Day 4: Strangled | Anxiety attack | No escape | “I wish I hadn’t stayed”
AN: I never recovered from this and now neither will you 😈
It’s taken all the time we wasted to shave off my waistline
Fandom: Heated Rivalry
Ship: Hollanov (Ilya x Shane)
Tags: angst, depression, post tuna melt scene drop, Ilya angst, smoking to cope and self harm, hurt/no comfort
“You gonna cum for me Rozanov?”
“Ah! Fucking make me Hollander.”
“Spit.”
Ilya does, and then the glide between their dicks is so much nicer he’s crying out, his head falling back as Shane pumps them faster. He's so close, so so close. “Fuck,” he warns, he can never last when Shane is touching him. “Shane!”
“Ilya…”
Ilya blacks out from the raw intensity of his orgasm. When he comes back to earth, he’s chuckling, pressing kisses into Shane’s mouth, his cheek. I love you Shane. I love you so much. It's practically bursting from his lips.
He wants to tell him. He feels ready. Now seems like as good a time as any. But he can’t find Shane’s eyes. And then the other man is moving away from him.
“I’m sorry… I- I have to go.”
Shane’s words drop on him like a bucket of ice water.
“Go?” Ilya is shattering inside. His heart feels strangled, his stomach kicked. What happened? What did I do wrong? I’m sorry Shane, please, please don’t leave. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him to stay? Maybe that's what ruined it all.
“Yeah, I forgot about a team meeting.”
“You forgot team meeting?” Shane’s lie is obvious, which is all the more insulting. Did he break a rule? Did he misinterpret something? Everything?
“Yeah, I, I'm sorry.”
“Hollander...” Please don’t go.
“Thank you, for the tuna melt. But I- have to go.”
“Hollander,” Ilya repeats, just to really send it home. See, things are normal, you don't have to leave. Please don't leave me Shane. Not like this. We can go back. This doesn’t have to be serious. It can be casual. Enemies hate sex or whatever you’ve been calling it that’s clearly so much different than how I interpreted the events.
“I’m sorry,” Shane says again, “I can't do this.”
And then he leaves.
Shane fucking leaves and he takes Ilya’s heart with him.
Ilya doesn't follow. In fact, he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch; eyes still locked on the hallway Shane left through. Like maybe, Shane will come to his senses halfway back to his hotel and come running back. Begging forgiveness. But that never happens. Not in the three hours Ilya sits there, catatonic.
When he’s finally given up all hope of Sh- Hollander returning, he walks into his bedroom, pulls out the hollowed-out Bible that holds his emergency cigarettes and stuffs one in his mouth.
He had cut down significantly since dating- hooking up with Hollander. But it wasn’t ‘serious.’ Just like he told Svetlana. And now that it's definitive he’s not coming back, Ilya doesn’t really see the need to not smoke them now.
So he does. One after another. All the way down to the filter until he’s finished the pack.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed, only that it’s evening now. The sun set a while ago. His stomach begs for food. His head, muscles, and body beg for water. Instead, he showers and brushes his teeth to get the thick layer of tar off and then passes out on his couch.
He doesn’t miss practice. Even if he woke up this morning feeling like he was hit and then repeatedly run over by a tank. If he misses practice, things will be worse for him. He may not have Shane anymore, but he still has hockey. At least for a little while.
Two weeks later
Things have been up up up for the great Shane Hollander, hands twisted on every local news station with his newest lover, Rose Landry. Ilya feels sick every time he sees them together. It's not even just the jealousy of being picked over, but the fact that they can be out in ways he and Shane could never be. He could never hold Shane’s hand like that in public. Shane could barely handle him saying his first name in private…
Fuck.
He gets off the exercise bike in such a huff he stubs his toe.
He has cigarettes and vodka for dinner again.
“Fuck!”
“Hey, are you alright?”
-
Three weeks of treating his body like shit is starting to catch up with him, and he’s not the only one who notices.
“Mm. Course,” Ilya says, not even gracing his best friend of almost two decades with a glance.
“Ilya.”
“What?”
“Пожалуйста, не лги мне.” (Please don’t lie to me.)
Ilya finally looks at her, just for a second. She’s always been too observant for her own good.
“Tired,” he eventually yields, “And,” what’s an appropriate word? Hollow, empty, numb. “distracted.”
“Because of Jane?”
“No! Because I am lazy, mediocre player fucking it all up!”
“Who the fuck said that?”
Ilya shoots her a look. There are two people in his immediate circle who are constantly telling him that. She knows that.
“It’s not true,” she insists.
Ilya shrugs.
“Maybe it is.”
“Maybe, it's not.”
He wishes he could give her that. He really does… “Have you called him?”
“Who? Alexi?”
“Jane.”
His head snaps up from his phone, a sharp, painful anxiety building in his chest. How did she know? How long has she known? What does this mean? Will this change everything? He can’t lose her too.
She only gives him one of his favorite knowing smiles and squeezes his hand reassuringly.
Tears push their way down his face. He takes his hand back to wipe them.
“…He doesn’t want to hear from me.”
“How do you know?”
Ilya has to force down a hateful scoff. It will sound like he is mad at her, which he isn't. He just can’t afford a second anxiety attack this week. He’s still mentally recovering from the first. But he knows. Oh, he fucking knows. Every time he opens his phone, email, or fucking social media, he’s smacked with the reminder he will never be good enough. No one will ever want him. Everyone he loves will eventually leave him.
He grabs his necklace subconsciously. He wishes he could talk to his mom.
“Ilya-”
Today's the first day his cigarettes-and-vodka diet finally catches up with him. He's in so much pain that he’s physically unable to get out of bed. Every time he attempts to stand, he is brought to the floor by a dizzying nausea threatening to spill his guts.
“Trust me,” he huffs, “I know.”
-
He has to call in sick. He gets screamed at by his coach for a good half hour, but he knew that was going to happen anyway.
He doesn't leave his bed. All week. He misses three practices altogether. His paycheck, personal stock, and ego take a massive hit. His father and brother haven't stopped calling to bitch him out. He wants to cry, but he can't spare the fluids.
On day 9, the news must have broken containment because he’s staring at the first text he’s gotten from ‘Jane’ in weeks.
[Are you okay?]
Ilya laughs hatefully at the text. Months have passed. Not one word. Not one text, email, call, or word through the grapevine. Ilya feels insulted that he bothered to text him now.
He fires off a,
[Fine.]
Before tossing his phone onto his bed and moving to the living room to sulk some more.
All my AITCM & whumptober fics * AITCM Event * Sinful Sunday
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in honor of such a great holiday I posted the College AU snippit I told yall about forever ago
Here you go!!!!!!!!!!
I believe that we're meant to be
Fandom: Stanger Things-College AU
Tags: harringrove week!, Artist Billy Hargrove, Writer Steve Harrington, College AU, Friends to Lovers, aNd tHe wEre RoOmMaTes
Preview:
“Whoa.”
The blonde, ponytailed artist turns around at the sudden appearance of a voice, face breaking into a smile that Steve could only describe as pure sunshine. Bold, dirty blonde eyebrows highlight icy blue irises and Steve feels stunned in place by his very presence.
“Oh hey,” he nods, extending his hand out, “You must be Harrington- nice to meet you. I’m Billy.”
Steve had heard of being starstruck but didn’t that only apply to celebrities? He had never seen this ‘Billy’ before today but he is no exaggeration, floored by his beauty. He was about Steve’s height, maybe an inch shorter, beautiful, and so so tan. He hadn't seen this many muscles since high school basketball, and Billy was more than happy to flaunt them. The man was wearing overalls for fucks sake. Just overalls as far as Steve could tell. He can just barely make out one dark pink nipple beside the button clasp.
Obviously not just barely, his mind so helpfully added, and Steve watches in agony as that beautiful smile starts to fade and his arm drops. Billy turns back to the colorful mural on the wall.
“Looking at it now,” Billy backpedals, misinterpreting Steve’s silence. “I can see it's a little much. I can cover it?”
Absolutely fucking NOT! No way! Not if it means he ever has to see that frown on that beautiful face again. Steve's brain finally caught up with him and he shouts, NO a little too loudly for their close proximity.
Billy’s eyes whip back to him, startled with amused confusion.
"Sorry,” Steve flushes, “I-I mean, it just took a second for my eyes to adjust,” to you, “but this is cool. I like it a lot. Honestly. It adds life to the room.”
The blonde's smile returns in full force and Steve feels his heart sputter and restart. Oh he’s in fucking trouble.
Fandom: Heated Rivalry
Ship: Hollanov
Tags: One shot, Rookies + more sex, Shane's Dildo, first time, one shot, plot what plot, blowjobs, smut
Preview:
For the record, he hates that Rozanov is making him spell it out. But he’s not scared. Scared is the last thing he is right now. Now that he’s tasted everything he’s been needing since forever, Shane cannot get enough.
“No, Jesus, I’m trying to tell you- I have a thing.”
“A thing?”
“Yeah… A- A dildo.”
“…”
“…” Goddamn it, Shane wants to evaporate out of his skin.
Tags: BodySwap AU, Bi Steve Harrington, Gay Billy Hargrove, Enemies to Friends to Lovers,
Minor Slow Burn
Preview:
A few days after their combined, second, near death experience, things are better. At least by comparison. They are still body swapped, but by now they have more or less figured out a routine, a passable imitation of the others mannerisms to fool unknown parties, and relocated to Steve's house again, but this time as boyfriends.
The last few days have been good, so Steve can't quite figure out why Billy has been giving his face frown lines for the last 4 hours.
“Okay, spill.”
“Spill what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking,” Steve nods, touching the place of Billy’s borrowed face that is scrunched up. “You’re gonna make those permanent."
Billy snorts and knocks Steve’s hand away playfully. He doesn't answer immediately, delaying the inevitable by reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He lights it and smokes two drags before handing it over to Steve.
“He’s been quiet.”
Steve doesn't need to ask which ‘he’ he's referring to.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
”Why though? He was there, he had me, us, moments from death, and then he just, disappears?”
“Billy,” Steve exhales, taking Billy’s hand, “Baby. I’ve lived through, well, one too many apocalypses now. The biggest take away I got from that, is if you don't spend time in the good moments, then every second of your life is filled with this shit. And I mean every moment. I think that's what he feeds on. Our insecurities, our vulnerabilities.”
“Hit the jackpot with us.”
“Shut up,” Steve laughs, crushing out the cigarette in favor of crawling over Billy, guiding him down until his back rests against the oversized couch. “Speaking of moments,” he flirts, “We don't have to pick up the party for another 30 minutes.”
“Oh yeah? What are we going to do with the other 29 minutes? Cuddle?”
“Fuck you!” Steve laughs, biting into Billy’s neck sharply until he whines.
“Isn’t that what you were offering,” Billy pants, yanking Steve’s lips against his when his teeth finally released his neck. Billy pushes his tongue inside, claiming and hot and everything Steve is addicted to.
“Yes, 100% yes,” Steve groans, finding Billy's hands and pushing them down, effectively pinning the other man under his own muscular weight.
“Mmm,” Billy moans, rocking his hips up. “Something tells me you got a type Pretty Boy.”
“Oh yeah, what's that?”
“I don’t know, ask your dick.”
“Okay fine,” Steve chuckles, kissing up Billy's borrowed neck before biting hard again. “I love your muscles, what a shock to everyone. It's not like I told you that when we were watching Dirty-” but Billy interrupts him with his own biting kiss.
“Too much talking, not enough fucking Harrington.”
“Mmm,” Steve groans, pushing his tongue into Billy's open mouth. “Take off your clothes.”
Billy doesn't need to be told twice. He bucks Steve up so he can yank off his shirt.
While he does that Steve moves down, undoing Billy's jeans. Once his dick is free Steve is sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh shit, fuck,” Billy pants, and Steve grins. He hasn't seen anything yet.
Steve's hands find Billy's borrowed hipbones and grip hard, pinning him down onto the couch before taking the entirety of his dick into his throat.
“Ah! Steve,” Billy gasps, bucking his hips up, bottoming out. “Fuck.”
Steve groans around his dick and Billy swoons. Steve smirks before repeating the motion, pulling out another gasping moan out of Billy. “Steve, Stevesteve,” Billy begs, hips desperately trying to fuck deeper into his mouth but unable to under the strength of Steve’s borrowed hands.
Why is that so fucking hot? Steve doesn't think he's ever seen Billy so desperate. It really won't be long now. Steve knows that hitch in his own voice.
“Fuck,” Billy sobs, “Steve. I'm-”
Billy’s gonna cum any second. He's trying to be considerate and warn Steve to pull off. Steve doesn't want considerate, he wants filthy. His motions double in speed, pulling a deliciously strangled sound from his boyfriend as cum finally floods his mouth.
“Fuck,” Billy growls again, before yanking Steve off by his hair.
Steve can't help but chuckle. He knows how sensitive he is after orgasm.
“So I guess it was good,” Steve laughs.
“Good? Holy- fuck Steve, you’re fucking amazing at that!”
“Duh,” Steve chuckles, flopping down next to Billy before snatching the cigarette pack off the coffee table. “How do you think I got the title of King?”
Billy's eyebrows scrunch together before his eyes blow wide in genuine surprise. And then he's laughing, harder and lighter than Steve’s ever heard before.
They share the cigarette in a comfortable silence, sending each other playful looks. And then once it's finished, Billy is crawling over him, insisting,
“Your turn.”
“Not gonna argue there.”
Billy snorts and then yanks down Steve’s sweats.
Billy’s mouth is a velvet paradise, and that's confirmed by the feral sound currently tearing its way free of Steve’s chest. But it's not like he can help it. Not when Billy’s tongue and teeth are on the piercings; licking, biting, and pulling the way Billy knows his body likes. Fuckfuckfuck. “Biiilllyy.”
“Sensitive,” Billy smirks before going right back to messing with the curved bars.
“Y-Yes asshole.”
“Asshole?” Billy teases, sucking the length back into his throat and humming. “I’m being so nice to you,”
“Fuck, Billy,” Steve groans, hand immediately going for his hair to hold him there. He is being nice, but he’s also being so cruel. Because Billy knows exactly what to do to keep himself on edge and its as hot as it is sexually frustrating. And maybe a little narcissistic, because he looks really good with Billy's dick in his mouth. Enough to have him begging out, “Please fuck me.”
Billy’s got a condom and lube before Steve can finish another thought.
When Billy sits down on him, Steve nearly blacks out from the burst of sudden sensations. His borrowed cock pulses hard. His hand reaches out for Billy, needing to touch him to ground himself.
Billy finds him too, pulling him impossibly closer.
“You like that?”
“Yes,” Steve nods before reconnecting their mouths. “I like everything about you.”
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I got another chapter coming this Sunday for ya! Here's a little peak before tomorrrrrow
It's 3 am I must be lonely: Chapter 7
“Oh man,” Dean whistles in appreciation as he walks through the four bed, four bathroom home. “This place is awesome.”
“I thought you'd rather eat a bullet then stay in the burbs?”
“Look at the size of this shower Sam! You could fit like 5 people in here!”
“You’re fucking nuts,” Sam grumps, going to drop his weapons bag off in one of the other rooms since its clear they are not heading back to the motel tonight.
“Come on Sammy, join me.”
“Someone's gotta stay out here and listen to the police scanner!”
“Really,” Dean laughs, “You're turning me down for work?”
“We’re on a job Dean.”
“Right,” Dean nods before yanking off his shirt. “Your loss.”
-
Sam shouldn't be listening. Especially after all that shit he just talked about needing to stay focused on work. But he can't stay focused. Not when his dick is aching because Dean has been touching himself in the shower, begging for Sam to fuck him for the last 6 minutes.
He's only human. And maybe a small part of him, a huge, throbbing, aching part of him, wants to join. Take out his bad mood from the last 24 hours on Dean’s ass like his brother so clearly wants him to.
“Fuck, Sam-my,” Dean groans before slapping the shower wall and Sam can't wait out here any more.
He isn't quiet entering the bathroom. In fact he all but kicks the door from its hinges.
Dean doesn't frighten, instead he’s grinning at him through the fogged glass, hand still wrapped around his dick. “Fucking finally.”
This weeks update is thanks to a very kind reader @ssculker who wanted to see more of this one! I honestly love this one too, im a big slut for angst 🤩
Faith fell short this time your smile fades in the summer
Ch 2: When we die our souls will leave this place
Fandom: Stranger things
Ship: Mungrove
Tags: Post S3 & 4, Billy is in the upside down, feral billy, trapped in the upside down, Mungrove, injury hurt/comfort, memory loss, the upside down has psychedelic mushrooms
Preview:
“She was pretty. And you, you were happy…”
The last eight words Billy’s mortal ears would ever hear, and they were everything he has been begging, screaming, needing someone to see for so long. He wasn’t always like this. He used to be okay. Maybe even close to normal. And then his mom left and Neil got worse and his life went to literal shit. One this shadow monster saw and latched onto like a leech.
But this girl. This weird, magical, stranger had cut through the monster running his body, his Hawkins reputation, all the bullshit, and saw him. The person he wanted so desperately to be again.
His eyes shut in quiet surrender. His next move is clear. He hopes, prays Eddie will forgive him, because he knows, he will never be able to ask for forgiveness.
🔥Sinful Sunday🔥
happy (almost) breakfast club day!!!!
*Equip Sunglasses*
Fandom: The Breakfast Club
Ship: Bender x Andrew (Bendrew)
Tags: Enemies to Lovers to Friends, post movie-second detention, Smoking/Shotgunning, First Kiss, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, One Shot?
Content Warnings: Implied child abuse, homophobia
Preview:
Andrew is feeling significantly looser after those few hits. He’s much less anxious about how much they are still touching and every time Bender passes the joint back, Andrew can’t stop obsessing over how badly he wants to do more than just incidentally touch him.
“Last hit. Bender offers, breaking him out of his potentially dangerous thoughts. “You want it?”
“Sure,” Andrew says, holding his hand out.
Instead of handing it over, Bender smirks, pulling the joint back to his lips and inhaling. He doesn’t blow it out. Instead he's looking at Andrew almost expectantly.
