#for the record.........some drugs are cool

[belovedyandere]

Yandere concubine who desperately wanted you in his bed but still too prideful to really admit it. Who paid off some random servicemen to put something in your drink . And when you are hit this sudden fervor, how kind of him to invite his chamber. You are really so lucky that he is willing to bare his body to you in the time of need. That is until you have him pin against his bed as he begs for you to please fuck him already.

Basically prideful yandere concubine who went from ‘you’re lucky to get to fuck me’ to ‘please fuck me and don’t stop’

cw. coercion, drugging, dubcon, overstimulation, sexual themes, stalking, yandere themes

Desperation can truly motivate a person to do acts that they themselves never thought possible. Especially if it is motivated by intense longing, and to be exposed to you yet not able to have you touch him the way he wished, it was absolute torture.

Objectively it would be considered easy to hire a servant to slip a pleasure inducing drug in your beverage without any knowledge from you or bystanders. But realistically, your concubine had to consider many elements and possible outcomes. Now you must remember that your concubine does not only have beauty but intelligence, if his status hadn’t been a lowly peasant, he would have certainly been a trusted advisor. He had enough information on your schedule of the week, mentally recorded after months of observing you. He knew the best possible time to act on his plan was the early morning of you being assigned to him. Unlike the others, you were quite diligent in your duties, each day consisting of waking early in the morning, breakfast, training, guarding, training, dinner and sleep. A repeated routine that the concubine thought was unnecessary. Since you woke earlier compared to others, you were often left alone, enough to have someone serve you a drink that had added ingredients.

The only part of the plan left was to find a servant who would be trustworthy and willing to do as asked. The concubine considered that he could be the one to serve you, but that would grow suspicion and he needn’t to involve the lustful monster of a princess. You were very secluded, never fraternising with servants nor any guards, but you were not hated. In fact, you were the very few who respected servants and treated them kindly. Admirable, of course, but troubling for the concubine. He looked to newly employed servants, and there he found a woman that was clearly enthralled with him, easy to sway to do his bidding.

Now came the day. Your concubine had attempted to sleep, he wanted to look his absolute best for you but his excitement got the better of him. Fortunately, he had the chance to be serviced by the servants, both himself and his room were clean and looking presentable. He adorned lustrous jewellery and the finest of silk clothing that were revealing, something the concubine could at least thank the princess for. Now all he must do is wait, which was easier said then done. Minutes felt like hours, but finally you arrived, voicing your attendance and you were excitedly invited in as you always had been before.

Prior to walking in, your body began to heat slowly and vision grow blurry. Entering the concubines chambers felt enticing, the incense and the dim-lit room felt comforting, however, seeing the man across you sit ever so elegantly with gleaming eyes made your body stir in unfamiliar ways. You closed the doors behind you and stood as strong and balanced as you could, but your cloudy eyes and heavy breath gave it away.

It worked.

It took some convincing for the concubine to let you sit on his bed, his voice soft and sympathetic, noticing your condition. He took it upon himself to undress you, hoping for you to breathe the cool air that your uniform hadn’t allowed. But his twitching hands and shaking legs proved to show his desperation, his patience had grown as thin as paper. He sat beside you, his hands slowly taking yours to hold, finally pleading his desires to you, stripping himself of his so called dignity and inviting you to ravish him. Your mind had grown foggy the moment you had sat down, almost as though your body had grown it’s own will to move, grabbing the concubine’s shoulders and pushing his back against the bed while you yourself had ripped off your lower clothing.

You hadn’t noticed the concubines excited grunt when you roughly man-handled him, his cock protruding against his garments, already creating a wet spot that began to expand. He called for you without shame, asking you to take him and use his body however you pleased. You had ripped his own clothes soon after, sending the heated concubine into a groan at your show of strength. Your knees had plopped themselves onto the bed, your cunt hovering over his cock, swaying your lips against it while your concubine pleaded with you desperately, wanting you to shove his cock in you and ride him like an animal, he whined the longer you took until you finally shunted your hips down, taking in his cock. His eyes rolled at the sensation, the tight walls that exuded a snake’s deadly talent of killing its predators through suffocation. His hands trembled as it travelled to rest on your broad hips, his moans loud and full of divine pleasure as you rolled your hips with such vigour, arms came to rest beside his head, lowering your body to where your face met his. He leaned forward to have a chance at those lips, and you were too blinded by the drug to know what was truly going on. You smashed your lips against him, your cunt squeezing his cock while you rode him.

It didn’t take long for him to orgasm. Concubine has bedded many women, all of which he never found true pleasure in, to finally climax, to finally have you in his chambers and use him how he had dreamed of for months, his emotions felt unexplainable, the chatty man was rendered speechless, left to a disheveled mess of moans and whines of wanting more. The drug prolonged the exposure to climaxing, taking longer for you to reach it, you took to changing positions constantly.

Your concubine was repeatedly grabbed, dragged and pulled mercilessly. From the bed to the floor, where your legs wrapped around him to sink his cock further in as he fucked you with ecstasy in his face. From the floor to the wall, where you carried him yourself and pushed your hips against his, using him as a doll to pleasure yourself. No room was left spared, each part of the chambers coated in his cum, though not to the amount of your cunt, the semen overflowing as though he was a teenager finally experiencing sex. It was until it grew dark outside did you finally reach the climax that blew your mind, leaving you restless and entering sleep right after while your concubine laid beside you breathless and full of pure joy. He winced when moving, his lower body littered with bruises and his cock used to where he felt poking it would be too much. But nevertheless, he moved himself to sleep against your body, your arm under his head as he drifted to sleep. He wasn’t too worried if you didn’t go back to where the guards were meant to rest, after each guarding you had with him, the next day was your day off. An excuse could easily be made and a ‘witness’ can easily take your side if need be. But for now he wanted to take in his success.

[stars4chratt]

Subconscious

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Again, smut / use of drugs / confessing / cocky to sub!Matt / softdom!reader / high sex (i do not condone this in any way guys, just a fair warning) / praise / stoner!Matt / grinding / handjob / vanilla(ish) / mommy kink / pet names (sweetheart, princess, mommy, etc etc) / a trip (no pun) / aftercare / a lot of swearing

Summary: The reader and Matt have been the best of friends ever since they were eleven. As they got older, the more vulnerable they were to alcohol and drugs. Matt would always be by her side getting high and drunk at desolate and abandoned parks, or maybe even in Matt’s room. Matt and the reader agreed to only stick to natural stuff like weed. But now, they’re taking it up a notch by taking a round and earthy psychedelic.

Author’s Note: stoner Matt > as i’m writing this i have Matt’s recorded twitch streams playing in the back. MY BAD I KEEP ADDING THE SWEETHEART PET NAME WITH MATT I JS LOVE IT SM ESP AFTER THE BAGS TT. Anyways, this wasn’t requested or anything this is something i just really wanted to write because i love it when there's a best friend trope weaved in <3 HOPE YOU ENJOYYYY. From Maxine, with love ♡.

“Are we still friends? Can we be friends?” - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?, TYLER THE CREATOR

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Matt has always had an obsession with spirituality and the 60s. From the posters of Jimi Hendrix on his walls, to the deluxe edition Beatles vinyl records that sit alongside the vintage record player on his hardwood dresser.

Ever since Matt’s dad bought a collection of thrifted CDs for his car when he was only a toddler, he fell in love with psychedelic rock and the whole new era of love and peace and tranquil that came around in the mid to late 20th century.

Whenever he isn’t in his cramped and maximalist abode smoking bubba kush, he’s out going to underground stores which sell abstract and kaleidoscopic clothes and fashion statements in general.

The vibrant colours and the political mindsets and the pure lack of fucks to give during the time period has Matt enamoured. Calling him a big fan would be putting it extremely lightly.

You and Matt first met in 6th grade of middle school. From what you can remember, you were sitting next to him.

He was laser focused on his assignment with big and obvious headphones clasped onto his head.

Bobbing his head slowly to the smooth and flowy melodies, you pat him on the shoulder.

He turns his head and immediately pulls the headphones to the side so one of his ears perks out.

“What music are you listenin’ to?” Matt instantly thinks you’re about to ridicule him. He, for some odd reason, has always been the victim of mockery. You never understood why, he’s such a cool and chilled out kid.

“O-oh…um…” Matt stutters nervously. He was truly unsure of what to say or do in this situation. You could feel the fight or flight trigger in his hard gaze.

“Gimme the headphones! I wanna listen.” Exclaiming with an odd sense of compassion. Matt furrows his eyebrows and looks at you funny but still gives you his headphones anyway.

You whiz the headphones around your ears and onto your head. The hallucinatory notes mixing with the light and staticky voices put you in a heavy but pleasing trance.

You feel a big smile wipe across your face clean as you look back at Matt staring at you impatiently. Silently telling you ‘give me my headphones back, you weirdo.’

“This is so cool! What’s the song called?” You speak enthusiastically, still with a big grin on your profile.

Matt’s eyes light up slightly at you. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s shocked at your interest in this type of thing or because he was alarmed by how bubbly and enthusiastic you are.

“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds… It’s by the Beatles.” He drawls out, now looking down at the floor and fidgeting with his fingers.

“Siiiiiick. Are there any more songs like this one?” You hand him back his headphones, you start to rock in your chair in anticipation and out of looking for something to do now that you don’t have the sensory fulfilment that is Matt’s music taste.

“Oh of course. They’re a band with a bunch of other songs and albums, kid.” Matt calling you kid after almost instantaneously sparking an acquaintance with you makes you giggle to yourself. What a funny nickname for someone you just met.

“Well, can you show me them? Pretty please?” You utter with an exaggerated pout on your lips as you flutter your eyelashes at him. You intertwine your hands and rest them at the side of your face to hyperbolise the sad puppy look, making Matt chuckle lightly.

“Fine…there are many other bands like them, y’know.”

“Show me those ones too!” Yelling down his ear with eagerness, he flinches at your noisiness and covers his ear you just bellowed in.

“Ugh.” He scoffs in annoyance, whilst you’re sitting across him with the biggest twinkle in your eye.

“Yay! Thank youuuuu.” Your genuine excitement makes his face flush into a deep maroon. He turns his head around in embarrassment, trying not to maintain eye contact.

“Yeah whatever, kid.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

NINE YEARS LATER

“Wanna try it?”

What Matt has in his hands is a vacuum sealed metallic bag. You could not make out what it is but you knew for sure it was some kind of drug.

“What the fuck is it? I thought we made an agreement that we weren’t gonna do chemical shit. Y’know how I feel about that.” You scrunch your nose in both confusion and disgust. Yet you were still curious as to what Matt was holding in his hand.

“Kid, have you never heard of magic mushrooms before? Jesus, for someone who smokes a fuck ton of wedding cake, you seem to have no clue what these boomers are.”

“I do know what a fucking magic mushroom is, Matt. I just didn’t want it to be a bag of heroin or some shit like that.” Your legs cross whilst you look at him through your eyelashes. You’re genuinely hesitant since you’ve never tried a mushroom before. Yeah, you smoked weed. But this is a whole different thing. This is a literal psychedelic.

“Heroin at mass is sold in baggies or balloons, stupid.” He chortles. “As I was saying, are you gonna try it with me or nah?” He chucks the small pouch at you. 

There’s a small plastic window where you can see the muddy fungi inside. You cringe in distaste, you wonder to yourself where the fuck he got them from. Incredibly skittish, you want to back out. But curiosity and temptation is killing you at the same time.

“I don’t think I wanna try this Matt. It seems stupid.” You scoff. Matt smirks down at you and grabs the bag again.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, kid. It’s just mushrooms, you’re not gonna die.” He waves the sealed bag tantalisingly around your face.

“Fine, fine whatever.” You give him the bird and suck your teeth. He chuckles like a little child at your offensive remarks. He offers you the bag again.

“Ladies first.” He remarks cunningly.

You break open the packet and receive a heavy waft of dirt. You turn your head the other way immediately as a natural reaction. The strong scent makes your face almost turn inside out in repulsion.

“You’re so dramatic.” Matt smirks. You turn back at him with a mean glare.

“You sniff it, then. ‘Cuz you’re soooo tough.” You jitter mockingly right up in his face. Dragging your hand right under his nostrils for him to get a whiff. His eyebrows knit close together and screw his eyes shut.

“Who’s dramatic now? Hm?” Your teasing rhetoric strikes one of his nerves. He immediately plunges his hand in the bag and takes the squishy piece of matter.

“Hey hey, slow down. Let me get one out.” You yell out at him in shock at his lack of hesitancy. He rolls his eyes with impatience while your shivering hand places itself into the plastic bag to pick one out.

“Oh yeah, just so y’know, this could last up to 5 hours.” Matt states super casually. Your eyebrows raise as you look back up at him. You’re not all that surprised though. What were you expecting? It's not plain jane weed, it’s mushrooms.

“I don’t give a fuck anymore, let’s just get this over with.” 

Soon after you said that, you both hastily gulped the abnormal saprophyte down. Both of your faces contort at the peculiar taste and texture.

“Eurgh… that was the worst.” You gag at the displeasure going down your throat and into your digestive system.

“Yeah, this is a one time thing for sure.” Matt affirms with a deep frown. He turns to his queen sized bed with silk sheets and plops down next to you.

“When will these hit?” You quiz him curiously. Tangling and playing with the strands of your hair out of a way to distract yourself from what you just did.

“It's the same principle as an edible, it’ll take a while to hit. So don’t take another one.” He mumbles inconspicuously since his face is half smushed into his soft mattress.

“Shall we smoke some weed while we wait?”

“No, dude. We’d literally die. Let’s not fuckin’ kill ourselves from severe psychosis tonight, yeah?” 

You smile at his stupid banter. It’s what made Matt so appealing to you. His dry humour alongside his ridiculous behaviour when you’re both stoned as shit is like taking a breath of fresh air. Knowing each other for almost ten years and you two still never get tired of each other. Constantly hanging out, doing stupid and reckless shit ever since you two were tweens. True best friends.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A while has passed, and the both of you are so far out of your heads. Every single time you turn to look at each other, the more distorted everything gets. You see things you don’t actually see, you hear things you don’t actually hear, you smell things you don’t actually smell. The tie dye-like swirls on Matt’s tapestries that hang proud on his walls disfigure and circle around putting you under a strict hypnosis.

“Holy shit…” Matt’s voice rattles through your cochleas, making your head sting from the blare. You move around to see him while your vision oversaturates and wiggles with no rhythm or control. 

“W-what is going on…” The bare echoes of your voice tingles your senses. The soft scent of Matt’s white musk incense blazing in the background fills the crevices of your nostrils and massages your brain, it was the only thing soothing you from the extremity of the situation.

“Matt…I’m scared…What the fuck is going on.” Abruptly, the effects on your voice quickly transitions into a thick static. The sensory overload inflicts the both of you. You feel incredibly overwhelmed and almost spiral into a state of panic.

“I’m here, I promise.” Matt mutters under his breath. His clammy hands take a hold of your wrist firmly. You look up at him to see his pupils viciously dilated while finding it hard to breathe.

“I’m so scared.” You shudder. Pure anxiety soaks you up but is squeezed back out when Matt moves your head to rest on his shoulder. He tilts his head so it lays on top of yours.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise.” Your heartbeat pounds rapidly. You don’t say or do anything both because you’re way too high as well as wanting to savour this moment since you purely assume this will never happen ever again.

Why is Matt being so soft with you? Ever since you two first met, he’s never been the type to call you these names.

“From now on. Weed n’ fuckin’ weed only.” You demand in a serious manner. Matt sighs out a laugh while he strokes your hair in reassurance. “Of course… p-princess.”

You purse your lips as a way to try and hide the excitement from Matt calling you these sudden names. A million thoughts come racing through your mind all at once. You’ve gotten both high and drunk with Matt on several occasions. Are the mushrooms that strong?

Your vision is still eradicated and infused with neon reds and pinks. You want to close your eyes but when you’re in pitch black darkness, the patterns become more prominent and it freaks you out to an extreme.

You hear Matt whisper delicately which makes your ears perk up indefinitely. You twist your neck to look up at him for his gaze to meet yours. His mouth hangs slightly open with his pupils large and his eyebags hang low across his defined cheekbones.

“l-like…you..” He sputters out. He sounds like he has no more control left in the muscles of his face any more. Jesus christ, this shit is strong. 

“...huh…” Rebound of the vowels smushed on your tongue and teeth is elevated by the effects of the drug. Both you and Matt are incredibly discombobulated. You raise yourself from underneath Matt’s figure for you to try your absolute best to attempt to understand what he just said.

Matt’s now looking up at you through the locks of hair that drape over his low and inflamed eyes.

“I really…really like you… like, ‘ver since… I-I got to know you better in 6th grade…I now have a decent excuse for why I’m telling you this... I’m fucking tripping balls.” He laughs it off as if he didn’t just confess his feelings to you off the rip right in front of you, face to face.

You just sit there gazing down at him bewildered with your mouth agape. He clenches his lips shut and frowns slightly, averting his gaze down to the bed in regret of just blurting that out.

“Matt…w-what the fuck…” Immediately after you utter this question, Matt slaps his hand over his mouth and starts to slightly curl himself up into a little ball like a shrivelled raisin. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I-I ruined the experience… I thought you felt the same way and I was thinking too quickly ahead of myself I-I’m really sorry-”

You pat both of Matt’s shoulders and force his head up to look at you.

“Matt, I-It’s okay… I promise you. I-I feel the same. I know we’re both high as fuck right now, but I know for sure t-that I’m telling the truth. I really like you, Matt.”

His body loosens underneath you in reaction to your words. Your thumb rubs softly over his defined cheekbones. The frown on his face turned upside down completely into a large smile. 

Your big and swollen pupils squint down at him. His heavy breaths, his cherry pink lips resting lazily and hanging slightly open, and his frizzy  and dishevelled hair that drapes gracefully over his droopy eyes.

Everything about him, the whole sight of him makes you soaked at your core.

Your thighs clench together in desperation and you grit down onto your bottom lip intensely. The flesh of your hand is still resting on Matt’s face. You can feel the pricklyness of his stubble on your very fingertips.

The two of you just stare at each other, admiring every little thing about one another. In a comfortable but loud silence. The effects of the drug are still sharp around the edge, jabbing and stabbing both of your 5 main senses.

You feel your body start to give in and fall forward into Matt. Your forehead clashes with his. Your large breaths blend together.

Abruptly, he tilts his head up. His lips just graze against yours. You can tell he’s desperate with his eyes full to the brim with lust and eroticism. You pull away lightly with a smirk on your face whilst Matt writhes and squirms. He tries to follow your head so he can make contact with your mouth. He really wants to kiss you.

Seeing him this vulnerable makes you melt. What once was a bad-mouthing, cocky and smug little shit who smoked with you every week was now gone. He’s now tripping on mushrooms underneath you with a throbbing semi.

You manoeuvre yourself over so both of your legs are spread on top of him. You’re in a cowgirl position, with Matt. 

His prick pulses harshly beneath your heat. The only thing stopping the contact between the two of you are your clothes. Matt’s now fully hard, to the point where his dick has developed a tent in his harem pants. 

You start to sway your hips back and forth. Matt’s head flips back fully and his mouth hangs open. His Adam's apple is fully revealed and bobs up and down marginally. His hefty breathing now transitioned into hot and rowdy moans and whimpers.

“Look at me baby, look at me while I grind on your cock.” You finally spoke, after there was nothing but whines and sobs filling the air.

“Y-yes mommy…” You sigh out a sharp laugh. Knowing your arrogant friend who’s always causing a riot with alcohol and dope is now rock hard thanks to you, moaning and whining into your ear like a little bitch fills you with an overwhelming sense of fulfilment.

“Yeah that’s right, be a good boy for me. Keep calling me mommy.” You feel as though you could do anything to him right this second. You had all of the power and control over Matt. Your teeth grit together and the smirk on your face largens.

“You make me feel so good, Mommy. Y-you’re gonna make me cum…” The words come spilling out of his mouth like calm waves of the ocean. What used to be the intense sound of his voice from the drugs now turned silky smooth from the euphoria spooling out from your sensitive nerves.

You stop rocking your hips on top of his cock. Matt looks up at you with his bottom lip concealed fully inside his mouth by his teeth. 

“Take your pants off baby, lemme make you cum properly.” You command him pompously. Immediately, he speedily grasps at his waist band and tugs it down his thighs.

His cock bounces out of the loose fabric. The tip was swollen and pink with precum dripping out thickly. The rhythm of his breath matched with the harsh trembling of blood flow to his dick. 

“Jesus Christ… and I barely did anything to you, not yet anyway.” You tease. Matt’s face jams up with impatience and knuckles his hands into his vibrant sheets.

“P-please just touch me. I really wanna cum mommy.” He pleads eagerly. His eyebrows furrowed deeply into his skin and his face splashed apricot pink. His whole body shivers. Anticipating heavily for your skin to press into his.

You reach out your hand and wrap it loosely around his large and thick cock. You slither down his shaft slowly in a jesting manner. You leer up at Matt to see him gaping down at you, panting stiffly.

Your pace on his dick starts to quicken. Your fingers clench tightly around him making him jolt up into your hand.

Matt loses all control within himself and starts to thrust up and down hastily. Practically fucking your hand. You push him down with your other palm and hold him into place. You shoot him a mean stare as he gulps down what was left of his pride.

“Don’t move.” The stern tone infused in your voice makes Matt quiver. He tugs at the collar of his shirt and pulls it up his face to conceal his severe embarrassment.

What’s happening right now tells you one thing that you never would’ve thought would be the case. Matt loves being controlled. He admires the idea of being dominated. And you are contributing to that fantasy.

The pad of your index and middle finger press onto his fleshy, rosy-red tip faintly. A choked up whine crawls out of his throat and his legs rise upwards but your weight stops them.

“M-mommy… please don't stop... I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it baby. Don’t be shy. Be a good boy for mommy and cum.” You start to go faster and more harsh on his sensitive tip. Matt’s entire body shakes and his hips buck and lock into place.

“Cumming mommy, c-cumming...”

His tip suddenly spurts out long thick strings of his load. Onto your face, your hand, your clothes, your chest, everywhere. Every single time a white rope would come spilling out of his prick, an intense shiver would shoot through his body and his shirt is now crumpled into its original place.

He gasps intimately while you sit there with his seed still dripping down your face. 

Matt’s eyes suddenly widen and he raises his entire figure in a panic to grab the box of tissues on his bedside table.

“No no, don’t worry. I got it.” You disclose to him delicately. You tug out a few sheets of tissue and wipe at his skin from the waist below.

“I’m sorry for making such a mess… I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Matt utters sorrowfully. He pulls his pants back up and you grab more tissues.

He takes hold of your wrist to take the tissues from you. He places his thumb onto your chin to position you as he folds the tissues.

“It’s fine Matt, I enjoyed it. A lot, actually.” You grin compassionately as Matt swipes at your face with the tissues.

“I think that’s the first and last time we’re ever gonna do mushrooms, though.” He snickers, crumpling the dirty tissues and chucking them into the bin lying at the side of the bed.

“Yeah, one time thing.” You rest your head on his stomach, you rise and fall with his breathing.

"Can I braid your hair?" Matt casually inquires. "I have a bunch of charms and hair ties."

You beam a smile from ear to him, your face fills up with a cherry blossom pink.

"Yeah, of course Matt."

��══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Author’s Note No.2: I think this will most definitely have a part 2. I have no complaints with making a series, if you haven’t already noticed with me always bringing up pins n’ needles. This took me a while to write because I’ve been busy with exams and social life. But I finally completed one after 2 weeks!!! Yayyy!! ‘Till next time, pooks.

༝༚༝༚, Maxine.

Taglist: @gamermattsgf @luverboychris @worldlxvlys @chrissystur @chaosisalwayscrying @bellasfavbisexual @luvmxtt @tillies33ssss @breeloveschris

[beetlejuicyy]

Losing touch | Bada Lee x reader

Bebe Gang AU

Part one • Part two

Pairing: gang member! Bada x reader

Synopsys: Picking up your girlfriend from the police station does not seem like a good date idea for you. Especially if she refuses to talk about the very things that got her in trouble with the police.

Warnings: angst, very much angst, fighting, toxic relationship, gaslighting, swearing

Note: thank you all for the support you showed for Bruises ! This is going to be a two part work so I hope you look forward for the secont part as well. As for this one, I got a bit carried away and it ended up more toxic than I planned. The next one might have less plot and more kinky smut. I'm also open to requests too so if you have anything in mind that I could write I'd love to see it!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were still in bed enjoying your coffee when your phone started ringing. You were expecting a package to arrive and were excited to see the unknown number, thinking it was related to the delivery details.

“Miss y/n?” The stern voice of a woman greeted you. You shook off the feeling that something was wrong. “This is the police station. You’ll be redirected to the caller.” Your blood froze in your veins as you heard a muffled sound through the phone.

“Y/n…”

“Bada? Is that you?” You sat up immediately, still hoping this was some kind of misunderstanding, a wrong number. Your girlfriend sighed.

“I need you to come pick me up.” She seemed incredibly calm, as if she had been through this before.

“You’ve been arrested?” You were still trying to comprehend the situation at nine thirty in the morning.

“I was framed... They are letting me go but the lawyer said it’s better for my image to have someone with a clean criminal record get me out.”

“I’m coming.”

You got dressed and left the house in a hurry, unable to think straight. Only after you got in the car and typed in the address your girlfriend gave you things started to clear out inside your mind. The police station was on the opposite side of the city, far from where both of you lived. What was she even doing there? When was she arrested? You remembered going to sleep early the previous night and her sending you a goodnight text around ten.

You turned on the engine. You hadn’t eaten a thing yet and your stomach was noisy about it. Wondering when was the last time Bada ate something, you stopped at a bakery on your way to get something for the both of you. Only when you stopped the car and got out in the police station parking lot you realized you had no idea how these things were supposed to work. All you knew was that you were worried sick.

You noticed there was a young man around your age in uniform at the front desk right by the entrance and gave him the name of your girlfriend.

“Please fill in this form.” He said as he printed some papers. While you filled in the information he called to let his colleagues know about your arrival. You finished the formalities and checked the paperwork once again to make sure you didn’t miss anything. That’s when your eyes fell on a line already completed. Drug possession. Your eyes widened in an expression impossible to conceal. The guy at the desk might have noticed it because he continued to talk to you. “What could a girl like you have to do with Bada Lee?” He hummed as he checked your papers.

“We’re… friends.” You hesitated. You didn’t feel like owing a stranger any explanation. On the contrary, you were owed some.

“She’s not a very good influence, y’know.”

“It’s written there that the charges were dropped.” As much as you felt angry at your girlfriend you couldn’t accept anyone badmouthing her. Which was ironic because Bada was indeed a bad influence.

“This time, sure.” The man agreed. “But others were not.”

You didn’t want to show how little you actually knew about your girlfriend, especially in front of the cops. However, you really wanted to know. You’ve never pestered her with questions. You always tried to be the cool girlfriend, the fun and easygoing one that she would love. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the obvious things, like the fact that she would get into fights, cancel plans or leave in the middle of your date because of a phone call. You always tried to think it was the same as dating a workaholic, like someone with a corporate job and a very bad sense of work ethic. But today in the car you realized you’ve been fooling yourself all this time. Her file was there in one of those shelves you were sure. You wanted to read it so bad. Know all the things she did and she wasn’t telling you.

“If you ever realize the kind of person she is you can always give us a call.” The guy said, giving you something that looked like a business card. Your eyes scanned it and picked it up , trying not to seem rude. It was filled with his personal information.

“Miss y/n?” Another voice called to you from behind, this time a woman. “Miss Lee is waiting for you but first I need to make sure everything is alright.” Her voice was softer and nicer than the guy at the front desk, even though she was his senior. And most importantly, she wasn’t trying to flirt with you.

You saw Bada behind her, sitting on a bench, waiting patiently. She was wearing the same shirt she had on when she send you the goodnight selfie before you went to sleep. You guessed she had spent the night at the police station. Her hair wrapped in a messy low bun. Her long legs spread out, elbows supporting her upper body as she was leaning forward, hands covering her face. She was tired. Your eyes softened as you looked at her, although you were still upset. When the lady said you were free to go you hurried to your girlfriend.

She looked up before you got close to her, her eyes puffy. You weren’t sure if the look in her eyes was simply fatigue or if she was really trying to figure out what you were thinking. She stood up hands in her pants’ pockets. There was something cold about her that you couldn’t quite explain.

“You ok?” You asked. You wanted to hug her tight but you didn’t want to make a scene in the police station.

“I’m good. Thanks for coming.” She said. You guessed the conversation would start only after having some privacy in your car.

What you didn’t know was that Bada had tried her best not to call you. She hated involving you in things like these and had a hard time talking about it. Ever since you started going out she promised herself to be the best girlfriend you could have, and that certainly didn’t include her usual pastimes. But she couldn’t simply stop one random day. Those were her friends she grew up with, her family. She had a reputation on the streets and it was a big part of her identity. But it was obvious that, at some point, these two sides of her would clash. And today seemed like that moment finally had come.

You both got to your car and decided you’ll drive her straight home so she could finally rest after a crazy night. A night that you still knew nothing about. Bada got in the passenger seat and started typing busily on her phone. You drove off, patiently waiting for her to finish. Her phone was on silent mode but you could see with the corner of your eye that she kept receiving messages.  When she was finally done, she placed the phone in her pocket and stretched her arm to turn on the music in the car. She searched for a song that she liked in your playlist – the playlist she once made for you as a gift to think about her when you were driving alone – and leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. You kept checking on her constantly as much as you could while driving. She was lost in thought, face slightly turned away from you. You tried to think she was tired, she was stressed. You kept finding excuses for her while trying to be patient, to give her time. Maybe she didn’t feel like talking.

When her phone vibrated in her pocket again you sighed. She reached out and started typing again which only made it harder to keep calm. You clenched your hand on the steering wheel. She could talk to anyone but you. Her silence was driving you mad and all the times when you let things slide for the sake of your relationship came back to you in a flash. As much as you loved her, her attitude made you feel stupid. Stupid for trusting her. Stupid for telling her everything about you while she barely talked about herself. Stupid for finding her excuses. You swerved to the left unexpectedly, finally getting a reaction out of her. You stopped the car in an almost empty parking lot and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath.

“I’m listening.” You said sternly. Maybe it wasn’t the best way of addressing things. You had let all the negative emotions build up and now they were exploding with a passive-aggressive tone and a nasty attitude that Bada would not receive well for sure. She cocked her eyebrows at you, as if you were the unreasonable one between the two of you. “What happened last night?”

“I was framed, I told you.” She took a deep breath before answering. She was trying to control her anger as much as you.

“For what?”

“Does it matter?”

“Drug possession.” You stressed the words carefully.

“And I told you I didn’t do it!” Her voice was gradually getting louder. “What’s with all these questions?”

“Do you deal drugs?”

“Should I take the bus instead?” She spat back another question as an answer. She sighed in exasperation when she tried to open the door but you had them locked.

“Do your friends deal drugs?”

“No, we’re just your friendly neighborhood  association, knitting sweaters and planting flowers.” She answered sarcastically and you couldn’t help but slam your fist against the door in frustration. Bada’s breath got stuck in her throat for a moment. She never saw you angry before. “I told you I didn’t fucking do it.” She said again.

“Not now. How about other times?” You said and, seeing that she was avoiding to answer, you continued. “You said you needed someone with a clean record to pick you up. Does that mean I’m the only person you know who doesn’t have problems with the police?” You raised your eyebrows in expectation. “Lusher? Tatter? Kyma?” You asked in disbelief as the expression on her face provided all the answers you needed. Those were the sweetest girls you met, some of her nicest friends and you had a hard time believing it.

“Kyma only has minor offences.” She muttered under her breath, knowing it wasn’t changing anything.

“What about you? What in the world are you doing whenever you’re not answering messages for hours? When you cancel things out of the blue? When someone calls you and you don’t even bother to come up with a lame excuse for leaving me behind?” Everything was coming back to you. Every moment you thought your relationship was more important than knowing everything. Every time you would bite your tongue just to give her space at the expense of your feelings.

“Stop acting like a controlling wife!” She snapped at you. You were both looking each other directly in the eye, the tension in the car almost be visible.

“I wouldn’t if you would just talk to me!” You almost cried out and it seemed like you lost the staring battle because you put a hand over your eyes, feeling your head heavy. She was still looking down at you, the look in her eyes softening just a little. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.” You said. You didn’t see it because you weren’t looking at her, but your words hurt her deeply. “The only thing I know about you is that you like to dance.”

“That’s a very important thing about me.” She replied coyly.

“Why do I have to find out stuff about you from the police, Bada?” She clicked her tongue and looked away, annoyed. She loved the way her name sounded out of your pretty mouth but not this time.

“Just because that asshole was wearing a fancy uniform doesn’t mean he’s a good guy, you know.” Her tone was rather pathetic and it annoyed you even more.

“See?!” You yelled. “You never answer anything I ask you! Maybe I really should have asked more about you at the station.”

“Then call that fucker!” She yelled back and reached out to you. For a moment you forgot to breathe. Her slim fingers got the business card out of your pocket. She crumbed it in her fist. “I bet he’d love to talk shit about me while trying to get between your legs.”

It was too much. Your heart was beating rapidly. The air you were breathing didn’t seem to be enough. Her last words hurt you so much that you didn’t even think when you did it. Your hand just moved on her own ready to slap her. She caught you quickly by the wrist, holding your hand just inches away from her cheek. She leaned over you, looking right through your eyes directly into your soul. Your wrist was still in her hand. It didn’t hurt. Maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the need to fight back.

“I wouldn’t do that.” She breathed out, face inches from yours. You let out a deep breath, not being able to hold her gaze. Your eyes fell down to her lips and you bit yours instead, trying to resist the urge to kiss her.

She pulled back releasing your hand, her back against the door, one leg crossed on the seat above the other. She covered her face with both her hands, groaning in frustration.

“I knew I shouldn’t have called you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You felt terrible. You leaned back in your seat, looking at the steering wheel absentmindedly. Your breathing was finally back to normal after several minutes of silence, as both of you reflected on your words and actions. Bada’s hands had now fallen under her eyes and gradually away from her face. Her thumb was brushing against her lower lip as her phone started vibrating again. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see or hear anything. She looked at the screen for a few moments before she decided to decline the call.

“I’ll drive you home.” You mumbled quietly, your voice almost cracking. She only nodded, sitting back in her seat and pulling at the seat belt. The rest of the drive was quiet. You only paid attention to the road ahead, which was already a lot of effort for your clouded mind. Bada would look at you from time, you could see it, but she wouldn’t say a thing. Thinking it would help you focus easier on driving, you turned the music back on. The song that stopped when you turned off the engine in the parking lot started playing again. The song she chose, a stupid cheesy song she would sing to you sometimes. You turned it off, as it did more damage than good to you.

You stopped the car in front of her apartment building after twenty minutes of silence. You didn’t dare to look at her. You didn’t dare to look at your own reflection in her eyes.

“Let’s go inside.” She said in a gentle voice that sounded nothing like before. You were tempted, very tempted to do so. But you knew that if you did, that fight would have been for nothing. You knew she could fool you again with a few kisses.

“You should rest.” You answered. She sighed. She waited for you to look at her, make any gesture in her direction, but you never did. She leaned forward, placing a goodbye kiss on your hair like she would after every date. You closed your eyes, feeling tears clouding your vision. She got out of the car and you looked after her only by the time she had her back to you. You stood there in silence, feeling like the loneliest person in the world. You saw her enter the building, then saw her again by the bedroom window after she got to her apartment. You knew she saw you too. The pastries you had bought on your way to the police station were cold and untouched on the backseat.

[yutaholic]

the show must go on (M)

PAIRING: Haechan (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

WARNINGS: strong language; brief mentions of alcohol and drug abuse; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 7.9k words; this is part three of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Seattle, 1991

We met in detention. Eighth grade. Not to be cliché, but I knew Lee Haechan was trouble when he walked in.

Takes one to know one.

What I didn’t know was the role he would come to play in my life. I doubt many people meet their soulmate in middle school. I was pretty lucky in that.

The two of us practically lived in detention that entire year. Ninth grade was a little better; we just hung out behind the school instead of inside it. A silly pair of dumb kids wearing matching leather jackets and passing a cigarette back and forth, coughing up smoke and thinking it made us cool.

We thought we had it all figured out. But only Haechan turned out to be right.

He was the one that started the band. Haechan threw us all together and made music out of our chaos and trauma. He was the glue and without him, we would fall apart.

You clambered quietly into the passenger seat and whispered, “They’re asleep.”

Haechan was behind the wheel, but the van was parked on a grassy knoll just off the main highway. “Finally, some fucking peace and quiet,” he mumbled, sitting in a cloud of smoke that poured from his lips. The thick scent of marijuana filled the van from stem to stern.

You followed your best friend’s gaze. His eyes were firmly planted out the window at the black curtain of nightfall painted with billions of little lights. “The sky looks so pretty,” you said in awe.

“I know. It’s crazy seeing stars this bright.”

There was a tiny lull of silence. You were thinking. It wasn’t often you got to be alone with Haechan lately and it was making you crazy - not getting to confide in your best friend.

“I let Mark raw me,” you blurted out.

Haechan snorted. “I heard, but clearly your birth control did its job.”

“I snorted cocaine with Jeno… and fucked him in a dressing room.”

Your best friend looked at you, arching a brow. “So?” Doing crazy shit with Jeno wasn’t new, to be fair.

“What the hell am I doing?”

“What you do best - loving everyone except yourself.”

You frowned. Nail hitting the head every time, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t do that,” you said in a small voice.

Haechan smirked and put the joint to his lips, taking another long drag. “You know me better than to think I’m going to be your conscience and scold you,” he said a moment later. “It makes sense you’re trying to get in as many rounds of fun before the summer ends.”

The summer was winding down. August was half over.

I didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t. Because I knew in my heart when we went home, we would go our separate ways. Forever.

There would be nothing holding us together anymore.

“Haechan?”

“Yes, my love?”

You fought back tears as you asked, “What are we going to do when it’s all over?”

Haechan slapped on a playful grin for your sake and said, “We’re going to get scouted at a concert and get a huge record deal and I’ll eat you out over a bed of hundred dollar bills.”

You snorted. “God, that would be a dream.” You quickly sobered. “What’s the reality?”

Your best friend’s grin melted away and his voice turned to frost. “Go home. Find a minimum wage job. And try not to turn into raging alcoholics like our parents.”

“I thought so,” you sighed, hanging your head.

Haechan reached over and rubbed your arm. “Save the major depressive episode for back home. Let’s just enjoy these last few days.”

“I don’t want to give up,” you said, meeting his eyes again. The fire inside you lit itself with resolve. No matter how small it was. “I want something more for us in life.”

“I know you do, baby,” Haechan crooned, touching your cheek affectionately. “But some things are just out of our control.”

You blinked with the urge to cry. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Regardless of his gentle tone, Haechan’s words sounded final. You slipped out of the seat and to the floor to lay your head on Haechan’s thigh, closing your eyes as he stroked your hair.

After a moment, Haechan whispered, “I’ll never forget you for as long as I live. No matter what happens. I hope you know that.”

The tears slipped down your face as you smiled and said, “I love you too.”

Haechan’s lips twitched. He wanted so badly to not let it bother him, but he couldn’t. He knew damn well when the summer ended and the band came up empty, there would be a permanent wedge of broken hearts and crushed dreams between you.

So, so lonely. That was Haechan’s biggest fear. Losing his best friends would destroy him beyond repair. He would go through life jaded and bitter, like his parents.

Maybe it really was unavoidable. Fighting fate sounded great in songs, but reality wasn’t kind. He knew that better than anyone.

The next morning, you woke in the bed with Jeno’s arm tucked around your waist, his body molded to yours keeping you warm. There was no telling which boy scooped you off the floor and put you in bed, but your money was on Mark. He was having a hard time looking at you and Haechan was mysteriously quiet.

But you knew why.

Tension had settled over the van, the worst of the worst. After the show in Seattle, there were no more gigs to be played. Now, the long drive home would begin, shadowed by defeat and failure.

You resorted to doing what you always did; trying to alleviate the pressure and raise everyone’s spirits. Once the boys were up and actually keeping their eyes open, you had Jeno drive to the nearby state park.

As he did, you drifted between them. They were like strangers, devoid of energy and hope. Mark hadn’t touched his guitar since the final gig. The gentle strumming of his acoustic and the beauty of his softly whispered singing didn’t fill the van anymore, to your dismay.

Haechan curled up in the bed and didn’t say a word. Jeno drove silently, smoking one cigarette after another and blowing the smoke out the window. You started with him, running your hand over his shoulder as he held the wheel. Jeno glanced at you briefly, offering a weak smile that even he couldn’t keep. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

You went to Mark next and curled up next to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly. Mark was a little surprised, seeing as how the two of you had been working hard to keep your hands off each other, but was over the moon to have you in his arms again. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back.

“Won’t you play a little something?” you asked gently.

Mark shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, closing your eyes to fight the tears.

Finally, you went to Haechan and sat on the mattress next to him. He just looked at you, his stare vacant and blank. You brushed his long hair from his face and leaned in to trace a few kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, just to see if you could spark a reaction.

Haechan pushed you ever so slightly and said, “That’s not going to work this time.”

You frowned. And gave up. The three were inconsolable and it broke your heart.

Sidling over to the cabinet, you found your notebook and began flipping pages, going to where you’d left off. Your brows stitched when you didn’t find it and that was when you noticed the torn remains of paper in the metal spiral.

“Okay. Which one of you ripped the page out?”

Mark met your eyes and said, “Don’t look at me.”

You called, “Jeno?”

“You know I wouldn’t touch your shit,” he replied calmly.

Leaving you to turn to Haechan, his eyes closed. “Haechan?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your memoir,” he said, hissing your name.

That made you flinch. You understood his anger, but not the vitriol toward your story. Your eyes fell to the notebook and the missing page, and your hands began to shake.

You threw the notebook at the cabinet and it landed in a pitiful heap. Tensing with frustration, you bent your legs, wrapped your arms around your knees, and hid your face, crying as quietly as you could.

Mark moved slowly, grazing against you to pick up the notebook and tuck it back into its place neatly, but he didn’t have the courage to comfort you. Too scared he would make it worse.

It was Haechan that slipped to the floor and enveloped you in his arms, cradling your head to his chest and dabbing at your cheeks with his sleeve.

When Jeno pulled into the park, you breathed in relief. The van was too stifling, suffocating you in all its misery. You hopped out of the van without a word and started marching for the scenic overlook advertised on a giant sign like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

One-by-one, your bandmates whined and huffed, but inevitably followed. They could wallow in their own disappointment, but they couldn’t stand seeing it hit you.

That’s how the four of you came to sit at a lone picnic table, silently staring at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves ebb and flow in all its unwavering glory.

The tears had dried on your face. Breathing in the sweet, salty air grounded you again, clearing your lungs and your head.

You were the one to finally break the silence. “I need to come clean about something.”

“Go ahead,” Jeno replied, yawning as he still struggled to shake off sleep.

Wringing your hands in your lap, you began, “I’ve been mailing pieces of the memoir to Cassie.”

“That explains the trips to the post office,” Mark said offhandedly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be glib or not.

“And?” Jeno pressed.

You took a breath. “She submitted it to a publisher for their… consideration, I guess it’s called.”

Well, that woke everyone up.

“Are you serious?” Haechan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” You were befuddled by the reaction, glancing around at them. All three of your boys were sporting similar looks of shock. “You knew I was writing a memoir.”

“We knew you were scribbling in a notebook to toss in a bin and find it again twenty years later and laugh at all the dumb shit we did…” Haechan’s tone of disdain was not lost on you.

Jeno’s gawking increased. “Babe, are you insane?”

You felt small on that picnic table between them, utterly confused, and snapped, “No. I’m trying to get us out of this hell!”

Grimacing, Mark asked pointedly, “You wrote about all the very illegal shit you’ve been doing?”

Oh. That’s why they were freaked out. Underage drinking. Marijuana. Cocaine. All very punishable offenses. You shrugged and plastered on your cutest, most innocent smile. “A little?”

“Fuck,” Jeno swore, sliding off the bench to his feet and running a hand through his hair.

Haechan shook his head and chuckled. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

You rubbed your arms awkwardly.

I was so determined to make it work. It was tunnel vision, so intense I could see nothing else.

“What did the publisher say?” Mark asked, touching your shoulder in comfort. The awkwardness was killing him too.

“I don’t know,” you said, leaning into him a little, desperate for warmth. “I call Cassie at every stop to check on the dogs and she promised to update me on any replies from the publisher.”

Jeno looked to Haechan. “Can they report us to the cops?”

Haechan waved him away, looking more amused the longer he thought about it. “No. She can just say it’s all fiction. Very embellished fiction.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Good thinking.”

You almost laughed. Haechan could lie his way out of almost anything. In this case, it would be in your favor. You glanced around at your boys again. “So…, is everyone mad at me or are we good?”

“We’re good,” Haechan said, patting your head. “For now.”

“Fuck.” Mark sounded exhausted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle losing our music career, but being notorious in a fucking book.”

It was your turn to comfort him, running your hand across his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers.

Jeno kicked at a pinecone, watching it skitter across the rocks. “We’d be the fucking losers just known for banging bitches at every stop,” he sneered. Then, the drummer had a thought and raised his brows. “Actually, whatever gets us paid, I don’t really care.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Mark asked curiously. “You technically wrote the book, but it’s about all of us.”

You made a face. “It’s our story. Of course I’d split everything fairly with you guys.”

Haechan smiled at you ever so faintly.

“I can’t believe our story’s almost over,” Jeno mumbled bitterly.

You perked up. This was as good a time as any. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

You got up and spun on your heels, so you could face them all at once. “I was thinking…,” you said, shifting your weight. “We could get a place together and we’d work odd jobs to pay the bills, but we would play gigs here and there. Whatever we could get.”

Jeno simpered. You weren’t clinging to the band. You just didn’t want to let go of them.

“We’d be scraping by a living forever,” Mark pointed out.

“But we’d be doing what we love,” you argued.

“Try loving something that never loves you back,” Haechan said harshly. “You become bitter and miserable. Just like my parents. And yours.”

You scanned their faces. Each had the tiniest bit of hope in their eyes, but their expressions were firmly rooted in defeat. “You guys just want to go home after everything we did this summer and…,” you trailed, a tremble creeping into your voice. “Pretend like it never happened?”

Jeno softened. “Of course it happened. We’ll always look back and remember this as the best days of our lives.” He talked to you like he was soothing a fussy baby. “But best days don’t last. That’s why you look back on them.”

Your eyes burned. More tears would come any moment now and you weren’t ashamed of them. “I just don’t understand why you’re all giving up. Why am I the only one trying to keep us together?”

“Because you’re the dreamer,” Mark sighed.

Haechan snapped, “Stop being so gentle with her,” and Jeno was quick to warn, “Don’t be a dick.”

Your best friend jumped down from the picnic table and approached you. You knew by his tone and his gait that he was about to dress you down and you readied yourself for the blow.

“This is how it’s going to go,” Haechan started, pointing at the guitarist. “Mark’s parents will blow their entire retirement savings to send him to a good college to recover their reputation. And they will never let him date someone like you.”

You flinched.

“Fuck you,” Mark hissed, every muscle in his body tensing for a fight.

Haechan continued, “Jeno won’t be able to hold down a job. He’ll be a regular customer in rehab, then jail.”

Jeno held up his middle finger. “Go to hell.”

Haechan set his eyes on you and a chill ran down your spine. “And you,” Haechan said through clenched jaws. “You’ll meet some guy you can barely stand, but he’ll keep a nice roof over your head. He’ll put a couple babies in you after some miserable missionary and your entire personality will center around the screaming kids you never wanted. Just like your mom.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins. Planting both hands on Haechan’s chest, you shoved him back and screamed, “You son of a bitch, I hate you!”

Jeno was suddenly caught in a very precarious position. As you stomped off, his first instinct was to go after you, but in the next second, Mark was off the table and charging toward Haechan. So, Jeno had to decide whose life was in the most imminent danger.

And he correctly chose Haechan.

Mark grabbed Haechan by the collar with both hands and crowded into his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up,” he roared, but Haechan didn’t fight back.

He was numb. His face was blank, his eyes cold.

Jeno did his best to wedge himself between them, but he was too defeated. All the thunder was gone from him. “Why did you do that to her?” he asked sadly.

“She has to let go of us,” Haechan replied, looking from Jeno to Mark. “Make her hate you. It’s the only way.”

Mark shook his head in dissent, clenching his fists even tighter in Haechan’s shirt.

You put plenty of distance between yourself and the boys, and the moment you found a solitary bench between trees, you collapsed onto it, buried your face in your hands, and wept.

We have no secrets, Haechan and I. He knows the darkest depths of my soul, and I know his.

I never thought he’d use that as a weapon, but I should have known.

He was the only one that dreamed bigger and harder than me. With it all ending, his heart was dying and pain makes us do horrible things. Especially to the ones we love most.

Because he knew I would still love him anyway. No matter how much he broke me.

Time lost all meaning as you cried on that bench. It wasn’t just Haechan’s words that crushed you, it was the cruel reality of life. You didn’t want to live without your boys. The four of you were too interwoven and connected. Being parted from them would be like tearing at the fabric of who you were.

You were expected to walk around with a gaping hole in your chest forever?

Sure. Most people did. It would account for all the hate and anger in the world.

“My love?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice, roughly wiped your wet cheeks, and growled, “Go away, Haechan. I swear to god, I will slap the shit out of you.”

Haechan dragged his feet over to you and said, “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

You refused to look at him as he sat beside you. Your eyes focused on the ocean.

We had the same biggest fear. Becoming our parents. As time went on, the more it seemed inevitable. A cycle that couldn’t be broken. We were fools to think we could be different.

That’s what I was hanging onto. I had to avoid that fate at all costs. Part of me thought that as long as I had my boys, they could save me from it.

“How could you say my worst nightmare so casually like that?” You were still shaking.

Haechan hung his head. “I was trying to hurt you.”

You scoffed, deadpanning, “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like all the air was sapped from his lungs. When you didn’t respond, Haechan said, “Look at me. Please.”

“No.”

Your best friend sighed loudly and slouched into the bench, resting his head on the back. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, watching the world pass you by.

“You’ll prove me wrong,” Haechan said tenderly. “You will be the one that breaks the cycle. The rest of us will just watch.”

Still, you said nothing. You hated him.

Because Haechan always ended up being right. It was a gift and a curse.

Mark and Jeno came looking. The latter was the only one brave enough to approach you, holding out his hand without a word. You peered up at him and let your hand slip into his, and Jeno led you away.

Haechan blinked and the tears escaped. He held them back until you left, refusing to cry in front of you. Keeping his hands in his lap, Haechan didn’t bother to dry his cheeks.

Mark blew out a pained breath. “What do we do?”

“You know what you have to do,” Haechan said, cutting his eyes at Mark. “If you don’t stand up to your parents, they’ll make you give her up.”

“I won’t,” Mark started.

“They will wear you down. You know they will. She’s not who they have in mind for their perfect boy. They hate her.”

Mark nodded.

“If you grow a spine, the two of you can at least live happily ever after,” Haechan joked, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

“What about you and Jeno?”

Haechan stood. “It is what it is.”

The cloud in the van darkened. Jeno and Mark were miserable, and predictably stoic about it. Neither knew what to do with you. As it turned out, you were the rock, not Jeno.

Curled up in the bed with your back to them, you closed your eyes, but had no intention of sleeping. You would just lay there and wait for something to break or change. You’d done the heavy lifting so far. Now it was their turn.

Haechan couldn’t take the silence anymore. He trudged out of the van and slammed the door behind him.

You didn’t bat an eye. At this point, you didn’t have the energy to ask or care.

That wasn’t true. I always cared. Nothing could ever make me stop caring. We are all cursed and that was mine.

When the doors wheeled open, Haechan was sweaty and disheveled. You wondered how much time had passed as he sat on the mattress beside you. “Come with me,” your best friend said, holding out his hand.

You smarted, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll drag you.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him an obstinate glare, but your curiosity was piqued. The hell had he been doing that got him so shiny with sweat? It didn’t take him that long to jerk off.

A defeated sigh left your lips. He was still your best friend, even if you hated his guts at the moment.

After batting his hand away, you got up and followed Haechan outside, rolling your eyes at the looks Mark and Jeno were sporting.

Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as Haechan led you into the trees, not too far from the van. When you saw what he was bringing you to, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

A camping tent was set up; the one Haechan had insisted on strapping on top of the van in case he found a nice spot. And it seemed he found one.

This was a habit of ours. When the yelling at my house got to be too much, when I couldn’t block it with my locked door or the blankets over my head, I would sneak out the window.

My parents didn’t notice. Hard to notice if you don’t care. Haechan would always be waiting to run off with me to the park. There were safe, secluded areas to set the tent up without fear of being interrupted.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten laid in that pathetic little tent. I’d probably mourn the damn thing when it finally fell apart.

Just as I mourned my relationships.

“How about a night not sleeping in the van?” Haechan asked, unzipping the front flap and holding it open for you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you barked, narrowing your eyes at him and crawling inside.

Haechan bit his tongue. Any witty remarks would not be appreciated at the moment.

But given Haechan was allergic to quiet, he wasn’t going to keep enabling your cold shoulder for much longer. Watching you lay on your back and make yourself comfortable over the sleeping bags, Haechan sidled up next to you as close as humanly possible.

“I’m still mad,” you huffed.

“I know.”

Well, with that out of the way, you relaxed. He knew you were upset. Now the groveling could begin.

Haechan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at you and how intensely you were ignoring him. He reached over and stroked your cheek tenderly, and said, “I love you. It’s gonna hurt so much when you leave me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart clenching in your chest. “Then why are you trying to make me leave?”

“To give myself some control over the pain. Maybe.”

You turned your head and looked at him. His hair had grown longer over the summer, its natural jet black. It was cute; falling into his eyes, hiding them behind fluffy strands. You brushed some back with your fingertips so he couldn’t hide. Then you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Haechan smiled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. “You’re my best friend. I’ll be next to you in a nursing home.”

“Will you still kiss me if I have no teeth?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Heck yes. That would be hilarious.”

Both of you laughed at the sudden mental image of you and Haechan as two little old people sucking each other’s faces.

The rest of the world melted away. Your summer wasn’t coming to an end. It was just another night spent from home inside Haechan’s tent. If you didn’t think too hard, you could convince yourself nothing had changed.

Nothing was over.

You talked for ages, about everything. Like always. The light beyond the tent died and everything went dark, prompting Haechan to light a familiar lantern beside the sleeping bags. Soon, the ambience shifted from birds chirping to crickets singing.

When the atmosphere changed, so did the gravity inside the tent.

He was good at talking you away from the edge. Haechan made you laugh hard enough you forgot your anger and sadness, and he started stealing kisses between words. His hand occasionally traced patterns on the bit of your exposed stomach until it slipped under your shirt and got comfortable palming your breast. That’s when you began initiating kisses and running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing overtook conversation. You were immune to all the pain when his lips were on yours and you wanted more, wanted to overdose on the feeling until your heart was made of stone.

Haechan was my family. He was the only home I’d ever known, the only person who loved me unconditionally like my parents were supposed to. Soul mates aren’t always romantic. Maybe they’re just the person that loves you despite everything.

There was a little hitch in his breath as Haechan deepened the kiss, his arms heavy around you. He needed it too, needed to feel loved again before it was all over.

Your lashes fluttered as Haechan settled on top of you, abandoning your lips to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands were on his shoulders, having been pulling him to you impatiently. His leg wedged between your thighs, pressing against your sex.

Haechan tugged at your clothes, undressing you while he bruised the base of your neck with his lips and teeth. When you yanked off his clothes and finally felt his naked body against yours, you moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers in his long hair.

It was so familiar and comforting. With Haechan, everything was okay. Nothing could hurt me here.

He seemed in no rush to touch you where you really wanted him to. Typical. Haechan always dragged things out and made it last. He knew you had all the time in the world and was in no hurry to plow through it. Pun intended.

Haechan sucked your nipple into his mouth and pinched the other with his fingers. You bit your lip and squirmed under him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. You hooked your legs on his hips and flexed, bringing him flush against you for good measure.

You flipped your positions and Haechan let you, holding your waist as you rolled onto him, straddling his lap. He kissed you even deeper, running his hands up and down your back while you cradled his face and tried to snatch all the air from his lungs.

Haechan broke from the kiss to ask playfully, “Have you been writing about sex in the book?”

You were breathing heavily, flushed and dazed from his kisses. “Yeah,” you rasped, running your hand through your hair to get it out of your face.

Haechan tugged you back down and trailed kisses over your jaw before whispering in your ear, “I need to give you some new material.”

“As if you haven’t given me plenty already.”

“I have competition,” he retorted, brushing his hands to your breasts. “Jeno is a slut with a dragon dick. You have a fat crush on Mark and he railed the shit out of you.”

You snickered. “Who are you then?”

Haechan steered you up and shuffled down until his arms were around your thighs and his mouth was inches from your sex, and purred, “I’ll always be the one that gave you your first nut.”

Though you were about to laugh at that, the next sound out of your mouth was a whimper as Haechan tongued at your folds. You were mindful not to put too much of your weight on him, but his hands on your hips said otherwise, bringing you down to meet his lips.

The sight of his face buried in your pussy, between your thighs, was so arousing you felt your walls clench on nothing.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Reaching for his hands on your hips, you held on tight and joked breathlessly, “The book will give us more groupies than the band ever did.”

Haechan stopped sucking on your clit long enough to retort, “God, I hope so.”

An involuntary shudder shot through you when he latched back onto your bundle of nerves. You squeezed his hands even tighter, eyes winching closed. Another moan tumbled off your tongue. Haechan didn’t play when he was sucking you dry.

It was probably one of the few things in life he took seriously.

“Mm,” you hummed, trembling when his tongue swirled around your entrance before returning to your clit. “So good, baby.”

Haechan made a noise against your cunt. “You know, you only call me baby when I’m getting you off.”

“Do I?”

“I like it.”

“I like when you touch me,” you said in barely a whisper, biting your lip lest you go into juicy detail.

Haechan would have loved that.

You were so far gone already. Your hands found his hair, your hips bucking against his face. Little nothings mingled with your moans. Haechan kneaded your hips, but as you got closer, he reached up to grab and squeeze your breasts instead.

It felt so good you felt guilty that you weren’t touching him. Releasing his hair, you lilted back and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, feeling it twitch the moment your fingers made contact.

Haechan broke away from your pussy and scolded, “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Only think about yourself right now. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed and let Haechan guide your hands back into his hair, and he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning to do as he said. Your body tensed when he lapped at your clit again and you decided to obey. You would be selfish.

Haechan smirked when you arched away from him, propping yourself over him on your arms and riding his face. He reeled a hand back and slapped your ass, the best way he knew how to convey to you that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He lapped at the arousal between your folds, his tongue teasing your bundle of nerves again. Haechan knew that was your weak spot, where you were most sensitive. If he played his cards right, he could have you screaming for mercy from the overstimulation.

“Right there,” you panted, voice pitching higher. "I'm close."

For once in his life, Haechan said nothing. He ate you out like a man starved, suddenly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. He sucked on you until your legs shook and you whimpered his name.

And when orgasm hit, you went higher than where the cocaine took you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body shuddered, and you chanted, “Fuck,” like a mantra.

Haechan kept going until you pushed frantically at his head.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” you begged, fisting his hair and finally earning yourself a reprieve.

Haechan chuckled, slipping his arms under your legs and tossing you to the side. You gladly rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, waiting to come back to your senses.

You felt his hand smoothing its way up your thigh before cupping your sex, feeling all the slick he’d gotten out of you and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath. His fingers prodded into your pulsing pussy, hooking at your sweet spot, and you writhed, sensitive.

“Put a condom on,” you told him hurriedly, still trying to catch your breath.

As you came down from the high, Haechan crawled over to the other side of the tent and returned with a packet, tearing it open with his teeth. You watched him fit the condom on his hard cock and you spread your legs invitingly when he moved between your legs, grasping your knees and pushing them toward your chest, bending you in half.

You rested your hands on his hips and drew him toward you when he slipped his cock into your entrance and stroked in slow. “Mm, baby, you’re so good,” you mewled dramatically. “The biggest ever.”

Haechan, whose eyes had been on his cock sinking into your tight cunt, tossed his long hair out of his eyes and said, “Fuck you,” with a tiny snort.

You grinned and sank your fingers deeper into the flesh of his hips, tugging him toward you in tandem with his movements. He loved when you left scratches and bruises in his skin. A reminder of you he got to carry around with him for days after.

“Kiss me,” Haechan whispered, rocking into you harder.

Without missing a beat, you lifted your head to meet his lips, but his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the ground. A noise of frustration left you, because you couldn’t close the rest of the distance with him holding you down.

Nipping at your lips, he taunted, “What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer, you moaned as his cock bottomed out in you again. Your face tensed with pleasure, every thrust making your toes curl. You were still raw from orgasm and his cock hitting you right made a shudder race through you.

Haechan went still. When you peered up at him in confusion, he smirked and said, “Fuck me.”

You hooked your thighs higher up his hips and started grinding into him. Haechan looked down to watch you bouncing on his dick, sucking in a breath when your pace grew more hurried and desperate.

“Please move,” you whined, eyes closed. Sweat formed at your back with the effort, your body burning.

“You’re doing fine without me.”

“I’m never okay without you,” you said breathlessly, out of your mind with lust and emotions. The two were colliding.

Haechan draped over you, slipping his fingers into your hair, and fucked into you at a ruthless pace for that, making you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

The last thing you wanted was his name echoing through the woods. You would never live it down.

“Oh god. Oh fuck.” You clawed at his back, trying to find purchase.

Haechan gathered you in his arms and you sat up face-to-face, straddling his lap. Haechan kissed at your neck, crushing you in his arms. You rode him, his hips matching your rhythm.

“Come for me,” Haechan purred in your ear, saying your name silkily. “Again.”

It wasn’t fair that he could snap his fingers and your body would answer. You were so close and had been together for so long, your skin knew his touch. Your heart gave in to his every desire and whim.

Ecstasy spilled over and a moan caught in your throat.

Haechan held you even tighter as you came, biting his lip as he felt you clamp down on his cock, holding his breath to stave off his own orgasm until you sighed his name and slumped against him.

You buried your face in his shoulder and whimpered as his thrusts turned ragged, his groans pitching higher until he released into the condom. You rubbed his back and kissed his neck while he came down, lowering you to the floor gently and landing at your side.

The two of you breathed heavily. Sex broke something in you both that you needed. It felt final.

Like it was the last time.

Haechan discarded the condom and crawled back to you, getting a blanket out from one of the sleeping bags to drape over your bodies. You nestled closer to him, ready to doze off in his arms. Haechan settled a hand on your thigh, the other behind his head. Your eyes fluttered closed as his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“I’ll never stop fighting,” you whispered with resolve. “And you shouldn’t either.”

He said nothing, but pressed a kiss to your temple.

The next day, the van was on its way home. You sat in the passenger seat as Jeno drove, just as you had when summer - and the trip - started.

When Jeno parked at a rest area, you ventured inside to look for a payphone.

Haechan leaned back against the van, arms folded.

Mark wandered over to him, asking in a soft voice, “How is she?”

“Ask her yourself,” Haechan retorted.

Mark frowned. “You know her better than anyone.”

Haechan’s eyes darkened as he said, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jeno, who had been hovering close by, smirked at the exchange and murmured, “Says the one person actually capable of hurting her.”

Haechan shot him a glare. “She loves Mark more than she ever loved us,” he started.

Jeno was quick to cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“Maybe she’s right about us,” Mark spoke up, glancing between them. “Maybe we should stay together and try to make it work.”

Haechan let his head fall back and groaned. “Pussy power strikes again.”

“Are you done?” Mark snapped. “You are the biggest hypocrite, you know. You’re hoping and praying she’s right. That she makes something happen. You’re trying so hard to look like you don’t care, but you don’t want to lose us.”

Tears filled Haechan’s eyes. His lips pursed.

Jeno cocked his head. “We know that, Mark,” he crooned cutely. “Our Donghyuck cares the most. That’s why he tries so hard to hide it.”

Haechan quickly wiped his cheeks. The tears had escaped too fast. After a pause, getting himself together, Haechan said, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”

“We know that too.” Jeno reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

The two looked at Mark expectantly. His anger faded and he huffed a sigh.

Your voice broke the moment. “Guys!”

“What?” Jeno barked, turning to see you racing across the parking lot toward them.

You could hardly breathe, panting like you’d run a marathon. “They want to publish the book!”

All three of them gaped in perfect sync.

“Are you fucking serious?” Haechan wheezed.

“Yeah,” you said in disbelief, chuckling to yourself. “They want me to keep sending in chapters and they’ll assign me an editor to help organize everything. And then I’ll have to fill in the gaps, but… it’s gonna be a book. An actual book!”

In the next second, you were the meat in a boy sandwich and you couldn't have been happier about it.

Once everything calmed down, Mark shook his head and exclaimed, “This is insane!”

Haechan took your face in his hands and planted a big kiss on your lips with a loud, “Mwah!” Which made Jeno whine, “I was gonna kiss her and I can’t now!”

“I’ll kiss you too,” Haechan taunted, wagging his tongue and reaching for Jeno, making the drummer turn on his heels and run for his life.

You giggled as Haechan chased after him and Mark took the opportunity to wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck, enveloping you in a hug. You held him tightly and closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“You did it,” Mark whispered, saying your name in reverence. “You made this summer count for something.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Haechan and Jeno traipsed back over, pushing and shoving each other with big grins on their faces.

With the celebration winding down, you looked at your boys one-by-one and said, “There’s a couple of conditions.”

Jeno grumbled. Haechan arched a brow.

“I won’t write the last chapters and send them in until you get clean,” you said, pointing at Jeno.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.” You planted your feet and stared him down. “You think I’m going to risk this book being a hit and us getting a huge payday just for you to blow it all on blow?”

Jeno sulked.

“It’s a fair condition,” Haechan said lightly.

“I know it is!”

You waited patiently.

“I’m not an addict,” Jeno insisted. “I am a casual user.”

“Then you can casually stop,” you smarted.

He made a face. After a tiny lull, Jeno handed you the bag from his back pocket and you didn’t hesitate to cram it into your own. Its next destination was the nearest toilet.

You turned to Mark. “There’s a condition for you too.”

Mark grimaced nervously. “I’m listening.”

“You have to do what you want with your own life. Not what your parents want.”

Mark visibly relaxed. His eyes went soft. Something happy and content washed over him. “But I don’t know what I want.”

You shrugged. “You have time to figure it out. Change your mind as many times as it takes until you find what makes you happy.”

“Okay,” said Mark, smiling.

Finally, you turned to Haechan. “And you.”

He tilted his head and puckered up his lips.

“You’re not your father, Haechan.”

“You sure? I was pretty quick to cut you down.”

You scoffed. “Last I checked, I’m still standing. Bitch.”

Haechan chuckled.

“She’s right,” Jeno said, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to press a kiss to your cheek. “We shouldn’t give up on the band already.”

“The book could make some people check us out,” Mark added, optimistic again.

All eyes were on Haechan. He smiled bashfully and said, “And if it doesn’t - if it all fails - at least we’ll know we tried.”

“No regrets,” you finished with a nod.

Haechan suddenly reached into his pocket and handed you a balled-up page.

The missing chapter of your memoir.

You gaped when you realized what it was. “I should have known you took it.”

“I couldn’t handle someone talking so highly about me,” he said under his breath.

“Oh. Only you’re allowed to speak highly of yourself?”

Mark and Jeno laughed.

Haechan did too. Then he sobered and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Haechan, you started the band. Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

“We met in detention in eighth grade,” you reminded him, to which Haechan bobbed his head. “You noticed Jeno drumming his hands. You said you saw Mark playing acoustic by himself during lunch. And you heard me singing under the bleachers when I skipped gym.”

“I forgot all that,” Haechan mumbled, his eyes twinkling like they shone with stars. “Damn, I really gotta quit drinking.”

Mark moved to your free side and said, “Yeah, dude. We’re all here because of you.”

Haechan looked at his three best friends, his family, smiling at him, and it almost broke him on the spot. He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Jeno laughed loudly. “I’ll be damned. All you’ve ever wanted is to be the center of attention and now that you’ve got it, you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Yep,” Haechan said with a sheepish grin.

You closed the distance and hugged him, patting the back of his head. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” you whispered for his ears alone and Haechan let go the breath he’d been holding, releasing all the tension and pain in his chest.

Once you parted, Mark reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. You melted into his familiar arms and flushed when he said, “You are, by far, the greatest person I have ever met.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay.”

“Wait.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted to your toes. “Maybe a little more.”

Mark smiled as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss that he poured his all into.

A kiss that was dramatically interrupted by Jeno, knocking into Mark enough to jostle you both. “It’s not your job to save us, you know,” he chided sweetly.

Yes, it was and it always would be. Because they saved me first.

“Hey, I’m just an instrument of the power of rock and roll,” you said, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest and giving him a playful shove.

“I take back every compliment I’ve ever said to you,” he joked, tickling your sides.

You laughed.

The four of you gabbed and teased each other for what felt like an eternity. The air was lighter. The sun a was a little brighter. Your boys were smiling again and you felt the pieces of your heart snapping back into place.

Hope is a powerful thing. A gentle promise that maybe - just maybe - we could all be happy and whole.

“We’re burning daylight,” Jeno eventually said.

You exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road,” and it was the first time you said it without dread.

Hopping into the van after you, Mark stuck his head out and called, “Don’t forget the trash.”

Jeno proceeded to scoop Haechan up in his burly arms and carried him to the van.

“Very funny,” Haechan deadpanned, but he couldn’t help but grin.

Smiling till your cheeks hurt, you got in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, pulling out of the rest area and onto the highway, toward the new life awaiting you and your boys.

Everything would change for us. The drive home wasn’t some miserable journey we’d been fearing. It was the final chapter of our summer, but only the beginning of our story.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

[cutecatlov3r]

𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦!

bnha x reader ! (fem)

synopsis: halloween is so boring, right? that's what you thought until you met some new masked faces.

word count: 14.2k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, no quirks, college AU, alcohol, drugs, getting drugged(?), teasing, gang bang(?), recording, noncon(?), hair pulling, choking, degrading, praising, sub!reader, corruption, dry humping, nipple play, begging, oral (m! f!), fingering, spanking, cheating(Midoriya?), facials, manipulating (Midoriya?), piv, creampie, unprotected sex, grinding, clit grinding(?), and roleplay(?)

a/n: wrote this on wattpad but I'm posting it on here. not proofread, please comment if I messed anything up !... oh and please like, comment, and re-blog, ily ! please don't copy my work :x

song: Or Nah [Ty Dolla $ign, The Weekend, Wiz Khalifa, and Mustard]

"Come on Y/n! It'll be fun, you never go out anyway!"

My pink haired friend- well roommate, was currently convincing me to go to a special Halloween party... But it just sounds too cliche. I'm not really a party girl, I'd rather stay home and enjoy some horror movies.

Maybe I'll roll up a blunt later and let my mind take over as I watch people get murdered in the most gruesome ways...! In movies, of course.

"I promised some of my friends you'll be there!" Mina whined. She puffed out her cheeks, huffing.

I shook my head 'No'. 

Mina's friends were well... They were men. When I see them around her on campus I could tell that they are kind of intimidating. Especially the guy with red hair. He was ripped with abs and muscles, his little scar at the top of his eyebrow made him look scary. In a delinquent way.

But I've never spoken to her friends yet so I can't really judge so quickly.

It's the start of my first year in college, it's only been three months since I've got here and I haven't really made any friends. Mina is basically my only friend. It's not my fault! I've just been too busy to go out and greet new people. School work is a pain in the ass!

Mina walked over to her room, abruptly, I cocked my eyebrow at her, wondering what she was going to do. She came running out of her room, throwing a bag at me. "I already bought you a costume too! Please N/n!" she begged. She got on her knees, putting her hands together. She gave me some puppy dog eyes.

I rolled my eyes, looking into the bag... 

A bunny costume?

"Uh I don't know about this Mina," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. It's going to show a lot of skin. 

"Please Y/n! It's going to be fun! All of my friends are matching costumes together, it's gonna look so cool and you'll be like the only person who won't be able to see it!" 

I sighed, looking at the costume. It looks very provocative... I know I'm 18 and I'm officially an adult but jeez. I didn't think I'd ever see myself in such a revealing way. I'm usually in sweatpants and sweatshirts.

"I'll think about it," I said, shrugging. I put the bag on the coffee table nearby. I laid back on the couch, grabbing my phone to play some games.

The party was tonight, it was going to be hosted at someone's house. I think the guy's name was Shoto? I can't really remember what Mina was saying, she rambles a lot.

"Thank you my baby Y/n~ I'll tell everyone you're going!" Mina cheered, pumping her fist in the air. She grabbed out her phone quickly, typing fast.

"Wait I didn't say ye-"

"Already done! Everyone is expecting you now, so go and start getting ready!" 

It's only 6 pm... Do I seriously have to get ready? I wanna stay home now. I wanted to at least take a quick nap...

"The party starts at 9, but we are going around 8 to help set up. Shoto is my friend so I don't want him to set up alone," Mina said, stretching.

"Fine..." I sulked.

-

Shit...

I looked at myself in the mirror. My tits were basically spilling out of my costume! My thigh highs kept slipping off as well. I turned around and saw the fluffy cotton tail, but my butt was pretty much fully exposed. I had my hair down, sighing, I put on the bunny ears.

This is nothing like me but goddamn I do look pretty sexy. I just did my makeup normally, I went with my go-to makeup look, I wasn't trying to go all out tonight. I honestly am not expecting anything crazy to happen.

All I really want to do is say 'hi' and maybe take a shot or two, then I'll come home and watch some horror films.

Knock!

Knock!

"Y/n!" Mina called out, knocking on my door.

"Just open it," I yelled. I didn't lock my door so she just came in.

Mina walked in, looking at her phone. She must've just got done calling someone. She was wearing an all black bodysuit. She had black lipstick that was very vivid, it  went along well with her dark brown skin. It fit her perfectly. I looked at her belt, it had a ghost-face mask attached to it. Ah! She must be trying to be ghost-face for this Halloween! "It's time to-"

She just stared at me in disbelief. Does she think I look bad?!

"...Uh... How do I look?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"You look... Sexy!!!" Mina shouted, excitedly. She walked around me in circles. She was making sure to see everything. "It fits you perfectly! I didn't know you had such a sexy body!!" she continued.

The praise from her made my cheeks heat up. I rarely ever had compliments told to my face. It made me feel special. Mina always hypes me up when I show the tiniest bit of skin but this is the most she's seen. So I'm guessing she is very proud of me.

"You look very nice too! Are you ghost-face?" I asked, looking at her cute costume some more.

She shook her head 'yes', holding a thumbs up. "My friends and I are planning on matching!"

That's a cute idea. It will be cool seeing a bunch of ghost-faces at a party! Maybe this party won't be so bad... Mina put me in a confident mood, so I hate to say it but I'm kind of excited. As much as I don't want to go, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some sort of fun.

"Let's get going," Mina said, shaking her car keys in my face. I smiled, nodding.

We walked out of our apartment, heading to Mina's hot pink car. One thing everyone should know about Mina is that her favorite color is pink, well, she only likes the color pink. She made an exception for her friends today when she put on her black bodysuit.

Mina jumped in the car, starting the engine, I sat in the passenger seat. I put on my seat belt, sitting back, comfortably. Her seats were a fuzzy pink fur type. It was always so soft. 

After checking her black lipstick she started driving.

"This is like a 15 minute drive. Shoto lives out on the country side," Mina said, focusing her eyes on the road.

"That sounds cool," I replied, looking at my phone. I scrolled through my twitter feed, nothing really interesting was happening now.

"So are you planning on getting laid?" Mina teased, giggling. 

That question was out of nowhere! I dropped my phone, flustered. "No! Of course not..." I mumbled.

"Oh c'mon Y/n! When was the last time you got laid?" Mina asked. She tapped her fingers against her steering wheel, showing me her teasing gaze.

I went into a deep thought. I'm not a virgin or anything but I just don't have time to sleep with anyone right now, school work is my priority.

"Hm... I think like 8 months ago?" I replied. It was an old friend from high school, we both had sex only because we we're just reminiscing on old memories. We don't talk anymore, I guess. I don't care though. In my experience... Sex wasn't really that exciting to me.

"8 MONTHS?!" Mina shrieked, pretending to swerve the car.

"I don't care for sexual things," I shrugged, embarrassed. I never spoke with anyone about my sexual life so it all was embarrassing.

Mina shook her head, wagging her finger at me as she kept her eyes on the road. 

"We are getting you laid tonight," she stated.

I yawned. "I doubt I'll get laid. But if I do then it'll be a miracle," 

"I'll pray for you," Mina giggled. She turned on the radio, blasting it all the way up. The bass was making my heart shake, I didn't mind it though. Nicki Minaj is always her go-to rapper. So I just closed my eyes as Nicki Minaj's music played.

After a few minutes of Mina singing her heart out, she turned down the music. I opened my eyes, wondering if we'd made it to the party. I looked at the house in front of us and... It was huge! It was like a palace!

This can't be the place... right?!

"We're here," Mina said, parking her car at the front of the house. There was a circle-like entrance, a white fountain was in the middle. It looked amazing. I stepped out of the car to admire the outside of the house. It looked like a dream house that everyone would want, it probably cost millions. Mina got out of the car, standing next to me. "It's pretty, isn't it? When I first came here I had the same reaction,"

"Why are you two just standing there?" a voice asked.

I turned my attention to the huge door of the house. A boy with red and white hair stood there. He had a scar on his eye that was on the left side of his face. I'm not judging or anything, it actually looked pretty cool. He had on a ghost-face costume, letting a black hooded robe go down to his ankles. I wonder where his mask was.

"Shoto!" Mina yelled, walking quickly up the stairs of his entrance. I followed behind her, not knowing where I should go.

"Mina," Shoto greeting, nodding his head. His eyes were multicolored, one was blue and one was grey. His eyes trailed on my figure, starting from the bottom to the top. "You're in my English class. Your name is Y/n, right?"

He's in my class?! Gosh... I'm so rude for not even noticing!

"Yes," I nod. "I'm assuming you're Shoto?" 

He nodded at me, giving me a light smile. He stepped aside from his door, waving his hand as a gesture for Mina and I to come in. 

Amazed is an understatement. As soon as I stepped inside I was greeted with flashing lights, there were Halloween decorations everywhere. It looked so cool! Compared to the outside, the inside looks enticing. There was a double stairway that led to the second floor... All of it was simply breath taking!

"What could we help you with?" Mina asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"I think I did everything already. I told you, you didn't need to come and help. Midoriya and Ochako are actually in the kitchen, they are putting the drinks in some ice. I guess if you want, you can ask them if they need help with anything,"  Shoto explained.

Mina nodded, walking to the kitchen.

I stayed with Shoto. I don't even know why I didn't follow Mina. Shoto looked at me, I stared at him. It was silent, I don't really know what to say. I barely know this guy so it's bound to be weird if it's just us two.

Shoto coughed in an attempt to break this awkward silence. "Do you want to go to the lounge to have a seat?" he asked, kindly.

I'm kind of unsure on what to reply with but for now I guess I could try to befriend Shoto. I followed him to his lounge area and oh my... It was huge! There were two ping pong tables, two pool tables, drinks and snacks everywhere, gaming beanie bags, and a very big flat screen T.V. I can also see how the outside looks from the huge bay window, from what I can see there was definitely a pool out there. Is this heaven...?!

He sat on the couch near the gaming chairs, he patted down the seat beside him. I'm pretty sure it was a signal for me to sit with him, to which I accepted, taking a seat beside him.

"I like your costume. I never pictured you as someone who'd wear that though," Shoto commented.

I dead panned. Is that a compliment or an insult...? Jeez... Am I really that boring or something? C'mon! This outfit can't be that different from what I usually wear... Well... It is but still! I can have fun sometimes!

"Thanks..." I sulked, looking at the ground.

"Do you want something to drink?" Shoto asked, using his thumb to point behind him at the drinks.

I took a second to think but I just ended up nodding. One drink can't hurt.

Shoto gave me a slight smile, walking over to the red cooler. I looked around some more as he was rummaging through the cooler. I admired the detail and decorations put up to make this party seem fun.

"Shoto, where's the whiskey?" a deep voice asked, it seemed uninterested and bored.

Goddamn... That voice sounded so sexy, by habit I turned around to face the voice. It was a taller man with black shaggy hair. He was in sweatpants and a black shirt. The shirt hugged his muscles tightly. He had piercings and tattoos covering his body. I looked down at his hands to see black nail polish paint on his fingernails. He looked so hot.

His deep blue eyes pierced through mine, he licked his lips seductively.

"Aw Shoto, who's this little bunny?" he asked, taking a seat next to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, admiring my outfit up close. He had no shame as he stared directly at my tits! It's... It's kind of hot though.

"Go away Toya," Shoto groaned, sitting on the other side of me, he gave me a beer. I opened it, taking a sip.

I can see Shoto glaring at Toya, all Toya did was give him a smirk.

"I'm Toya, friends call me Dabi but you can call me whatever you want, pretty girl," Toya said, grabbing my chin to make sure I keep eye contact with him. He's so ugh... Sexy... My heart was beating at a rapid pace, he took my breath away. I could feel my face warm up from the nickname.

"I'm Y/n," I greeted, averting my eyes from his. I'm not trying to be rude but the eye contact was too intense. If I kept looking into his eyes I would've got lost in them.

He chuckled, letting go of my face. Shoto rolled his eyes at Toya.

"I thought you said that you don't do lame parties like this," Shoto said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I don't, just came here to get some whiskey and go back up to my room," Toya shrugged.

His room? Wait are they both brothers? I mean I can see some similarities. Their eyes are both gorgeous, their facial structure is sharp and handsome. I guess I could see them being brothers. Even if they are, I wonder why Shoto doesn't seem very fond of him.

"Well then get the liquor and leave then?" Shoto scoffed, irritated.

Toya let out a little laugh. He got up off the couch and walked over to the table with all the drinks. I took another sip of my beer as I watched him grab a big bottle of 'Jack Daniel's Whiskey'. He stopped in his tracks, standing right over me. 

"If this party gets boring, don't be afraid to just go upstairs. My room is down the right hallway, it's the last door on the left. Hope I see you there soon, we can have lots of fun," Toya flirted. His hand went into his pocket, he pulled out a little baggie that contained two round and white pills. He gave me a quick wink before leaving.

Shoto shook his head. "Sorry about my older brother, he isn't always like this," 

I put my hands up, swaying them. I wasn't offended or anything. "No, no, it's okay! I'm fine!" 

Shoto let out a sigh of relief. "So, are you excited for this party?" he asked, taking a sip of his own beer.

"I don't really know anyone around campus. I only came because Mina begged me to. I don't really have high hopes but from the decorations and everything, it seems like it's going to be fun," I replied, relaxing my body on the couch.

"It's Halloween, I'm sure it'll be fun," Shoto said, relaxing down on the couch with me. 

I shrugged, sipping on the beer can, it was bitter. I never really was fond of beer, I was more of a vodka girl.

"We should hangout sometime, I always see you around campus but I never talked to you. You seem cool," Shoto said, nonchalantly. His monotonous voice was very sensual, I liked it a lot.

I nodded my head. "Sure, we should exchange numbers," 

Shoto agreed. We both gave each other phones to each other. I added my contact info in his and he added his into mine. I wouldn't mind having lunch with Shoto, he seems nice so far. We also have English together, supposedly, so we could help each other out here and there.

Ding!

Shoto looked at his phone. "Fuck..." he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow.

"Everyone is planning on coming early, they are going to be here in like five minutes," 

I started to get filled with anxiety. Who exactly is everyone? Did he mean the whole university or...? Gosh, I'm just nervous!

"When everyone gets here our group is planning on meeting up in my room. You should come too, I'm sure they won't mind," Shoto said, pushing his hair back, it kept falling down a little.

"Oh, what are you guys going to be doing?" I asked. I didn't want to intrude if they were taking photos or anything together, it's their group and I don't want to be rude. I know many people don't like it when a new person joins their group randomly.

"We're just going to smoke some weed and then come downstairs to the party," Shoto replied. 

I gave him an unsure look. I don't want to be cross-faded at this party without having any friends to help me if I black out.

Shoto gave me a concerned look. "Shit I'm sorry, I didn't know if you smoked or not. I get it if you're not cool with things like that, I apologize,"

Shit! I didn't want to seem mad by smoking weed, I do it here and there too!

"No! It's not that... I just don't want to be cross-faded at this party. I don't want anything bad to happen, you know?" I said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

Shoto lightly chuckled. "Don't worry, nothing bad will happen, I swear. We all will be in my room around 9pm sharp. Be there, I insist. I'm personally inviting you," he said, softly.

I gave him a nod, smiling back.

"Fine, I'll go,"

"Did you want me to walk you there? I know that you haven't been here before. You may get lost," Shoto said, standing up, slowly.

"Oh you wanted to go right now? It's only 8:30?" I said, standing up as well. I finished the last of my beer, holding an empty can. I looked around for a trash can. I spotted it, I better remind myself to throw this away in a little bit.

"We can just hangout there for a little bit, my friends will meet us up there whenever. We all just agreed to be there by 9," Shoto explained, holding out his hand for me to take.

I decided to hold his hand as he led me to his room. We walked up the flight of stairs. The hallway was huge! Halloween decorations were everywhere! It was so cool. We walked down a dark hallway, he opened a door, which I assumed was his room. I stepped inside of the room, it was nice and clean. It was in a Japanese-like structure. It was like a living room though, not even, more like an apartment. His room was huge. 

I took a seat on the couch that was in there, Shoto sat next to me, texting on his phone.

"Midoriya will be here any second now so it isn't awkward," Shoto said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with only me being in here, I don't want it to seem like I just want it to be us two. I thought I should invite Midoriya in here as well so you guys could also be introduced," Shoto responded.

Aw. That's sweet that he thought about my feelings, I appreciated that respectfulness in a man.

"That's sweet of you to think about how I feel. And trust me, I'm not uncomfortable around you, but thank you for considering my feelings," I thanked, giving him a big smile.

He looked down, his hair was above his eyes so I couldn't see them but his face was tinted pink. Cute.

Knock!

Knock!

"Come in!" Shoto called out.

"Hey Sho-" a boy started, stopping his sentence as he saw me. The boy had freckles, his green eyes matched with his fluffy green hair. He was wearing a black robe, holding his ghost-face mask in his left hand. 

"Midoriya, this is Y/n," Shoto said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I gave Izuku a small smile and a little wave. I've definitely seen him on campus. He's always around a girl with brown hair and a guy with glasses.

Izuku's face was bright red as he walked over to us. He avoided looking at my outfit, I wonder why. Does he think it looked bad?

"N-nice to meet you y/n," Midoriya stuttered. "I'm Izuku," he introduced, extending his hand towards mine.

"Nice to meet you too, Izuku," I smiled, shaking his hand.

"You're Mina's roommate right? She talks about you all the time," Izuku commented, taking a seat next to me. He looked nervous and sweaty. He was a very cute guy, he seemed very shy though from what I could tell.

I laughed slightly, nodding. "I am her roommate," I confirmed. I had no idea Mina talked about me around her friends, it made me feel special. Mina always has a way at making people feel special, I love her.

"Kacchan and the others just called before I came in here, saying they were outside so they should be here any-"

Knock!

Knock!

"Speak of the devil," Izuku smiled, looking towards the door.

"Come in!" Shoto called out, his attention going to the door as well.

The door swung open, it made a loud sound. I made a little squeak, I wasn't ready to hear that loud noise. A bunch of people with ghost-face masks barged in. They all were wearing their masks, I couldn't even tell who was who.

"Got here early dipshit!"

"There's already some people down stairs, let's fucking party already! I brought the weed!"

"Hurry the hell up... I'm going over to Dabi's room for some molly after this..."

"Who's that?"

"Woah! Shoto! You bought us a stripper?!" a guy asked, rushing over to me. He took off his mask, revealing a blonde haired boy. He had a black strip of lightning in his hair. His golden eyes made direct eye contact with my eyes. "You're really sexy you know!" 

I blushed at his comment. Who is this guy?

"Denki! Leave her alone!" Mina called out, pushing past the other masked people. She ran over to Denki, slapping the back of his head. He winced in pain, rubbing the spot where she had hit.

"Who's that, Mina?" a voice asked. The voice took off his mask... It was that one scary guy with the red hair! He had his hair down today though, it was usually all gelled up! He looked not so scary with his hair down.

"Everyone! Take off your masks! I want to introduce you to the infamous Y/n L/n!" Mina cheered, going behind me to do some jazz hands.

I looked as each of the people took off their masks. They all stared at me. There was a high tension in the room as I looked at the other males in the room. Their eyes were glued to me... I didn't know how to feel. I felt like a lost bunny with a pack of hungry wolves... It didn't help that every single man in the room right now... is either sexy or hot! They made my legs feel weak.

One of the men was an ashy blonde, his eyebrows were furrowed. He glared at me with his red eyes. He looked annoyed. Jeez... Maybe this was a bad idea coming here into Shoto's room... I knew they wouldn't like me.

"Hi! I'm Eijiro Kirishima! It's very nice to finally meet you!" the red head said, giving me a bright smile.

This is surprising... He's so sweet! He wasn't anything like I expected, he seemed to give off a positive energy. I feel kind of bad I judged him based on his looks, he is like a happy little puppy.

I gave him a smile back. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you too,"

"So pretty lady, you're smoking with us or what?" 

I looked over at the voice, he gave me a smug smirk. He had black hair, it was a mullet-like type of hair cut. It looked really good on him. He held up a plastic bag full of weed, showing it off for me to see. His almond shaped eyes weren't even looking at my face, they were obviously looking at either my thighs or my waist.

"Don't pressure her," another voice added. 

I looked over at him. He was pushing his messy purple hair back. He had visible eye bags. His lavender eyes stayed staring at the floor, he seemed tired. He gave me an off-vibe. I liked the mysterious vibe though.

Mina shook her head. "This here is Bakugou, Sero, Shinso, and Denki," she stated, pointing to each of the boys. Bakugou was the ashy blonde who was glaring at me. Sero is that one guy with the smug smirk. And lastly, Shinso was the boy with the very unique purple eyes.

"I am here to smoke too..." I muttered, looking down at my hands. I feel embarrassed to really be here. I was the only person who wasn't dressed as ghost-face in this room. 

Denki looked at me, confused. "You smoke?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Damn, what other secrets aren't you telling us about bunny-girl?" he giggled.

I felt my heart race rapidly at his little nickname. A hot guy calling me 'bunny-girl' doesn't happen so often. Denki was very attractive, just from looking at his ear piercings and his little ring lip piercing, it was obvious he was hot! He did look very confident talking to me so I'm pretty sure he's some kind of flirt.

"It's Y/n," Mina corrected, irritated by her friends. 

Shinso laid down on Shoto's bed. Denki and Sero sat down on two bean bags. Bakugou and Mina joined Izuku, Shoto, and I on the couch. Kirishima sat on the floor, happily. I took a deep breath, trying to relieve my anxiety. I felt so anxious being here.

"Aw, is someone nervous?" Sero teased.

"No! I just am a bit anxious... I don't know you all that well," I admit.

"Aw, that's cute. Don't worry, we don't bite," Kirishima laughed.

His laughter made me feel a bit better. I took a deep breath, relieving my nerves. This won't be bad, it will be just fine. I just needed to stay calm, all we're doing is smoking.

"Let's get started then, shall we?" Sero asked, his voice sounding as if he was teasing me.

Mina grabbed my arm, suddenly, taking a picture of the two of us. She kissed my cheek, and grabbed my boob in the photo. I didn't care though, I know that she's a touchy person. Sometimes I can be touchy with her too. I was used to this.

"Cute! This is going on my Instagram later," she squealed. I smiled at her childishness.

"My turn?" Denki flirted, winking. He attempted to grab my hand but Mina smacked it away, wagging her finger at him. He gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

I giggled at his poor attempt to touch me. He is such a dork.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea. Let's all take a photo with the bunny-girl, it'll look so cool," Sero said, grinding up the weed in his grinder. What did he mean by cool? It would make me look like an odd one out, in my opinion.

"I wouldn't mind that," I agreed, looking around at everyone.

"It's only if you want to Y/n," Izuku said, reassuringly. He stopped his shy act, maybe he was more comfortable because he's around me, though his cheeks were still a bit pink.

Shoto took out his phone, tapping my shoulder. "Selfie?" he asked.

I nodded, smiling. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder as he took the picture. I am a pretty touchy person myself, only when I feel comfortable. I think the beer from earlier made me feel more confident as I spent more time with everyone.

"Hey, c'mon let's take a group photo. Stop trying to keep her to yourself, Shoto," Denki scoffed. It was a playful scoff, nothing signifying he was irritated.

"I-I'm not," he said, softly.

"Now! Mina! Can you please take the picture!?" Sero asked, giving his phone to her. Mina rolled her eyes, shaking her head yes.

"Can you stand up for a second bunny-girl?" Denki asked, sweetly. He gave me a cheeky smile. I agreed to stand up only because he asked so sweetly.

Denki sat in the middle, Izuku and Kirishima sat next to him. Shoto sat on the floor with Sero, under Denki. Bakugou and Shinso stood behind the couch. They all put on their ghost-face masks. It looked so damn cool!

But where am I supposed to sit on the couch? I looked down, not knowing what to do.

"Come here," Denki smiled, patting his lap. I looked at him confused… Is he asking me to sit on his lap? Should I? I barely know these guys but they all seem nice… Well almost all of them. I guess I could, I should let loose a bit, I shouldn't be known as a 'good girl'. I want to have fun!

I took a deep breath, walking over to Denki and the group. Shoto and Sero moved over a little so I could get by. I sat on Denki's lap, spreading my legs a little so I don't have them on Shoto or Sero. I don't want to make them feel uncomfortable.

Denki giggled, placing his hands on my waist, rubbing up and down slowly. He put his face by my ear, smelling my hair. "You smell good, babe," he whispered. My breath hitched a little, I could feel my core heat up. His voice was something that I really liked about him.

"Say cheese!" Mina yelled, giggling.

No one said anything, she snapped about three photos.

"More poses!" she demanded.

What other poses should we do?

"I have an idea, if it's okay with you babe?" Denki said, innocently.

I shrugged. "Alright, do whatever you want Denki,"

Denki did a little cheer underneath his breath. He grabbed Shoto's hand and placed it on my thigh, grabbing Sero's hand and doing the same thing. My mind was racing, my heart was beating fast. I didn't think he was going to do this! Denki put Izuku and Kirishima's hands on my boobs. I felt so hot and heated, I squeezed my legs together, slightly, not knowing what to say, lastly he put his hands on my waist.

Mina cocked her eyebrow, snapping some pictures. I could feel someone's hand go through my hair, roughly pulling on it. I let out a squeak, it hurt but I kind of liked it.

Mina snapped more photos. And within seconds a hand was around my neck, squeezing it, tightly. I blushed instantly, I don't know why I feel this way. I want to rub my thighs together so bad but Shoto and Sero's hands would be touching where I needed friction and I don't want that right now! It would be too embarrassing!

"All done!" Mina said, skipping over to us, handing Sero back his phone.

Everyone stopped touching me, I felt so dizzy. I shook my head, taking some deep breaths. That was intense… These guys are all so hot… I can't help feeling like this!

Sero grabbed his phone, showing everyone the photos. I was a blushing mess in almost all of them. I feel so embarrassed seeing myself in such a provocative way.

"You look good Y/n," Kirishima complimented, holding a thumbs up. He took off his mask, showing how red his face was.

"She deserves an award for this, right?" Sero teased, taking his mask off as well. Was he asking everyone or…? Sero was kind of confusing.

"She looks like a slut," a gruff voice commented. I turned around to face Bakugou, he scoffed at me, rolling his eyes.

W-well if I was a slut then I'd be happy to be one for these nice guys! I furrowed my eyebrows, rolling my eyes at him.

I could hear him curse underneath him breath, it made me smirk.

"Let's get back to business," Shinso said, sitting down by the grinder. He started grinding it up himself. Sero sighed, going over to Shinso to help. The two of them took off their masks.

Ding!

Mina looked at her phone. She started squealing.

"I gotta go, I'll smoke what's left! Ochako and Tsuyu are doing body shots!" she shouted, running out of the room.

Wait! Shit! I'm going to be the only one here then!

Bakugou walked over to the door, locking it. He took off his mask, giving me an angry look, sitting on one of the bean bags in Shoto's room.

Now I began to get more nervous. I was the only girl here now, everyone's eyes were on me. My heart was racing, seeing all of these eyes on me.

Denki grabbed my hips by surprise. I let out a tiny whimper because I wasn't expecting this. He let out a laugh, taking off his mask

"You're so cute," he complimented, pushing my body back to lay against his chest. I felt so tense. I took a deep breath, relaxing myself into Denki's arms.

I could feel something hard poking me. I began to get flustered by all of the thoughts running through my mind, was he hard right now?! Goddammit, this is making me feel more tense… I am flattered though.

"H-he's not wrong, you are pretty cute," Izuku added, taking off his mask, and looking away. His green hair covered his emerald colored eyes that I liked to look at.

"Tch. Stop acting so innocent Deku. We all know that's a fucking lie," Bakugou scoffed.

Izuku shook his head, slowly. He gave Bakugou a stern look, I did not expect this from him…

"Don't listen to him… He's just in a mood today," Shoto said, standing over me. He defended Izuku.

I nodded, understanding that what Bakugou said wasn't true… well maybe it wasn't, Izuku looked very serious. His seriousness made me feel nervous, in a good way.

"All done!" Sero cheered, lighting up his joint. He took a deep drag out of it.

"Share some!" Kirishima whined, walking over to Sero to get a hit out of the blunt.

I waited patiently for my turn. As the blunt went around, I watched each one of the boys start to get their high on. Denki took a deep drag, blowing the smoke in my face. I coughed, using my hand to fan away the smoke. Denki put the joint in his mouth, using his arms to flip me over to face him, I was straddling his waist now. I wanted to grind against him by instinct but I didn't, I waited for him to tell me what to do.

He inhaled the smoke, grabbing my hair, harshly. He connected our lips, I was so shocked. My eyes widened at the realization that he kissed me. I inhaled the smoke through his mouth, letting out a tiny cough.

Izuku was in a trance, seeing us two, up close. I got up off Denki's lap, I could feel my legs start to shake. I felt so weak. Looking around, I can see that each boy had their jaw agape. I sat next to Denki, sitting silently as he gave me the blunt.

What the hell was that… I… I… I've never felt so alive! I want to feel my heart race like that again… I want to take him right here and right now… That was so fucking sexy! I took a deep breath, taking a hit of the joint and passing it.

"Wait Denki! Did you fuck up the cycle?! It's puff puff pass! You fucker, your ass can get killed if it wasn't just us here, dumbass," Sero scolded. Denki just shrugged, not caring. He placed both of his hands behind his head, smirking.

I eased into the couch as I let my high take over.

"Let's hurry this shit up, they're doing jello shots downstairs," Bakugou stated, taking one last hit.

We went around in a circle two more times until Sero put out the joint in an ash tray that he brought with him.

"Save that for Mina, let's go," he said, walking over to the door.

I yawned, feeling my high. I did not want to get up. I wanted to stay there and relax.

"Go without me…" I mumbled, laying down on the couch.

"Tch, idiot,"

"We'll be back shortly, y/n!"

"Lock the door if it makes you more comfortable,"

"I'll be back in a second, we can finish what we started,"

"Bye!"

I didn't really care about what they said, I just loved this relaxing feeling. I smiled to myself, sitting up on the couch.

Wait… Maybe I should join them downstairs? I don't want to seem like a downer. Gosh now I feel bad... I shook my head, ready to stand up and join the rest of the party.

"Hey," a voice said.

I looked over to see Shinso hunched over a table. His head was down, arms over it. He turned his head to face me.

"Wanna try some molly?" he asked, shrugging. He said it so bluntly.

Holy shit. Molly? I'm already high… But fuck that would be so fucking fun.

"Yes," I said, a little too quickly.

Shinso got up, grabbing my hand. We walked over to Shoto's door, opening the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked, Shinso led me through some hallways. The bright colors of the decorations made me trip hard. It was so beautiful. I felt happy being here. The loud music made my heart shake because of the bass. We had to go around many people to get to our destination.

Shinso opened the door to a room, walking in I could see there was black decor everywhere. It was like walking into a gothic horror house. I looked around to see a familiar face, a blonde guy standing next to him.

"Woah, little bunny, you actually came!" Toya laughed. He walked over to me with his friend. Both him and his friend were way taller than my, they stood over me, looking at me with lust in their eyes.

"You're the cute chick Dabi couldn't stop talking about? He was right about you being sexy. I'm Keigo," Keigo introduced. He had a visible eyebrow piercing. His hair was long and shabby so I couldn't spot ear piercings but I wouldn't be surprised if I saw them.

"We came here for some molly," Shinso said, stepping in front of me.

Toya laughed. "Are you sure? I can smell the weed off your breath,"

Shinso nodded.

Toya raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "It's your funeral," he commented.

Shinso led my hand to Toya's coffee table. On the coffee table were some white lines. A $100 bill was rolled up, It seemed Toya and Keigo were already doing some before we got here.

"One line each, that's it dummies," Toya stated. "I don't want anyone dying tonight,"

"For real, the last time the guy's body wouldn't fit in the grave," Keigo joked.

I nodded my head, giggling, sitting down by Shinso. Shinso took the $100 bill and put it by his nose, sniffing the white line like it was nothing. He handed me the bill. I looked at it unsure. Should I really do this? I'm already just fine with being high off weed…

"C'mon be a good girl and do it," Keigo said, watching me intensely.

"Yeah little lady, you can take it, right?" Toya asked, placing his cold hand on the back of my neck.

I nodded my head, I used the bill to sniff up the white powder. I've never done molly when it's crushed up. So it took a couple of tries to get it all in my nose.

"Wow, what a good girl," Toya complimented, patting my back.

Shinso glared at Toya, grabbing my hand.

"We'll get going," he said, standing up.

"Wait, bunny-girl. If you want to feel even more good, take some of this," Toya stated, handing a pill to me.

"What's this?" I asked, my eyes feeling droopy.

"A surprise," he winked.

I nodded my head, not thinking. Toya pinched my cheeks together, inserting the pill into my mouth, his thumb grazing over my lip, I swallowed it without hesitation. I wanted to get fucked up tonight, I trust Toya enough not to kill me.

"Have fun you two," Keigo said, cockily.

Shinso put up his middle finger, grabbing my arm to walk out of the room. He led me back to Shoto's room. Once we settled into the room, we both laid in Shoto's bed right next to each other.

"Why'd you want to try molly with me, you don't even know me?" Shinso asked, his voice sounding more deep.

I looked around the room. I felt euphoria… This is the best I've ever felt. The molly kicked in quickly. My head was spinning, it felt so damn good.

"You're hot," I replied, shrugging. That is one of the reasons as to why I tried molly with this hot stranger. I didn't lie to him or anything.

"You're sexy," he commented, facing me.

"Thank you," I thanked, looking into his lavender eyes. I felt so good, it was so amazing. "This is the best I've ever felt," I admit.

"This is amazing, do you feel the universe spinning?" Shinso asked.

I nodded my head, quickly. "Yes!"

Wait… What the hell…? I sat up, sweating. Shinso used his elbows to prop himself up to look at me.

"What's up?"

"I feel hot," I said, waving my hands to fan me. I could feel heat deep inside my core. I can't ignore this! What the hell is going on?! I panted, putting my thighs together. It's… It's unbearable! I need friction now! It's too hot!

"Don't look!" I yelled, walking over to the couch, which was across the room.

Shinso closed his eyes, his movements slow.

I took off my outfit, I needed to get some air, it's so hot, it isn't going away! I need help, my core was hurting. My black panties had a wet spot on them, I felt it slightly and it was damp, very damp. What did Toya give me?!

"What's goin-"

Shinso made direct eye contact with me. I covered my chest, blushing instantly. Shit! I'm basically naked… I only have my thigh highs and panties right now.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

"I feel so hot! Shinso! It's unbearable, you- You have to help me!" I yelled, panting

Shinso walked over to me, trying to avoid looking at my body. "How can I help you?" he asked.

"I-I don't know!" I replied, rubbing my thighs together.

Shinso looked at me confused. He thought for a second. "Shit. Dabi must've given you some sort of pill to make you… well… you know,"

"Fucking Toya!" I yelled, squirming around. This hurts, I need friction now. I need help now. It doesn't help that I'm feeling so good already.

"Just come here," Shinso said, shaking his head. "I can try to help,"

I nodded my head, sitting next to him. Fuck… He looks so hot, I want him. I want him so badly. Wait. Stop! Why am I thinking like this.

Shinso looked away from me, patting his lap.

I straddled his lap. I need friction, I can't help it… Stop it. Don't do it…

Shinso took a deep breath, grabbing my chin, placing his soft and tender lips on mine. I could feel his hot tongue in my mouth. We swirled our tongues together, it's making me feel more turned on. How is this helping?! He moved his hand to my hips, helping me grind myself on his lap. With his other hand, he groped my boob, kneading it in his hand.

I let out a whimper. It felt so good, I want more.

"M-more," I stuttered, looking down at my panties. I liked seeing the way my panties were grinding against his thigh.

He took my cheeks with his hand, pinching them together. I looked in his eyes, he gave me a sly smile. "Beg some more and I'll think about helping you," he said, taking his hands off my body.

I wanted to cry, I needed relief now! It's too hot, I need it!

"Please Shinso! Please help me," I begged, I could feel tears at the ends of my eyes.

Shinso gave me a smirk, crashing his lips on mine once again. His tongue felt so good, I need him right now… He pinched both of my nipples with his hands, causing my back to arch. I felt myself grinding on him, instantly. He gave me a seductive look in his eyes, placing one of my nipples in his mouth. He swirled his tongue, sucking on it softly. I jolted in pleasure. It all felt too good… I want Shinso to fuck me right now! I don't need foreplay! I just need him now!

"Hey guys-"

Me and Shinso's head shot up to see Izuku, Kirishima, Sero, Bakugou, Denki, and Shoto standing there.

I covered my boobs, getting off of Shinso's lap. The heat in my core was still burning, I know I'm supposed to feel embarrassed but… I just feel even more heated.

"Holy shit Shinso!" Denki yelled, walking over to sit next to me. "You really started without us? Tsk, that's cold,"

Shinso rolled his eyes at the blonde. What did Denki mean by that?!

"I'm just joking, but seriously, shit, if it wasn't for me wanting to come up here then you guys would've had some fun, right?" Denki teased. He wrapped his arm around me, looking down at my squished up boobs.

"Denki, stop being a dick, leave them alone. Let's go," Kirishima said, looking away from me.

"No we should stay," Sero shrugged.

I don't care who stays! I just need to feel relieved right now! They all are hot as fuck so I don't care!!!

"Let's leave," Shoto said, softly. He covered his eyes with his hands.

Bakugou let out a little laugh. I cocked my eyebrow at him. He walked towards me. With one hand he grabbed my hair, tightly. With the other, he held onto my throat.

For some odd reason, I really liked the pain he was inflicting on me.

"This slut wants us to stay, don't you?" he asked. He looked at me as if I was a pathetic whore. My body wanted them to stay but my morality knows it would be such a bad thing to do, especially with all of them being here. Bakugou pulled my legs apart. He laughed. "So wet for us huh?"

I felt so dizzy, I wanted this rude man to touch me everywhere. I don't even like him.

"I-is that true y/n? Do you want us to stay?" Izuku asked, softly. His face was as red as a tomato.

My body answered for me. I nodded my head, desperate for any type of relief. I don't care who does it, I need it right now.

Bakugou smirked at me, his eyes felt as if they were glowing red. Maybe it was the molly or whatever but holy shit… I'm tripping. His eyes were so beautiful...

Shoto walked over to his door, making sure it was locked. As he went to lock the door, everyone came towards me and Bakugou, surrounding us.

"I knew you were a slut," he scoffed. He grabbed me by my hair, pulling me down to the floor. He let go as I sat on the floor. My thighs were squeezing together, I watched as he walked over to Shoto's bed. He sat down on it, spreading his legs a little bit. He looked so sexy right now…

"Hey! Don't be so rough," Kirishima scolded, bending down to get on my level. He grabbed my cheek, caressing it. "You okay?" he asked, concerned. He tried to keep his eyes away from my boobs.

I nodded my head. He was so sweet, if I wasn't feeling how I was, I would've asked for his number. I feel pathetic that they are all witnessing me look so lewd. God… I just want this feeling between my legs to go away!

"Hey slut! Get your ass over here," Bakugou demanded, rolling his eyes. I looked at him, feeling so out of it. I felt so good right now yet so bad at the same time. My eyes were only focusing on Bakugou. I feel like I'm floating…

"You should probably listen to him," Kirishima said, giving me a smile.

I started to stand up, taking Kirishima's advice. If Kirishima thinks I should listen to Bakugou then I probably should. "Hey!" Bakugou yelled.

I looked at him confused. Why was he yelling at me right now!? I didn't even do anything!

"Get on all fours and crawl over to me like the bitch you are," he finished, pushing his ashy blonde hair back. He sounded stern. It really made me interested in that asshole's personality. Was he born a dickhead or made into one?

I looked around at everyone. Sero lit back up his joint, sitting on the couch with Shinso, Denki, and Shoto. Izuku and Kirishima were making sure I was feeling fine, standing close to me.

"Okay…" I agreed, getting on all fours. My knees and hands dragged their way over to Bakugou. I was so dizzy, I wanted him so bad… Wait… No I do want him. I can't even say I don't want to do this because I do. I want him to fuck me.

I could hear Sero laughing. I don't care, I may look like a pathetic slut but I need this.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned around, slowly. I sat up, seeing Denki recording me as I crawled over to Bakugou. His phone was keeping close to my wet panties. I was kind of embarrassed that he was recording but I think it will be fine… He wouldn't release the footage, right?

"C'mon babe, go on," Denki said, grabbing my face and turning it over to Bakugou. He gave my ass a firm slap, the pain felt so good.

I continued to crawl. My boobs bounced slightly as I crawled. I couldn't care less, though I know Denki is loving every second. I could see a tent being built up under his robe. I shook my head, getting back to my main focus, Bakugou. I reached Shoto's bed, kneeling down. Bakugou looked at me, grabbing my chin so that I could face him. I could barely keep my eyes open, I needed him, badly.

"Touch me now…" I mumbled. It was embarrassing to tell this sexy asshole that I wanted him. He's offering so I might as well.

"I don't think I will. I hate sluts like you," he said, venom in his voice.

I couldn't even argue with him. I was feeling too horny to care whether he was going to please me or not. Why the hell would he make me crawl over to his ass if he wasn't going to please me. I'm starting to get irritated, but oh well… I could always please myself.

My hand went to my clothed slit. I'm in a room full of men touching myself… I would've never expected this to happen when I came to this party. I needed to relieve myself, I'd feel shameful if I wasn't high. But I'm high as hell and I need this. No one is helping me… I can't stop myself. My core was burning… Nothing else matters but this.

"Aw, poor bunny. Come here, I'll show you some love," Sero said, patting his lap. I looked over at him, ready to crawl over to him. I'm so desperate… I don't care who it is. I felt like crying… I really needed someone to touch me.

Denki moved the camera to my face, zooming out to look at my body.

"So sexy…" he commented. I felt flustered by his comment, I grabbed onto the end of his robe, desperately. He was the closest person near me. I bent down tugging his clothing. I looked into his golden eyes, giving him a whiny look. I wanted him to get the signal that I needed him. The camera shined in my face, he smirked.

He reached down to my level, grabbing my face, he placed his soft lips on mine. The camera recorded us two. I liked it, I liked seeing myself kissing Denki in the camera. He grabbed my boob, making me moan a bit. He squeezed it, teasing my nipple.

"Denki… touch me…" I moaned, feeling my thighs rub together.

"I think Mr Grumpy Pants actually has something to say," Denki giggled, wagging his finger over for me to look at Bakugou. I looked over at Bakugou confused, he was glaring at Denki. Why was he glaring? I thought he didn't want anything to do with me?

"Tch," Bakugou scoffed. He grabbed the back of my neck, giving it a firm squeeze. I squeaked as he led me over to Shoto's bed. "Listen here you little cock tease, I'm not going to ever kiss you or even make you feel good but you're going to get on your knees and suck my cock like the whore you are,"

"Yes sir…"

Why the hell did I say yes… He's so goddamn mean! But holy fuck I do want to suck his cock right now. It won't make my painful pleasure go away, though I could try.

Bakugou let out a small chuckle, sitting at the edge of Shoto's bed. I bent down, on my knees, ready to do whatever he wanted me to. I was caught up in the moment. The lust running through my body made me feel no shame.

Bakugou pulled up his black robe, revealing black boxers. He was hard, I could see his cock throbbing through the boxers.

"It's too big…" I mumbled, my eyes fluttering. I wasn't lying I guess… I just wanted to feed his ego though.

"You're going to be a good little slut and take it," he said, in a serious tone.

When he said that I could feel myself getting more turned on, I don't even know how this is possible…

Someone tapped on my back. I turned around to see Izuku. He gave me a sinister smirk… There was something wrong with his pure eyes from earlier… They were filled with pure lust. It gave me the chills.

"Don't be mean Kacchan. She deserves something too," Izuku said, tracing his hands on my curves. I felt so alive, my senses were reacting so differently due to my high.

"Do whatever the hell you want, Deku. All I care about is cumming deep in her throat,"

Izuku smiled, grabbing my butt. I let out a whimper, his hands were rough. I could see some scarring on them but I wasn't going to ask how he got them.

"Stand up for a second," Izuku ordered, he wasn't messing around. His tone made my knees feel weak. His innocent act has finally stopped, he is truly himself right now… And I'm loving every second of it.

I listened to him, standing up. Izuku grabbed my neck, pulling me in to kiss him. I had no chance to even react as his tongue slipped in my mouth. He kissed me, sloppily, grabbing my ass with his hands. I let him. His tongue felt every inch of my mouth, biting my lip as he broke our kiss.

"Good girl," he praised.

I blushed at his comment. He gave me a quick wink before laying onto the floor by Shoto's bed. I looked at him confused.

"Come here," he ordered. I did as I was told, bending down to look at Izuku more thoroughly. The freckles on his face were so cute. "Sit on my face," he said, nonchalantly.

Hearing those words made me want to shout in happiness, finally… I could stop this heat. I wanted to just kiss him then and there, instead I did as I was told, sitting down near his face. My clothed cunt hovered over him slightly.

"Hey, pay attention to me too whore," Bakugou said, catching my full attention. He reached inside his boxers, pulling out his cock. He was hard so it stood upwards. It was nice and long, I can tell he was really turned on due to how pink his tip was. His dick was a bit above average.

I could almost feel myself drooling. Before I could place my hands on his cock, Izuku wanted some attention. His tongue rubbed against my clothed clit, making me jolt in pleasure. He was the only thing I cared about right now. He began to suck on my good spot, causing me to whimper, I wanted to remove my panties to feel even more but Bakugou grabbed a fist full of my hair.

"I said pay attention to me too," he boldly stated, lining up his cock with my mouth. "Open your mouth," he ordered.

I opened my mouth, sticking out my tongue.

He looked at me, kind of shocked. His shock didn't last for long as he furrowed his eyebrows, glaring down at me. "Tch. You're such a disgusting whore," he said, slapping his pink tip on my tongue.

Without hesitation he pushed my head down to take his length in my mouth. I could feel tears brim at the ends of my eyes. I gagged, coughing as he took it out.

"Go on, I'm not fucking doing everything myself," he said, bluntly.

I nodded, taking his tip in my mouth. I sucked on it, going down more and more. He let out a few grunts. His grunts made me feel butterflies. He may be a rude boy but holy shit his grunts are to die for. I'd definitely do this again just to hear him at least whimper.

"You're doing so well Y/n, maybe I should remove these panties hm? I really want to taste you," Izuku hummed, toying with the brims of my underwear.

"Y-yes Izuku… Please…" I mumbled, bringing my hand to Bakugou's cock and grabbing it. I rubbed up and down his cock as I spoke to Izuku.

"Speak up, slut," Bakugou ordered.

"Please take them off Izuku, I'm begging you," I said, my voice cracking. I wanted it to be taken off so bad.

I looked down to see Izuku smirking to himself. He slid underneath me, leaving me with no one under me. Without a care in the world, my hand found its way under my panties, rubbing my own clit, softly, to ease the heat, I couldn't take it any longer. I could see Bakugou smiling, looking away, hoping I didn't catch his smile.

"Shoto, mind lending me a hand?" Izuku asked.

I didn't hear a word from Shoto, I continued to use my mouth and hand on Bakugou to please him, but I needed the pleasure! Not him!

"Do you mind if I touch you Y/n?" Shoto asked, politely.

I stopped sucking on Bakugou's cock to look at Shoto. I nodded my head. "Shoto please touch me," I said, quietly.

He smiled at me, grabbing both of my cheeks to pull into a kiss. His kiss was passionate and warm. It made my heart flutter. This was nothing like the other kisses, his was genuine.

"I'll make you feel good, I promise,"

I could feel someone moving my legs slightly. I looked down to see some familiar green hair.

"Don't mind me," he smiled, moving my panties to the side. It had gotten me so excited, my heart was racing, I wanted him to satisfy me.

"Holy shit this is gonna get good," Denki commented, bringing his phone up to the four of us. He stood to the side, making sure to get a good view of me and these men. I wasn't going to protest against him recording, I was too in the moment.

I continued to suck on Bakugou's cock, letting my tongue go on the side, earning more grunts from him. I could tell he liked what I was doing.

"Y/n~" Izuku called out. I could feel his hot breath inch closer to my now exposed slit. Within the blink of an eye Izuku's tongue pressed itself against my clit, sucking it, softly.

I couldn't help but moan. "Izuku- It-It's so good, please don't stop," I moaned, bucking my hips to match the rhythm of Izuku's tongue. He knows how to please a woman… I've never felt this before. His tongue knew what to do. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, holding me down, stopping me from squirming.

"Bitch, keep on sucking, you aren't fucking finished," Bakugou said, panting, lightly. I could tell he was either getting close or was very horny. All I could do was smile in ecstasy. I rubbed the tip of his cock, making him tense up. My tongue glided up and down his shaft as my hand continuously rubbed his tip. "Fuck…" he groaned, quietly.

Izuku's tongue kept gliding over my clit, it felt so good. Just when I thought it couldn't get better I could feel someone's hand grabbing my ass. I let out a moan, the hand reached further down, making me get butterflies.

"Ah~ W-wait-" I moaned, feeling a finger inserted inside me. This was heaven. This is exactly what I needed.

"Don't worry y/n, my slender fingers will take care of you," Shoto commented.

His finger squirmed around in my gummy walls, I couldn't help but tighten around it. It felt too good. Another finger was added by surprise. I let out another lewd moan. This was all feeling too good. Shoto pumped his fingers in and out of me, going slowly. It felt even better when Izuku started to suck on my clit, causing me to arch my back.

"Holy shit guys, you need to come and take a better look at this… It's so… It's so hot up close," Denki said, his breath hitching. His camera was brought down to Izuku and Shoto, showing everything they were doing to me.

Shoto's fingers curved inwards, making me whimper in pleasure. Tears were forming in my eyes, I needed to release soon… It's so unbearable. His fingers felt so amazing. They kept curving, I tightened with each curve. He was getting real close to my g-spot. If he kept this up at this rate, I'll probably be cumming soon.

I needed to focus my attention on Bakugou now. His pants were getting more noticeable.

"Is Mr Grumpy Pants going to cum?" I asked, teasingly.

Bakugou panted, annoyed of me. He grabbed my head, pushing it down. I probably shouldn't have teased him… He bobbed my head up and down. The pace kept picking up. I couldn't even breathe at this point, I tried to through my nostrils but it was so hard to. He let go of my head, I stopped sucking his dick, gasping for air.

"That'll teach you whore. Now hurry this shit up. I'm close," Bakugou said, laying his back down on Shoto's bed.

"O-okay…" I muttered.

Shoto… He's hitting my spot! I…!

"Shoto! More! Just like that please!" I squirmed, rubbing Bakugou's cock faster.

With that being said, Shoto's pace quickened with his fingers, curling them in the right spots. Izuku's tongue helped try to reach my climax, he used his thumb to help alongside his tongue.

"Izuku- Ah~ M-more!"

It was all feeling too good. This is what I wanted… it's what I needed! My knot in my stomach was building up and I couldn't stop myself from releasing it.

Bakugou propped himself up on his elbows, looking at my face.

"Do-Don't stop!" I yelled, using my hand to grab on to Izuku's fluffy green hair. At this point I had to stop focusing on Bakugou's pleasure and start focusing on my climax. I could feel Izuku smile, going faster. I felt so… So fucking amazing. "I'm goin- I'm cumming!"

After I said that, the knot in my stomach was released, I felt so alive… Stars were everywhere. I felt lightheaded and dazed. I shuddered, taking some deep breaths. As I was taking the deep breaths, I could feel warm liquid hit my face. I opened my eyes to see Bakugou looking at me. His face looked relaxed, his cocked bounced up as more cum went on to my face.

He sat up, putting his dick back in his boxers. He grabbed my face, admiring his work. He grabbed out his phone, snapping a photo of me covered in his cum. "Stupid girl," he mumbled, getting off Shoto's bed. Bakugou stretched a little bit before walking over to Shoto's door. "I'll be doing some shots downstairs, call me if you need me," he mumbled, taking his leave. He seemed more calm yet still grumpy. I wonder what his thoughts were at that moment.

Shoto's fingers slid out of me and Izuku got out from under me. Izuku's face was covered in sweat and my juices.

"You were tasty," he said, giggling.

Shoto looked at me and his hand. "Want to try some Izuku?" he asked.

Izuku nodded, licking up Shoto's fingers which had my cum on them. I was still panting from my climax but just seeing that gesture made me feel horny all over again.

"You guys I swear, she tastes so good," Izuku said, using his robe to wipe off the juices that were on his chin.

Ding!

Izuku looked at his phone. He rolled his eyes. "Gotta run, my girlfriend needs me," he said, getting up.

GIRLFRIEND?! WAIT! WAIT! WHAT?! My eyes widened, my heart started to swell out of guilt. I'm… I'm a homewrecker…?

Izuku snickered, looking at my face. "I'm just fucking with you, we are on and off," he laughed. "Now, you guys have fun, alright? Maybe I'll be back for some more," he winked. Izuku put back on his shy act, mocking me with it. "S-see you later Y/n! Y… You were so hot!"

I just stared at him in disbelief as he walked away. He is… He is something else.

"I'm pretty sure I just came without even touching myself," Denki commented, breaking me out of my trance. He put his phone away. He kneeled down to my level, placing his hand on my cheek to wipe off Bakugou's cum. He gave me a smile, pecking a kiss on my lips. "You were so good babe! Now, Now… Are you going to be a good girl for us?" he asked, turning my head over to Shinso, Kirishima, and Sero.

The three of them stared at me in a daze, they looked intoxicated by me. Why not finish what I started with the men in this room?

Quickly, I nodded my head yes. I had no idea what I was getting into.

"I'm going to need someone to record this shit," Sero said, putting his joint out on his ash tray. He grabbed out his phone, looking for a place to put his phone. He set it down on a nearby chair.

"I can record, don't worry," Shoto said, calmly. He picked up Sero's phone, ready to record the scene that was bound to happen.

I walked over to the couch the other boys were on, sitting down. I was waiting for them to tell me what to do. The heat in between my legs wasn't fully gone but it was less intense than before.

"Y/n why don't we do a little role-play?" Denki asked, grabbing his mask. He put on his mask, giggling, taking a seat next to me.

"Are we seriously making a porno right now? I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable," Kirishima said, crossing his arms.

"I-I'm not uncomfortable or anything I swear! I just want to finish what I started," I said, looking down at my hands. I'm quite embarrassed but it's my fault for being all lewd in the first place, I should just continue on with this. It'll be fun anyway, this is a once in a lifetime thing. "I'll do whatever you want Denki,"

I could hear Denki getting excited. "Shoto! Bring the camera over here!" Denki ordered. Shoto nodded him head, bringing the camera up close to Denki and I. "Get on your knees,"

I did as I was told, getting on my knees on the couch. Denki sat down in front of me, grabbing my chin. Kirishima, Sero, and Shinso just sat on the same couch admiring my looks as I was on my knees.

"3…2…1… Action," Shoto said, nonchalantly.

"I don't know whether I want to fuck your throat or slit it open…" Denki said, his thumb rubbing over my lips.

My heart race quickened. I never tried kinky stuff like role-play before. I guess tonight will have to be a first for everything.

"Pfft! Haha… So fucking cringey," Shinso laughed, rubbing his eyes. His eye bags felt as if they were darker than before. Maybe I was still high? I did burn off a lot of my high with my last orgasm.

"Hey! You're ruining the video!" Denki whined, taking off his mask to show his frustration.

Shoto paused the video, waiting for their feud to settle.

"I'll show her what some real role-play looks like, c'mere," Shinso said, patting down his lap. "Come, sit down,"

I blushed at what he was saying.

"This is so unfair!" Denki protested, crossing his arms.

"I guess you'll have to wait your turn," I said, boldly. I felt more confident now that I was starting to get comfortable with these guys.

Denki liked the sound of that.

I made my way to Shinso, sitting on his lap like he told me to. Shinso put on his mask, nodding his head over to Shoto. That was Shoto's signal to start recording.

"Are you gonna hump my cock like the little bunny you are?" he asked.

My face was heating up at this… He was being so lewd, it didn't help that his face was under a mask so I couldn't see him saying it with his mouth. I could feel his hard dick against my panties. It made me feel turned on knowing he was already hard.

Shinso shook his head, grabbing my hips, grinding me against his boner. It snapped me out of my thoughts, my attention was fully on my pleasure now.

I whimpered at the friction. It felt nice being on top of his lap. I wish I could grab onto his purple locks as I did this.

"Take off your panties. Animals don't wear clothes. Go on, take them off," he said.

"Okay," I responded, getting off of him. I slowly took off my panties, making sure that Shinso was watching me. Little did I know everyone in the room was watching me, lustfully, waiting for their chance to pounce on me like a wild animal. I was only thinking of Shinso right now.

Shinso lifted up his black robe, showing some dark purple boxers. I sat down on his lap once again, no panties on. The only thing I had on I guess was the bunny ears.

Shoto made sure to record us, closely, zooming in on my exposed pussy and Shinso's boxers.

"Are you ready to rub against me like a bunny in heat?" Shinso asked, laying back, lazily.

I nodded my head, feeling butterflies. I could tell I was already wet, Shinso's voice was so sexy….

Shinso took out his cock. It was a little longer than Bakugou's. His carpet matched the drapes, his robe lifted up higher, showing some abs. It made me almost drool at the sight. I wish I could see his whole body.

"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to grind your clit against my dick until I cum, got it?" Shinso explained.

"I- Okay," I agreed. I've never did this with a guy before… I hope I don't mess this up… I placed my hands on his knees, leaning my body backwards and my pussy forward towards Shinso's cock. My legs were straddling his thighs.

He grabbed his dick, helping me line it up with my folds. I could see him oozing with precum. I took a deep breath, rubbing my clit on the tip of his cock. I felt so euphoric.

I kept trying to grind myself on him, it's my first time doing this! I'm not going to be a pro at it. I could hear little pants coming from Shinso as I continued grinding myself on his tip. His pants made me feel better, at least I knew that I wasn't doing too bad.

I whimpered, wanting to go faster but I didn't really know how to. I furrowed my eyebrows, I wanted to whine. I felt like this wasn't enough.

"Let me help you," he panted, pushing my hips down to stop the movement.

I looked at him confused. Was I doing bad at this? I started to feel a bit down knowing I wasn't probably doing it correctly.

"… Am I doing something wrong?" I asked, softly.

"What? No! I just see you're struggling a bit so I wanted to help you out," Shinso said, shaking his head.

I sighed in relief. That confirmed that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I don't like being selfish in bed, I want my partner to feel just as good as me.

"Move guys," he ordered, waving to the side. I'm assuming he was talking about Sero, Kirishima, and Denki.

They all listened moving. Shinso grabbed my body, laying me down on the couch.

"What are you doing?" I asked, covering my eyes. I felt too embarrassed being so exposed while lying down.

"I'll be taking some charge, okay little bunny?" He said, pushing my legs up to my chest.

I squirmed a little, I was so flustered, I felt too exposed.

Shinso took the head of his cock, rubbing it in between my folds.

This felt so much better, it was perfect. The way his tip glided over my clit felt amazing. I moaned, silently.

The boys stood over us, watching everything that was going down. Shoto made sure to get an angle that saw everything.

He tapped his tip against my clit, causing little shocks of pleasure.

"A-ah~" I moaned. This felt so different to what I was used to, I liked it.

"You like that?" He asked. He sounded genuinely confused. I bit my lip, nodding. I didn't want him to stop.

"Don't stop…" I mumbled.

I could hear him let out a chuckle. "Whatever you want, bunny,"

He took his cock, rubbing it with a faster pace against my folds, hitting my clit over and over.

"So good~" I moaned, feeling my legs tremble.

He continued rubbing himself on me, making me feel amazing each time he went up and down.

"This is so hot…" Kirishima said, quietly.

I looked at his eyes, he was in a trance, looking at what was going on. It made me feel flattered. His shark-like teeth were showing as his mouth hung agape.

"Kirishima…" I moaned.

He turned to look at me, his face a bright red hue. "Y-yeah?" he asked. His voice cracked, letting me know that he was either anticipating for me or because he's shy. He does seem more of the shy type, he is very respectful.

"Touch me," I said, groping my own boobs. I arched my back, feeling Shinso's cock move faster against my folds.

Kirishima covered his eyes, embarrassed. He took a deep breath, placing his hand on my boob, squeezing it, softly. I let out a mewl, his hands were so big yet not as rough as the other boys. He continued groping me, not looking at my face. He was too embarrassed.

"Sh-Shit! I'm gonna cum!" Shinso exclaimed, panting harshly. His cock went faster against my folds, twitching. He then started cumming all over my stomach.

I propped myself up on my elbows, admiring the cum that was dripping from the tip of his cock.

"Sorry… You were just too hot, I couldn't stop," Shinso said, sitting on the couch, he took off his mask. His face was all sweaty, a pink hue on his cheeks. I sat up as well. Shoto paused the video, his breath hitching. I can see that he was turned on by the sight of us.

"It's no problem," I said, reassuring him. I actually like it when boys cum fast, it makes me feel good about myself.

"Don't worry about this Shinso, you were just making her wet for us to finish off," Sero said, stretching his arms.

"This is going to get real messy," Denki added, licking his lips. His gaze was kept on my lips.

Shit… I totally forgot I had three more guys to satisfy. My stamina was already running low. All of this pent up energy was making me tired.

"Go ahead, I'm just going to take a nap here," Shinso said, yawning. He laid his head on the couch's arm. I guess his stamina had run out.

"Let's take her over there to the bed, she was being a good girl," Sero said, grabbing me off the couch. He slung me over his shoulder. His strength surprised me, it made me more interested in him. He placed me on the bed, not too harsh yet not too soft.

"You're going to want to record everything~" Denki said, talking to Shoto. Shoto just gave him a nod.

"Wait guys," Kirishima started. He sat on the bed with me, giving me a serious look. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to," he continued. I could tell that consent meant a lot to him, it made my heart flutter.

"I'm sure," I replied, nodding my head.

He looked at me unsure, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promise that I'm sure, I'll show you," I said, my hand trailed up his thigh. I teased him, inching closer to the tent that was building up in his robe.

"That's your cue to start recording," Denki winked, joining Kirishima and I on the bed. Shoto brought the camera to us, making sure to record. His hands knew what they were doing, having me doubt if this was his first time recording anything.

Denki grabbed my face, placing his lips on mine. He kissed me passionately. His tongue slipped into my mouth, exploring every inch. He was a pretty damn good kisser, his hand hitched up my waist, grabbing my boob.

I let out a moan. From the corner of my eye I can see Sero making his way over to me, he put on his mask. Sero sat behind me, grabbing my boobs, pinching my nipples. I arched my back. It hurt but felt so good.

"You're going to be a good little slut for me?" Sero asked, his raspy voice standing out to me.

I nodded my head, fast. Sero was a very attractive guy, under the mask he had a cute nose ring on. I wish I could look at him as he pleased me, I hate these stupid fucking masks.

Within a blink of an eye Sero pushed my face into the sheets on the bed. My back was arched as my ass was in the air. His hand was holding my hair, making sure my face was down.

"I'm going to be the lucky one who gets to fuck you. Make sure you please the other guys too, I can't be too selfish," Sero stated, shrugging his shoulder.

"H-how do I do that?" I asked, turning my head so I can speak properly instead of making muffled noises in the sheets.

I could feel Sero rolling his eyes at me. "You're going to suck them off, stupid girl," he said.

How am I supposed to do that?! My face is in the sheets! "Uh… my face is kind of in the sheets right now…"

"Stop being a smart ass," Sero said, bluntly, taking his hand off of my head. He gave my ass a firm slap, annoyed by my comment.

I lifted my head up, wincing.

"You're going to keep you back arched," Sero ordered.

So needy… Ugh whatever, I looked at Kirishima and Denki. They sat down in front of me, pillows supporting their backs to sit up. Denki happily pulled out his dick for me. Kirishima still looked at me unsure. He just sighed, taking out his cock from his boxers as well.

Holy shit… Kirishima's dick was huge! It was huge in length and his girth was a perfect amount… I want this boy to be the one to fuck me! I looked at Denki's cock, his was big but not as big as Kirishima's I still like it though. He had a black little strip down there to match with his hair, I wondered if it's dyed or not.

"Go on babe, touch me," Denki said, placing his hands behind his head. His voice snapped me out of my thoughts about his hair.

I nodded, grabbing his cock, rubbing up and down. He was twitching at my touch. He let out a laugh, hitching his breath. I didn't leave Kirishima out though, I used my other hand to rub his tip and then go down to his shaft. He let out a whimper. His whimper made my stomach flutter.

"Don't forget about me," Sero said, grabbing onto my ass. I could feel his tip teasing my entrance.

"H-hurry up!" I urged. He kept teasing me, not putting his cock in. I felt my heart skip beats, anticipating to be filled up with his cum.

"Do you think… you could… Suck on it…?" Kirishima asked, seemingly ashamed for asking such a lewd question.

Without hesitation I placed my lips around his dick. My tongue swirled around his tip, earning a moan from him. I continued rubbing Denki with my other hand though, so he didn't feel left out.

Fuck! Oh my god…! Sero had slid himself inside me without warning. My walls clenched around him. He was so big!

"S-Sero!" I yelled, trying my best to keep my back arched.

Sero bucked his hips, going slow and deep. He knew exactly where to hit my good spots.

"Focus on us too!" Denki said, twitching in my hand. He liked seeing me get fucked by someone else. I tried my best to move both of my hands to please Kirishima and Denki but Sero's cock kept going deeper.

"You like that?" Sero asked, grabbing my hair. He pulled on it tightly. My walls clenched around his dick as he tugged on my hair.

"Y-yes!"

I kept trying my best to focus on Denki and Kirishima, rubbing their cocks up and down. I licked on them occasionally, making their dicks wet and sloppy so it's easier to use my hands on them.

"Wow y/n… this feels so good," Kirishima praised, letting out a whine.

"He's not wrong, keep this up and I'll be cumming soon," Denki said, with a smile on his face.

Kirishima's tip was throbbing, I could tell that he was getting close, his dick was probably more sensitive than the others.

I took my hand, my thumb grazing his tip as my hand went up and down his shaft. I could tell that sent him over the edge.

"N…No. Stop I'm gonna cum," he said, shutting his eyes.

I smirked, taking his tip in my mouth, sucking on it. I rubbed up and down as I sucked, feeling his balls start to tighten.

"Ah~ Stop! No, I'm cumming!" he announced, bucking his hips into my mouth. I could feel him warm cum shooting into my mouth. I tried my best to swallow every last bit. I continued sucking as he panted for air.

I turned to look at Denki, his eyes were widened when he stared at me taking Kirishima's cock. Without warning cum shot up on my cheek. It looks like seeing the way I took on his friend made him cum right then and there.

"Shit. I didn't even mean to do that…" Denki said, pushing his hair back. There was a little sweat on his forehead, he must've been very concentrated.

I could hear Sero laughing. "Good job, now I can have you all to myself. You boys are going to want to move," he warned Kirishima and Denki. The two boys got off of the bed, walking to wherever they pleased.

I was in for it, Sero grabbed my cheeks, pinching them. Shoto moved the camera to my face. "Smile for the camera, don't be rude," he added, forcing my face to make a smile with his hands as he pounded me from behind.

I tried my best to smile, I probably looked pathetic.

Sero stopped grabbing on to my face, instead he put his hands on my hips, bucking them on to his cock. It all felt too good, the knot in my stomach was so close to being undone. Every time he pounded me, I felt like I was seeing stars.

Sero continued going hard and slow. He picked up the pace though, signifying that he was almost ready to cum. Each time he slid into me I could feel my ecstasy being brought closer and closer to me.

He continued to fuck me, I moaned each time. I was getting close. I wanted to feel his hot cum inside me, I needed it to run down my thighs. I was already feeling so drunk off of this messy and sloppy sex. The thought of his cum made me tighten around Sero.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight right now. Are you gonna cum?" he asked, using one hand to rub my clit and the other to keep himself pounding into me.

The knot was being undone! I couldn't hold it in any longer. He just felt so good. He was rubbing me in all the right ways, there's no way I can stop now!

"Y-yes! Sero! I'm cumming~" I moaned, gripping on to the bed sheets.

He pounded harder and faster, gripping on my hair, grabbing right where my scalp is.

"I'm cumming!" he yelled, going faster.

I was seeing stars, I couldn't stop panting. I was twitching at this point. To top it off, I could feel warm liquid shooting inside of me. The warmth made me want to collapse onto the bed… It all felt too good. Sero pulled himself out of me, laying down next to me.

Shoto stopped recording, looking in his boxers. His face was red. He definitely came into his boxers. I let out a laugh, feeling the high of the sex I just had.

"That… was amazing, thank you guys…" I said, feeling myself drift to sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes open, my stamina was so low…

"Such a good girl,"

"Gonna do this again,"

Wait… Holy shit. I seriously just fucked multiple guys on camera. What the hell is wrong with me?

-

[steddieas-shegoes]

all mixed up

for @steddielovemonth prompt “love is the perfect mixtape’

rated t | 940 words | cw: brief mention of recreational drug use | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, fluff

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The silence in the car was stifling.

It was hot. Like, entirely too hot.

Steve was about five seconds away from taking his shirt off and dealing with Robin’s rolled eyes when Eddie, surprisingly, beat him to it.

The windows were down, but the radio was off, and sweat was dripping from every pore of their bodies onto the sticky leather seats of Steve’s car.

Eddie’s shirt was sitting on the seat next to him, and one of his hands was gathering his hair up so he could get some wind on his neck, not that the wind was any real help.

“What if we just all go to Robin’s?” Eddie asked when they were only a block away from her house. “Soak up some cool air.”

“Her parents are home,” Steve said for the fifth time.

“I don’t see the issue.”

“They think you were targeting me as the next victim,” Robin shook her head. “I don’t know how many times I’ve explained to them-“

“Fine!” Eddie said, too hot to bother listening or trying to argue. “But I swear we’re getting the AC in this car fixed tomorrow.”

“Oh, do you suddenly have $140?” Steve was met with silence. “Thought so.”

When Robin got out of the car, she slipped $20 into Steve’s hand. “For gas or AC, whatever.”

It was the first time Eddie had ever seen her give Steve any form of payment for rides, and probably the last going off of the way Steve’s entire face went from mildly uncomfortable to physical pain.

Eddie moved to the passenger seat and buckled up.

That was the biggest rule in Steve’s car: everyone wore seatbelts unless they were being chased by Upside Down creatures.

Steve backed out of the driveway once Robin was inside, and once again tried to flip the AC on.

Nothing.

“Why did this have to happen right before the hottest part of the year?” Eddie groaned.

“Just lucky,” Steve shrugged.

He should’ve taken his shirt off when he was in Robin’s driveway.

He pretended not to be distracted by the sweat glistening on Eddie’s chest, his skin flush pink from the heat. Steve pretended to not notice his newest tattoo, a nail bat that could have been identical to Steve’s real one under his bed.

“Oh!” Eddie suddenly said, nearly making Steve slam on the brakes or steer off the road. Maybe both.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot,” Eddie started to say as he reached through the backpack he had on the floor at his feet. “I made a…ah-ha!”

He held up a small rectangle, beaming over at Steve, who was too focused on driving to really see what he was holding.

“Uh. What is it?” He asked.

“It’s a mixtape! You were complaining about the kids stealing all your tapes and I thought I could make one for you,” Eddie opened the cassette case and shoved the tape in the tape deck. “I fit as much of what I knew you had on here, but there are limits to my magic so-“

“You seriously made me a mixtape of a bunch of pop songs?” Steve rolled to a stop at a stop sign, finally able to properly look over at Eddie.

He was pulling a lock of hair into his mouth, nervously looking back at Steve like he was unsure he’d done the right thing, like this was a test he hadn’t studied for and had a big chance of failing.

“I mean, I did throw in one of my favorite songs halfway to shake things up,” Eddie said nervously.

“You recorded fucking Blondie on a tape for me?” Steve asked incredulously.

“One song is Blondie, but-“

“And Tears for Fears?” Steve was still stopped in the road.

Eddie glanced behind them, ignoring the squeak of his slick skin rubbing against the seat. No cars, thankfully.

“Yeah, they’re on there.”

Steve put the car in park.

“Steve, you’re in the road, you can’t-“

“Shut up!” Steve turned completely towards Eddie, his face serious. “You made me a mixtape.”

“Yes and now I’m regretting mentioning it while you were driving.” Duran, Duran started playing and Steve let out a small gasp. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Do you remember when you told me that music was your love language? We were high and you said that you would give the person you love a mixtape to show you cared about them?”

He did say that. It was well over a month ago, when he and Steve had been sitting on his roof smoking, when Eddie had almost told him then how much he loved him. He’d held back, but barely.

“I…yeah, I remember.”

“And you made me a mixtape.”

“I did.”

“Eddie…”

“Steve…”

“Is this you telling me you love me?”

It wasn’t. Not intentionally. Not really.

But as expected, Steve saw through him, had a memory like a steel trap despite how many times he’d had his lights knocked out.

“You love me.”

Eddie was desperate to touch him, but the reminder of how hot it was, how much sweat was dripping off of him made him pause.

“When we get to your house, I’ll tell you.”

“What? Why not now?” Steve pouted.

Eddie fell harder.

“Because if I kiss you in this car, I’ll be mad about suffering in the heat longer. You have a house with AC and a cold shower." Eddie poked Steve's bottom lip back in. "I can show you if you hurry."

Steve took the car out of park and hit the gas, his perfect mixtape playing on the radio and Eddie laughing in the passenger seat.

[whumpay]

babe wake up new whumpay prompts dropped. like last year, im posting early for more time to prepare

Welcome to Whumpay 2024! Up above you will see the basic prompt list and down below the cut you will see it written out in a list, as well as three mini challenges (and by extension, the extreme edition)

Rules are the same as usual

You only have to use one (Or two, if you’re doing the extreme edition.) prompt a day! But you’re welcome to use multiple if you want to, and it still counts for both.

I know the description of the blog says it’s a writing event, but if you want to draw or make other kinds of content, that’s cool too.

Have fun, tag content warnings (such as noncon, graphic violence, etc) and try not to be crushed by the mortifying ordeal of posting your writing.

This is a pretty chill event so you can start posting whenever but I’ll be reblogging posts made to the #Whumpay2024 tag throughout May. For real this time.

These all also apply to these three special mini challenges, consisting of a 7 day, a 10 day, and a 14 day prompt list.

EXTREME EDITION: This year's extreme edition doesn't have its own prompt list, but instead, youll be taking all three mini challenges in order along with the main prompt list. Some of these fit pretty well, others less so.

1 - Mad Science:

Day 1: Strapped To An Operating Table

Day 2: Paralytic Drug

Day 3: Made A Lab Rat

Day 4: Vivisection

Day 5: Truth Potion/Serum/Spell

Day 6: Russian Roulette

1 - Attacks, Mental & Physical:   

Day 7: Heart Attack

Day 8:  Asthma Attack

Day 9: Animal Attack

Day 10: Panic Attack

3 - Ineffective Medical Care:

Day 11: Medical Torture

Day 12: Withholding Medical Treatment

Day 13: Medication Tampering

Day 14: Injury Brushed Off

Day 15: No Anesthetic

4: Mindfuck

Day 16: Presumed Dead

Day 17: Memory Loss

Day 18: Stockholm Syndrome

Day 19: Phantom Pains

Day 20: Love Potion/Spell

Day 21: Role Reversal 

5. Nature's Revenge

Day 22: Slowly Running Out Of Air

Day 23: Natural Disaster 

Day 24: Struck By Lightning

Day 25: Snowed In

Day 26: Heatstroke

6. Traps & Trauma

Day 27: Caught In A Net

Day 28: Traumatic Touch Aversion

Day 29: Used As Bait

Day 30:  Flashbacks

Day 31: Choose Who Lives

Mini challenge #1: Torture

#1: Tortured For Information

#2: Whipping

#3: Branding

#4: Begging To Be Killed

#5: Recorded/Broadcast Torture

#6: False Execution

#7: Shock Collar

Mini Challenge #2: Dialogue

#8: “Why are you doing this?”

#9: “Don’t look.”

#10: “You look awful.”

#11: “Who did this to you?”

#12: “No one is coming for you.”

#13: “No one cares about me.”

#14: “Don’t lie to me.”

#15: “Stay with me, please.”

#16: ”You’re scaring me!”

#17: “You’re a monster.”

Mini Challenge #3: Aftermath

#18: Fighting Against Caretaker 

#19: Seeking Revenge

#20: Taking The Blame

#21: Barely Conscious

#22: Disassociation

#23: Carried To Safety

#24: Scars

#25: Unhealthy Codependency 

#26: Infected Wound

#27: Survivor’s Guilt

#28: Touch Starvation

#29: Abandonment Issues

#30: Cradled In Someone’s Arms

#31: Adrenaline Crash

Alt Prompts:

Death Game

Came Back Wrong

Attack The Injury

Healing Malfunction

Left For Dead 

Mistaken Identity

Dazed

Trapped Under Rubble

Drowning

Disowned By Family

Hostage Situation

Have fun everybody!

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

PORN ☆

Dominic Fike x Reader

porn star reader!

[warnings: smut, p in v, drug usage(both), reader might be a lil brat, like one use of (y/n), 'recording' sex, dom Dominic, degrading but with love, daddy kink]

[modern day Dominic I just want yall to know that.... bc he is so fine 😋]

[not proof read sorry in advance for any mistakes]

-----

To say you were proud of yourself would be an understatement.

you've always known you wanted to be in the entertainment industry, so as soon as you turned eighteen, you started stripping. you worked all the time, never spending the money you made because you lived at home with your mom. you focused on learning, if anything.

learning what men liked to hear so they'll spend money, but mostly learning about yourself. and what did you learn? that you were in love with entertaining, you loved shaking your ass and having people throw money on you, being the center of attention. having eyes on you.

When you turned nineteen, you took all the money you saved up and moved out. still dancing you started exploring more, finally losing your virginity and finding out you loved sex. cumming was literally the best thing you ever experienced.

you decided to start a twitter for fun, just posting videos of you shacking your ass at first.

you built a following over the year when you decided to move to California. you weren't really in the middle of the city, but you were close enough to still get action. you made some friends and on your 20th birthday they took you out to a club, were you had the best idea to start an only fans.

that night when you got home you ran to your bed and opened your laptop made an account and uploaded a video by the next morning. cumming at least three times before you tapped out.

this lead you to where you are now.

you've made a name for yourself in the porn industry while mostly making solo content. sometimes you'll connect with other porn stars and make videos, but you tend to stick to making videos by yourself.

you've completely stopped dancing and live as a full time porn star, even moving to other platforms. you love it.

it wasn't even about the money, honesty you were just a slut. you fucking loved cummming all the time. you loved it even more when you knew people were paying just to get off to you cumming. you especially loved the way people fucked you when the cameras where on.

you just haven't found the person to fuck you the way you needed when they were off, which is why you tend to stick to solo content.

but enough about that lets talk about where you are now.

☆

which is running late as you scramble to get your heels on before searching for the bag you took out for this outfit.

finally done running to grab your keys off of the hook as you walk out the door. as you lock it your phone rings making you groan. 'hello' you breath out walking to your car. 'don't hello me where are you' your friend Dominic asks.

you and Dominic's relationship was special to say the least. you guys meet through Instagram about a year ago. he was heavily active in your comment section before moving to your dm's. he was cute so you entertained it. you guys hit it off quite well and became friends quickly moving to irl .

you've been cool ever since and your currently heading to one of his shows as we speak.

'im heading out the door right now' you answer locking your front door. 'you gonna be here in time?' he questions making you chuckle as you sit, getting comfortable and buckling, letting your phone connect to your car. 'yes I am, I'll be speeding so you'll see me earlier.' you reply as you back out of your driveway.

☆

speed walking to his dressing room not knocking as usual you see Dominic at his mirror smoking a blunt, he looks over to you. 'so I wasn't here earlier' you laugh as you put your bag down giving him a hug while he sat. 'at least you haven't gone on yet' you say giving him a kiss on the cheek taking the blunt from his hand before going to sit on his couch 'you good baby' he said.

re lighting his blunt, takin a pull 'stop calling me baby Dominic' you tell him. tilting his head as he smiled 'you really gon keep playing wit me-' he questioned just before someone knocked on the door, letting him know he needed to go on.

letting out a laugh before telling you ''you better pay attention to his performance'' before he left.

☆

after his concert yall went back to your place to roll up and chill. your in your pajamas sitting on the love seat that's on your porch. taking the blunt from his fingers as he handed it to you. 'when you think you making another video wit someone?' he asked sitting across from you. taking a hit of the blunt and inhaling before answering 'I don't know I gotta find someone to film with' talking another hit of the blunt before handing it back.

watching his lips as he inhales the smoke, licking his lips after exhales. letting your eye drop to his adams apple as he speaks 'why you keep doing this?' he aks with a smile, bringing your eyes back to his face 'doing what?' you question licking your lips. rising from his chair taking another hit as he walks to stand infront of you.

blowing the smoke into your face before asking 'why won't you fuck me' taking his free hand and tucking your hair behind your ear before gripping your chin and titling your head up. bringing the blunt to your lips as you inhale. you bring your legs down and squeeze your thighs together as you feel your pussy getting wet. 'keep going' he speaks encouraging you to take a big hit before stepping back and putting the blunt out in the ashtray.

your eyes low and slightly teary from the hit you just took you watch him as him moves. following him like a lost puppy as he walks into your house on a mission. 'what are you doing?'you question your a little dazed trying not to focus on your need to cum. like the strongest need youve ever felt, all from a touch and some words.

he walks into your room as you sit on the couch. you can hear him moving around, but you stay put until there's silence. he finally exits your room before speaking 'can I fuck you?' he bluntly asks making your jaw drop. standing in front of you '(y/n) I'm so serious I've wanted to fuck you since I se-' he starts before you cut him off 'yes'.

a beat of silence passes before your in his arms lips on his. one of his hands hosting you up while the other grips your hair. one of yours rests on the back of his neck while the other cupped his face.

grinding your pussy into him to get and friction he makes his way to your bed room.

tossing you onto the bed making you whine at the loss of contact he turns his back to you grabbing something.

'Dominic what ar-' you get cut of by him shushing you as he turned around revealing your camera. 'smile baby' he says. to which you happily comply. you absolutely adored being on camera whether it was posted or not. 'aw look at that the cameras on and the slut is comming out' he says laughing.

'get undressed for the camera' he tells you getting closer as you pull your tank top over your head letting your tits out. squeezing them as you made eye contact with Dominic 'aw that's so pretty baby'. you can feel your pussy dripping as you let go of your tits and sit on your knees pulling your shorts down and off leaving you in your underwear.

Dominic's finally infront lf you getting a good shot of your boobs as he gropes them with his free hand. 'fuck baby you make me so hard' he says moving the camera up to your face. you haven't even been fucked yet and you look like your sex drunk already 'fuck me daddy' you say as you take his hand off your boob and pulling it down to underwear letting him feel just got wet you are.

Dominic lets out a groan and a 'fuck' before taking his hand out and walking into your closet.

he comes back with the tripod and sets up the camera facing your bed.

coming over to you he takes his shirt off throwing it somewhere before stepping out of his jeans you lay on your back raising your legs to take off your underwear Dominic following suit.

he was hard as fuck and he has such a pretty cock. gripping the base as he lazyly strocked his cock looking into your eyes 'how you want me to fuck your first baby?' he asked grinning widely as you let out a whimper.

flipping yourself over to lay on your stomach and pushing your ass up and towards him before looking back 'is this okay?' you questioned...

gripping your ass with one hand looking down at you. he thought you looked so beautiful ass up, one arm stretched gripping the sheet your other lazyly played with your clit as he rand the tip or his dick between your folds.

tapping your hand on your clit with the tip of his dick. 'ask me to fuck you' he demanded.

'fuck me Dominic' you moan out.

stepping back, grabbing the camera. recording you laid out for him before re taking his position.

getting shots of him dragging his fingers through your pussy collecting your juices before turning the camera to face him and sucking you off of his fingers.

facing the camera back to you before he spoke 'put me in you baby' he said making you whimper grasping his cock from under you and guiding him to your entrance desperatly trying you put him in 'so big daddy' you whine.

Dominic puts the camera on his shoulder and pushs your hand out the way. your about to say something he grips the base of his cock and rams into you.

'FUCKKK' you moan out. feeling him so deep in you as you grind your hips back. 'God baby' tossing the camera onto the bed Dominic grabs your arms bring your back to his cheast.

slowly grinding into you 'dom the.. camera' you breath out as he slowly fucks into you. 'what about it?' he questions bringing one hand to your neck. 'it..fuck.' you moan out as he brings his other hand to your clit. 'i-it cant-t see us' you barley get out as he speeds up his thrusting.

'it was never recording' he says before heavily picking up his pace fucking deep into you. reaching places you've never been touched before.

you can hear Dominic's moans and even him whimpering behind you.

'fuckkkkkk' you moan out.

feeling the pressure building in you about to snap 'dom- fuck.. im gonna cum' you manage to whisper as he pounds into you from behind.

ypu doubt he heard you. with how loud the sounds from how hard he's thrusting combined woth the sloshing sound from how wet ypur pussy is. not even to mention Dominic's moaning.

'can I cum in you baby?'he questions picking up his pace. 'yes daddy please' you scream feeling the cord in you snap.

vision going white you come to, hearing Dominic talk.

opening up your eyes you see the camera in his hands.

'we gotta film the next one baby'

[peoplegettingreallymadatghosts]

What was the best thread you were ever in?

Not sure. Maybe the one where the guy had a locker full of body parts. Or the Battle of /pol/ Harbour. There was the one where /lgbt/ was convincing a girl to leave a nightclub where an abusive couple were feeding her drugs (it worked, might have been fake ofc). I caught a few Dinotendies threads but not the really wild ones, and joined in /v/ the musical threads a few times (not the cringey gamergate one, fortunately). I don’t know if my voice ever got used though bc I had an absolutely terrible sound recorder at the time

I unfortunately missed many of the true greats though.

I quite liked the old urbex threads on /x/ (and some other boards); I might consider those some of the ‘best’ because they were actually measurably real things where people went outside and did cool stuff in real life that was hard to fake. As opposed to, y’know, artistic works of fiction and falsehood, as the saying goes.

[aylasology]

Oh Pretty Woman~

70s!Rockstar!Robin x Groupie!fem!reader.

Rockstar!Robin (she's her own warning honestly).

Your high heels clicked, walking into the hallways of the apartment building as if it was yours. Crimson red lipstick and fur coat on. You were supposed to stop with the habit of getting with these rock stars, but there was something so different with the way this rockstar whispered into your ear before she left.

"L.A ain't the same without you, doll."

Robin. Robin Buckley. How could you forget? You were her pretty little drug, the girl wrapped around her finger, the princess she'd pamper and spoil whenever she was on the road. The girl that wasn't explicitly hers, and yet, the girl she lead on to believe that maybe she was more than just some groupie.

Your friend, a journalist who was simply following everywhere Hellfire went - where Robin went - stood by the front of the door, grabbing a pen and a notepad. He doesn't know anything about you and Robin, or the whole groupie thing, but you'd like to keep it that away.

"You ready to meet some cool people?" you asked him. Watching him straighten his jacket and hair. You found it amusing how he wanted to look so formal for a party, you shrugged it off. He only nods.

You weaved a sigh, opening the doorknob. Musicians, groupies, and a shit ton of strangers fill the apartment. It was a big place so to speak, music filling the room through a broken record player. For the rest of the night, you made sure to stick to your friend, a looking eye for him so that he wouldn't get drunk or "unprofessional" as he worded it. He said he was a journalist, but in truth, he really is just a young boy writing and fanboying over rockstars.

"Guess who's going on a motherfucking tour!" Eddie Munson, Hellfire's lead guitarist, yelled as he opened the door, bottle of wine in hand as he chugged. A hand is shoved to his face, pushing him away from the door. A boy tall and muscular walks into the door - Steve Harrington, the bassist of Hellfire waves to the crowd.

"Don't mind him, he's drunk." Steve chimed, pulling Dustin Henderson, their drummer, into the room. All three boys running and prodding towards the partygoers. Where's Robin?

And as the thought of her comes to mind, in flare jeans, and a graphic sleeveless shirt, Robin walks in. Leather boots long and fitted on her legs, sweat after tonight's opening act for some band they don't even remember the name of shined and slicked on her exposed arms, muscular and smooth. Her hair dishevelled and longer than the last time you saw her, the brown roots of her hair growing a little more. Heart-shaped sunglasses blocked the vision which were her blue eyes. Those goddamn eyes that could weaken you with a single glance.

"I'm not late am I?" Robin asked, smooth and slim fingers holding onto the rim of her glasses as she pushed it up to her hair. Her fingers tut with her hair, a playful chuckle erupting from her soft, glossy lips. She strides to the couch, hips swaying so effortlessly as she walked towards the rest of hellfire. Sitting down on the empty space between Eddie and Steve, manspreading as her arms slung around the two boys shoulders.

Your fingers gripped on the red cup you were holding. Your friend had a grin on his face, tugging to your coat as if it told you everything that he wanted the two of you to do : go closer to hellfire.

You look down on your cup, it's almost empty, a perfect excuse not to go near Hellfire - near Robin. "Why don't you go alone? I'll watch from afar." you chuckled awkwardly. Noticing now tense you were, without really knowing the reason why, your friend nods, leaving you alone with the crowd.

He waves over to the group, a toothy smile from Dustin in response. He lets your friend sit in the armrest of the couch, bickering over something you couldn't quite hear. A guy in the crowd goes over to you, talking about the band and all that stuff, responding to him with half hearted "mhms" and mindless nods.

But your eyes were focused elsewhere; focused on the girl scanning the crowd. The girl who's eyes, blue and deep, scanned the faces of the strangers in her apartment - as if she was looking for that one familiar face, your face.

And that's when eyes meet. Her eyes meeting your own. You could feel your heart skip a beat, a crimson hue arising on your cheeks. She was no guitarist, but she plucked on your heartstrings better than anyone could.

A smile tuts on her lips. That goddamn smile, a devilish glint in her eyes, her smile pursed into a smirk.

You looked down on your cup, empty. "I need to get some ice." You announce to the stranger who came up to you, running down the halls in search of an ice machine, in which you find in a small room.

You get in, and as you do, you hear the door swing shut.

Holy shit.

"I can't believe you actually showed up." She whispered, her breath against your neck, fingers sliding to grip onto your waist. You've never actually felt yourself melt before, but as you felt her fingers caress on the fabric of your coat you knew you were done for.

"When does it end?"

"What?" Robin cooed, her voice deep and low, a tone she's always reserved just for you. Her fingers move high up, planting them on your waist.

"This. The story about the girl who's wrapped around a rockstar's little finger and when she gets tired of being this rockstar's plaything she leaves. The rockstar sends her six...no..ten letters and doesn't even leave a backstage pass in San Diego." You replied, sliding her hands off your body. "Robin I've had enough. I'm done with this lifestyle. I'm done with you." You added, there wasn't much truth in your words as you'd like to believe yourself, and Robin didn't believe you at all.

She smiled. Why did she smile?

"Oh honey." Robin chuckled, fingers moving to grab your cup. "I say you're done with all this when I tell you are." She replied, grabbing ice from the machine. "And let me tell you, the day you're truly done, rock n roll's gonna miss you." You hear ice being tossed to your glass, daring not to look at Robin herself.

"It's gonna miss the way you turn a hotel into a home."

An ice cube thrown to your glass.

"The way you know every song. Every song. Even the bad ones. Especially the bad ones." A chuckle slips out of her plush lips. Another cube thrown to your glass.

"Coats and vests in the middle of summer." Another cube.

"Those pink lips and the way it giggles over every small compliment." Another cube.

"The way it fawns over me as if it's never been complimented all it's life."

Silence fills the room, your fingers brushing over a table. A lump in your throat. You feel warm hands on the grip of your waist, your cup left on the table.

"You're more than just some groupie, darling." She cooed, lips brushing on the flesh of your ear. "You're your own kind of woman." She said before turning you around to face her, pinning you up against the brim of the table. "You're my woman."

And before you could protest, she kissed you powerfully. Hands gripping on the edge of the table as if fighting to keep your hands off her. She pulled you closer, a smirk on the edge of her lips as a soft whimper slips from yours. A needy sound that could make her go ballistic.

"So loud for me already, huh?" She chuckled, pulling away. "I barely even touched you."

Fingers brush against your chin, making you look up at her.

"Come to Arizona, baby."

"Never." yes

She smirked. "We leave tomorrow. 9AM. And pack light this time, Jesus."

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶ Dreams were meant to die in small towns like Hawkins. No amount of hours bleeding on the balance beam would pull you out of poverty and turn you into the gymnastics star your mother wanted. Some days, when it was just you and Eddie hanging out in the field behind his trailer, or in his room; it didn't matter. But, one day, an opportunity presented itself, and it's one Eddie would never forget. Nor forgive. ✶

NSFW — angst, eventual smut, best friends to enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, drug/alcohol mention/use, disordered eating by proxy of parent, depictions of poverty

chapter: 1/15 [wc: 2.7k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 1: Eddie's Favorite Memory

——1979——

Alone in his room, Eddie plucked the worn strings of his cheap acoustic guitar along to the music playing through his stereo, learning the song by ear. Missing a few notes, he lifted the needle off the record and dropped it back in place at the beginning, but as he did so, another sound caught his attention.

Was today the day?

He raced to the door. The trailer shook as he went, rattling the beginnings of his father’s eccentric mug collection hung on the wall. He threw the screen door open with such vigor it smacked the aluminum siding and wobbled on its hinges. Up the unpaved street, dirt clouds trailed a car like the flaming wings of a chariot.

The red Ford Pinto rolled to a stop in front of his home, and much to his disappointment, it was only the mail lady driving with her leg straddling the center console to control the pedals and her arm stretched across to the steering wheel, nearly running him over. She didn’t say anything; she merely continued to chew her gum and motion for him to take the tiny cardboard box from her hand.

Eddie snatched it and read the label. “Maybe today won’t be so shit.”

She scowled. “Cool it on the cursing, kid.”

He waited until she reversed onto the main road and drove away to flip two glaring birds in her rearview mirror. “Whatever, bitch.” Excited to rip open his package, he shredded it down the middle and tossed aside the bubble wrap.

A gust picked up the rustling plastic.

Rocks crunched under car tires behind him.

“I can’t believe it actually came,” he spoke aloud with raised eyebrows. He opened the plastic casing and inspected the clear cassette, looking over the handwritten tracklist on the inside. Weighing it in his hand, he reasoned with himself, “I must not be tempted to listen to this before she–”

“Eddie!”

He nearly dropped the treasure he’d been anticipating since he met that weird old man at the flea market who swore Eddie’s $5 could get him a bootleg live recording of Pink Floyd’s Oakland concert from two years ago. Of course he paid and jotted down his address without a second thought.

“Eddie!” you shouted again, jumping out of the moving car because you couldn’t wait for your mom to park in the dead grass next to the trailer across the street. You scooped him into a bone-crushing hug, extending your back to lift him off the ground. At least, you thought you did, until his Converse nudged your toes, firmly on the ground.

He grew another damn inch.

Cackling at your pitiful efforts, he mocked you, “That’s what happens when you’re gone too long.”

“It was only a month,” you grumbled.

Eddie wrapped his arms around you, clasping his forearms across the span of your shoulders. Holding you tighter than he meant to since he was still regaining his balance..

No. He did intend to embrace you until you laughed in his ear, telling him it hurt.

It was unfortunate; the impending societal awareness that crept into every innocuous action, every clothing choice, every decision to buy nice-smelling shampoos, or forgo them in lieu of generic deodorant. It existed in his muscles tensing you against him. It spelled trouble in his sandy blond hair darkening, and the wispy growth above his top lip thickening. No one could point out the exact time in a young person’s life when it became inappropriate to hug your best friend, but he was on the cusp of discovering it with how your mother stared him down from behind your back.

Smoke billowed in front of her face. “Be back for dinner,” your mom muttered around the half-burnt cigarette between her lips. Grabbing her gaudy purse and empty beer can from the dash, she used her hip to close the door, and went inside to pass out on the couch for the rest of the day.

“Whaddya get?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked away his glare and separated himself from you, putting a significant distance between you. “Oh, ho! You have spotted my newest acquisition. Delivered by boat just this morn’.”

You pulled a grimace. “Talk normal, please.” Smirking, he flipped the cover of the cassette towards you. “Shit!” You covered your mouth. “Oops..” After a thought, you shook your head and relaxed your shoulders, knowing your mom couldn’t hear you out here. Still, you kept your voice down out of instinct. “Are you fucking serious? I’ve wanted to listen to this concert for so long; I can’t believe you just– Wait.. You don’t even like Pink Floyd that much. You said they’re too ‘soft.’”

“Yeah, but you like them.”

“But it’s your birthday.”

“Who cares?”

“Was it expensive?”

Again, he said, “Who cares?”

You scanned the rundown trailer park. “Uh, we do?”

Fluttering his fingers about, he waved off your incessant questioning. “What’s with the third degree? Are we listening to it, or not?”

“Duh,” you scoffed. You headed for his room, assuming you would play it on his tape deck, but of course, he had something else up his torn sleeve. You almost ran face-first into his outstretched arms stopping you from taking another step. “What now?”

“Wait out back in our spot. I have another surprise.. And you wouldn’t happen to have two double AA batteries, would you?”

~~~

After several minutes, and many, many, uses of the Lord’s name in vain later, Eddie found what he was looking for in his messy closet and bolted outside to meet you. He waded through an endless sea of wispy dry weeds parting the horizon from the deteriorating trailers to the edge of the woods where the top of your head poked above the grass. You gave him time to settle in next to you before you were laying down on the slope of the withered ditch littered with remnants of previous misadventures.

“Look,” he said. You opened your eyes to mostly a view of his ratty jacket overtop his Judas Priest tee. He flaunted the box over your face. “A gift from my old man. He thought I turned thirteen in June.”

You gave him a look. “A gift, huh?”

He opened the blue and silver metal Sony Walkman by slicing down the middle of the hefty price sticker with a pocket knife and bounced his eyebrows. “He got it for me the day it came out while you were gone.” As if it weren’t obvious, he wiggled his five fingers.

“I got it, Eddie.”

Clearly having a disdain for the environment, he lobbed the styrofoam trash amongst the other trash partially petrified in the mud; cigarette stubs, crushed cans, the odd broken plastic item, a bent butter knife, an old lighter, a pile of burnt magazine pages; truly random things. He placed the batteries in the Walkman, put in the tape, and scrolled the volume wheel all the way up.

Faint music played from the tiny earmuffs. He laid next to you, and without discussing it, he flipped the headphones upside down and you both rolled onto your sides, cupping one side each around your ears. Leaning your heads together to listen to the beginning chords of Pink Floyd’s Sheep.

In the early golden sunset, Eddie asked amongst the calm, “How was gymnastics camp? Learn any new tricks?”

“I landed a handspring front layout into a double twist.”

“I have no idea what that means, but I’m gathering it’s impressive,” he said, brimming with a toothy grin to match your own.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

“Will I be getting an invite to the Olympics?”

You rolled your eyes in a playful way; however, he perceived the flicker of resentment lurking in the background, and it was impossible to ignore how quickly your smile faded considering how close your lips were to his. “Like hell they’d come to some place like Indiana, much less Hawkins, to scout talent. They go to big meets in big cities. Doesn’t matter anyway, you know they don’t bother with people like us who can’t afford to keep the lights on at the start of the month, or whose water pipes smell like rotten eggs on the regular.” Not exactly a funny statement, but he snorted at the accuracy. With a defeated sigh, you turned onto your back and folded your arms across your chest. The hem of your tattered shirt slid against your leotard, revealing the shimmery fabric under the fading sky. “Besides, they want girls younger than me, better than me.”

“Damn. And I thought I was supposed to be the pessimistic one.”

“You’re right.” You gave him an apologetic look. “I’ll join the circus instead. Anyway, how was your summer?”

“Boring. We put together a song or three,” he said about his band. “Third one isn’t anything worth bragging about. It’s still in the jamming stage. Another session and it’ll be shaped into something presentable, maybe.”

“Nice, can’t wait to hear it.”

You bumped fists and resumed focusing on the concert playing in a suboptimal manner, of which neither of you could fully enjoy. It would’ve been easier to stay inside and play it over the stereo, singing along to the lyrics while you sat on his bed, and he on the floor. But inside meant being reachable by phone. Inside meant parental intervention. Inside meant being controlled.

Outside sucked, too. There were bugs, the grass was itchy, and a chill was creeping in. But no one could find you out here. This sanctuary belonged to you and Eddie. No one else.

In this substantial field, there was only space for you and him. Just you and him. Like always.

Coming to life at the end of a song, you jabbed his hand holding the Walkman. “Rewind it. Play Wish You Were Here again.”

“Jesus, corpses have warmer hands than you,” he hissed, obeying your request and hitting the rewind and play buttons. Then, he sat up and shrugged his jacket off, being gentle where he pulled at the cuffs due to the holes he’d worn in them. He dropped it on top of you. You opened your mouth, ready to refuse, and he shook his head. “You can keep it.” Keep it. Wear it often. Occupy yourself by snuggling into his warmth, because even in the pitch black night, he swore the stars would rat out his burning cheeks.

The Walkman clicked. The tape stopped whirring, at its end.

Holding shy eye contact in the sliver of moonlight, he laid back down.

Play it again.

Click.

Play it again.

Click.

Play it again.

The recording wasn’t a high grade one. It had static interference, there were loud thuds that scared the both of you the first time they happened, but.. This is where you wanted to be. Where he wanted to be. Propped cheek to fist, idly shoveling dirt with your fingers until your eyelids drifted closed. Obligations, anxieties, fears did not exist in the comfort of one another’s presence.

Click.

You interrupted the sleepy cricket’s song, “I guess it’s time for me to go home.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he whispered.

“She’s easier to deal with when I’m only two hours late,” you said, standing up, putting on his jacket. “Wanna come over for dinner?” Your sarcasm could be detected for miles.

“I have a box of stale cereal with my name on it, but thank you for the gracious invitation, oh Benevolent One.”

He performed a waist-deep bow. You curtsied.

Giggling, you walked away and promised you’d see each other tomorrow. “Bright and early, Munson! Maybe even before noon this time.”

“Ab-so-lutely not!” he yelled back, biting his lip to rid himself of the widest smile he’d had all summer. How could he not smile when you were back?

In fact, he couldn’t imagine a world in which he wouldn’t smile this big when you were next to him.

~~~

Daring to open the creaky front door, you knew not to expect the savory waft of cooked food, but the sting of alcohol in your nose was stronger than usual. More powerful than the usual rank mildewy smell of dust-covered garbage. The TV was blaring. Your mom was slouched into the corner of the couch; an opened six pack beside her and a bottle of spirits tilted in her hand. Her glazed over eyes were watching the news, though you suspected she was taking none of it in.

Your senses were on high alert. If you were quiet, meek like a mouse, you may be able to–

“Uh-uh.” Your body responded to her voice on instinct, closing the refrigerator. “No dinner. Not until your sets of fifty.” She snapped repeatedly and pointed at the middle of the floor where normal families had a coffee table. “Crunches, sit-ups, push-ups, whatever else Coach said. You looked sloppy next to that Level 10 girl, and it won’t happen again. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And take off that jacket. It smells like pot. People will get the wrong idea about you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

——1985——

As if your heart wasn’t in your throat already, your stomach churned and sank the moment you saw the Forest Hills Trailer Park sign.

Broken out in cold sweat. Wet palms struggling to turn the thin steering wheel towards the set of two trailers across from each other at the end of the lot. Shaking to the brink of exhaustion. You ran on black coffee and the pure adrenaline of almost hitting enough deer, it made you think twice about crying when Bambi’s mother died.

The car engine purred as you sat there thinking about why you were here again. Not a nice purr of a kitten, more like a sickly lion locked a zoo that needed to be put down a year ago.

Sucking in a breath, you decided to get it over with. You grabbed the white envelope in the passenger’s seat and stepped out into the sun, squinting. The stairs to the front door were concrete. An upgrade from the weathered wood they used to be. The screen door was missing–ripped off its hinges, so you knocked on the main one; it sounded hollow and metallic. Nostalgic in a way.

The knob turned.

“Oh, God,” you exhaled at the peephole.

When the door was replaced by someone other than the person you were expecting, you assumed your face painted in dread did wonders to alleviate his equally confused expression.

“Boy, I haven’t seen you in a long time, Girlie.”

“Mr. Munson!” You brightened upon seeing Eddie’s uncle. Relieved, actually. “How have you been?”

His grayed mustache lifted at the corners, showing off his teeth in a rather innocent way despite his gruff exterior. “Could be better, could be worse.” There was a deep grog to his voice, having just been disturbed from sleeping off his night shift at the plant. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”

“Yeah, is he here?”

He rocked his head back and forth as any guardian would when speaking about their miscreant nephew with a twinkle in their eye. “He should be in summer school right now, which is to say, he’s probably out getting into trouble. At the Hideaway, maybe? Or getting high with one of his friends, but don’t ask me where.” He sucked his teeth and crossed his arms.

“School?” you lead, an airy warble of optimism present in your voice.

Sighing, he delivered you the bad news upfront and honestly. “High school. He failed senior year.. again.”

Any hope he meant something different died. “Ah,” you said. “Well, uh.. Could you give this to him in case I don’t run into him?” You handed him the white envelope you spent far too long writing Eddie’s name on.

“Sure can.”

“Thank you.”

“It was good seeing you, again.. If you do run into him, I.. Well.” He paused to organize his thoughts. “Now, I don’t know what happened between you kids, but I hope you do find him.”

Taking his parting words as rather ominous, you nodded and hopped back in your Ford Pinto, beginning your search for Eddie.

[megamindsecretlair]

Do you write for Franklin saint? Maybe with him getting that stress relief??? Like I want him to be pussy whipped fr. (Feel free to ignore but your Franklin works are magical)

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!!!!

Stress Relief

AO3 Link!

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) multiple uses of n-word, kissing. No major spoilers for Snowfall.

Summary: During a stressful period at the end of season 3, Franklin is dealing with a lot of pressure from all sides. Between Leon popping off at the mouth and Manboy getting bold, Franklin is running around stressed. You feel bad. You want to help him. Even though it's hot as hell outside, you decide to do a little heating up at home to take the tension away.

Word Count: 2,434k

A/N: Whew! This got ME hot and bothered. I hope you enjoy! I'm also on AO3 now! Old dogs can learn new tricks! Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @nworbaij @nerdieforpedro

Fuck it was hot as hell in LA. You fanned yourself as you sat in front of the fan, titties out, trying to cool off. You wore shorts, though that did nothing for the sticky sweat between your thighs. Your braids were off your neck, resting on the couch cushion. LA has had some record heat waves, but this felt like one of the worst ones. The radio called for everyone to do their part for conservation. Sheeit. It was hotter than a devil’s draws outside. 

Franklin was going to be out all day, running errands with Leon. The mess between him and Manboy was stressing your man out and you were running out of ways to help him. Though you didn’t want anything to do with handling drugs, you tried to help in other ways. Counting his money, checking in on his mom and Alton, and holding down the house while he was away.

When Franklin got like this, it was best to get out of his way. It was tough for you to do because you were a helper by nature. You didn’t like seeing people in distress when you could do something about it. Sweets usually did it, but Franklin’s only vice was a nice glass of soda. 

You sighed, adding to the hot air blowing through the room. Sweat gathered on your skin, under your boobs, giving you a light sheen that was bordering on uncomfortable. You tried to distract yourself with ways you could help Franklin relieve some of that tension. 

It’d be easier if the mu’fucka just went on and had a drink. Everybody had something. 

Keys jingling made you lean around the couch to look at the front door. Franklin slid into the house, dark blue shirt clinging to his lean frame. You watched him move, tension in the set of his shoulders and his lips pressed together. 

“Hey baby,” you said. 

Franklin did a double take, looking around for you. You made a noise so that he knew to look on the floor, in front of the couch. His eyes landed on you and he gave you a smile. “What you doin’ here?” He asked.

“I wasn’t finna go to work in this shit. Probably should have for the air conditioning, but well. It’s too hot for all that,” you said and waved your hand. Thinking about air conditioning made you pay attention to how the heat rolled over your skin.

Franklin closed the door and walked over to the couch. He passed in front of you and sat down. He leaned over a planted a kiss on your forehead. Then he sat back on the couch with a loud sigh. 

“If anyone ask, I was over Rob’s last night,” he said.

You turned around to face him. “Okay. But where were you really?” You asked. 

Franklin’s head rested on the back of the dark brown couch, looking up towards the ceiling like it had the answers he needed. He licked his lips slowly. 

“Don’t you fix your lips to lie, Franklin Saint,” you said.

Franklin chuckled and it warmed you up to see him smile, even a little. You missed that damn smile on his face. Over the past few weeks, he’d been steadily growing more tired. The smiles didn’t come as easy. 

“You know I try to keep you outta this shit,” he said. 

“Too bad. How’d things go with Leon and Manboy?” You asked. He wasn’t ready to talk about last night and that was okay. For now.

Franklin leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, a grimace on his face. He avoided looking at you so he probably wasn’t going to tell the whole truth. Must be really bad. You knew he sometimes had to do things he wasn’t proud of. Things that would make his mama cry if she really knew. 

You weren’t so cavalier about the things he did but you understood him. Growing up in the hood like you both did, it was a desolate wasteland sometimes. It felt like there was a giant hand on your neck, keeping you down no matter how hard you worked to get out from under it. Franklin was only trying to even the playing field.

“I’m so sick of trying to get niggas to act right,” Franklin said. He stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

You grimaced. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned anything. “Leon so fucking busy worrying about Wanda, Manboy got the Crips on lock in Compton and Leon pushing in. Like cats and fuckin’ dogs with these niggas!” He yelled. 

You stayed quiet and let him vent. He was even more wound up than you thought. Had you ever seen him so worked up? It’d been so long since he was home long enough to have an actual conversation. Mostly, you talked in between his meetings and goings on. He’d page you and you’d find a few minutes to hurry and call before he scooted off again.

Matter of fact, it’d been quite some time since you had your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt bad, but as he spoke, you stared at his frame. At the hard lean to his shoulders when he was truly pissed. Sometimes, his walk turned you on more than his words ever could. 

You stood up, halting Franklin in his tracks. His eyes dropped down to your titties, but you took his hand. You silently led him to the couch, making him sit back down. “You’re stressed,” you said.

Franklin opened his mouth, but you placed a finger over his lips. “You’re stressed and running around with too much responsibility. Too many things on your mind, baby,” you said. 

He sighed and finally nodded, seeming to deflate completely. You moved your hand under his chin and lifted it. You planted a kiss to his lips. He groaned, leaning in to deepen the kiss. You pulled away, kissed his cheek, and leaned down to his ear. “I know how to get your mind right,” you softly sang. 

“What you got in mind?” He asked.

You smirked and sank to your knees in front of the couch. You eyed him as you went for his zipper and pulled. You moved his jeans and briefs down, until his hardening dick sprang free. You moaned at the sight of it, biting your lip as if you could already taste the salty taste of him. 

You lowered your mouth on him, taking your time to work him all the way in. He groaned as your mouth took as much of him as you could. You swirled your tongue around his shaft and then around his tip. Pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you moaned, swallowing him down.

“Fuck,” he sighed. He gathered up your braids into a tight ponytail. 

“You need some relief baby?” You asked around his dick. 

Franklin’s eyes were locked on yours. On the way that you smiled at him while sucking him back down. He nodded and pushed your head further. You slobbered on his dick, coating him with your saliva. Your wet, loud sucking battled with the fan blowing hot air across your back. 

Franklin slowly pulled you by your hair up and down and kept his eyes locked on his disappearing length inside of you. You let him go with a wet plop and then bit his thigh. He hissed and gave you a wild look. 

“I won’t break Franklin, you know that. You need some real relief? Fuck me then,” you said, giving him a challenging look. You dared him with your eyes. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. But his eyes were growing wider, breathing in creasing. Sweat made his dark skin glisten. 

You licked him from his balls to the tip of his shaft and he gasped. “You won’t,” you said. 

Franklin grinned and shook his head. “Fuck I do to deserve you, huh?” He asked. 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He licked his lips slowly, grabbed your braids tighter, and then pushed you down on his dick. He groaned, yelling a bit, as he fucked your mouth how he needed. You planted your hands on his thighs to brace yourself and settled in for the ride. 

You couldn’t resist teasing his tip whenever it ran past your lips. More pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you slurped that up. Drool spilled down your chin. You ran your tongue underneath his dick, tracing the hint of vein there. Franklin pushed his hips forward.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” he muttered. Not a second later, he shoved your head down and exploded in your mouth. His dick pulsed with hot cum shooting down your throat. You swallowed every last drop, breathing heavily. 

Franklin threw his head back with a groan, ragged gasps escaping him. He was so damn hot after he came. When his lips parted and his eyes were closed. That throat of his. His heaving breaths making his chest rise and fall so rapidly. 

You wiped your mouth clear of lingering drool. You moved to stand up, but Franklin caught your movement. He snatched you about the waist, and shoved your shorts and panties down. He pulled you onto his lap while he shoved his own pants down, further down his long legs. 

You straddled him and he moved his fingers to tease your clit. “You wet for me?” He asked. His voice was low and husky, sending tingles down your spine. 

“Yes, baby,” you said. Sucking him off made you so unbearably wet. Perhaps it wasn’t just him that needed stress relief. Being so worried about him caused its own little bubble of frustration.

His thumb traced circles around your clit while he captured your lips with his own. He kissed you like you supplied the oxygen he needed to survive. He nipped at your bottom lip before diving in for more. His other hand gripped your hip. Fingers digging in for purchase. 

You moaned into his lips. His finger worked magic on your pussy, pulling you closer and closer to the height of pleasure. Dripping onto his thighs, he moved his finger and circled his tip with your juices.

He rubbed his dick between your wet folds, gathering enough of your slick to push in without hurting you. You hissed as he breached your entrance. He kissed your neck, then down to your chest. He licked your nipple and then suckled it. 

“Oh-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The sweet bite of pain relaxed you enough to allow him inside. He pushed in deeper, working his hips until he was sliding in and out of you with ease. Your forehead dropped against his as you rode him. 

“Fuuck,” he moaned. Your breaths co-mingled, absorbed each other by being pressed chest to chest. Your sweat made you glide against his chest, his shirt the only barrier. You stole kisses in between moans, but you were too blissed out to stay connected for long. 

Franklin’s hands moved up to rub up and down your back and you sighed. You kissed his forehead. You were a hot mess at the moment. The smell of sex heavy and thick in the air. You didn’t care. He felt so good inside you. Like home. Like the most sinful heaven. Like sweet hell. 

Franklin pulled out and you groaned. You instantly missed him. He placed you on the couch and he stood up. He grinned and pulled off his shirt. He soaked through it with sweat. He kicked off his pants, leaving him in his naked glory. 

You admired the length of his body, licking your lips at the sheer beauty of him. He pulled your hips and flipped you over. You got to your knees, placing your hands over the back of the couch for leverage. 

He grabbed your hips and shoved in with a low, rumbling moan. “Oh fuck!” You screamed. You gripped the back of the couch, nails digging in while he hit it from the back with a bruising, punishing pace. 

Your ass smacked on his thighs and he grunted with every stroke. “Oh fuck, fuck that pussy, baby,” you moaned. “Beat this pussy up!” 

Franklin groaned, seeming to go deeper or stroke harder according to your demands. “Needed this. Needed you,” he croaked. 

“Needed you tooooo,” you moaned. You dropped your sweaty forehead to your forearm, indescribable pleasure overtaking your whole body. Like you were weightless. Jointless. Like you could fall apart at any moment and his dick could stitch you back together. 

“Niggas don’t fuckin’ listen. But you do, don’t you baby?” Franklin asked.

“Yes, baby, I listen,” you cried out, nodding though you weren’t sure if he could see it. He grabbed hold of your braids again, yanking your head back. Your back bowed as he entered at a new angle, dragging the tip of him across a deep, sweet spot that made you scream.

You came, body and limbs shaking uncontrollably. Franklin continued to pound inside of you, grunting and oblivious that your world was splitting apart atom by atom. 

“Oh fuck, baby. This pussy yours, baby,” you managed to eke out in between moans. 

That lit a fire under Franklin. His fingers gripped your sides harder, his strokes got deeper, and his moans bounced off of the walls. He growled as he came, hot, pulsing jets of cum that stuffed you to the brim. 

Your legs turned to jelly and you collapsed across the back of the couch. Franklin’s quick breaths fanned across your back. Your body still shivered, aftershocks from such a rough and deeply satisfying fuck. 

Franklin’s hips stilled deep inside, keeping you plugged up with his cum. He dropped forward, pushing you into the couch. You looked back at him and he smiled sloppily at you. 

“You know just how to take care of me,” he whispered. 

You smiled, groaning as he slipped out. His cum slipped out after and he disappeared from behind you. You heard water running and then he was back, wiping you down with a cool washcloth. 

You sighed as the cool cloth hit your overheated skin. When he was done, he plopped the towel onto the coffee table and then joined you on the couch. Despite the heat, you burrowed into his embrace, throwing your legs over his. 

He rubbed your arm while you played with the tiny hairs on his thighs. He kissed your forehead. “Fuckin’ love the shit outta you,” he said.

You leaned up to look at him in his beautiful eyes. “Love the shit outta you too.”

Plenty more of Franklin to go around! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 7th

Day 7: Anonymous Sex, Nonconsensual, Somnophilia

Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sex clubs, offers of blowjobs, voyeurism, masturbation, anonymous sex, protected sex, riding, slight tit play

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The case had sent him down a rabbit hole of sex, drugs, money and murder. Taking him to the seediest places in town and talking to some of the most disreputable types. Following lead after lead, casing any scrap of information down so he can put the criminal behind bars. 

The club had intrigued him. It scared him how much, although he had pretended to not be interested when scantily clad women jiggled their tits in front of him and asked him if he wanted a blow job. They weren’t hookers, he wasn’t going to bust them for solicitation. This was a sex club. 

Sitting hunched over his desk, Tim stubs out another cigarette and reaches for his pack. Last one. The smokey din of the office irritates his eyes, but he needs the nicotine. Or maybe he just needs to sleep. 

Not that he would get any. The case would be playing in his mind, over and over again, like a silent record on repeat as he subconsciously looks for any clue that he might have missed on first glance. It’s why he runs on stale coffee and bad bodega sandwiches. 

Lighting up the cool menthol cigarette, he takes a drag as he stares at the card propped up against his desk phone. He should have thrown it away, or refused it in the first place, but he had shoved it in his jacket pocket, telling himself he would never use it. It was a pass. A card for one visit without a membership. A test drive, as the owner had told him, the smirk on his face one that had made Tim shuffle uncomfortably. Like the guy could see through the detective’s professional exterior and  see what he had really wanted to do while he was asking routine questions. 

Sighing, he rolls his head, feeling his neck pop and lets out a quiet groan. The clock on the wall says that it’s too late to get anything decent to eat, and yet it was still too early for Tim to go pass out on his little bachelor apartment sofa. The bed was too big and lonely since Babs had left him. Or, more accurately, kicked him out. 

Flicking the ashes into the nearly overflowing tray, Tim puts the cigarette between his lips and picks up the card, looking at it carefully as if it were a clue itself. The shiny gold lettering is pretty, professional. Even if what is for wouldn’t be considered that in some circles. 

A test drive, a trial run in a sex club where the only thing that matters is that someone consent. Everything was apparently on the table if the other party was down. He had cleared his throat several times when he had walked by the glory hole stations, the prim suit and tie types on their knees with cocks in their mouths. Nothing wrong with it, especially since the best part of the club was that it was anonymous. No names, no faces. Everyone wears a mask. 

Jumping when the filter starts to burn his lips, Tim realizes he’s been staring at the card for so long the cigarette has completely burned down. Crushing it out and shaking his head as he licks his lips, the jolt to reality makes up his mind. Pushing away from his desk and standing straight, reaching for his jacket and tucking the card into his pants pocket. He’ll leave the badge and the gun in the car when he gets to the club. Tired of the idea of being alone, he wants to see what it’s like to experience it as a visitor, telling himself he might find another lead. 

****

It’s a nondescript building that looks even gloomier during the nighttime is now in front of him. The covered door mocking him and he heard the faintest sound of music. Wondering if they turn the music up to cover the moans and sometimes screams of the members. 

Once he’s inside, the card is taken away and he is shown to the locker room so he can strip down to nothing and put on the demi-mask that had been provided. Plenty of members brought their own, but there were plain black ones like the one provided. 

It’s jarring, slightly embarrassing to be naked except for a mask, but it’s also freeing. He can be whoever he wants tonight, do whatever he wants. Walking out of the room into the main area of the club, he can feel eyes on him. Assessing, perhaps speculating on who he is, or what he’s there for. 

****

You spot him from across the room. Lazily lounging as you rub your clit, watching the couple beside you as they pleasure each other with their mouths. Catching your attention as he adjusts his mask and then reaches down to adjust his hardening cock, only to remember that he wasn’t wearing any clothes to adjust. A newbie. 

You smirk as you pull your fingers away, sliding them into your mouth as you stand and your left hand slides along the woman’s hip and you tap it appreciatively as you move away and start to slowly walk up to the man as he looks out over the small weekday crowd. 

“Hey, handsome.” You watch as he turns towards you, apparently distracted as you walk up. Eyes widening behind the mask as he looks you up and down, shuffling his feet slightly and the fact that he is just as naked as you are means he can’t hide the way his cock twitches and bobs as he takes you in. “Me? Uh, I mean, hi.” 

Oh he’s sweet. You smirk slightly as you reach out and touch his arm. “Are you looking for something special or just taking it all in?” You ask, wondering what he thinks of this. He’s obviously here for the first time, and you want to guide him if you aren’t the person he would be interested in. 

“I don’t - I’ve never-” He shakes his head and gestures around. It’s endearing and you can see that he’s truly overwhelmed. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” You ask, giving him a simple question to answer, yes or no. 

“Yes.” His answer is rushed out, almost incredulous as if he couldn’t believe that you would even ask that question. 

“Perfect.” Your hand slides down to his and you take it to guide him towards the couches. “Do you want to be alone, or do you want others to watch?” 

HIs hand squeezes yours as he contemplates before he clears his throat. “Out here is good.” 

Leading him over to the black leather sofa, you urge him to sit down, moving to straddle him as he leans back. “So, is there anything that you really want?” You ask quietly. “Or do you just want to cum?” 

“I want you to cum too.” His hands are slightly unsure, light on your hips and he slides them up your back experimentally. “I - uh, regular sex I guess?” He gives a self deprecating laugh. “Do you - would you want to ride?” 

His cock is thick and gorgeous, laying trapped between his body and your cunt. The head of it mushroomed perfectly and you would love to suck it one day. “I would love to ride that cock, handsome.” You hum, leaning in to kiss his chin and then slowly work your way towards his mouth. Some have rules about not kissing and you don’t want to rush him if that’s not something that he would like. 

Instead of turning his head away, Tim turns into the kiss, desperate for the physical contact that he has been missing for such a long time. He doesn’t know your name, but it doesn’t matter right now when his lips are pressed against yours. 

When initial contact is broken, it never takes long to get to the sex. The bowls of condoms are on every table that isn’t occupied by a body. Always within read and you snag one even while the man’s tongue slips into your mouth to tear open. Doesn’t matter how handsome he is, you aren’t willing to risk your health. He groans when you take his cock, rolling the rubber down his length and pumping it a few times. 

You’re still kissing when you lift your hips, sliding his cock into position to sink down on it. Both of you moan as you take him deep into your body. Groaning when your ass touches his thighs and you circle your hips a few times experimentally. 

“Oh shit.” He pants, breaking off the kiss and starting to move his mouth down your neck and over your chest. 

He likes it, if the way that he’s twitching deep inside you is anything to go by. Both of you adjust to the feeling before you start to ride him. It’s slow to start, up and down and grinding down on him, squeezing him when you do. His hands start to become a little bolder. Racing over your spin and hips, squeezing your ass and then up to your breasts. 

That’s when you get a little quicker, bouncing on his cock. It’s such a good cock, you enjoy the way it stretches you out and fills you every time you fall onto it. Making you moan out wordlessly. It’s not like you have a name you can call out. 

“Oh fuck, it’s so- fuck, you’re so hot.” He starts to ramble right before he leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth. Making you whine since you love when attention is given to your tits. 

“So are you.” You pant out, enjoying how he is biting and sucking on your nipple, taking cues from your reactions and pulling away from things you don’t react as strongly as the other things you obviously like. “Fuck, I love your cock. It’s so thick.” 

He twitches inside you, groaning at the praise and he starts to rock his hips up to meet your thrusts. Both of you chase your pleasure with increasingly unbridled enthusiasm. 

You know people are watching, you enjoy the idea but your focus is on this stranger that is currently starting to rearrange your insides with every rough thrust up into you. Bracing his feet on the ground and using that leverage to make sure you feel every inch of him. 

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck!” Your eyes blow wide behind the mask, body locking up in his arms as your cunt clenches down around him. Feeling the ultimate bliss as pleasure courses through you. Taking your breath away and making you collapse against his chest and press your lips to his. 

For him, apparently your orgasm triggers his own. Only thrusting into you, pulling your hips once more before he is groaning into your kiss. You feel the heat of the condom being filled inside you as he throbs deliciously against your wall while he rides out his orgasm. 

Catching your breath after a moment, you lean back and smile at him. “See you next time, handsome.” You hum, placing a soft kiss on his hips and lifting off his cock so you can make your way to the restroom to clean up. You have a feeling as you look over at your shoulder at his slumped, dazed posture, this man would be back. 

[loremaster]

CHAPTER 1 - Man Door Hand Nail Fur Door (Comic)

...aka the Zilara manifesto.

(tw: strangulation, suggestive themes) BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

Yakou tells Yuma to go to the hotel and corral all the other detectives who have been sleeping soundly in the nice fancy rooms over there. Yuma, who got 3 hours of sleep on Yakou's creaky couch, says "Okay, sure thing, Dad." ((side note - wouldn't the train detectives have had rooms reserved at the hotel? Couldn't Yuma have had one of those?))

Instead of agreeing to meet up, they all send poor little Kokohead around the city doing side quests.

Pucci wants to know if Kanai Ward has any good symphonies; recordings of classical music are all well and good, but it's no substitute for the acoustics of a live concert hall. Closest thing Yuma can find is Aetheria Academy's chamber orchestra program. Musicians in Kanai Ward used to be part of a larger regional symphonic orchestra, but since Amaterasu locked off the city, they've had to resort to busking. Pucci seems disappointed, but resigns herself to checking out the high school girls' next concert anyway.

Aphex is cruisin' for a bruisin'. He spotted some suspicious movement in one of the districts on his radar (drug deals?), but every time he goes to check it out, he can't find out which people in the crowd are the suspicious ones. They must be afraid of Aphex's intimidating appearance, so Yuma goes in his stead to grill the people hanging around the square. Turns out they weren't dealing drugs, they were passing around anti-Amaterasu propaganda. They beg Yuma not to tell Aphex. Yuma goes back to the hotel to tell Aphex... who thinks anti-fascist action is cool, actually, so no need to do anything about those guys.

Melami wants to know about the local fashion scene, and is very curious about the dronebrellas she's seen around Kanai Ward. She sends Yuma to see what the big deal about them is, and once there, he gets roped into a long winding sales pitch for technology he can't afford. He relays as much of this as he can remember back to Melami, but once she hears they only come in one color, she decides she's not interested. What's the point if you can't customize it? Just get a regular umbrella. Or a rain coat. That's a much better way to show off your personality! Yuma tries not to scream about how much time he just wasted.

Zange shows Yuma a picture he took (with his mind) of a specific location in Kanai Ward, but can't quite remember where it was. Yuma has to go on a scavenger hunt to find the place that matches the picture and tell Zange how to get there. Zange assigns Yuma a numerical score based on how long it took him complete the quest (which is always too slow). This will be a repeatable quest/minigame with different locations every time.

As Yuma is about to leave the hotel, Zilch stops him. He offers a more formal introduction (since, you know, they didn't actually meet aboard the train) and volunteers (insists) to accompany the poor useless trainee as a senior detective, to show him how it's done.

Zilch has four animal companions with him at the moment: three caged mice and a dog named Bosch.

He doesn't seem to treat them very kindly, though. He isn't careful handling the mice's cage, and he orders Bosch around like one would speak to Alexa.

Anyway, Zilch and Yuma go look for the last remaining detective, Halara Nightmare. Canon ensues.

They run into The Boy and accept the quest to investigate the Nail Man murders. Halara needs some convincing.

At the church, Zilch makes a new friend, or so he thinks.

Zilch tactlessly asks the nun if her ears are natural or not, and starts bragging about how well his own surgery went. For the ears and tail, that is. The Nun doesn't like Zilch's attitude one bit. She watches him use his mice for spying and gets freaked out. The nun threatens to kill Zilch but he doesn't think she's serious.

Zilch says that he didn’t expect there to be a Metal Fox Church here, of all places. Yuma asks him to elaborate, and he says they’re a denomination that exists elsewhere in the world. The church near where he grew up was much larger and more spectacular than this one. The Metal Fox is a deity known for its fortitude and cunning, that offers protection from “hunters,” or persecution of any kind. Zilch doesn’t seem to believe in its teachings at all. #atheistpride

Meanwhile, the dog, Bosch, sniffs around and seems agitated by something. He can place the smells of all the church NPCs around the scene, but there's something else, too. Zilch barks the order - literally - for Bosch to track whichever scent doesn't belong, and the dog goes off on a solo mission.

Zilch has a plan to catch the Nail Man red-handed, but he won't tell what it is yet. He needs to prepare some stuff. So in the meantime, Yuma and Halara hold hands at several different crime scenes.

While Shinigami keeps blabbing about stripping detectives, Halara fucks off to who knows where and Yuma returns to the church to meet with Zilch. Zilch leads Yuma to the nearby woods and reveals his master plan to lure out the Nail Man by taking a doll with a slip of paper on it to the forest, and writing the name of someone for the Nail Man to kill...

"Yuma Kokohead," of course.

Yuma is terrified of being used as bait, but Zilch promises he'll intervene before the Nail Man can actually kill him, it'll be fine. So Yuma the pushover gets tied to a tree...

Halara unmasks the cloaked figure to reveal the priest of the Metal Fox Church, as they suspected. The priest begs for mercy - he was only trying to protect the people of Kanai Ward by purging it of corruption (and letting an innocent man take the fall for it)...!

Yuma thinks he might not have to rely on Shinigami's powers this time, but then...

Bosch leads them back to the church where Seth and his Peacekeepers are threatening Yakou.

And with that… it’s Mystery Labyrinth time!

Zilch’s voice is back to normal inside the Labyrinth. He seems oddly relaxed around Shinigami - because he insists this is not real and actually a dream. #atheist4lyfe

Yuma deduces that Zilch's name was written in the woods by the nun. She witnessed Zilch’s mistreatment of his animal companions and tactless assholery - but the thing that pushed it into murder territory was actually her recognizing the crest of the Alexander family on his fur coat. The full truth comes to light - the Alexanders have been known for generations as prolific trophy hunters. They “live alongside nature,” sure, but it’s a heavily controlled and subdued “nature.” This is antithetical to everything the Metal Fox Church stands for, so the nun, devout to her faith, believed Zilch to be an invasive threat to their way of life, and the peace of Kanai Ward.

And, since this revelation is taking place in the Mystery Labyrinth, of COURSE she gets a cool Mystery Phantom.

The gang also, like, solves the actual mystery.

Then once they find all the evidence they unmask the true culprit and his copycat, and the Priest's and Worshipper's souls are reaped.

Zilch is horrified. Somehow he didn't expect this was actually going to affect reality. Shinigami assures him that he won't remember any of the Mystery Labyrinth anyway, so...

Aaaaand eventually they do leave the Labyrinth. Halara is back to their usual steely exterior.

The masked priest in front of them drops to the floor dead. A scream from the church can be heard, presumably because the worshipper has just done the same. They go to check it out.

Then… Yomi shows up. He intimidates the group and doesn’t seem to deem any of the detectives worth his attention… until he notices Zilch.

Shinigami wonders if he recognized the Alexander family crest... but Yuma makes the connection and realizes Yomi might have had some sort of connection to the impostor on the train. That's pretty scary to think about. Was this the guy who tried to kill off all the Master Detectives coming into Kanai Ward? He seems dangerous...

Good thing Yomi has a devoted right hand to play around with. In front of everyone.

But anyway, regarding the Nail Man situation, Yomi decides to throw Seth under the bus, and punish him accordingly.

Bye Seth! Or should I say... Steve. :noes:

After his near-death experience, Zilch has a change of heart and decides he doesn't need a fur coat after all (seeing as it almost got him killed). Halara accepts it as payment for their services solving the case.... at least Zilch's half of it - Yuma still owes them a small fortune.

And with that the day is saved. Yuma plays a bit of baseball. Halara has a comfy new bed for their beloved strays. And Zilch... has a lot to think about.

-----

HELLO BOBA FANS!!! Thanks for your patience waiting for this update! I hope you can tell I've been working on this very hard (in between assignments for cartoon college)! The post didn't even fit all the images I made for this chapter - I'll be sure to post the other ones separately. At some point.

This chapter was an interesting challenge to write, trying to hammer down Zilch's character - how to make him distinct from his impersonator, but similar enough to lend credit to the impersonator. It took a while but I think I've finally landed on a solid backstory. I'll be posting more about him in the next installment of Boba AU - Zilch's Gumshoe Gabs. Then after that will be Chapter 2! Super excited to rub my gay little hands all over that one.

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, then please... I beg of you... draw me some Zilara ;_;

BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis

I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.

Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).

So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).

Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).

There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.

The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.

I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.

Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.

Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.

Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!