#i don’t think anything has driven me this insane

[kodirox]

this woman is making me SICK

[fireinmoonshot]

the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

[devilishdelights]

goodnight everbody :)<3

[coffeebeanwriting]

15 Writing Tips from Authors

1) “You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are.” - Joss Whedon

2) “First, find out what your hero wants, then just follow them.” - Ray Bradbury 

Coffee bean’s analysis: Letting your characters lead the story can result in an authentic, character-driven story, full of real conflicts and natural emotion.

3) “Turn up for work. Discipline allows creative freedom. No discipline equals no freedom.” - Jeanette Winterson

4) “Show up, show up, show up, and after a while the muse shows up, too.” - Isabel Allende 

Coffee bean’s analysis: In order to write or eventually share your story with the world, you have to sit down and do the work, even if your brain is empty. Once you show up, the creativity has a chance to spark.

5) “All bad writers are in love with the epic.” - Ernest Hemingway

6) "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." - Leonardo Da Vinci

Coffee bean’s analysis: Being able to turn a complex idea into simple words is harder than one might think— but can elevate your writing. Not everything needs to be epic or overly flowery.

7) “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life.” - Anne Lamott

8) “I went for years not finishing anything. Because, of course, when you finish something you can be judged.” - Erica Jong

9) “Don’t write at first for anyone but yourself.” - T.S Eliot

Coffee bean’s analysis: Perfectionism will kill any chance you have at having fun and finishing your novel. Let go of that pressure of being perfect and do not worry about being judged. Write for you.

10) “Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.” -Henry Miller

Coffee bean’s analysis: Don’t overwhelm your schedule with trying to write a ton of projects at once. Focus your energy into one (or two) at a time.

11) "A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it." - Edgar Allen Poe

12) “Every sentence must do one of two things— reveal character or advance the action." - Kurt Vonnegut

Coffee bean’s analysis: Even if you’re writing a novel, this advice is brilliant. Whether it’s a sentence, paragraph or whole chapter... make sure they are meant to be in your story. Keep your scenes tidy and thematic, building towards something.

13) “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” - Anton Chekhov

Coffee bean’s analysis: When writing a novel, give your reader details so that they can picture the scene in their head. Don’t do too much telling (though it has it’s places).

14) “It is perfectly okay to write garbage— as long as you edit brilliantly.” - C.J Cherry

15) “If it sounds like writing … rewrite it.” - Elmore Leonard

Coffee bean’s analysis: Allow yourself to write messily and worry about editing later. Once in the editing phase, if your writing sounds stiff, rewrite it so that it sounds natural.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting  

[eggyrocks]

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter five -> the move

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 3.8k

now playing: school shooter by wych elm

warnings: this chapter is heavy with discussions of abuse, violence, other themes already discussed in this story, divided this last chapter in two parts and this is going to be the angst before the happy ending. when i say angst i mean angst. rest assured happy ending is coming tho

Her well-organized list of problems has been upended. A bright, shiny new problem has outshone all of her other ones, dimming them, displacing them, reducing their need for attention.

Problem #1: Iwaizumi Hajime, neighbor, definite arms-dealer, maybe boyfriend, has been arrested.

It’s hard to get people to listen to you in a police station. Cops sit at their little desks and they look at you like they’re pretending to pay attention to what you’re saying but really, all they can think about is how much better than you they think they are, and how little they care about your problems.

Matsukawa has a hand over her shoulder, not firm but not lose, like he’s ready to pull her back down to her feet if she leans too far over the front counter. She’s trying to appeal to the lady behind the front desk, (as if there’s anything she could actually do), voice raw and shaky, knuckles going white as she grips at the edge of the counter.

“Please,” she begs, her unhidden desperation feeling out of place in the clean station, where the smell of hand sanitizer and pine floor cleaner is heavy in the air. It’s far too bureaucratic for her to be like this; reduced to a pile of tears and snot, begging and pleading and being ignored like a small child throwing a fit. “He didn’t do anything to me. This is fucking insane, lady.”

“Honey,” she says, voice slathered in condescension, like she knows. Like she knows Iwaizumi’s been treating her like shit this whole time and she’s just been too stupid to realize it. Like she knows what’s best for her just because she sits behind the front desk at a police station for eight hours five days a week for semi-not shit pay and a pension. “If you want to help your boyfriend, the best thing you can do is get him a lawyer, okay? Yelling at me isn’t going to help. They can hold him for forty-eight hours, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

God, she wants to reach over this fucking desk and sink her nails into this lady’s face. Dig under her skin and gather evidence so they know it was her that did it. That desk lady’s sickly-sweet tone and fake pity had driven her to madness. A long-buried thirst for violence that makes her feel like a grade-school girl boils in her blood and it’s like Matsukawa can sense it because it’s then that his hand goes tight around her shoulder, and he pulls her back. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, relaxed politeness sounding natural on him. “We appreciate your help.”

She doesn’t appreciate her help. She doesn’t appreciate shit. She wants to jump over the counter and make that known, but Matsukawa grabs at her arms and tugs, using a bit more force to get her away from that desk. But she makes a point to turn her head and shoot that lady one more rage-filled sneer.

Matsukawa doesn’t let her go until he’s pulled her out the front door, into the sidewalk of a busy city street. But he has no qualms about stopping her there, a dam in the middle of the sidewalk, foot traffic splitting and flowing around them. He grabs her by both of her shoulders. “Okay, you need to calm down. Like right now. Alright?”

Her teeth grind together. “I want to pop her fucking eyes out,” she spits out, like an unrepentant child, unashamed of her outburst.

“Well, that’s not going to do anything to help, so don’t fucking do that,” Matsukawa says, a bit of a bit in his voice and slightly shaking her shoulders. The air surrounding them is suffocating, hot and humid and beads of sweat are popping up on the back of her neck already. “And she’s right. There’s nothing we can do but get him a lawyer.”

She doesn’t look at Matsukawa. She hates him right now, because he’s right, and there’s nothing her blind rage and outburst can do to make it better. She focuses her stare just past him, watching the stream of tourists and college students and burdened employees that drifts down the sidewalk, past both of them. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “Whatever.”

He releases her then, and her gaze falls to her shoes as Matsukawa steps back from her. A hand reaches up to push stray strands of hair away from his forehead. “Oikawa’s calling his guy. He should be down here soon. We’ve gone through this before, we know what to do. Iwa’s not an idiot, he can handle himself in there.”

The combination of rage and embarrassment tastes sour in the back of her throat. “He didn’t do it,” she asserts, for no one else other than herself.

“Course he didn’t fucking do it,” Matsukawa scoffs. “Iwa has lines. Hitting his girl is way past them.”

Her mouth furls. It’s getting hotter and hotter every second there on that sidewalk. Every emotion feels too big for her body; it paralyzes her. She hates this. She fucking hates this. Iwaizumi being locked in some holding cell with the drunken disorderly conduct leftovers from the night before. Him being in there because of her.

Matsukawa sees her standing there, stiff and clenched up, and sighs. “Look,” he starts off, more sympathetic than before, and the pity makes her twitch, “why don’t you just come back to mine and Makki’s place for now? You don’t have to go-“

And then, the call of her name. Loud enough to get the attention of everyone on that sidewalk. Commanding enough that people look, just to make sure, just to double check that it’s not their name, that they didn’t make a mistake, somehow. She looks over Matsukawa’s shoulder and sees her father. Out in the open, on the sidewalk.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says as he approaches, broad smile sending a new rush of rage down her spine. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t dare to tear her eyes away from her father, looking clean in his freshly pressed uniform. Like this is some kind of special occasion for him. “I was worried help wouldn’t get to you in time.”

She blinks. There’s no room for fear in her body. “Help?” she echoes back, voice hoarse.

He moves to reach for her. She steps back, Matsukawa places himself in front of her. “When I saw how that boyfriend of yours was treatin’ you, I had to call in a favor. I got a friend that works in this district, y’know. I got lots of friends, Bug.”

Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. She feels stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

But she didn’t think of it. She wasn’t expecting it. She was completely caught off guard by her god-awful, piece of shit father.

So she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

She reaches into her pocket and fishes out her keys. A few for the sports store. Three for her apartment building (one for the front door, one for her place, and one for Iwa’s), and one to her old home she shared with her brother. She places them each between her fingers, and without very much hesitation, she punches the end of those keys into her father’s face, with as much force is left inside of her.

Pretty immediately, there’s a reaction from the stream of people. Screams, she thinks. Matsukawa’s quick to act, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away from her now-bleeding father. But everything around her is white noise. She's numb to it. She looks at her father and she hopes the gashes will scar. “You piece of shit!” she screams at him. “I’ll fucking kill you! You fucker! You’re fucking dead!”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Her list is fucked now. She doesn’t know where rage issues fall in the new order. But probably higher than before, she would have to guess, because she’s sitting in an interrogation room.

Kageyama Tobio sits across from her, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and arms crossed over his chest. He’s leaned back in his seat, and she has this feeling she’s about to be scolded. “Assaulting a police officer is pretty serious.”

She feels dirty, humid air making her skin sweaty and salty, her hair frizzy and tangled. A bit of blood splattered on the skin of her forearm. They wouldn’t let her wash it off. “He’s not a police officer to me,” she says, words coming stubbornly out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s just my piece of shit father.”

Kageyama leans forward, bare forearms pressed against the cool metal of the table between them. “Can I ask you something?” He does not wait for the answer. “Is Iwaizumi worth all of this? Look at where you are, do you think this is worth it?”

“Can I ask you something instead?” She waits for confirmation from him. He gives her a slight nod. “Did you like PCD?”

He sighs, fingers tapping against the table. She wants to break them. “We can drop the charges on you, y’know. If you have something more valuable to give us, we’d be happy to do something for you in return.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Valuable?”

Kageyama leans back again. He adjusts a lot, she’s noticed. Moving and shifting and repositioning. She has stayed still in her seat. “Listen, I’ve known Iwaizumi for a while. All of them. I know what they’re like. I know how they can make you feel. You get caught up in it. Good people like you and me find themselves in shit situations without realizing it. But let me tell you this,” he says, severe, and a finger pointed in her direction, “Iwaizumi’s not going to give this up for anything. And you’re not an exception. As much as you think he cares about you, he cares about his job more.”

She can see her mother so clearly, then. For the first time in years. She can see her features, the details of her face. The ones she has in common with her brother. The ones she has in common with her. She can see the anger twisted into her brow like a permanent fixture. She can hear her voice, as if it’s in her ear now.

“Men like your father, they only care about one thing. And it’s not you and it’s not me.”

She lifts her head to meet Kageyama’s stare. His eyes are so sharp and so blue. “Kageyama?”

He leans forward. “Yeah?”

“Suck my dick.”

The sigh of defeat is, at the very least, satisfying. His shoulders slump and she watches the last bit of hope he was holding onto fade out of him. And at least she has that. “Well, in that case, you’re free to go. Your father’s not pressing charges.”

She stands at once, not immediately being hit the with realization that he had tried to trick her into snitching. “Fucking finally,” she spits out, her limbs feeling stiff and disjointed.

She’s halfway out the door when Kageyama says, “Yeah, well, see you later, I’m sure.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi is released before the forty-eight hours is up. She does not find out until four days after.

Most of those four days are spent numbly sitting through her shifts, face weathered and her limbs hanging from her body like heavy, led weights. She lies in her bed. She hardly eats. She checks her phone every five to ten minutes and she calls Oikawa and Matsukawa and Makki and gets their voicemails and she hears nothing.

And then, as she’s hanging out the window, smoking her second cigarette in a row, she sees him. Walking down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his chin up. She watches, in disbelief for a moment, waiting to see if he’s going to turn into their apartment building and run straight up the stairs and into her arms and kiss her and apologize and swear that he would exact vengeance on her father. For the both of them.

But Iwaizumi just walks. He goes straight until he is out of her view.

With shaking hands, she texts him:

so when were u planning on telling me u got out?

He does not respond.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s a month before he speaks to her again.

A month after no texts and no calls and no early morning coffee visits and nothing but the creaks of his floorboards from above. It’s torture. It scratches at her throat and it puts nails in her bloodstream and she spends more than one evening laid out on her bathroom floor, sobs wrecking through her frame, clawing at nothing, trying to grab onto something.

The feeling of abandonment is not entirely unfamiliar. It tastes the same as anger, and it never comes without it. And the combination can make her irrational.

“-and my friend Tanaka has a truck,” Kiyoko says into her, her voice fuzzy from the poor connection. She has her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, haphazardly throwing whatever belongings she can find into the cardboard box she stole from work. “He offered to help move your stuff out if you want.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, drifting through her apartment, stopping as she settles in front of her CD player, sitting in the middle of her kitchen table. The one Iwaizumi gifted her. She makes no move to grab it. She’s sure that Kiyoko has one already. “Maybe he could come by tomorrow. I could be done packing by then. That cool?”

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll ask when he’s free.”

She hums in response, and kicks at one of the legs of her coffee table. A lot of her sidewalk trash furniture is going to right back to where it came from. “Are you sure this is okay with you?”

“Of course!” is Kiyoko’s enthusiastic confirmation. “It’s been a little lonely since my last roommate moved out. And to be honest it’ll be nice to split the rent again.”

God, rent splitting. It sounds like a dream to her. Expenses divided in half-she almost drools at the thought of it. She chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Should probably finish packing now.”

“Alright. See you then.”

She snaps her phone shuts and pockets it.

Even as she empties it of her belongings, the apartment is a mess. Littered with forgotten belongings and things she never had the motivation to get rid of. Things she doesn’t know what to do with. Things that she doesn’t need and can’t justify keeping but she can’t bring herself to trash. The Ponkadu mug. Her pink, fuzzy journals filled with love struck passages. A dried, dead dandelion Iwaizumi ripped from the ground and placed in her hand.

Her head throbs. She looks up at the ceiling above her, like she’s waiting for something. A creak or a slam or something. A sign that he’s still there. That he’s not as far away from her as he feels. But it’s silent, and there’s nothing. And it’s like he was never even there in the first place.

She swallows the lump in throat and returns her attention to the scattered objects in front of her. She forces herself to harden and drops the Ponkadu mug in the trash. Then the journal. Then the dandelion. And she thinks to herself, bitterly, like she’s in an argument with herself, that it’s not like he was never even here in the first place. The evidence of his existence is all over her. It lingers in her lungs, in her chest, it spreads through her bloodstream. Iwaizumi’s there, causing every ache and every sting and every throb. He’s there.

Something possesses her. Everything can go in the trash, suddenly, it doesn’t matter what it is. Plates and freezer-burnt ice cream and a half-empty first aid kit. Anything with the lingering presence of Iwaizumi is getting dumped. Trashed. Left rot and fester in some landfill. And after an hour passes, her apartment is covered with bursting, heavy black trash bags of her wasted belongings.

She sits on the floor, shoulders slumped, legs crossed. She already threw out her couch. Her mattress is sitting on the floor of Kiyoko’s apartment, in the bedroom that will be hers by tomorrow. So for now, all she has is the rotted hardwood floor, where Iwaizumi told her he’d marry her.

Her throat tightens. She cannot get out of here fast enough.

Sweat droplets form on the back of her neck as she stands, ready to start hauling bag after bag out to the presumably already overflowing dumpster behind her apartment building. Her knees knock together as she stands, and she moves towards her door, ready to prop it open with one of the trash bags.

She undoes her deadbolt. Then her chain lock. Then she opens the door, and Iwaizumi is there, hand raised to knock.

At the sight of him, her throat tightens up, and she is immediately, torn split between her rage and her desperation. As much as she wants him to hold her, to make her promises and give her the comfort she’s been craving so desperately for the past month, she wants to bite his head off just as much. To make him hurt the way he hurt her. To tear him up from the inside.

Instead, she stares, blankly, somewhat horrified. Her heart beats heavy in her throat and her ears get fuzzy. He looks the same. That makes her angry. She wishes there was some change, some difference. But the Iwaizumi that said that he loved her in her kitchen and that he’d marry her on her floor is the same one that left her to rot on her own.

He steps into her apartment, right past her, like he still has the right to, and looks at the state of it. Everything packed up. Everything scattered. He looks at her like he still has the right to. “What’s going on?”

She flinches, and her anger is starting to win. “I’m moving.”

Iwaizumi pulls that face. That same one. Always looking like he’s slightly dissatisfied with something. “Why?”

Why. It’s such a stupid question. She tries to take a breath to calm herself but it makes her shudder and lock up. “I’m sure if you think about it, you can figure it out.”

She watches the air enter and exit his lungs through the rising and falling of his shoulders. He looks at her, right through her. “Don’t leave.”

In an odd way, she likes the control. She likes the feeling that, for once in her life, she’s not the one begging. “Don’t tell me what to do. Not after you left me.”

He exhales sharply. Iwaizumi takes a step towards her, and she takes a step back. “C’mon, that’s not fair. I didn’t leave you. I just needed to put some distance between us for the time being. Your dad, he’s fucked, alright? It was a liability to-“

“A liability?” she cuts him off, hands clenched into fists by her side. The heat in her blood rises. “I’m a liability?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and reaches towards her. She jerks away from him. “No, not that you’re a liability, it was just a risk to be around you while-“

“So, what, you couldn’t get one of your little errand boys to tell me about it?” she says, and it comes out like a bark. “You had to leave me in the dark for a month while you dicked off doing god knows what? Too risky to send a text? After I lied to the cops for you and risked getting arrested for you and became a fucking on-call nurse for you, you couldn’t send me a fucking text?”

Her breath is ragged. Iwaizumi stares down at her like he’s seeing for the first time. “I thought you wouldn’t care. I thought you don’t care about anything.”

And it’s too much for her. It’s too big for her body. It’s too much for her to carry and she can’t hold onto it anymore. “I care about everything! I care about everything so fucking much it makes me sick!” she erupts, tears in her voice and rolling down her face. Her skin feels hot. The air feels hot. “Is that what you liked about me so much? You thought I was some kind of apathetic ragdoll you could toss around and do whatever you want with?”

“I thought you would understand!” he eventually bites back at her, his own voice rising. “I thought you knew what kind of life I live and what that meant! God, you fucking act like nothing bothers you and you pretend to not see the world around you and you just expect me to read your mind?”

“What fucking person would be okay with being abandoned for a month?” she screams. “You knocked on my door and asked me for a favor and you hovered around me and you said you loved me and said you’d marry me and then you just fucking disappeared! That’s so fucked, Iwa. That’s so fucking cruel.”

He steps towards her, and before she can say anything his arms are around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Like one simple embrace will end it all. Like he can just take her in his arms and suddenly she’ll stay, suddenly it’ll fix everything. She wants it to. She wants it to so badly. But she places her palms on her chest and pushes him away. She stumbles back and looks at him with wet eyes. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I do love you,” he tells her, voice lower now. “I meant what I said and I still do. You’re my girl. You’re everything to me.”

She shakes her head, trembling. She can’t let it be true. “No, I’m not,” she asserts, backing up into her kitchen table. Her hands go around the edge of it. “I don’t mean anything to you. You wouldn’t have left me if I did.”

“I had a reason-“

“I don’t fucking care what your reason was! I don’t fucking care, Iwa! I don’t care about your stupid job or your stupid fucking guns or whatever! I care that you were here, and then you weren’t! You left me like my mom did and you left me like my brother did and then you come back here and you have the fucking audacity to not even be sorry about it. I fucking hate you!”

She knows that she doesn’t mean it, when she says it. Iwaizumi probably knows too. He probably knows she doesn’t mean it when she swipes the CD player he got her off the kitchen table and it goes flying. Soaring across the room until it slams into the opposite wall, breaking and crumpling against the pressure. Bits of it snap off.

Iwaizumi looks at it, and then he looks at her. She’s shaking. She wants to get on her knees and do everything she can to fix it the second it breaks. But it’s on the floor, broken and shattered. Iwaizumi nods, and then he leaves. He turns around and walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.

an: huge huge huge huge thank u to wyr and ness and honee and molly and dodger who all had to suffer thru me trying to get this chapter out u guys are the best

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐

(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)

An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...

I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.

There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.

I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha

Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.

Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...

Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...

Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.

As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.

[pullhisteeth]

wise words | eddie munson

summary Eddie f*cked up (royally) and has to work his ass off to get you back. based on a swift song obviously [4k]

contains 18+! fem!reader, a bit of fuckboy!eddie, angst, arguing, grovelling, hurt/comfort, crying, eventual fluff, suggestive themes/allusions to smut, Robin and Steve being disappointed but supportive pseudo-parents

-

He’s standing on your doorstep.

He’s standing on your doorstep and he’s shaking. Like a fucking leaf.

He looks down at the flowers wrapped in cellophane and thinks, are they good enough?

Am I good enough?

Will anything ever be good enough?

Thick drops of rainwater run down the plastic and coat the pink petals and he resolves that no, they’re not good enough.

He knocked twenty-three seconds ago. He knows this because he’s counting, keeping himself grounded.

Twenty-four Mississippi.

Twenty-five Mississippi.

Twenty-six Miss-

The door swings open quickly, almost impatiently, as though there wasn’t nearly half a minute between the knock and the response.

He looks up and when his eyes meet yours he knows for sure this time that this was a bad idea.

“Are you insane?” you ask him. Concern cuts through the irritation, leaving those creases by your eyebrows he’s so familiar with.

He doesn’t respond, his mind elsewhere. He’s desperately trying to pull it back but it’s running fast, back to yesterday evening.

-

“Eddie, seriously,” Robin says, impatient, “you have to do something. This is getting ridiculous, and besides, she’s crazy about you, even if you did royally fuck up, and- Hey!”

“What Rob means to say,” Steve interjects, giving her a swift and clean elbow to the ribs, “is that you’ve gotta grovel, man.”

“But it’s been so long,” Eddie whines, running his hands over his face, a pattern he has grown accustomed to over the past few months. A fed-up, miserable routine of lamenting his deepest regrets to his patient but equally-as-fed-up friends over beers on the nights you’re too busy to join them. “I can’t- I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Here,” Robin says, laying her palms flat on the table, fingers splayed. She pushes herself up, weight on her hands, and leans over Eddie. He stares up at her from behind his own fingers and winces quietly. “You love her, right?”

“Yes,” he responds, voice muffled under the heels of his hands.

“And she loves you-”

“Does she?”

“-and we know this because we’re her friends.”

Eddie’s eyes flit to Steve, whose face is drooping with sympathy. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of a Robin Buckley lecture knows the feeling, and he has had his fair share.

“So what you gotta do,” she continues, dipping her head to regain his attention, “is apologise.”

“I tried that-”

“Properly.”

At this he gives in, huffing a sigh and dropping his arms to fold in front of him, quickly enough to catch his head as it drops to the table like an anvil. He hears Robin return to her seat, and then feels gracious fingers on his elbow.

“Eds, man, it’s gonna be fine. You’ve just gotta fight for it.” It’s Steve, being soft as ever, so desperate to see his two friends happy that he’ll relinquish himself to his affectionate side.

“I want to,” he says, voice muffled again by the denim of his jacket sleeves. “But she deserves better than me.”

“Tell her that,” Robin suggests, voice far softer now. “Tell her you miss her, it’s been a long time, and that you were scared.”

She’s clever, Eddie thinks, pulling that gem out from the archives. On a particularly bad night, maybe two months after it had happened, he’d admitted to them the truth at the heart of all of this: he’s a scared boy, one who resolved while young that he would never fall in love, never let the walls down, for fear that he’d have to endure loss any more than was necessary. Your love had driven him mad and fear had driven him away, and now he avoids three diners and nearly all of the gas stations across Hawkins, schedules doctors appointments at the most inconvenient times and definitely never steps foot in the movie theatre downtown.

“She’ll come around,” Robin tells him kindly. When he lifts his head, eyes regretfully filling with that hopeful spark, she says, “She’s mad, don’t get me wrong. But she’ll come around. You just have some work to do.”

“And for what it’s worth,” Steve says in a cadence that worries Eddie enough to make him lift his head back up again, looking at Steve’s stern expression, “she does deserve better than you.”

“Stop, Steve, seriously-”

“She deserves better than you if you can’t find the fucking courage to go get her back.”

-

Now, standing on your front doorstep, looking at you for the first time in half a year, Eddie knows Steve was right. He doesn’t have the balls to do this; he’s too afraid of rejection, and more specifically rejection from you, and this was a bad idea. You deserve better.

He barely notices when you step one pace to the left, and when you speak your voice sounds like it’s coming from the other side of a thick wall.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay out there.”

He moves without thinking too hard, because you’re right - it’s cold as fuck out here and he’s grateful for the humming warmth he can feel coming from inside your home.

“Just stay there, I’m gonna get some towels.”

He feels pathetic, standing in your hallway, dripping wet like a fucking dog, gripping so hard onto the flowers that his knuckles are turning white. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, afraid of getting anything in your house wet, but acutely aware of how stupid he must look.

You come back around the corner with two big bath towels in your arms. They’re white and Eddie feels the burning shame of ruining them but says nothing, remaining tight-lipped and letting you clean up the floor. When your fingers curl around his tense ones he stares at you, at the strange, unreadable look on your face, and feels the jolt of a thousand volts carry down his fingers and into his shoulder. Where your fingers made contact you leave a sensation not unlike carpet burn.

“These are pretty,” you tell him, gently pulling the flowers from his grip. The cellophane crinkles and it slowly brings him back to this, to you, and he nearly chokes on air.

He says your name, a pathetic sound followed by even more pathetic noises, and when you smile, tight-lipped just like him and brows turned down, he cracks, voice failing him as he stumbles.

“Get your boots off and meet me in the kitchen,” you say, your face unreadable as ever as you turn on your heels and step back through the open door he knows well. 

You leave him bewildered, like a soldier in the wake of a bomb, but he eventually comes to and does as you say. He debates leaving them outside, to cause you the least bother possible, but decides instead to leave them on one of the towels by the door.

His socks are soggy, slipping on the hardwood as he treads softly through your home. The reaction his gut is having to being here is ugly, so he breathes in slowly through his nose and wipes rainwater off his cheek with the back of his hand.

You’ve got your back to him, standing over the sink. At first he thinks you’re sorting the flowers, the way you always do - wrapping off, stalks trimmed, vase filled - but then he sees that, instead, you’re gripping the porcelain. White-knuckled.

For the first time he gets a look at you, or the back of you at least, because he’s pretty sure you haven’t heard him come around the corner. You’re much the same as before, except for the way you’ve cut your hair, and the fact that he remembers you in pretty sundresses and tennis shoes but it’s December, so you’re bundled in a jumper and sweats.

“I, uh-” He stammers, words catching on the edges of his teeth. He says your name again and watches you flinch. “It’s- It’s been so long, I-”

“Yeah,” you breathe, shoulders relaxing and grip loosening. You turn and lean back on the sink with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Just so you know,” he starts, and he can feel it, the fucking sarcastic tone that he can’t seem to shake. It comes out whenever he has to be genuine and it’s like someone else somewhere is pushing his buttons, controlling what comes out of his mouth. “-it’s been the, uh, the longest six months I think... ever.”

You look at him, more than familiar with this tone and this game. 

“Yeah,” you say again.

“I don’t really know how to-”

“Eddie,” you bite, words like venom. “Can I ask you a question?”

As he nods his head, a little bemused, you gesture to the kitchen table. He catches on and sits at the chair closest to the door as you mirror him on the chair opposite.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

You rest your crossed arms on the table and lean on them, peering at him.

He breathes in slowly.

“To apologise.”

You scoff and he flinches, recoiling at the sound.

“And how’s this one gonna be different to the other hundred apologies?” You spit the word, as though it bears no meaning. At this point, and when it comes to Eddie, it almost doesn't.

That’s fair, he thinks.

-

“You are such a fucking jackass, Eddie Munson,” Robin barks, raising her arms in defeat. She’s pacing the aisles of Family Video while he sits on the counter and Steve loiters behind it, sorting tapes. “A jackass, seriously!”

“I get it, Rob, thanks,” he drones.

“No,” she snaps, feet finally finished being aimless and instead marching her over to him. She stands somewhere close to between his knees and if it weren’t Robin and she weren’t about to grill him for all he’s worth, it might be endearing.

She jabs her index finger into his chest, straight to the centre of his sternum.

“You’re a piece of shit. An asshole. A douchebag. And I’m allowed to call you all of these things because it’s me who gets the phone calls at two in the morning when she’s crying over you. Again.”

He drops his gaze, his hair covering her wrist and his face.

“Why’d you do it, dude?” Steve asks from behind him. “Like… I just don’t see the… Goal, or whatever.”

Eddie groans and tips his head back, staring uncomfortably at the ceiling tiles.

He wonders for a brief moment, before answering, why the two of them are still friends with him. Clearly his end goal is being as inaccessible as possible, keeping everyone at such a far distance at all times that he can never feel remorse, or that he’s letting anyone down. But now he’s here, with his friends, and he’s let them down and, worst of all, let you down, too. More than ever.

“I was trying to make it better,” he says, and the jab to the sternum comes harder this time, and is the full brunt of Robin’s fist rather than her finger.

“That is bullshit,” she says.

“I was!” he maintains, exasperated. “I just… I started trying to explain myself and I just couldn’t tell the truth.”

“So instead you told her you never want to see her again?!”

“I-”

“How does that help literally anything?!”

Robin’s right, of course. She’s always right; too smart for her own good, Eddie’s always thought. But he doesn’t have an answer for her.

“She’s better off that way anyway,” he says, sighing.

-

He blinks at you, studying your stern expression, before answering.

“I wanna be honest with you,” he begins, “like, actually this time. And I know it’s been ages and that I have been…”

“Awful,” you suggest.

“Yeah, awful-”

“An asshole. The worst. Evil. Cruel. Mean.”

“Right,” he says, nodding limply. “Yeah. That.”

You lean back, arms still crossed like armour.

“I want to get this right,” he admits, surprising himself, “and I’m trying to work out how.”

You also seem taken aback by this, brows raising just a bit, your eyes going wide. You don’t say anything, though.

“I want you to know how sorry I am,” he continues. He’s sitting rigid in his seat and can’t find something to occupy his fingers, so he begins twisting a ring around one of them. “But, like, I don’t know how to get that across… The flowers were, uh, step one, and this is step two… I, uh…”

He’s stumbling again, searching for the words in a sea of insecurity and unsteadiness. You wait, sitting still and breathing shallow.

“I think I- I was scared.”

“Of what?” you ask, taking him by surprise. He was expecting a vast silence that he would have to fill with pleas, excuses, sorries and truths. He thought you’d leave him to it and let him down slowly at the end.

“Uh, of you. Of us, I guess.”

“What?”

He leans forward finally, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to-”

“Try,” you say flatly.

He looks up at you, unsure.

“Try to explain it. You haven’t even tried.”

Deep, heavy breath in.

-

“Eddie, you can’t, I don’t-”

“Fucking stop it,” he bites, arrowhead words ripping you open.

“I don’t understand,” you try again, voice thick with tears and your throat closing in. In fact, everything is closing in.

He’s leaving.

“Exactly,” he spits, pulling his shirt on. “Just… I’m going.”

“But-”

He’s out of the door, jacket in arm, before you can protest any further. Your mind is racing, spinning out in search of something that you could have done to fix this, or else something you could have done to cause this.

But you’re coming up empty, because you’d spent the day the same as any other day this summer: in your bed, entwined, wayward fingers and lazy kisses. Sweet nothings splashed in whispers across bare skin, and-

Oh, you think. Oh.

-

“When you said you loved me,” he begins, wincing at his own honesty, “I just… I freaked, it was scary. I… Honestly, the main problem here is that I was fucking scared. I am scared. I don’t know how to… How to love, or whatever… How to do it right and not hurt you, or me, or both of us. I’m useless, it’s why I’ve never bothered before and I knew, even before we started hooking up, that-”

“Hooking up?”

He looks at you, pulling his eyes back from their wandering, to find you bitter and your face contorted in disgust.

“You call that hooking up?”

“I mean- I-”

“If you think we were hooking up, that’s bad enough, Eddie. Hook ups don’t last three months.”

“No,” he sighs. “They don’t. I think I’m… Trying to make myself feel better about it.”

“You don’t deserve that,” you tell him, and though it’s cutting and it should hurt, your voice is so kind so suddenly that he can’t help but lean into it, tugging gently on the hands of care it extends to him. “You left me, after months of stringing me along. I was basically your girlfriend, without the labels or whatever. There isn’t another word for what we were.”

“No,” he agrees, dwelling for a moment too long on those moments of domesticity, the quiet mornings drinking coffee on your front lawn, the afternoons spent hanging the laundry and throwing stray socks at one another. “And that was fucking scary. I was way too scared, when you said you loved me that morning, way too scared to admit what I really, really wanted.”

“Which was?” you ask, arms still firmly crossed.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “You know what I-”

“Say it.”

“You-

“Say it.”

He breathes, defeated, and looks at you dead in the eye.

“I love you,” he tells you. “I loved you then, and I love you now, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

You deflate, your arms going lax, face surprised as though you didn’t expect him to actually do it, to rise to your challenge and be honest. For a flash, he feels smug, but then he remembers-

“I love you,” he repeats - the feeling of the words rolling off his tongue is unbearable, they’re too heavy, they won’t stop falling - “but you deserve better than me.”

You breathe sharply through your nose in frustration.

“Why are you here then?”

“What?”

“If I deserve better than you,” you repeat, finally releasing the tightness of your crossed arms and planting your palms on your knees, “why are you here? To torture me? Not satisfied with the last six fucking months, huh?”

“No, I-”

“Well, Eddie-” You spit his name like it’s gone bad and it twists something inside him. “-I’m fucking fed up of you and your… How mean you are. You’re always so mean to me and I hate that I cried over you for weeks-”

-

The door swings open and Robin rushes inside, expression tight with fear and worry.

She calls your name in a tone that drips affection as she rounds on you, where you’re standing with your weight on the wall and a hand over your face. By now it’s puffy and uncomfortable, your cheeks raw from wiping them with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“What happened?” she asks, holding you like you’re about to break and moving you across your house to the couch. “Did you argue? Or-”

“He left, Robs. Just left.” You sigh and it heaves like you’re sat under a crate of bricks. Robin’s heart aches, nearly cracks in two at the sight of you and the fury she feels for her stupid, good-for-nothing metalhead friend.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, wrapping you up in strong arms. As she rocks you, you cry, and she kisses the crown of your head and tells you, without much belief in it herself, that it’ll be okay.

“Steve’s on his way,” she says after ten or fifteen minutes.

“It’s okay, I’m-”

“We’re gonna stay here,” she says quickly, “just for tonight.”

You look at her, eyes glassy, and as you speak your voice cracks. “I love him, Rob.”

She looks back at you sadly, fingers gripping your hands. “I know.”

-

You’re on your feet now, pacing back and forth and he’s watching, transfixed, as your shoulders move up and down, powered by rage, understandably.

“-I cried so much because I had spent weeks working up the courage to say that to you, to admit it to you and to myself because you’re so cold, Eddie. You’re so cold and distant and I still managed to fall in love with you.”

It’s at this point that Eddie’s drifting eye, which is following you back and forth, lands on the cluster of picture frames on your windowsill. He recognises most of them - photos of the group of you, up by the lake or in Chicago, some of your family and others at special occasions. But one of them calls to him loud enough to pull his eye from you completely.

It’s a silly frame he found at the thrift store. It’s hand-painted in gaudy colours, brush strokes in swirls and bursts of yellow and purple and green. And behind the glass is a picture Wayne had taken one day when you were at his trailer, watching movies on the couch.

It’s a polaroid, as most of your photos are, bright cracks of colour and light caused by the window right by his head - his head which is looking straight ahead, big wide grin and happy eyes, and you beside him, hands on one of his thighs, pushing yourself up to kiss his cheek.

It’s only when you stop pacing and, more noticeably, stop talking that he realises anything is wrong. His face is wet and there are new drops of water on the table - not the drying rainwater from his hair, but one or two drips from his jaw.

“Are you crying?” you ask, hands on your hips.

“Huh?” He asks, wiping his face with his wrist. “I, uh… Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just-”

His eyes flicker upwards and past you, to somewhere you follow with your own gaze. It lands on the photo and you start, cheeks flushing warm.

Suddenly, the anger lingering in the room, filling the air and his lungs and almost definitely yours, dissipates. It doesn’t disappear as such - you’re still seething, breathing loudly, but it’s like someone cracked a whip and the dust lifted.

He calls your name and you look at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you earnestly. “I’m really, really sorry.”

You breathe out slowly and he watches your chest deflate as you take a step to sit back down. As you sit he rises, stepping over to you on unsure feet. He’s tentative, waiting - expecting - an adverse reaction.

You watch him as he gets closer and lowers himself to the ground.

“You are not about to-”

“I’m not getting on my knees, if that’s what you’re gonna say,” he says, and his tone is light - too light for his liking, but he catches the twitch in the corner of your mouth and something warm blooms in one of the chambers of his heart.

He squats beside you, resting his weight on one hand on the table. He keeps the other to himself, fingers spread over his bent knee.

“I’m an asshole. In fact, I’ve been all of those things you said, and I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry enough for you. But I… I’ve had all this time, and some… intense conversations with Rob and Steve, and I… I want to try to be sorry enough. Or to just make it up to you, somehow. Because I can’t… It’s too hard, doing all of this without you.”

He knows how this must look, him on the ground, soggy socks and soggier hair, staring at you like a lost puppy. But the way your eyes soften, and the familiar feeling of the brush of your fingertips over the damp skin of his bare wrist, is enough to make him go limp.

“What’d they say?” you ask him, watching your own fingers where they trace aimless strokes.

“Hm?”

“Rob and Steve. What’d they say?”

He laughs lightly, embarrassed.

“Uh, that I’m an asshole. In fact, Rob, she made sure to tell me that multiple times. Basically every time I saw her. And Steve, he… He’s such a good dude, you know? But I… I disappointed them, and myself, and you. I hurt you so bad and I don’t know where to put all this guilt I have.”

Neither of you are looking at one another, but you chuckle, thinking about Robin. Her loyalty makes your head spin. And Steve, with his heart of gold, who held you all those times you cried and fought silently between his anger at Eddie and his love for you.

“I love them,” you whisper, your fingers halting. The pad of your thumb hovers over the protruding joint, stroking it softly until you feel the thrum of his pulse under your own. Your fingers wrap the opposite way, until you’re holding his arm like a bracelet.

You squeeze and he sucks a quick breath in.

“You really hurt me, Eddie,” you tell him, lifting his arm off the table. He wobbles and uses his free hand to steady himself on your chair, the knuckle of his thumb meeting the side of your thigh for just a second. You manoeuvre his hand into your lap, where you lay it flat. You both stare at it and all he can hear is your breathing and the rush of blood past his ears.

“I know I did,” he says. “I can go, if you want.”

You hum and begin tracing the lines on his palm. “It’s gonna take a while,” you say.

“What is?”

“Making it up to me.”

His eyes move without permission to your face, where he finds a barely-there smile and the beginnings of the crows feet by your eyes.

“Forever,” he says, knowing you’re right - it’ll take a long, long time.

“Forever.”

“I must’ve been crazy,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Hm?”

Your fingers are still now, resting on his, and he finally moves his own. His knees are burning from squatting and the balls of his feet are digging into something sharp under the linoleum, but he’s not thinking too hard about any of it. He takes your hands in his and holds them, backs of your palms to the front of his. He dips his head and kisses your left wrist and then your right, lingering to feel the thump of your heart.

“I am crazy,” he says. “I let you go.”

“You left me,” you correct him. “I never wanted to go.”

He looks up at you and pales when he sees the tears. Your eyes are wet and red round the edges and he thinks to himself that you’ve been doing this, crying over him, for six months. And it’s his fault.

The two of you move quickly and without thought. His knees buckle, giving into the strain he’s been putting on them for so long, and as he hits the floor he tightens his grip on you without meaning to. You’re pulled off your chair with a yelp and a clatter, landing in his lap with your knee dangerously close to his crotch.

Hands paw and wipe tears and you lift your leg to plant it beside him. As you stabilise yourself his arms come around you, too quickly at first; so quick he worries you’ll push him off, tell him to go fuck himself. They’re met by yours, though, coming around his back.

“I’m sorry,” he says into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

You say nothing, and instead push your face further into his shoulder.

He feels and hears you sniffling, so he pulls you back gently. Some of his hair sticks to your face and you wipe your nose unceremoniously with the back of your hand, scoffing at him when you see he’s smiling at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, looking away.

“Like what?”

“Like… That.”

“I don’t-”

“You have that look,” you say, groaning. And then you reach up to hold his face, and he caves, bowing into you in every way he can. “You’re so fucking pretty and it’s the worst.”

“You’re one to talk,” he tells you, enjoying the way you flush.

“Always the charmer.”

“It’s true,” he says. “Never seen anyone as pretty as you.”

He leans into your palm and twists just so, lips brushing the heel of it in a quick kiss.

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” you tell him, your smile deceiving you only slightly.

“I know,” he says. “But it might help me.”

You’ve been inching closer to his face, and now you’re all he sees. You’ve taken up his field of vision, your breath brushing past the end of his nose.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Wow,” you laugh, “Steve taught you how to be a gentleman since I last saw you or somethin’?”

“Stop- You’re ruining this.”

“Sorry,” you say, still laughing. “You were just never the kind to be so… chivalrous.”

“I’m hardly being chivalrous,” he says, matching your smile. “But now you mention it, yeah, actually.”

You lean back only slightly but it’s enough to make him deflate, unhappy at the new distance.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean… I was an asshole, as we’ve established. Needed to learn my manners again.”

“What did he say?”

“Can we please talk about this later? I just wanna-”

“No,” you say, grinning now. “I want to know.”

He groans, the hand he has spread across your back to hold you up tensing.

“I dunno, he just… He really did a number on me, y’know, telling me how I did everythin’ wrong and that I…”

He’s gone coy and you’re relishing in it.

“You what?”

“I… Steve called me a fuckboy.”

You bark out a laugh so loud Eddie flinches, but then he watches as you carry on laughing, nearly bent double, eyes all crinkled just the way he likes, the way he’s missed terribly.

“What’s so funny?!”

“It’s true,” you say. “It’s so true! Robin, Steve, I mean, we love you, obviously, you’re our friend, but like… They did say when you and me started, y’know… That I was in for it, that you’d break my heart, and I told them they were crazy ‘cause it was just sex, right? But then I realised maybe it wasn’t just sex, when you basically started living here, and we were more like… I dunno, like a couple… But they were right!”

He looks at you, aghast.

“They told you all of that?”

“Yeah! I mean, they were right, huh?”

“Yeah, I just… I didn’t know it was that bad, that they’d be able to notice that kinda thing.”

“You know,” you say, fingers tapping patterns up his chest. “Steve told me somethin’ else, a few months back.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, mind reeling through the thousands of things this could be.

“It’s not bad,” you say. “Well, it’s not one of the bad things. There were still bad things.”

“Right.”

“He said… He said he’s known you for, what, like three years now? And in all that time, before you and me met, you’d always have different girls, were known as a bit of a player at school…”

“Christ, okay.”

“But after you left me, Steve said he’d never seen you be so… Alone.”

Eddie looks at you in shock, so frightened by what else Steve may have said, but also by how you’re relaying this to him. Calm, stoic, unfeeling.

“I mean… I haven’t, y’know, slept with anyone else, if that’s what you-”

“I know,” you say. “I just… It makes it feel more real, you know?”

“I know I’m gonna be spending the rest of my life making sure you know I’m sorry,” he says, breathing out through his nose slowly, “but I mean it. I’ll do it. For the rest of my life. There isn’t anyone else. I’ll forego women, relationships, whatever… ‘Cause I won’t have time. Will be too busy makin’ it up to you.”

He noses at your neck, trying with everything he has to hold himself back from kissing you. The air around the two of you feels thick with laboured breaths and unsaid things - so many unsaid things, things he’ll tell you one day and other things he’s sure he’ll hear from you.

“So can I?” he murmurs into the warm skin above your collarbone, lips only a hair from making contact.

He feels your fingers come around the back of his neck, taking root at the nape where his hair starts. They curl around it, tugging him up, and then you do the dance - the one that always happened between the two of you in these moments. You dip in, so close, and back out, ebbing like a riverbank. It drives him crazy and he knows that you know it, so he smiles, and it’s only then that you finally kiss him.

As you move against him, lips and hands and chest and thighs, he lets his eyes close and his tongue move with yours, and thinks that this - kissing you - is much better when he’s being honest.

-

[serqphites]

omg omg hi!! i love ur acc and adore ur writing <3 ik u get sm smut recs nd im sorry to be adding to the list but i was wondering if you could maybe write a fic of eating lee out? i just think she would be sooo whiny and pathetic its killing me!!!!

pls don't ever feel bad abt sending in reqs ! if i didn't want to ever write smut again then i assure you i would js say :) also that's so kind of you thank you so much ml <3

—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—

it’s that time again, lee’s hand tugging at your belt as she whines into your mouth, her tongue dancing with your own. but something feels different today, almost as if you don’t really deserve it this time? like yes of course you’ve been to work too, but your job is nothing compared to what your girlfriend has to endure every single day.

her whines only become more desperate as she pulls away from the kiss, no words necessary because she's flashing you those gosh darn lost puppy eyes. leaning in once more, you press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling away and batting your hungry eyes at her (despite lee chasing after your mouth, whining again when you resist).

"not today baby, let me treat you mkay? just lay back beautiful" lee's hesitant at first, frowning before nodding and moving to lay beside you on her back.

all past confusion and cares are forgotten once her pants are off, her touch starved pussy practically crying for you. "so wet already? we haven't even done anything" pouting at her as you mock her, you position yourself between her legs, the heat radiating from her only intensifying your cravings.

"missed you today" she mutters sheepishly, head held up as she peeks down at whatever you're about to do to her.

cut to lee's hands tangled up in your hair, attempting to pull you impossibly close to her throbbing clit as she grinds her hips desperately against your face. lee could swear she's never felt anything like this in her life, you weren't joking when you told her she'd practically made you see god every time she's gone down on you.

"fuckshit- js'like that- mmm you're s'good" you can barely understand her, whimpers like a distant echo behind her slurred words as your tongue takes her to heaven and back.

you've never heard lee sound so... pathetic. i mean yeah she has always been whiny with you, but never before have you heard her be so vocal during sex, that's usually your job. "taste s'good" your words are obviously muffled against her, not wanting to pull away from your poor girl and ruin her building orgasm.

lee's whines and failed sentences turned whimpers eventually fade into cries of pure pleasure, that tight knot building in her abdomen. how can you tell? because her hand slides down to her stomach, pressing down slightly on just the right spot. classic trick, it's almost poetic to watch her do it to herself. even more arousing to know it's all because of you.

"i- i-" god she's trying so hard to get out the words she needs to, tears pricking at her eyes over how desperately she wants to tell you exactly what she needs. poor, pathetic thing.

nodding against her, you bring a hand up to rest atop her own that's currently pushing down onto her stomach, adding more pressure just to further her enjoyment. whines and moans build and build, echoing throughout the room and bouncing off of the walls before one last final cry of your name. lee comes undone for you, cum pooling into your mouth, her hips religiously rocking against your face as she rides out her high.

you can't just leave her like that though, right? that's just not fair, lee always makes sure to clean you up when she's done with you.

making sure you don't miss a drop of cum, your tongue travels around her messy cunt in search of more. lee's being driven insane above you, legs shaking like a leaf as she jolts and jitters with every swipe of your tongue against her plump clit.

deciding you've had enough fun with her, you press one last tender kiss to her pretty pussy before crawling up lay on her heaving chest, breath heavy and uneven. "good?" voice gentle, you trace patterns to her slightly revealed chest, only a few buttons being undone.

"good." poor baby sounds so exhausted, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand on her chest. she deserves a good rest after such an agonising day of work, and especially after that.

[seeingivy]

befriend your landlord 

roommate eren x f!reader

you and eren reconcile after meeting your eccentric landlord

**find the series masterlist here

content: drinking, certified nut job landlord kenny ackerman, mentions of thanksgiving and fascism, mentions of a little meow meow 

an: I do not subscribe to canon lonely levi he actually just has a very alive mother and a weirdo freak uncle bc I said so. buckle in girlfriends!!! (and boyfriends and all the friends) also this chapter is based on a very real thing that happened to one of my friends in college I just think its funny...also ive evolved from calling this a mini-series cuz I plotted way too much and now cuz we gotta build the trust yk they are VERY MUCH IDIOTS IN LOVE

previous part linked here

- 

“So we can’t drive because…” 

“He likes to drink. Like, an insane amount.” 

“What does that have to do with us?” 

You and Eren were currently swinging your feet on the green bench, the train station bustling in front of you. The two of you were riding into the city to meet with your landlord today. Kenny Ackerman. You were officially being added to the lease. But apparently, it was a bigger ordeal than just signing the papers. 

You’d thought against it originally. Signing a very legal, very binding agreement to live with Eren, to stay with him for the foreseeable future. It didn’t seem like the best idea, given how the two of you were as of late. Awkward, distant, aimless. 

If you had things your way, you would have been moving out, you would have never even been his roommate in the first place. You had even tried apartment hunting again, just to get away from Eren. For good. 

The second you tried, you immediately remembered the reason you had to live with Eren in the first place. The options were hardly to die over. Hole in the wall, bathtub for a bed, your old physics professor.

You were stuck with Eren, whether you liked it or not. And that meant you had to go, convince Kenny Ackerman you were ‘worthy of living in the apartment’ (Eren’s words, not yours), and then sign the lease. 

Eren had been coaching you for a better part of the morning, this conversation being the longest the two of you had talked in the past few weeks. 

Some part of talking to him was becoming easier. The two of you weren’t exactly having the conversations you had before, but it was civil. Nice even. It was the only reason you were able to stomach this entire thing.

“I would never drive you home drunk, Y/N.” 

“I could have driven us home.” 

“Trust me. He can be very convincing.” 

Eren had been coaching you on everything you needed to know about Kenny. Don’t call him Mr. Ackerman, he will hate you. If Kuchel, his sister, is there then make sure that you call her Mrs. Ackerman. Don’t call her Kuchel until she tells you to call her Kuchel. The sooner she says that, the better. Make sure to drink anything he offers you, the pink lemonade smells bad but it’s not too horrible. If his nephew is there, don’t make eye contact unless he makes it with you first. 

He was somehow more nervous introducing you to his landlord (and his landlord’s family??) than introducing you to his own parents. Granted, they kind of put a pin in that entire thing, but he seemed way more at ease then than he did right now. 

You can see the timer on the screen, signaling that the next train would be here in less than a minute. You nudge his shoulder and the two of you jump off the bench, hesitantly linking arms as you push through the crowd in front of you.

The second the doors slide open, everyone pushes forward, very quickly sliding into every available seat on the train. This left you and Eren to share a single pole to hold onto as the train started moving. You secure your knuckles right under his, the two of you standing in silence, less than a foot away from each other. He leans down, his face even closer than it was before and he whispers into your ear. 

“Brace your feet.” 

“I know how to stand on a train, Eren.” 

He doesn’t respond right away and you turn to find him looking down at the ground, avoiding meeting your gaze. You were just kidding. But then again, you did yell at him last week, so how is he supposed to know the difference? 

“Six stops. Then we’ll get off.” 

You nod, bracing your feet against the ground as the train starts moving. The train is stuffy, warm, and way over capacity. You can smell the girl standing directly next to you’s perfume, the prune smell so strong it was making your head spin. But worse than the smell was the heat, the congregation of people making the air congested, your hair sticking to the back of your neck from the sweat. 

The two of you are pressed against each other, standing awkwardly. In silence. You did that a lot lately. This thing between the two of you was…delicate. You’re not sure what it is but the usual comfort, ease that you and Eren had was all but eliminated, left with this quietness. If you made a joke, it was lost to him entirely. If he said something that caught you off guard, you usually avoided responding by leaving the room. You had shouted at him and he made fun of you, so that didn’t leave much room for comfort. 

The train quickly lurches, slowing down all of a sudden. You quickly lose your footing, stumbling in the air as the train stops completely. Before you can fall, Eren secures his hand against your waist, stabilizing you in the air as the train comes to a full stop. You watch a few people get off the train and switch with those getting on, your breath still shaky from losing your balance. 

You feel him lean down, his head directly next to yours as he whispers in your ear, again. His hand is still secured around your waist, holding you steady. Even though the train wasn’t moving. 

“So when I said brace your feet, I basically meant-” 

“Shut up, Eren.” 

“We should get a leash for the ride back. Lock you up real nice so you won’t move.” 

“Perfect! We can use after too, when I have to drag your drunk ass home.” 

The two of you are laughing, readjusting yourself against the pole as the train starts again. His hands are still holding you steady and you can feel your cheeks flushing pink. From the heat. Obviously. 

There’s always moments like this - ones where it feels like nothing’s changed at all. You try not to think too hard about them. They’ve always gotten you in trouble. 

He tightens his grip on your waist every time the train lurches and stops, for all five of the stops. You avoid the pounding in your chest, which only stops when you both hop off the train at the end of the line. 

As you wait for Eren to pay for the return tickets, you spot a tiny black kitten, just at the end of the sidewalk. You immediately run down, nuzzling the tiny little cat as you pet it. As you breathe in the air, you immediately sneeze twice, your eyes watery from the sensation. You immediately hear the sound of a camera clicking, to find Eren standing over you, his phone in hand. 

“What was that for?” 

“Two kitties!”

“Ew.” 

He holds his hand out, pulling you up as the two of you walk down the block to Kenny’s apartment. Your hands are at your side, lightly brushing against Eren’s every time he leans over, making room for the other people on the sidewalk. The sun is setting on top of the buildings, the air slightly chilled. The two of you stop, standing directly on Kenny’s porch. He glances over, giving you one last look. 

“Why are you so nervous, Eren?” 

“He can be really weird. And he’s going to grill you. Just- we have to bear with him to keep the rent the way it is and live together so, just don’t blow it, okay?” 

“I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Eren. Your faith in me is rejuvenating” 

“That’s- shut up, you know that’s not what I meant.” 

The two of you give each other a smile, as Eren turns to the side and knocks on the door. 

“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” you whisper. 

“His doorbell is La Cucaracha.” he responds. 

The door swings open and you’re greeted with three faces staring down at you - identical sets of jet black hair and gray eyes glistening in the lamplight of the street. At the sight of you, their faces all visibly droop, as they all welcome you in. 

“He looks too young for you, Levi. And he brought a pretty girl.” 

“Those are the tenants, Mom. Not Erwin.” 

The two of them shuffle down the hall, pushing past into the room. 

“Kenny Ackerman. You must be Eren’s new roommate.” 

“Yes, that’s me. It’s so nice to meet you.” 

You hold your hand out, him nearly jostling your entire body as he shakes your hand. He idles down the hallway to where the other two had gone, leaving you and Eren in the walkway. You whisper to Eren as the two of you hang your coats on the rack. 

“They hate me already.” 

“That’s not true. Kuchel called you pretty.” 

You roll your eyes, the two of you awkwardly shuffling into the living room, where the three of them were sitting across from you. It’s only then that you can get a better look at them and realize that you know one of them. Levi. Your old physics professor. The one who you cried to about not having a roommate that took pity on you and let you sleep in his house. 

“Hi Professor Levi. It’s been a while.” 

“I see you’ve found a roommate. I can’t believe you found a place to live in one week.” 

“I thought you said the two of you had been living together for a few months, Eren.” 

“We have, Kenny.”

“Ah, right. I was just looking around at other apartments for the past week just to see if anything popped up on the market. And they didn’t. So I’m here.” 

Eren ducks his head down, the expression on his face dark. He whispers into your ear as the three of them start chattering, still discussing Erwin. 

“What? You want to move out?” 

“No, no. I was just looking. It must be awkward for you to live with a girl who isn’t your girlfriend, you know?” 

He leans over, his eyes teetering between annoyed and irritated. 

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” 

The doorbell rings, throwing you and Eren out of the conversation you were having. You watch the three of them jump up and rush to the door, fixing their hair and their clothes as they make it to the door. You and Eren stand up, peeking your heads down the hallway as you watch the three of them greet Erwin. Your old political science professor. 

First Levi now Erwin too? You can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment, remembering that you had actually cried to the two of them twice - the first time to Levi when you were jumping houses and he agreed to let you stay with them and a second time when Erwin offered you an extra pillow before you went to sleep. 

“Hello. I’m Erwin Smith.” 

“Eren Yeager. This is my roommate, Y/N.” 

“Ah, Y/N. How are you? You figured out your living situation fast!” 

You don’t miss Eren glaring daggers at you out of the corner of your eye as you give Levi and Erwin an awkward smile, shaking your sweaty palms against their hands.

“Okay kid. You and Kuchel should go fix the dinner with Erwin in the kitchen. I have to talk to these two here.”  

Why are you and Eren here the first time Levi’s family is meeting his long term boyfriend? 

You look over to Eren whose irritation has very quickly been replaced with nervousness. Kenny is staring the two of you down, the two of you squished together on his very tiny couch. 

“So. You go to Shiganshina?” 

You feel your voice tangle in your throat, suddenly intimidated by Kenny staring you down. You can hear Eren’s voice echoing in your head, his angry look seared in your mind, your voice not coming out. He’s going to grill you. Don’t blow it. 

“Yes. She’s an Applied Kinesiology major. She’s very smart.” 

You look over, silently thanking the gods that Eren answered for you. 

“Can you pay rent?” 

“She has been, for the past two months.” 

He nods, leaning over the table as he stares you down. 

“I’ll give you a situation. Respond accordingly.” 

You nod, clenching your hands into little fists against the couch. 

“You just got off of work. You’re really tired but you have to stop by the store to get groceries. You’ve purchased them all. What do you do after?” 

You look over at Eren, giving him a weary stare. What the fuck kind of question is that? Is there even a right answer to this? 

“Well, I would leave the store. And take my cart, if I had one, to my car. I’d probably put my stuff away, return the cart, and then just drive home, put everything in the fridge and the cabinets.” 

He nods, taking in your answer as he leans back in his chair. “Do you like Eren?” 

“What?” 

“As a roommate.” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah, he’s great.” 

“Why did you start rooming with him?” 

You can’t lie. It seems wrong to tell him that your old roommates chose not to room with you for the next year - he was sure to not think you were a good fit if you said that. But if he found out you were lying, it would be even worse. 

“Well you see, she-”

“I asked her, Eren.” 

You feel him move his knee, pressing his against yours as his fingers curl around your hand. You feel him squeeze your hand twice, his green eyes warm as he looks at you. Right. You can do this. 

“I used to live with a few of my friends last year. I didn’t really know, but they had picked other arrangements without telling me, so I was left without a roommate for around a week. Eren was nice enough to offer me the empty spot in his room so I didn’t have to jump around from my friends' places every night.” 

He stares the two of you down. You’re rubbing circles into the back of Eren’s hand, the two of you holding your breaths as you wait for his response. 

“Sucks. Kids are bitches.” 

You both squeeze, trying your best not to smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“If you kids start dating, you can't be loud at night. You’ll piss off the neighbors. You can sign the lease after dinner. You passed.” 

He gets up off the couch, his distinct smoke smell leaving the room with him. You turn to Eren, the two of you smiling at each other as you lift your hands to high five. Eren holds your hand in the air, shaking your hand excitedly. 

“You passed, kitty.” 

“Where are we right now? Do you smell that? How does it smell like smoke and laundry at the same time? And what the fuck kind of question was that? I thought I was going to vomit. ” 

“Weird guy. Nice rent rates, though.”

“And Levi. He’s my physics professor. I literally had a crush on him. And his boyfriend, he was my political science professor too. I even stayed over at their house once. This is about to be super weird.” 

“Why did you stay at their house?” 

“I didn’t have a place to stay! This was before you offered, when I was jumping houses.”

“Were they loud at night?” 

“Ew. Don’t put that thought in my head. I’m going to vomit.” 

“Save it for later.” 

“As if. I can hold my drink. Trust me.” 

 - 

You and Eren are seated directly across from Levi and Erwin at the dinner table, Kuchel and Kenny taking the heads of the tables at the ends. A large part of this feels like you and Eren are intruding on a very special moment, but you ignore that and dig into the food. 

Right. For some reason, Kenny picked Thanksgiving food for the menu. In the middle of September. Like full on turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce. 

“So, do you like Thanksgiving, Kenny?” 

“I hate fascism, Y/N. No, I do not like Thanksgiving.” 

You look over at Eren, trying your best to contain your laughter, as Kenny goes on, rambling about something you’re not quite sure about. Everything Eren said was slowly starting to fall into place - you really can’t turn down drinks from the guy. He’d already made you try three different drinks he made and you had only been here for an hour. And the pink lemonade was actually disgusting, Eren’s just a liar. 

Kuchel turns to the two of you, flashing you both a big smile.

“Say Eren. You never told us you got a pretty girlfriend.” 

You and Eren both choke on your food, clearing your throats. 

“Ah. I’m not Eren’s girlfriend. We just live together. Friends.” 

“Uh huh. Right. What a shame. You two are so sweet together. Sharing your sweet little smiles, playing footsie under the table.” 

You immediately drag your foot off of Eren’s under the table, embarrassed that she had caught that. Every time Levi rolled his eyes, Eren tapped your foot to get your attention, the two of you trying not to laugh. It’s not your fault that rolling his eyes is basically like blinking to Levi. 

“Ma. Leave them alone, yeah? They’re just kids, they don’t know what they feel.” 

“I have to agree with Lee’ here, Mrs. Ackerman. Surely, they just haven’t reached that stage yet.” 

“You call Levi Lee’, Erwin? That’s so sweet. Oh you two are just perfect and I-” 

The four of you five of you watch Kuchel burst into tears, taking turns pressing kisses to everyone's cheeks at the table. You and Eren included. When she sits down, Eren leans over, whispering in your ear. 

“She’s like Annie on hour five of being drunk.” 

“More like hour one.” 

You both laugh, silently eating your food as you watch them interact with each other again. Some parts of it feel like a reality tv show. Kenny’s is downright ridiculous - he’s been hurling out whatever comes to his mind. He told Eren that he seemed like the type to commit genocide in another life and then told Erwin that he would be a corrupt military man. 

Kuchel is sweet. Almost two sweet. She spent a large majority of the night crying, telling baby stories about Levi when he was a kid. You don’t miss the way Levi’s ears turn red when she confesses that Levi used to be scared of the toilet when he was younger. 

Best of all are Levi and Erwin. You don’t miss the glances between them - the silent communication they had going on at the table. It’s like the rest of you weren’t even here. That’s where you think Eren got the idea, the tapping on the feet. A signal that you were going to talk laugh about it later. 

- 

Eight drinks in and Kenny is blasting music, doing a solo interpretive dance to Etta James. You and Levi are in one corner with Kuchel, Erwin, and Eren in the other. 

“I can’t believe this guy is your uncle. Did you ever do a DNA test?” 

“Hundreds.”

You turn your neck to find Levi, staring across Erwin on the other side of the room. You follow his gaze, watching Kuchel pinch Eren’s cheeks and Erwin laugh at the two of them. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“With Eren. You like him right?” 

You look down into your cup, the opaque liquid staring back at you. Erwin had made you a fruity drink, to which Kenny responded “everything about this guy is fruity!” 

“Yeah.” 

“He doesn’t like you back?” 

“No.” 

“I didn’t like Erwin at first. He was too much - pretentious, arrogant, irrational at times.” 

“But?” 

“But, he was my best friend. At some point, all the love and admiration I had for him just became something more. Like, yeah, he was my favorite person to be around but then I wanted to be around him all the time. Tell him the good things, the bad things. Share something with him, anything, everything. I…I didn’t hate myself when I was with him.” 

You smile, squeezing Levi’s shoulder in your hands. 

“That’s sweet, Levi. I’m happy for you.” 

He gives you a small smile, turning his neck back to look at them across the hall. 

“Be his friend. Maybe he’ll come around.” 

 - 

Six drinks in and Eren is feeling buzzed. He was trying his best to pace himself, make sure he was sane enough to take you home at the end of the night. He could tell by the glazed look in your eyes that you were getting there, close to being fully plastered. 

He turns his neck, scanning for you around the room. You kept disappearing. But there you were, directly across from him, leaning against the wall from Levi. He meets your eyes and you give him a soft smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. His heart’s pounding. 

“Do you like her, Eren? Oh please say that you do.” 

Kuchel is squeezing his shoulders, her eyes lighting up in excitement. 

“Yeah. Maybe a little bit.” 

“Oh, oh, oh. You have to tell her. Don’t let her get away now!” 

“Ah, I tried. She doesn’t like me.” 

He watches her face droop, Erwin shaking his head in the air. Both of their cheeks are flushed pink, the cups they were holding shaking in their hands. Surely the only people who were at least somewhat sober were you and Eren, which was saying a lot. 

“You know, Eren. I knew Levi was the one the moment I saw him.” 

“Really?” 

“I liked him so much, I wanted him around. In whatever sense that means. Even if he only wanted to be my friend.” 

“He didn’t want to be with you?”

“Oh no, he loathed me. Like full of hatred.” 

“And that didn’t…bother you?” 

“Maybe a little bit, but we became friends after that. And I just wanted him around. Whatever way he would have me. Even just being his friend, getting to see him everyday, that was enough for me.” 

Eren cranes his neck back over, where Kenny has his arms slung around you and Levi. He’s forcing the two of you to sign with him - Levi looking downright murderous while you flash Kenny a polite smile. 

“Just be her friend, Eren. Maybe she’ll come around like Levi did.” 

 - 

You can’t hold your drink. Obviously. But Eren knew that already. He had been watching you for a better part of the last hour, your inhibitions absent. Erwin had made you yet another fruit themed drink, which you were all too happy to down. The second he saw the glass hit your hand, he’d focused all of his best efforts in trying to sober up, calm the thrill running through his blood. 

You had made your way back over to him after some time, the two of you on the couch. You were leaning your head against his shoulder, your breaths heavy and uneven. At the sight of Kenny - who was now singing with Kuchel on the table - you suddenly perk up, your hands pressed against his shoulders as you lean over him. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm, peaches?” 

“I have a plan.” you whisper, your eyes somewhere between delirious and devious. 

“Uh huh. What’s that?” 

“You and I should sign the lease now. Then mail the letters. That way, we can leave and Kenny can’t get mad because we basically did him a favor. We’ll just tell Levi in case he asks.” you whisper, a smile spreading across your face. 

You’re drunk out of your mind. Not that Eren himself isn’t drunk either, he can certainly feel the buzz he was trying to will away living, but he’s not as gone as you. 

“Genius idea.” 

“I know right!” 

He was being sarcastic, but you had already jumped off the couch, to where Levi and Erwin were standing in the corner. He quickly follows, catching up to balance you as you stumble over to where the two of them were standing. 

“So. Levi. Right, hi Levi.” 

He’s mentally debating if he should stop you. You are very plastered and could potentially say something embarrassing. But there’s something so funny, so endearing about the determined little look on your face that he decides against it, letting you go on. 

“You’re a man.” 

He watches the confusion spread across Levi’s already strained face, his eyes flitting between you and Eren. 

“And you, Erwin, are a man too. You two are men.” 

“That’s correct, Y/N. You’re very perceptive.” 

Eren tries his best to conceal his laughter, as you go on, talking to the two of them. You’re definitely worse than Annie. 

“Marriage. It’s a thing, you know? And a man can do it. And a woman can too. And you are a man and he is a man and you can both do that. And we want to come to that. Like go to there.” 

How did you get from talking about the lease to marriage?

“Eren. What is she going on about?” 

“We’re going to sign the lease papers and mail them on our way out so we can leave. We have to be up early tomorrow and she literally cannot drink more. We were going to ask if you could let Kenny know tomorrow and tell him to be easy on us.” 

“You drive here?” 

“No. Train. We’ll be fine to get back, Levi. I got her.” 

He nods. Eren doesn’t miss the look Erwin and Levi give each other as the two of you lock hands, tip-toeing into Kenny’s office. Of course Erwin told him. 

The two of you quickly rush out, laughing as you run down the block before any of them notice. You slow down as you pass the corner, the two of you strolling the rest of the way down the block back to the train station. He can tell you’re winding down by the way you’re leaning against him, skipping steps. 

The train car is empty, this being the last train leaving the station. He settles the two of you into the seats at the front, getting in first. 

“Ren. Can I have the window?” 

He nods, wordlessly changing seats with you. This seat’s better anyways. You look out the window. And he can look at you. 

You lean over, your eyes drooping as you lean over. He’s not sure what it is, maybe Kenny’s rancid tequila is still running through his bloodstream, but he locks his hand with yours, pressing his fingers against the scar in between your knuckles. 

“I…miss you, Y/N. Being your friend.” 

He watches your expression drop, your eyes fluttering fully open. 

“You don’t think we’re friends?” 

“No! I mean, yes. I just didn’t realize you thought we were still friends. After everything that happened, the fight we had I just kind of- I don’t know.” 

You’re quiet for some time and he can see the gears moving in your head. Your eyes are now pinched shut, your forehead scrunched in concentration. Maybe this was the right time to say this. Hopefully, you don’t even remember tomorrow. 

“Are we in second grade, Ren? Do you really not think we’re friends?” 

Of course. The words he said to you, the day you were sick. 

“We are still friends. I just meant, it was different for the past few days. But today, this was…nice. I enjoyed it.” 

You smile in response, the two of you leaning your heads against the back of the seats, the only sound being the whirring of the train behind you. 

“Y/N. You wouldn’t really move out, would you?” 

“I was hoping you forgot about that. It’s my fault. I kind of…get in my head sometimes, I don’t know.”

“About?”  

“I thought you didn’t want me around. So I didn’t want to be around you. I thought you hated me or something.” 

“Y/N. Look at me.” 

His eyes are dark, the same way as when Levi mentioned you were looking for another roommate. 

“I could never hate you.” 

“I know, I just meant-” 

“No. You clearly don’t know.” 

You turn over to find an irritated look plastered on his face, his jaw clenched shut. You press your fingers against his shoulder, squeezing twice to get his attention. He flutters his eyes open, leaning down to look at you. 

“You’re special to me. I don’t understand what I did that made you think I would ever make fun of you or hate you. You...piss me off when you say stuff like-” 

He’s cut off by you placing your hand on his cheek, your eyes peering into his. 

“Sorry, Ren.’ 

“S’okay. I know why you do it. But just remember, I’m not your stupid old roommates or your lame ex-boyfriend or anyone who ever made you feel that way. You and I are-” 

“Friends.” 

Not what he quite had in mind, but he’ll take it.

“Yeah. You can tell me anything.” 

“Okay. You too.” 

He sees you smile, your eyes wafting shut against his shoulders. He can feel the pit in his stomach burning, the exact same way it did every time you did something. When you smiled at him, fixed his hair, got him coffee. God, he still loves you. 

“So Ren. Do you want to hang out after recess?” 

“Shut up. You’re so corny, kitty.” 

“Ew.” 

- 

The next morning, Eren makes you breakfast and you sing in the shower. Progress. 

- 

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 11)

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

Eight weeks.

It’s been eight weeks since the tour. Y/N grows more anxious with each passing day, waking from terrible nightmares alone. She finds Haymitch sitting on the couch, with a bottle in hand.

“You need to sleep,” he says after a long moment.

“I can’t,” she argues.

“Come here.” Haymitch waits until she is settled, with her head in his lap, before throwing the blanket over her. “Close your eyes.”

She nuzzles against his thigh, utterly exhausted but unwilling to return to the horror of her dreams.

In truth, that’s why he’s forsaken the warmth of their bed for the couch. They’re coming up on a Quarter Quell…and anything can happen in a Quarter Quell. He knows that better than anyone, after being reaped with double the tributes.

He peeks down. Her eyes are closed; breathing too fast, her muscles rigid. “You’re safe.” Haymitch murmurs, “it’s just you and me.” These whispers continue until she snores lightly.

He wakes with a hand still twined in hers and a kink in his neck, from sleeping upright.

Y/N doesn’t stir as he stretches and yawns to the patter of little feet on the second floor. Haymitch stumbles into the kitchen, flipping on the burner to start breakfast.

“Honk.”

He turns with the spatula in hand. Surely he is dreaming, or perhaps the years have slowly driven him insane. But he knows for certain that damn goose is not in his house, again. And if it were, it sure as hell wouldn’t have the audacity to honk at him.

“Get,” Haymitch warns, shooing the beast out through the back door. It wails at him all the while, rousing Y/N.

She rubs her eyes, trying to make sense of the scene. “Louie?”

“Honk.”

“Don’t say his name.” Haymitch grunts, closing the door harshly behind the animal.

Y/N laughs, “how’d he get in here?”

“I had the sliding door open for some fresh air.”

“Smells good,” she takes another whiff.

“I made breakfast.”

“Thank you,” she forces herself from the cushions. Brushing past her husband toward the bathroom.

Haymitch is in a better mood when she returns. Everest and Arista are seated at the island, scarfing down pancakes as Haymitch fills them in on the goose fiasco.

“I turn around and he’s standing there.” Haymitch points to the exact spot.

Arista gasps, resorting to his full name, “Louis.”

“Had to chase him out with the spatula.”

Everest chuckles, around a forkful of eggs.

“You didn’t hit him, right Daddy?” Arista looks up with those big eyes, the same color as Y/N’s.

“No,” Haymitch sighs, “I didn’t hit him.”

Y/N comes to collect her plate, standing beside Haymitch, opposite the kids.

“You can sit down.” He smirks, watching her take the first bite.

“I’m ok,” she bumps his hip with her own. They are fuller now, at seven months pregnant. “I’ll just hang out here with you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Stay with me forever.

“Hey mom,” Everest calls her attention.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we can plant some of the seeds Peeta gave me?”

The geese have done a number on their garden.

“Yeah, we can do that.” Y/N agrees, wanting to soak up as much time with them as she can before the baby.

They haven’t talked much about names. Even the crib resides in one of the spare rooms, untouched, unprepared.

————————————————————————

“Oh, Katniss.” Octavia, of her prep team, has tears in her eyes at the sight. “You look beautiful.”

The Capitol has chosen this dress; the dress. The one she’ll be married in, though it needs quite a bit of alteration.

“Is that my dress?” Y/N chokes out. She thought it might be strung up in a museum somewhere, immortalized as one of Snow’s trophies, or sold to the highest bidder. She thought she’d never see it again; not now. Not on Katniss.

Katniss opens her mouth to speak. Though it isn’t her choice, she feels sick.

“She can’t wear this dress.”

“It’s what the people chose, dear. Because you’re a family,” Flavius explains. “Don’t you want Katniss to feel the way you did on your special day? We can always alter it again to fit your daughter, when the time comes.”

“No,” Y/N breathes, this can’t be happening, “no, where’s Cinna?”

“I’m here.” He emerges from the hall, scraps of ivory fabric draped over one shoulder.

“I need to talk to you, please.” Y/N is visibly shaking as Cinna follows her to the sitting room, closing the glass door so Katniss has no chance of overhearing. But she can still see them.

Her mentor’s frantic explanation, Cinna’s steadying hand at her shoulder as he listens. Gaze changing quickly from sadness to anger, mirroring Y/N’s. Cinna nods, one final time before Y/N squeezes his upper arm in parting.

“We’re going to make some changes.” The stylist says upon his return.

“Y/N,” Katniss calls from the pedestal, unable to go after her. “Wait.”

“I’ll be back.”

“I’m sorry.” Katniss apologies, for whatever she’s done.

“No, don’t be. It’s-” Y/N breaks off, “nothing. I just need to see Haymitch.” She rushes out before Katniss can get a word in.

Cinna begins sketching out a few new additions, taking away the old, making it new.

“Is there something wrong with this dress?” She asks, itching to remove it.

Cinna shakes his head, even he has trouble looking at her in it now that he knows. “Nothing we can’t fix.”

Katniss recounts the events to Peeta later that night, he doesn’t fully understand either.

“It’s like she was afraid of the dress…or what would happen to me while I was in it.” Katniss looks down at her hands. “Maybe something happened to her.”

Peeta swallows hard, the more they learn about the Capitol, the more reason he has to believe… “I think a lot of things happened to her.”

————————————————————————

Commander Thread arrives within the week. Tearing through the hob, taking away what little they have and screwing down a big metal whipping post in the square.

The chaos is not missed by the inhabitants of victor’s village, Katniss least of all. Pushing her way through the crowd to find the source of the tortured screams echoing out into the streets.

Interrupting Gale’s punishment earns her a black eye, with a gash underneath and one lash to the outside of her thigh, on the eve of the big wedding. When she stands again, she is faced with the barrel of Thread’s gun.

The first person to rise to her aid is the last person who should be standing between Katniss and a bullet. Shoving Katniss behind her with one arm, the other held protective over her growing child. Explaining who she is and talking him down. Thread recognizes her, Katniss too after a moment; if he kills them it will be his head on the chopping block.

Haymitch is fuming when he finds them there. Furious with both Y/N and Katniss for putting themselves in harm’s way. Peeta arrives on scene, another person for Haymitch to shove behind him without a second thought.

“You sure Snow wants four dead victors? Because that’s what we’re looking at here.” Haymitch reasons, holding both hands in the air. “It’s bad enough that you marked up Katniss’ face on the eve of the big wedding. My wife is carrying the most eagerly anticipated baby in Panem, all this stress isn’t good. Let it go…and we will too.”

“Fine,” the commander licks his lips, “but next time it’s the firing squad.”

“Excellent idea.”

The flogging is broadcast to the nation on a five second delay, cutting out just after Katniss jumps in.

No one sees past that point except the president. Again, the victors of district twelve have proven themselves to be a united front. A family of agitators beyond reason, who consider themselves above the law. Snow knows exactly what he must do and Plutarch already has a plan.

“It’s what we gamemakers like to call a wrinkle.”

————————————————————————

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games.”

Everest and Arista are off playing with Madge and Y/N’s parents, leaving the eldest victors of district twelve to sit silently in front of the projector.

“It was written in the charter of the games, that every twenty-five years there would be a Quarter Quell, to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is marked by games of a special significance.”

Y/N skates her thumb over Haymitch’s knuckles hoping to comfort him.

“On this the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell.” Snow pulls the card free from its envelope. “As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”

“What?” Y/N leans forward, surely she misunderstood.

Haymitch grips his glass with enough force to shatter it, broken shards falling to the floor. He is bleeding, but he can’t feel it. The anger, the fear, the rage swallows the initial bite of pain.

“The victors will present themselves on reaping day; regardless of age, situation, or state of health.”

Y/N examines his wounds, scarlet pooling across his palm and fingers.

“Leave it, angel.” Haymitch warns, needing it to tether him to reality. Proof that this is more than a nightmare.

“I need to check on Peeta and Katniss.” Y/N remembers, pushing past the clouded lens of her own mind. “Let me take care of you before I go.”

“I need you to leave it.” He says a second time.

“Ok- I,” there are no words. Not as she stands, or presses her lips to the crown of his head and leaves. Instead she focuses on her steps, one foot in front of the other.

Haymitch stays there, unmoving, allowing his blood to stain the pristine fabric of the couch’s armrest. The front door creaks open, enough to startle him to action, he doesn’t want his children to see. Instead he tosses the throw blanket over the evidence.

“Where’s Y/N?” Katniss demands, identifying herself as the intruder.

“Ah, it’s just you.” Haymitch whips the fabric off, using it to gather the broken glass. “Take a seat.”

“We have to save them.”

“Finally done the math, have you?” Haymitch muses.

Promises are easier to make than keep. Asking for Peeta and Y/N to live is essentially asking each other to die. That’s not something that Haymitch can bring himself to do. But he does agree to volunteer for Peeta; with a sneaking suspicion that Katniss will do the same when it comes down to it.

Y/N is good, kind and selfless. Katniss has known it from the day they trained together, on the mat of the tribute center, what feels like a lifetime ago. The same way Peeta is good, willing to stand by her, comfort and protect her, at his own expense.

“Haymitch!” The sound of it is awful, wretched from Y/N’s throat.

“What’s the matter?” Haymitch stands immediately, as does Katniss, rushing toward the entryway.

“I went to check on Peeta,” Y/N flies into his arms, closed eyes shining with tears.

“You’re ok,” Haymitch murmurs, smoothing down her hair.

“But I couldn’t find,” Y/N opens her eyes to find the very person she’s been losing her mind over. “Katniss.”

Haymitch releases her. Relieved that the cause of her anguish is nothing more than a misunderstanding.

“Katniss.”

Katniss embraces her, holding fast, like it might save her, like it might change anything. In Katniss’ mind there was always some understanding, that Peeta is to Y/N as she is to Haymitch.

They fit together crudely, like an ill crafted puzzle. Even still, Katniss can no longer deny that Y/N loves her just as fiercely. No different than her own child. “Sorry I scared you. I just had to get out of there.” My mom’s screams…Prim’s questions.

“It’s ok,” Y/N pulls back to look at her. Stroking her thumbs over the blotchy apples of her victor’s cheeks. “We don’t know who they’re gonna pick.”

Katniss nods, allowing Y/N to fuss about her. Needing it just as badly, though she would never ask.

“But we know all of the victors and depending upon the reaping, I have some ideas for potential strategies and alliances-”

“You know it’s me.” Katniss says finally, voice breaking over the last word. “If the only choice is you or me in that arena, I’m the one Snow wants dead.”

“We don’t know that, sweetheart.” Haymitch scrubs his unmarred hand over his face.

“And he’d prefer you dead over Peeta.” Katniss points out, not in the mood to sugarcoat.

“You’re right,” Haymitch admits. “We know the bowls are rigged, but we don’t know how. If they want entertainment and shock value, it’s gonna be us together.” He flicks a finger between himself and Y/N. “Or you and Peeta together. We’re all star crossed lovers now and I promise you, we won’t be the only ones. It’ll be lovers, siblings, friends. If Snow’s doing it to punish us.” Now the finger is pointed at Katniss. “He’s sending in Y/N and Peeta. If it’s simply to eliminate their problems, that’d be you and me, kid. And we won’t have any idea what their angle is until reaping day.”

Part 12

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating

[hugheses]

love your scholarship 🥸

do you know anything about their school/college days - ie if they liked school/had favourite subjects/took particular classes? if Quinn and Luke declared majors at mich?

also if they’ve ever said what they read? think I read that Jack says he likes to read (sports books maybe?) in his spare time and one in of Ellen’s interviews she talks about reading (to them?) and somewhere else about how she was super involved in their academics

The teacher in me is fascinated!

quinn was enrolled in the school of kinesiology and majoring in sports management.

in 2021 he said

If you weren’t a hockey player, what else might you be doing? — Veronica X. I don’t know, I love golf. I’d probably be golfing a lot. I’d be in school somewhere … I’d be a senior right now so I’d probably be getting my degree in the next couple of weeks. Maybe business or sport management? That’s what I was looking at at Michigan for two years.

luke's intended major was also sports management. he was taking a business management class and fumbled his part on a group project when he signed with the devils. he took a greek sports history class and talked about how he doesn't love school but he likes history here (worth listening to imo) and he also enjoyed history of college athletics. luke actually took an online college class before officially starting at umich

"I'm taking an online chemistry class to get it off my plate. I wake-up and do two hours of that and then I go and work out with [trainer] Brian Gallivan and then I skate and then just chill by the pool and hang out. It's been nice."

here's a snippet from quinn about books

Hughes has become an avid reader to expand his knowledge and make better use of downtime. He recently completed “The Boys in the Boat” historical epic that was made into a movie directed by George Clooney. “I buried it, it’s done,” Hughes proudly stated Tuesday after practice. “I finished it three weeks ago. Great book. Page turner. I’m reading ‘Moneyball’ now.” “Boys in the Boat” is a riveting and true account of how the Depression-era University of Washington junior varsity rowing team stunned the world by overcoming immense odds to capture gold at the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Joe Rantz was a driving force for the eight-man crew. A strong rower with an unshakeable disposition sounds a lot like the driven Hughes. “I thought Joe was just a hard worker who did his job and was a quiet guy,” said Hughes. “He appreciated everything that came his way. He pretty much raised himself from the age of 10 and was a very outdoors person.”

he apparently is "reading a book almost weekly to try to improve his brain" and he also was spotted reading Stay Sane in an Insane World: How to Control the Controllables and Thrive

jack likes reading sports books as said here, specifically Eleven Rings: The Soul of Success and Three-Ring Circus: Kobe, Shaq, Phil, and the Crazy Years of the Lakers Dynasty. The Mamba Mentality: How I Play was on his reading list in high school. he also talks about books here

Craig: The other thing that (Williams) said was reading. He said you’re asking for book recs. We’re looking for book recs. We’re big readers. Jack: Yeah, you guys got any? I dunno. (I’m tired of) everything on my phone, social media, things like that — and I never went to college, so you gotta get smarter somehow. Craig: Are you a fiction guy? Are you a self-improvement guy? What do you find yourself gravitating towards? Jack: I read a lot of sports books. “Eleven Rings,” by Phil Jackson. Also, “Greenlights” by Matthew McConaughey. Those are my favorite ones I’ve read recently. It’s important. We’ve got a lot of down time on the road, so it’s good stuff.

as for ellen, she said this in the cammi & aj podcast

So for me, you do things that you enjoy or you- you teach them things that you feel like you can teach them, Right. So it's kind of a slight on me that I wasn't more worldly and wanting to take them to museums. Or maybe like I felt like I had do those things because like, ‘Oh my God, what am I teaching them?’ But you tend to do the things that you - you're trying to find activities. Jimmy was off coaching a lot, I had three young boys that were really close in age. So what do I know? What can I do to pass time and keep them active? It was kicking a soccer ball. It was throwing a ball, it was doing rollerblading, it was passing the puck, it was taking them skating. So for me, those were mommy and me activities, right? And then every once in a while I'd be like, you know, I'd be like, ‘uh, we got to do Kumon, we gotta do like - we gotta read.’ You know, academics was really important to me because I felt like I was so driven the other way that like, I didn’t want to miss out on the other. So for us, it was never this grandiose plan, and I'm sure you guys were the same way. It was more like, ‘be the best at whatever it is you're doing, work your hardest at whatever it is you're doing.’ Working the hardest didn't mean scoring the most goals. It was playing the right way, whatever it is, being a great teammate and working really, really hard and we always felt like the other would come.

other potentially interesting notes, jack was an honor roll student in 8th grade, and quinn agreed he was the best at school when they were younger, so it's funny he's the one who didn't end up going to college. ellen's brother is actually the president of denison university and they have some pretty academic cousins also.

[marvelmusing]

Hate Loving You

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Working for Aleksander and Alina Morozova drives you to insanity and beyond. No one has ever made you feel so frustrated, embarrassed, and unbelievably aroused. Officially you’re their personal driver, but you know deep down that you’re actually just their favourite plaything.

Warnings [18+]: smut, minor angst, uneven power dynamic, the consent isn’t explicit but it’s there, spanking, pain kink, breast play, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, sir/ma’am kink, sadistic!darklina, free use vibes, masturbation, sex toys, sharing of explicit photos & videos, sexting, exhibitionism, fingering/double penetration combo (fingering with two people’s fingers), choking, bondage, dacryphilia, hair pulling, spitting, car sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, size kink, darklina are what I’m deciding to call ‘deliciously awful’ in this AU. If I’ve missed anything let me know.

@becauseicantthinkwritings <- chelsea, your tag as requested, enjoy x

A/N: there is most definitely typos in this fic, but it’s way too long for me to do a full proof read at the moment so I’ll probably fix those later

My Masterlist

Aleksander Morozova is one of the most insufferable men you’ve ever met. He’s cold and curt and there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes whenever someone else experiences humiliation or disgrace. His wife isn’t any better. Alina Morozova’s words are always sharp, her smirk ever present and your skin crawls whenever her attention lingers on you.

They are both ridiculously attractive, but it doesn’t make working for the couple any more bearable. If anything - it makes it worse. As their personal driver, you’re at their beck and call every hour of the day.

Aleksander owns his own luxury car business, working as both the CEO and lead designer. As a result, the entire contents of their home garage is Morozova cars. It pains you to admit it, but his cars are the nicest you’ve ever driven.

They are both borderline arrogant about their riches, utterly confident in their status as one of Ravka’s wealthiest couples. The way Aleksander looks down at you makes you burn from the inside. Alina always traces her hand over your shoulder as she climbs out of the car, perfectly manicured nails scraping over your clothing. She tosses her car keys deliberately to the side of you, so that you have to bend down to retrieve them.

The two of them are particularly fond of car sex, a discovery you had made during your first week working for them.

“Sasha, please, I want your cock in me,” Alina pleads quietly, her voice breathy as she grinds down on her husband’s lap.

Heart pounding, you slowly inch your finger towards the button that will lift the screen between where you’re sitting at the wheel and where the two of them are kissing passionately on the back seat of the car. There’s a low mechanic hum as the screen begins to rise and you flinch at the sound.

Subconsciously, you glance up at the rearview mirror, meeting the intense gaze of both Aleksander and Alina.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asks sharply. Words fade on the tip of your tongue as you struggle to gather up an explanation.

“I was- I was just going to give you some privacy, sir.”

“Did we ask for such a thing?”

“Well, no, but I thought-” He clicks his tongue at you disapprovingly.

“Don’t think. Keep your eyes on the road.”

He had then preceded to fuck his wife slowly, easing Alina onto his cock, and you had seen every second of it in the tiny mirror above your head. Her dark eyes widening at the stretch of him pushing into her cunt. Her brows creasing as he thumbed at her sensitive clit. Her plush lips parting as she gasped and moaned.

The sound of her whining for more, the slap of skin against skin, and the lewd sloppiness gathering between her thighs now lives in the back of your mind. Every time you attempt to touch yourself, a heavy breath or the sound of your slick-covered fingers will have your mind falling back onto Alina and Aleksander.

At first you had resisted these thoughts. Pushing away the idea of Aleksander fucking you against the hood his car, or Alina sucking hard on your clit with the intention of making you squirt over the backseat of her car. None of their drivers had ever been allowed in their house, but occasionally the thought of being in their bed crosses your mind as a moment of indulgence.

The desire you feel around them doesn’t often distract you while working, since their behaviour usually manages to taper any arousal that might arise in you.

“What are you doing here?” Aleksander asks. There’s no care or even curiosity in his voice - only what sounds like a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to watch him walk through his garage, Alina close behind him. They’re both dressed for dinner - Aleksander’s usual black suit and tie and a low cut dress of deep midnight blue for Alina. The click of her heels echoes over smooth concrete.

“You called for me.”

The corner of Aleksander’s mouth twitches as he rounds one of his cars, the lights flashing as he unlocks the vehicle.

“And like a little puppy, you came for us.”

There’s something warm yet mocking in his voice and Alina laughs while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. She grins at the sight of you so flushed and frustrated - once again they’ve ruined your night by calling you in only to dismiss you once you arrive.

“We won’t be needing you tonight,” she informs you, shooting her husband a grin as she slips into the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Right now, frustration is crawling under your skin, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel as you wait for the traffic ahead of you to move. Alina giggles from the backseat and the muscle in your jaw tightens. The sound of lips meeting makes something sharp stir in your stomach and you fight the urge to look in the rearview mirror.

Aleksander and Alina have a guest with them.

Zoya Nazyalensky. A tight silver dress clinging to her every curve, bronze thighs on display as the fabric slides upwards. Alina’s hand is settled on her legs, gliding upwards as they kiss. Aleksander grips the back of Zoya’s neck, fingers threading through her dark locks as he takes control of the kiss between her and his wife.

As much as you had fantasised about it late at night, you hadn’t even considered the fact that the couple might want to bring another person into their bed. The fact that they had picked someone as alluring as Zoya has your stomach sinking.

Alina moans softly and you press your knees together. It doesn’t help that you had been on a date when they had called for you to drive them home - meaning you’re not wearing your usual work attire. The bare skin of your thighs brush together and sparks thrum up to your cunt at the barest hint of contact. The date hadn’t been going particularly well, but you had still been hoping to take the girl home for some fun.

Instead, you’re working, listening to Aleksander and Alina enjoy the company of another person - a person who isn’t you. Not that you stand much of a chance, competing with someone like Zoya. A silly sense of disappointment settles in your chest.

Red lights catch the corner of your vision. It’s barely even a conscious thought, your foot landing heavily on the break pedal. There’s a halt in the low conversation and soft giggles that had been occurring in the backseat. The ringing in your ears echoes in the silence as you wait for the lights to change.

Aleksander murmurs something to Zoya and Alina laughs. Too busy trying to focus on the road and calm your pounding heart, you can’t work out what any of them are saying - though you aren’t sure you want to hear them.

When you arrive at Zoya’s house, the three of them climb out of the car as you expected. But what you hadn’t expected was for Aleksander to reach around your seat and place a firm hand on your shoulder. You know he feels you startle at the contact.

“Keep the car running for us.”

Alina’s hands wander as she bids Zoya a good night, and stupid, shameful tears burn in the back of your eyes as you watch them in the wing mirror of the car. Aleksander takes Zoya’s chin between his fingers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips and you force yourself to look away.

The drive to Aleksander and Alina’s house is mostly silent. The two of them exchange knowing looks that have nerves coursing beneath your skin. On several occasions, you catch Alina watching you with a smirk that makes you shiver. Aleksander seems as composed as ever, though there’s a glint in his eyes whenever he manages to hold your gaze.

The silence continues as you arrive at their front gates and as you drive into their large garage. They both get out first and you sit in the empty car for a moment to compose yourself. When you manage to gain enough courage to get out, you find the two of them waiting for you.

No words are exchanged as you walk by them both, heading towards your own car at the very end of the garage. The weight of their combined gaze makes you shiver. Aleksander’s voice is dark as he speaks in a low tone.

“You were sloppy tonight.”

The bottom of your stomach sinks and your footsteps halt.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t.” His response makes you look at him. “Lift your skirt up.”

Bafflement splays itself over your features as you turn your head to look at them both, blinking at his request. Embarrassment burns through your body when you remember you aren’t wearing any panties.

Warmth spreads over your cheeks as you do as he says, the cool air meeting your bare skin. At the sight of your bare lower half, Alina wolf-whistles lowly, a wide grin tugging at her lips, and your gaze drops to the concrete.

“Turn around,” Aleksander orders.

Vulnerability prickles over your skin as you turn, giving your back to Aleksander.

“Sir-”

“Bend over.”

“What?”

He places his hand on the nape of your neck, squeezing firmly and the force of his hand on your body has you tensing as your body submits to him.

“Bend over.”

He smacks your ass hard and a startled whimper escapes from the back of your throat. He does it again, a sharp sting burning over your skin in the wake of his hand. The metal ring on his smallest finger bites into your skin and a shudder rolls down your spine. Tears gather in your eyes, humiliation and desperate arousal filling your entire body, and the skin tingles from the impact of his hand as he hits you again.

He spreads your cheeks, pinching the flushed skin as he inspects the glistening slick gathered between your folds. With your cunt exposed, he lands another smack to your most sensitive area, his fingertips a hairsbreadth away from your clit and a wretched noise startles itself from deep in your chest.

“Please, sir,” you whine. They both laugh.

Shameful arousal pools in your stomach, embarrassment prickling over your skin as you shift your thighs together to relieve the ache in your core - earning yourself another smack from Aleksander. A broken moan reverberates in your throat and Alina sighs softly.

Glancing up at her, you see she’s leaning against the hood of her car, hands wandering over her bare thighs, fingers brushing gently against smooth skin and you swallow hard at the sight of her. There’s a dark, knowing glimmer in her eyes, mirth filling her expression and your cunt throbs almost painfully. Her ankles cross lightly, pristine heels side by side as she lifts her chin up to stare at you.

Aleksander continues spanking you, his large palms landing flat against your ass cheeks. He changes the speed and force regularly, never allowing you a moment to adjust to the rhythm.

Some of his smacks sting, pain prickling over your skin and dancing down the length of your legs, whilst others thud, jostling your entire body as pleasure rockets up your spine. His other hand holds a fistful of your hair, keeping your head up so that Alina can watch your expression change with each strike of his hand.

Tears drip down your face, splashing onto the smooth grey concrete beneath you and desperation heaves at your shoulders. Over the past week, they’ve kept you working so much that you’ve had no time to pleasure yourself - too exhausted after work to gather the necessary energy. As a result, shameful arousal now glosses over your thighs.

“What would you do if we left you like this?” Aleksander asks cruelly, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your poor, neglected little cunt. Whatever brittle dignity you have left, it snaps in your chest and you beg hurriedly in a broken whimper,

“Please don’t.”

Alina laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut. The sound of her heels clicking over concrete has arousal and anticipation stirring in your stomach. Then she takes your chin between her fingers, pinching hard. When you make a small whimper of protest, your eyes fluttering open, she pouts mockingly at you.

She exchanges a heated look with her husband and before you can react he pulls on your hair, straightening your back so that you’re pressed flush against his body. He wraps an arm around your waist, pinning you in place while Alina tugs at the straps on your shoulders, exposing your chest for her.

She sinks her teeth into the soft underside of your breast and a sharp sob catches in your throat as your cunt clenches uncontrollably. Pleasure and pain blur together as you writhe between Aleksander and Alina. The hard heat of his clothed cock presses into your back and all control you have over yourself spirals away from you.

Alina licks over your nipple, tongue tracing the bite marks left blooming on your skin and your heart pounds wildly as a familiar breathlessness descends. Tears spill down your face as her attention moves to your other breast. An animalistic cry shakes your body as she sucks hard on your nipple.

When her teeth nip at the hardened bud, pleasure thrums through your poor untouched cunt and your body plummets into an earth-shattering climax that takes everything from you. Sound disappears, your vision is consumed by stars and the frantic jerking of your body saps all your energy, leaving you exhausted.

Aleksander loosens his hold on you and instantly you sink onto the ground, pressing your head back against his thigh. He pets the top of your head, stroking your hair gently as Alina crouches down beside you.

“That was a big one, wasn’t it darling?” she coos softly, observing the haze in your eyes as your chest continues to heave.

“Alina,” you whisper weakly, reaching for her with shaky hands. Her expression melts somewhat, into something you’ve never seen from her before.

“Oh my lovely, were we too mean?”

There’s still an undertone of teasing as she pulls you gently into her lap. The bare skin of her thighs are smooth against your heated ass cheeks, but you whimper nevertheless at the contact. Alina wipes at the tear stains on your face.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson, little dove.”

“Lesson?” you repeat with widened eyes. Aleksander nods.

“About being jealous.”

Heat burns over your face as you realise how transparent you must have been this evening. Alina nudges your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze.

“That you’re our favourite toy to play with.”

“And that you belong to us. Only us,” he adds.

Turning to look at Aleksander, you realise that they must have heard you talking about your date with some other member of their staff. That the only reason they had called you tonight was to draw you away from your date. You’re not sure whether you should be flattered or annoyed with them.

Alina’s gaze is stern as she scours over your face, fingers squeezing at your chin.

“Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice faltering.

She smiles, ducking her head forward to press a kiss to your forehead and your heart flutters in your chest. Her nose nuzzles slightly against your temple and you lean closer.

“You’re dismissed for the evening.”

You blink at her, feeling her words cut into your chest.

“W- What?”

“Alina don’t be cruel,” Aleksander says warningly. But you’re already withdrawing yourself from her arms, stumbling to your feet and moving towards your car on shaky legs.

Tears blur your vision and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to cry.

“Little dove,” he calls out gently. Swallowing hard, you blink back your tears and turn to face him. He beckons, curling two fingers at you. “Come here.”

He cups your face in both his hands, fingers hooking beneath your jawline as he looks down at you. His dark eyes draw you in, sinking into the depth of his gaze that is the softest you’ve ever seen him.

“You’ve been a very good girl tonight.”

A warm blush heats at your cheeks, spreading down your neck and the only response you’re capable is a bashful whisper.

“Thank you.”

“Do you think you can drive yourself home, or shall I ask Ivan to take you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

He smiles indulgently and he looks so painfully handsome that your stomach flips at the sight of him - a stark contrast to the man who had punished you so thoroughly. His voice is a low coo, and you’re tempted to sink back down onto the ground when he says,

“Of course you will.”

The smile that tugs at the corner of your lips is shy and you can’t hold his gaze for very long, which seems to please him. He walks with you to your car, holding the door open for you to climb inside. Alina trails behind him, gaze heavy on you.

Once the door is closed behind you, he taps on the window, and you press down on the button in the door, lowering the glass for him.

“You’ll take tomorrow off.”

You can’t remember the last time they allowed you a day off that you didn’t have to grovel for.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect you to send us proof that our punishment was effective.”

Confusion sparks in your eyes as you look between him and Alina. It only takes a moment before she elaborates with a wicked glint in her dark eyes that roam hungrily over your body.

“We want photos of Sasha’s handprints on your ass and my bite marks on your tits. You think you can do that, baby?”

Words fail you, as does oxygen momentarily. Then you swallow hard, nodding jerkily.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grins.

Even as you begin to drive home, you feel untethered, almost disconnected from your body. It’s only once you collapse onto your sofa at home, curling in on yourself, that you begin to feel some semblance of your own self creep back into your chest. As you close your eyes, you bury your face into a cushion in an attempt at hiding from the rest of the world.

Then your doorbell chimes, shattering your delicate moment of peace with its cheery tune. With a small groan of effort, you drag yourself up towards the door.

There’s no one at the front door, only a small cardboard box on your doorstep. A frown creases at your brows as you blink at it, eyes scouring your surroundings for a clue regarding the sender. Then you spot one of Aleksander’s staff cars, and see Fedoyr and Ivan standing next to it. Ivan looks as gruff as ever, his arms crossed over his chest, while Fedoyr gives you a small wave before the two of them disappear into the vehicle.

After scooping up the box and carrying it inside, you sit down on your sofa, placing it in your lap and peering at the contents. The items you find there make you blush as you inspect each one. There’s a pair of silk panties that are undeniably Alina’s and you bite down on your lower lip as your fingers caress the smooth fabric.

There’s a slightly worn t-shirt folded carefully in the box, a soft grey material that smells like Aleksander. Beneath that is an expensive-looking bottle of body lotion. Cracking open the lid, you inhale the sweet scent and immediately recognise the fragrance - one of Alina’s favourite perfumes. It’s a subtle, and almost primal, claim on you, purposefully wrapping you in their scent.

Underneath both of these items, there’s something that flusters you even further. A vibrator - much better than any other that you own, with countless settings and long distance device pairing options.

It’s these gifts that give you the motivation to drag yourself into the shower.

The skin of your ass cheeks is slightly inflamed and sensitive, so you decide to abandon the thought of wearing any underwear to bed tonight. Instead, you gently pat your body over with a towel and head into your bedroom.

Skin flushed from the heat of your shower, you sit down on the end of your bed, and begin rubbing your new lotion over your body. The scent makes you think of Alina - her hands wandering over your form, squeezing and pinching and thoroughly exploring you.

Slipping on Aleksander’s shirt, your stomach flips as you wonder how he would react at the sight of you wearing it. There’s a dull thrum of arousal between your thighs at the thought and your mind wanders towards the vibrator still wrapped in its box.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon the plastic packaging and the box itself have been discarded onto the floor as you study the vibrator and accompanying instruction booklet. It’s simple enough - downloading the app and linking it to your phone. It’s only when you’re scrolling through the app settings that you notice something in particular.

Paired Devices:

- Aleksander Morozova

- Alina’s iPhone ☀️

Heat burns over your cheeks, flooding down your body, and you flick off the app as quickly as possible - as if they might catch you staring at their names.

The thought of them receiving a notification when you’re using the vibrator - and using the opportunity to take control of your pleasure whenever they want - has a peculiar sense of debased intrigue fluttering in your stomach. Knowing the two of them, it’s likely they would use this power to ruin any orgasm you might hope to experience with the toy in question.

The sight of yourself in the mirror captures your attention and you can’t help but stare at yourself. Lifting the hem of the shirt, you blink at the figure posed in the reflection. Skin bright and glossy, widened eyes admiring the wild smattering of marks blossoming over your breasts, created by Alina’s teeth.

Dragging your lower lip between your teeth, you glance at your phone, remembering Aleksander’s demand regarding the effectiveness of their punishment. The skin of your ass cheeks is still tender, slightly uncomfortable against the rough texture of your old cotton sheets.

Turning your body, you snap a few photos of your figure in the mirror, darkened bruises forming on your skin from Aleksander’s firm hand. Almost entranced by the images you’ve captured, you take a few close-ups of your breasts, focusing on the dark arches pressed into your skin by Alina’s teeth.

It’s as you’re admiring the photos that your phone buzzes with a text message.

Aleksander M: Did you receive our delivery, little dove?

You: yes

You: thank you sir

With shaky hands, you click on a selection of your favourite photos taken tonight, and press send. There’s a few seconds before the read receipt appears beneath your message and the anticipation becomes too much. Squeezing your eyes shut, you click your phone off and place it face down on your bed.

Then there’s a soft buzz.

Aleksander M: Good girl

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sliding your hands slowly up your body, you squeeze at your breasts, groping the sensitive flesh before you grasp lightly at your nipples. Sparks of pleasure thrums beneath your skin, need gathering between your thighs as you indulge yourself.

As your eyelids flutter closed, your mind wanders to the one surefire way of increasing your arousal. Thoughts of Aleksander and Alina fade in and out of your mind - flashes of their bodies, snippets of words and the way you burn with that dizzying mixture of arousal and embarrassment whenever they humiliate you.

One hand glides up to your neck, fingers wrapping around as much as you physically can. Aleksander’s hand would be so much bigger than yours, curling around the entirety of your throat, and you know Alina would squeeze with more force than you would dare to. A low moan of desperation catches in your throat as you slowly grind your hips upwards into nothing.

Tightening your hold on your neck, your other hand is free to wander over your body, playing with your nipples like Alina would. Slowly, you trace your hand down between your breasts, thumbnail scratching a line down the length of your body. With your eyes closed, you can almost imagine the delicate sting of pain is from the claw ring Aleksander wears on his smallest finger.

Desperate for an increase in sensation, you scrape your nails down your thighs, digging into the soft, sensitive skin there. As the need begins to impair your judgement, making your head grow fuzzy, you reach for your new vibrator.

The little device hums to life in your palm and vibrations run up the length of your arm as you slide it down over your stomach, anticipation pooling between your thighs. Then the toy meets your dripping entrance.

The whine that escapes your lips is desperately pathetic and your body burns at the sound of yourself. Greedily, you press it harder against your cunt, grinding mindlessly against the toy as the vibrations shudder up your body. A delightful haze clouds over your mind, removing everything except the near primal need building inside you.

The sensation builds inside you and eager anticipation rises to meet it. Ever since Aleksander and Alina had touched you that night in their garage, you’ve been unable to reach any sort of climax. It’s only now, using the toy they had bought you, that you’re beginning to feel the kind of pleasure you’ve been craving.

Then, abruptly, the vibrations stop.

A cry of frustration heaves at your body. You had been frighteningly close to the edge. Fumbling with your phone, you check the connection between the toy and your phone.

Connected to Alina’s iPhone ☀️

The temptation to throw your phone across the room tugs at you.

Alina M: enjoying yourself, little dove?

In a moment of violent confidence, you press record, you lower your phone camera down between your legs. The video you send her in response is only a few seconds long, focusing on your soaked cunt as you purposefully clench around nothing.

Alina M: naughty girl

Alina M: are you really that desperate?

Abandoning the useless vibrator, you slide your middle finger down to your entrance, collecting the sticky arousal that you find there with your fingertip.

Alina M: you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?

Shame spills over inside you, but it’s nowhere near enough of an incentive to stop touching yourself. Especially now that you’re slick enough to begin rubbing at your clit, needy circles over the swollen nub that have you shaking.

Aleksander M: little dove

Aleksander M: what are you doing?

Aleksander M: Alina is pulling that face when she’s teasing you

Aleksander M: is your cunt all drippy and needy for us?

The thought of Aleksander and Alina sitting next to one another, pressing kisses leisurely over each other as they send teasing messages to you, has you whining through gritted teeth.

With shaky fingers and a thoroughly distracted mind, you manage to type out a reply for him.

You: yes sir

He doesn’t appear to be any less enthusiastic, despite your rather limited response.

Aleksander M: good girl

Aleksander M: are you touching yourself?

You: yes sir

Aleksander M: poor thing

Aleksander M: you must be struggling now that Alina has turned your toy off

Seeing his message - confirmation that they are both witnessing your unravelling desire - has you increasing the speed of your hand, rubbing at your cunt fiercely. The wet sound of slick smearing over your clit and fingers has heat burning across your cheeks and down your neck.

Aleksander M: don’t worry little dove

Aleksander M: all you need to do is think about Alina holding you down on your bed while I fuck your little cunt open

Aleksander M: I’m certain that will help you

He’s right. Imagining Alina lying beneath you, with an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat, while Aleksander pushes his cock inside you, has your cunt trembling with need.

Dropping your phone down onto the bed, you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing vigorously at your cunt as your climax slams into you. A whimpering cry escapes from you, as your back arches away from the mattress. The muscle in your wrist cramps, but you continue your motions as your cunt twitches.

Everything is fuzzy, warm heat flickering beneath your skin has you sigh, attempting to settle your breathing. Rhythmic spasms seize your cunt as your heart continues to pound and bliss slowly winds its way through your each and every limb, filling them with a sated heaviness that has you sinking back into the mattress.

With shaky, sticky fingers you wipe the evidence of your climax over your trembling thighs before typing out a response.

You: thank you sir

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

On a typical night out with friends, you’re the designated driver - the responsible one who keeps an eye on everyone and makes sure everyone stays out of trouble. Tonight, you’ve somewhat neglected your usual duties, allowing yourself to be distracted by someone at the bar.

He seems nice enough - probably too nice for you - and he manages to hold your attention for a while, long enough for your friends to slip out of sight somewhere into the depths of the club.

Then you spot someone achingly familiar. Alina.

The moment you see her, your only thought is to catch another glimpse of her through the crowd. She’s sitting at a table in a darkened corner, tucked against her husband’s side. Aleksander’s arm is draped over the back of the leather sofa, his fingers grazing over her bare shoulder.

Alina’s dress is indecently short, and your gaze is fixed on her legs for a long moment. They seem almost glossy in the low light of the club and your transfixed at the sight of her. Her dress is skintight, giving you an ample view of her breasts pushed plump into the material.

They both stare at you unabashed. The weight of their combined gaze feels like hands over your body and you squirm in your seat, shifting your thighs together to relieve the ache that is growing in your core. The marks the two of them left on your body have almost completely faded and you can feel the absence of them.

Aleksander beckons to you and instantly you’re stumbling from your seat, bidding the man beside you a rather absent goodbye before you’re making your way through the throngs of people towards the couple.

When you finally reach the small sofa they’re sitting on, the courage you had mustered disappears and your gaze sinks to the floor. Staring down at your heels, you realise the music is much quieter here, providing a more intimate setting than the rest of the club.

“Um, hello.”

Aleksander nods faintly in greeting, taking a long pull of his drink. His features are shadowed in the low light, his eyes darkened as his gaze traces slowly down your figure.

“Good evening.”

“Having fun?” Alina asks. You shrug lightly, gaze falling again as her stare begins to unnerve you. Both of them seem to be taking advantage of your legs and cleavage on display, eyeing your body hungrily.

When you look up at her, she nods towards the man you had abandoned at the bar.

“You looked interested.”

You shake your head instantly.

“I’m not.”

Aleksander smiles indulgently.

“I told you, Alya, our little dove would be faithful.”

A frown creases at your brows, as you realise that they have been watching you - that they might have even sent that man over to talk to you. Alina hums lightly.

“I think I’d prefer some physical proof.” She holds her hand out, palm open expectantly. Confusion fills your features and she raises a dark brow at you. “Panties, darling.” She grins. “Unless you aren’t wearing any?”

After a quick glance at the small handful of people nearby, you reach beneath your dress and tug your panties down your legs before they drop onto the floor. You bend quickly, scooping them up and placing them in her waiting hand.

Alina tilts her head aside, staring at the fabric for a long moment, a wicked smile spreading over her face. Seeing your panties out in the open, for anyone to see, has shame brimming inside you. She opens up her clutch purse, dropping your panties into it. Then she reaches for you.

She pulls you into her lap, ensuring that your bare cunt is pressed against the heat of her thigh. Embarrassment warms your cheeks at the thought of the arousal already gathered between your folds, now smearing over her skin. Alina’s voice is low and dangerous as she murmurs into the shell of your ear.

“Any mess you make is getting cleaned up by your tongue. Understood?”

The thought of being forced onto your knees, in the middle of this club, to clean up your own arousal from her thigh - of being allowed to feel her skin with your tongue - has the hint of a moan creeping into the back of your throat.

“Y- yes ma’am.”

“If you draw too much attention to yourself, Aleksander will bend you over this table and give you a real spanking in front of everyone here.”

You tense in her hold. A real spanking? Meaning that what he had given you the other night hadn’t been considered a real spanking - despite it leaving you an incoherent mess on the floor of their garage. Aleksander’s laugh is velvet smooth.

“Alina, don’t scare our little dove. We don’t want her to fly away now, do we?”

They both share a wicked smile, their dark eyes glimmering with mirth, as if they know that you couldn’t leave them even if you wanted to. They would drag you back to them, kicking and screaming, and they would enjoy every second of it.

Desire thrums between your thighs as Alina’s hands toy at your breasts. She squeezes the soft flesh absentmindedly, occasionally rolling your nipples between the pads of her fingers as she talks to Aleksander. Their conversation is indecipherable to you, too consumed by arousal to focus on what they’re saying - not that they seem to be speaking to you.

They both offer you sips of their drinks, pressing chilled glass to your lips, and you’re forced to swallow the contents as they tip the liquid into your mouth. It isn’t long before you’re feeling tipsy from the concoction of alcohol given to you - and the intoxication of their presence.

Alina’s hands continue to wander over your body, though she appears to be particularly fond of your breasts. At one point, she slips the thin strap from your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your dress away from one of your breasts. The cool chill of the air stings your hardened nipple and you squirm, grinding down on her thigh. In response, she digs her nails into your skin.

A whimper catches in your throat and your head swims with a heady need that clouds over your thoughts, eliminating anything that isn’t focusing on Alina and the pleasurable pain she’s offering you. The stickiness between your thighs grows until the ache of your empty cunt is the only thing you can focus on.

If you had the tiniest bit more coherency, you might have been concerned by your lack of concerns.

“Darling,” Alina says softly, hooking a finger under your chin. “Look at that.”

She tilts your head down to look at the space between your legs, where your cunt has been leaking over her thigh. Shame prickles over your skin as you struggle to stammer out an apology for making such a mess. Her thumb circles over the heated apple of your cheek.

“Don’t worry your silly little head over it. You’re going to sit at my feet and clean up your mess like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nod, slipping down onto the floor to nestle between her legs. The taste isn’t particularly pleasant, but you’re glad of the opportunity to feel her skin beneath your tongue. The thought of being allowed to bury your face into her wet cunt makes you moan softly.

She leans back in her seat, draping one arm over the top of the sofa. She rests the elbow of her other arm on Aleksander’s shoulder, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her nails scratch lightly at his skin and he turns to give her an adoring smile.

Even when all evidence of your arousal is gone, you continue to lick over her thigh. Glancing up at her, you decide to risk moving over to her other thigh. She grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up to face them both. They both stare down at you as Alina threads her fingers through your hair.

Aleksander leans into his wife, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before he says quietly,

“I think it’s time for us to head home, Alya.”

“No, don’t,” you whine, pressing your forehead against her knee. “Please, don’t leave.”

Aleksander pets the top of your head.

“Little dove, you’ve been so good this evening. Do you really want to ruin that by being a brat, now?”

Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head, and Aleksander mimics the motion mockingly with a small pout of fake sympathy. He catches one of your tears with the pad of his thumb, eyes darkened as he observes your pitiful state. When your gaze falls onto the sizeable bulge beneath his trousers, you swallow hard.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper weakly.

“Come here.”

He holds his hands out for you to take and he helps you stand on incredibly shaky legs. Then he pushes the skirt of your dress up over your hips. His eyes flutter closed as he breathes in deeply, his nose almost directly level with your cunt.

“Little dove,” he murmurs softly. “I can practically smell how wet you are.”

He parts your folds with a delicate brush of his fingers, spreading you open with the hint of a touch that makes you whimper for more. Then he presses his fingertip against your entrance and the breath halts in your lungs. He sinks his finger inside you and your poor cunt quivers at the sensation of being filled.

Aleksander groans quietly, a deep sound that makes you shiver, your cunt tightening around the intrusion of his finger.

“Alya, come feel this.”

His words make your eyes widen, glancing over at Alina as she slides over the smooth leather seat to sit practically on her husband’s lap. She reaches between your legs, cooing demeaningly when you whine at the feeling of her finger squeezing inside you alongside Aleksander’s.

Alina curls her finger, stretching your walls as Aleksander brushes against a particularly sensitive area, and a broken moan escapes your lips. She grins at you and all you can do to escape them both is close your eyes, completely at their mercy.

“Oh Sasha,” she sighs. “She would never be able to take your cock.”

A pathetic, breathy whine of protest heaves at your body. Merely the thought of having Aleksander’s cock inside you has your cunt gripping their fingers. He smiles darkly.

“But she looks so eager for it.”

Alina laughs.

“Of course she is.”

Driven by need, you buck your hips forwards, seeking an ounce of friction for your neglected clit. A weak cry of frustration bubbles in the back of your throat when you’re unsuccessful.

Alina’s eyes are locked onto your chest, staring at your stiff nipples poking through the fabric of your cheap dress. She licks her lips, gaze flickering up to meet yours and the hunger in her expression makes you moan.

She smiles, using her other hand to circle your clit. Her smile widens when you cry out, painful pleasure sparking through your stomach as she rubs your swollen clit. After being untouched for so long, the firm pressure of her fingertip has you gasping loudly.

“What did I say about drawing attention to yourself?” she asks, her motions unfaltering and you clench around their fingers once again.

The thought of another punishment has nervous anticipation creeping over your skin. Tears bloom in the corner of your eyes and they both breathe out quiet moans, equally aroused by the sight of your tearful expression.

“Go tell your friends you’re going home.”

If your friends notice anything unusual in your expression when you speak to them, they don’t mention it.

It’s a relief that all Aleksander’s cars have black glass. The moment you reach their car, Alina is tugging you inside, pulling your dress off. The fabric drops into the footwell of the backseat, alongside your heels. Aleksander follows behind you, bending your body over his thighs. His hand squeezes at the back of your neck as his other hand lands hard against your ass cheek.

Alina strokes your hair, reaching out to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and pulling on your nipples as Aleksander continues spanking you. His strikes drive the air from your lungs, leaving you whining and desperate, your cunt clenching rapidly around nothing. The sheer memory of their fingers exploring the wet heat of your cunt has you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Not to mention their quiet musings.

“Such a filthy girl, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Of course she is, Sasha. Look at the mess of her cunt.”

The rough fabric of his trousers graze against your exposed clit as you writhe in his lap, gasping and whimpering. Sparks of pleasure hum beneath your skin, your limbs tensing as your body scrambles towards your climax.

“Please, please, please.”

A pathetic whimper escapes your lips and Aleksander grasps your hair, pulling you up so that you’re straddling his waist. His hips roll upwards as he adjusts his position beneath you, his bulge pressing directly against your desperate cunt and you cry out at the sensation.

A gasp steals the breath from your lungs as Aleksander pushes a finger inside you. The stretch almost seems too much, overwhelming you in the best way. Still, Aleksander’s finger seems too big for you.

“I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Aleksander insists.

“We’ll have to train your little cunt, hm?” Alina suggests, smoothing stray hairs away from your forehead. “Buy some toys to stretch you out, so you can take his cock.”

He crooks his finger inside you and your mouth drops open as he begins to thrust into you, fingertip brushing against your most sensitive spot with every twist of his wrist. His forehead grazes yours, a stray lock of his hair tickling your skin. Each of his breaths flutter against your cheeks, as you pant against his lips.

Alina reaches over, rubbing at your clit perfectly and you begin to fall apart, cunt clenching rapidly around his finger. The wet sound of your slick smearing over their hands has heat flickering over your body as your hips jerk forwards involuntarily. Through gritted teeth, you cry out, and spiral into a dizzying orgasm.

Aleksander keeps working his finger into you, but Alina abandons your clit, opting to fondle your breasts as you catch your breath. She kisses over your neck and jawline, teeth gnawing little marks into your skin.

The loss of Aleksander’s finger inside you makes you whimper, even as he smears the mess of your arousal over Alina’s thighs. Seeing her thighs on display, your slick glistening over her skin, makes you ache and reach for her. She smacks your hands, a sharp sting against your skin that makes you withdraw instantly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” she asks.

You duck your head bashfully.

“No ma’am.”

“Stick your tongue out.”

Cheeks burning, you do as she says. Aleksander grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head backwards. He leans over you, a string of saliva dropping from his lips to your waiting tongue. When he releases your hair, Alina holds onto your chin, leaning down to spit into your mouth as well.

She leans backwards against the door of the car, admiring the sight of you looking so ruined with a wicked grin.

“Now, keep your tongue out for me, like a good girl.”

Aleksander grasps onto your hair again, tugging your mouth between Alina’s thighs. Both of you moan as your tongue meets her cunt. She grinds her hips upwards and you lap eagerly at her dripping entrance, feeling her twitching against your lips. Aleksander’s grip tightens on you as you moan quietly. He doesn’t let you up for a moment of air - not that you would even want it.

She groans loudly when you begin to suckle on her clit, tracing over the swollen bud in quick circles with your tongue. Her hand joins her husband’s in your hair, the two of them holding you against her cunt. As you press your tongue down on her clit, she tugs on your hair and the pain prickles over your scalp, drawing a moan from you.

Her breathing quickens, jerky gasps and small cries as she thrusts her hips forwards, cunt chasing your mouth. She writhes, both legs locking around your shoulders, drawing you even closer to her as she scrambles towards her climax.

Her cheeks are flushed, a healthy rose glowing over her skin, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as her chest heaves in air and your heart stops at the sight of her. Aleksander seems just as entranced as you are, leaning forward to kiss his wife thoroughly. Seeing the two of them entangled with one another had desire sparking inside you once again, your mind growing fuzzy as the events of this evening finally begin to take a toll on you.

Alina scoops up a coat that had been lying on the backseat, draping it over your shoulders as Aleksander slips out from beneath you. The scent of the coat immediately allows you to identify the owner - Aleksander. She stays with you in the backseat, while Aleksander moves into the drivers seat. It feels strange, having him drive you home instead of the other way around - as it usually is.

Alina retrieves your keys from your purse, pressing both of them into your hands before she buttons up the coat you’re wearing. It isn’t long before he’s pulling up outside your house. Aleksander opens up the car door by your side, reaching into the footwell to slip your shoes back onto your feet. He extends his hand towards you, helping you out of the car.

It’s only once you’ve closed your front door behind you that you realise your dress and panties are still with Alina and Aleksander.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

From that night onwards, Aleksander and Alina can’t keep their hands off you. There isn’t a single drive completed without one of them pushing your head between their thighs or slipping a hand beneath the waistband of your trousers to edge you.

Fogged up glass and leather seats have now filtered their way into your dreams and there’s scarcely a moment where you aren’t thinking of how Aleksander’s cock feels in your mouth or how Alina’s cunt squeezes around your fingers when she climaxes.

It comes to a point where you’re beginning to run out of panties - since them seem particularly fond of stealing yours. Until one day, where Aleksander holds out his hand expectantly and you falter. He raises a brow at you and a flush rises over your cheeks.

“I’m not wearing any.”

Alina grins wickedly and you just know there’s a mocking remark at the forefront of her mind. There’s a pause and you scramble to think of something to fill the sudden silence.

“I could give you my bra?”

Aleksander smiles widely.

That night, you try not to think about how neither of them have ever kissed your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Alina,” you whine desperately, as the vibrations inside you rocket up to a level you’ve never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you fight the tears blooming in the corner of your eyes, knowing it will only encourage her.

“Quiet, little dove. We don’t want anyone else to see you so pathetic, now do we?”

You shake your head hurriedly.

It truly was naive of you to believe that she had invited you to join her for lunch with no ulterior motive. Of course she would use the opportunity to torture you publicly, slipping a vibrator inside you to have you at her mercy.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Aleksander is painfully attractive with his sleeves rolled up. He’s been talking about the latest adjustments made to Alina’s car for the past few minutes, but you’ve barely heard a word of what he’s been saying.

How can you? When his thick hair has been ruffled so casually, his hands adorned with small smears of black grease, firm forearms on display as he speaks. His hands themselves maintain a hold on the majority of your brain functions.

Thoroughly enraptured by his image, you don’t notice him reaching forwards until he grasps onto your chin and your eyes snap up to meet his. He chuckles darkly.

“I see I have your attention now.”

You flush.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He hums in response, unconvinced. Then he reaches down to unbutton his trousers and your mouth waters in anticipation as he pushes you down onto your knees.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Looking so attractive should be illegal. Aleksander and Alina have tucked themselves into one another, mid-conversation with their group of friends at a gala. As a member of their staff, you’re forced to watch from the sidelines as Aleksander wraps his arms around her middle, nodding absently at whatever is being said.

Without looking down at her, one of his arms trails up her body, casually cupping her jaw. Her own hands cling to his forearm draped around her waist. Even from this distance, through the throngs of people, you can see her back arching to subtly press her ass cheeks against the front of his trousers.

When the thin strap of her dress falls down from her shoulder, Aleksander hooks his finger beneath it without looking, fixing it back into place as he leans in to kiss her neck. Her eyelashes flutter, heady gaze locking on yours from across the room and you shiver.

Then, another hand traces down Alina’s arm, rubbing familiar circles over her bicep as Nikolai Lantsov steps closer, pressing a kiss in greeting to her cheek. Alina smiles widely at him and you stiffen. She loops her arms around the back of his neck and his hands settle on her waist as her body sinks into his. Alina’s dress is backless, meaning his hands are on her bare skin, and a tension fills your shoulders.

When he withdraws from her, Aleksander holds out his hand to Nikolai and the two of them shake hands, drawing one another closer as their handshake dissolves into a hug. Nikolai squeezes Aleksander’s shoulder between his fingers as they embrace and something in your chest twists.

Seeing Nikolai between them both - where you want to be - has an antsy feeling prickling over your skin, urging you to get away from the sight before you do something rash.

Exiting the main hall where the gala is being hosted, you breathe deeply in an attempt at settling your temper. Consumed by your thoughts, you’re caught off guard mid-stride in a deserted corridor.

“What have we told you about being jealous?” Aleksander asks, his hand curling around your throat as he pins you to the wall.

He tightens his hold on your neck, squeezing gently and your cunt clenches around nothing as you whimper. Alina strokes her hands over her husband’s shoulders, smiling at the sight of you so helpless.

“Come on, little dove. Don’t tell me you’ve gone mindless already.”

“Sir,” you whine. He smirks darkly.

“I’m barely touching you.” He nudges your legs apart, slotting his thigh between them. Arousal is already clinging to the scrap of lace against your cunt. “Perhaps a little incentive will encourage you to find your words for us.”

He slides his leg upwards and they both laugh when you grind down on the trouser-clad muscle.

“I- I’m not jealous,” you protest weakly.

Alina smirks, raising a brow at you.

“No?” She brushes a loose strand of hair away from your forehead, hand dropping down to grope beneath your dress. “Then why don’t you let us introduce to some of our friends? Maybe Nikolai?”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat and you shake your head, biting down on your lower lip. They both laugh as your cheeks burn hot.

“Now, are you going to apologise for your behaviour?” Aleksander asks as he releases his hold on your throat.

His words make you recoil instantly, practically insulted at the thought of apologising for doing barely anything wrong.

“What? No.”

The look they both give you has an ice cold shudder running down your spine and you almost whimper at the intensity of their gaze. This might be the first time you’ve ever outright refused them and it doesn’t feel as empowering as you had imagined when you first started working for them.

Aleksander keeps his hand on the nape of your neck, while Alina grips your elbow, and the two of them steer you outside. They stand close by as you retrieve the car keys from the valet, their eyes watching your every move as you shift nervously.

When you reach the car, Alina opens the back door, gesturing for you to get inside while Aleksander retrieves something from the back of the car. She swats your ass cheek as you climb in, startling you, before she slides in beside you.

When you see what Aleksander is holding, a fine piece of black rope, your stomach flips.

“Give me your hand,” he demands in a low tone.

Hesitantly, you offer him your left hand, which he takes in his own, looping the rope around your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in a tiny voice.

Aleksander halts his knots and looks up at you, his eyes soft.

“I know you are, little dove. But we need the lesson to sink in this time.”

Once the rope is secure around your wrist, Aleksander guides your arm backwards so that he can tie it to the base of the headrest behind you. Then he reaches for your other hand, while Alina opens up a bag, pulling out a vibrator, and you realise what they’re planning to do with you.

“Please, I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

Aleksander takes your chin firmly between his fingers.

“If you had been a good girl, and had done as you were told, you wouldn’t be in this situation, now would you?”

“No,” you whimper weakly. Aleksander smiles indulgently, continuing tightening the rope around your wrist.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Alina connects the vibrator to her phone, turning it on and trailing the end of it down your inner thigh as she parts your legs. The sensation is slow but it thrums heavily up to your cunt. She turns it off as she reaches the puffy lips of your cunt, easing it slowly into your entrance. A tiny bead of sweat rolls down your calf as she stretches you open so intimately.

A weak cry escapes your lips when she turns it on again. Pleasure shoots its way up your entire body, burrowing into your chest and prickling over the back of your neck. Liquid bliss drops down your spine, blooming in your abdomen as you writhe at the onslaught of sensation. Aleksander watches you intently.

“Shall I tie her legs up as well, Alya?”

Alina tilts her head aside, considering his question, and you whimper. Then she shakes her head as a wicked smirk spreads over her features.

“I like seeing her squirm.”

Alina sinks a hand into your hair, tugging lightly so that you meet her gaze. Then she says a quiet voice that makes you shiver,

“You can come undone as many times as you want, but I want you to know that you’re the one paying for the seat to be cleaned afterwards.”

Shame burns through your body, hot molten pooling down between your thighs, dripping over their expensive leather seats - a custom design by Aleksander himself.

He leans in, his fingers brushing against yours as his nose traces along your jawline and you breathe in shakily. Then you feel a loose piece of rope being nudged against your fingertips.

You blink at him. He’s giving you an out.

Aleksander presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Be good for us.”

This is worse than anything. Knowing that you could free yourself. Knowing that you’re at their mercy one hundred percent willingly. Tears gloss down your cheeks and you know you’ve painted a pitiful picture of yourself - and that they will be enjoying every second of it.

The next few hours seem to drag on forever.

When they return, you’re an incoherent mess. Make up thoroughly smudged, mascara and tears staining your cheeks, and sweat glossing over your skin. The entire car smells of sex; the scent has probably embedded itself into the leather.

Alina hushes you, taking the vibrator out gently. When the rough lace of your panties brushes against your sensitive clit, you flinch and she removes your underwear instantly. Their hands on you are the only thing keeping you upright as Aleksander unties your wrists.

“Who do you belong to?” Alina asks in a low whisper.

“You. Both of you.”

Aleksander kisses your forehead.

“Good girl.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Alina climbs smoothly into the back of the car, leaning around your seat to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to look at her, blinking in surprise even as your stomach flips at her gentle gesture of affection.

“I- Thank you.”

She grins, leaning back into her seat and clicking her seatbelt into place. Baffled at her affectionate greeting - and by the fact that she remembered your birthday this year - you put the car into gear and set off towards their house.

When you arrive, Alina takes your hand, tugging you through the garage, towards the door which leads into their house. Her fingers slip through yours as she moves up the three little steps, disappearing into what you assume is their hallway.

Aleksander is there holding the door open, and he inclines his head in the direction of the hallway which you can now see leads further into their house.

“Come on, little dove.”

You blink at him. None of their drivers have ever been invited into their house and very few Morozova employees are even allowed into the building.

“Inside?” you ask. He nods.

Faltering at the threshold, you look down at your feet, eyeing your worn old boots cautiously. Then you glance nervously at Aleksander.

“Should I take my shoes off?”

He tilts his head aside for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching, before he nods.

“If you don’t mind.”

Bending over, you unlace your boots and nudge them over to the side of the hallway while Aleksander walks towards the living room. He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders, folding it over the back of the sofa.

Alina smiles at you, nodding towards the kitchen.

“Drink?” she asks you. You blink at her.

“Oh, um, no thank you.”

“Would you like a tour?”

Thoroughly confused, yet eager to see more of their private space, you nod. They show you the dining room, the patio space, the pool room. Everything is just as luxurious as you expected. The last room they show you is their bedroom.

Aleksander sits down at the foot of the bed, his legs spread comfortably and you ache at the sight of his thighs, eyeing your favourite place to sit. Then he beckons to you.

“Come here.”

Anticipation prickling over your skin, you sit down beside him. Alina retrieves something from her beside cabinet, slipping a smooth cardboard box into your lap. Once you’ve loosen the lid, revealing the contents hidden beneath luxury sheets of tissue paper, Aleksander presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

You stare down into the box, eyeing the delicate silver choker there.

“I-”

“It’s just a little something,” Alina says quietly. “To remind you of who you belong to.”

You turn to look at her sharply, holding her dark gaze for a long moment.

“Would you put it on for me?” you ask.

There’s a small click as the clasp closes, the metal encircling your throat perfectly. They exchange a heated look and desire blooms in your stomach. Alina’s hands wander slowly over your body, cupping your breasts and casually circling her thumbs over your clothed nipples.

“Alina…” you whisper in a desperate plea.

“What do you want?”

“You. Touch me, please.”

She leans in, kissing you passionately. A moan of pure relief wracks through your body as you sink back onto the bed, Alina pushing you down to lie beneath her. Fuelled by need, you grind your hips upwards to meet hers as she straddles your waist.

Her hands slip up your shirt, grabbing eager fistfuls of your breasts, searching for your nipples. When she finds them, she tugs, your back arching at the sensation. Her mouth descends onto your neck, pressing kisses over the sensitive skin there. But she’s kissed your neck countless times. Now that you’ve tasted her lips you’re desperate for more.

Even now, she can’t resist teasing you, lifting her head up out of reach as you try to kiss her again. A whine catches in the back of your throat and she laughs softly. She doesn’t keep you waiting long, ducking her head down to kiss you again which pulls a moan from you.

You think you might be addicted to her lips.

Aleksander curls his fingers around the nape of your neck, pulling your face towards his. His mouth moves slowly against yours, swallowing each of your moans.

He kisses along your jawline, nipping lightly with his teeth which leaves a trail of blooming marks over your skin. He licks over your collarbones, a small sound of pleasure catching in his chest. He murmurs a quiet admission against the hollow of your throat.

“I want you to say my name.”

There’s no hesitation.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. He groans.

Alina shares a look with her husband and they appear to exchange some sort of silent conversation. Then she slides her leg around your waist, flipping you over so that you’re on top of her. Aleksander places his hands on your waist, tilting your hips upwards.

The head of his cock slides against your entrance, slowly carving a space for himself inside you. A desperate whimper catches in your throat at the burning stretch and your forehead drops down to press against Alina’s shoulder.

“S’too big. Aleksander.”

“You’ve seen Alina take me before, haven’t you?” he asks, a breathless edge to his voice.

They both share a grin when you nod, reminding all three of you of the intimate moments you’ve witnessed between them both.

After the initial stretch, the wet slick of your arousal helps Aleksander to slide deeper into you, drawing out a near pornographic moan from your chest. Pleasure floods up your spine, filling your head with a heady bliss that clouds your thoughts.

When you glance down between your open thighs, noticing he’s only halfway inside you, a weak sob of frustration heaves at your shoulders.

“Alina. It’s too much.”

She shushes you, brushing a stray stand of hair from your forehead.

She breathes out a soft moan, pressing her palm against your stomach - directly over the place where Aleksander’s cock is buried inside you. When she applies a little more force, you squirm at the sensation.

“Sasha,” she sighs, her voice breathy. “I can feel you inside her.” Her teeth tug at your earlobe. “Don’t you feel full, little dove?”

You nod hurriedly.

Aleksander grits his teeth into a near snarl, jaw muscles clenching as he pushes the last few inches of his cock inside you. He breathes out harshly, a rushed exhale that you feel brushing over your shoulder before he groans at the feeling of being completely consumed by the heat of your cunt.

“That’s our girl. Our good fucking girl.”

His words stumble out of him and your cunt clenches at the praise. He presses a line of kisses over your shoulders, lips suckling on your skin before his tongue traces over the marks left there.

A broken moan reverberates through Alina’s chest, her head tilting back into the plush pillow beneath her head. With her neck bared, you can see every throb of her pulse as it pounds under the delicate skin of her throat. Aleksander breathes out a soft laugh.

“Can I tell you a secret, little dove?” he murmurs against your cheek, soft breathy pants accompanying his words. You nod hurriedly. “Alina is just as pathetic as you are.” His hand grasps your jaw, turning your head so that you’re face to face with Alina. “Look at her.”

Alina’s cheeks are burning red, flushed brighter than you’ve ever seen them. There’s a bashfulness in her expression that she’s trying to hide, but the way her eyes bounce from your chest to your lips - avoiding your eyes - tells you everything.

Aleksander tightens his hold on your hip, grasping a fistful of your hair as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, filling you perfectly with his cock. The slow roll of his hips has you drooling over Alina’s collarbone.

“And I think I can unravel her just by bumping your pretty clits together.”

Alina’s messy cunt slips beside yours, swollen bundles of nerves catching against each other. The subtle scrape of pubic hair grazes both of your sensitive buds, making the two of you gasp and writhe.

“What do you think, Alya?” he asks. The dark mocking in his tone is so familiar, but you’ve never heard it directed at Alina. From the small whine that catches in the back of her throat, this is a rare treat for her.

Her nipples brush against the soft curves of your breasts, occasionally nudging into your own nipples as you grind together. Each of Aleksander’s thrusts have you knocking against Alina’s clit, violent sparks of pleasure winding the coil tighter inside you.

Aleksander breathes out a laugh, though he chokes on it slightly as your cunt tightens around his cock. Arousal sticks to your thighs, though you’re not certain whose it is. Alina’s eyes flutter closed, her mouth drops open and her brows crinkle together.

“Alina, please,” you whisper.

She bursts beneath you, crying out as she climaxes. It doesn’t take much more for you to follow alongside her, cunt clenching rapidly around Aleksander’s cock. You arch into their bodies, writhing between them.

Alina’s breathing is rapid in your ear, little shaky gasps as she begins to come down from your simultaneous highs. Aleksander breathes out harshly, his cock still rigid inside you as pleasure thrums around your body. He slowly eases himself out of you with a low groan.

“Look at these perfect little cunts. All wet and needy for me.” He traces his fingertip over the curve of your ass, hands spreading your cheeks so that he can examine your dripping cunt. “Which one should I fill with my cum?”

Alina whines.

“I’m your wife,” she protests petulantly.

Aleksander hums absently, mock indecision playing over his features. Seeing the woman who delights in belittling you brought down to your level - a needy whimpering mess - is painfully arousing.

“But our little dove has been empty for so long. Don’t you want to let her go first?”

Alina looks up at you. The two of you lock eyes with one another and one thing is abundantly clear - she does not want you to have Aleksander’s cum first. Her eyes darken and she reaches for your throat the moment your mouth descends onto hers in a hungry kiss.

It’s primal - the way you grasp at one another, hips bucking, nails digging into plush skin. Her teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a small groan of frustration from you. Abandoning her lips, you move your attention down to her breasts, dragging your teeth over her skin.

She smacks your thighs, leaving a heated prickle of pain in the wake of her palm as you continue to kiss her body. The hold you have on her hips is fierce, reddened marks biting into her skin as you press your thigh against her soaked cunt. Alina tugs on your nipples, twisting the sensitive buds painfully.

She knows your every weakness, but your actions are fuelled by the months of teasing she’s put you through. In this moment, it appears you’re at a stalemate. Evenly matched in your ferocity to push the other into submission.

When you glance over at Aleksander, he’s fisting his cock, gripping the base with white knuckles as he watches the two of you struggle with one another. His eyes meet yours and a shudder runs through your body.

He shifts forwards, moving between your thighs, manoeuvring you to lie draped over Alina with your legs spread wide. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, stroking it against your twitching cunt, and you moan desperately.

Aleksander slams his hips into yours, filling you completely with one thrust which steals the breath from your lungs, toes curling as you cry out involuntarily. Every ounce of control you have over yourself disintegrates, subconsciously giving your body over to the two of them completely.

“Aleksander,” you cry weakly.

Alina grips your throat, while Aleksander continues his determined thrusts into your tight, wet cunt. The sound of skin slapping and the scent of sex hangs heavy in the air. They praise and degrade you constantly and the burning heat of pleasure and pain swims under your skin.

Aleksander swats your ass, the plush skin jostling with the motion of his hips combined with his smacks. Everything fades away, until you can only hear the wetness of your cunt and the rushing of blood in your ears. The world narrows down to the pleasure between your legs.

Alina’s hands are on your breasts, tugging on her favourite part of you. After months of being denied the two of them, being between them now is borderline overwhelming.

Every time Alina’s lips meet yours for a kiss, your cunt tightens. The feeling of clenching around Aleksander’s cock has pleasure shooting through your body, especially when his thrusts nudge the head of his cock against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

A sharp cry of their names, and several loud curses, escape your lips and you grip onto Alina’s waist, nails biting into her skin as you writhe between them, your body hurtling into a dizzying climax.

Aleksander continues to drive his cock into you, wrecked moans reverberating from deep in his chest as he grasps onto your hips. He keeps you held open for him, ignoring your whimpers as your cum seeps from your abused little cunt.

His hips go still as he orgasms, his cum spilling into you and he breathes out a soft moan. Aleksander lowers his forehead down onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair tickling your skin while he revels in his own high. A giddiness fills your chest and a bright smile tugs at your lips.

When he pulls out of you, the feeling of his hot cum slips from your cunt, dripping down onto Alina’s. There’s a dull ringing in your ears and all the tension in your body seems to melt. With shaking hands, you reach down to her clit, using your release to rub slow, slick circles that have her writhing beneath you.

She gasps your name and the fuzziness in your head seems to double in its intensity. Aleksander’s hand joins yours, guiding your motions to help you bring Alina to her peak. She moans deeply, back arching as she succumbs to her orgasm.

Her chest heaves, nipples brushing unintentionally against your chest as she catches her breath. There’s a shakiness in your limbs and you collapse weakly onto Alina. She threads a hand slowly through your hair, tracing distracted circles over your skin.

The warmth of Aleksander’s body disappears as he lifts himself up from the two of you, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands settled on the sheets. His gaze is heavy on you both as Alina nudges you gently, until you’re sitting up on their bed beside one another.

Alina tilts her head, glancing over at her husband. She leans in to whisper against the shell of your ear, mischief dancing in her dark eyes.

“Should we lick his cock clean?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod at her with a soft, excited laugh which she shares. Aleksander tilts his head at you both, a curious twinkle in his dark eyes. He smirks.

“What are you two giggling at?”

Lowering your gaze coyly, you smile at him as Alina squeezes affectionately at your throat.

“Nothing, Sasha.”

His cock twitches and your stomach flips.

Alina moves towards his cock first, licking a broad stripe up from the head to the base, her nose brushing against the collection of dark curls there. The soft groan from Aleksander is all the incentive you need to join her.

The two of you lick over his softened cock, tongue lapping up the mixture of cum - both his and yours. The sticky substance smears over your lips and you mouth over his cock, occasionally meeting with Alina’s mouth for a sloppy kiss.

Aleksander’s cock jerks at the sight before him and he takes hold of the base to tap the sticky head of his cock against your cheek. His cum smears over your face, and your cheeks burn at the demeaning action. A delighted smile tugs at Alina’s lips before she licks up the mess from your face with a pleased little hum.

He ducks his head down for a messy kiss. The three of you settle down at the head of the bed, swapping each other’s mouths between one another - sucking on lips and tracing tongues. They both reach between your thighs, scooping up the arousal clinging to the lips of your cunt and sucking the remains from their fingers as you lie together on their bed.

The next morning, you wake up nestled between them both with silk covers draped over your body. There’s a pleasurable ache between your legs. The skin of your ass cheeks and thighs are sensitive when you shift slightly, tender skin brushing against the smooth sheets.

Alina hums quietly beside you, sleepily wrapping her arms around your waist. She drops a light, sleepy kiss onto your shoulder. Her other hand is already holding a fistful of your hair, keeping you close to her.

Aleksander sighs, his hand slipping between you and Alina, sliding down your back. There’s a dull sting when his fingers brush against the scratch marks there. He kisses your collarbone gently. He places a few slow kisses over your neck, his nose nudging against the numerous marks bitten and bruised into your skin from the events of last night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“What do you think of it?” Aleksander asks, looping his arms around your waist as you admire the newest addition to the garage.

The car in front of you is magnificent, sleek edges, painted a pretty pearlescent cream that shimmers in the cool light. Unlike Alina’s favourite car, there’s four seats, though it has a similar luxurious design.

“It’s beautiful.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at your praise. “Have you thought of a name for it?”

He hums quietly with a small nod and you turn to him expectantly. He shares a look with Alina and his smile widens.

“Dove.” That single word makes your heart skip a beat. Then Alina grins.

“Would you like to christen it?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod with a smile. She takes your hand, tugging you over to towards the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[do-it-jakey-baby]

Must I Go Bound?

Danny Wagner x f!reader, Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual activity, profanity, drinking

18+, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: @ignite-my-fire, @peaceloveunitygvf, @mama-likes72, @mar-rein12, @brujamagik, @myownparadise96, @jaketkiszka

Chapter 3

“Sit down. Explain.”

Em hands you a thin stemmed wine glass, filled to the absolute brim with your favourite brand of pinot noir.

You collapse into the soft confines of the couch pillows, sighing quietly. You bring the glass up to your lips, taking a hearty glug of the ruby liquid.

You take in a sharp breath. “I fucked up.”

Em looks at you, her lips pursed as she sits down beside you and rubs her hand along your arm. You’d driven straight to her house after leaving Jake’s, not wanting to face the solitude of your own home.

“Start from the beginning.”

“Well, you know Danny took me out for dinner. It was going really well. He’s so sweet, brought me flowers.” She audibly ‘aaaws’, crossing her legs underneath her. “He was listening to Neil Young on the way there, which naturally made me think of my Dad. He’s just so easy to talk to, Em. I really like him.”

“That’s great, so what’s the prob-”

You put your hand up, cutting her off. “Then, after our plates had been cleared, I get a text.” Her eyes widen and she places her head in her hands. “I’m sure you can guess who from. Says he knows I’m on a date with Danny, wants me to come over after I’m done.”

“Y/N, you didn’t.” She peeks through her fingers at you.

“I did.” You exhale, rubbing your hand over your face. “I did, and we had the nastiest, most insane sex. But that’s not the worst thing that happened. This morning, Danny showed up.”

“No! Oh fuck, did he see you?”

“Thankfully, no. But it was too close for comfort, so I left immediately and came here.”

“You need to stop seeing him, babe.”

“Yeah, this is my issue. I’m uh… falling for Jake too.”

“Shit.” She breathes.

Neither of you say anything for a while, just sitting with your confession. You throw back the rest of your wine as Em retrieves the bottle, placing it in front of you for easy access.

“Ok, so we need to make a list.”

“A list?” You eye her, topping yourself back up and sipping gingerly from your glass.

“Yeah, like pros and cons. Let’s start with Danny. What do you like about him?”

“Em… I don’t know if I wanna do this.”

“What else are you going to do? At least this way you have an idea of who is doing it most for you.”

“I think I like them pretty equally.” You groan, letting the rest of the wine in your glass slip down your throat.

Em reaches across to grab the bottle and refills your glass again, then places her hand on your thigh.

“Come on. Danny.” She extends her phone screen out so that you can see she has her notes app ready.

“He’s thoughtful, and remembers the things I tell him. He’s beautiful, his curls honestly make me weak in the knees. And his body…”

“Ok, ok. All great things. Any cons?”

“Not that I’ve discovered yet.” You shrug.

“Damn. Ok, Jake.”

“Phen-om-inal in bed. 10/10, no notes. Literally gorgeous. Cheeky, has a sense of humour, is very dominant.”

Em looks up from her phone and raises her eyebrows.

“Cons… he can be a little arrogant. He’s also not got an issue with screwing around with the same girl as his best friend.”

“So we have zero cons for Danny and two for Jake…”

“Em.” You groan.

“Look, you’re a grown ass woman, Y/N. Make your own decisions, but from where I stand it seems like Danny would be a better boyfriend.”

You physically recoil at the word, it sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Boyfriend? No no no. That’s not-”

“Babe! Would you quit it. I’m just saying, if it gets to that stage with either of them, I’d be leaning towards Danny.”

~

The next few weeks pass by with radio silence from Jake, making it incredibly easy to follow Em’s advice. You were tempted to reach out a few times, but ultimately decided that if he wanted to speak to you, he would. You weren’t about to chase a man, that went against every fibre of your being. Contact with Danny was in abundance, though. You carried on your dates when Danny had time away from band duties, and any time you were apart you spent it texting back and forth. He was a comforting addition to your life, fitting in so effortlessly. You’d almost forgotten all about Jake, but every now and then you awoke in a sweat from a dream that was definitely not PG. You tried your best to swat away the memories of being tangled up in Jake’s sheets, but they still lingered in the darkest corners of your mind. In fact, one evening whilst Danny’s head was between your legs, you started to moan Jake’s name. You swiftly changed it up to “Jesus”, getting away with the slip of your tongue by the skin of your teeth, but you swore to yourself that you must be more careful in future.

By the time Danny broke the news that they were going back on tour, you’d been casually dating for roughly two months.

You look up at him through your lashes, snuggled on his chest in the warmth of his bed.

“Oh? Wow. I mean, that’s great for you guys! How long will you be gone?”

“Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll call you whenever I can. It’s all very start stop, so the first leg we’ll be out for around two months. Then we head over to Europe.”

“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you guys!”

“I actually wanted to ask if you’d come along to the first show? It’s gunna be in St. Louis, so I completely understand if you can’t make it.”

You ponder on it for a moment, wondering if it’s the best idea, but ultimately decide that if you’re going to give things a go with Danny, you’ll need to face Jake at some point.

“I’d love to, that would be really fun. Thanks for asking.” You smile, placing a kiss to his chest.

“Ok great, I’ll make the arrangements.”

Luckily, work was slow at the moment so you managed to get the time off. A few weeks later, you found yourself on a plane to Missouri, wondering how life had changed so rapidly in such a short space of time. Danny had insisted on you flying out, stating that the tour bus was not something he wanted you to witness. You were secretly glad to avoid being in such close quarters with both Danny and Jake.

You were picked up by a driver at the airport and taken to the hotel you’d be staying at. The nerves were bubbling up in your stomach for entirety of the journey there, you had to play it cool and act as if you’d never met Jake before. You’d had plenty of interactions with Josh and Sam, who were almost always about when you and Danny would hang out at his place. Not surprisingly, Jake always opted out, springing well thought-out excuses on Danny each time. As you entered the foyer of the hotel, the scene unfolding before you quickly made you forget all about your initial nerves.

“What do you fucking mean the rooms haven’t been booked?!” Jake spits at the receptionist.

“Sir, I’m sorry, the rooms have been booked but not on the dates you’ve specified.”

“How has this happened?!” Jake turns to address the room, but finds your eyes staring back at him from the entrance.

“Where’s Jade?” Josh speaks up.

“I don’t know, stuck in traffic I think but I can’t get hold of her.” Danny responds, holding his phone up.

“Great, so we can’t get hold of our fucking tour manager. Fantastic.” Jake slumps down into a chair, throwing his hands in the air.

Suddenly, your brain flies into work mode. Disregarding that this absolutely isn’t your place to do so, but knowing that you can help, you spring into action. You step back outside, pulling your phone from your pocket and finding a specific number from your contacts. You hit the call button, bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. Look, I’m so sorry for this but I need a favour. I’ve got a Grammy award winning band here in St. Louis who is due to play an arena show tomorrow night and there’s been some kind of mix up with the hotel booking. Can you find me somewhere for them and their crew for two nights, near the Chaifetz Arena? I’ll get you the exact numbers as soon as you confirm- You can? Oh my god, thank you so much. Give me two seconds.”

You fly back in through the door, making a beeline for Josh.

“Do you have anyone on your team here that can help me with how many people need a room?”

He stares at you with his brow furrowed.

“I’ll explain later, but I’ve found you a hotel. I just need to know who I can liaise with on your team.”

“Uh… ok. Yeah, um. Well Jade isn’t here yet, but we have a few runners about that should be able to help.” He points in their direction.

You make your way over, confirming with the runners how many people need rooms and then sorting transport to the location, which thankfully is just down the road. You’d absolutely owe your contacts for this one, but that was a thought for later. As you were finishing up with their team, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“How… how did you do that?” Josh raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, I kinda do this for work.” You chuckle nervously. “I’m sorry, I just overheard what was happening and before I knew it I was making the call. That wasn’t my place…”

“No, no. Thank you. We managed to get hold of our tour manager whilst you were speaking with the runners and she was struggling to find us somewhere.”

“Oh, well I have some pretty decent connections, I guess.” You smile shyly.

“No kidding. So, you’re pretty damn good at your job then, huh?”

“Oh well, I-” You’re cut off by the rest of the boys joining you, crowding around to understand what just happened.

“Y/N, did you just sort this out for us?” Danny leans in, throwing his arms around you and bringing you in for a hug.

“Honestly it’s no big deal. But we should, uh- sorry, you should get your team to round everyone up because transport will be here shortly. Sorry, I’ll leave your team to do the rest.”

Josh nods at you, mouthing ‘thank you’ before heading over to the group.

Once you were all at the new hotel and checked in, you began to make your way up to your room when you’re stopped by a woman with thick-framed glasses and jet black hair, piled high on top of her head in a bun.

“Hi, you must be Y/N. I’m Jade, Greta’s tour manager. I just want to personally thank you for helping us out today with the hotel arrangements.” She extends her hand out to you.

“Hi, Jade. It’s lovely to meet you, and no trouble at all. I’m used to this stuff, happy to help.”

“I actually have a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Uh, ok. I’m all ears.”

“We’ve been having issues with our booking manager for a while now, this was pretty much the last straw. After what you did today, the boys and I had a chat and we would like to offer the position to you, permanently.”

You’re positive that your jaw had just hit the floor. Her words span around in your head, rattling in every corner until they became white noise.

“Y/N? If you need time to think about it, that’s absolutely ok.”

“I, uh… I don’t know. I’d need to put notice in where I’m currently based, and we’d also need to discuss rates.” You rush out, feeling completely overwhelmed.

“Whatever they’re paying you, we’ll double it.”

Your eyes almost pop out of your skull. “D-double? All I did was book a hotel.”

“Look… you saved our asses. The band are really fond of you, they’re the ones offering double. But I can tell from how you carry yourself that you’re a professional, and good at what you do. Just consider it.”

“I’ll take it.” You blurt out immediately, without a second thought.

“Fantastic!” She beams. “I’ll arrange for my assistant to take your details and we’ll get the contract sent over. Anything else you’d like to discuss, just let me know. Welcome to the team.”

As you watch her walk off, you can’t help but wonder what you might have got yourself into.

~

A while later, you’re unpacking your belongings in your hotel room when you hear a knock on your door. You take a breath, assuming it’s Jade’s assistant coming to collect your information for the contract. You open the door and find Jake stood there, his hands in his pockets.

“Evening, trouble.”

“Jacob. Or should I call you ‘boss’ now?”

He grimaces, waltzing past you and into the room.

“Come in…” you huff under your breath, turning to follow him in.

“Just wanted to give you a warm welcome.” His hands find your waist and pull you back into him. He scans your face, taking in every detail before pressing his lips to yours. You pull back, putting distance between you.

“Jake… what are you doing? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in weeks either, princess.”

“We can’t keep doing this.” You whisper, your body betraying your words as you inch closer to him.

“But it’s so fun.” He clicks his tongue, looking into your soul with those warm, whiskey-coloured eyes that could disarm you in a heartbeat.

You’re saved by another knock at the door, but before you turn to answer it Jake is already there and turning the handle. He opens the door and of course, who else would be stood there than the one person you would never want to catch you in a situation like this.

“Jake? What are you doing here?” Danny raises his eyebrow.

“Hey, man. Just wanted to get to know our new recruit.”

Smooth, Jacob. Smooth.

“She’s fantastic isn’t she? Hey, no stealing her from me.” He chuckles, moving past Jake to you. He places a kiss on your cheek. “Congratulations, beautiful. It’s great news.”

Jake clears his throat, rubbing his fingers across his upper lip. “Yeah, she’s great. I’ll leave you both to it then. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Before you can answer, he’s disappeared out the door.

“Thank you for earlier, you really saved the day.”

“Oh it’s fine, and I got a job out of it so it worked in my favour.” You wink.

“I can’t believe you’re coming on tour with us.”

“Yeah, about that. So, I think we should probably remain professional whilst I’m working with you.”

“Oh… yeah of course. I didn’t even think about that. Damn.”

“It doesn’t mean things are off between us, we’re just pressing pause for now. That ok?” You eye him cautiously.

He cups your face with his hands, pulling you closer and kissing your lips softly. You melt into him, kissing him back as your hands grip into the meat of his triceps. He pulls back, grinning at you. “Ok, starting now.”

“Starting now.” You repeat, extending your hand out to him. He shakes it, giggling like a schoolboy.

“Well, I had other plans for this evening but now that I have to behave myself, I’ll let you get an early night. See you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on, Mr. Wagner.”

“Oh no you don’t, my name’ll do just fine.” He playfully swats at your arm.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow, Daniel.” You wink, opening the door for him.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You lock the door behind him, then make your way into the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. As you’re washing your face, you go back over the events of the day in your head. Putting some distance between you and Danny would make the whole love triangle mess you had going on much easier to deal with, for now at least. It was the best thing to do, given your situation. Jake, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so easily persuaded…

You finish up your evening routine and settle into bed, plugging your phone in to charge. You notice a text waiting for you as you’re about to set your phone down onto the nightstand.

8:42pm

Jake: This tour is about to get real interesting with you around, sweetheart. Good night.

You roll your eyes, opting not to reply and instead place your phone face down and pull the comforter over your head.

~

You’re awoken by a knock at the door, which has you springing swiftly out of bed and pulling on a robe from the closet. You peer through the peep hole, noticing a small blonde woman stood waiting for you.

“Hi, Y/N? I’m Lindsay, Jade’s assistant. Is now an ok time to go over the paperwork?” She smiles politely.

“Yeah, of course. Lovely to meet you, Lindsay.”

You both huddle around the small table in your hotel room, each taking a seat. She pushes the stack of paperwork across to you, explaining everything and going over the expectations of the role, your duties, and any other important information. Once you were happy with everything, you sign the documents and shake her hand. It was explained that you’d be flying home after the show to go back and make your preparations for the rest of the tour, then reconvening with the team in Lincoln. It didn’t give you much time, but thankfully you were used to short deadlines and high pressure.

“Jade wants us all downstairs in the lobby for 11am, is that ok?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll freshen up and be down.”

“Ok, see you then.”

You have around forty five minutes to be ready, so you take a quick shower and get yourself dressed. With twenty minutes left to spare, you quickly draft your resignation email and then head downstairs on the hunt for coffee before your day begins. The hotel’s restaurant kindly provides you with a coffee to go, so you’re in the lobby and ready to go by 10:55. Jade is sat with some of the team and greets you with a warm smile. She stands, gathering the attention of those around her.

“I’d like to introduce you all to Y/N, our new Booking and Events manager. I’m sure you’ll all join me in welcoming her into our crazy little family. Y/N, if you need anything whilst you’re settling in, please just let us know.”

Jade’s sentiments are echoed by the rest of the crew around her, all seemingly content with your arrival. After a few minutes of introductions and light conversation, you look down at your watch.

11:08am

“What time is the band supposed to be here?”

Jade chuckles. “11, same as us, although you’ll find that’s never the case. It’s something we have the runners on top of.”

As if on cue, Danny enters the lobby alongside Sam and one of the runners.

“Morning! Ready to rock’n’roll?” Sam cheers, shooting you a wink.

“We would be if your brothers were also here.” Jade playfully scolds.

Danny makes a beeline for you, showcasing his vibrant grin. “Hey, sleep well?”

“Yeah, not bad actually. You?”

“Never the best the first night before tour reconvenes, but not terrible.”

“Want me to send one of the runners off on a coffee run?”

“That would be amazing, thank you. They should know our orders.”

“No worries at all, it is my job.” You give him a sneaky wink, then go off to find a runner.

Jake and Josh finally make it downstairs twenty two minutes later, deep in conversation with each other about god knows what. The conversation is halted, however, as soon as Jake’s eyes meet yours.

“Well, well. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Good morning, Jacob. You didn’t fancy turning up on time today then?”

“Today? I’m rarely ever on time, sweetheart. Also, what’s with the Jacob thing?” He raises his eyebrow at you.

“Just keeping things professional, sir.”

You watch as his eyes darken and his lips curl up into a smirk. He leans in closer, speaking just loudly enough for you to hear.

“You wanna play it like that, hm? Let’s see how long you can keep it up, angel.”

You feel your skin prickle with goosebumps at the feeling of his breath ghosting over your ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jacob.” You smirk back, rising from your seat and breezing past him to join Jade by the door.

The day goes by pretty much without a hitch, you’re settling in well with the crew and are enjoying getting stuck into the rhythm. Once the boys have sound checked and the arena is being set up, Jade makes her way over to you backstage.

“You’re here as a guest first and foremost tonight, so take the evening and enjoy the show. We can pick back up in Lincoln.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, there were never any expectations for today but I appreciate how much you’ve been pulling your weight already. I knew I’d be right about you. Now go, have fun.” She gives you a gentle pat on the arm and then disappears down the hall. You smile to yourself, the praise washing over you like a warm hug. It was so comforting to know you’d already made a good impression.

You make your way to the green room to collect your things, along with the folders that Lindsay had given you to brush up on, when you feel a presence looming in the doorway.

“Off so soon?”

You look up, recognising the voice instantly and letting your guard melt away.

“Hey, Danny. Yeah, Jade told me to go. Apparently I’m a guest tonight and not a member of the team.” You chuckle lightly.

“Well, you were invited here as a guest. It would be a shame if you didn’t get to experience it like one.” He leans against the door frame, cocking his head to the side.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little yeah, mostly due to wanting to impress a certain someone…”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, spreading across them rapidly. “You don’t need to impress me.”

He pushes off the door frame, walking towards you. “What if I want to?”

You can stop yourself as your feet begin carrying you towards him, until you’re both toe to toe. Your breath hitches in your throat as he lifts his hand up and pushes your hair back from your face.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers, his eyes fixed on yours.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. His hands slip further into your hair as he deepens the kiss. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him desperately closer. You’re lost in the moment, completely forgetting about the decision you made the night before, until you hear movement coming from towards the door.

“Uh… my bad. Didn’t realise anyone was in here. Sorry for… interrupting.”

Jake. Of course.

You both pull away from each other, but Jake’s long gone.

“I’ll, uh, see you later?”

“Yeah, see you later.” Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, but shoots you a sheepish smile.

When you finally arrive back to your hotel room you’re fully kicking yourself for going back on your plans. You couldn’t have these moments of weakness when you needed to remain professional. It was for the sake of your job now, so this needed to end here. You decide to turn your attention to starting the process of getting ready. You take your time completing your skin prep, then intricately apply your makeup. You’ve seen from social media how dedicated their fans are with their attention to detail, so you get to work with a silver smokey eye, complete with rhinestones. Once you’re happy with your makeup, you head over to the wardrobe and retrieve your matching silver mini dress from its hanger. Slipping it on, you take a look at yourself in the mirror.

Ok, you do look really good…

You sit back down, turning your flat iron on and twirl your strands through the plates to add soft waves to your hair. You comb through them and then set them with a light mist of hairspray. Moving back to the dresser, you unclasp a beautiful little silver crescent moon pendant and put it on, the perfect finishing touch to your outfit. You stand to find your boots and notice that your phone screen has lit up from the bed.

4:52pm

Jake: Here I was thinking I didn’t need to compete whilst you were working with us, but seems you had other ideas. I hope Danny enjoyed his little taste, because I’ll be having the whole three course meal later.

Shit. What have you done?

This was all a game to Jake, and in the end, someone was bound to get hurt.

[hlficlibrary]

✤ PWP Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ glimpse of the silhouettes by orphan_account {E, 7k}

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

2️⃣ Makes Perfect by checkthemargins {E, 8k}

"What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?" Louis presses. "Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don't know, a pillow or something. Whatever it'd fit around."

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. "It's different, though, innit? When it's a real person. A pillow won't snog me."

"Why should it?" says Louis. "You can't even take its bra off."

3️⃣ take my breath and i am yours by feathered {E, 5k}

Louis has never gotten a hickey. Harry gives him one.

4️⃣ give you my fever by beautlouis {E, 10k}

And he’s wanted it even more since he met Louis, it's driven him insane, he spends 90% of his life turned on because of Louis and he’s had no relief at all. He’ll wake up at night too hot and itchy, with Louis warm and sweet smelling next to him, and unable to do anything but wank unsuccessfully, with no release.  “I can try,” Louis says, close enough that Harry’s eyes cross a little trying to look at him. “I want to, I’ve never been with anybody, like, I’ve snogged people, lots of people, but I’ve never—touched anyone.” He clears his throat. “I’d touch you, Hazza.”

Harry’s breathing picks up. “Yes.” He doesn’t think there was a question but he’s a little overwhelmed. “Yes,” he repeats, dizzy.

 *x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

5️⃣ baby thinking of you keeps me up all night by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 9k}

Louis sputters in response, shaking his head wildly. Harry moves closer, placing his hand on Louis’ chest and trailing it up towards his neck to curve around. “I am younger than you. Bet you like that. Think you can push me around.”

Louis fishmouths, glaring at Harry who reminds him suspiciously of a shark at the moment. He smells blood in the water.

“Is that what this is about, Louis?” Harry asks. He leans in and fits his mouth against Louis’ earlobe, huffing hot breaths into his ear. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

[harry is a 19 y/o singer and louis is a 29 y/o actor with no love for teenage popstars.]

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Listen to the signs by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 10k}

Louis hates Harry's cliche taste in home decor. When his (sort of) innocent prank gets revealed, Harry shows him why words are so important.

💎 Pretty Miscalculations by @hellolovers13 {E, 5k}

After rudely interrupting Louis’ Christmas shopping, Louis offers Harry a choice and an opportunity to try out his new purchases.

💎 Nothing but Time on His Dirty Hands by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 2k}

Harry enjoys his daydream about Louis Tomlinson.

💎 Stroke of Twelve by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus {E, 2k}

He was close, he was so close, and he knew it was much too soon; the countdown to midnight hadn’t even begun yet.

Or the one where Louis wants Harry to hold off his orgasm so they can come together at the stroke of twelve on New Year's Eve.

💎 beg me silently by @nouies {E, 2k}

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

[yourmotherismylover]

i need a comprehensive list of each bat and pony bff pair

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!

I want to say Dick and Applejack because they’re both my favorites, but honestly I think Dick and Twighlight have all the same problems so they would really get each other. Like that episode where Twighlight gets so stressed she hasn’t learned anything, so she makes problems that she can then solve?? Dick is the only one who understands the insane anxiety and need to please the parental figure. (Not that he would do the same thing though, he’s driven by being as unproblematic as possible.) He sees himself as the glue that holds the family together, even though that’s not always true. He’s known for putting undue pressure on himself and has great advice to give everyone else, just absolutely cannot take it himself. (He’s so emotionally intelligent and mature except when it comes to him and Bruce, what a dumpster fire) (literally Twighlight and Celestia but way less healthy)

I think Jason and Rarity would hangout together and gossip at galas, but also, Rarity is the paragon of generosity. It makes me think of how Jason treats the kids in crime alley, always kind and gentle with them when he’s so gruesome with everything else. I think that Rarity would also admire his violence a little bit, as she’s known to snap and get dirty when she really has to. Rarity cares for other people more than anything, which she has repeatedly displayed in the show. I think Jason is also a very empathetic person, though he is extremely jaded. He hides that part of himself, but I think Rarity would be able to see it in him.

I saw an argument being made for Tim and Applejack, but I think Tim and Luna would go really well together. They both work extremely hard and are often under appreciated. Citing specifically that episode where Luna creates a creature that haunts her dreams, then takes on the guilt of it escaping and tries to stop it all by herself. It reminds me of Tim basically forcing himself onto Bruce as Robin, choosing to take on a huge responsibility, and for a long time, not getting any kind of thank you. Luna talks a lot about not being seen for all the hard work she does and always being overshadowed by Celestia, but also harboring guilt about being Nightmare Moon. Tim was the only Robin who really chose to take up the mantle, but that also means inheriting the name of Dick Grayson, the Boy Wonder, and Jason Todd, the dead kid. He tries equally to live up to those names, but also exist outside of them, neither of which is possible for him.

I initially said Damian and Rainbowdash would be a good pair because they’re both outwardly arrogant as a defense, but someone said Damian and Flutteryshy would bond over animals. I absolutely agree with that. There are things that don’t make sense to Damian, like how to act in certain social situations, how to make friends, etc, but animals do make sense to him. I think the same goes for Fluttershy, and being around animals is the best opportunity for them to come out of their shells, even though those shells look so different. For Damian, that’s being aggressive and intimidating, and Fluttershy is completely the opposite. However, she sees his softness with animals and gains a great appreciation for his fierce protectiveness of the things he loves. She understands he’s a complex and good person, and doesn’t just treat him like a kid. She was able to see the same qualities in Discord, and knows better than to dismiss a person based on surface level interactions.

Now hear me out… Bruce Wayne and Daring Do. There’s the obvious double life, but they seem to face a lot of similar problems with that life. A.K. Yearling is in the public eye and is hearing what people think of Daring Do. It’s not always positive. There’s an episode where Daring Do receives a lot of backlash over the destruction she causes in the name of the greater good, and A.K. Yearling takes on a lot of guilt and chooses to retire from Daring Do for a short time. Batman is of course, not always the good guy, but he makes those hard choices. A.K. doesn’t have that family aspect in her life, but I think we forget, Bruce had a long period of time when he was stoutly solo. They have the same drive to protect. For Bruce, it’s Gotham and his family, and for A.K., it’s history and artifacts. They are extremely driven people that has something in them that says they *can’t* give up. A.K. is quite gruff when we first meet her, and Rainbowdash has a hard time breaking her way into A.K.’s heart. They each become the personality that is needed to finish the job. The mission comes first. A.K. may be the only person who understands why Bruce needs to be Batman. Obviously he’s raised a bunch of little vigilantes, but they each take turns outgrowing Robin, and outgrowing him. There’s an episode of Young Justice where Dick says he just doesn’t have the same drive that Batman has, to sacrifice everything, to always complete the mission. Bruce will never fully let anyone in, which of course causes problems with him and his children. They want to understand him, but they can’t get all the insight they need. A.K. is the only person he doesn’t have to let in, because she’s gone down the same path he has all on her own.

I did not realize I would have so much to say because that is a HUGE wall of text, but they are so important to me. If anyone has any other thoughts/ideas or wants to hear about other bats/ponies, PLEASE TELL ME. I love to yap

[mcybree]

now I'm curious, as someone who has little to no opinion on the matter, what you consider your Beastlife Character's positive traits to be

OTHER BEASTS DO NOT PROCEED !!! CHARACTER METAGAME SPOILERS AHEAD !!! i will CURSE YOU with the DEVILS PLAGUE!!!

this website’s hate mail game is insane

I will answer this if i ever come up with something. I am literally looking up lists of positive traits on the internet. Tom said “unique” and like man i fucking???? guess???????

tbf breature’s self esteem is kind of in the negatives as of s4, so of course ooc im going to have a hard time pinpointing anything, as ooc perceptions do greatly influence a character’s perceptions of themselves.

There is, at the very least, a charisma. People will follow me around and hear me out to their own detriment. I often end up leading groups on accident, likely because I’m always going from one clear-cut goal to the next and other people will naturally want to tag along… I guess “driven” is a trait? I don’t think I’ve used this for one good thing so far though LMAO

tbh i think ME, irl bree, highly values a handful of traits and breature has sort of become an opponent of all of them.

i think, before the s3 alien conspiracy bullshit, there was a lot there. That was a well rounded individual. She had flaws but she wasn’t all flaws. But, at her lowest, she became the worst version of herself, and thennnn bc of the isolationist nature of the second season, almost all of her first impressions on other people happened when she was her worst version. So now it’s like she’s defined by this two dimensional parody. Everyone sees her as her worst version + she only knows how to interact with people as that worst version + most of her time alive in these games was as her worst version so she identifies with it = i am somewhat locked in to being horrible forevwr. despite being past what caused that spiral in the first place

like she has got to be one of the most hated ppl on beastlife I’ll be real LMAOOOOO in the two full seasons ive played ive been mourned Once. and it was by the guy i purposefully ruined the life of bc she has an unhealthy attachment towards me that i took advantage of at least three times. If that gives you any idea just how much I piss people off (and this is a server where most deaths are commemorated in one way or another, like it’s fairly culturally important)

sorry for the rant I’d say “i just love my fucking animal” but i really dont. bro is hated by her creator can you believe it… i do love doodling her badly in mspaint though ☝️