask tentatively.

“Oh yeah for sure, I mean did you hear yourself? You practically kept on begging me to fuck you.”

“Stop, this is so embarrassing. Now everyone knows our business I guess.”

He leaned forward and whispered in your ear,

“Let’s be honest here baby, you don’t give a fuck if they heard us.”

Your heart skipped and beat when he said that. You hated how he was right. A part of you was subconsciously being loud on purpose so the others could hear your moans. You even wondered if any of them had gotten off to all the noises you were making. 

“Shut up, you know nothing.” You retorted.

He let out a chuckle and said, 

“Now, you stay right there and I’ll get you some water. Do you want ice cream too? I think we still have some in the freezer.”

“Yeah, sure why not!”

He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, more romantic this time, and went to the kitchen to get everything for you.

You guys spent the rest of the night sharing ice cream and watching movies.

**AUTHOR NOTES** If you want to see what would happen if the bottle landed on a different member, choose here: [KUN] [WINWIN] [HENDERY] [XIAOJUN] [YANGYANG] 

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

behold, sausage not beating the watcher allegations that he started for 5 minutes. and this isn’t even including my absolute string board theory about his new life ending.

video transcription below the cut

Clip 1: Sausage is at the Vigil in Pixandria.

Sausage: Ok, really quick, I'm glad we're here. We're gonna pay our respects for all the death that's gonna be happening, uh, in that other reality. [Cut]

Alright, really quick, oh! I have candles here. One second- this is cool! I actually wasn't planning on this. Le- let's see. We have 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. Oh! Perfect number, actually. I guess we can add this to the Vigil! 14... Let's do one here, one here, let's go... boop! Perfect. 14 of them, man. Let's do another one there. This shouldn't mess with space time or anything. This might be the past, but that's fine. I've done this so many times, it's not gonna ruin anything. Ah, there it is. Let's do another one there, perfect. You guys can figure out which candles' for who, hehe. And let's- let's leave this side open, let's do it on this side. Oh, perfect. Let's light 'em all for the deaths that happened today and last time. 1, 2, 3, 4- I'll leave that one. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. Perfect! Alright. Now let's bow our heads, right here. Oh, screenshot moment! Everybody, a moment of silence for our lost, uh, brethren who have met their demise. But at the end, one did- did win, right? I don't know who that one was cause I haven't gotten that spoiler yet, but, one is alive, at the end. Rest in peace. [Cut]

o7s in the chat for all the death that happened. This is a safe space to cry, but it's okay. Because at the end, there must have been a winner. Time runs out for everybody, everyone. Time runs out for everyone. All we gotta do is just sit back and watch. And maybe listen. But I don't wanna hear any whispers out there, you guys talk with your chest because at the end, it's fine! It was worth it, it was a good fight. May they rest in peace, all the fallen. Especially Jimmy. Dying first. Canary curse, forever and ever.

Clip 2: A screenshot

Clip 3: Sausage is in his church for Bdubs in Sanctuary

Sausage: And I did throw in that that was Cleo, because that was just funny when he said his mom was calling him, so I had to do it. Uh, it's almost like my character knew that happened, somehow. [Cut]

Ah, yes. I'm not a Watcher! Ask Martyn, he can confirm.

Clip 4: Jimmy is flying around his Christmas world

Jimmy: -one. [reading Sausage's chat message] "Jimmy! Really weird thing I saw last time I was online but I forgot to ask, if you go into the first igloo, stand in the door and look directly to the opposite s- side of the mountain"? [Cut]

Here... [Jimmy sees the Secret Keeper remake and goes silent for almost 30 seconds. He gulps and then stays silent for another 15 or so seconds] I'm not pressing any of these buttons. I'm not- I'm not pressing any of these buttons! Don't tell me that's me! [A few seconds of silence] What in the-? [Another few seconds of silence] No, the buttons don't work. [He presses a button] Good. This is where the server just blows up, [laugh]. Well, that's odd. Genuinely, I don't know why- how th- how that is there. I think it's Sausage playing pranks on me. He knows I have nightmares, still, about this fella.

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Birthday.”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST

With my pregnancy and everything that had been going on in my life— taking care of Lori, pondering about movie roles I wouldn’t get because I was pregnant, Austin, Callum, my head was spinning. Literally. So much that I forgot my own birthday.

But one morning as I overslept, I hot woken up by Austin and Lori singing happy birthday to me, I started waking up. Rubbing my eyes before laughing.

“Happy birthday to you!~” They finished the song very off-key.

They brought the cake to me to blow the candles. It was VERY BAD decorated, sprinkles everywhere, blue icing all over the place, star candles.

“Make a wish.” Austin smiled as he held the cake, Lori on the other hand had crawled on the bed and wrapped her arms around me.

I didn’t even know what to wish for, so I only blew the candles and smiled. “Thank you so much. It’s a beautiful cake.”

“I did it, mommy!” Lori practically yelled at my ear.

“Oh, my cake boss.” I pulled her in for a more tight hug and kissed her head.

In gifts, well— that year Austin got me another locket. It was for three photos, to put, Lori, the upcoming baby and his photo. Lori on the other hand, brought me a ton of drawings she had done. This was a very different birthday, I guess, it was the pregnancy that made me emotional.

I received a hundred messages and calls from peers, family members, co-stars— whatever. It was weird. 24 was a weird age. I definitely still felt 22, I still wanted to look 18, but sometimes I suspected that I wanted to be ten all over again.

I remembered my birthday parties growing up. Being the center of attention for at least an afternoon. My parents never denied me of birthday parties. Since I was three until I was ten I had parties every year. My parents were Mexicans, they liked showing me off.

I often looked at my old pictures, I looked so happy. Old videos were my favorite though. I saw my father holding me as my mom stood by his side. I didn’t remember the last time I spent a birthday with them. I knew that once I married it would all be different but it didn’t mean that I didn’t want familiarity.

I went out that day, I went to do grocery shopping. I should’ve been at the club now that I think about it. But anyways, I did what I had to do. Went through every single aisle, got what I needed. It was my relaxation.

After that I drove to McDonalds, I thought that it would be another lonely birthday. Just by myself, writing the same ‘Thank you!’ message to all who congratulated me. I parked and ate alone, then at about 4:30 PM I drove myself back to our house, it was a really long drive. I arrived at about 5:30. Why the fuck did we buy a house so goddamn away from actual LA?

I got out the car, carrying the bag. I shouldn’t even be doing this while pregnant. I took the keys and opened the door. The lights were off. But then I almost had a heart attack.

“Happy birthday!”

Everyone I cared for and loved were there. I dropped the grocery bag immediately because I flinched. Everyone laughed. I laughed too.

“Oh my God! You guys scared the shit out of me!” I placed a hand on my heart, shaking my head as I laughed.

Austin walked up to me, looking tall, lean— perfect. He could be a son of a bitch but my god, was he good-looking.

“To my bestest girl.” He said, looking down on me. He hugged me. I started crying. “Why’re you crying?” He pouted a little, bringing me closer to him.

I felt a little embarrassed when I heard everyone going ‘awww’ but I smiled as I wiped my tears. Austin wasn’t one for big reunions, for big parties, for having a lot of people in the house. But the fact that he took the time to invite a ton of people, decorate, BE HERE. I know it could be considered the bare minimum since he was my husband but to me it meant a lot. That he actually loved me, even if he didn’t always show it how I wanted.

I saw my mom and dad, my sisters. I kissed each of their cheeks. I missed them a lot. Jackie and Pattie, my beautiful sisters. We grew together. We saw each other in our worst moments.

It was good, perfect I would say. Austin had convinced my own father of helping him in the grill. And my father never really accepted Austin. That was a step. Until Callum arrived. What the hell was he doing here? Not that I didn’t want him here but I kinda— felt between the wall and the sword.

“I heard there was a party.” He said with a charming smile. Handing me a box. “My mum makes this cookies for you. She told me to give them to you. She ain’t making them for me anymore, just so you know. She likes you.”

Of course his mom liked me. Of course she did. Did she also knew that I was screwing her son behind my husband’s back? I don’t think so. And if she knew, she wouldn’t have made me these amazing cookies.

It was a good party. I was in the kitchen preparing burgers. Callum barged in.

“We need to talk.” Callum said.

I wanted to run away like a chicken without its head. I nodded, looking at him.

“I know that you won’t leave Austin. I’ve come to terms with that, believe me. I ain’t takin’ you away from him. I understand that you two are a family— and that you probably actually love him.”

I wanted to deny it but it was true.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered to him. I felt bad, I’m not going to lie.

I was the same scum Austin was.

“Hey. No, dont apologize. I’m no saint either, we’re all shitty here. Austin, you, me. We all knew. And I knew you were married. What else did I expect?”

There was a long silence, I wanted to speak, but what was I supposed to say?

“You’re still my friend.”

What a stupid thing came out my mouth. Jesus Fucking Christ. I wished someone had sown my mouth as a child.

“You’re my friend too.” Callum said awkwardly.

Well that was definitely embarrassing. I knew, I knew that we would screw again someday. You don’t simply end an affair just like this. An affair has to end with one last passionate night of love-making. But we would have to wait. At least until my baby was born.

We were all gathered around the dining room, I was sitting on a chair. Austin brought a cake with the candles lit. As everyone sang happy birthday and I could see their faces, regret, shame, guilt, started filling my mind. I stared between Austin and Callum, Austin held Lori in his arms while Callum only held a cup.

I started to wonder about my wish. What should I wish for?

To be clean again?

To have never stepped out my wedding vows?

To have never been disrespected by my own husband?

To have a perfect family?

To have a chance at acting?

To finally get what I want?

To be a child again?

As I blew the candles I thought of my wish:

I wish to be able to start again.

But even then. I knew it was impossible. I’ve made my bed. Might as well be delusional and think all of this could change just because I was childish enough to believe that a dumb birthday wish could turn true.

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY YALL and I wanted to do upload a new chapter of this story. About Cynthia’s birthday.

Tysm for reading.

[atl0sss]

I was on Twitter yesterday, and I saw someone talking about #qBBH wanting the old #qForever back. Unfortunately, this qForever no longer exists. I really hope that people inside the island start to notice who our president is now. It's sad to see, but q!Forever died when he saw Richas's shirt on the bed.

He was literally driven crazy. Honestly q!Forever started to die during the election arc. With all the distrust they began to place upon him, seeing his best friends moving away from him, seeing Richas moving away from him after he became president. Everyone was leaving, and then his son was literally gone. He spent hours and hours waiting for him to come back. When q!Forever needed someone to actually ask if he was okay, the only ones who did were q!Tubbo (Because he didn't have an egg to look for) and q!Pac (Because they are family.)

And man, watching him freak out was really something Intense, you know? He started looking madly for Pomme and Dapper, clinging to the hope that they were still there, that he still had something to protect, but, he hadn't. And the only thing that kept this man sane was having something to protect. Q!Forever has always been like this. That's why he built the N.I.N.H.O. and it was for this same reason that when he invaded pomme's room to look for her and the "voices" started to complain, he said "There's no reason to protect N.I.N.H.O. anymore, the eggs are gone." And everything he did over the months, all the paranoia and overprotection towards Richas were in vain. The promise which he did for Chayene and Talulah in the last night was useless . He began to slowly succumb to madness. He knew that q!Aypierre was lying to him. And the only thing on his mind was to kill him. He hid in Richas's room and begged q!PAC to appear. And told him that.

I decided to subtitle this conversation, because it's really interesting. Q! forever tells Pac everything he's feeling at the moment, this was the last time he spoke openly about his feelings. He talks about the 2000 mines, about the voices in his head He talks about wanting to kill q!Pierre when he realizes he's lying. It's hard to control his impulses now that he no longer has Richas. Unlike q!Cell, q!F never went to therapy, lol. The voices in his head are out of control, searching for something.that makes them feel relief. When you meet q! Forever long enough, you realize that these laughs he makes aren't his normal laughs. He's always laughing and smiling, but this here My friends, it is a demonstration of a mad man.

(Tumblr won't let me upload more than one video, so I'll leave the link to my Twitter post here, so you can see the entire conversation: https://twitter.com/Atl0sss_/status/1709774361408741873?t=bhD9XtHh0a29yCqREP5KfQ&s=19 )

This was one of the few moments where he said things without any filter. About the desire for death and revenge that he has, without caring if it was correct to direct that towards q!Ayp. He just wanted Take out the anger. So he has these daydreams, and talks about it with q!PAC, Because he's the only one who Q!F knows will listen. And he listens, and plays with q!F, makes jokes and deals with the matter calmly, which makes the president calm down.

But unfortunately that wasn't enough. After that, q!Ever is alone again, he isolates himself in the presidential room. And he waits. (It's very interesting how cc!Forever leaves the character positioned, so that we can see the days passing inside Minecraft. )

and days pass, and he waits. He doesn't sleep, he stays awake, just talking to the "voices" and waiting. At some point, he starts listening to the clock, over and over again. He tries to blow up the clock in the room, but it's not enough. The clock is inside his head.

This man literally went crazy from waiting so long. Do you understand this?

And he says this, which was definitely one of the things that marked me the most in this whole arc of the disappearance of the eggs:

"Everything that has moved my character so far, What made us do things, and His entire universe revolves around the son he loves so much, circles around Richardlyson. I won't be able to ignore the fact that Richarlyson disappeared to play with capybaras, or anything. [...]"

Anyway. This man will then meet with the cucurucho. They talk, Q!Forever threatens to blow up the entire island, tells Cucurucho to try to kill him, tries to blow up the federation office and finds the live promising to blow up the entire island the other day. And then he builds a TNT plane to blow up the island, and chases Cucurucho with a chainsaw (both things are canon) What do I mean by all this? I want to say that, since the moment that Richarlyson disappeared, that q!Forever no longer exists. The man who Built N.I.N.H.O, the man who was close to q!Bad, started dying during the elections and ended his life when his son left. But, in the end, was he ever real? That man existed because of Richas. That personality was completely shaped so that Richarlyson would be safe.

His paranoia, his way of relating to other islanders, his candidacy and presidency, everything was ALWAYS for Richas. Who is he without his son? If the eggs die, what will happen to q!Forever? Q!Forever president and QForever island are the same person. But, Q!Forever without Richas and!Forever with Richas are completely different people. Whether he is president or not. He had power once and continues to insist on being honest. But without Richas, how long will he maintain this pose? How long will he accept being disrespected if he has nothing left to protect? He is trying to protect the people, without anyone better for the inhabitants, but they are not Richas. And at some point, he will give up.