#probably something like ‘...see you on the other side’

[shotmrmiller]

living in some dingy apartment building because it is all you can afford on your income unless you want to eat danimals yogurt and saltine crackers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. the stern landlady lives on the first floor, and some neighbors blast music on weekday nights (even if they didn't, the walls are paper-thin. you know more about the cambrian period than you'd like to, thanks to room 105) but it's a modest roof over your head and while the darkened grout lines in the bathroom are permanent, at least there's hot water.

until there isn't. and the landlady has mysteriously gone on vacation for the next two months.

what used to be a cathartic cleansing has now become your torment. every other day is hair wash day which means you're bent over the cold, porcelain edge of your tub, back screaming in protest and pain shooting up your bruised knees even though you've sacrificed one of your very nice pillows to avoid exactly that.

and showering is torture. the icy cold water feels like a thousand tiny claws scraping over your tender scalp, sinking into your trembling shoulders. you don't wait for your body to acclimate, just hastily scrub yourself as clean as you can and hop out, your chattering teeth and shaky breaths echoing through the tiny bathroom.

it's like this for a week and a half, a whole 10 days of suffering with showers so cold it feels like shards of ice biting into your goosepimpled skin when it stops. warmth bleeds into the stream of frostbitten water. finally, it soothes instead of stings. your coiled, tense muscles gradually slacken with relief, with unadulterated bliss. steam rises, the tips of your fingers and toes tingle as if thawing. gratitude wells in the corner of your eyes.

if you had any money you could afford to give, you would to your savior, but every dollar you own is earmarked for the bare essentials. so, with your thick, warm bathrobe cinched around your waist, you pen down a little heartfelt note to stick to the bulletin board downstairs before heading out for work.

thank you, whoever you are, for fixing the boiler. i could kiss you <3

when morning comes, you use one of the dull, golden tacks that previously held a lost pet flyer (sorry, bilbo the hamster, but it's been a year) and pin your note up.

only to come home and find it gone, a torn corner all that remains. maybe it's karma for your callousness towards someone's pet. (justice for bilbo.) you shrug it off, giddily skipping up the steps to wash off the day's stress with hot water.

but before you even hang your keys on the wall, there's a pounding on your door, hard enough to rattle it in its frame. and the masked man you see through the peephole isn't familiar. against your better judgment, you clear your throat before cracking open the door. "yes?"

the piece of paper he's holding in his dinner plate-sized hands seems incredibly small— and it's your note.

"i fixed the water." oh. "'m 'ere for wha' 'm owed." owed?

"i'm not— um. the kiss. it's just a figure of speech." the thick muscle of his bicep coils as he crosses his arms over his barrel chest. he's a very large man, as broad as your door.

if you slammed it closed on him, he'd probably leave it hanging by its hinges. that's not worth a measly kiss.

"okay. but on the cheek since i never specified where so it's dealer's choice."

he huffs out an amused breath but complies, hooking his thumb under the edge to pull up his balaclava just enough to expose his stubbled cheek. he's got a couple of scars; thin, slightly raised. run along the sharp edge of his jaw and disappear beneath the fabric.

he leans close, enough to hear his steady, slow exhales. he smells of dirt. salt. something smoky, tangy-- like on new years, minutes after the clock strikes 12.

your hands cradle his face as you rise to your tippy-toes, wetting your lips and crane your neck-- but he snaps his head to the side,

and takes the kiss he was owed.

(he takes a screwdriver to the ac unit next. wire cutters to the fuse box. nails to your tires. anything that'll inevitably lead you back to him. you tried paying him with dinner but the only thing he was interested in eating was your cunt.)

[wanderingblindly]

On Intimacy (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 600 words, Drabble)

Written in a 20-minute sprint with some very supportive besties on Discord, who are single handedly prying me from my writing slump. For the prompt: "There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you"

God, it's embarrassing. He's only 24 years old, he's a professional athlete. Allegedly, he's in his prime – he should be, at least. And yet, staring down at his trainers beside the door, he's not.

He leans forward a fraction of a centimeter, hardly visible.

His back twinges.

It shows on his face.

It's been like this for days; the double headers and endless hours on the plane are taking their toll, the rough tracks are the icing on the cake. Jon's doing his best to work on him, he's doing his best to take care of it, and yet. And yet.

He can't bend down to get his shoes on, back extra stiff first thing in the morning.

He could do it, really, if he just admitted that he had to do it differently. Bending at the knee, keeping his back mostly stiff – he could do it. But he shouldn't have to; he's Lando Norris, he eats his stupid trainer-approved food and sleeps early when his schedule necessitates it.

His cheeks start to grow hot, vision going blurry with a destabilizing wash of budding tears.

Embarrassing.

"You ready to go?" Oscar calls from the kitchen, closing the fridge and probably tossing a water bottle between his hands. He raises a brow at Lando when he approaches the entryway, noticing Lando's fixated stare at his feet – at his trainers just a step away. "Lando?"

"Yeah," He says, wincing at the wobble in his voice.

Embarrassing.

But he can do it, of course he can do it. So he leans forward before jerking still – unable to keep the wince off his face. The tears – hot and frustrated and pricking at him from the inside – lose their battle with gravity, sliding down his cheeks.

"You're meeting with Jon first thing, right?" Oscar asks calmly, closing the distance between them with a quick stride. Lando nods, rubbing harshly at his eyes like he can will the tears away.

He doesn't see Oscar slide down to one knee, but he hears his water bottle thud against the floor.

With his palms still pressed to his eyes: "Get up." Lando's voice cracks, awash with a new wave of mortification.

"It's fine," He says, and Lando looks; Oscar's looking up at him, he tilted slightly to the side, fingers making quick work of loosening Lando's laces.

"I don't need you to put on my fucking shoes," The words are harsh, but his voice is pathetic; he's not angry, but rather hurt – self-flagellating.

Oscar shrugs, putting the shoe back on the ground and grabbing Lando's ankle. "I know you don't," His voice is calm, gaze fixed on guiding Lando's foot into the trainer, tying it up.

Lando's breath catches at the delicacy of his touch, something about it burrowing deep in his chest.

One shoe on and the other in hand, Oscar looks back up at him – the thin skin under his eyes flushed pink, lips quirked into the soft half-smile he saves just for when they're alone.

"But I want to." He finishes, driving the point home by reaching for Lando's other ankle.

"It's –" Lando starts to protest instinctively. Degrading. Unnecessary. Awkward.

Oscar cuts him off. "You know I'd do anything for you." He ties the second shoe with a sense of finality, not leaving any room for Lando's poor attempt at pride.

"Yeah," Lando says softly, pulling Oscar's gaze back up to him. He stands slowly, not breaking eye contact – nearly nose to nose. "Thanks."

"Of course," He smiles, leaning forward for a chaste kiss. "We're gonna be late to the track."

It's dizzying. Lando feels like he's floating on air, images of Oscar looking up at him running behind his reddened eyes.

He fights the butterflies in his stomach to get it out: "Right."

[ectologia]

Tomura Shigaraki is definitely a disgusting and depraved perv when it comes to kinks and fetishes, it's a known fact. I wanna know your ideas for all the fucked up things he's into, illegal or not ^^

KINKS & FETISHES

TOMURA SHIGARAKI EDITION

CONTENT ♱ IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, THIS IS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT WITH A PLETHORA OF KINKS AND FETISHES (INCLUDING NONCON), COMMON OR NOT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

ACAROPHILIA (AROUSAL FROM SCRATCHING)

Tomura loves the scratchies, we all know that. Whether he’s sad, anxious, frustrated or horny, you can always catch those blunt fingernails digging at his flesh like a dog in a flower patch. And, unsurprisingly, yours too. He likes the way you shudder as he claws down your skin, catching your nipples as he tears down your tits before watching the thin white lines raise into nasty looking red gashes. He’ll even drag his tongue over them to feel the bumps as he wanks.

ANAL TRAINING

Tomura is a disgusting and malicious man, so it should come as no surprise that one of his favourite past times is to see how wide he can stretch your ass open. He’ll make it into a game, timing you, finding different objects (safe or not) to squeeze up your butt, promising you treats and rewards if you can take having your sphincter stretched another 5 centimetres. And if you don’t think that’s a lot, trust, it is. And it’ll hurt. He’ll make sure of it.

ANONYMOUS SEX

Even evil crime bosses such as Tomura can get insecure too. On those days he’s feeling extremely low about himself, whether it be because a mission was unsuccessful or because his skin’s had a flare up and he can barely look at anyone. He’ll resort to skulking around dingy clubs and alleys. He’s not the biggest fan of glory holes, mainly because he’s scared there’ll be a dude on the other side sucking his cock. But he appreciates that he can be as weird or unattractive as he wants and still bust a fat nut into something other than his fist.

BATHROOM CONTROL

We all know Tomura is a control freak. And it just gets freakier when he starts telling you where and when you can go to the toilet. On most days, he’s tame about it. All he asks of you is that you tell him when your bladder’s full and he’ll give you permission to use his toilet. It’s only until he starts wanting to watch you shit and piss while he jerks himself off does it get a little.. worrying. He just finds it so cute when your little body does what it’s supposed to, and it’s even better when he’s the one that gets to be a bossy boots about it.

BREAST + NIPPLE TORTURE

As mentioned before, Tomura likes scratching your nipples. He’s also an avid enjoyer of slapping, pinching, twisting, stretching, biting, flicking and tickling. Really, there’s no actual explanation. He just enjoys watching you writhe in pain.

BREAST + NIPPLE WORSHIP

Equally, on the flip side. Tomura worships your tits, physically and spiritually. He finds them so beautiful, he reckons they’re his favourite part of your body. Romantic, right? He’ll kiss and hug and squish, juggling them in his palms before sucking one into his mouth while caressing the other. He’ll use them as pillows, resting his head on your chest before slipping away into a restful slumber. Probably to dream of even more titties.

CRUROPHILIA (A KINK RELATED TO LEGS)

Legs, legs, legs. Long legs, skinny legs, chubby legs, muscular legs, legs in tights, legs in thigh highs, shaved or unshaved. Tomura loves legs, he’s obsessed with them to some degree. Just the way he can do so much with them. Fold them against your chest, spread them out wide, throw them over his shoulders, or even bind them tight. He just loves legs.

BONUS

If you’re a fast runner, watch out, because Tomura will be chasing you in circles like you’re a gazelle in the savanna. He gets off to it, hardcore.

CUMSHOTS

Tomura will find any excuse to make something into a game. Give him something to aim at and he’ll be shooting semen at you like it’s an FPS. His favourite thing to spunk on is your clit, since it’s such a tiny target he feels almost accomplished when he manages to spit the creamy white liquid right on the little bud. (Before getting to lick it off)

FACE FUCKING

Who doesn’t love a nice, rough face fuck? Tomura definitely does. Tomura treats all your holes like sex toys, and your mouth is just another. He’s a hard, deep and fast fuck, using your hair like reins as he shovels his length all the way down your throat and back up again. He’s like a greyhound, once he starts he can’t stop. So what if you just threw up on his dick? He’s not done until he’s done.

FACE SITTING

Not in the way you think. He’s the one doing the sitting ‘round here darling. He’ll use it as a punishment, squatting over your face with his filthy asshole puckering and scrunching over your lips, Oh, what, you think it’s gross? Good. You better get used to the view of his hairy ass crack, baby, because you’re gonna’ be here a while.

FOOT FETISH

Perhaps the most common and well known of Shiggy’s fetishes, he’s a feet connoisseur. Manicured toes, soft soles and high heels are what he dreams of at night. Pumping his dick between a pretty girl’s smooth arches, legs bent with her steaming hot pink pussy nestled right between them? Hell yeah. He’ll alternate between worshiping your feet and having you worship his. He sucks your toes, you suck his back. It’s a 50/50 relationship.

BONUS

Though Tomura’s obsession is mainly sexual, he’ll massage your feet as an act of service purely because it’s his love language.

MACROGENITALISM

Some men like the pretty, pink pristine vulvas, the hairless ones with barely-there, tucked away labias and tiny clits you can barely get at. Some men aren’t Tomura. He wants it hairy, messy and sloppy. He wants to nestle his face between your bush and suffocate himself with the coarse hairs, he wants to gnaw and pull on your beautiful labia with his teeth and lick through every fold and crevice like he’s an explorer. He likes the women with big, gorgeous clits and fat, chunky cunts, and he won’t have anything less.

NONCON

He likes the way you scream and plead. How your guttural wails and ear piercing shrieks dull and splinter into pitiful whimpers. How your eyes mist into glassy, shiny goggles the moment he pulls the sluggish length of his manhood out and slaps it up and down on your tiny, twitchy clit. Back hunched as he places a boney finger to his lips, shushing and cooing at you as you heave through grit teeth when he splits into your folds. His big, bulbous cock head juts in and out with a slick pop as he pummels you into a shakey, traumatised little mess, pumping you full with his seed, wether you want it in your little womb or not.

PEODEIKTOPHILIA (PENIS FLASHING)

Though it sounds sinister, Tomura finds it positively hilarious. He likes to see that momentary, adorably shocked, deer-in-headlights look on your face when he drops his waistband for just a second, giving you an eyeful of his big, floppy cock and balls. Whether you’re on your own or with people, outside or inside. He’s incredibly sneaky and an all around menace. Walking past while you’re tucked into bed? He’ll wipe his clammy dick on your face along the way. Having a conversation with someone? He’ll slip his squishy pink head out of his boxers and thumb the slit with a cheeky grin. Brushing your teeth? He’ll chase you around the bathroom with his balls hanging out. Just know, he does it because he loves you. You’re his best friend.

QUIROFILIA (HAND FETISH)

Tomura likes pretty hands. Long, lithe fingers with manicured nails and soft knuckles. A stark contrast to his huge, calloused and, not to mention, destructive ones. He’ll kiss and caress the delicate appendages before demanding you wrap them around his cock, stacked atop one another as you stroke his prick up and down, foreskin clicking stickily as his balls jiggle against his thighs until he inevitably climaxes, coating your sweet fingers in the syrupy substance of his love.

SOMNOPHILIA (ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY WITH SOMEBODY THAT IS ASLEEP OR UNCONSCIOUS)

It can be for various reasons, the main one being you’re too tired to deal with him, so he just takes matters into his own hands. He’ll spread your pussy and eat it from the back as much as it takes until he can slip inside you nice and easy. Bouncing your unconscious self against the mattress with his dick nestled tightly inside your syrupy walls, while you stay tucked into bed all cosy and warm. See? It’s a win win situation.

WATERSPORTS

Similar to Tomura’s “bathroom control” kink, Tomura just really likes piss. Wether you’re squirting in his mouth after getting finger banged within an inch of your life, or you’re on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to give you a hot, steamy golden shower, he really doesn’t care. As long as at least one of you are drenched in piss by the end of it.

A TOTAL OF 17 KINKS THAT I COULD THINK OF (BUT I’M SURE THERE’S MORE)

[vveebee]

TEASER ! Bittersweet - Park Sunghoon | p.sh

based off of teeth by enhypen

pairing: best friend's ex boyfriend!sunghoon x afab!reader word count: currently 0.6k

all works | playlist

synopsis: after the brutal breakup of your best friend, wonyoung, and the infamous park sunghoon, you couldn't help but have the urge to rip his hair out. you were aware of his status. a wealthy playboy. but that doesn't alter your perspective of him one bit. when you accidentally entangle yourself into getting paid to fulfil his needs, sunghoon began to grow accustomed to you. what happens when your best friend finds out?

genre: enemies with benefits, enemies to lovers, jake second lead TT, secret relationship, betrayal, kind of slowburn(?), angst, smut

warnings: MINORS DNI, drinking, smoking, making out, skin biting/sucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex (always use protectionnn), fingering, reader kind of gets forced into doing it, more as i go

a/n: this is my first fic that i've ever posted so i really hope you enjoy this TT

release date? tba.

parts completed? 0/?

taglist is currently OPEN !

~ if you would like to be tagged once this is released, please either reply or send an ask, though i would prefer asks <3

teaser below ! ^^ Disclaimer: It is NOT proofread.

now playing: teeth by enhypen

BUZZ.. BUZZ… God, that was probably the nth time someone tried calling you. You didn’t bother checking the caller ID, but considering the amount of times they’ve called you, it was probably some prank or scam call. Since eleven o’clock in the morning, you’ve been trying to finish off the final details of your biology project, and you have been for almost twelve hours. Obviously, you took small breaks throughout the day, whether it was coffee or some takeaway, but you didn’t have any classes today so you thought it was best to maximise your working time. You always ask yourself why exactly you ended up choosing biology for your college course.

BUZZ—You finally picked up the phone, completely fed up with its vibrating. “Hello?” You spoke, your voice implying that you were annoyed and that the caller should probably hang up. You tucked your phone in between the side of your face and shoulder so that you could still hear whilst writing.

From the other side of the line, you could hear someone sniffing, it was subtle but you were still able to make it out. In confusion, your hand stops gliding your pen across the paper, dropping it and fumbling for your phone to see who the caller ID was. Your hand grasped the device close to your face, the light rebounding off of it. Your eyes scanned the name displayed on the screen, checking who exactly was calling you.

It was Wonyoung. Your best friend.

Without wasting any more time, you brought the phone up to your ear again.. “Wonyoung? Wait— Why are you crying? Did something happen?” You asked, obviously confused as to why she was crying at this time of day. All that was audible was the sobbing and sniffing of your best friend, and all you could do was listen. “Hey, hey… Why don’t we take some deep breaths, yeah?” Knowing that she probably wasn’t able to respond, you continued to help stabilise her breathing. “Deep breath in— and breathe out,” You instructed, again and again. After Wonyoung was able to normalise her breathing, you decided that now was the best time to ask about the cause of her constant crying. “So.? What happened, Won?” You started off gently, not wanting to frighten her back into tears. “Y/n…” She spoke, “It’s Sunghoon—” Unconsciously, you cut her off again, it was a habit you needed to get rid of. “Sunghoon? You mean that rich jerk you’re dating? Did you guys fight again? Won- If you guys keep fighting then it means you need to break up!” You exclaimed, voice beaming over the phone.

There was a slight moment of silence before Wonyoung began speaking again. “That’s the thing, Y/n. We aren’t..” The words leaving her mouth have you sitting upright in your chair.

“You aren’t? Oh Won, I’m so proud of you for finally leaving him,” You said, honestly proud of your best friend for leaving a toxic relationship behind. But then you quickly remember that she was the one that was crying. “You… were the one that left him, right? Won?” Again, there was that moment of silence, but longer, so you took the hint that you were wrong. “Look, Won, he didn’t deserve you anyways, and you deserved so much better than him.” You protested in the voice you always used when you tried to lighten the mood. Luckily enough, it earned a small chuckle from the girl across the line. “I say, how about I go to the convenience store to pick up some ramyeon, and I’ll head over to yours to eat it with you. How does that sound?” The words left your mouth so fluidly as if you’ve uttered the phrase a countless amount of times. A series of subtle laughs flooded your ears, “Of course, Y/n. I’d love that.” Wonyoung agreed, you could just hear the smile on her face, happy that she was happy now. Forget about your stupid biology project, it could wait. All you needed to focus on was comforting your best friend and hating on her shameless ex.

And that’s how you started hating Park Sunghoon.

@vveebee, 2024 | Please do not copy, plagiarize or steal any of my work and claim it as your own. reblogs accepted ©

[acotarxreader]

Little Drop of Starlight

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: A story of Azriel and you raising your daughter through the years, Azriels little drop of starlight.

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: The timeline of this is a bit wonky because I don't think I fully understand how they age but oh well. Also in this world, C-Sections exist.

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

“Where the fuck is she?!”

“Would you please calm down I'm sure she's a very busy Azriel” You smiled gently at the pacing Illyrian.

“Well she should be busy with us YN we should be top priority! I'm going to go find her!"

“Az the healer will get here when she gets here, please calm down your rising blood pressure is causing my blood pressure to rise which isn't good for the baby” he went from pacing to collapsing to your bedside, clutching your hand to almost bone-crushing.

“Do you need something honey?! Water? A pillow? A blanket? My jacket? That male in the waiting room’s jacket?” You laughed at your panicked mate, giving him some ease at the sound.

“What I need is for you to please calm down!” you turned your hand so you could rub the back of his instead, his eyes wild.

“You're right, it'll be fine, it's just with what happened with Feyre and Rhy-”

“-Az, it'll be okay, you're here with me”

“You're right again my gorgeous mate, we're in this together...now where the fuck is the healer?!” He jumped again from your side and you rolled your eyes, collapsing back on the plush off-white pillow.

“There are probably other babies she's seeing to first Az”

“Well, there isn't another baby as important as ours!” You smiled sweetly at your already proud mate and then watched him take off out the door, you failing to call him back.

After another hour or so Azriel had practically hauled a healer off the road by the throat, with you apologising the whole time.

“Hmm you seem to be at 10cm but the baby isn't coming? We need to cut!” the healer called out to her assistant.

“What what what?! Where are you taking my mate!” The medical team unlocked the bed from the wall and began wheeling you through the corridor with Azriel still clutching your weakening hand.

You lay splayed out on the surgical table, a team of surgical personnel like ants around you, plying you with a tonic to take the growing pain away. A tarp was placed in front of both you and Azriel to shield the operation. Azriel almost turning the same green as the tarp.

“The baby is almost here honey”

“Oh great, we should go camping sometime or we could all go to Spring Court on holiday, I’m sure that overgrown dog is over his tiff by now” he laughed at your drug-induced words. Through the healers scurrying and Azriel’s gentle encouragement your baby was soon screeching into life.

“Congratulations, it's a female” they carefully handed her to her father. Azriel looked at the little drop of starlight in his arms, almost afraid he'd break her.

“She's so beautiful Az”

“You're so beautiful YNN, I'm so lucky” Tears came to his eyes as the healer took her from him to be cleaned. He turned his attention back to you, rubbing your hand gently and kissing the top of your head as you were sewn back together.

“Thank you YN, thank you so much for our little drop of starlight”

5 years later.

“Come here, you little terror!” Sweet Pea playfully chased your daughter around the island unit of your kitchen.

“Hey, be careful!” You laughed from the kitchen table. Azriel collapsed on the seat next to you, totally out of breath.

“We should have another ynn”

“Emm, can we focus on the two we have first?” You smiled down at the 6-month-old son asleep in your arms. 

“Play!”

“In a second Luna, your old father needs a rest” he put a large hand to his quickened heart and you laughed at him.

“Can I play with Sol?”

“Not yet sweetie he's still too small and you're too strong” She seemed sad at first by your answer but then decided to take it as a good thing and continued running around.

Finally with the kids asleep in bed, Luna content with the two books Azriel had read, the two of you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, exhausted but content.

“Yn I love you so much” You rolled into his side.

“Really? Even after two kids?” You teased.

“Especially after two kids, Mothers are hot” he kissed the top of your head smiling. 

“Not as hot as Fathers"

“Oh talk Mother to me” he laughed, kissing your cheek.

“We-need-to-babyproof-the-sitting-room” you managed between kisses.

“Keep going” he hummed with a goofy smile.

“Cut-the-grass-tomorrow- or I'm- leaving you” You smiled back before meeting ferociously, Azriel’s leg just began to tangle with yours as a small voice came to the door.

“I'm scared” You broke apart and rolled your eyes at each other before Azriel sat up and called Luna over to the bed.

“It's okay little drop of starlight, I will always protect you” he pulled her into his chest. You had tried time and time again to get Azriel to stop leaving her sleep between you both but he really couldn't help it. He was putty in Luna’s hands. She laid between you both but of course, faced Azriel.

11 years later.

“Luna! I said no!"

“I'm 16! I'm old enough to fly alone! Why can't I go away with my friends camping for the weekend!”

“Because I said so! And take off the fighting leathers!”

“Ugh!!!!” She shrieked, ripping her jacket from her shoulders to reveal her cropped top and stomping upstairs.

“And put on a tarp for Gods sake!” Azriel shouted after her.

“You should just let her go, it'd be easier on all of our eardrums if your screeching starlight is appeased” Sol collapsed on the couch in the den alongside you. 

“Don't you have reading to do?”

“Oh yeah, annoyed with the favourite so we're all punished” he pushed himself off the couch and sauntered into the kitchen.

“We don't have favourites Sol” you called after him laughing.

“Az sit down” he sat as close as possible, cupping your hand in his.

“I think we should let her go”

“Absolutely not”

“Why not though? We went camping together when we were 16”

“Exactly, reason number one why she's not going, how we spent our camping trips” You smiled at your husband while his eyes were fixed on the stairs.

“And about the Illyrian leathers…”

“She's not joining them, I want her to be proud of her blood but that doesn't mean I want her to live it! She trains with Cass, hones her skills and never has to use them, that's the goal”

“You have to let her make that decision herself Az”  

“So you want her to die”

“Of course not!-” you hit him with the pillow “-but I know we've raised her strong and smart so I know she'll make the right decisions”

“I'm going to go talk to her” You nodded in agreement and he took off up the stairs. You snuggled down onto the couch, enjoying the peace and quiet before-

“YN!!!! LUNA IS GONE! OH SHE IS SO GROUNDED!” he came flying down the stairs taking two steps at a time, shadows darting in every which direction, Sol running back into the room.

“I get her bedroom after you kill her!”

“We are not going to kill her ... .okay you can have it” you winked before tying up your coat and helping Azriel with his, his rage preventing him from buttoning it correctly.

2 years later

“I get your room now you're leaving”

“Oh wow Sol I'll miss you too” Luna ruffled her brother's hair, her suitcase in hand, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Your travels are going to be great sweetie”

“I know I’m so excited” You hugged her, Azriel stood behind you almost afraid to look. The doorbell went off behind him.

“Wait wait, that's Wells, I'll get it!” She ran past Azriel, ripped open the door and leapt into the tall male's arms. You could hear Azriel growl so you tentatively took his hand.

“So, you're the male who thinks he's seeing my daughter”

“Emm em ye-yes sir” he put out his hand to shake Azriels and you immediately thought what a mistake. Azriel’s strength had Wells biting back tears.

“Well come on Wells! We better go. Bye everyone!” She hugged you and Sol quickly before standing in front of Azriel, Wells having run away with the bags.

“Bye, I love you, I'll be back at Starfall”

“I love you too, my little drop of starlight ” She kissed his cheek before leaving the porch for her new life.

3 years later

“Wells cheated on me!” Luna was sobbing on the doorstep of your home. You felt so terrible for her and yet you were secretly happy, the whole family having never liked Wells in the first place.

“It's okay Luna, you'll be okay sweetie”

“Is that my drop of starlight?” He looked at your worried face, the smile dropping from his face immediately.

“Oh Gods what's wrong?!” you separated from your weeping daughter, Azriel immediately closing the space to envelop her in a deep hug. 

“Wells cheated on me!” Ariel's eyes grew wide before separating again from her and almost handing a hysterical Luna back to you.

“Wait Azriel where are you going?!”

“I need to handle something, Sol! We have business to attend to son!”

6 years later

“Seriously, please make him stop crying”

“Leave him alone sweetie, his daughter just got married”

“Oh please stop talking about it I'll be sobbing...again” he put his hand up to you, forcing his eyes off his little girl in a big white dress. You kissed your teary mate tenderly before persuading him to look at his gorgeous daughter.

“You look so lovely my little drop of starlight” 

“Az! We're related now, can you believe it!” 

“No Cass, I really can't” his voice was dry and his tears were gone upon seeing Luna’s father in law.

4 years later

“Do you need anything my little drop of starlight? Water? A pillow? A blanket?”

“I need you to calm down please, it won't make the baby come any faster” You sat by your daughter and laughed at her reply, Azriel hadn't changed much in this regard.

“I have to go find the healer, it's time to get this baby out!” He paced, almost to the point he was wearing a hole in the floor. Cassian arrived shortly and quickly joined Azriels erratic behaviour.

“Sol sends his love and will be home from the continent as soon as he can” You stroked your daughter's hair as she ended another contraction. 

“Excuse me but only the father can be in here for the birth” The small healer's assistant was more than half the size of Azriel but almost as tough in her approach.

“You have to let me stay! That's my daughter!”

“Come on Az” you kissed your daughter's head before having to physically haul your mate and Cass by the ears out of the room. 

The three of you stayed out in that bright hall for more than 5 hours. Both you and Cass taking the opportunity to nap on Azriels shoulders, Azriel wired awake.

Finally, the healer came out and granted you access, Azriel hurdling himself at the door.

You got to hold your granddaughter first, Cassian cooing over your shoulder, his son doing the same.

“I'm so proud of you little drop of starlight" he rubbed her hand before hugging his daughter. “Thanks, for everything….you want to hold your granddaughter?” he nodded gently in reply. The minuscule baby was pried from your hands and gently settled in her grandfather's arms.

“Hello there my little drop of starlight”

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

Let me know what you think!

[tsimvkas]

fa cup winner — mason mount.

A/N: hii 👋🏻 so some of you liked when i tried this last time and i think this one deserved something similar! not my best work tho but i wanted to post tonight. hope you like this one

It had been a while since Mason won a trophy.

833 days, to be more specific. He checked the info when he couldn’t sleep the night before the big day, and it only made him feel more nervous.

His club was finally going to a final again.

A different one, yeah, and this still made him feel a bit weird, but he shook the thought out of his mind whilst wearing his suit. He needed to focus.

Even though he knew he would be lucky if he even get to play a few minutes, he wanted his mind to be there. Feeling the moment, with his team.

He wanted to share positivity and good feelings, and thinking about what he left behind wouldn’t help. He must think about what he could conquer from now on.

Wembley holds lots of memories for Mason and walking into the stadium wasn’t easy for him, but he managed to do it confidently.

‘Fake it till you make it’ is something Mason says to himself for years now. No matter how broke you are, you just need to hide long enough for you to be whole again.

He stuck to this mindset the entire season. No matter what, smile. No matter what, focus on your recovery. No matter what, it won’t last forever.

With this still in mind, he changed into his trainers and followed his teammates to the warm up. The atmosphere in the stadium could be felt already, and he smiled at the number of people on the red side, travelling all the way down from Manchester to support them — even though they disappointed them several times this season.

Mason knows the fans like him, and that they’ll like him even more when he shows up more next season. He waves a few times and when they all headed back inside, his anxiety kicked in.

Even if United wins, will the world consider him a champion? With a terrible season and probably only playing the end of the game. Will his medal mean anything when he barely played for months?

When Luke tapped his shoulder, Mason tried to shoot him a smile. Between half hugs and screams of “we can do this” and “let’s do this together”, Mason left the locker room to go sit on the bench, smiling excitedly at the sight of his teammates lining up.

He knows that on the other side there’s Manchester City. A club hard to beat. The winners of the league, their biggest regional rival.

But he also knows that nothing is impossible when you want something the way United wants this title.

Mason makes sure to jump and scream as hard as he can with his team’s goals, and happily gets ready when they call him in the end.

He only plays three minutes, but he doesn’t even care. When the referee blows the whistle, he has the answer: it doesn't matter if the world will consider him a champion. He feels like one.

Hugging his friends and teammates, feeling the fans’ screams pulsing on his veins, looking for his family in the stands and being incapable of holding his giggles, he feels like a kid who just found out the love for the sport.

They all wanted to win, desperately. But more than just wanting, Mason needed to.

He needed to hear the whistle blowing and half of the stadium screaming. He needed to see the defeated expression of his rivals whilst he ran to his friends’ arms.

The heavy trophy, the fans chanting and everyone screaming when it was his turn to lift it. He needed that.

Mason spent an entire season thinking about whether he had made the right decision or not. To see his friends successfully scoring, on top of the league and being loved by their clubs had hurt him.

He was so happy for them, but also so jealous. He wanted that. He deserved that.

But now, whilst posting his little dump on Instagram, Mason felt his heart heavy with happiness. Everything happens when it has to.

He spent a season wanting what others had, only for in the end to be the champion amongst them.

[nosesitter]

TOJI FUSHIGURO// the hot line cook

Theres nothing hotter than a man with a criminal record.

Toji had a record. He saw his parole officer more than his kid. He was in and out of jail. Sent to prison a couple times but always got out because he had “good behavior”. Had his sentences significantly reduced. Soon he was able to walk the streets again. He was fucking the warden. When you had met him he came into your job asking if they were hiring. They were, they needed a cook and he did kitchen duty in prison so he fit the criteria.

He thought nothing of you as first. The dumb little hostess who always came to bother the kitchen with stupid questions. You would come sauntering into the kitchen in that little black skirt and tight black low cut shirt, he would roll his eyes and set down his knife to answer whatever dumb question you had.

“Can you make the fish tacos with no fish?”

“Can you make a half well done half medium steak?”

“What meat comes in the chicken burrito?”

As much as he hated the questions the customers asked you he loved answering to you.

“Sure doll.” Was his favorite way to respond to you. And the blush that crept onto your cheeks showed that it was also your favorite way to get answered. When you switched to being a waitress Toji was ecstatic. Finally he was able to see you all the time. This is when the relationship the two of y’all had took a turn.

Smoke breaks outside became longer, the conversations became more intimate, and suddenly Toji was asking you to “help” him get something from the fridge that conveniently had no cameras inside of it.

Makeout sessions against the racks that held vegetables became a regular thing. Cold noses rubbing against each other was a comfort for the two of you. Then you became more bolder each day passing. Pushing him back against the rack behind him that held the marinating meat and fumbling with the stings that kept his chef pants up. Teasing only got you so far and you’ve decided you needed more. You needed his cock. Toji adored you for this. Making a bold move and taking what you wanted. Who would he be if he denied a request from a beautiful woman like yourself.

“Fuck babydoll, just like that.” Rough hand behind your head pushing you further down his thick cock, past your gag reflex. Toji knew the tickets were probably piling up on the expo and your tables probably needed refills. Clueless customers looking around for their waitress, just wondering where she could be. To busy trying to get the head chef off in the fridge.

Tongue swirling around the head he knew he wouldn’t last long. Toji hadn’t felt this good in a while and he wasn’t about to stop you so some dipshit in your section can get another Diet Coke. Instead he pushed you past your limit, just fucking your throat at this point and you allowed it. God he can’t remember that last time he came down someone’s throat.

“I’m gonna come doll!” And that’s what he did. The voices on the other side of the fridge got louder as he shot ropes down your throat. Pulling back you opened your mouth and showed him the pool of white on your tongue - in the blink of an eye it was gone. Pulling you back up he quickly shoves lemons in your arms as he grabs a marinated chicken. Suddenly the fridge door opens and there’s half the staff wondering where the chef and a waitress are.

“What I needed help with this.” Pushing past, Toji lets you out first while he follows behind giving everyone his stank face. He couldn’t wait to get you back in the fridge later that night.

There’s no way he’s was going back to prison now knowing that you would always be here ready for him.

[fairyysoup]

matters of taste

part one (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Not all trainees are great on the job. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson in a bakery, however? Absolutely unmatched.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, threesome - f/m/m, semi-public sex, workplace sex, car sex, handjobs, oral (f+m receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, spitroast, fluids play, dumbification, praise, degradation, implied masochism, mention of housewife kink, steve harrington has a big dick, enemies to lovers-ish but they're all crazy about each other let's be real\

a/n: this is my second time trying to repost this!! let's not talk about how ugly it looks ok i think the header is implying that reader is a sentient pie and honestly... yeah

It’s… you know what. It’s whatever. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine, everything’s fine.

You pause midway through frosting some cinnamon rolls to watch one of the newbies wheeling a cart of mislabelled muffins past your decorating table. You strategically keep your voice void of inflection as you say, “Price stickers, Harrington.”

“FUCK!”

You watch Steve dramatically jostle the cart back around to wheel it toward the rack that contains the multitudes of different flavor and price stickers used in the bakery, swearing like a sailor the whole time. He collides with another cart, and slams it directly into your other trainee, Eddie Munson. 

“Shitshitshitshit shit-” Eddie curses and stumbles into a rolling rack of donuts. He grabs the rack before it can topple over, and succeeds in catching four trays of donuts when they fall out of their slots and into his arms. 

You roll your eyes at the spectacle the two of them create, which is quickly becoming the norm, and go back to stroking globs of cream cheese frosting across the cinnamon rolls in front of you. 

It’s not like they’re the world’s worst trainees or anything. It’s not like they’re completely incompetent, or that they purposefully goes out of their way to make your job unnecessarily difficult or anything. It’s not like, together, they create the most chaotic and hazardous environment possible.

No, sir. Nothing to see here. No problems to be had. 

“‘You didn’t put the price stickers on, Steve-’” you hear Steve mocking you in a purposefully insulting falsetto, and give him a side-eye that you know he can’t see. “Mehmehmeh- ‘You didn’t put the bagels in properly. You didn’t frost the bundt cakes just right.’”

“‘You didn’t circumcise the bread bags,’” Eddie adds as he shoves the trays of smushed donuts back onto the rack and grabs a rag to wipe icing from his apron.

“Fucking what?” You turn to look at them fully, holding your frosting covered hands out in front of you.

“I don’t know!” Steve whirls around to sneer at you. His bubblegum pink uniform shirt is just about the same color as his face, rosy and flushed with the heat from the ovens and probably his climbing heart rate. “Why’s everything gotta be packaged differently? It’s just bread!”

“I don’t make the rules! Don’t argue with me and just do it!” That’s another thing. Steve’s just so argumentative, about everything. How you package things, how you wash the dishes, how you clean the floors at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Eddie won’t argue with you per-se, but the day he does something correctly will be the day pigs fly. It’s the most annoying fucking thing you’ve had to deal with at this job, and you’re stuck training them. 

It’s not a particularly hard job. You’re just clerks at Mimi’s Bakery, nothing is out of the realm of doability- it’s more of a stamina sport. You’re all closers, so that means a lot of packaging and a lot of cleaning, interspersed with helping some late afternoon and evening customers, within an eight hour shift. It isn’t very busy anymore, either; summer’s over, and you still have about a month until the holiday rushes start. It shouldn’t be too terribly difficult for them, but they’ve both been here for two weeks and still act like they were born yesterday.

Steve spends an extraordinarily long time putting the price tags on the packages of muffins- and putting them on crooked, anyway, so that the entire pile looks janky and rushed despite his slow pace. Eddie’s too busy wiping chocolate icing from his arms to notice Steve’s haphazard labeling. 

Your eyes trail the wet rag that Eddie drags across his skin, leaving behind only the ink from his tattoos for you to scrutinize. During the lull, the bakery’s PA system comically offsets the tension in the room with a generic old jazz standard. Your boss, Mimi Callaghan, has an enthusiasm for novelties from her youth- hence the confectionary shop-style pink pinstriped uniform dress you wear, and your clashing forest green apron just oozing with sex appeal. Steve looks like a knockoff Ken doll in his similar blouse and khakis, but he confessed to you on his first day that he used to work at the Scoops Ahoy in the old Hawkins Mall, so you assume he isn’t too phased by it. You’re not about to tell him that he makes it work. Eddie, on the other hand, looks like someone picked him up at the Local Smokes down the street and thrust him into the uniform against his will, like he’s not really supposed to be here. You hate that you find the weird juxtaposition of his tattoos to the pink and green uniform kind of hot.

“Don’t forget to face the shelves when you put them out,” you tell Steve as he pushes the cart past you again. 

Steve’s ears glow bright red. “I’ll put out something-”

“Suck my fucking nuts, Harrington, you wanna do the job right or not?”

Eddie cackles loudly as Steve turns around, but instead of glaring at you he just looks mildly amused, like Eddie’s hysterical laughter rubbed off on him. “Why’re you so mean to me, huh?”

“What?” You splutter, gloved hands flexing in the air and squishing frosting between your fingers. “Why- why’re you so fucking difficult? Put the goddamn muffins out, we don’t have all day-”

“I think she likes you, Harrington.” 

You squint at Eddie, still rubbing himself down leisurely with the rag, twisting his rings around his fingers idly even though he didn’t even get any icing on them. He leans against the counter with a smirk on his pretty pink lips like he thinks he’s done something. Like there can’t be another reason for why you’re so easily frustrated by Steve- by either of them, really. Like their lack of decorum or work ethic are completely out of the question, you guess, to his way of thinking. 

“Like him?” you scoff, trying to appear nonchalant as you go back to smacking cream cheese frosting across the pans of pastries in front of you. “Puh- lease. He’s infuriating, he doesn't listen to directions. Also, Steve, your customer service voice? It- you know what, it’s obnoxious. We work in a bakery, you don’t have to put the moves on every girl that comes in.”

“Oh, okay. Hear me out- maybe you don’t like my customer service voice because you’re jealous.” Steve hums, rocking back on his heels and looking even more smug than he did a few seconds ago. “I can put the moves on you, too, if you’re feeling left out.”

You don’t dignify that offer with a response. You kind of just want to punch him in the face. “Go put the muffins out and let me listen to the goddamn PA in peace.”

He has the decency to look shocked. “You like this goofy old shit?”

“I love this goofy old shit, which is more than I can say about you.”

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” Eddie hums casually, in as condescending of a voice as he can muster. “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t into Harrington. I know I am.” 

“And you, Munson-” You whirl on him, pointing one frosting covered finger angrily in his direction, at which his eyes go all wide and innocent. “Don’t even get me started. Your fucking hair gets everywhere. I swear I had to excavate an entire gerbil from the garlic bread you made yesterday. Take a fucking weedwacker to that thing, for the love of god. And… and your tattoos are fucking dumb.”

You don’t want to admit that you like the sight of the tattoos, actually. When Mimi had told you that the newbies you’d be training were gonna be “that darling Steve Harrington, and his friend, the Munson boy” you’d been a little bit pleased. There isn’t much to admire in a bakery except cakes, and if having the two of them around the bakery means things just got a little more scenic, then you were happy to have them. 

Unfortunately, a pretty face often means an infernal personality. Finding one without the other would probably take an act of god at this point. Times two, you got stuck with the fucking chaos twins.

“Dumb?” Eddie wolf whistles. “That smarts, sweetheart. It really does. You haven’t even seen all of my tattoos yet. I’d love to give you a tour of them, though-”

Your face burns at the thought of Eddie Munson letting you get a first class look at his tattoos. He probably has ones in places even god doesn’t know about, and you glare down at the cinnamon rolls in front of you to hide how flustered you are about it. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“I wish you would.”

“For christ’s sake- Steve. Muffins, now.”

Steve does what he’s told, for a change. It doesn’t give you as much of an ego boost as it usually does- really, you just feel sort of dull as you snap your rubber gloves off and throw them in the trash can to the side. You don’t know why you let them bother you as much as they do, but for some reason the just jerk your chain like nothing else.

The bell over the front door jingles, alerting you to the arrival of a customer. You take a quick peek at the ovens behind you to check the time; it’s nearly 8, and the bakery closes at 10. You fight to not roll your eyes as you grab a pair of gloves in case whoever it is wants something out of the display case. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Your voice is sing-songy enough that you want to smack yourself. A middle aged woman has made a bee-line for the counter, straight past where Steve is bent over a display table, struggling to shift all the old muffin boxes to the top and slide the newer ones underneath them. 

You stare at his ass for… probably way longer than necessary, honestly. 

The woman points at a singular cake box left on the counter from today’s special orders, and immediately reaches up to take it without any other introduction. 

Oh. One of these customers. The ones who come in and grab stuff off the counter without asking for assistance, who will walk back into the kitchen to look at the overstock racks and help themselves to things that haven’t been put out on the floor yet.

A tight smile curls at your lips as you snag the tag on the box and look at the name before she can yank it off the counter from you. “For Linda?”

The woman nods curtly. As you turn the box to face her, your eyes shift back to Steve as he moves around the side of the display table. He stretches his arm out to reach for a stack on a higher shelf, and your eyes linger on the way the short sleeve of his uniform shirt rides up to expose his bicep.

“This is not the cake I ordered.”

“What?” You snap your eyes back to Linda’s pinched face, glaring down at the cake on the counter. It’s a basic sheet cake, with white frosting and a screaming red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ on it. Not necessarily a masterpiece, but a neat and pretty cake nonetheless.

“I ordered a cake with a winning streak theme. This has nothing on it,” Linda says icily as you snatch up the order slip you had taken off of the box and inspect it.

“A marble quarter sheet with white buttercream and a red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ in black icing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… what’s on the cake, ma’am.”

“But there’s no other decoration. Where’s the winning streak theme?”

You blink, and briefly make eye contact with Steve over the woman’s shoulder. He’s all but abandoned his task of stacking muffin boxes, instead watching your face carefully as your conversation plays out. He raises one eyebrow at you, and you’re not sure if that’s him trying to be condescending or supportive. 

“I- I apologize, ma’am-” you start, looking for a way to dig your way out of the situation, “The order does say that you requested the theme, but you didn’t specify any decorations. Our decorators won’t take liberties with the order on their own if you don’t request-”

“I don’t have time for this,” Linda interjects, and you clamp your mouth shut with a dull ache beginning to throb in your temples. “I’m supposed to be at a winning streak themed party in twenty minutes and I have an embarrassment of a cake to show for it. I should be reimbursed.”

“The cake wasn’t paid for in advance,” you tell her mildly, trying not to crinkle the page with her order on it as you hold it up. 

“Uh… accommodated, then. I shouldn’t have to pay for something I didn’t want in the first place!”

“I’m afraid I can’t just give you a cake for free, ma’am. I’m not authorized.”

“Can I speak to your manager, then?” 

You open your mouth to say that, technically, you are what amounts to the shift manager. It’s just you and Eddie and Steve in the store, and even though neither of your job descriptions really include the word ‘manager’ in them, seniority rules over all. You’ve been here long enough to be able to train them, so by right you’re the one in charge. 

But then a warm hand touches the curve of your lower back, and Steve appears out of thin air to gently scoot you aside without so much as a hello.

“What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?” Steve smiles, and you could almost mistake him for being sincere if his fingertips didn’t dig into your back just slightly before pulling away. 

Linda visibly softens her demeanor, smoothing her stringy blonde hair away from her face. “Are you the manager?”

You scrutinize his profile, trying for all the world to read his fucking mind, because you have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s barely even taken a cake order, let alone dealt with a disgruntled customer with a botched one.

“That, I am!” Steve declares, and oh. Cheeky motherfucker. He’s doing the voice. He bats his eyelashes- big, long, sweeping blinks that you think can make him take flight if he tries much harder. “What can I do for you?”

“This girl,” Linda tells him shortly, not even looking at you when she motions in your direction, “is refusing to compromise about this cake. It’s not what I ordered, and if I have to show up for this party without a winning streak themed cake, I’m going to be embarrassed. The customer is always right!”

“In matters of taste,” Eddie says from over your shoulder.

Linda fixes Eddie with a cold stare. “I’m sorry?”

“That, uh… that saying.” Eddie steps up to your other side, obviously choking back a laugh as he clears his throat. “The full saying is, ‘The customer is always right in matters of taste.’ Meaning you’re right about your order, we can’t argue with your personal preferences.” 

“Exactly.” Steve shrugs easily, the picture of self-assurance as he takes the order sheet from your hand and looks it over. You’re not even sure if he entirely understands how to dissect the order sheet itself, but he looks convincing enough while doing it. “If you don’t like the cake, you don’t have to buy it. But my gi- ‘ this’ girl is right.”

You snap your eyes toward Steve, the back of your neck burning. His what?

Steve continues like he’s made no mistake whatsoever. “We can’t give you the cake for free- the only person who can do that is the owner.”

Linda scowls. “‘Take it or leave it,’ you mean?”

Steve affords her a kind smile. “I’d be happy to pull any of our cakes out of the display instead, if you see any you prefer.”

“No,” Linda insists, obviously unhappy about it, “I’ve been coming here for twenty years and this has never happened, the owner knows me-”

“We can call Mimi, if you’d like,” he adds. 

“No, like I said, I have a party in twenty minutes,” Linda says sourly, and begins digging through her purse. “No, I’ll pay for this one, I guess.”

Behind the counter, you watch Steve ball up Linda’s cake order sheet in his palm, squeeze it unnecessarily hard, and toss it into the waste bin. Then, faster than fucking lightning, you watch Eddie type the price of the cake into the cash register. He hits the sales tax button twice.

“Come back soon!” Eddie says cheerfully as he hands her the receipt. 

You stand motionless behind them both, dumbfounded, until Linda leaves. And then Steve’s immediately cursing, shaking his head as he turns and starts walking toward the back room, hands untying the bow at his waist to undo his apron. “They’ll say anything for free shit. Anything. What the fuck is a ‘winning streak’ theme, anyways? I swear- no, you know what, I don’t actually fucking care. I used to give out freebies all the time at Scoops. But this isn’t corporate, and Mimi knows my family-” 

You follow him closely, disappearing into the back with him as he continues blathering. “Why did you do that?” 

“Hm?” Steve pauses as he’s pulling his apron over his head, and stares at you for a few seconds, like he doesn’t even know what you’re referring to. And then, you see his brown eyes widen. “Oh! I guess… I mean, I could see it going bad, and I figured if she wasn’t listening to you, then she’d probably listen to me. If I, y’know. Put the moves on her.”

You snort loudly. “Always so fuckin’ cute- I could have handled it myself.”

“No, I know you could have. I know.” Steve nods, his hair sort of fluttering around his face as he looks away from you. “But… y’know, you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to, while I’m here. I’ve been tortured by KGB and fought monsters, I can deal with an angry customer-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh. Uh…” He pauses, eyes drifting off to the side, to meet Eddie’s, who trailed behind you into the back room and is lingering over your shoulder. “Dun- Dungeons and… and Dragons? Yeah… yeah! Have you- have you played it?”

“You?” Your giggle splutters loudly in your chest before bubbling up out of your throat unexpectedly. “Steve Harrington plays Dungeons and Dragons? You like that goofy sword and sorcery shit?”

“Fucking metal sword and sorcery shit, thank you very much,” Eddie snaps, and you scoff at him. 

Steve chuckles at your little jab at his words from earlier, looking anywhere but at your face. “Yeah, sort of. I mean… Munson taught me a bit about it.”

“Everything he knows.” Eddie’s grin is wide and holds an air of mystery to it, like he knows something you don’t.

“Hm. Put that on a t-shirt for me and maybe I’ll buy it.” You blush, staring at Steve’s profile as he pulls a water bottle out of the employee break cabinet and takes a long drink from it. Then, you turn to Eddie, who leans against the door jamb. “Where’d you learn that thing about ‘the customer is always right,’ anyways?”

“Hm? Oh… I used to help my uncle Wayne in his garage,” Eddie explains nonchalantly. “Learned a lot from watching him deal with customers.”

“Right,” you hum, nodding slowly, and then turn to Steve. “And you. You could get in so much fucking trouble if Mimi finds out about that whole thing. Where did you pick that up?”

“My best friend- Robin Buckley? You know her?” Steve says as he puts the bottle back in the cabinet and snaps it shut. You shake your head, and he goes on. “Yeah. She’s crazy smart. We worked together at Scoops, and Family Video. Always had a way to respond to everything, even though she’s awkward as hell. And before you ask- yes, she would have tried to put the moves on Linda, too.”

“Would she?”

“Oh yeah.” Steve grins at you fondly, making your heart stall in your chest a bit. “Every single move in the book. If you ask me, she’s better with the ladies than I am.”

You laugh, then nod your head slowly, looking him up and down. “Okay. You’re actually fucking hilarious, Harrington. Too bad I hate your guts.”

“Really? I’m moving up in the world.” Steve grunts. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, my darling dearest.”

“Is that why you almost called me ‘your girl?’”

His smirk creates cute little dimples in his cheeks. “No, I almost did that because you’re the only one who can tell me to suck on their nuts, and I’ll actually consider doing it.”

Before you can even take a moment to process that little wise-crack, Eddie’s distracting you. His hand passes through your line of vision, then comes up and presses against the front of your green apron, just against your breast. You genuinely think he’s trying to feel you up, and you snap your eyes down to find his ringed fingers scraping a giant drop of cream cheese frosting off of your chest. 

You feel your cheeks heat up. That must have come from when you were frosting the cinnamon rolls- more like smacking them around with frosting, really- and the fact that it was there the entire time Linda was here is more than humiliating. You must have looked like such an idiot, trying to conduct yourself like a manager-

“Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Eddie murmurs, using that same fucking condescending tone that makes your hair stand on end, before meeting your eye and sucking the glob of frosting off of his two fingers.

You get a sudden head rush, and it takes way more self restraint than it should to not audibly whimper. Oh, he really shouldn’t have done that. 

You stare at him for a long moment, your eyes flickering between his, and his fingers in between his ungodly pink lips. You… you feel like you’re fucking drowning, floundering around with your head underwater and you don’t know what to do. You snap your eyes to Steve, looking for some sort of sympathy or support, but he doesn’t give you any of that. Instead, he just winks. 

No. They absolutely should not have done that.

“Fucking… fuck this. Fuck both of you- I have work to do,” you hiss, trying to skirt past buckets of frosting to get around where Eddie’s blocking the doorway, but he refuses to step aside, instead creating a one-man barricade while he snickers and continues sucking on his fingers just to rile you up even more. “Fucking move, Eddie.”

“Oh, it’s Eddie now?” He grins, obviously enjoying how much you’re struggling, with your chest pushed up against his and your arm nearly circling his waist to lever yourself against the other side of the door. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, for a lack of anything else to say. 

“For the second time, I wish you would.” Eddie raises his hand and captures your chin, tilting your head up so that you look at him, instead of over his shoulder or to the side at Steve. Your heart jumps into your throat, feeling his damp fingers on your cheek and remembering how he had been sucking on them a second ago. “Might clean out that filthy mouth of yours.”

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” You snatch Eddie by his pinstriped collar, simultaneously pulling him down to your height and also pushing him back against the wire rack of boxes along the far wall. Eddie curses, stumbling and grabbing onto your hips as if that will steady himself. His nose nudges yours from this angle, and how close you crowd up against him. “You drive me up the fucking wall, Munson. You think you can just sweet talk me like I’m some uptight customer?”

“Woah,” Steve says from behind you, but he doesn’t sound the slightest bit surprised. More amused, and intrigued. “I think you struck a nerve.” 

“Did I?” Eddie whispers, with a hint of a smirk still on his face. His dark eyes are looking directly into yours.

He doesn’t even have time to breathe before you kiss him. Desperately. Long and hard and sort of angry, open-mouthed so that you can taste the frosting still on his tongue. He makes the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard- somewhere between a sigh and a moan, as his hands come up to cup your face and pull you closer into him. His knee slotting between your legs, not pushing up but just remaining solidly there for you to lean against it. It takes an inordinate amount of strength for you not to grind yourself down onto his thigh.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Steve says calmly from just beside you. 

Eddie pulls back for air, forehead resting against yours, thumbs stroking your cheekbones in a mockery of a tender embrace. “Go on. Show Harrington how much you hate him, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you grumble, but your hands have better plans. One stays on Eddie’s shoulder, but the other snatches Steve by the collar and pulls him forward so that you can attack his face with the same amount of fervor. Eddie has no compunction to be gentlemanly- while Steve’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, Eddie’s creeps up underneath your skirt to give your ass a tight squeeze, pulling you forward to grind against his thigh and making you gasp against Steve’s mouth so that his tongue can lick deeper into yours.

Nothing quite prepares you for how Eddie’s voice affects you when he says, “Uh oh, Harrington. I think I was right- she likes you. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You make a short noise in your throat, your hand sliding down Steve’s chest to his waist, fingers beginning to make quick work of his fly. “Let’s- let’s just double check, huh? Make extra sure.”

“God- yeah. Yeah, okay. Just- be on the safe side.” Steve’s tongue is burning up when it touches your neck, his head nuzzling down so that he can graze your throat with his teeth. 

Eddie catches your hand before you manage to wiggle it beneath his waistband, and looks you directly in the eye just before he spits onto your palm. You whimper noisily at the feeling of it, warm and wet, dripping between your fingers while Steve licks at your neck and heat simmers under the tender skin between your thighs.

Air punches from Steve’s mouth when you work his trousers down his hips and pull his erection out of his boxers- he’s not quite pulsing and swollen yet, but your fingertips still just barely manage to meet from how thick he is. 

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” you curse as you give him a languid stroke, feeling him shudder when you brush your thumb over his tip and then drag your hand down his length again. Eddie’s saliva helps to make the motion fluid and smooth, adding a slick sound to punctuate Steve’s loud gasp. 

“What?” Steve hisses, trying his best to appear passive, but his voice betrays him and cracks. He gazes at you a bit apprehensively, his doe eyes looking a little foggy with need as they flicker over your face and focus on your lips. 

“Nothing on earth needs to be this big.” 

Eddie’s free hand coming up to weave through Steve’s hair and jerking his head back. His teeth catch Steve’s earlobe just before he murmurs, “Told ya, big boy.” Eddie looks directly at you over Steve’s shoulder. “Harrington’s packing a fucking monster, isn’t he?”

You hum as you let your fingers drift along the length of him. Steve’s gaze suddenly turns darker, and his chuckle falls flat out of his mouth like an exclamation of awe more than anything. “Think you can take it?”

You don’t answer that. Your grip tightens just a bit and he groans loudly, his eyes rolling back as he tilts his head toward the ceiling. “Are you one of those guys that’ll come as soon as I gag?” 

“Fuck, maybe?” Steve’s hands cup the sides of your neck and trail up to cradle your head as you lower yourself in front of him. 

Eddie scoffs. “He can’t handle it worth a shit. Don’t go easy on him.”

“Then he’d better hold on to something.” You scrape your nails down his exposed thigh, reveling in the way his entire body shakes at the feeling. 

And, without any further warning, you wrap your lips around his cock. 

Steve curses, hands balling into fists just before he slams them down against the shelf he’s leaning on. Through your lashes, you watch him gasp for breath and you wonder if he’s honestly going to last long enough to fuck you properly. Not that it really matters, though, because Eddie seems like he’ll be more than happy to pick up where Steve leaves off. 

Eddie’s hand rests on the crown of your head, guiding you on Steve’s cock. His tip leaks with precum that tastes salty on your tongue when you lick at his slit, and as you take him further into your mouth, you realize just how right you were. He hits the back of your throat, making tears spring up in your eyes and a quiet moan bubble up out of your chest on its own when you choke. 

Steve just about loses his mind over it. He groans loudly, scrambling for a place to put his hands and ending up with a fistful of Eddie’s uniform shirt while he tries to compose himself. 

“Holy fuck, you look so good with your mouth full,” Steve grunts, his free hand coming up your chin as he slides his cock out of your mouth and back in again.

“I think I like her more when she can’t talk back to us,” Eddie chuckles darkly, pressing on the back of your head and making you choke again. 

Steve hisses, his fingers tightening on your cheek. “Look at me, let me see those eyes- there you go. Pretty baby.”

You whimper, letting your jaw go slack so that Steve can fuck your mouth all he wants while you try to steady yourself. You should hate it. You should hate this- you hate them both. You think. 

Wait. Do you? 

You’ve never been this needy before, but hell if your cunt isn’t just throbbing in your uncomfortably wet panties, and your nails are digging into Steve’s skin where you grip his thighs for support. If he notices any pain from it, he doesn’t say anything- just keeps giving you these erotic little gasps every time his cock nudges the back of your throat and your eyes flicker shut for a moment before he taps your cheek and makes you open them again. 

“We should do this more often,” Steve says thickly, and without thinking, you hum in agreement. You add a little resistance against Eddie’s hand on your head to regain a bit of control, letting your tongue roll against Steve’s length however you want. 

“You think she’ll give it this good if she’s getting fucked?” Eddie muses suddenly, his finger’s toying with your hair rather than guiding you anymore. 

“Fuck- only one way to find out.” Steve shakily releases the fistful he has of Eddie’s shirt, letting him slip away from his side. Eddie’s hand leaves your head, instead falling to the tie on his apron to start undoing it. 

You whine softly, shuffling up on your knees and nearly slipping when you feel Eddie’s hands flipping the skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the cool air. His large hand smooths over the hem of your underwear, then lowers to stroke the cleft of your pussy through the fabric. 

“Oh, poor thing.”  

“What is it?” Steve asks. 

“She’s soaked through these pretty panties,” Eddie coos softly as his fingers stroke back and forth over the fabric, nudging your clit with achingly gentle, indirect touches. You moan, arching your back for more. “Baby got so wet from sucking Steve’s cock, huh? Sweet little pussy needs some attention?”

“Shit. God, that’s so hot. Fuck-” Steve grabs your hair, guiding you off of his cock with a wet noise that makes Eddie’s fingers press on your clit just a little bit harder. You splutter, drool trailing from your lips and dripping down your chin as you try to catch your breath. Something you can’t quite do, because Eddie won’t stop touching you. 

Steve tilts your head up, leveraging you backwards a bit as he kneels in front of you. “You want Eddie to fuck you? Is that what you need?”

You nod, wrapping your hand around Steve’s wet cock and giving him a few slow pumps. “Yeah, I-” you hiccup when you feel Eddie’s fingers hook your panties to the side, and dip through your dripping folds, unobstructed. “Oh fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Don’t hate us so goddamn much now?” Eddie croons as he presses two fingers deep into your pussy. 

You groan and hang your head, forehead pressing up against Steve’s navel and your nails sinking into the meat of his thigh. You can feel his cock twitch in your hand, and it occurs to you that he likes that pain- or maybe he just likes holding you against him while Eddie fingerfucks you.

Steve’s fingers card through your hair tenderly. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Munson. I think she’s having trouble talking.”

“For a change.” Eddie curls his fingers, and you nearly lose your balance, thankful that you have Steve to hold you up. “So fuckin’ wet… I think I want to taste it first.”

Eddie’s fingers leave you, and you openly sob against Steve’s stomach as his grip tightens in your hair. “E-eddie…”

His two hands curl around the waistband of your panties, and rip through the fabric as though it’s only paper. “Hold her up, Steve, it sounds like she’s gonna need it.”

Steve puts his hands on your shoulders and holds you up, rocking back so that he can get a good look at your face. Eddie spreads your legs apart, and you can feel him crowding his body in between them. There’s a slight pause, and then his tongue touches you, licking a stripe of fucking fire through your cunt from behind. 

Oh shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s too good, too warm and slick when you’ve been aching for it for way too long, your clit pulsing desperately and burning hot when his tongue strokes over it. You strain up against Steve’s hands, but he keeps pushing you forward, keeping you there against Eddie’s mouth. You moan obscenely loud, your hands tearing at Steve’s shirt like it’ll somehow convince him to let you go. 

“You’re so damn pretty like this, angel,” Steve whispers, tilting your chin up when your head falls so he can keep looking at your face. He’s flushed, his lips parted and his eyes drooping and so dark that you nearly balk under his gaze.

Eddie groans in the back of his throat and finally pulls back, and you’re not sure whether to chase his mouth or to sob for relief, so you sort of do both at the same time. He plants a hand on your ass to keep you from falling backwards into him. 

“Fuck, she tastes so sweet. Here-” You feel him move, and then Steve holds up a hand to catch something that Eddie tosses to him. 

You lift your eyes and discover that Steve is holding your torn underwear. The light blue fabric looks so out of place and innocent, little pink flowers decorating the waistband. It makes it worse that he’s looking directly at you, keeping you frozen in place. He holds them up to his nose and breathes deeply, letting his eyes flutter shut just briefly before he looks at you again and drags the soaked crotch of them across his tongue. 

“Steve…” you breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of him and the sound of his groan of pleasure. You search for something to say to him, but nothing comes before you feel something hot and thick pushing into your soaking entrance. You gasp, and then claw at Steve’s thigh in lieu of something to hold onto. “Fuck, Eddie-” 

“Shouldn’t you be choking on Steve’s cock right about now?” Eddie hisses through his teeth, sounding strained and letting out a low groan to punctuate it. 

You whine, feeling unbelievably stretched and full as Eddie splits you open, but you still scramble backwards and sink your mouth onto Steve’s cock so quickly that a gasp leaps out of his chest. 

Steve punches out a little laugh, his hand twisting your hair and pushing you down until your eyes water. “So agreeable once you get your pussy filled.”

“God, she’s so tight,” Eddie grunts as he hollows out and starts thrusting, reaching deeper inside you each time. You don’t think it’s so much that you’re tight as he’s just big- you haven’t seen his cock, but you can feel it, like you haven’t fucking felt anything else before, and it’s good. You can feel every inch, every ridge, and it makes your eyes fully roll back into your skull. “Fuck, you gotta feel this-”

“Can’t. ‘M not gonna last, shit…” Steve sounds wrecked, his words coming out sharp and desperate. The hand on your head is shaking, and you’re honestly impressed he’s lasted as long as he has. “‘M gonna come down this pretty throat.”

“You hear that, sweet pea? You gonna swallow all of Steve’s cum?” Eddie’s hand weaves through your hair around Steve’s fingers, aiding in shoving your head down onto his cock. 

As if you weren’t going to, and as if he wasn’t already fucking your mouth faster than you could reasonably keep up. But you whimper and bury your nose in the patch of coarse hair at the base of Steve’s cock, inhaling his scent and tasting his musky flavor on your tongue, and you swallow around him. And then you keep swallowing, because Steve comes hard.  

He sounds absolutely gorgeous when he does it, too. If Eddie wasn’t fucking you so hard that you couldn’t stop whining, you think it would be nearly like a symphony to hear Steve reduced to quiet whimpers. By the time the hands on your head relax enough to let you off of him, though, he’s completely out of breath. 

“Good girl,” Steve pants, his hand lifting up to caress your cheek and to wipe a little dribble of his cum from the corner of your mouth, so soft that it could be construed as sweet if there wasn’t any context to it. “Fuck… you were so good.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie coos into your ear, still driving his hips into yours with such force that it’s jolting you toward Steve. “Good baby, pretty baby- takes cock like a perfect little slut.”

You groan, hanging your head and arching your back toward Eddie. You seize up, your orgasm simmering low in you like the receding tide before a fucking tsunami, and you’re almost scared of how big it feels. 

“She liked that,” Eddie chuckles darkly, bending further over you so that his breath tickles your ear. “You like it when I call you a slut, huh? Our perfect. Little. Slut.”

You open your mouth to say his name, tell him to shut up, or keep going, or anything, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. Your hand juts forward and clamps down like a vise onto Steve’s thigh, finding that he’s pulled his pants up. Your nails scratch at stiff khaki twill, trying to beg him to take pity on you, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. 

“Pick her up,” Steve says above you. “I want to see her face when she comes.”

Oh, so he’s trying to kill you, actually. That tracks.

Eddie’s arm snakes around your waist and hauls you up, and he rocks back onto his heels to pull your back against his chest. He hugs you close to him, shushing you when his cock hits you from a different angle and you cry out sharply from the feeling. 

“Pretty thing can’t take it,” Steve murmurs as he crowds in close, his hands coming up to caress you through your dress. The fabric is too goddamn rough and itchy, and your skin is too sensitive for him to be toying with you now. 

“Oh, she can take it.” Eddie sounds so sure, his voice rough and stony as he rocks his pelvis up against you while, at the same time, pulling you down into his lap. “She can take all of it. Can’t you, baby?”

You hope the question is rhetorical. You’re trembling, too lost in the feeling of the mind-numbing bliss Eddie’s giving you to come up with a response at this point. Your hand plunges back over your shoulder into a mess of curly hair, and you feel him turn his head to brush his lips against your ear. 

Steve’s hand brushes up your thigh, creeping under your skirt that’s draped across both you and Eddie’s knees. You barely have time to pick your head up and intellectualize what he’s doing before his thumb touches your clit. 

“Oh fuck-” Eddie chokes out urgently, just at the same time as you sink your nails into his forearm and all of your floor muscles lock down around him. 

And then the tsunami hits. 

You nearly scream, your cunt tightening up to wring everything out of the sensation that it can. Eddie’s cock is so hard and it hits inside you so perfectly every time that you swear you’re going to die from it. You’re collapsing forward, despite Eddie’s grip on your waist and Steve’s solid chest creating a barrier for you to fall into- your limbs feel liquid, all your muscles finally relaxing all at once. 

You feel Eddie falter, his hand slipping on your waist so that you do fall into Steve’s chest. While Eddie’s cock throbs inside you and his moans fill your ears, Steve’s hands cup your face and tilt your head up toward his. And then his lips are on yours, and his tongue is licking deep into your mouth at the same time as you feel Eddie come deep inside your cunt. 

You don’t want Eddie to pull out. Not really. You’re not going to tell him to stay there inside you while you’re both crouched awkwardly on the hard floor, but you do wish he’d take at least a few seconds before he does, because the aching emptiness he leaves in his place is enough to make tears spring up in your eyes. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, you did so well,” Eddie whispers as you sob openly from the sensation, his arm coming back around your waist to pull you against him. And then you both sort of topple backwards, his shoulders hitting the stacks of backstock frosting buckets as Steve shuffles back to lean against the wire rack across from you. He pulls your legs into his lap and starts stroking his hand across your bare calf. 

You try to catch your breath while Eddie reaches for something on the floor off to the side. You blink your eyes open to find him fiddling with his discarded green apron, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket in it before wadding it up into a little ball. 

He promptly tucks it between your legs and starts cleaning you up with it. 

“R’you using your apron… as a cum rag?” You slur tiredly at him, squeaking a little as the rough fabric scrapes across your overly sensitive clit. 

“Don’t want to leave a mess,” he mutters easily, making Steve chuckle across from you. “Why s’it that I can fuck you half out of your mind and you’ll still bitch me out about how I clean shit?”

“‘Cause it’s fun t’see you all mad. You’re pretty when you’re pissy.” You feel his chest shake with laughter as he finishes wiping you down and tosses the apron aside, then wraps his arms snugly around your middle. 

“Good thing you’re pretty all the time, then.” Eddie huffs, rocking you back and forth a little as he fits his head on your shoulder. You tap your fingers across his forearm, looking down at them and humming contentedly. 

“What is it?” Steve asks, smiling at you almost fondly. 

You sigh, dragging your fingertip along Eddie’s skin. “I like his tattoos.”

“I knew it,” Eddie whispers, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, making you giggle and shut your eyes. “I still haven’t shown you the rest of ‘em.”

“There’s always next time.”

Steve blinks. “You want to do this again?”

“Of course I want to fucking do this again, Steve,” you snap, rolling your eyes playflully. “Been wanting to jump both of you since you started, wasn’t it fucking obvious?”

“Was to me.” Eddie’s finger traces along your collar, toying with the first button on the front of your uniform dress. “Also, I haven’t seen your tits, so. I’m not done with you yet.”

“I dunno, the dress kind of does it for me,” Steve admits, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s, uh… cute. Like a 50s housewife or something.”

“Let’s get you a string of pearls and see how long ‘Big Dick’ Harrington lasts then,” Eddie snickers, and you laugh tiredly as you watch Steve flush. 

You fall into easy silence, but just as soon as you relax into Eddie’s arms, the bell over the front door of the bakery jingles. And then the hand bell on the front counter dings loudly. 

And dings again. And dings again. And dings agai-

“You gonna get it, this time?” Steve asks Eddie, sounding a little bit grumpy already. 

“No, I’m gonna hold her a while longer,” Eddie says coolly, not leaving any room for discussion. He presses a tiny kiss to your neck, just underneath your ear, and you squeak in surprise at the lightness of it. “Go get ‘em, Mr. Manager Man.”

“Fuckin’-” Steve rolls his eyes as he gently sets your legs aside before gracelessly clambering up off the ground. He smooths out his uniform, tucking in the tail of his shirt before striding through the door into the kitchen. “What’s up, party people?”

“Do you have any chocolate cakes with white buttercream already made? I need it for tonight.”

Eddie scoffs in your ear, his hand drifting across your thigh to rest just shy of your pussy, making your breath hitch and your hips cant up toward his touch. “They always wait for the last fuckin’ minute, don’t they?”

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt in the vlog ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Today, you had agreed to take part in a Friday car video. You originally thought this would have been a good idea, since you loved hanging out with the guys and having a good laugh whilst filming with them, the random topics taking your interest.

However, you hadn't slept the best, resulting in being slightly grumpy. You woke up in Matt's bed, taking shelter there after waking up a couple times during the night. You glanced at your phone to see it was nearly two in the afternoon.

"Yo! Kid, you awake!" You heard Chris shout, as the bedroom door flew open.

"Mhmm." You grumbled, looking over at him.

"Wake up! We had a change of plan, we're going to do a vlog today!" He exclaimed, tugging the covers off you.

"Alright." You said, getting up.

Chris smiled as he trudged out the bedroom again. You picked some clothes before heading to the shower. The hot water relaxes your muscles.

Once you had got dressed, you went to the kitchen to see the trio sat at the table. Chris was rambling on about something, as Matt ate what would be his breakfast and Nick silently listened.

"Morning kid." Matt called softly, seeing you walk over.

You waved as you went to the fridge and got some yogurt to eat, before sitting down next to Nick.

"Someone's not chatty this morning." He teased, pushing your shoulder gently. You gave the eldest triplet a side eye before eating your breakfast.

Once you had finished, Nick started to vlog. He introduced it as a surprise vlog, as it wasn't a usual car video and proceed to ask the fans what they preferred.

"We also have our special guest today! Say hi to the vlog~" Nick sang, pointing the camera at you.

"Hi." You shortly replied.

"She's not very talkative this morning. Mini Matt is awake though and she's coming along for the ride!" Nick shouted.

You rolled your eyes as you all headed to the car, Matt saying he needed to get gas before anything else. You got in the back alongside Nick as usual and Chris started to play his usual music.

"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with people these days." Matt grumbled, talking about the car in front of him that suddenly kept braking for no apparent reason.

"Idiots." You muttered, making Nick laugh from besides you.

After a while, you soon arrived. Matt started to fill the car up as you went inside, Chris vlogging and Nick talking away. You walked off slightly to grab some sweets, seeing they had your favourites.

"Hey kid! Look!" Chris shouted over to you.

You looked up and saw him holding some other sweets you liked. You gave him a nod, letting him know you wanted them. He smiled as he continued to vlog.

"Our next stop is pizza!" Nick cheered once you were all back in the car.

Matt began driving again as Chris started to eat some taffy he bought. It didn't bother you that much, however his chewing was suddenly louder than normal.

"Chris can you chew like fucking quietly." You said, making him laugh.

"It's taffy, bub. Kinda hard to chew it quietly." He stated.

"No it's you fucking mouth. Learn how to chew, bud." Matt responded.

"And the Mattitude and Mini Mattitude is out! Stay tuned to see much more in the rest of the vlog~" Nick said, making you shake your head and roll your eyes.

You knew it was going to be a long day. You loved the guys, but if Chris was going to continue chewing loudly, he'd probably have pizza all over his face.

[drefear]

Major in English, Minor in Criminology

Murderer!Miguel x Journalist!Reader

TW: smut, cursing, Miguel is a bit of a creep and a dick. Murder, violence, rough sex, light BDSM and squirting, manipulation, voyeurism, probably other shit, he's a fucking murderer.

This is where your English degree got you. 

Tied up in someone’s… garage? Basement? Storage container? You didn’t really know, since you just woke up here. How long has it been since you’d seen sunlight? Your skin felt sticky and filthy from the sweat and grime on you. 

This all started because you, a reporter, wanted to get into more serious reporting instead of stupid “Dairy Queen Price Changes,” or whatever you were supposed to be doing. You instead begged your boss to do something more dangerous and cutting edge, which would be the murder happening near the library in your town. You’d been going there to take notes about the crimes when someone grabbed you from behind and hit you with a heavy, lead pipe. 

And you woke up here. 

The door is metal and the walls are concrete, with a toilet and a sink, and a wrought iron bed bolted to the ground. There’s a slot in the metal door, and there’s blood stains all over. The sheets of the bed, the sink, the floor by the single window that’s been covered from the outside. 

You’ve woken up a few times and can only assume it’s been four days. You’ve flipped your pants inside out and used your blazer as a blanket by now, trying to use your resources to at least be slightly less uncomfortable. Even your throat feels raw and gross, having not spoken since the day you got here. 

Suddenly, the slot opens and food slides through before you sigh. 

“Thank you…” you speak quietly and the slot opens again, sliding through a bottle of water… with tape on the top of the bottle instead of a cap. 

“Did…” you begin to yell, “did you drug this?” 

A laugh is all you hear through the cracks of the slot and you sigh again. If you were any less sane, you’d think the laugh was sexy and raspy, but at this point, you’re sure you’re just deprived from human contact. 

Completely dehydrated and starved since you are basically getting nothing here, you gulp down the bottle of water in no time and begin to scarf down chicken nuggets like it’s no one’s business. 

“Um… excuse me?” You call out, with no success. “Can- is there any way I can take a shower?” Another laugh roared through the door and echoed in the room as you bit your bottom lip. 

‘Don’t cry, don’t cry.’ Your mind played that mantra over and over until you were strong enough to not cry. 

The next day, or so you thought, you woke up stiff and dehydrated once more as you heard another meal slide through the door slot, but you ignored it. You were beginning to hope for death, maybe die of starvation or dehydration instead of giving him the satisfaction of killing you himself. 

A grunt made you perk up and you turned towards the slot to see two eyes peering at you in the humid, uncomfortable darkness. A chill went down your spin as his eyes looked red in the dark lighting, like two lasers, and you squeezed your eyes shut. 

‘You’re just hallucinating, it’s ok. It’s not real.’ 

A second water bottle sliding through the slot made you look back to see the eyes once more, just blankly staring. 

You slowly moved to grab the two waters and back away, like a small animal trying to escape a large predator. 

As you retreat and knock against the iron bed frame, you calm down and think to yourself, ‘I win this round… but what happens when I lose?’

Your conscious wrestles with itself while you nibble on the empanadas he gave you, and shiver on the cold floor. A second goes by before you lock eyes with the man on the other side of the door once more, feeling them first before you gazed back at him. A beat passes before something else slides through the slot. You pick it up and realize it's a thin sheet. Did he know you felt cold? Did he see you shivering?

You covered yourself with the paper-like blanket and sat in silence as he closed the slot, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Why was he being nice? 

Hours later and you could hear him walking around, heavy footsteps across the door. Were you… In his house? You tried to map out a few rooms from where you could hear things echoing before you heard what sounded like a refrigerator opening. 

“Hello?” You called out and all sounds of movement seized. “Can I have more water?”

A few footsteps came closer to the door, but nothing came. “Please?” 

The sound of him walking away was all you could hear before you huffed and pouted. The hot and cold moods were annoying, and you were literally being held captive! You pushed the slot open a bit and saw a bottle of water, open, sitting a few inches from the slot. He was playing games with you. 

A grumble pasted your lips as you wiggled your hand through the slot and tried to grab the water, despite it feeling like your hand may get stuck. As you made a swipe at the bottle, it toppled over and spilled away from you. Laughter filled the room as you realized he had been watching, and you tugged your hand through with rough pull, scraping the top and giving yourself a scratch. You slumped your shoulders as he was still chuckling and sat on the bed, no longer interested in his games. 

The next day was the same, he shoved the food in with the water, but you again didn’t move. You have no energy or attraction to his schemes to play with you like a puppet. A grunt made you turn towards the slot and red eyes looked back at you, but you shoved the finger into the sliver of light and turned back to the wall. 

A few hours later, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest when through the cracks, you heard the voice once more. The rumble of a groan and yawn is all you heard before the door swung open and a large silhouette stood before you, almost reaching the top of the door frame. His big arms held where his head almost hit and you realized that you were in bigger trouble than you previously thought. Most killers were scrawny or at least normal sized, using weapons to kill. 

This man was a monster! 

You were confident that he could use his bare hands to kill you. 

His red eyes glared towards your cowering body as he began to close in towards you. Of course, with your luck, you were already sitting in the far corner of your “bed” as he latched a hand around your bicep and jerked you towards him. Tears pricked your eyes as he turned you around and forced you to bed over on the bed. You felt him begin to tie your hands together with a brittle rope, biting into your wrists with the roughness, and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“You’ll take a shower and I’ll watch.” He said, with the same sexy rasp you thought you’d hallucinated. His words sunk in and your eyes popped open like a champagne cork. “Really?” You perked up and smiled a bit. A shower! It’s what you really wanted, but a second passed and another thought about what he just said made you look down. “You’re going to watch me?” 

“Can’t let you escape because I was dumb enough to leave you alone in my bathroom.” He answered and pulled you up, practically carrying you out the metal door. 

You looked around and saw the cozy insides of a house, pictures on the wall, a centerpiece sitting on the dining room table. He even had the tv on in the living room, a soccer game playing. He was keeping you in his home.

You looked back at him and saw something else now. 

He was fucking gorgeous.

The fullness of his lips, the high cheekbones, his tousled and messy brown hair, and deep olive skin… He was basically perfect. You tried not to look so obvious, but you couldn’t help the blush creeping up your neck. 

Of course you would be turned on by your kidnapper. 

He readjusted you in his arms and basically tossed you over his shoulder, which made you let out a small, helpless squeak, to which he chuckled. You felt something hit you in the back of the head and realized it was the door frame. 

That’s how large he is.

You sighed as he sat you on the counter and you looked around as he started the bathtub. The countertops were all bare, and he had no shower shelves or anything to put any bottles or soap bars on. There were three containers sitting next to you: shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Your brows furrowed as you looked back at him, now staring at you were vacant eyes. He was completely unreadable as he looked down at your clothing and then back up at you. Following his line of sight, you looked down and saw he was just looking at your shirt. 

Then it made sense. 

“You… you’re going to take my shirt off?” 

“I have other clothing for you to wear, but I’m going to cut it off you.” He concluded and when you were about to protest when his eyes darkened while he held a knife. Suddenly seeing your kidnapper holding a knife so close to you made your jaw lock and your throat go bone dry. Your heart rate quickened as he tugged you closer to him and pushed the tip of the blade under the fabric, slicing towards himself. Your eyes focused on his face and you saw how concentrated he was on his knife on you. You stayed as still as possible to avoid him possibly nicking you, and soon the shirt was torn through and you were in your bra. He looked like he was thinking hard as he looked at your bra. The silence was heavy as he just watched you, your chest heaving up and down from the anxiety beginning to really take hold. His lips pursed before he spoke. 

“Why were you at the library that night?” His voice almost surprised you from how quiet the room was, and you hesitated before you answered. 

“I am- I was reporting the murders.” You corrected yourself as he moved the knife towards your cleavage before you leaned away. “Wait-! The straps are removable… so you don’t have to ruin it. You can just unhook it and then unclip the straps.” You pleaded and he just blew a stray strand of brown hair from his eyes. He relented without a word and started unclasping your straps, continuing to question you. 

“So just to get this straight, you went alone and unarmed to the scene where a murderer was finding his victims knowingly?” 

You looked at the ground, ashamed. “Well when you put it that way, I sound stupid.” 

“You are stupid.” He announced and you bite your tongue, seeing as he was a knife-wielding murderer and you liked your blood inside your body. As he continued to unhook your bra, the cups fell off of your body and your breasts were free. He stared, briefly in awe, before he got back to cutting off the rest of your clothing. 

Once you were naked, he just picked you up and placed you into the water before wetting your hair and starting to massage shampoo onto your head. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out a question you’d been thinking of all day. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked and he froze, then sighing and continuing to clean your hair. 

“I don’t kill women. I kill men who like to assault or hurt women and children.” He grumbled and you stirred in your thoughts before asking more. 

“…Oh.” Is all you could say. He frowned deeply as he began rinsing out your hair. “So… why murder them? Why not report them?” 

“Tried that… cops don’t do shit.” He answered and you just nodded, noticing how he was getting more and more sour. “It… started with my mom. I just hate how these guys beat women and then get away with it.” He continued, and your heart strings were suddenly vibrating with empathy. 

“So why are you still keeping me here?” 

“There’s a few reasons. You know I’m a murderer, you’re being held in a small room in my house, and I hit you over the head with a fuckin’ pipe. I wasn’t expecting you to skip out of here, thanking me for the fun adventure, and promising not to call the fuckin police.” He retorted and you could understand that, which was alarming since you were agreeing with your captor and a murderer. “But the biggest reason is, you weren’t my original target.” Silence fell over you two once more, but this time, it was comfortable… not heavy, but comforting. There was understanding in the air as you thought for a second. You decided to ask the most logical question after being lost in your own head. 

“Who was your target?” 

His mouth closed to a scowl as he poured conditioner into his large palm and moved to rub it into your hair. When it was obvious he wasn’t answering, you sunk into the water a bit more and closed your eyes while you just enjoyed the way he massaged your scalp. 

You knew this was wrong for a thousand, million reasons. Or maybe one reason, but a big ass reason. 

He’s a fucking serial killer. 

But you couldn’t help it, for a weird reason. The way his forearms looked as they massage your scalp in the bathroom mirror made you want to bite them, to drag your fingertips across the tense, veiny skin. This man was doing things for you that you couldn’t have predicted. And for some reason, the fact that he didn’t mean to hurt you was a huge turn on, that he was targeting men who had previously hurt others or done terrible things. You ignored the fact that you might have Stockholm syndrome and directed your thoughts back to the way his biceps flexed in the fogged reflection. Maybe it was how the hot water made your brain hazy with seductive images of you under him, but the droplets on your skin dripped in a way that had you getting wet beneath the water. 

“Hello?” His voice made you jump a bit, the water sloshing up against the side of the tub and soaking his shirt. “Were you even listening?” 

“Yes, absolutely!” You lied, but he didn’t look convinced. His eyes canned your face and you knew that you looked flushed, so you did what anyone embarrassed of their thoughts would do and turned your face so he couldn’t see you. His hand held your cheeks squished between his fingers and turned you back for him to assess, and he didn’t seem pleased. 

“You’re overheating, let me add some cold water.” He announced and turned the faucet back on, letting you sink back into the depths of the tub and your own self-loathing for your lack of ability to conceal your mind. “Better?” He asked and you just nodded, not concerned with the water temperature. He watched you from the corner of his eyes and this made you nervous. You were being watched by a cold-blooded killer, and whether he killed the bad guys or not, it was still scary. He rinsed his hands and cleared his throat as you snapped out of your mental trance, looking up towards him as he stayed stone cold in his expression. “Since I don’t plan on untying you, I’m going to wash your body, but if you don’t want me to touch you, then I could use a loofah or something, like a towel- I didn’t really think this through.” He muttered and you just shook your head. 

“You can touch me.” You spoke softly and he nodded without any emotion, giving you no idea what he was thinking. He began by washing your back and scrubbing a bit, before moving to your arms and feeling you roll your neck to let him get to the nape and around your throat. He was surprised by how trusting you were being, but the truth was he didn’t feel dangerous to you, which was absolutely insane since he had killed people 10 feet away from where you were currently sitting. 

His hands began to wash your chest and before he moved any lower, he looked up at you. “This feels wrong, I’ll just-” 

“It feels good, actually.” You interrupted him and his eyebrows shot up in shock. “I mean-” You began to blush as you realized what had happened, but he smirked a bit before you could say anything else. 

“Would you like… if I made it feel even better?” He asked, his voice dropping a bit as he leaned closer to your burning face. You nodded slowly as his fingers brushed against the bottoms of your breasts, moving to graze your bare nipples and forcing a gasp from your lips. His thick digits twist the pert nubs and you let out a quiet sound like a small animal, giving into the predator in front of it. He keeps a cool demeanor as he teases your boobs and makes you squirm. “Still feel good?” 

“Yes…” you whispered and closed your eyes as his hand slipped under the water to massage the rest of your body, pushing his fingers gently through your folds and pressing directly onto your clit. You yelped in pleasure and shivered as he bent his head to your throat and kissed your pulse point behind your ear. r ear. His lips were soft and full on your skin as he pushed and toyed with the bundle of nerves in between his fingertips. The water splashed as you jerked a bit at the sudden sensations and he chuckled, pulling your soaked body up and throwing you over his shoulder once more. “Hey-!” You protested, but a slap to your bare ass shut you up, followed by a dark laugh. Miguel carried you into the room near where you slept and you saw a single king size bed with tall posts on all corners, being thrown to the center before he reached behind him with one hand and pulled his shirt off over his head. He took your bound hands and placed them on the bulge forming in his pants. It was almost as thick as your forearm and long as well. You blushed red before then meeting his eyes and seeing the shining cockiness reflected. You gulped down the tension between your thighs and looked at him through thick lashes as he stared down at your naked body. It was like he was analyzing you with malintent, the look on his face creating a dark shadow clouding over your morals and conscience. His large hand flattened on your abdomen as he kneeled before you and inhaled between your legs, his exhale leaving goosebumps against your exposed mound of flesh. He was clearly entertained by the prickle of your skin and immediately dove into you like a child on Christmas morning, licking heavily into your lips and lifting your asscheek on his shoulder. Your back arched almost so much it pained you as you jumped from the abrupt amount of sucking on your clit, a strained sound falling out of your mouth. You’d never heard that before, but then again, no one had literally sucked and licked the life out of you like this. 

He reached up a meaty hand and pinched at your nipple hard, twisting enough to make you scream and feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You felt his teeth graze against your sensitive peak and your eyes snapped onto where his mouth was currently on you, eliciting a chuckle from him as you shivered. 

“Yeah? You want me to hurt you a little?” He asked in a raspy whisper before slapping your breast a bit. You gasped loud and he smiled, his sharp canines gleaming a bit. 

Miguel moved to hover above you before rubbing his cock against your clit, the friction making you tense up a bit before he grabbed your throat. Your eyes found his, and he bent his head so his breath was warm against your ear. 

“I’m not going to play nice just because you’re a pretty little thing.” 

Without any other words, he shoved his dick in you and the burning stretch of his thickness made you let out a painful whine. The sound made his shiver as he jutted his hips into you even further, his cock nudging something so deep within you that tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He seemed to get even harder when he saw the small bits of pain he caused in you, and that made you hornier. The crazed look in his eyes made you flush and pant while he fucked you rough, practically making you dizzy from the jerky and harsh movements. He grunted as you felt the coil in your core begin to heat and tense, before it snapped and you instantly climaxed. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had as he smiled, like a predator enjoying the thrill of the hunt, and you gulped when he grabbed your waist before drilling back into you at a panickingly fast pace. Tears welled in your eyes from the pressure in your abdomen from his violent fucking, but the adrenaline made you begin to build towards another orgasm. This time was different, it was almost a burning feeling in your lower body and a surge as you swung your arms around his neck to help hold on. 

“Fuck, just like that, so fucking tight.” He mumbled, and you questioned if he was even speaking to you or just vocalizing his thoughts to himself, but you were distracted by the crash of the second climax and the sudden, very wet feeling on your stomach. A loud, pregnant growl made you shiver as his hips spasmed and rutted into your in a painful way, so deep you thought you may have hurt something, but you were enjoying this all too much to care at all, and he hovered over you for a moment while he caught his breath. 

“Holy shit, that was fucking great…” He whispered and leaned down before licking the wetness on your body to your breasts. “You are never leaving.” He smirked and you laid on your back, thinking about how you were completely fine with this.

[recklessmatt]

nsfw alphabet - m.s ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

matty boy is just the sweeeeetest and bestest at aftercare, he’ll make sure you’re doing okay, if you need any snacks or water, if you need a bath, if you need a massage, you name it he’s ready. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

matt LOVES your thighs omfg he loves it when they’re wrapped around his head while hes eating you out and he loves feeling them up when you’re sitting on his lap or even just sitting next to him at a restaurant

OH AND HES A TIDDY MAN !!! matt loves his hands, especially when they’re accesorized with rings and he notices you tend to stare at em a lot so he flexes them on purpose to get you riled up. he loves feeling you clench around them when hes fingering you mmmm

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

matt likes to cum in you or in your mouth mainly because it’ll be easy to clean up but im like 99% sure he has a breeding kink so the feeling of him cumming in you gets him so turned on

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he likes to be submissive. he loves when you take control and ride him until he cries he thinks its so hot 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i wanna say matt is experienced but not like pro level, probably like 2 bodies max, like he knows enough to get you going and he would probably do research on how to please you even more ngl and he would love to learn from you if you’re more experienced than he is

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary or the one where you guys are both on your sides like spooning, he loves looking in your eyes and he loves to hold you (and your boobies)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i think matt would take this more serious than goofy bc he sees it as sensual and intimate but he’ll definitely joke around with you afterwards. he would finish WHILE STILL INSIDE OF YOU then be like “wanna get ice cream” 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

matt i wanna say is nicely shaved, little to no hair because he wants to feel clean and put together

i don’t think matt cares what you do, he does prefer if you were groomed but then again he doesn’t care just do whatever the fuck you want he’s going down on you no matter what, he’s called matt the munch for a reason

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

matt is a soft dom so he is definitely romantic, but he also loves to get down and nasty and call you a slut at times but he loves praising you especially saying something like “you look so pretty, taking me so well baby” AHHHHH

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i don’t think matt jerks off as often now that he has you, but he definitely will at times hoping you will catch him so you can dick him down

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blindfolds, he loves seeing you squirm just by his touch not able to see and not knowing what will come next and he also loves to be blindfolded as well when you take control. it’s such a different feeling and it makes his orgasm feel so good

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the bedroom, it’s a safe spot and you know, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. BUT he also loves the car, he likes the risk of possibly getting caught and because it’s a small space you guys are really close to each other

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

overstimulation and whining, he loves seeing you try to grab him and push him away when it gets too much for you, he loves to hear you whine and cry for him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

pegging and threesomes. he doesn’t like to share you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

OH THIS MAN LOVESSS TO GIVE YOU HEAD !!! he does it for his pleasure and ofc yours but the feeling of you trying to push his head away from sensitivity makes him want to keep going and he loves fingering you while sucking on your clit but he’ll never deny receiving from you, just don’t expect him to be quiet because babygirl he’s gonna be whining and groaning so loud

mattthemunchmattthemunchmattthemunchmattthemunchmattthemunch

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

honestly it depends on the day, but matt is so sweet he loves the intimacy and the feeling of going slow and deep and he wants to take his time with you but he’ll definitely have his rough sex moments

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

matt prefers to take his time with you but he’ll never deny a quickie when you’re both feeling it

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i think matt is open to about anything to a certain extent, he likes to experiment and he lowkey likes the risk of getting caught

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

mmm i wanna say 2-3 rounds average, but if he’s looking to overstimulate you, probably 8 rounds. he has a lot of stamina idk why

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t own any himself because he has you but if you were to own a vibrator he’d want you to try it on him. or if you had a dildo he’d probably use it to fuck you as a tease like does this fuck you better than i do baby?”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

matt lovessss to tease you. he loves to see you begging for more

he won’t admit it but he does like when you tease him in public 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

matt is more of a groaner and whimperer tbh, he doesn’t dirty talk a whole lot but when he does, oh man you are GONE. he’s so good at dirty talk omg

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

hockey player matt! (like duhhh)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

hmmm, i’d say matt is pretty average just a little bigger, he fills you up perfectly, all snug in there, it turns him on to see his bulge through your stomach while he’s fucking you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i don’t think he’s THAT horny but he’s just always down to fuck

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

matt would wait until you fall asleep first so he knows you’re doing okay, he would rub your back or pet your hair to make you sleepy and comfortable. it’s rare when he falls asleep before you.

CHRIS VERSION

author's note: hola i made a matt version, i have nothing else to say, goodbye stay sexy mwah <3 HAPPY 1K TO RECKLESSMATT AHHHHHH GRATEFUL FOR ALL YOU SEXIES !!!

taglist: @luverboychris @mattscoquette @strmbolisworld @nmegamett20 @sturniclo

@shadowthesim @surniolozzzprincess @sturnsintrouble @sturniolo-slvt @mattandchrismakemewett

@stonermattsgf @zivall @sturniolo-fann @gvf23

@thecynthh @jayz4dayz4 @beccaluvschris @cindylcuwho @sturngirly

@sturnslcver @nyktoxs-lover @simplysturn

@jnkvivi @sturncakez

@sturnzsblog @joemamaaa42069 @sarosfilms @il0vecatzzz

@freyaxoxoxo @loliek17372 @slutforsturniolos

[meanbossart]

How does post-tadpole DU drow feel about his past self? Does he even see himself as the same guy, or is it more "that was another person"? I love how all of us get to interpret how the amnesia affects Durge's sense of identity and I'm curious how the drow in the present feels about this past version of him once he has full context. Does he fear accountability for what the Old Him did or does it not really cross his mind? How do his friends deal with the revelation that Gortash drops on them at the coronation (re: you used to be Bhaal's Chosen).

This is a great question!

He definitely divorces himself entirely from the person he used to be, and you could say he's right to do so. The man DU drow was between becoming Bhaal's chosen and being betrayed was a very specific, tailored persona - He was boisterous, he was loud, he was talkative, he concerned himself with how his hair looked, how his clothes fit and how they were made, he liked to be noticed for his achievements and he was a proud and self-titled extension of Bhaal's body who denied himself individuality to the point of abstaining from ever being named.

If Gortash, or anyone else, happened to disclose even a third of this and his prior life to him, DU drow must have scoffed in their face and understandably come to the conclusion that it weren't only his memories that had been wiped - his whole personality had.

He doesn't care about vanity! Except for his body and build, but that's because he needs to stay in shape to survive out there, of course. He's not loud or demanding - well, except when he has to be to get what he wants. And of course, he's his own man now - whoever that man might be - with a stubbornly strong sense of individuality and bound only to his own whims - which just so happen to be to fulfill Astarion's every desire (or what he assumes his desires to be).

Then there's the teenager who arrived at the temple. Quiet, distrusting, borderline feral with a desperate need for comfort and companionship that he had no understanding of. The kind of person that he would have later laughed at as the Chosen for being primitive and clueless.

It's honestly very funny how he has grown to be a perfect mixture of those two individuals and has fooled himself into thinking he is a brand new being instead. He thinks he is not to be accounted for for any of his previous actions or life choices - not even in a "I didn't know any better" type of way; literally it's as if they weren't his doing at all. He sleeps great at night, besides the nightmares.

As far for how the others reacted, I think Shadowheart feels surprisingly similar about it. Whoever he once was, he isn't anymore - and he has kept whatever this thing is under control enough not to gut them, night after night, so clearly he is trying to fight it. Having no memories of the past herself helps, as well as having disavowed her own previous identity - not only in sympathizing with him but also in the sense that she doesn't recall whatever havoc the bhaalists spread across the Sword Coast prior.

Astarion feels like Astarion feels. His reactions as a romanced companion felt very sufficient and fleshed out to me. He's known something has been wrong from the start, he has nearly fallen victim to it himself and watched DU drow trash and struggle with it while gagged and bound. Things simply fell into place after the revelation and while it was more than he had bargained for, he had gotten into the water with both feet at that point. He probably proceeded to go home and weight his options ("PROS AND CONS OF DATING A MURDER PRINCE - PRO: FAMILY RICHES AND POLITICAL INFLUENCE? - CON: MIGHT MURDER ME REAL BAD) but he would have stuck to DU drow's side whatever he chose to do and made the best out of it.

And of course, he understands what it is like to do bad things against your will. He also understands that that doesn't really apply to DU drow.

Gale! Ohhh Gale. I think given the experience Gale had had thus far (being antagonized, mocked, made to beg for donations that would keep him from exploding like an egg in a microwave, having his heart lightly broken for a second time) he was in self preservation mode - express the due shock, then say it's fine, and that he'll get through it (you do not believe he will) play along until you can get the crown and then whatever happens, it simply won't matter anymore to you.

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[greatstormcat]

Welcome to Silent Hill - Part 2

TF141 x gn!reader

Series masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, canon typical violence, canon typical horror, threat, body horror, injury detail, mental instability, memory loss

Nothing changes for a while as you walk with the four soldiers down the mainstreet of the place called Silent Hill. A seemingly endless row of dark and empty shop fronts, bars and buildings lining either side of the road, shrouded in the creeping, dense fog. Nothing moves apart from the five of you, and thankfully no radio static begins as you crane your ears for sound that would warn of approaching… things.

Soap, the mohawked man, walks ahead of the group at Price’s order, seemingly to keep an eye out for anything strange. Well, you think to yourself, even stranger than what’s already going on. The baseline for what is weird in your life has been shifted dramatically.

“Cap,” Soap suddenly says, low and urgent, “there’s something in the road up ahead.”

The group slows, weapons raised and they move you to the middle without any apparent discussion about it. You almost don’t notice the way you go from walking beside Ghost, to suddenly being encased in a circle of tall, broad bodies, barely able to see past them.

“That’s… unusual,” Gaz says with consternation. You peer around his shoulder trying to see what’s going on, but fail as Price closes the gap.

“Bloody hell,” Price mutters, “is there anyway around it?”

Eventually they separate and you see the problem. A huge crack in the ground cuts clean across the road ahead, as wide as a football pitch.

“It carries on as far as I can see either side,” Gaz calls back to Price as he peers around the severed edge of a building at the side of the street.

“Was there an earthquake?” you muse, peering down into the yawning chasm that cuts neatly across the street. It’s deep, the bottom swallowed by darkness.

“Can’t have been,” Gaz replies, “otherwise we’d see damage to all the other buildings. A quake big enough to cause that sized crack would have flattened the whole town.”

A stone skitters over the edge and sails down into the darkness below, sent by the toe of Soap’s boot. Your eyes follow the stone’s downward fall, a strange pulling sensation making you lean forward as it goes.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” he mutters, listening for a landing that never happens. “That’s a long way down.”

Your eyes water as you feel yourself being tugging gently closer into the beckoning darkness, your muscles obeying some unheard call, willing you to move to the edge and lean over just a bit more….

“Whoa, careful,” Soap laughs, grabbing your arm and jerking you back suddenly. “That’s certain death down there, gotta be more careful.” His blue eyes bore into yours, a wrinkle at the corners of them as he frowns at your carelessness.

“Right,” Price calls firmly, ringing everyone back into focus. “We make our way around this, the road past the hospital is our next best option.”

You follow along, confused by your actions, and feeling the slightest of tug in the middle of your chest. As though a fine thread were attached to you, pulling you back towards that wide open, hungry chasm. A nudge against your arm jolts you from your thoughts.

“You solid?” Ghost asks quietly, his unreadable eyes looking down at you from behind his mask.

“Yeah, yeah I just feel… felt… odd back there,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid are you?” he continues, blunt as a kick in the teeth, and you can’t help but smirk. Anyone else probably would have been a lot more gentle asking something like that, but not him it seems.

“No, I’m not planning anything drastic,” you assure him. “I think this place is just getting to me. I feel like something is watching me, its fucking creepy.”

“You’re not wrong, this place is… I don’t know what. Just keep close, and don’t let it get to you,” he tells you, walking a little closer beside you. The brush of his sleeves against your arm is a comfort you didn’t know you needed and you continue to walk close beside him. For a while you simply keep pace, conversation dried up with the increasingly sense of wariness

Twice more your path is interrupted by impossible chasms gouging the earth and tearing wounds into the ground.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re being funnelled somewhere?” Price mutters as a third chasm turns you from your path. Frustration drips from his words.

“It feels like the whole town has been sliced off from the world,” you agree, not wanting to mention the tugging feeling behind your eyes everytime you see one of the pits in front of you. “Between the fog and these cracks, it’s like we are even in the real world anymore.”

“What I’d give for a working radio and Nik right now,” he grunts and glances at his watch. “Keep moving, we’ve got more ground to cover before it gets dark, and I’m not risking being exposed when night falls.”

“What do you think will happen at night?” you ask him, heart thudding as you begin trailing after the bearded Captain once again.

“I don’t know and honestly, don’t want to know. This place is not normal,” he answers cryptically. He chews on a cigar, a habit you noticed he does when his frustration rises.

The noise starts low, barely noticeable over the sound of boots on the road, but it creeps higher and higher until the buzzing vibrates the hairs on your skin. A large building looms out of the fog, the sign over the door reading Brookhaven Hospital in dull, red letters.

“Shit, we’ve got company,” Gaz hisses, grabbing at the radio on his chest to try to turn down the hissing, buzzing noise that signals an approaching nightmare.

“You,” Ghost snaps, grabbing your arm firmly, “down.” He pushes you firmly down behind an abandoned car and stands over you, his legs caging you against the door of the vehicle. You can’t see what’s happening.

“Bloody hell, how many are there?” Gaz whispers.

“I count eight,” Soap answers in a tense whisper, waiting for Price’s order.

“We’ve got limited ammo and no resupply, don’t engage,” Price announces, “we go around them.”

“Price, this door isn’t locked,” Soap calls, the door to the hospital entrance held open in his hand as you peer between Ghost’s legs.

“Move inside, we’ll cut through the hospital and conserve ammo,” Price whispers. Ghost grabs your bicep and drags you with him as they move to the large door of the building and inside. The radios stop making their pained crackling as soon as the door clicks closed behind your small group. The inside of the hospital is much as you’d expect, empty and echoing, uncomfortable and deserted.

The entrance foyer contains the expected rows of seats, a few knocked over and abandoned on their backs. Potted plants sit in pots looking limp and sickly, and the large reception desk sits empty, files scattered on and around it. The feeling of wrongness that permeated the air outside feels markedly more noticeable here, and you swallow down rising bile.

“I don’t think we should be in here,” you say quietly, but no one pays you any attention as they scan the room and check doorways. The walls are painted in a pale green, with dark grey tiles covering the floors. Fluorescent lights flicker on the ceilings, casting a sickly light worryingly similar to that outside in the fog.

“Clear!” You hear them call to each other, until they are satisfied it’s safe. Or as safe as can be.

“Could look for some supplies while we head through to the another exit,” Ghost suggests. “Place like this will have multiple exit points.”

“Good plan,” Price agrees, patting the large man firmly before nodding to Soap to take the lead again. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you hiss at Ghost, getting as close to him as you can without risking tripping him up.

“It’s all we’ve got right now,” he replies grimly, “sometimes you have to pick the better of two evils and go with it.”

“Is that what you guys do? Pick the less terrible option?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs, never looking at you as you follow Soap’s lead through the pale corridors lined with medical equipment and empty gurneys and wheelchairs. “It’s what soldiers do in the field.”

“Sounds like a hard life, having to make decisions like that,” you muse, glad to have someone to talk to.

“Humph,” he grunts noncommittally, “you learn to live with it. You don’t get much choice if you want to get the job done.”

“It must leave you with lots of bad memories,” you hear yourself say, but those aren’t your words, you don’t know where they come from. You glance at Ghost and see his eyes boring into you, sharp and cold suddenly at your callous comment.

“Where are you going with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” you stammer and look away from him quickly. Thankfully he lets the conversation drop, and you stay quiet.

“Shouldn’t we have found an exit by now? How big is this place,” Gaz observes after another ten minutes of endless corridors.

“We’ve been going north the whole time, let’s bust a window open and,” Soap begins to say more but stops suddenly, brining the whole group to a stop by raising his arm.

A siren wails, ripping through the still air like a saw blade, making your entire body lurch in panic. The four men tense, weapons raised and eyes scanning the area. Somehow you feel better seeing them react, as for a moment it felt like the noise was inside your skull rather than outside it.

“Is that an air raid siren?” Gaz puzzles. “There’s no way anything’s flying in that mess out there.”

“I dinnae like… wait… what the fuck?” Soap begins to answer him but stops mid sentence, peering at a section of the wall near him. As the siren screams its mournful call, the pale paint on the walls around you begins to peel and curl as if with advanced age. With a lump in your throat you watch as the little clumps fall away from the wall upwards in defiance of logic and gravity, even the flooring crumbles and dissolves, uncovering a dark, rusted metal grate beneath.

The weak lights gutter, the windows becoming grime encrusted and impotent, smothering the disturbing scene in a choking darkness despite the time of day outside.

“What’s happening? Why is everything changing?” you whimper, tears making the unnatural scene waiver even more as the soldiers switch on torches attached to the vests and weapons. The siren drones on, forcing you to press your palms over your ears, but just as you feared, the dreadful call isn’t muffled in the slightest. It’s inside your skull but everyone is hearing it. You drop your hands rather than face the reality of this unreality.

“This isn’t in the field manual,” Ghost mutters behind his mask, shifting his shoulder slightly as though readying himself for something in the dark. Rusted metal grates and sheets or rusted corrugated steel have replaced the faded hospital corridor, the abandoned wheelchairs somehow twisted into sinister shapes, almost organic and pained in appearance now under the torch beams. Unhealthy looking globs of organic material cling to the metal in places, and you try not to look at it too long, in case it begins to move while you watch.

“Fuck this. We don’t need the additional risk,” Price announces, voice eerily calm given the situation. “Forget the supplies, we fall back.”

The others give a chorus of agreement and begin to head back down the corridor. At the back of your mind something begins to whisper and pull at you again like it did in the street, telling you that going back is no good. It only spurs you on more quickly until you walk into Soap’s back.

“How is that possible?” Soap growls. The set of double doors you had passed through a few moments earlier is now a solid wall, your exit cut off. The siren abruptly stops at this point, and the pounding of far off machinery can be heard thrumming through the decaying metal. It’s almost as though a heart is beating, perhaps what is creating the creeping tendrils that twist around the metalwork around you.

“Looks like we keep pushing forward then,” Price says, more quietly this time, and the way he exchanges a look with Ghost isn’t lost on you. There’s a note of concern to it, and it leaches into you, taking hold and feeding your fear. “I don’t like it any more than the rest of you but we’re not just going to sit around here without thumbs up our arses waiting for whatever is doing this to come find us. We move.”

Thank you for reading! If you want to see more please reblog or leave a comment to show your appreciation, I also have Ko-Fi.

There is no taglist, you'll need to follow for updates.

[mechaknight-98]

Road Trip (NSFW) FT Nayeon and Tzuyu

Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a short little 1500 word jaunt but no my brain made it 7500. No matter. It was a fun ride (Pun intended. Not currently sure what the rest of the release schedule is going to be right now, but there will probably something smaller maybe two however enjoy this special holiday release.

 Driving from Anaheim, California to Houston, Texas is the worst. It’s not the most terrible thing I’ve ever had to do, but it’s in the top 20. Still, it was worth it. I was going to see my favorite K-pop group, Twice, and I would fly back after dropping off the rental. "Take photos," my dad convinced me. So, here I was, driving thousands of miles.

During one of my photo ops stops, I noticed a broken down van, smoke billowing from the engine. Three people were standing outside of it. I sucked my teeth.

“Sucks to be them,” I thought. As I passed, something told me to stop. I didn’t want to, but I did so against my better judgment. I stopped and walked over to them.

“Hey, do y'all need help?” I called out.

A feminine, accented voice responded, “Oh God, yes!” As I neared, I recognized two of the three faces. It was the matnae and maknae of Twice.

“Ehh, Nayeon and Tzuyu?” I said, bewildered.

“Ehh?” Nayeon replied, “You know us?” She added, and I nodded. Tzuyu laughed.

“Good, so no intros needed. You asked if you could help us. Can you drive us to the hotel?”

Tzuyu ran up to me and hugged me tightly, her eyes holding the cutest puppy dog pout. I sighed, resigned to my fate, and said, “Sure, let’s grab your stuff and go.” That’s when you approached.

“Thank you so much,” you said. “I’ll make sure the company pays you back for this.” I shrugged at your words, but you insisted. We loaded everything into the car and raced off to the hotel (metaphorically, of course). On the ride there, it was Tzuyu and me in the front, with Nayeon and you in the back.

“So, what’s your name?” Tzuyu asked with a hint of flirtiness.

“DJ, and you… don’t answer that. I already know… sorry, muscle memory.” I replied. Tzuyu laughed at my gaffe, as did Nayeon. You, of course, got it. They’re stars while you and I are seemingly normal.

“So, who is your bias?” Nayeon inevitably asked.

“That’s a setup… but I’m stupid, so Tzuyu,” I replied confidently.

Nayeon laughed and scoffed, then looked at you with a “Can you believe him?” look.

“Oh, so I’m your favorite,” Tzuyu acknowledged. I nodded, then turned on the Bluetooth for the radio. Tzuyu began to rock out to my heavy playlist as it started.

“Ugh,” Nayeon scoffed.

“I can play other stuff. I take non-country requests,” I replied. You laughed at my response, as you had been catering to the diva for the past few days. Conversely, the maknae piped up,

“No, I like this music. Especially this band. Chaeyoung introduced me to them.”

“Wait! Really? Chaeyoung introduced you to Architects, Tzuyu?” I asked, intrigued.

Tzuyu nodded before saying, “But please call me Chewy.” I gave her a thumbs-up as I continued driving. As we landed in New Mexico, I decided to get some photo ops at the Area 51 museum. Before stopping, I apologized to the rest of the passengers.

“Sorry, just wanted to get some pictures,” I explained. You and the girls nodded as I got out. Nayeon, being her sexy but conceited self, asked me to take some pictures at a nearby station. I obliged, and she posed.

“Be sure to send me those later because I look sexy,” she said confidently. I nodded as Nayeon went back to you. Meanwhile, Chewy politely asked me to take some pictures of her, which I happily obliged.

Her photos bordered more on the cute side, but when she wasn’t taking photos, she made some quite suggestive and flirty comments.

For example, when I showed her one taken with a silly hat on, she said, “Oh, that’s so nice. You make me glow, but can you make me squirm and scream?” Her tone was hushed enough so only I could hear her. I turned to her, and she just gave an innocent smile as if she wasn’t spouting filth.

I chuckled, which she mirrored as we talked.

“So, DJ, are you a professional photographer?” Chewy asked politely.

“Nope, working on getting there though,” I replied.

Chewy nodded before asking another question, “What’s stopping you?”

I laughed and partially joked, “Mostly money and experience. Once I have those, I’ll be there.” Chewy laughed and said,

“Well, I think you’re pretty good.”

While we were talking, Nayeon scoffed, “Chewy is swooning.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Can’t you tell? She’s been extra doe-eyed with him. She’s going to eat him alive, but that’s just her. She always goes for the kind and naive ones.”

“Hey, you used to be like that too, if memory serves correctly,” you countered.

“We were in high school, and I didn’t know any better,” Nayeon rebuked, and you laughed.

“Let Chewy have her moment. He seems nice.”

“That’s the problem,” Nayeon scoffed. While no one was looking, though, she leaned in and sneaked a kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you for ‘being my manager’ for this tour. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have,” Nayeon admitted. You smiled at her words before saying,

“You’re welcome, Nabong.” Nayeon’s lips curled upwards in a mischievous grin.

“I think I may need one of your full-body massages,” Nayeon said, emphasizing the word “massage,” letting you know what she meant. You smirked and said,

“Anything for my favorite bunny.”

After taking pictures, I continue the drive to the hotel. Conveniently, we're all staying at the same place.

You, Nayeon, and Tzuyu check in while I search for parking. When I finally enter, I try to be discreet.

"Um, one room for Dracul Bram?" I ask in a low tone. The hostess looks at my ID, then up at me with a confused but amused grin.

"Room 104," she says, "behind the check-in station and around the corner." I give her a thumbs-up and head towards my room.

I would have made it if not for someone behind me calling out, "DJ, where are you going?" I turn to see Chewy waving me over. She’s at the bar with you, Sana, another manager, and Nayeon. Resigned, I join you all.

As I approach, Sana laughs and says, "Oh wow, you’re so tall." I shrug, while you notice Chewy glaring at Sana. You chuckle internally, recognizing that Chewy is interested in me. Nayeon shoots you a knowing look, also noticing Chewy's reaction.

When I sit down, Sana quickly starts her flirty "interview."

"So, DJ, I hear you're quite the photographer?" Sana purrs.

"Um, still an amateur. I lack the funds and experience to be considered 'professional,'" I reply. Sana smirks.

"So why don't we help you get more experience? How would you feel about being my photographer for the concert in Houston?" My mind stalls as I try to process her proposal. The air grows thick, and while I'm dumbfounded, Tzuyu glares at her unnie. You and Nayeon laugh, recognizing the game Sana is playing. Chewy, completely unaware, takes the bait.

"But unnie, I thought you liked Mark a lot more. Maybe you should take him, and I'll take DJ?" Chewy proposes.

"Game, set, match," Nayeon whispers in your ear.

Sana smiles and replies to Chewy, "I don't know. You said DJ takes really good pictures, and I haven't seen them yet..." Before Sana can finish, Chewy quickly says,

"Fine... I'll take the room with Dahyun," Chewy sighs.

"Deal," Sana quickly agrees with a smile. I'm still reeling from the initial proposal as this deal unfolds around me.

Before I can fully process what just happened, the bartender approaches, asking for our drink orders. Chewy, still flustered from her exchange with Sana, quickly orders a soda. Nayeon orders a cocktail, and Sana, with a smirk, opts for something stronger. You and I both go for something simple, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire interactions around us.

"DJ, how did you end up driving from California?" Nayeon asks, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

"Well, I wanted to see you guys perform and take some photos along the way. My dad thought it would be a good idea," I explain, feeling slightly more comfortable now that the conversation has shifted to neutral territory.

Chewy brightens at this. "So, you like road trips and photography? That's a fun combination."

"Yeah, it's been an adventure," I admit, smiling at her enthusiasm. "And now, unexpectedly, I'm here with you all."

Sana, not one to let the spotlight shift too far, interjects, "Well, it's lucky for us that you stopped to help. Nayeon and Chewy would have  been stranded otherwise." Her tone is light, but there's a genuine appreciation beneath it.

"Definitely," you agree, raising your glass in a toast. "To unexpected adventures."

Everyone raises their glasses, and the mood relaxes further. As we chat, Nayeon nudges you and whispers something in your ear, causing both of you to laugh. 

Chewy, noticing this, leans in closer to me. "So, DJ, tell me more about your photography. What kind of subjects do you like to shoot?"

I start to answer, but I'm interrupted by a sudden buzz from Nayeon's phone. She glances at it and then groans. "It's our manager. He needs us for a quick meeting."

Sana rolls her eyes but stands up. "Duty calls. DJ, it was nice meeting you. Don't forget about our deal."

Chewy stands up reluctantly, giving me a small, shy smile. "I'll see you later, DJ."

As they head off, you stay behind for a moment. "You handled that well," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the world of K-pop chaos."

I laugh, feeling more at ease. "Thanks. I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"You'll be fine," you assure me. "Just keep being yourself. They seem to like you already."

With that, you head off to join the others, leaving me at the bar to reflect on the whirlwind of the evening. As I sit there, I can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about what the next few days will bring.

I decide to pay the tab before finishing my drink and heading to my room. I upload the picture to my tablet before sending the photos to Chewy and Nayeon. While going over them one of the pictures of Chewy stands out. I send it to my phone and make it my wallpaper while keeping my home screen something more nerdy. After that, I decided it was for the best if I went to sleep for the night. 

After I finally got comfortable and passed out you and the rest of the girls get out of your meeting. Nayeon Dramatically absconds with you to her room while Chewy checks her phone she notices my pictures. She smiles and sends me a cute little message. She is a little sad when I don't respond. She also decided to turn early.

You on the other enter your room hand in hand with Nayeon. She beams at you ready for her “massage”. She begins to strip for you and your smile grows wide.

“You always look like a kid in a candy store,”

You smile then reply, “With how hot you are can you blame me?” Nayeon grins and looks at you happily.

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this,” she lies on the bed and spreads her long legs. You marvel at her thick thighs and buoyant ass. Nayeon beams as you stare at her “Well come on fuck me,” she says with an arrogant smile that drives you wild wild. You strip to her as she does her “sexy” shimmy she does whenever she's feeling herself. You line yourself up with her entrance. You rub her clit and pussy with your rod as she patiently waits. After a few minutes of teasing, she jams you inside her.

“Oh yes,” she moans as you bottom out in her. Her tightness takes your breath away as you wait for her to stop clenching you. When her body finally acclimated you begin to thrust in and out of her. She moans uncontrollably as you begin to thrust harder and harder.

“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she moans deliriously from the pleasure. You groan as you feel her tighten before she climaxes. You watch as her body arches back and her slick floods out of her. As she covers you cock and crotch in her cum you keep fucking her until you reach your high. You flood her with semen as you reach your orgasm. As the two of you come down from your mutual high you gaze at the clock.

“Shit! We can't do anymore because we have to get up early tomorrow,” you say stressed Nayeon nods before and the both of you pass out. 

I wake up early the next morning, shower, get changed, and get ready for the day. When I walk out, you, Sana, the other manager from last night, and Chewy are all waiting for me.

“Oh good, we didn't miss you. Congratulations, you've been selected to drive in Twice’s caravan,” you say to me.

I blink a couple of times before saying, “Huh?”

Chewy laughs and responds, “We are still missing one van, so we figured since we are all going to the same place, you could help us out again.” I process the information slowly.

Confused, I look at the group and realize that I’ve been temporarily enlisted into Twice’s caravan. Today, I’ll be driving the manager (Sam), Sana, and Chewy. I blink a few times but relent, “You all know I'm flying back, right?” I ask, concerned.

You nod and say, “As are we.”

I shrug and say, “Well, okay then.”

You clap your hands together. “Good, see you at the next hotel in Houston.” I nod quietly as I pack up. The girls and Sam follow me to the car. As we load up, Sana asks, “Hey DJ, you're big and strong. Can you help me with my bags?” I nod and lift her bags into the trunk. Sana smiles and caresses my arms.

“I knew you could do it,” she says seductively. I nod as Sana goes to sit. Chewy walks close to me, and instinctively I load up her bags. Chewy smiles, and we get ready to go. She takes her seat in the front with me. As I check to see if everyone is buckled, Sana flashes me a flirty smile. Once everyone is secure, I start driving.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Chewy asks me what music she should put on. I catch myself before saying, “Put on Lorgar’s audiobook.” Instead, I suggest she put on the Whiplash playlist. She does so and is surprised when "Perfect World" by Twice is the first song. I catch the smiles aimed at me, then the confused look when the second song, "Backbreaker" by Fit For a King, comes on. Initially, my passengers are confused, but as they listen to more of the playlist, they start vibing with me.

After about six hours of driving, we make our first stop at a gas station. I take a few pictures of the desert and plains, which Sana sneaks her way into. When I finish, she gets close to me and says, “Oh, you're really good.” I thank her for the compliment, while also noticing Chewy sitting a little way off with a forlorn but cute pose. I snap a few photos before going into the convenience store section of the gas station and grabbing her a snack. When I walk out toward her, I sit next to her and hand her the snack. She looks at me and pouts, “I can't eat that. It will go straight to my thighs.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be bad? You have the sexiest thighs,” I say. Tzuyu giggles.

“You're just saying that,” she responds. I shake my head, resisting the impulse to pull her closer.

“You are super pretty, and I think one honey bun won't be the end of the world. Fifteen in two hours, though…that might be a problem,” I joke. Tzuyu smiles and leans on my shoulder.

Sana and Sam watch from a distance.

“Oh, she's got him,” Sam says with a laugh. Sana nods with a pout.

“He just looks so cuddly,” Sana laments.

“Yeah, I get that, but you get all the attention. Let Chewy have this one,” Sam replies.

Sana pouts again. “Okay.”

When we all get back into the car The next song up is "In the Mouth of Madness" by Nightmares. Chewy digs this one and asks about their other albums. I wince when I have to tell her this is the only one. She frowns but is understanding. After that "Cheer Up" comes on which garners a few more smiles.

When we all get back into the car, the next song up is "In the Mouth of Madness" by Nightmares. Chewy enjoys it and asks about their other albums. I wince as I tell her this is their only one. She frowns but understands. After that, "Cheer Up" comes on, garnering a few more smiles.

"You like us," Chewy says.

I nod and reply, "Well, yeah. If it weren't for you all, I wouldn't have gotten through the pandemic. I was alone and isolated for most of it, and you nine got me through by being this giant pastel pink sign saying, 'Things will get better!' So I fought on." Chewy smiles warmly.

Sam hears this and says, "The little Once that could." I chuckle along with the rest of the car.

After a few more hours, we arrive at the last hotel. Curiously, we are the first to arrive, beating out the rest of the vans. Cameras and flashes surround the car as we step out. Momentarily blinded, I grab Sana's and Chewy's bags and help them check-in. When I go to check into my hotel, Sam stops me.

"We got you a room," he says. I nod and gratefully take the room key as we head to the elevator.

"Chewy likes you," he says out of the blue.

"What? No," I scoff.

Sam's eyes narrow. "Yes, she does. I have never seen her this engaged with someone, especially someone outside of Twice."

"She's just being nice," I say, still in disbelief.

Sam rolls his eyes as we exit the elevator. "You say that, but she loves the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing. She eats it up, and you being the bashful knight type—she's going to eat you alive."

"You make it sound like she's a maneater," I respond, confused.

Sam grins wickedly before entering his room. "She is, but she has picky tastes. Anyway, be careful—or not."

Left alone with a lot to process, I lie down and think about the day.

"Do I like Chewy back?" I ponder. 

"If I do, am I willing to give up my anonymity to be with her?"

My thoughts halt when I get a DM from Chewy saying, "Hey, can you come to my room? I need help ordering food." Without hesitation, I go. My heart had already chosen for me. When I get to her room, she’s in shorts and a crop top with a giant heart shape on it. She smiles at me.

"That was fast," she teases.

I smile and say, "Well, anything for royalty, I guess." She looks confused.

"Your song, 'Queen of Hearts,' and your shirt," I explain. Chewy looks down and laughs.

"Okay, I thought that was your first humor miss."

"I am always missing," I reply. Chewy smiles and pats the bed next to her. I walk and lie down next to her. She nestles closer as I help her order room service, wrapping herself around me tightly.

A knock on the door interrupts us. I go to open it, and Dahyun, Sana, Nayeon, and Jihyo arrive, along with you, Sam, and another manager, this one female.

"So, you're the Machine God I’ve been hearing so much about. The name's Sara," the female manager says, amused.

I look at her, confused.

Sara rolls her eyes as she says, "Oh, don't give me that puzzled look. You drove here straight without any breaks except a couple of stops for gas."

I nod, understanding now, as I walk back to the bed with Chewy. When I sit back down, you and Nayeon notice how Chewy moves her legs onto my lap.

"Oh, someone is staking her claim," you whisper calmly.

Nayeon whispers back, "I wonder how long until she drops the shyness and he sees her true self."

"Oh, it'll happen before we head back. I can see it in her eyes. She wants him badly, and she's barely containing herself. We probably delayed it tonight."

"What was that?" Sara asked, catching your whispered conversation with Nayeon.

"Oh, nothing, just discussing what we should order for room service after we leave," you reply quickly.

Sara isn't convinced. "Right," she says sarcastically, before turning to me.

"So, DJ, what does DJ stand for?"

Expecting this question, I sigh. "Promise not to laugh?" Everyone looks at me, puzzled but nods.

"My name is Dracul Marcus Bram Jr., but my family calls me DJ," I say. The room falls silent before Sara responds.

"Okay, I see why you prefer DJ, but I think Dracul is pretty badass." I give a thumbs up and try to blend back into the group dynamics. The doorbell rings, and Chewy jumps up excitedly. "I'll get it, Drac," she says, kissing me on the cheek. My mind blanks for a moment. I sit there, stunned, as Chewy fetches the food and returns. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she smiles.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

Still processing, I hear Sam laughing. When I finally regain my composure, I feel an unexpected calm and confidence.

"I just didn't expect that," I reply. Everyone hears the newfound steadiness in my voice and is taken aback. Usually, when Tzuyu shows her real self to someone she likes, they become more timid. This is the first time anyone has taken her advances in stride.

Tzuyu feels a shift inside herself. In her mind, I transform from "Cute Teddy Bear" to "I want this man to father my children," though only for a moment before settling on "Datable Material."

The silence grows uncomfortable, so I say, "The food looks good, Chewy. We should eat before it gets cold." For the first time, Chewy is the one flustered. She giggles and smiles, bringing the food over. She got a burger, and I got a quesadilla—though it might have been called something else, it had all the ingredients.

Tzuyu and I eat comfortably while the others watch. You notice a change in our body language. We're no longer timidly stealing glances or shyly flirting. Chewy gives me ravenous looks, and I reciprocate with calm, measured passion. If you were more observant, you would have noticed our touches growing more frequent until we were holding hands.

The atmosphere between us shifts. Instead of a bashful princess and her shy knight, we exude the air of two confident equals—me, the composed diplomat, and her, the assertive Empress. Her eyes say she wants to devour me, and I feel the same urge. Yet, with an audience, the battle must wait. We're so engrossed in our little world that we don't notice the others leaving until the door closes and Dahyun says, “Goodbye.” We wave politely, but as soon as the door closes, Chewy grabs me and pulls me in for an emotional, sloppy kiss.

I love it and let her take the lead this time. She broke the kiss. She was frantic, “should I go fast? Should I savor you and make a mess of you?” Tzuyu said as her mind raced. 

I smirked and calmly replied, “It's not a race,” 

Tzuyu gave me the sexiest and most ferocious glare before she said “I am going to drain every single last drop of cum from you and make you scream my name all night,” I surrender to her fervor this time as she brings me in for another kiss. I guess savage maknae wasn't a cute nickname. Her kisses were messy but also extremely hot. She was vicious but she knew what she wanted and I was going to let her have it. 

While she kissed me I felt her hand slip into my sweatpants. I feel her hand reach my rod and she begins to slowly stroke.

She breaks the kiss and stares at me luridly. 

“Ah Tzuyu,” I moan out. Tzuyu smiles

“Whose cock is this?” she asks innocently

“Yours,” I moan she nods happily. 

“Good. Now I'm going to suck my cock and you're going to paint my face. Can you do that for me?” she asks hungrily. I nod as she pushes my sweatpants down and moves to my cock. She continues her glacial pace that I both hate and love. She looks up at me her gaze is ferocious as she devours me. Drool pools around my shaft as sloppily engorged herself. She comes up for air and resumes stroking me.

“Do you like it?” she asks innocently. I nod helplessly. She goes to my frenulum and teases it with her tongue. I moan her name again. She smiles and goes back down on me. I try to hang on but everything about what she's doing to me has me on edge. I tilt her face up bring her lips back to mine and kiss her. Her eyes are wide the entire time with surprise but she happily accepts the kiss. When we break it she smiles. 

“I appreciate your adoration,” she says before slapping me,

“But tonight I'm in control,” she says firmly I nod.

“I'll let that transgression slide because you're so cute, but next time I won't be so forgiving,” I nod and feel my cock twitch in her hand. She notices 

“Are you close babe?” she asks sweetly. I nod and she does everything in her power to get the largest load possible. 

“Oh fuck Tzuyu,” I scream out as I cum all over her face. She smiles as she gets up. She sauntered off like a satiated predator. As I lay there the weight of what just happened hits me. My cock despite having just orgasmed is still rock hard and overwhelming my body with thoughts of pinning Tzuyu down and railing her. When she does get back she is fully nude and sauntering back for seconds. Our eyes narrow as both our predatory natures rise to the surface. Who will be the first to submit? we ask each other with our eyes. I get up and approach her I strip down as well before reaching her. She looks up into my eyes. I see vulnerability but also a deep fathomless lust. I kiss her forehead which makes her smile acutely and then I bend her over the bed and impale her.

“Oh fuck Dracul,” she yells as I fully rest myself inside her. I wait for her to stop shaking, and then I start thrusting. Tzuyu loses it as my cock ravages her pussy. I put one hand on her hips and the other firmly groped her breast. She moans uncontrolled. I take my time with her body searching for the best angles hoping to get her off. Eventually, I find the winning combination of thrusts, touches, and kisses as she yells, “fuck Dracul I'm cumming.” her womanhood tensed and tightened around me before she squirted profusely over my cock. When she finishes I pump my load into her causing her to orgasm again. 

We fall into bed and pass out after that when I wake up we are spooning and my cock is still deep within her. Feeling me stir she moans as she jolts awake she turns to me and trapezes on top of me before she begins to ride me. Her hands pin mine as she aggressively ruts and grinds into me like an animal in heat. With her ferocious tempo neither of us last long as we cum together. She smiles as she gets off of me and my cum drips down her thighs. 

She goes to shower, giving me a chance to do the same in my room. When I finish, I notice a message on my phone:

“I didn't say you could leave. Meet me downstairs for breakfast.”

Tzuyu’s possessiveness is both sexy and annoying, but I comply. When I arrive, she’s sitting with Chaeyoung and Dahyun, looking relaxed and pleased. I grab a light breakfast of an omelet and toast and join them. They all smile and wave as I sit down.

“So, you're DJ?” Chaeyoung asks. I nod and extend my hand for a shake, which she accepts. Then, I surprise them by praying over my food. 

While we eat, you and Nayeon join us. You notice a few bite marks on my neck and discreetly point them out to Nayeon, who laughs more openly. When Dahyun asks about it, you casually say, “Inside joke.”

You grab a plate for Nayeon, who’s “too exhausted” to do much herself. As you sit back down, Nayeon gives you a mischievous glance before turning to Tzuyu and me.

“So, Tzuyu, did you enjoy DJ last night?” she asks.

I laugh and start to get up, but Tzuyu grabs the edge of my shirt, stopping me. I sit back down as she responds, “I did. He was great. Why? Are you jealous?”

The group falls silent. You look at a stunned Nayeon, then an amused Tzuyu. I marvel at Tzuyu, who turns to me and asks,

“So, what are your plans for today?”

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before replying, “Well, I was planning to visit a couple of tourist sites, play some Commander, and then catch the Rockets game tonight.”

Tzuyu eyes me cautiously before responding, “Okay, but get back as quickly as you can. I have some things I want to discuss with you for tomorrow’s concert. We have a soundcheck today.”

I nod and ask when the soundcheck is. She gives me the time, and I reply, “Oh, I can make that.”

Tzuyu smiles and says, “Perfect!”

  After breakfast, we all split up. Tzuyu corners me, and I can see the arousal in her eyes.

“Do you think you could spend more quality time with me tonight?” she asks. I nod, and she smiles before kissing me. Her tongue pierces down my throat, leaving me breathless.

“Be ready. Yesterday, I only got a taste, but tonight I'm going to devour you,” she says firmly, making me squirm. I nod and give her a timid thumbs-up, fighting the urge to let her have me right there. Tzuyu smiles as she walks away.

When I get to my rental car, you manage to find me.

“My boss has been looking over your work, and he's impressed. He wants to offer you a spot for the rest of the tour,” you tell me. I sit in the car, shocked, before responding,

“How much would the pay be? I’d have to quit my job.”

You eye me nervously and ask, “How does USD 150,000 for the rest of the stops sound?”

I blink at you a couple of times, then calmly say, “That works.”

You also hand me a check for $30,000 to cover the rental, gas, and any other minor expenses. I look at you and sigh.

“I’m going to use this to buy more professional camera equipment since everything else is already accounted for and budgeted,” I reply.

You smile and say, “Well, then you'd better hurry.”

I nod and leave, allowing you to go back to Nayeon with a dumb grin on your face.

Nayeon smiles and says, "Based on your look, I assume he took the deal."

You laugh, relieved, and nod, replying, "Yes, and the dummy is using the money to buy more professional gear."

Nayeon gives you a confused look before asking, "Wait, why is that dumb?"

"Well, short answer: we were going to have him use the gear we already had. But since he's doing all this work to get better, newer gear, we get a return on the rentals. So he's saving us money, and we don’t get used gear. Plus, he's the only one liable,” you say, elated.

Nayeon nods and laughs at my over-eagerness. “Okay, great! Now we 

have some unfinished business,” Nayeon replies.

You approach your starlet with the fervor she deserves. She smiles as she watches you strip bare excited to have you inside her once again. You approach her bare body and begin to kiss her feet, because if there is one thing that Nayeon loves it's being worshiped. so you start with kissing her feet, then you meander to her thighs where you let loose upon them. You spent almost an hour kissing biting and licking her thighs until Nayeon couldn't take it anymore

"Fuck me till I beg you to stop" She whined. You smiled before taking your cock out and plunging into her. 

"Ah Fuck," Nayeon moaned as her pussy acted more like a constricting snake than the bunny she moonlighted as. you moan as you impale her. 

"how are you still so tight?" you ask. Nayeon laughs as she coils around you tightening her pussy even more. 

You two begin to fuck in earnest. You grind ruthlessly into each other's hips as both of you attempt to maximize pleasure for yourselves. You loved that you could be as selfish as you wanted being Nayeon's lover because she was equally as selfish. it made all things with her so honest. you lift her hips to get deeper trying to hit her cervix which Nayeon loved despite the soreness it gave her. when you feel your tip hit her cervix Nayeon moans, and you keep pounding into her tight pussy. 

Her walls continue to get tighter miraculously as you push in and out of her forcing her to take more and more of you. her eyes roll into the back of her head as her tits bounce due to the force of your thrust into her. her blissed-out face makes you smile, and yet somehow her pussy tightens around you again. As she starts convulsing she starts cumming violently around your cock. you groan and push through feeling her walls forcibly trying to milk you. you push past the tightness and look at her.

"I love how fast you cum Nabong. It's so hot," you say as Nayeon moans all around you. you keep thrusting into her while her mind is broken by the pleasure she feels. eventually, you can't hold it anymore and you cum inside of her. You moan as she moans your name before flooding her guts with your seed. After that, she begs you not to go again due to her sensitivity.  

While Nayeon and you were having fun, I was getting a myriad of things done throughout the city. After finishing lunch, I got a text from Tzuyu asking me to meet her at the soundcheck, which was a bit earlier than anticipated. So I headed to the venue. I was stopped at the gate by security, but just then, Jeongyeon arrived. She laughed at me waiting and said to the security guard,

"Why is Tzuyu's photographer being held up by you?" The man went pale. Jeongyeon grabbed me and took me with her.

"You're lucky I was here; otherwise, you'd have been stuck until we left," she teased.

"Thanks, Jeongyeon-noon," I said. Jeongyeon looked at me, disgusted.

"Nope, I hate it. Just call me Jeongyeon," she said firmly. I nodded.

"One last question. Do you know where Tzuyu will be?" Jeongyeon nodded and had me follow her.

We arrived at the staging room. She opened the door, and Tzuyu looked up, making eye contact with me before her face erupted into a smile and a light giggle. Jeongyeon smiled and said, "Don't have too much fun, lovebirds," and then left for another area.

Tzuyu scowled, then turned to me with a happy smile, beckoning me to sit next to her by patting the couch. She hugged me and said, "What took you so long, babe?"

I replied plainly, "I didn't have any credentials according to the security guard, and Mal couldn't vouch for me." Tzuyu nodded as she cuddled me.

"Did you have fun before at least?" she asked happily. Dahyun walked in before I could answer.

Her cute, bewildered look was adorable as she asked, "OH! Am I interrupting something?" I shook my hands, and Tzuyu confirmed she wasn't.

Dahyun sat next to us and pulled out her phone. "I was mostly doing banking stuff since Mal gave me a check for helping you all."

Tzuyu nodded and smiled, "Okay, well, it's good to see you." I gave Chewy a thumbs-up, and she smiled. Dahyun took the lull in the conversation to talk to me.

"So, DJ. How are you feeling about all of us so far?"

"I love it. This is the most... interesting time I have had in a while, so I can't complain too much." Dahyun smiled and said,

"That's great."

I nodded at Dahyun as Chewy nestled closer. As we settled in, a camera flashed. Stunned and confused, I waited for my eyes to readjust, then saw Sara and Sana holding their phones, laughing.

Sara turned to Sana and said, "Oh, got the two lovebirds nesting." Sana laughed with Sara as they walked out. Chewy held me tighter. About 18 minutes later, all of the girls were called for the full run-through. I got up, but before I could join them, you stopped me and handed me multiple badges.

"Here are your badges for the soundcheck and tomorrow's concert," you said firmly. I nodded.

You nodded then said, "Now I know you are hired to be Tzuyu's photographer, but feel free to get some shots of the other girls here and there." I nodded in affirmation.

"Great. Now, last thing: have fun. This is meant to be work, but nothing says we can't enjoy it. Although, based on the noises I heard last night, you certainly know how to have fun."

I laughed and threw you a curveball, "Yeah, I’m sure you do as well with Nayeon." You looked at me, shocked.

"You picked up on that?" you asked, bewildered.

I nodded and said, "Just because it seems like I am not paying attention doesn't mean I am not."

You nodded before saying, "Remind me not to underestimate you."

I smiled and said, "Don't worry, everyone does."

You furrowed your brow, then said, "I won't make a habit of it. So, what did you get today?"

"I got the Nikon Z6III, a Z8, and Z9 cameras, and five various Z-mount lenses."

"Wow, you must like Nikon, but question. Why only on hold? You need them, right?"

"I do, but not right now, and I am waiting for the check to clear. So if you are messing with me, I'll know beforehand."

You considered my words. "Hm, that's quite cunning of you."

I shrugged and replied, "If you think so." You laughed before signing off.

I spent the rest of the soundcheck recording videos and taking pictures while weaving in and out of the "crowds." You watched from afar and noticed my shooting style. It's exceptionally patient, which you found surprising, but you didn't watch me for long as your manager duties and your love for a specific bunny-associated idol forced you to pivot your focus constantly. after the Soundcheck, I head back to my rental followed by Chewy, Mina, and Chaeyoung. we hop in and Mina says, 

"So Mr. Bram if that is your real name I have a question for you. What are your intentions without Maknae?" I look at her then Chewy then at Chaeyoung. I consider saying something dumb but decide on the rational option. 

"I like her and I hope she likes me back. otherwise, just take it slow I guess," Mina eyes me suspiciously but relents.

When we arrive back at the hotel I was expecting a quiet night with Chewy, but I am quickly thrust into a party with the rest of Twice as they get out their pre-concert jitters. 

it was hectic among other things. there was drinking, karaoke, dancing, and other shenanigans. I was able to steal a few moments with Chewy and we were able to discuss the photos I took today. She also liked the photos I took of the other members. 

"Hey, lovebirds. No discussing work," a drunk Nayeon said to us as we chatted on the edge of the "party." 

I tapped out at about 12:45 AM, while the Extroverts of the group plus Nayeon (she is an honorary extrovert) Mina, Jeongyeon, and Momo kept going. I got to my room and was surprised to hear a knock on the door. I open it and Chewy is waiting outside. I wince before saying,

"I am sorry Chewy but I can't do anything else tonight." Chewy smiles before saying

"Good me too. I just wanted to cuddle tonight." I give her a thumbs up and we get in the bed before passing out. I wake up before her and shower. after the shower, she looks at me with a hungry look. I sigh and say,

"As much as I would like to spend more time with you I have too much to do." Chewy rolls her eyes before getting up to kiss me and then shower herself. 

"Fine but can I ride with you?" I nod and we get ready.

fast forward we pick up the cameras and lenses. I also pick up more memory and a few other essentials. I charge all of them at the hotel as Chewy and I float around doing our various concert preparations. When we have to leave you and Sara ride with me while the girls ride together. We arrive at the venue and it's on from there.

I hustled around the venue, my camera clicking away as I captured the energy of the final preparations. The air was thick with excitement and a touch of nervousness. Tzuyu spotted me from across the room and made her way over, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Her eyes sparkled with determination.

“You don’t need it, but good luck anyway,” I replied, grinning back at her.

The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd surged through the arena. The concert had begun. I moved through the crowd, capturing the electrifying performances, the fans’ ecstatic faces, and the sheer energy of the night. 

Now and then, Tzuyu would glance my way, our eyes meeting for a brief moment amidst the chaos, a silent connection that kept me grounded.

After the concert, the atmosphere was jubilant. The group members hugged each other, celebrating their success. 

Tzuyu found me in a quieter corner, her face glowing with happiness and exhaustion.

“Thank you for being here,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Not just for the photos, but for me.”

“Anytime,” I replied, holding her close. she tried to protest due to being sweaty and smelly but I informed her that we were well past that

Just then, you approached us, holding an official-looking document. “Well, you made it. (I nod) I take it you had fun? (I nod again) Good well there is only one last bit of business. Are you willing to do the rest of the tour?”

I looked at Tzuyu. Her eyes were hopeful, yet she remained silent, not wanting to sway my decision. I thought about the journey, the connections I had made, and the possibilities that lay ahead.

“I’d love to,” I said, smiling as I took the contract. Tzuyu beamed with joy.

As the celebration continued, Tzuyu and I slipped away to a quieter spot on the rooftop, overlooking the city lights. The night was cool, and the city seemed to sparkle just for us.

“We did it,” Tzuyu said, leaning against the railing, her hand entwined with mine.

“We did,” I agreed, looking out at the horizon. “And it’s just the beginning.”

“Promise me something,” she said, turning to face me. “No matter how crazy things get, we make time for moments like this.”

“Promise,” I said, sealing it with a kiss.

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights casting a soft glow around us. At that moment, I felt a sense of peace and anticipation. The future was uncertain, but it was bright, filled with endless possibilities.

As the night wore on, I reflected on my journey. From a chance encounter to this incredible moment, I found love, friendship, and a new path in life. And for the first time in a long while, I was truly excited for what lay ahead.

Tzuyu and I shared a final kiss under the stars, ready to face whatever the future held, together. 

[i-yap]

Hi there! LOVE your thoughts on Jason like truly i <3 clingy Jason!!!!! What do you think a relationship would be like between Jason and a corporate baddie? Like she's serious, career-driven, and almost viciously ambitious, but for him? a total softie!! Like they just melt for each other despite the fact that they both put up a tough exterior to others!!

Omg i love that , here are my headcanons -

Jason todd x corporate baddie!y/n

I think the time schedules would be a mess. She works 9-5 and he 'works' 9pm-5am. But since she is a really career driven woman, I can see her sort of completing her extra or personal work/ international calls etc from the time that jason is vigilanting and therefore cutting her shift from like 9-3 or something similar. Since she gets all her work done, no one can say a word and honestly no one would dare to either way. Relstionship is about compromise and I think jason will cut down his vigilante time to get home to his stressed worker bee.

Jason prolly cant sleep without her so while she is at her job, he is working out or doing his other stuff. They catch up on sleep after her shift . This means afternoon cuddles !!( Ofc I am firm believer that jason should with time leave crime fighting and become an English professor )

I also love how most of her coworkers thinks she is prolly dating a Submissive type of guy or like a really serious professional dude cause she is so scary and strict . But then Jason- 6 feet something, huge asf, leather jacket, tattoos(maybe) and motorcycle dude walks in bringing her lunchbox( that looks so tiny in his hand). Yea now they're even more scared.

And I think everyone from jason's side also assumed that he'd either get a super cute-sy girl that will "fix him" or another vigilante girl that'll " make him worse". But he walks in with this poised, smart hardworking no nonsense woman and everyone's like DAMN

Damian loves you probably. He doesn't get how todd wooed you, like he thinks todd is a doofus. For once you are a normal (non crime fighting) girl that his brother is dating who is this career driven and also treats his brother properly. He loves talking business with you ( there was this scene where he figures out who is stealing money by looking at the finances at wayne enterprises) . and for once someone doesn't take him for a kid and actually wants to listen to pointers that he has. Tim prolly also loves talking to you about business cause he is a CEO too same thing for bruce.

Power couple fr.

but once you too get home...yea no one recognizes you.

Jason loves the fact that you show your soft side only to him. He has never been someones first choice in anything and this makes him feel so much more loved and cherished. and vice versa applies to you

he loves taking care of you after your long ass workday, helping you just be vulnerable and drop the whole tough act and be human. you do the same for him once he comes back at night. Just taking care of each other the way you guys need.

And you can bet jason knows how to be your biggest supporter. big raise? promotion? or just a good presentation?? He is genuinely excited for you.

Will give you back rubs when you've been sitting on the desk the whole day

will cook you brunch/snacks for when you come back and you will cook him breakfast/dinner for when he does .

it will take some compromise and adjustments but its all worth it and no price at all for loveeee.