#I like Eddie an unhealthy amount

[respectthepetty]

Since I'm obsessed with Eddie (and Chen Yi) in Kiseki: Dear to Me, I'm watching the BTS videos, respectfully, so I thought I'd share some of my favorite tidbits.

Chen Yi does have trackers on Eddie.

Chen Yi does, in fact, like being tied up by Eddie.

And Eddie (after the actor did some hardcore mathing) has liked Chen Yi since elementary school.

Finally, "butt" was a possibility in that bar game.

thanks to @befuddledcinnamonroll for posting the links

BTS episode 1-2

BTS episode 3

BTS episode 4

BTS episode 5

[fleuraimer]

i NEED to hear your thoughts on reader's arguments with boxer!carmy. what's their first argument about? who usually caves first?

you, anon, are a hero and a scholar and are about to receive the greatest blurb in the history of the the tumblr industry (pls someone understand this reference ��😭)

BUT IT ALL SERIOUSNESS, this is fucking gold; i love you for sending this.

tw!! ooooohh they get into it yall. carmen being a man (ik, i’m sorry). some suggestive content. happy ending.

bf boxer!carmy and reader fighting!!

concept 1. concept 2. bf boxer!carmy hcs.

ok, so, me thinks bf boxer!carmy and his pretty broad actually argue a lot. so often it teeters just on the edge of being unhealthy. but, they also know each other and realize they’re two petty asf ppl (😭😭). so, even though they argue often, it’s usually over stupid shit, or their little fears (like who was supposed to wash the dishes that night, or how carmy’s profession holds a great deal of power over his life, enough to take it away—

she tries hard not to think about it too much; that argument is a losing game).

if carmy’s being frank, it’s half the reason he’s so fucking obsessed in love with her. she’s feisty—she’s trouble, and carmy’s never been good at staying out of it, even before he was the one starting the fights.

however…

when they fight—oh boy! do they fight.

i’d like to think bf boxer!carmy has a hugeeeee jealousy problem (lil insecure loser ☹️🫶🏽), and so that’s usually how their more heated fights begin.

i think their very first BIG fight has to do with a mix of his jealousy issue and the nature of how their relationship came to be.

allow me to set the scene:

so carmy wins the fight against timmy boy (surprise??) and starts talking to his pretty broad, finds out her and timmy aren’t exclusive, just messing around, and takes the green light.

a few weeks go by and everything is going smoothly—you know, the usual, extravagant dates and expensive gifts, lots of pampering and affection from both ends; the rose-hued, honeymoon stage—and carmy invites her as his plus one to some big party/event for his job.

he knocks on the front door of her apartment at 7:15 pm on the dot with a stunning bouquet—baby’s breath and lilies and anemones—of flowers in his right hand. he’s dressed to the nines; a fitted black tux—double breasted, with peak lapels, and slightly high-waisted trousers—and a brown dress-shirt, first thee to four buttons undone (whore 🥸) with a black chiffon, nearly iridescent slip over it that makes that same brown look an earthy, rich green at a swift glance. one gold bracelet, one gold ring for each hand (middle and pinky fingers), his unnecessarily attractive little gold hoop earrings, and a simple gold crucifix hangin’ ‘round his neck.

he raps his busted knuckles against the door with his left hand, and then patiently leans against the frame and awaits the telltale sign of her heels against the hardwood floors.

he counts to seventeen before her front door is swinging open.

the first thing he notices is that smile (that smile, the one she only ever gives to him—not eddie (god forbid), or nacho, or benny, or fucking timmy—just him). pearly whites, with bow and cherry gems (i loveeee teeth gems if my pfp didn’t make that clear), on display, framed by those plump, painted lips—brown liner, blackberry pink lipstick, and a nice, shiny gloss—that never seem to leave his head; burned into his memory, melded to his mind.

his eyes drop to the baby pink toes he’s become far too fond of, the white strap and silver chain of her dior heels placed prettily over top. flits his appraising gaze up to her ankles, the left one wrapped in the anklet he gifted her on their fourth date, a (boxing) glove charm hanging from the gold link. up—up, up, up—they go, trailing the soft ruffles and tedious buttons lining her long sleeve knit dress, hem hitting just at her shin, tight fitting—cinched to her figure—with a swoop neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage.

he stops when his eyes find hers again, brown sugar and saccharine.

he pushes off the door frame and steps through, ‘til they’re standing toe to toe and her head is awkwardly bent backward so she can keep eye contact.

“hi, bear,” she chirps, soft and taunting. grins at him while her jewel adorned hands slide up the smooth lapels of his tux.

the left corner of his mouth kicks up into a smirk as he snakes his left arm around her waist, dragging her closer.

his head spins with the scent of cinnamon and evergreen, and he wants to nuzzle in her neck because of it.

“hey, cub,” he rumbles back, and neither of them acknowledge the way she practically melts into her, she just curls her fingers into his lapels, and he tightens his hold on her waist.

she looks at the flowers in his right hand, “those for me?”

carmy turns his head to look at the flowers, lifts his hand with a noisy crinkle to present ‘em to her.

still, he shakes his head, puts on his best poker face and huffs, “nah, i’m taking that real pretty broad down the hall on a date tonight. just dropping in to say ‘hi’.”

her grin drops, face flat, eyes narrowed.

she unfurls her fists from his jacket, starts pushing him away, out from where he came.

“well, since we’ve finished swapping pleasantries—”

this time when he huffs, he’s huffing out a laugh, “i’m kidding. hey, baby, i’m kidding. swear.” he drops the flowers (unimportant; he can get more if she really wants them) to the ground at the side of their feet and wraps his other arm around her waist, crowding her space, barely giving her room to breathe, let alone slip from his grasp.

she wriggles in his hold, still shoving uselessly at his firm chest. “carmen, let go—”

and, well he’s definitely in trouble, but there’s not much to be done about that now, is there?

he takes both her tiny, pounding fists and locks them behind her back in one fell swoop “never. now look at me.”

she looks into the hallway, just over his shoulder, to piss him off.

his eye threatens to twitch.

“look at me, cub. don’t make me say it again.”

she rolls her brown sugar eyes, but does thereafter shift her gaze to look at him. raises an impatient brow.

“i’m sorry for saying that. it was a shitty joke—”

“it wasn’t fucking funny, carm.”

he grunts, “all right. wasn’t funny, i’m sorry, baby.”

she continues to glare at him for another 30 to 45 seconds, but then her shoulders are slumping and her face is scrunching in that cute little pout and she’s whining like a sweet little baby.

“wasn’t funny, bear,” she grumbles, and carmy snickers.

“y’already said that; gimme a kiss.”

she shakes her head, fussy, and now it’s carmy’s turn to raise an impatient brow.

“what was that? speak up, baby.”

“no,” she groans, stomping her foot, trying to free her hands from behind her back, but there’s no way she’s getting out now, not if she wants to act like a brat.

“try again.”

“n—”

he yanks her into his chest, “try the fuck again.”

but when has she ever just willingly rolled over?

“let me go, carmen.”

“give me a fucking kiss, cub.”

—

they show up to carmy’s work gathering an hour and a half late, but who’s fucking fault is that (this, too, is a losing game)?

when they step into the venue together, all eyes immediately fall on them. how could they not?

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the bear, and his new girl.

timothy ‘timmy’ grayson’s ex girl.

they don’t let it phase them, the side eye and poorly disguised whispering, just find their way to their way to the open bar and mingle with their inner circle.

the night quickly descends from business to casual, but that could just be because they were so late. as the older patrons slip out, the inconsequential jazz humming in the background is shut off, and then the ceiling is shaking with the bass of keep it g by asap rocky.

somehow, carmy’s on his second glass of bourbon and his girl just finished her third glass of wine and they’re…tipsy.

it’s not even like the song playing is inherently sexual, at all, really, but carmy’s lips are trailing over the back of her neck, uncoordinated—messy—and his fingers are digging into her hips because the way she’s fucking grinding on him should not be legal.

“god, cub,” he grunts in her ear, rolling his hips back into her.

“mhmm,” she moans in the back of her throat, subdued, swallowed down, and places her hands over his that grip at her like a lifeline. she lets her head fall back, settle in the crook of his neck so she can nose at the hinge of his jaw and suck a pretty hickey there, too.

he fully thrusts into her, the bass of the speakers muffling the too audible slap of their bodies connecting.

she squirms and squeaks, “bear!”

he growls, “what?”

she giggles in the shell of his ear. “down, boy. i gotta hit the restroom.”

carmy, very reluctantly, lets her slip from his grasp and venture to find the woman’s room. he nurses on another drink—whiskey, this time—but paces himself as he waits for his girl’s return.

that is, until he sees his girl in question talking with timothy fucking grayson. then, he downs the rest of his drink like water and calmly—calmly—walks up to them.

now, if (and this is a very big fucking if) carmen wasn’t being a complete a***** ******* ****** ***** *****, then maybe he would’ve noticed the rather unkempt state of his pretty broad, her soured expression and guarded body language.

he was being a complete redacted though, so he just steps behind her with his chest puffed and his jaw set, just itching for timmy to say something fucking stupid.

and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face might scratch that itch just enough to satiate him.

“what’re y’doin’ with my girl, timmy?”

he doesn’t register the way she bristles against him at the term.

my girl.

“just makin’ friendly conversation,” he shrugs, still smirking, and carmy has never wanted his knuckles to split so fucking bad.

“friendly conversation?” he nearly coos back, the condescending, possessive prick. “why don’t y’find someone else to go make friendly conversation with, yeah? fuck off.”

he walks away before timmy boy gets the chance to respond, dragging his girl behind him.

when they make it back to the bar, he finally has the decency to assess his pretty broad. or, hound her, more like.

"what was he sayin' to you? and what the hell were you doin' with him in the fuckin' first place? if he bothers you again you come straight to me, understood?"

he's met with silence.

he frowns, looks down at his girl to find the same expression on her face, and goes to repeat himself. "i said, underst—"

"take me home, carmen."

his frown deepens. he bends in the knee to try and catch her eyes, but she turns her head away as soon as he glimpses her brown sugar irises.

"cub—"

"take me home, carmen. now."

and they've fought, all right? small tiffs here and there, "pick your fucking shoes up, carmen!", "stop fucking touching shit, carm!", "god, carmen, just leave me alone!" but this is different. deeper.

he's still frowning as he nods, mutters "okay," softly, as to not upset her any further, and places his hand on the small of her back to guide out of the venue doors and out to the valet.

usually, after a date, carmen will pull in to a parking space and get out first to open the passenger door for his girl and walk her up to her apartment, before either getting sent off with a goodnight kiss or getting tugged through her front door to continue where they'd left off.

this time, though, she out the door before the cars even full parked.

carmen rushes to keep up with her takes the stairs to her apartment two at a time.

"cub, wait up!"

she does no such thing.

in fact, she only seems to move faster in lieu of his request (brat).

he nearly misses his window to at least say goodnight to her, with the way she quickly keys into her home and tries to slam the door in his face, but a foot in the frame easily rectifies that.

"hey!" he barks at her, shoving the door open and slamming it shut after him.

"don't slam my damn door, carmen!"

"don't try to slam your damn door in my damn face, then!"

she frustratedly groans, arms flailing in exclamation. he watches her cautiously as she looks frantically for something—something, anything—before she's bending down to take off her dior heels.

clearly, something has pent up—boiled, festered—within her, because she chucks a shoe at his head (and for someone so unassuming, she has a damn good arm).

he ducks just before it can hit him, instead banging into the wall.

"what the fu— ow!"

she doesn't miss the second time.

"fuck you, carmen!" she screams at him.

"fuck you! you just threw your fucking shoe at my head! twice!"

"and you fucking deserved it," she cries, taking a step closer to him, pointing an accusatory finger. "you dick!"

"what the fuck did i do?" he shouts back, taking a step forward himself, brows furrowed in frustrated confusion.

"you— y-you—"

he takes another step toward her, "huh? i what? spit it the fuck out, baby."

not for the first time, she pouts like a kicked puppy, and her hands brace on his sturdy shoulders, and she pushes at him, angry. but, certainly for the first, carmy actually loses his balance. nearly trips over his feet with the way he stumbles backward.

"ugh, asshole! you made a bet!"

he frowns, bewildered. "what?"

"don't fucking lie to me, carm—"

"baby, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"stop fucking calling me that!" she screams, "with timothy! you made a bet with him before the fight, a bet on me!"

carmy's mouth hangs open, forming to phantom explanations that all fall too short or get too intimate—personal; she doesn't need to know the backstory, the why in his road to success. she can't, not yet. not so soon.

she shoves him again at his lack of response, and, for the second time, carmy stumbles back.

"fuck you, carmy!" she screams, eyes brimming and— fuck, she was not supposed to find out this way (well, ever, really, but surely not in this way). he racks his brain for sufficient a justification.

"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! is that how you fucking see me? i'm just another belt you meatheads pass around and compete for? fucking kill yourselves over?"

"that's not true, baby—"

"i'm not your fucking baby!" she goes to shove him again, but he's ready this time, steeled. she throws her weight into each nudge and push and shove she gives to him, grunts and grumbles through the exertion of it, but he's stock-still like a statue now, and immovable force to be reckoned with.

"you done?" he mutters when she's huffin' and puffin' too hard to keep going.

her eyes snap from his chest to his baby blues, glaring. "fuck—!"

"—me? yeah, you've already said that, several times actually. now are you gonna let me explain, or do you wanna keep screamin'?"

her eyes, somehow, narrow further, teeth barred.

carmy prepares himself.

"do i wanna keep screamin'? well, since you fucking offered," she gripes, pounding her fists into his chest again. and he lets her. "you don't fucking think, do you? just puff your chest and fucking take it if you want it, right? god, carmen, i'm not some fucking toy—"

"i never implied that you were—"

"so you didn't bet you could fuck me better than timothy at the weigh-in?"

he snaps his mouth shut.

she scoffs, shakes her head. "un-fucking-believable," she mutters under her breath.

she sighs, and the (arguably) worst is over. but it's not like he necessarily welcomes the tears, either.

she sniffles, red-rimmed eyes sparkling in a pool of saltwater, and weakly shoves at his chest again.

"f-fuck you, bear," she weeps softly, voice cracking, head hanging, and carmy's never wanted to fix something so badly in his whole goddamn life. more than mikey. "i thought you fucking liked me—

"i do—!"

"stop lying—!"

and suddenly, carmen's had enough.

"be quiet," he barks.

the room falls silent.

he sighs, grips hers arms to keep her close and up right. drops his head to rest on hers, eye-to-eye, and she's too tuckered out to fight it.

his adams apple bobs, "i'm sorry, y/n," he whispers, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him so earnest before, so sad. "i'm sorry i made a bet on you, and hurt your feelings because of it. you're not a toy, or a belt, or any other prize, boxing or not; you're a human fucking being. and i'm sorry."

she sniffles again, and he takes her lack of shoving and yelling as clearance to continue.

"i'm not fucking sorry it worked, though." he can feel her tense, so he hurries on before she gets the wrong idea. "i'm not fucking sorry i saw you in that damn pink dress, in your damn pink heels, with you fucking pink toes. i'm not sorry that i talked to you after the match, and made good on my promise to timmy."

"carmen—"

he squeezes the sides of her shoulders, "i'm not sorry 'cause i do like you, cub, so fucking much."

she lifts her head, teary eyes blearily finding his, and she frowns up at him, like she doesn't believe him.

"why're lying?" she whimpers, all watery and sad sounding, and carmy just wants to swaddle her in a blanket and kiss her tears away.

he smiles gently at her, "m'not lyin', baby. do you think i'd still be here if all i wanted was a fuck and duck? that's what the ring girls are for, cub."

she makes a face at him, "ew! g-ross, carmy, don't—!"

he bites back a smirk. "you drive me insane," cuts her off, sliding his hands from her arms to her shea butter smooth palms. "you drive me up the fuckin' wall, actually. but i love that about you. i love that you don't take anyone's shit, including mine. love that you put me in my place, and tell me off when i step out of line." his tongue peaks out to lick his chapped bottom lip before he continues. "i love the way you curl up in a ball every night before bed because you can't sleep any other way, and i love the way you bitch and moan about your bones feelin' too stiff in the morning because of it." he regards her fondly, eyes flitting over every feature. “i love your teeth gems, and your long ass nails. i love it when you’re bare-faced and bushy-tailed, or when you’ve got a— what is it?”

she chokes on a snotty laugh, “a full beat?”

“a full beat!” he repeats, enthusiastic and beaming. they both take a moment to giggle, carmy’s hands finding purchase on her hips to draw her in, chest to chest. “i am sorry i hurt your feelings, cub, so fucking sorry. but i would make that bet ten fuckin’ thousand times over if it meant i’d end up anywhere with you.”

and now she’s crying for a whole different, much sweeter reason.

she pouts at him cutely, “bearrr!”

and it’s like nothing even happened.

“whaaat?” he groans, feigning annoyance. “snotty girl, look at those tears,” he tuts, “such a crybaby.”

“that’s not fair—!”

“hush,” he muses, walking them back toward her bedroom, deft fingers working to unfasten the many buttons of her dress. “you talk too much, anyone ever told you that? whatever, you should let me fuck you.”

“what?”

“you should let me fuck you.”

“you literally ate me out for an hour before we left, that’s why we were so fucking late. and who says you fuckin’ deserve it?”

carmy smirks, that’s his girl.

fuckin’ trouble.

he quirks a brow at her, fingers pausing their decent.

“you gonna let me earn it?”

—

a/n: hope u like it babies bc getting this done made me SICK (im serious i can’t fucking breathe right or swallow properly anymore 🙂‍↔️🫶🏽)

not proofread!!

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Epilogue

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 7 of 7. 1920 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: Our love story is wrapping up now, dear readers. I hope you have enjoyed. ❤️

Steve just barely manages to contain his snickering from his position curled up on Eddie’s stomach.

He’s spent the last several minutes doing so, while also attempting to sort the disarray that the other man’s long hair had fallen into in their tryst, the brunette curls splayed out haphazardly on the pillow resting behind his head.

Eddie is letting him do both, laid out on his back beneath Steve with a hand thrown over him to cup his bare hip. He’s been poorly pretending for the same amount of time that Steve’s been fussing over him, that he’s not completely out of breath.

The longer that his efforts to be subtle go on, the more Steve’s snickering takes on life, rolling into something akin to actual laughter. He feels like since he’s let Eddie in, that he’s never stopped.

Eddie lets him enjoy it, even as he weakly tells him. “That’s no way to treat your husband after he just showed you a good time, sweetheart.”

Biting his lip in reply, Steve’s touch becomes even gentler as he kisses the slight pudge of Eddie’s belly which has made the world’s most inviting pillow for him. “You are absolutely right, vita mia.”

Eddie smiles fondly down at Steve, raising an eyebrow at the mild surprise of not being corrected, for once. “So…sweetheart’s okay, huh? I like it. Simple but effective.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie’s belly rumbles beneath him with his laughter. “There he is.” Eddie reaches down with the hand not already wrapped around him in order to cradle his jaw. “God, you’re so pretty when you do that. How’d I get so lucky?” He asks.

Steve can’t truly hear what he’s saying - he’s speaking too low - but he can feel the words vibrating beneath his ear as he lays on Eddie…knows that they’re dripping with love.

And it hardly matters what words he offers, when Steve can clearly see in the low glow from the city outside their window when Eddie has mercy on him and signs for him, ‘I love you.’

Steve smiles, and mumbles back. “I love you too.” Warm all over.

And while the two of them had been going at different paces for sure in their efforts to learn ASL. (Robin’s suggestion out of consideration for Steve, who spoke English and Italian both perfectly well, but sometimes missed the answers said back to him.) It was still a happy fact of Steve’s life that the sweet sentiments that Eddie would offer with his hands were never lost to him.

Eddie hums softly then, glancing up as he thinks out loud. “I think I’ve loved you for a while. But I knew for sure when Wayne insisted I fight for us. I was so gone for you, and here you were, with the approval of the person whose opinion matters most. It all solidified for me then.”

Steve melts at his confession, peppering little kisses to Eddie’s tummy that make him giggle. His eyes rake over Steve - tantalizing muscle, little brown moles, and a smattering of freckles all on display but beyond that…There was evidence of Eddie’s love there in Steve’s tan skin. All marked up from his neck downwards, enthusiastic purple splotches where Eddie had taken his tongue and teeth and mapped out his claim on the man atop him, while he asked, “When did you realize?”

“I don’t want to say.” Steve replies, leaving one last little kiss, his tone indicative of his withholding something.

Eddie’s ears perk up at that, “Oh come on!” He teases. “It can’t be that bad. What was it? When you listened to the demo all the way through and realized I’m a bard in the most irresistible of forms?”

“No, not then. But you know I could wax poetic about the sounds you coax out of your guitar.” Steve teases him lightly.

Eddie huffs, “Fine. Not that then…So, what? Did you look at my ass when I bent over to put the little ‘sign here’ tabs on your papers? Couldn’t go another moment without me being yours?”

Steve shakes his head, asking “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!” Eddie all-but shouts.

Steve purses his lips. Telling him mercilessly, “It was when you cried at the end of Free Willy.”

“No!” Eddie gasps, lamenting. “Say it isn’t so.”

“Sorry sweetheart, that’s my moment. I saw you tearing up, and I just knew.” Steve says sheepishly.

“I take it back. I don’t love you, you horrible horrible man. I despise you.” Eddie lies, so much love in his eyes as he says it that Steve almost can’t bear it.

“I despise you more.” Steve replies, as easily as he’d told him he loved him just moments before, the words not holding an ounce of truth, unlike his declaration of said love had.

Eddie snorts, gleefully reminding him. “Hah! Jokes on you. You married me.”

Steve groans loudly in reply, feigning horror as he gasps. “Is it too late to flee the country?”

Eddie makes every effort to sit up at that, wrestling Steve into the bed to tickle him senselessly, until both of them are dissolved in giggles, in full honeymoon bliss.

They had maintained it for a while now, with no signs of stopping.

Con behind them, they had awoken on their wedding day in separate beds as planned, before meeting for photographs, all dressed up for the occasion.

Steve in white, his suit well tailored and - admittedly - a little slutty. It had looked mostly unassuming from the front - with a deep cut that showed off Steve’s bare, hairy chest and an assortment of metal chains borrowed from Eddie and Robin, to Eddie’s utter delight…but then when he’d spun at Eddie’s encouraging wolf whistle and he’d seen the back of it.

Oh the back of it…With an intricate spine of fabric, there were details of climbing lace vines and blooms, skin showing intermittently throughout where the cut strategically showed off the tan planes of Steve’s back…The edge of the suit jacket stopping high enough that Eddie could see how well his pants hugged his ass…the man in white just on the wrong side of smug at how sexy it made him look.

Which, understandably, made Eddie feral.

Eddie, who had been himself swathed in black, in an admittedly simpler suit - but one that boasted a sewn in cape that had flowed behind Eddie like a veil draped across his back.

The black fabric was lined along where it rested on his shoulders, as well as all of its edges, continuing to be further split by that same lining down the middle in a dark, glittering embroidery of those same vines and blooms.

Eddie’s hair was fixed with little buds peeking out in a careful placement, and he wore no rings. Waiting anxiously for Steve to put one on him.

He made an elegant, dark compliment to the borderline sinfully angelic picture that his soon-to-be husband made.

Who, in himself, was not immune to the image - salivating over Eddie, his veins thrumming with his own barely contained lust, the pair of them only staying the course thanks to Johnathan.

Johnathan, the only one they trusted to take the photos for them ever again. Who mercifully dismissed them once they had their shots, only for them to arrive at the courthouse steps one - very handsy - cab ride later.

Flushed, giddy, and happy, they had gotten married from there in a simple ceremony largely outshined by their clothing, with the two required witnesses.

Robin, and Wayne (who Steve had flown in,) had both watched them exchange vows before a judge, and had oh so smugly signed to attest to so.

Steve proudly kept the marriage certificate close when it was done, emotional, while Eddie had found it unreasonably cute, and had kissed him about it.

After posing for a few more photos, taken on Robin’s phone at her insistence, the four of them had all gone out for drinks to celebrate.

In their formal attire and all, Robin and Eddie - or rather, Robin and Batman, played with Eddie’s cape while careening through the city streets like a couple of unhinged toddlers.

Unhinged toddlers whom Steve loved very much, but still. He had merely shaken his head at them and their revelry as Wayne walked with him, their arms linked together as they had been the night of Wayne’s birthday all those weeks ago, when he had paraded Steve proudly in just the same way.

In those moments, when no one could see or hear them, Steve thanked him. For his kindness, his acceptance - and the hand he’d had in making Eddie such a good man.

Wayne had bristled, unable to accept, only thanking Steve for loving his boy. For being brave enough to take that leap, and to have him in a way that linked them all as family from now on.

For better or worse it seemed, Steve was under his wing now - and consequently, so was Robin. A fact made clearer and funnier by the fact that Wayne used that influence to land Robin with the phone number of the prettiest girl in the bar later that night.

Go figure.

By the time the family of four had had their fill of drinks and conversation and had parted ways, Robin went back to her apartment where she would call Steve in the morning stressed about how soon was too soon to call a girl.

In turn the married folks headed off to Central Park West, having sent Uncle Wayne to his hotel…but only after a generous teasing from him, to which Eddie had been snarky in his playful reply.

“Hey, fuck you old man, I bagged Steve Harrington.” Eddie had laughed. Turning from where he was putting his uncle in his cab and shouting loudly. “You hear that world!?! I bagged Steve Harrington! Whoo!”

A random drunkard on the block also whooped, and an embarrassed Steve pulled Eddie along, more eager to get his husband home than he was to encroach on his joy.

Eddie readily obliged him, just as he always had.

The two had then gone home that night, falling into bed at the start of their lives together.

Lives that would look completely different in a few years to be sure, not just from where they had started, or from where they were now, but also from how the two of them had always pictured.

But life is funny that way. And with Eddie’s US tour, and Steve toting around the first of many little nuggets…While it wasn’t the life that they might have planned exactly…

Being together, with their family, their little one eventually seeing the world with them via tour buses (in which Eddie claimed the best seat, always.) And airplanes (where Steve got the window seat, always)…Or whatever mode that she and her eventual siblings would grow up traveling by, and making memories on…

The fact of it was always the same. Eddie and Steve together, two doting dads of a bunch of hellions. Who rapidly signed details about what they’d seen and how they’d been over dinner, whether it was laid out in those tour buses, on the planes, in fancy restaurants, or wherever else they found themselves…The details didn’t matter.

Because as it was, it was the best of both of their dreams. Everything that they had never dared to let themselves want during the years of paper-clips and pointless meetings that could have been emails.

And it was perfect.

— La fine. —

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: Part 6

[runninriot]

Love Is A Polaroid Steddie ficlet | ~2k | cw: implied/referenced self-destructive behaviour, drinking, a little heartbreak before it gets better | happy sappy steddie & platonic stobin

inspired by the insanely talented @inklessletter 's #polaroid series (go check out their art right now!!!)

   "Steeeve, please!" Robin begs. Literally begs.

Like, hands folded together as if in prayer, a pleading look in her eyes, expression as if she's in pain.

   "Robs, no! I don't- that's stupid. I don't feel comfortable with you following us around to take pictures for your- whatever it is." He waves a hand at her dismissively.

   "It's a project, Steve. For my Photography Studies course."

He should know, she already explained that. Told him something about visualizing love in its purest form. Told him she wants to take polaroid pictures of him and Eddie. No posing, just random shots whenever she feels like it. Pictures in black and white - something about using dark tones and deep contrasts to enhance the beauty of simple moments in their day to day life.

   "Whatever. I still don't get why it has to be us?"

Steve is a little frustrated. She's been going on about her wonderful idea for a good few minutes now, not willing to drop the subject no matter how adamantly Steve declines. She knows how shy he gets when he knows someone is taking a picture of him. He hates how he always looks a little off, has never felt very photogenic. So, the mere thought of Robin capturing him in possibly awkward situations with his boyfriend makes his skin crawl.

   "Well, first of all, you are my best friends, so it would mean a lot to have you be part of it. Plus, we live together so I wouldn’t be around you any more than I already am. You wouldn’t even notice. And you two are the perfect motive because-“ Robin’s eyes flicker down to her own feet, unable to hold his gaze.

Her face is suddenly painted with a faint crimson blush. Steve's furrowed brows smooth out and his expressions go soft again when he looks at his best friend's bashful little smile as she looks sheepishly back up at him.

   "You are the perfect motive because I've never seen two people being so in love with each other. Makes me sick how soft and cute you two are, if I'm honest."

Robin chuckles and Steve snorts loudly, both rolling their eyes at the same time because God, when did Robin become such a sap?

   "What you and Eddie have is love in its purest form. It’s unapologetic, honest, and real. It's all I ever want to find for myself. I'm fucking jealous of you, Steve!"

They laugh and Steve ignores the violent tug in his heart caused by her words.

What him and Eddie have really is special. He knows it's some kind of miracle that they've ended up where they are now. It wasn't always that easy. There were times when Steve wanted to just give up. When the world tumbled down and buried him under its weight. When he thought he could never have Eddie like that, wanted to rather die than live life without him.

When Steve realised he had fallen in love with his best friend, his best male friend, he panicked. Finding out he likes boys like he likes girls wasn't even the scariest part. What really took him out was the fear of losing Eddie if he ever told him the truth. For weeks he tried to push his feelings down, tried to cage them behind his ribs but all it did was make him suffer even more. Every time Eddie looked at him, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. Every time Eddie touched him, it left a searing sensation on his skin. Every time they were alone, Steve felt like he was losing his mind, desperately trying to fight the urge to kiss the boy so blissfully unaware of the heartache he caused him. He fought and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore and succumbed to the tormenting ache in his chest. Until he fell into a dark hole.

Steve drifted apart, dulling his feelings with unhealthy amounts of booze. Hunting for warm, willing bodies to sink into. Starving for touch and affection just to feel anything other than the grief-stricken pain of losing the lover he never even had to begin with.

Of course, his self-destructive behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by his friends. Robin tried everything in her power to get through to him. Offered advice and help for all the wrong problems because she couldn’t have known that the real issue was his own fucking mind and his inability to talk about what kept him up at night. What made him so angry and distant and numb.

And then there was Eddie. Sweet, kind, and caring Eddie who couldn’t keep watching his friend ruin his own life anymore. Who gave him an ultimatum – stop hurting yourself or I’ll leave.

Eddie’s words felt like a pistol held to his head, the determination in his teary eyes like a finger ready to pull the trigger. Steve knew he meant it, knew this was his last chance. He would lose the one person that meant everything to him.

   “I can’t lose you, Eddie.”

   “Then let me love you instead.”

He said the words like it was easy. Like it hadn’t nearly cost Steve his sanity to even think them.

Love.

Love you.

   “I love you!”

Steve felt like he was startling awake from a nightmare. One of those where, once you’ve opened your eyes, you instantly forget its horrors. That’s what it felt like when his confession found its way out of his mouth, making the pain of the past months disperse into nothingness.

Eddie had been right there all this time.

Eddie, with tears running down his beautiful face, smiling lovingly at Steve. Eddie, who brought his hands up to each side of Steve’s face before he leaned down and sealed his lips with a bruising kiss. Despair and pain spilling from his mouth as he licked his way inside, forcefully pushing something else in their place. Filling Steve’s insides with warmth and light and happiness. Passion running through his veins, pumping love into his heart, restarting the rotten organ to pick up its once steady beat. Its rhythm hard and fast, growing in size so big Steve felt like it would burst right through his chest.

I. Love. You.

Three simple words were all it took.

All the pain, the suffering, the loveless nights, and dreadful days – they all vanished in the seconds it took to say them out loud.

Three simple words, that seemed so frightening in his mind, so loaded with too much meaning and not enough weight to truly express what he felt.

What he still feels.

Loving Eddie and be loved by him in return is so easy. It’s easy because it just comes naturally. It’s what makes their love so pure, so honest, and true. They have one heart beating in two separate bodies. They are a two-piece puzzle, their curves and edges shaped to fit. A perfect match.

Steve holds out his hands, waits for Robin to take them in hers, and pulls her into a hug.

   “Eddie already said yes, hasn’t he?” Steve says through a defeated smile.

   “Well, his exact words were ‘You’re gonna regret it, Bucks.’ And then he said something about being extra nasty and insufferable just to wind me up. But yeah, he’s on board.” Robin huffs out a laugh.

Steve pulls her tighter, laughs when he practically hears Eddie’s voice in his head, sees his mischievous grin before his inner eye.

Eddie loves to be the centre of attention. Loves to be in the spotlight. Of course, he would be happy to provide himself as vessel for Robin’s artistic outlet.

    The things you do for love, Steve sighs before he agrees.

 

Polaroid #1

Movie night. The three friends are watching some old, trashy horror movie. Steve had a very stressful day at work, can barely keep his eyes open when they’re not even 15 minutes into the movie. He falls asleep on the couch, unbothered by Robin and Eddie’s bickering and laughing. When the movie comes to an end, Eddie leans down to Steve’s resting body, foreheads touching as he takes a moment to just listen to the other man’s calm breathing. ‘Hey baby,’ Eddie whispers softly, ‘time to get up.’ He kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, waits for him to slowly drift out of his deep slumber.

Steve smiles sleepily when he opens his eyes and sees Eddie’s face hovering over him, accepts the gentle press of Eddie’s lips against his own.

   ‘C’mon, darling. Let’s get you to bed.’

   ‘I’m not even tired anymore,’ Steve says, his face scrunched up when he yawns loudly.

   ‘Hmm, I know a way to tire you out, baby. Don’t worry,’ Eddie answers smugly, brushing their noses together before he kisses him again.

Robin makes a gagging sound, but smiles as she takes a picture to capture this soft little moment.

Polaroid #2

Sunday morning. They are all a little groggy from Robin’s early birthday celebrations last night. They’ve been out dancing, downing shot after shot, having an awesome time. Now, the buzz from the night before is gone and makes way for headaches and hangover munchies. Steve promised Robin pancakes in the morning and she’s desperate for him to finally get up and make them. She knocks on their bedroom door and steps in without waiting for an answer. The boys are still in bed. Eddie looks like he just woke up with his frazzled hair hanging into his face, lying half on top of Steve, rubbing his eyes. ‘Just five more minutes’, Steve grumbles, refuses to turn and get up.

It’s her Birthday, sure, and he promised her food she absolutely, definitely needs to soak up the remaining alcohol in her system – but she can give him another five minutes.

When she returns (exactly five minutes later), she captures Eddie and Steve still in bed. Eddie’s lips grazing the skin on his mole-speckled back with a dreamy look in his eyes, while Steve sighs in defeat ‘Alright, Robs. You win.’

The shutter clicks just before he turns around to throw a pillow at her head, causing Eddie to tumble to the side and nearly topple off the bed.

Polaroid #3

Robin sorts through the pile of polaroid pictures she’s taken over the last two weeks:

Steve and Eddie dancing in the kitchen to some dorky love song.

Steve resting between Eddie’s thighs where they lie cuddled up on the sofa, Eddie reading his favourite book to Steve.

Eddie trying and failing to make a handstand, Steve beside him, holding his belly from laughing so hard.

A picture of all three of them on Robin’s birthday, faces covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup after devouring their pancakes like starving animals.

Eddie with his guitar in his lap, Steve sitting on the floor across from him. They share a loving look, eyes full of desire and devotion.

And then- Robin startles in shock. How did that get in here?

She knows she didn’t take that picture. She couldn’t have. Not with the way she already feels the deep blush creeping up her face because- Jesus! That’s entirely too personal. She feels like she’s invading their privacy just by looking at that. This surely isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but theirs.

It’s not like they’re visibly naked but the position of their bodies leaves literally no room for speculations. One of Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s throat  and Steve looks like- well, he looks absolutely fucking blissful. Robin can practically hear the soft moans escaping his parted lips (How she knows what he sounds like, you ask? They swore to never ever talk about that incident ever again).

It looks like Eddie is kissing him. Or maybe he licks his skin. Maybe he whispers some dirty words into his ear, tells him how he’s going to wreck him – who knows? The point is, Robin doesn’t want to know because as much as she adores them, as much as she’s been prying on their sweet moments over the past weeks, there are things that should be kept between them.

She’s going to frame it and surprise them with it. (What she doesn’t know, is that Eddie sneaked that picture into her folder just to tease her. What she also doesn’t know is that there’s a whole collection of more of these kind of pictures hidden in a shoebox under their bed.)

[ghostingtheinternet]

Some LONG overdue fanart for (seriously) one of my favorite fanfics of all time, @pinkrelish ‘s “The Yes Policy”! Had to draw the absolutely darling cuddling scene from the DND game, and the readers�� iconic first introduction to our sweet Adrie♥️ Maybe one of these days I’ll get the courage to draw Eddie’s face😂

I’ve read a lot of fanfic in my day, some would say an unhealthy astounding amount, but this story really takes the cake for plot, pacing, and just overall execution. You would not believe how hard it gets to find writing this high quality sometimes, reading this fic is always like a breath of fresh air. It’s a personal favorite forever, something I always look forward to reading! As always, thank you to @pinkrelish for sharing this work with us!!♥️♥️

[freewayshark]

Teaser Tidbit Tuesday

No one tagged me but I just wanted to share some zombie au anyway. We’re also all gonna pretend I didn’t call this Fuck it Friday even though. It’s Tuesday

“He’s not here,” Buck says, unnecessary since Eddie had watched his search, but it loosens whatever hold the doorway had him in, and he steps into the room.

It’s not all that different than it was when it had been his. The same solid wood furniture set fills the space, but there’s a mismatched ikea desk in one corner that’s new. Next to it is a toy chest with toys that had been here since before they’d left Texas that Christopher had long since outgrown but his parents had kept anyway.

The shelf of Eddie’s high school trophies still hangs over the bed, the bed itself is covered in new bedding that looks like a style Christopher would’ve chosen for himself.

It’s an amalgamation of the two of them that makes his heart ache. But it’s only when he sinks down onto the edge of the bed that he notices what’s missing.

In the months between Christopher leaving and the rest of the world going to shit to match his life, Eddie had spent an unhealthy amount of time in his son’s room. In that time, without really meaning to, he’d come up with a pretty solid catalog of everything Christopher had taken with him to Texas. His laptop, his headphones, the stuffed dog Christopher had acted like he didn’t care about but that had miraculously survived every toy clean out they’d done in the last few years.

He doesn’t see any of that. There’s no laptop on the desk, or headphones, and the dog isn’t on the neatly made bed. The closet is still open from when Buck had checked it, and now that Eddie’s paying attention it’s clear that it was emptied in a hurry, a couple items left half hanging off their hangers, empty hangers littering the floor where they’d fallen when the clothes had been yanked off them.

Tags! @fiona-fififi @transboybuckley @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @eowon @rewritetheending @homerforsure @tenisperfection @colonoscopys

[jespardon]

I saw you answer an ask about nsfw cheavy headcannons and wanted to ask if you had any for good ol sniper? I CANNOT stop brain rotting over the bushman.

Personally i adore the absolute sub sniper hc but im pretty sure im in the minority there.

oh trust me you do NOT want to get me started on nsfw sniper headcanons (/j). my friend eddie and i are out there playing 4d chess with the poor guy's sexuality.

Baaaasically we're going off the assumption Snipes is a cis guy with some amount (?) of gender feelings, a whole lot of denial around his attraction to men, AND socially awkward from spending most of the time alone.

So we're taking this guy who grew up with barely no friends, spent most of his adult time alone, had both infinite time and no real experience to figure out his sexuality, and putting him in a base with 8 handsome sweaty mercs >:)

Sub sniper is absolutely based. Sub sniper that tries to be assertive cause that's what's expected of tall "rough" men like him, but folding under the slightest challenge or teasing back. Sub sniper who is sooo focused on pleasing his partner correctly because he's afraid of messing up a good interaction.

Object based paraphernalias. The guy is a pining machine and loves mementos. A spy's discarded glove, engie's belt, pyro's boots, an empty bottle from demo that he reuses to drink out of and get his lips where demo's were 🥰

So Much Repressed Lust. Probably uncomfortable with his body and the concept of physical attraction so there's a lot of room for angst to fluff to spice here >:] Spy plays with his weaknesses here a lot

When it comes to sniperspy specifically, there's months or even years of those "it's so convoluted is it even sex ?" situations. Fights that turn into feverish fully dressed humping sessions then resume into a fight. Spy getting sniper off fully cloaked then disappearing just as fast. Mind games and knowing glances exchanged.

TW Unhealthy relationship dynamics : we hc that whichever spy we ship him with has a voyeuristic tendency and observes sniper just living his life at first, but eventually witnessing deeply embarassing debased sniper moments. These can even be used later as leverage to coax sniper into not killing him instantly when he eventually intrudes in his van >:3

Which brings us to : first thoroughly sexual encounter between them is initiated by spy breaking into sniper's van and questioning the bushman on why the hell he keeps one of spy's old gloves.

I have a looot more i just barely woke up and need to gather my thougts... And also some of these are better off staying secret for a while so that i may express them through art instead >:3

[calinaannehart]

The Parts We Play - Chapter 9

“And then Miss Greene said she liked my story so much that she wants to put it in the school paper!” Chris practically yells, gesticulating with so much excitement that his cereal bowl goes flying. Buck scrambles to catch the bowl, attempting to limit the amount of milk that gets spilled, and just manages to snag it before it drops over the lip of the table. “Oops, sorry.” Chris winces.

“It’s okay, buddy, you were just excited,” Eddie tells him, grabbing some paper towels and mopping up the puddle of milk and spilled cereal.

“Yeah, no need to cry over spilled milk,” Buck laughs at his own joke, his big dopey grin faltering when Chris just blinks at him, not getting the punchline. “Oh, come on, that was funny.”

“Was it?” Christopher deadpans. Buck lays a hand over his heart and puts on an overacted sad face.

“You wound me, Chris.”

Eddie leaves them to their banter while he cleans up the rest of the mess, the devoted attention Buck is giving his son making his heart sing. He always listens to whatever Christopher tells him with rapt attention, hanging off every word even when the kid trips over them and tells his stories out of sequence. Buck never gets frustrated or looks like he’s had enough of Chris’ attention, always happy to build ‘just one more’ Lego sculpture or play ‘one last round’ of Mario Kart.

They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, he and Buck as well as the three of them together, and it’s clear that Christopher is enamored with the man and not just because Buck played his favorite superhero. Buck has time for him.

Buck’s schedule has been pretty full on, runs of sixteen-hour filming days, with sessions with his personal trainer and various press appearances sandwiched between. It’s left Eddie wondering when Buck finds time to eat or sleep, he either has limitless energy or survives on an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

“Are you excited for next week?” Buck asks as Eddie clears the last of the cereal, pushing Christopher’s bowl back toward him as a prompt to finish his breakfast.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” He shrugs, leaning down to steal a bite of Buck’s toast as he lifts it to his mouth. Christopher hadn’t questioned why Buck was already at his house when he woke up that morning, it’s not the first time he’s joined them for breakfast. In the three weeks since the gala, he’s stayed over as often as he can as long as he’s not on a night shoot and Eddie isn’t working.

It's been nice. Really nice, in fact, snuggling under the covers with someone again. Eddie’s never been a touchy-feely type of person, not even with Shannon. He enjoyed it when they did touch, whether it was with or without clothes, but he’s never really needed that physical contact as much as some people do. As much as Buck seems to. But he hadn’t quite realized just how much he missed the feeling of skin on skin, the opportunity to explore another body with his fingers, his lips, or his tongue.

Read on AO3

If you like please support my work and reblog!

[danosrosegarden]

NSFW Alphabet - Angel!Edward Nashton

Contains: headcannons about my version of Edward Nashton from the "Angel" series!

Note: I've never done a NSFW alphabet yet! I hope you enjoy this little preview of what's to come in future chapters. ;-)

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

The aftercare is mostly focused on him. He needs to be held, needs to be told he did so, so good for you. But rest assured, he'll do whatever to make sure you're comfortable. You just have to let him know what you need.

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

Angel Eddie likes to pick himself apart until he's nothing but raw bones. A favorite part of himself? He loathes most all of it. He supposes he can appreciate his hands, though. They're nice and veiny. On you? Oh, how could he choose? If you've got tits, he can't get enough of touching them, resting his head on them, squeezing the squishy flesh. He's also a big thigh fan. He likes to run his hands along the soft, plush skin. Just to feel your warmth provides him an immense amount of comfort.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

Angel Eddie is obsessed with cumming inside of you. Not only does it feel incredible, but he loves to pull out and watch his warm cum drip from you. It's such a gorgeous sight for him.

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

He gets off on getting jealous. To know other people have had you before both gets him fuming and serves as furious masturbation material.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

No experience. He masturbates constantly and watches an unhealthy amount of porn (even though he despises it. He stops watching it completely when you come into the picture), but he's never had the opportunity present itself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Angel Eddie loves watching you ride him. It's such a breathtaking spectacle, watching your hips swivel and buck.

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

Sex is a very serious thing for Angel Eddie. He's never trusted anyone like this before. It's going to take him a long while to loosen up and have fun with it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

The carpet matches the drapes here, baybee. He doesn't care too much about trimming himself, and he doesn't care about your hair situation, either.

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

He's such a hopeless romantic...maybe even a little unnervingly so. He'll grip your hips with trembling hands and spit about how you're his, his, only his.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

All. The. Time. You'd think it would get better when you come into the picture, but he actually does it even more (take it as a compliment...the memory of you is his fuel!). Definitely at least once a day, and many times it's more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I could make a whole other post about this one! Angel Eddie is a major sub. He loves doms who are just a teensy bit mean to him. He also loves overstim and lovebiting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He's not sharing, so don't even think about doing it in public. Nobody else gets to enjoy you once you're together. It's only happening behind closed doors. However, he's down for any room in the apartment. The bedroom! The bathroom in the shower! On top of the kitchen counter! The possibilities are...not endless, but there's a few.

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

Like I mentioned before, learning about your past as a sex worker gives him something to prove. He feels as though he has to prove he's better than anything your clients could've dreamed of offering you.

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

No threesomes. He is absolutely not down for sharing.

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

He prefers to give. Not that he doesn't adore receiving, because he sure does. But lord, how beautiful you sound when he's swirling his tongue around you. How gorgeously in tune those groans come pouring out from your mouth. He may not be the best at first, but he's a quick learner. He memorizes the moves and swipes that make you twitch and saves them in the back of his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Usually slow and sensual. The pace is really up to you. If you want him to give you something rougher, he's incredibly nervous, but he really just wants to please you however he can.

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

Not a fan. He wants quality time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

He's down to experiment, but he would prefer if you were the one making decisions for him.

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

You might think he'd cum the instant he gets inside of you...but when he masturbates, he likes to edge himself all the time, sometimes denying himself of an orgasm altogether. So, he can last for as long as you need him to.

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

Angel Eddie loves toys, especially if you're using them on him. Peg him, stroke him, place a little bullet vibe on his sensitive nipples. He goes crazy for it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't really like teasing you. If you're the one teasing him, though? Oh, yeah. He likes that quite a bit. Yes, he needs constant reassurance. But he also loves getting humiliated and made to feel like a freak (only by you).

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

Loud boy. High pitched whimpers and whines, always begging for just a little bit more.

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

He's similar to most of the Eddie's on this site in that he's an underwear thief. He likes to wrap them around his own throbbing cock while he strokes himself (he's thinking about you, of course).

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

Angel Eddie is smaller than average. You, of course, have no problem with his size...you just want him.

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

So high. He wants it constantly. But he would absolutely never pressure you into sex if you didn't want it. You're usually the one initiating it, anyway.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's a sleepy guy. He wants to receive and give aftercare, but after he checks that you're all comfortable and feeling good, he's conked out. Sleep well, nasty little perv. <3

[strwbrrylou]

Who’s your most favorite character out of every fandom you’re in?

i love this question!!! growing up I've been in A LOT of fandoms that def shaped who i am today 😭 but most of them are dead. I'll just list some that r kinda active/still think about

1. Viktor from Arcane

Okay, Caitlyn comes in 2nd. But he's my most favorite. I initially loved him for his grumpy attitude and his accent (who doesn't) but his childhood story made me fall in love with who he is a little bit more. :')) i like how he's dedicated to his work and how he decided to take the risk in helping Jayce when it came to magic. this guy's an inventor, a scientist, and a dreamer. and i love those types of people!!! anyway i just want him to be happy

2. Reigen from Mob Psycho 100

i LOVE this unhinged man. everything is perfect about him even though he is literallt imperfect. loved his chatlracter development the most. anyway its reigen so i dont think i have to explain why hes my favorite.

i also just want him to be happy

3. Fischl from Genshin

She's one of my first characters in the game and even though her stats aren't that good i keep trying to let her be part of the team 😞 im too attached to her. She's pretty and im obsessed with her design but i loved her antics and silliness the most. she is jus like me forrreeall. i love beidou too (i love strong pirate boss woman<3) but fischl is just a character i relate to more. I ALSO WANT HER TO BE HAPPY!!!

4. Madoka from Madoka Magica

5. Eddie from IT

6. Will Graham from Hannibal

7. Miss Pauling from TF2

OKOK GUYS i have actually never played TF2 BUT THE COMIC AND FANON STUFF ARE SOO GOODD.. and Miss Pauling?! i love her an unhealthy amount....... oh my god i want her likensjaiaoaois SHE WAS MY FAVORITE IN THE SERIESS. shes so cute and she tries her best always 🤧 medic comes in 2nd.

8. Aziraphale AND Crowley from Good Omens

9. Chase AND Buddy from Cinderella Boy

need i say more

alsoooo honorable mentions from dead/other fandoms

- Jaehee from Mystic Messenger

- Haruhi from OHSHC

- Yamaguchi from Haikyuu!!

- Bill from Gravity Falls

- Fluttershy from MLP

- Tubbo from DSMP (yes i had a phase)

- Canada from Hetalia (this is embarrassing)

- Roxy AND Wallace from SPVTW

[munsonslove]

The amount of times I've re-read making deals and I waited all day is bordering on unhealthy. I get goosebumps every time it's insane! I'd really like to request some smut about Eddie finding out reader has had her nipples pierced. Reader's pretty much all healed up but very sensitive and finding it hard to stay quiet and keep it together the more Eddie fondles her after she lets him see and feel them for the first time. Bonus points if he's a tease about it too like maybe not exactly too rough with her but not exactly gentle either? he just wants to make a mess of her with his hands and mouth

Pierced

(18+ only)

a/n: sorry this took 7000 years i have no excuses. anyways thank you so much ily <3

summary: After getting your nipples pierced, you were anxious about being judged by the first person to see them. Thankfully, that person was your best friend who was ecstatic over them.

wordcount: 3.1k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, softdom!Eddie, friends to lovers, smut, first times, nipple piercings, praise kink, degradation, cum eating/tasting, fingers in mouth, choking, hair pulling, p in v penetration, size kink, no use of y/n

For the first time ever, Eddie was speechless.

The day had started off like any other. You woke up much earlier than you would have preferred and sold your soul to capitalism for eight hours before heading off to the trailer park. Eddie gets home from school around the same time as your shift ends, and he would always immediately get to work rolling so that there’d be a joint ready by the time you pulled up. Since Wayne didn’t have work until later and wasn’t a fan of you two smoking inside, you ditched your tiny little car in favor of riding shotgun as Eddie drove his van to Skull Rock. That was when the unexpected happened.

As usual, he made his attraction toward you clear with his flirtations, and after so many years of a will-they-won’t-they relationship, you finally cracked. You’d been fighting this battle for far too long and decided that the risk of messing up the friendship you both built together was worth it for a chance at something more. Eddie was predictably stoked with your acceptance of his advances and things escalated very fast. Before you knew it, your back was pressed against cool stone and your shirt was crumpled up several feet away from you on the forest floor. Eddie pulled the cups of your bra down under your chest and made a move to kiss your now exposed breasts, but suddenly stopped, staring at them with wide awestruck eyes.

You were already aware of what caused this reaction, and you had been worried about it from the beginning. At the start of the year you’d gone through a rebellious streak that had resulted in several changes in your appearance. Dyed hair, new clothes, even a couple stick-and-poke tats that Eddie was more than thrilled to administer. But there was one change that everyone else in your life had been none the wiser to, and that was the piercings. You had seen models in porno mags and videos that had metal rods and rings adorning their nipples, and you’d always been so intrigued by the look. It struck you as liberating and powerful, feelings that you strived for after venturing off into the world of adulthood on your own. When you got them done you were single and not looking for any hookups, but you were still a little self conscious about coming off as slutty and being judged by the first person who got to see them. The idea of that person being Eddie kept you up at night on several occasions.

“Eddie?” you asked quietly, too nervous to speak any louder than a whisper but still desperate to break him from his trance, “You still with me?”

“You have nipple rings,” he said, stating the obvious with a stunned tone.

“Um… yeah. I do,” you responded. Your face felt warm despite the chilly evening air, and his unreadable expression did nothing to qualm your anxiety.

Finally, he looked back up and you felt the weight fall off your shoulders when he smiled wide. “You’re so fucking sexy. I think you’re trying to kill me.”

“I actually prefer you alive,” you laugh as you tuck a curly strand of hair behind one of his ears.

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he bends his neck to finish what he previously intended, and delicately places his tongue on your right nipple. He’s testing the waters, clearly unfamiliar with the feeling of metal being involved in this process, and he doesn’t want to be too rough right off the bat out of concern for your comfort. Once he realizes the punctures we’re no longer sore, he becomes more assertive with his licking, and you become louder with your moaning. Even though everything was healed, you’ve found that you’ve become much, much more sensitive after getting the piercings. Just the tiniest bit of teasing when you were alone at night- with only your thoughts of long haired, tattooed, metalheads keeping you company- was enough to have you on the edge of orgasming. You’re sure that if he tried, Eddie could make you cum this way, and the hint of a smirk between the valley of your breasts told you that he suspected this as well.

His lips leave your skin and look at you curiously as you tug at his hair, pulling him off of you and pushing yourself off of the stone. He watches as you reach behind yourself to unclasp the hooks of your bra. After he realizes what you’re doing, Eddie quickly assists you in sliding the straps down your arms and letting the bra fall to the ground by your shirt. The cold and hard surface of the rock shocks you when he pins you with his body and his lips attack yours hungrily. His hands knead the fat of your now naked chest, and every so often his fingertips will fiddle with the rings pierced through your nipples. You were so sensitive after the bout of teasing you’ve already endured that that alone had you close. And to make matters worse, in addition to his constant praises of ‘you have the most perfect tits ever’, Eddie’s rock hard cock was tenting in his jeans and rubbing against your thigh. You pushed the teetering threat of orgasm out of your mind and spoke aloud your desires.

“Eddie,” you whine, “I want you inside me. Now.”

His hands are shoving down your jeans in an instant- not even pausing to undo the button- as you futilely attempt to push off his jacket and yank his t-shirt up his torso at the same time. Once your pants were settled under the curve of your ass, he shrugged off his jacket and pulled off his shirt, tossing them both to the side. Then, he continued his mission of trying to get your legs bare. Kneeling down, he took your hands and placed them on his shoulders, instructing you to hold them for balance as he lifted the first foot up. Luckily your boot laces were only for show and there was a zipper on the side, so he is able to take them off pretty easily. The forest floor is uncomfortable to stand on with only socks, so Eddie lays the previously discarded leather flat on the earth under your feet as he finally unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs.

Eddie gets back up as you shake the denim off of your ankles, and he uses the sides of his feet to push down the back of his shoes and kick them off. His belt and jeans join the ever growing pile of clothes gathering beside you two, and after years of friendship and pining, you both stand before each other in only underwear. Soft lips meet your own once more before your body is spun around, easily controlled by his firm hold on your sides. Your feet are planted about two feet from the wall, and Eddie bent you forward with his palm between your shoulder blades until your cheek was pressed flat against the stone.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked right through your cute little panties,” he says as the pad of his thumb rubs down the damp crotch of your underwear before he tugs them down in one swift motion. “Waited so long for this, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

His words have a heaviness settling in your chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves. The hand on your back loses contact as he steps away to rifle through his pants’ pockets, and he returns to his place behind you after finding what he was searching for. It’s hard to look back while bent over, but you can hear him moving, and the fabric of his boxers hit your ankles as they fall down his legs. The knowledge that he was completely nude and just a hair’s breadth away has your already leaking cunt weeping with even more arousal, and the mess accumulating between your thighs would be humiliating if you weren’t so turned on. You manage to get a glance of what was happening over your shoulder- Eddie sliding a condom down his achingly hard cock. It’s longer and thicker than anyone you’d been with before, enough so to rival most porn stars. Suddenly, his overconfidence in flirting with you makes complete sense. The sight of something that had been the star of many late night fantasies has your stomach fluttering in anticipation as you clench around nothing. His eyes lock with yours, and there’s a wild look in them. With the condom fully on, he smiles toothily at you one last time then steps forward and grips your waist with fervor.

The head of his cock runs up and down over your folds with the guidance of his hand around the shaft, and each time it hits your clit you let out an involuntary whimper. He starts poking at your hole lightly. Just little taps, trying to reduce you to begging- and it was working.

“Please, Eds,” you whine, voice high pitched and pathetically needy, “Please fuck me.”

He huffs out some laughter behind you, but there’s no amusement present. It was more of a ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me’ type of laugh. “Okay, sweets,” he says through a smile, “gonna give my girl what she needs.”

And with that, his cock finally breaches the threshold and buries itself deep in your cunt, surrounding itself with your burning hot walls. He enters you quickly, fully sheathing himself while still angling toward that sweet spot inside that would have you seeing stars. Pelvis now flush with the back of your thighs, Eddie is able bend over slightly and reach his mouth between your shoulder blades, and he happily starts leaving short little wet pecks all over your back. When his lips lose contact with your skin, his warm breath breezing over the saliva left behind from his messy love bites sends shivers down your spine.

“Are you ready?” he asks, almost deadly quiet. Only the fact that he was still pressed against you allowed you the capability of being able to hear him.

Truthfully, without the foreplay of his fingers stretching you out, a little extra time to get accustomed to his impressive size would have been helpful. Even though you knew this logically, physically you were unable to hold off any longer. Besides, you could feel how the head of his cock throbbed where it lingered not far from your cervix, so you could tell that Eddie was just as desperate for the inevitable mindless pleasure as you were.

“Yes!” you call out, your hands balling into fists. “Always ready for you, Eds. Now, please!”

He kisses you gently one last time at the very top of your back, using his delicate touch to softly brush the hair off of your neck for access. “Okay,” he whispers, “I got you now.”

After that, his hips started moving at a languid rhythm with his entire length pulling out almost completely before being sunk back inside you. It wasn’t enough, and you started grinding back against him. Leaning forward when he pulled out and slamming back when he thrusted in, trying to heighten the intensity as much as possible. Your efforts weren’t long lasting, however, as Eddie’s grown out fingernails almost broke skin on your waist when he grabbed you tightly and halted any movements beside his own.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he tutted mockingly as he continued his torturously slow pace. “Take what I give you like a good little slut.”

That snuffed out any complaints that were making their way out of your subconscious. Sickeningly sweet sighs passed through your lips as Eddie snaked his hand around your side to your front, the cool metal of his rings contrasting nicely with the warmth between your legs. Fingertips prodded teasingly at your engorged clit, the pad of his index finger tapping the center a few times then rubbing it slowly from side to side before pulling off. A string of your slick arousal connects him to your center before it breaks, and he raises his hand to your eyeline to show you the glistening mess you left behind. He made the ‘okay’ hand gesture before carefully flexing it into a finger gun, successfully stretching the glossy wetness he pulled from your center into taunt ropes that snapped and landed in the pinch of skin between his thumb and pointer. The visual evidence of the effect he had on you made your stomach flip. You'd like to claim it was due to embarrassment, but you knew all shame was smothered by lust. 

His dirtied fingers run along your lower lip, and slide into your mouth when your jaw drops. The taste of you being so evident on him was fogging up your senses as his tendrils explored the inside of your mouth, dangerously teasing deeper toward your gag reflex. No pity was taken on your throat as he sunk further in, until you were coughing around him with drool pooling out of your mouth and down your chin. His hands leave your mouth, trailing dampness as they travel to your neck and take purchase there. This assists him in grinding against you as he impales you with his dick more forcibly than before. Low grunts steadily increasing in volume escape your throat rhythmically as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Speaking of your head, it falls forward when Eddie releases your neck, only to be yanked back upright by his fist tightening in your hair.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he boasts, smugness obvious even in his dirty talk. “Like being stuffed to the brim with my cock out here in the open? Where anyone could see what a desperate fucking whore you are?”

“Like it so much, baby,” you confirm between moans, “Fucking love it.”

“God, your tight little cunt is just sucking me in. Tell me how it feels,” he demands. There’s a stinging sensation when he uses his hold on your hair to twist your neck, turning it so that the side of your face would be visible.

“So good,” you answer, and- unable to say anything else- you repeat, “so good, so good, so good.”

“Come on, angelface. You can do better than that, can’t you? For me?” he cooed deceptively sweetly, “I wanna hear more about how good my perfect girl feels with her pussy being pumped full of me. Can you do that for me?”

Determination fills you, an eagerness to please your man that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar given how easily Eddie is able to force your submissive side out. You nod your head wildly before speaking.

“It’s amazing. You’re so fucking big, Eds. I can feel you everywhere.” The echo of your voice bouncing off the stone wall in front of you forces you to notice how erotic your words are. You sound absolutely lewd, but you can’t help it.

“Good girl,” he compliments with a hum. “A pretty thing like you deserves to cum all the time, deserves to never worry about a thing and just be used as a fucktoy over and over. You want that? For me to fuck you ‘til you cry for me to stop?”

“Yes, Eddie, oh my god. Want that so bad! Feels so good being used by you like this!” you wantonly call out, unable to control your yelling as the pressure inside you builds at an alarming rate and threatens to release. “Fuck, baby. I- I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum!”

The tugging at your hair ceases as his hand returns to your clit, circling it with as much focus as he can muster. His other hand abandons its position on your waist as it reaches forward to toy with the rings of your piercings and run the perky nubs between his fingers. Sharp teeth nip your back before his rough tongue soothes the sting.

“Cum for me,” he orders, growling. His speed circling your sensitive clit and pummeling into you remains unchanged, but his pinches become harsher on your nipples. “Cum all over my big cock like the naughty fucking slut you are. Soak me with your juices. Show me how much you love being filled up by me.”

“Love it so much!” you exclaim as the dam within you breaks, spiraling you headfirst into intense orgasmic relief.

Ripples of shock waves flow through your body, starting from your center and vibrating their way down each limb. The sounds of both of your moaning mix together like music as Eddie’s cock twitches inside you, releasing his seed into the condom. He’s relentless, keeping his fingers playing with you throughout the duration of your climax, riding it out for all its worth and overstimulating you. You’re split open one last time as he buries himself balls deep in you again and just holds there, allowing the two of you to catch your breaths. Mercy is taken when his fingers stop their motions and ease up on your sensitive clit and nipples, his arms now instead wrapping around you and tightening into a strong hug. Faintly, a small fraction of your brain recognizes the feather soft touches of his lips grazing your neck, but most of your mind is too far gone to really feel it. Eddie slowly pulls out of you with the most obscene squelching sound you’ve ever heard, and your face heats with embarrassment when you realize that mess was all yours considering he had worn a condom.

“I got you, baby,” he says airily while he helps you fight against your weakened composure and stand straight once more.

You turn to face him, your grip tight on his forearms as your knees threaten to give out with their buckling. Delicate caresses ghost over your cheekbone, soft as a butterfly landing, and the sensation impossibly covers your arms with even more goosebumps than the cool temperature of the evening already did. With eyes unfocused, you can’t actually see the lovesick expression Eddie is gracing you with, but the gesture alone fills you with the giddy elation of a schoolgirl as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out in the middle of the woods. He leans forward and kisses you passionately one last time, then ignores your lips following his when he pulls away in favor of speaking.

“Let’s get you dressed up so I can ride us back to mine,” he says, smiling at your attempts to reconnect your mouths. “It should be empty by now, and I’m not quite done with you yet.”

[ilovejasonschwartzmansomuch]

since i've seen people talking about whether or not the rocky horror picture show is good representation relatively recently (sorry i'm slow to these things) i thought i could throw my hat into the ring since i've watched it an unhealthy amount of times this week. a lot of people question whether or not they should look up to or idolize frank n furter due to him being such an iconic character but horrible person at the same time. i think that it really depends. my whole interpretation of rhps is that every character is flawed (except for a select few). everyone is a victim but not exactly angels themselves.

brad and janet are victims of the events that night but at the same time their wrong-doings aren't always caused from it. janet and brad (more so the former) both cheat on each other. it makes me wonder if their car never broke down they still would've cheated. brad seems to have a lot more regret (once in a while), but janet, even before the start of act two responding more flirtatiously to frank and rocky ("i'm a muscle fan!" dude your fiance is right there), doesn't have any real regret. i mean, it's good that she discovered herself. that's awesome, but i just feel so awful for brad. anyways this leads to the two being completely lost and filled with guilt at the end of the movie.

frank is probably the more complex. hes free of the chains of society, being him with no restraint, cross-dressing and being sexually liberated. this freedom also frees him from the other things society shuns (murder, assault, cannibalism, etc). you feel empathy for him before his death because he can't be himself, expressing his gender and sexual identity that society punishes, but it also feels just because of all of his negative aspects. your'e rooting for him but he also disgusts you.

this two-faced nature extends to the majority of the characters. dr. scott is caught in the middle of this whole affair with brad and janet just because he wanted to help his delinquent nephew, but he's an ex-nazi scientist, a person who would view everyone who was in the castle that night as the lowest of scum. riff raff and magenta are poorly treated frank and are the people who finally put him in his place. they're also incestuous (really pat and richard?)! eddie had his brain chopped up, got killed, cooked, and eaten by frank. at the same time he's junk. the transylvanians know that frank isn't the greatest of people but still choose to party with him. i would say they don't really have a choice, the castle being one of the only places they can express themselves freely.

this leads me to talk about columbia. she only wanted to be somewhere she could be her, even if there were flaws in her environment it was still better than wherever she came from. she wanted to love and be loved by both frank and eddie. this, however, didn't come without its consequences. the only other characters I would say aren't like the rest are rocky and the criminologist. rocky was just born so he has no idea what's going on. the criminologist isn't even in the story he's just the narrator.

anyways that's just my thoughts. i've seen too many people as of late saying "boo frank is bad boo" leading them to view the movie as bad. that's the whole point. he's awful. he's supposed to be awful. all of these people are awful. it's a satire on how conservatives view the queer community.

isn't fun though? seeing these characters express themselves while being a little more than morally gray? i'd say so. long story short: this musical slaps. you just gotta understand that you aren't supposed to look up to these guys.

[buck-up-buck]

HMMMMMM

Ya'll can blame @theredrenard for this because I was told specifically to stop manifesting this, so guess. what.

HERE IS ME CONTINUING TO MANIFEST IT.

So, as per my post HERE I talked about the potential to burn Buck's loft down. Now, again, you don't have to tell me twice about how AO3 this theory is, I have been in this fandom since day one and I have read an unhealthy amount of fanfictions with this plot line, but, indulge me a second, will you?

So, at the beginning of the season I know that SOMEWHERE, there was a scene where there was a housing market crisis headline on the TV in the background, but I cannot for the life of me find it, so here is a screenshot of a post I saw talking about it!

We also have the scene where Buck is touring Harbour with Tommy at the start of 7x04 and Tommy mentions that he sometimes responds to "high-rise fires."... interesting Tommy; do you sense a high-rise fire in your near future to save you boyfriend, huh, HUH?!?

AND THEN, we have Buck at the end of 7x04 before Tommy knocks on the door seemingly going through paperwork, bills maybe? This, accompanied with the housing market crisis SCREAMS that Buck is maybe having issues with paying rent, or with living in the loft in general and is potentially looking for an out?

Now. all of these combined alone are enough to see a potential storyline to do with the loft (and it burning down, cough cough), but what really sealed the deal was Eddie's comment in the last episode (7x07).

Eddie walking in and commenting that he could smell smoke, with Buck telling him the new recipe he is working on is cracking him, rubbed me the wrong way. What a STRANGE way to word that scene. AND THEN, Buck looking up at the ceiling, where I assume the smoke detector is, all confused as if it should have been going off, but wasn't, is potentially foreshadowing issues with the building.

NOW, all of this together, SCREAMS a storyline to do with Buck's loft, the scene in 7x07 just solidifying a potential fire even moreso.

I will admit, I have changed my mind on Amir's involvement in the fire. I now highly doubt this man would go through all this effort to burn down an apartment complex, after suffering such a loss in one himself, and would not go out of his way to injure innocent people. BUT, what I do think however, is that his conflict with Bobby is going to potentially do some more foreshadowing for the loft potentially burning down.

I doubt Amir would use the words as direct as "karma is a bitch", but I do think sentences like...

"The universe has a wicked sense of payback." "Life has a way of serving up its own brand of justice." "In the end, karma is a flame that burns with the heat of our actions."

that all basically SCREAM, fire. And this makes Bobby super anxious but Amir is gone, he is either over it and has moved on with his lil ominous departure, or he's been arrested for his conflict with Bobby, and Athena is like, "he is gone, that man is gone from our lives." and Bobby settles because she is right, it's fine. everything is fine.

Until it isn't.

Until something happens that causes Buck's loft to go up in flames and all Bobby can think about is, fuck, this is my karma, and he is like, no, I will save my son, and he goes all badass and he gets Buck outta there.

Below are my messages in my beloved 9-1-1 server that I sent literally as that scene in 7x07 was playing out in front of me, including a 46-second-long VN about why that comment from Eddie just, didn't sit right with me.

ANYWAY, hope you enjoyed. As always, let me know what you think. Am I crazy? Am I onto something? At this point, I don't even know anymore but I am having so much fun terrorising the Clown Car that now I just do it for the bants.

Whenever anyone sees me type "I HAVE A THEORY" they all immediately log off, it's so weird.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

FIC UPDATE: Things We're All Too Young to Know

Hello - we are getting SO close to passing canon. I am so excited.

Anyway, here is another chapter.

Summary:

Determined to make the most of his second chance at life, Buck tries to have the perfect date with Natalia. Meanwhile, Eddie is desperate to move on. Scenes and missing scenes 06x17: Love Is In the Air

Snippet:

“I feel like I might as well get it all out in the open,” Buck says, sighing, as they sit down at the table. “Uh, because, this all probably looks pretty bad.”

“No,” Natalia shakes her head. “It doesn’t look bad, Buck. We’re in our thirties. We’ve obviously both dated other people. Though books have not been written about me. Yet.”

He laughs a little. This is his chance to brush it off, then. 

Buck’s stupid ass mouth does no such thing. 

“Well you know my whole thing with my family,” Buck says.

Natalia blinks. “Uh, yeah.”

“Basically I left home pretty young, was on my own f-for a long time, kind of, uh, dated an unhealthy amount to deal with that. I moved around the country, I even moved to Peru. Ended up here, joined the LAFD, fell in love with a decently older woman, moved in with her way too soon after her mother died, and then she went to Europe, fell in love, and did not come back.”

“Whoa,” Natalia exhales.

“B-but since then, I’ve only had two serious relationships. Ali, who I really liked but who dumped me when a ladder truck crushed my leg, and Taylor, who… Well. Yeah. Is writing a book about our time together, I guess. There was a serial killer involved, kinda? Is he a serial killer? I don’t know if he fits the definition perfectly. Anyway.”

Natalia blinks. “Serial killer?”

“I’ve been single for like a year.” Buck finishes. 

He decides not to mention his longstanding, futile infatuation with Eddie. She doesn’t need to know about that. Nobody needs to know about that. 

“So, too much?”

---

Tagging @epicbuddieficrecs as a lil notification 🫡 - lemme know if you want to be added to the tag list for my writing updates!

[daniclaytcn]

To touch upon the other anon, if Eddie and Chris are both in danger and Buck could only save one person at a time he would obviously save Chris first. But would he run back to get Eddie? Even if that means there is a 85% chance that they will both die?

GOD. let me tell you, i have thought about this scenario an unhealthy amount. and i really don't have an answer for you. obviously buck's first instinct would be to go back in. but then he'd have to think of chris. but then he'd have to think of chris standing there watching him not go after his father. but then he'd have to do what's best for chris. but then—

i honestly do not know how someone would make a choice like this. how buck would. 911 writers you have the opportunity to write the most stressful conflict on the show yet.

[gh0stlyfixation]

Hi everyone!

This is a side blog, meaning I cannot respond to commets, however, my person blog is @sm2020 and sometimes I respond from that

USED TO BE Mikaelsonblog2-0

THIS IS A 18+ page, MDNI because I do write and share smut, but you can also find some fluff and angst

Reminder: I write mature themes sometimes so please make sure your community settings are adjusted so you can see posts with the mature label on them if you are over 18!!! I wish tumblr would make this more public so more people knew.

Im currently fixating on Simon Riley so I apologize 😅

Ao3 is: Catrinam20

I’m going to be making some changes to this blog.

Keeping up with the trends (mostly my obsessions), I’m going to be making this a multifandom page. Here’s who I’ll be writing for:

James “Bucky” Barnes

Steve Rogers

Eddie Brock/Venom

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Johnny “Soap” McTavish

König

Captain John Price

Daemon Targaryen

Harwin Strong

If there is another character you’d like me to write about in any of these fandoms, please go ahead an request it! More than likely I will write it.

Just a reminder: I do get your request! I’m very slow though because I’m a perfectionist and sometimes get writers block 😭 so if you have requested something and you haven’t seen it, I’m working on it! I don’t want anyone thinking I’m ignoring them or never got it, I just want it perfect for you. I also work an unhealthy amount of time so that plays a big part on why I'm slow at writing.❤️❤️❤️

Rules and info:

This is a 18+ page, MDNI! I can’t stress this enough.

I will not write about reader being stalked by said character. Will not write a yandere character, something about a extremely possessive man to the point of being an unhealthy relationship does not excite me. I will not write about reader being kidnapped and held against there will by said character. I will write possessive or protective, but the character knows you are your own person and if the character ever wanted to leave him, it’s okay to do so.

I write mostly female, however I try to keep things gender neutral. I can write for male, I can’t promise it’ll be good. Just be clear in your request🤍

I post regularly, but I don’t post on weekends because that’s when I work more on request. I also post as I finish fics. There will be grammar mistakes🥹

Thank you💙