#Of course he wants to taste a hot chick

[acourtofthought]

“The other side” acting as if their girl will make Az wanna live while he wants to die for Elain (imagine thinking this ain’t the most important sign that he loooves her) trying to make it seem like that’s a sign of how wrroooong Elriel are for eo. 💀💀💀

BABESSSSS, the only thing he wants to live for is his flower Elain, and… her OTHER flower. 👀 To taste the nectar. 🌸

(Feyre begging Az to get Elain to safety and Az ignoring her so he could help Feyre).

(Az being willing to risk his and Elain's life for a girl he doesn't know)

(Az giving zero shits about the supposed love of his life as he prepares to run back into danger while injured)

(Az once again not caring about the danger he'd be putting himself in)

What did we learn class?

Az is willing to risk his life for literally everyone and his desire to taste the "nectar" of Elain is really not something special considering he's enjoyed quite the number of others. I wonder how many secret lovers he's had since he met Elain. Your "forbidden love" trope simply turns Elain into a secret just like the rest.

Not to mention he stared at Mor with heat and yearning while Elain sat in the room with him after the events of ACOWAR, that's your idea of love? 🤔

You should be less focused on Az putting another notch in his belt and more concerned with why he put more thought into planning for a snowball fight than how he might have a future with Elain.

Class dismissed.

[robolvrr]

I love love looove the way you write!! I'm 22- and i wanted to ask about your Headcanons for a bi bumblebee.

He's always been proud of looking good, so maaaybe you could give him an opportunity to show off? A car show, or maybe a car wash could be fun.

hot motor oil ☆∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

hahaaa fffkxzkdk. bet! you speaking my language, anon.

bumblebee x gn! human headcanons.

warnings: suggestive/nsfw. exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism.

bumblebee when on earth at his prime is cocky, playful and a thrill-seeker.

while the inability to vocalize is a sore subject, he's never been insecure about his appearance. he's considered very attractive wherever he goes, cybertron and otherwise.

much to optimus's disapproval, he takes the time to find the newest speedsters to scan regularly throughout the decades.

while he's particular with what automobiles he claims, there's a clear taste for flashy, fast horsepower.

he adores weaving between traffic, secret drag races, because the racers and humans react. it's either anger, frustration, awe or jealousy. makes his chassis get all warm knowing that just being in his alt-modes gains attention without applying much effort.

the thing is though - he does. constant buffing. avoids mud like the plague and never gets insects stuck in his grills. his bumper never gets scuffed and he might have found a car wash or two with easy on the optic workers who gladly accept fat tips and rub between his panels and exterior with feather light touches.

they don't look too much through his tinted windshield or question the pink fluids collecting near the drain when he zips off.

when he meets you, he's almost shaking when he learns of your hobbies.

a mechanic? and you spend hours in your garage just.. fixing up cars?

his spark stutters one day relaxing in your detached shed, as you mumble under your breath with your ungloved fingers coated in oil with the popped hood of an '99 ferrari, tongue licking sweat off your top lip so slow he has to lock his tires not to accidently skid the concrete.

"mmm, there ya go. shiny and just as gorgeous. bet i could go on a real fast ride with you now, huh?"

"kkkrrtt! my chick do stuff that your chick wish she could — chhhtk — krrrz!"

"oh my god, bee, please — hey! do not leak in my garage baby."

he has never made his attraction for you quiet.

it's difficult to course through radio signals in regular conversation but you always look so charmed when he chirps out song lyrics you know, so chatting you up during repair sessions is frequent.

once his leash has been loosened some and you're teetering ripping back the veil of platonic and more, you let him know the other aspect of your interests.

he stares at the shiny poster in your hands, watching you animatedly explain just what a "muscle car show" was. his brow ridge raises. okaay, you got his attention.

while you didn't expect to win (which he rolled his optics to because really, this is him you're talking about), it'd be fun. it would only last a few hours. all he has to do is sit still and look pretty.

look still and look. pretty. his flaps flutter, proud. damn straight he's pretty.

when you roll him to the flat plain one saturday afternoon, his wheels look brand-new and his hood has signature, thick black accents.

even has that "new smell" to him, rubber flawless and paint with that glittering coat.

fancy little bastard managed to get some butterfly doors. you coo between his engine revving he's being such a little show-off.

what he didn't expect was the constant attention to be so distracting. it's warm and there's an internal message to start blasting his cooling fans because his temperature is starting to up a tick.

there's so, so many cars. yet he's fully in the center, which means at times he feels like he's being surrounded.

bumblebee takes a gander while he plays some old rock softly to cover the fizzle of his motor, eyeing the classics and more modern bodystyle frames.

almost beeps when you bend down to show a man his chrome mufflers. your hands run along his rims and he's starting to feel.. funny.

"damn. how'd you get such a sexy car?"

"ahh... magician never shares their tricks. wanna feel the inside?"

cue the radio shorting out, because suddenly his doors are unfolding and men and women alike start to crowd him, cooing and taking pictures.

the sensory overload from curious palms smoothing over his dash? you lean into him to adjust his mirror and cheekily grab the clutch. his engine roars.

"you know. i never thought i'd say i fuck a sports car but jesus, you've outdone yourself... oh, cmon, how much you selling for?"

"my bumblebee? girl, i ain't ever putting him up for sale. he's my sweet stallion."

his processor is humming. angles his frontal mirrors as you keep teasing him, even going as far to spank his bumper slightly before bragging about the genuine leather interiors and letting his admirers lounge inside, encouraging them to ask questions.

exhaust slips from pipes as he tries not to let the electricity cloak his frame suffocate when you press a silky smooch on his window. the kiss-mark looks like it's been left behind on foggy, shower glass.

is it a shocker you win? nope. easiest $5K of your life.

there's a final round where you get to drive him around a lap so motor-enthusiasts can gander a final time. he's almost thankful the announcements echo because you're leaned over the wheel, chest pressed up near the horn.

"you like that? you did so fucking good."

"tcccthtt -- whoa, baby you're killin' me! "

"aww, don't get shy. there's a warehouse four miles west from here. take us there. i wanna thank you."

his speedometer breaks when he drifts right out and down the highway, wind zipping back your hair as your laugh cackles out ajar windows.

pure nsfw.

the golden-black charger rumbles down the highway. it's minimal interference, though the turn signal never flashes and it's difficult to see any drivers or passengers inside.

pebbles pluck up and ding the exterior, which is such a shame, because it's such a pretty car!

however, that isn't on anyone's mind at the moment.

bumblebee tries not to hydroplane, because it'd be stupid dangerous and it's not even raining. but you're a tsunami, a distraction of disastrous proportions. your hand is shoved down your shorts and you trail down your tummy before the straps of your underwear twist.

it's a wildly salacious position. your right leg is hiked up on his - your - dash. your left hand rubs vigorously while the right squeezes his clutch and rubs the silver button positioned at its knob.

his engine snarls. his radio glitches and you can hear the rhythmic churn of metal buzzing and gurgles that suggests he's trying to speak.

"yeah? yeah? such a pretty speedster, bee. f-fuck. you're so hot. you're the best."

"breeep!"

"awww, haha -- nnf, did you just honk?!"

the opening to a dilapidated hanger lingers on the horizon. he bulldozed through gravel and rolls up his windows fully to avoid any flying in your face. your hair is messy and both of your feelings are floundering, the beat of your heart loud in your ears.

he can't erase any of this. those wet cries have his intake salivating with lubricant.

there's a wet spot on the driver's seat and he's almost mad that he can't lick it off.

transforming mid-kneel, you're gently shoved out and his servos snatch at you like a toddler with a toy. his bright, blue gaze edged needy when he's pawing off your clothes and manhandling you to get up on his lap.

his pedes scratch against the concrete for purchase. he's whipped. he's so fragging on edge. all the compliments, all the comments, all the touching - he's gonna overload.

let's just say you two aren't getting back to base for the night. especially not with that wry grin on your lips, before you rub down his body like melted rubber.

robolvrr 2024.

[rigginsstreet]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker

the upside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit.

the downside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit. and also kind of a bitch.

it's billy's fault, really. he should've known better when dating a guy nicknamed king.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana, though, is that secrecy is a requirement, which billy doesn't have a problem with. the thought of publicly displaying his affections makes his skin crawl. he's got no problem doing it with the girls he pretends to be interested in because that's all it is - pretend.

but when he really means that shit... it's a harder pill to swallow.

and none of this really bodes well with steve harrington's style of dating. billy knows from his brief overlap of being in town while harrington and wheeler were still a happy item that the guy likes to be clingy, needs constant attention and validation of his affections and he wants to put it all on display for the world to see. and billy can't give that to him.

so he goes looking for it elsewhere.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana is the secrecy, but that rule doesn't extend to billy's sister or his best friend.

heather was never supportive of billy's taste in men. warned him plenty of times that steve was a dick and a leopard doesn't change its spots. but billy had waved of all concerns by saying they weren't even in a serious relationship and that heather didn't know steve like he did. heather and steve hated each other, of course she was gonna see the worst in him.

max was supportive. at first. until dustin started coming around with stories of steve and the new girls he was picking up, gloating about him like he was some golden god of women. and max would come fuming into billy's room asking if he knew about this shit, and billy would sigh and explain to her that it was just steve keeping up appearances to throw the scent off their trail.

"oh, is that why he had his tongue down tina's throat?" max accused.

and billy would have to pretend like he wasn't embarrassed. like he was in on the joke.

the thing with billy is that he doesn't let himself fall often, because when he does it's like a ten ton boulder down the side of a steep cliff. and shame isn't a color he wears well. he's gotten enough of that for a lifetime from neil, and since he's thankfully fucked off now, billy doesn't want to face it ever again.

which is maybe why he snaps at tommy's party.

he came here with steve, but now he's currently watching him dance with some chick with ten pounds of hair and double the makeup. laughing his preppy little ass off as she gyrates her dainty little lady parts all over him.

and yeah, billy can handle a bitchy attitude and some temper tantrums. and he can even wave off vague flirtations that he only hears about secondhand.

but this shit? right in front of his face? that's where he draws a line in the sand.

so he crumples the red plastic cup in his hand, not caring that beer spills out from the top, spotting the hagans' carpet, and throws it full force at the wall beside him, causing those nearby to jump, probably wondering what the hell set him off, if there's gonna be some grand billy hargrove performance.

but no. they'll just have to make due watching his ass walk out the door.

-

billy's sitting on the steps outside his house the next day, smoking a cigarette, when the beemer pulls up.

it's half expected, half not. billy braces himself for a fight anyway.

"you ditched me last night," is what steve says once he's up the sidewalk, a few feet in front of billy. he doesn't sound mad really. maybe a little offended.

billy sucks on his cigarette. blows out the smoke, his eyes never leaving steve. "got hit by a sudden wave of nausea," he says. "didn't wanna ralph in front of the party. didn't think you'd notice."

"why wouldn't i notice? we came together. i was looking all over for you."

billy shrugs, taking another pull of his smoke. "you seemed preoccupied."

it looks like steve's playing a tape in his head of the previous night, trying to pinpoint what exactly the fuck billy's talking about until it must finally click. "man, are you talking about that thing with cindy?" he laughs. like billy's fucking joshing him. "that was nothing!"

billy finishes his smoke, flicking it into the grass before standing up. "yeah, well, it something to me." he turns to walk up the steps, leaving this conversation - and steve - behind, but he's stopped with a hand on his arm.

"aw, billy, c'mon-"

"don't!" billy spins around, hands shoving steve square in the chest. watches his face go from jovial to nervous in two seconds flat.

good. the prick should be fucking nervous.

"you think you can walk around doing whatever the fuck you want like you own this town, but guess what? you don't! and you sure as shit don't own me!"

steve watches him with wide eyes, clearly out of his depth. this isn't the meeting he came here for. billy doesn't really give a shit. "billy, i-"

"i stood up for you, motherfucker," billy seethes, shoving steve again with two pointed fingers. "you know how many times heather's tried getting me to leave your ass alone? how many times max has threatened to castrate you because you can't keep it in your fucking pants?"

"i haven't slept with anyone else!"

"i don't care!" billy bellows. he's making a fucking scene. he hopes the neighbors aren't home. "i'm prime fucking real estate, baby! back in cali i had guys lining up the fucking block to get a piece of this! you think i just give this up to anybody?" steve opens his mouth, but billy cuts him off. "don't answer that! i defended you, asshole. and you make me look like a fucking idiot."

"i didn't think you cared..." steve says after a moment of stunned silence.

and that stuns billy. but he recovers quickly. "of course i fucking care. i wouldn't be doing this-" he gestures between the two of them, "-if i didn't."

"well you don't exactly express feelings very well." it's mostly teasing, billy thinks, but still that undercurrent of signature harrington bitch. "but-" he takes a step closer. "-if you're serious about this, then i am, too." another step.

"i swear to god if i have to sit through an 'i told you so' speech from maxine or heather because of some shit you pull-"

"is this your way of saying you love me?" steve grins, all cocksure and obnoxious, closing the distance until he and billy are standing toe to toe.

"don't press your luck," billy breathes in the space between them. "i'm serious, steve. i don't do thi- this is new for me, alright? and, i don't know if you've noticed, but i don't really handle rejection well."

"yeah, no shit," steve chuckles. "i'll be on my best behavior from now on. scout's honor." he holds up the three finger scout salute in mockery, but billy thinks, hopes, there's a sincerity in his eyes that he can hold him to.

billy rolls his eyes, mainly at himself for wanting to kiss the idiot right now. he almost does, too, until he remembers where they are and prying eyes could be watching.

he settles for another shove, this time to steve's shoulder, before turning back towards the house. "c'mon," he says, nodding his head towards the door. "nobody's home. you can give me a proper apology."

billy hears footsteps behind him before he even gets his whole sentence out.

[kafka-ish]

part 1

Patrick asks Art if he got the stuff and how much to which Art replies: yea just an 8th tho and Patrick replies Dude wtf

No dude. You never told me your dealer was hot!!!

Don’t bother. Asked if she’d trade head for half. Wouldn’t budge. Strict business or whatever.

Two seconds later: Still. I’d tap that.

Art decides against telling him about the sample he got. Sticks the joint you rolled in his desk drawer. Does weed have an expiration date? he wonders. He drops by Patrick’s who asks how the deal went. If you gave him a discount for it being his first time and all.

“How much’d she charge?” Patrick wonders aloud, comparing prices in his head, secretly hoping his friend got ripped off.

It takes Art awhile to settle on a number. He still doesn’t know the price of weed. “Like fifty?”

“For an eighth?” Patrick laughs at this like okay this chick is insane and Art realizes he said the wrong thing.

“She said it was the good stuff.” Art shrugs, trying to play it off.

“Whatever man, but you need to learn how to negotiate… So we gonna smoke this shit or what?”

Art begins to make appearances more frequently. But he has to be calculated with how he goes about this. Doesn’t want to seem desperate, hooked on fucking weed. How pathetic. He has to pace himself. At first his visits are periodic. Comes by a few times a month for his regular pick up. But he can’t get enough. Sporadic turns into every other week and every other week turns into Friday nights after his games or if not a tournament, practice. He’s at your door with takeout in hand. Something different every time; he keeps you on your feet and you like the surprise. Tacos, Thai, Lo Mien. Indian when he wins his matches.

You don’t smoke with him at first when he asks, though; you have a rule about smoking up with clients.

“Oh,” he says, feeling defeated. Disappointed that’s how you think of him.

“You still want that eighth?” you ask.

“Um, no. Actually I think I’m gonna go.”

“Art,” you say and the sound of your voice calling his name has him frozen in place. His hand is still on the knob for a moment before it drops, falls by his side. He wipes it on his pants, a habit he has. "Don't do this."

"What? Change my mind?"

"No--"

"You're not trying to peer pressure me, are you?" You wonder if Art's being serious right now. If he's using your methodology of paying tuition and groceries against you. It's your turn to freeze.

"Fine then. Leave. But just so you know I wasn't the one hitting up strangers for weed." You're calm when you say this, only making it harder for Art to reach for the door once more.

Of course, he comes crawling back. Ends up blowing up your phone.

Art: Hey

Art: I'm sorry for what i said the other day. I wasn't thinking. Obviously. It just hurt when u called me a customer. Which i guess i technically am. I dont kno.

Art: I think ur really cool

Art: I guess i just wanted to smoke with someone other than patrick

Art: Did i mention i think ur really cool

You roll your eyes at the thread of messages, how they still come in and your phone can't stop vibrating; you're not finished reading but it keeps pinging. Still, you're smiling. Can't help but read his texts over and over again before responding and you feel a heat on your cheeks when you haven't even lit up.

You text him the same thing when he always texts you after one of his games: My place 9?

"You think I'm cool, huh?" You nudge Art, sitting next to you on the couch. His legs are crossed, facing yours.

Art blushes at the question, the pressure you put him under. Finally musters up the courage to say, “yeah. Really cool.” Then leans in, does that thing that guys do where they grab your jaw, almost caresses it, then brings you in to kiss your lips. It’s soft. Gentle. Thinks he might hurt you if he’s not careful. And he doesn’t linger long but you can taste his chapstick. Mint. You miss him already when his lips leave yours and your tongue sweeps over where flesh once was, itching for another taste.

He sees this. Locks his lips on yours again. Instinct. It's just as quick and sweet as the first one. You feel him grin when his mouth meshes with yours and the sensation of his smile pressing into your cheeks gets you all giddy-like.

“So does that mean you’ll smoke with me?” His smile doesn’t leave when you pull away. And you see his eyebrows are raised while his eyes are blue and bright. A dash of hope shimmers in them and you can see your reflection in them.

“Yeah,” you say, hushed, almost a whisper as if you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. You’re breaking your rules for him, is what Art’s thinking. And you tell yourself it’s just a one time exception but when he comes over next Friday you find yourself rolling a joint and passing it to him in between kisses.

And now it’s your routine.

He doesn’t need to text you asking for an eighth and you don’t need to tell him what time and place. He just shows up after practice. Of course, you expect him.

“I hope I didn’t get you addicted.”

“Nah.” Art’s lean frame is already hanging on the doorway and he doesn’t come inside immediately when you welcome him in. Instead, he takes you in his arms. They feel stronger each time. Plants a big wet kiss on your lips. And he is addicted. Just not what you think.

[pikablu410]

His Mayoral Duties

“Mayor Bradley! How do you feel now that you’ve just won a second term in office with a surprise landslide victory?!” A man with a microphone asked.

“I’m honored the people of Stocksville have chosen me to lead them again. I’m excited to get back in my office and make changes for the better.” The man confidently said, adjusting his casual yet sleek blue suit. He combed over his curls with his hand to make sure they weren’t frizzled.

“Mayor! To what do you contribute to such a meaningful success?” A blonde woman in a red suit nearly jumped out of the crowd. She, of course, was talking about how a black man, like himself, was the first to win a reelection as mayor in Stocksville.

“I think my policies speak for themselves. Our economy is doing better, crime is at an all time low and people are content with their lives in the city.” The mayor confidently responded.

“And mayor, what do you have to say to those who believe your victory was the result of fraud?” A man asked before being pushed back into the crowd.

If the people had known him personally, or had studied his body language, they would’ve known Scott staggered for a brief moment before responding. “I ask that they wait for the voting office to put out their data, and, for now, work with me in making progress towards a better Stocksville.” He smiled.

“How could they have known?! I was completely certain it would be a secret-” A man with shaggy brown hair walked back and forth before being interrupted by Scott.

“Just shut up! I know my office isn’t rigged with cameras or mics I’m not aware of. There’s no way it could’ve gotten out.” He said, leaning forward onto his desk. 

“Then how would they have known we used dark ma-” Scott almost literally zipped the man’s lips this time.

“Roger. There is absolutely, assuredly, zero reason for people to believe we did anything suspicious other than their own conspiratorial beliefs. We have done nothing wrong, and there’s no proof otherwise.”

Roger wiped the sweat from his neck, “Well…”

Scott glared, “Roger.”

“I’m not saying I kept the book, but-”

“Roger!” Scott growled. A rarity for him.

“What if I need a demon for a hot chick or something? You never know.” Roger, now much more casually, admitted.

“If by ‘demon’ you mean ‘advice’ then sure, but you definitely don’t mean what you said literally, right?” Scott said, with a thick emphasis on the sarcasm.

“Relax Brandon, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure there’s no negative side effects.” Roger started, “You did do what the de- what the advice told you to do, right?”

Brandon sighed, pulling out the greasy takeout bag, “Yeah, I bought a burger after I won. I really don’t get how this was equivalent to whatever that…advice did.” 

He took a large bite out of the burger, finding the taste divine. Scott quickly took another, and then a sip of his soda.

“Woah, slow down their champ. Just because you won doesn’t mean you can’t get sick from eating like that.” Roger advised, but it seemed Brandon wasn’t listening.

“Mmph, sorry,” Scott swallowed the last of his burger, “I don’t know why, but that was the best burger I’ve ever had from McTasties.” Finishing his soda and the fries, Scott went on, “I think I’m gonna get another. They must’ve changed their recipe or something!” 

Roger noticed how Scott wiped the grease onto his blue suit, which, thanks to the dark color, didn’t detract much from it. However, he thought back to how Brandon got pissed off when he spilled water onto a similar suit. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home. Call me if you need anything not politics related.” Roger said, the drawstrings of his green and gray hoodie flipping through the air. 

Despite his calm demeanor, Roger was still thinking about his friend’s behavior. Just what was it that they had summoned the night before?

“Destiny! Two more orders of McTasties double cheeseburgers. One with fries and one with onion rings. Of course I want two milkshakes!” Scott said over his newly installed desk microphone. He had gotten tired of constantly walking down to ask her to order him more food. 

“Right away Mayor Bradley. Oh, city council wanted me to notify you that they’re meeting for ordinance 5507 in 10 minutes.” Destiny replied.

Scott smiled and thanked Destiny. He slowly sat up from his chair and walked over to his mirror. His stomach bulged against the white undershirt and blue suit he adorned. A ketchup stain marked the white and a grease one the blue suit. It had been a stressful…2 weeks in office. Scott hadn’t taken the time to think about how he had gained weight so quickly, or how fast time had gone by. 

Regardless, Scott decided to head down to the council room and wait for his colleagues there. 

Opening his doors, he found an unwanted surprise.

“Scott! I really need to talk to you ri-” Roger nearly shouted.

“Can it wait? I have McTasties and a council meeting waiting for me downstairs?” Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

“I really don’t think you should. I’m not sure how much longer you have?” Roger panicked, welcoming himself into Scott’s office.

Raising an eyebrow, Scott now fully entered the conversation, “What, do I have a disease or something?” “You might as well! You know that ‘advice’ we summoned the other night?” Roger asked, using his hands to sign quotation marks in the air, “Well, apparently that deal was just its way to get ahold of you.”

“Wait, you mean I’m possessed?” Scott scoffed at his own words.

“Basically! It’s like an infection,” Roger opened the book Scott had berated him for 2 weeks ago, “The longer you don’t treat it, the more it affects you. This weight you’ve gained isn’t natural.” Roger poked Scott’s belly to emphasize his point, Scott smacking his friend’s hand away.

“So what, I've gained a few pounds. I’ve been stressed and cooped up in this office, I’ll be fine.” Scott said, stifling a belch.

Roger looked at his friend with glazed eyes, “You’ve barely done anything but eat McTasties and watched how the media is praising your election.”

Scott didn’t want to admit it, but as he looked at the greasy takeout wrappers on the floor, Roger was right. He hadn’t done much other than eat and pass a few laws that were already in the works before he was elected. But then, a lightbulb.

Well, a buzz on his desk microphone.

“Mayor Bradley. City council is meeting in 5 minutes now. Also, your McTasties is here.” Destiny rang.

Now with a smug look, Scott smiled at Roger, “I’m actually in the process of passing a new city ordinance right now. And you’re making me late. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Scott then headed down the hall and towards the city council. Roger looked at the book and sighed. At least this wasn’t going to ruin his life. He hoped.

Entering the city council meeting room with his two bags of McTasties, Scott settled in before the last of the council members arrived. Immediately digging into one of the cheeseburgers and fries, the other city council members stared in shock. 

“Uhm, Mayor Bradley. Mayor Bradley!” An older council member nearly shouted.

“Hmm? What is it?” Scott replied, licking ketchup off of his fingers.

“We’re starting our meeting…is it truly necessary for you to eat your lunch during our meeting?” The older man inquired.

“Oh, I’m almost done with it,” Scott casually replied, sucking down his milkshake, making a loud slurping sound in the process, “You all should try it sometime. Now, where were we?” 

The following months saw historic change for Stocksville. Probably in the most insipid way possible. Ordinance 5507 gave more freedom to “inexpensive food companies” that was cited to help “impoverish citizens attain a more consummate meal.” 

In reality, Scott just wanted more McTasties near city hall and his house, both of which now had 2 within a block. 

Not that Scott walked to the fast food restaurant, but it certainly alleviated the weight on his employees. Though, it didn’t relieve weight in other areas. Within those months, the Bradley office staff had all put on at least 70 pounds of fat. Dozens upon dozens of McTasties orders came to the office each day, a majority of them coming from Scott himself. 

Speaking of the mayor, he had gone up 3 suit sizes in the several months following ordinance 5507, which of course was followed by ordinance 5508, 5509 and 5512. All of which gave the McTasties company more power in Stocksville. 

None of this caused the Bradley office any concern because, like Scott, they had all become addicted to the greasy junk. Seemingly overnight, the town had transformed into some Las Vegas for greasy restaurants. A competitor, Patty’s Burgers, was on the rise and produced even more restaurants for Scott- for the Stocksville citizens to order from. 

Though, not all hope was lost for the town.

“Scooooooottttt!” A man with shaggy brown hair shouted down the hall. The guards were too fat and lazy to stop him from bursting into Scott’s office. “Scott, I’ve found out how to solve this- what the hell happened to you?!” 

The mayor’s first response with a burp, followed by him trying to sit upright in his chair.

“Do you mind, URP, Roger? I’m trying to eat my pre-lunch snack?” Scott replied, taking a chomping bite out of a burger that looked much too large for human consumption. 3 more bags were filled with food next to him on the desk, Roger being able to tell they were filled because he couldn’t take a step in the office without his legs brushing up against an empty one.

“How fucking fat have you gotten? Do you realize what this is all from? That “advice?”” Roger, again, emphasized the word advice.

Scott slurped down a soda before literally dumping a carton of fries into his gaping maw. “What, the fucking demon? Yeah, whatever. Like anyone believes that shit.” He let out a very noticeable fart before going back to chowing down on a burger.

Roger noticed his friend’s new dialect. “Dude, since when did you swear? I thought you had to uphold an image or something.” 

“Yeah, what-fucking-ever. People are so happy with all the McTasties, and now Patty’s! Who cares if I fucking swear!” Scott said with a little too much enthusiasm, finding himself wedged between his office chair, “Damn, this thing is getting old.” “Uhh, yeah. Anyways, I’ve figured out how to stop all this and get back to normal. All you have to do is eat some vegetables and fruit, lose a bit of weight and the possession should slowly go away. If that doesn’t work we’ll need a priest and-” “Bro, you’re actually still on this possession thing? I told you, I’m in complete control.” Scott said, taking a final bite out of his burger. 

Then, a squeak was heard, followed by a snap and then Scott falling to the ground. Rips could be heard behind the desk as the mayor sat behind his desk.

“Fuck…that actually felt kinda good.” Scott mumbled to himself.

Roger, however, was much more worried, “Dude! Are you alright?!” He went behind Scott’s desk to help his friend up.

He immediately noticed that one of the buttons on his suit had burst off from the fall, leaving a portion of Scott’s belly wide open to the public. As he helped heft his friend up, Roger noticed that Scott’s pants were now torn at his thighs, exposing a significant amount of cellulite. After helping Scott up, the fat man waddled to the mirror in his office. 

“Damn, I don’t look too bad.” Scott admired himself. Roger hadn’t taken the time to notice in his rush to save his friend, but as his friend looked on in the mirror, he really saw how far Scott’s appearance had fallen. The once well-shaved man now had a scruff that was forming a goatee, and the same furry situation could be said for his now-exposed belly. His suit was tattered with stains, and had torn in places Scott hadn’t even noticed. 

“Scott I really think you should reconsider-”

“Roger, my time in office has been incredibly successful. Employment is at an all time low. People who were starving in the streets now have homes and food! Public transportation goes all over the city and our economy is thriving and healthy. All because I’ve invested in McTasties and fast food restaurants.” Scott went on, looking over the city, then back at Roger, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your extra weight too.” He poked Roger in his belly, to which the pale man sheepishly backed off.

“Just listen to me dude, I think something is really wrong. I mean, how did you even convince the city council to get all of this done? Aren’t they notorious for stopping all your ideas?” Roger asked.

Scott smiled devilishly, braggin, “They attributed it to my “charisma.” They’ve really fallen for me.” He walked over to Roger and put his arm around his friend, “Look me in the eyes when I tell you this, Roger.”

Listening to his friend, Roger looked into Scott's eyes, but they weren’t Scott’s. They glowed a deep red, and were almost…hypnotizing.

“Go get yourself some McTasties on your way home. Tell them it’s on me, they’ll cover it.” Scott ordered, very persuasively. 

Roger couldn’t help but slowly nod his head and turn around to leave Scott’s office. He could really go for a McTasties burger.

The next month saw Mayor Bradley’s only roadblock in his reign of ordinances. A group called “Alternatives for Health” rose to political distinction as a, you guessed it, alternative to Scott’s campaign. Not that there would be an election any time soon, but they aimed to rally support against all of the fast food-centric regulations that had recently been put in place. Lobbying Scott’s office near daily, they would’ve annoyed the hell out of any other group in office.

But, by this point, Scott’s staff had grown too fat and tired to care. 

“URRRRRP, Desti-URRRRRRP. Destiny, where’s m’ damn order of fries?” A sweaty, double-chinned, bearded face mumbled over the desk microphone. When there wasn’t a response in 5 seconds, he repeated himself. “Destiny! URRRRRP, I need m’ afta’noon snack!” 

“It’s, URP, on its way now. Sorry, thought it was for me.” A voice that was distinctly deeper than it was 4 months ago replied. 

Just then, several bags of greasy food then came elevated up through a small nightstand-like desk. Grumbling as he slowly stood up from a wider chair, the fat mayor waddled to the bags of food. Not bothering to waddle back to his desk, he plopped his fat ass down on the ground and started devouring the food. 

“God…this ain’t gonna be enough…it’s sho good…gonna need more…” Scott trailed off, plowing through the food like he had the littered takeout bags in his office. Sweat poured down his barely clothed body, pooling into the rolls that were made from hours of eating. A white wifebeater and black basketball pants were what Scott adorned, since nothing else fit and he had to keep up “public decency,” whatever the hell that was.

A voice annoyingly came through his microphone desk.

“Mayor you, URRRRRP, have a visitor.” Destiny rang.

Grumbling again, the mayor heaved his beanbag-esq belly off the ground and waddled back to his oversized chair.

“Send ‘em up!” Scott said, farting as he settled back into his chair. Just moving across the room had gotten him drench in his own salty perspiration. He rubbed his hairy, sweaty belly to coax out more gas before his visitor arrived. Though, he figured he already knew who it was.

“URRRP, Scott, I got more sco-URRRRRP-op on that health group.” Roger barged in. The trip to McTasties a month ago had treated Roger well. Some might’ve said a little too well. But Scott said it hadn’t treated him well enough, and sent his friend back for more.

“Good man! Whadda they want? URRRRRRP” Scott belched out, not bothering to stop eating. 

Pulling out a bunch of graphs and research papers, Roger messily placed them all over Scott’s desk.

“So basically, URRRRP, ‘scuse me. Basically they’re tryna’ prove that bein’ fat is bad. Apparently it raises your chance for “heart disease” and “cholesterol related illnesses” but I haven’t heard of anyone hospitalized for those things recently.” Roger explained.

Scott’s brain was still trying to process the papers in front of him. Months ago these would’ve made sense, but for some reason he could barely comprehend the words. Words like ‘arthritis,’ ‘artery,’ and ‘high fructose’ were hard to read. Almost like he was realizing his descent into slobdom, Scott almost put the pieces together.

That was, until Roger shoved the straw to a milkshake in his mouth.

“Ya looked starved. Thank god I brought more McTasties.” Roger said, with Scott eagerly reaching for the bags with his sausage arms. 

Roger rubbed his own exposed, pale belly that pushed out underneath his green hoodie. Surprisingly, the same hoodie from 4 months ago still fit the growing lard boy, but he was too addicted to the junk most of Stocksville ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner to be bothered to notice.

“So,” Scott pause for a monumental fart, “Heh, that was a nice one. Anyways, what’re we talkin’ about?” 

“This, uh, health group.” Roger explained.

“Oh yeah, how do we get rid of them? They’re gettin’ in the way of me buildin’ more McTasties.” Scott shoveled another handful of onion rings into his mouth. Roger couldn’t even tell what was grease and what was sweat on the man’s face.

“Jus’...lemme handle it.” Roger smiled, with Scott appreciating the simple reply. “How’s the move goin’?” 

Processing the question, Scott remembered he had ordered the leanest of his staff to move his home necessities to his office. 

“Awesome dude! I got a TV and internet, so I’m basically set. All I need is a personal McTasties and I’d never have to leave.” Scott replied, his rolls and moob jiggling as he went to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

“Sounds like the next ordinance at city council.” Roger smirked.

Scott belched and threw an empty milkshake cup into the trash pile that littered the room. “Oh, I disbanded that. They all got too lazy to come. So now they put their trust in me to make the laws.”

Roger’s eyes perked up at those words. “You’re just telling me now?!” Scott let out more gas and continued to eat, “Sorry, forgot I guess.” 

Roger went over to Scott and leaned against his a fat roll.

“My friend, it’s a good thing you’ve started moving; I don’t think you’ll be leaving your office for a while.”

“Whaddare they sayin’? M’ fuckin’ tits r’ blockin’ m’ vision.” A fat blob of a man whined. 

“Hold on Scott I gotta turn up the volume.” A less fat, but still incredibly massive, man replied. The less fat man placed a milkshake in between the blobbish man’s moobs, with the latter eagerly sucking down the contents of the cup.

“Roge-URRRRRRRRRRRP. Whaddare they sayin’ damnit!” Scott whined again, finishing the milkshake in record time. 

Roger smirked and smacked Scott’s immense belly, “You’ve got no opposition m’ friend. You’re running unopposed next election.” 

The wide man forgot to mention how he had gotten a few of the skinnier interns to infiltrate Alternatives for Health’s own office and sneak McTasties into their diet. A combination of this and tactically cutting off their funding so fast food was all they could afford spiraled to a quick downfall of their opposing organization. Scott let out a fart from the pressure on his belly, smiling nonetheless. “Thas…URRRRRRPP…fuckin’ awesome.” He unabashedly stated. 

“Still it’ll be Stocksville’s first mayor who’s a human blob. And I don’t think it’ll be the last.” Roger stated, planting a kiss on Scott’s greasy lips.

Scott let out more gas, drool and more greasy getting into his beard, “Huh? Did ‘m new order come yet?” Scott had gotten a one-track mind. Which might have been a good thing had he not been corrupted with greasy takeout. The naked blob of a man now never left his office. Not that he could, given his recent immobility in the past month. His thighs were as thick as a hog plumped for a Christmas dinner, leading to an ass that was as large as his belly just months ago. Whenever the man moved, either to let out gas, to try to see the TV, or, recently, to pleasure himself, his entire body jiggled as if shockwaves were sent through him.

Arms hung uselessly at his sides, sitting on rolls upon rolls of fat. His face was basically just his unkept goatee, his several chins, greasy, and sweat. Oh christ the sweat. It was as if Scott had constantly come back from a workout at the gym, but his workout was simply processing thoughts and eating his McTasties meals. It got tangled in his hairy body and made the entire office smell like a sports locker room.

“Scott, ‘m back with your pre-pre-brunch snack!” Roger reassured the massive man. 

Roger hadn’t faired much better after being ‘convinced’ by Scott to try McTasties. He was also shirtless, but wore underwear that had definitely seen better days. Just their yellow coloring and greasy stains were enough to paint a detailed picture. His gut rested over these underwear, looking like a dad who had recently gotten divorced and hit the liquor store too much, though with a more jiggly belly. He looked like Scott did just months ago, which didn’t bode well for his future. “Anything I can get for ya while I’m up babe?” Roger asked, opening his phone to see the news about Alternatives for Health.” The two had started dating because of what Scott again contributed to his “charisma.” They were basically inseparable now, Roger serving at Scott’s beck and call.

“Actually, fuck, yeah.” Scott said through mouthfuls of food, “Call in ‘n intern an’ suck me off.” Giving a knowing smile, Roger leaned against his massive boyfriend’s belly. He slowly got on his belly and crawled under Scott’s massive belly. They had done this enough times that Roger knew where to go in the sweaty expanse.

As an intern walked in and started to feed Scott, the immense man started to let out some affirming swears. Roger knew he found his goal.

“URP, Mayor Bradley, what will you do to, uh, ya know, make sure our city stays great?” An interviewer asks over a video call.

“I’ll, uhm, URRRRRRRRP, uh, yeah.” Scott replied.

They were all too fat to do professional interviews in-person anymore. Not that it mattered. They only had one choice anyways. Thank god they weren’t doing this in-person anyways. Scott barely fit in frame on the Zoom call. He barely fit in his office anymore. An amalgamation of sweaty, hairy fat. 

“Great response, babe.” Roger egged his boyfriend on. He was nearing immobility too, struggling to get up and feed Scott nowadays. The interns took care of that for them.

The interviewer, clearly struggling to paint Mayor Bradley in a good light, asked another question. “To what do you contribute your, URRRRRP, successes.”

Scott nearly went cross-eyed. He let out a far that was audible on camera before responding. “More, URRRRRRRRRP, McTasties. Thas what’ll do!” He slurred.

The interviewer smiled and said, “Excellent idea!” 

“They should, PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT, vote fa’ me jus’ ‘cus ‘m hot.” Scott gobbled down multiple burgers after the interview. Grease splattered all over him, and the walls. And his rolls. And his tits.

“That’s a gr-URRRRRRRRRRP-great idea babe!” Roger continued to egg on the massive man. 

It was a wonder nobody realized how their demon, oh sorry, ‘advice’, had caused all of this. Roger didn’t do a very good job at hiding the evidence once he got a bite of McTasties.

If anyone had the brains to realize what was going on, they’d know their mayor hadn’t any.

That was okay, though. A quick bite of McTasties would fix their worries. Thank god they were expanding to other cities nearby.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Same anon from last time, but skskfjd I have so much to yap about?? Especially about my personal favs

The last Ritsu fic just make me think of Leo version, for some reason. Because like, this man, this guy, this Satan spawn if he was sent to the future and somehow, miraculously ended with Leo, he straight up the type to go into denial.

Like, him?? Leo?? The 600k influencer?? Where all of his fans is dying to be with him and a much better option (dramatic ass) somehow ended up with the NPC?? He's having an identity crisis because did he lose his taste in people already?? He blame Darkwick for not allowing to leave all the time because he ended up settle down for the "Honor Roll" or the "Useless NPC"

He probably think or believe he ended up with MC because she must've been desperate to be in a relationship. Of course, he's the Leo after all, everyone would wanted to be with him, even the basic NPC themselves. (Spoiler alert; he's the one who fell first and hard. Who's the one into the chick now, Leo?)

The diabolical streamer gets married?? (No click bait)

Leo wakes up in an unknown yet familiar room where he discovers some things about the future

Wc: 2,1K

Notes: it's implied you two were about to have sex.

No beta, if I have to close the document again I will die. Who would have guessed rewriting the same thing three times would make you fed up with it? /S

If leo is kinda ooc let's just say the anomaly made him more mellow jsjs

The thumping pulsation of his heartbeat inside his skull, pushing against the bone seeking to burst, does an unsurprising better work at waking him than any alarm clock, the pain ripping the sleep away from Leo in each of its quick waves.

One of his hands falls between his eyebrows, applying force against them that rolled down his temporal to the occipital where it pooled as honey-thick pleasurable pressure, even though it did an underwhelming job at soothing the ache to say the least. It's unlike any hangover he had ever gotten.

“Why in hell does my head hurt so fucking much?” It isn't like he has been drinking lately, ever since coming to darkwick the only chance at getting drinks was when he gets an R&R accepted, which Alan hasn't done in a good few days. At one point he thought that obscuary’s bar might sell him booze, given Romeo's complaints about a ‘drunk’ Haru, but they were just anomalous drinks that mimicked it so he wouldn't get a hangover either way.

Extending his hand towards the nightstand Leo starts patting around trying to find his phone to call Sho so he gets him some aspirin or something. After a few failed attempts he reluctantly starts opening his eyes slowly only to see that his phone wasn't there. Did he forget it at the bar? Or maybe sober designated driver Sho decided to take it away so he wouldn't embarrass himself?

Before he can even start cussing his friend out a whiff of sweet chocolate catches his nose. Could it be that he finally caved in and made him the trendy chocolate pastries shaped like dachshunds he has been asking him to? He always refused to, saying things like ‘cooking isn't the same as baking’ or ‘it’s really precise, I can't just throw things in a bowl and hope it works out’ but it seems he is humoring Leo again.

Now in a better mood, he peeks a leg under the unusually nice and heavy comforter and starts looking for his slippers still laying down. When he finds one he sits up and follows the smell.

Dragging his feet across the tiled floors Leo doesn't notice how different the floorplan -or everything really- is to Vagastorm, the white paint on the walls pristine rather than dirty with dubious substances and the hallway has a lingering scent of bergamot and sage clinging to clean AC cooled breeze, totally different to the drowning rust and oil hanging in suffocating hot air. Strangely enough he doesn't notice either how naturally he navigates without even one though forming, almost as if he was familiar with it.

Stopping just under the arch leading to the dining room, his enthusiasm falters as the white plate on the glass table was holding, disappointingly, not his pastries but cut up brownies with some red flakes over, maybe chili flakes? It would still be a spicy dessert so curious he reaches a hand over but before his fingers even graze it a playful voice scolds him like a little child.

“They are still hot! I don't want you whining about stomach ache”

If ghouls weren't more sturdy than humans Leo is 100 percent sure he would have gotten whiplash with the way his head snapped towards the right, surprised at your presence. Despite what he might have normally done, going on and on about how much of an obsessive fan you were for hanging out around his room and how he would make Darkwick get a restraining order on you, something inclined him to do nothing, almost feeling like it was obviously natural for you to be here.

It isn't until you start walking towards him, a playful smirk on your face, that he notices that there is a baby no older than ten months hanging on your hip.

Now beside him, your hand combs his bed hair, raking his scalp with the blunt end of your nails, the few times his ashy gray hair tangled around your fingers and got pulled, his nerves and spine trembled slightly. Even if he reasons pulling away –He cares so much about his hair, spending a good amount of money and time on it only for a nobody NPC to spread skin oils on it?!– the surprising ease that came with your touch urged him to stay and rest against the warmth

“Did Emmy wake you up? it's unusual for you to wake up so early” looking through his eyelashes, the black minimalist asymmetrical clock with cherry red arms points to 7:30. How come he woke up so early? When he spends the night editing or doxxing he barely can stand at 12:45. The sleep still hanging to his yellow eyes reminds him of when Alan bangs on his door to force him to train “were you editing that video up late?”

“Video?”

Putting your daughter in the highchair you start tinkering inside the kitchen, cutting some berries and fruit, grabbing a plastic bowl shaped like a panda and putting a dollop of yogurt before sprinkling chia seeds “weren't you doing a summary video for our anniversary? Your fans are kind of pushy about it, and I know you defend them saying they are mostly teens but…”

Tuning out the rambling as background noise, Leo's yellow eyes meet matching ones on the high chair, looking up to him with such an innocent love he can feel awkwardness seeping out of his bones, seeing something so small and weak put so much trust on someone who regularly scams rich old men.

“But I guess it's whatever” coming back to the table you settle the bowl in front of the toddler and face him again, now slightly worried “are you feeling alright, Leo?”

“I must be missing too much sleep lately” the words leave his mouth before he can even think about them

“Sho mentioned sending you some things for it if you wanted them”

“Hmm… guess I should see if I can finish it already” Leo reaches for his phone that was laying on the table and unlock it as he walks to his study, a big desk with a three monitor setup and a green screen. Throwing himself on the couch Leo opens his Whatsapp and sees that his chat with Sho has a bunch of notifications, most if not all videos.

Leisurely scrolling through the miniature one of them catches his eye.

It's an off centered video inside his Vagastorm dorm, very obviously taken as a prank on him.

Both of you are laying down on his bed and seeing something on his phone.

“I don't like that one, you look weirder than usual” without giving you a chance to refuse he scrolls to the next picture.

“We have gone through 45 pictures, what is the fuss about?”

“A makeup brand wants to send a PR package for Valentine's so you need a proper headshot” scrolling away 5 or more photos in rapid fire he sighs into your shoulder.

“Why don't we take a few in my phone?”

“No way, your camera sucks”

“If it's so much of a drag why not just decline? It isn't like you need some spare cash ”

“If I don't post -anything- for Valentine's my fans are going to think we are going through a hard patch and you already saw how weird they can be” it is very obvious for you that he means last Valentine's when a swarm of fans chased after you two like paparazzi. Even then he digs his head deeper in the junction of your neck and his arms hug you closer.

“Is that all?” You ask teasingly and he mumbles something into your skin “hum? I didn't catch that”

“I want all those bastards to know you are mine”

For a second it almost seems like the video froze but suddenly the half of his body he can see is dragged off screen to the right side of the bed.

“Aren't you too sweet to be the demonic influencer~~?” The phone's audio managed to catch some soft mwahs.

“Stop slobbering over my face I have to meet-! Oh~ I don't mind this too much actually”

And the video cuts to black.

A curse towards his friend slips from his mouth before wondering why exactly he has a slight memory of the event like staring at a rock under muddy water.

Sighing and turning off his phone Leo's devilish yellow eyes turn to the monitor displaying the screensaver. It isn't even one second before his natural curiosity takes over and wants to start snooping, wanting to see any future trends or blackmail he could use -would it even be snooping if it's his own computer?- and as soon as the wireless mouse moves the oh so famous video pops on the editing app.

The frame he left it at was the ending of the wedding ceremony, just after the telling of vows. At the beginning it is quite far away, just enough to distinguish who they are by rough features but as the couple -or some reason it's less embarrassing to say couple than say you and him- get closer to kiss so does the camarographer, quickly panning closer until both of your faces are encased in the frame. His caramel eyes dripping with such sweetness it reaches out from the screen to his tongue and makes him sick.

“Aww, looking kind of sour over here” your hands smooth the shoulders of his pajamas before digging each thumb under his shoulder blade attempting to undo years of hunching over work and making him sit up straight “feeling kind of jealous I haven't been paying much attention to you lately?”

Sliding a hand up the column of his neck, the nails softly scraping the skin making him sigh and almost inaudible “NPC” Through half open eyes Leo sees your face getting closer and how your lips curve into a smile.

“Back to that stupid name like back at the academy? Last time I checked I was LI” hot lips climb up and around his neck and behind his left ear “reminiscing about those times now? How about we reenact something else from back then?” slowly he moves his head to the side, Instigated by the thumb pressing on his cheek. Instinctually he opens his mouth.

Something wet enters his mouth and his hair is pulled up dragging his head above water.

“dude, are you okay?!” Sho yelps, patting him harshly on the back to get the water out of his lungs “I knew this wasn't a good idea”

Roughly Leo elbows Sho let him go and he sits on the floor feeling his lungs and nose burn each time he breathes in.

As his sight stops being obscured by thick black fog his surroundings get clearer. It was supposed to be an offhanded mention by their teacher but, after the class insisted, he took them to an exceptionally big marble bird pond he claimed a person could see their future in if they dipped their head in yet he refused to allow any of the students to do so.

Unsurprisingly Leo's curiosity got the better of him and Sho fell alongside him, sneaking in to see if it was true.

Just behind Sho someone he wishes didn't have to see in a while appears, you.

“What is the NPC doing here?”The question fell from his lips almost like a hiss.

“Alan saw you two leaving Vagastorm after curfew and asked me to check” given how Leo seemed still too winded to stand sho tells you to help him drag him back to their dorm. As you hunch besides him and slide his arm behind your neck you notice something under his shirt “Leo, you have a cut there!” it isn't weird noting how he was positioned and the somewhat sharp edge of the birdpond.

Your fingers dance over the thin but long cut just above his clavicle, the white skin irritated red.

Regardless of how innocent this touch around his neck was, it was impossible to separate it from the previous sight into the future with the current one.

Now with newly gained strength he swats your hand away “don't get so handsy so quickly, NPC” and slides both arms over Sho's shoulders who just sighs and carries him princess style.

“Bye, senpai” Sho shoots you a quick goodbye before going away with Leo who he notices is far too quiet than usual but as he looks down he finds him blushing and even his ears dusted with cherry red “why are you even red faced? It isn't even the first time I hold you like this… Oh don't tell me-”

“Shut the fuck up”

“First bet you lose”

[30somethingautisticteacher]

WIP Wednesday

I wasn't officially tagged this week, but I still want to play 🙂🥰 so here is a little taste of the next chapter of my Bucktommy car accident fic, If Love is Pain, Then Lets Love Tonight:

"Can we have happy talk?" Tommy asked, his eyes meeting Buck's. "I don't want to brain right now."

Buck's face softened into a warm smile, grateful for Tommy's request and the opportunity to lift the mood. "Of course, sweetheart. What kind of happy talk would you like?"

Tommy's brow furrowed slightly as he thought. "Tell me... tell me about a good day we had. Something fun."

With a playful smirk, Buck leaned in slightly and said in a low voice, "Are we talking G-rated fun or more adult fun?" His eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Tommy's eyes widened slightly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. For a moment, he looked more like his old self as a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"Evan Buckley," Tommy said, his voice a mix of amusement and mock scandal, "are you trying to corrupt me in a hospital bed?"

Buck chuckled softly, happy to see a spark of Tommy's usual playfulness. "Hey, I'm just trying to cover all our bases here. We've had plenty of both kinds of fun, after all."

Tommy's grin widened. "Well, in that case... maybe a little of both? But keep it PG-13 at most. We are in a hospital, after all."

"Well, I can't tell you about our first date since that is probably my most embarrassing moment," Buck said, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

Tommy's eyes lit up with fond remembrance. "Oh, don't worry, I remember every second of that," he said, his voice warm with affection.

Buck rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Of course you do," he replied, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Tommy couldn't help but chuckle. "Come on, it wasn't that bad. It was... educational, really."

Buck raised an eyebrow. "Educational? I called myself an 'ally' and spent half the night talking about how hot chicks love firefighters. On a date. With a man."

After they finished laughing about the first date fiasco, Buck's expression softened, a mix of gratitude and love in his eyes.

"How about our first 'I love you's?" Tommy asked, his voice gentle.

Buck's eyes widened slightly, surprised by the suggestion. "Do you remember?" he asked, hope evident in his voice.

Tommy nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Then you tell me," Buck said softly, squeezing Tommy's hand encouragingly.

[xunandran]

Fuck it Friday (Firepilot Edition)

This episode was so good! But of course, I gotta make it nasty, lol! I would have been done, but I actually had to go back to work for 4 more hours after the episode was over, so I'm still working on the full fic, but have some Firepilot in honor of 07e06!

Full fic in the link! Not as nasty as I was going for, but still sweet!

“Mmmph.”

The enthusiastic crash of Evan’s lips against his is bewildering and intoxicating. He presses into the other man’s rough lips, crashing and tasting. He’s trying to be careful, trying to avoid imprinting too much of the fire’s afterthoughts into Evan’s clothes and skin. Evan is a beast though, the very definition of what he’d called him, and he’s ravenous. 

When they pull away, Tommy’s breathless, nearly dazed. This wasn’t “go looking for hot chicks” Evan or even “I don’t know what I’m ready for” Evan. Tommy stares at Evan’s resolute blue eyes, twinking with so much devious glee that he feels inexperienced and small. Evan’s face is smeared with soot, his lips are plump, pink, and Tommy just wants to kiss him again. 

Evan’s pulling him by the hand though, pulling him through the hospital’s halls toward Chimney’s room. “Evan. Your face.” But the other man doesn’t listen. He barrels forward singularly. Tommy might have been late, but he was going to be there. 

They’re out of breath by the time they reach the press. Whether that’s from the mad dash, the fire, or Evan’s kiss, Tommy doesn’t know. Evan turns and places his hands on Tommy’s scorched turnout jacket. “They’re man and wife. They’ve kissed the bride and groom. Wish them well, but be quick.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, confused.

Evan smirks, and it spikes through every nerve in Tommy’s exhausted body. “Because I really need to get those off of you… right now.”

“I-uh-Eva…” 

He doesn’t get to finish as Evan pulls him into the hospital room. “Hey! Look who almost made it!” 

The crowd turns to them, and Tommy smiles, soot stained and exhausted. “Congratulations, you two! I’m sorry I missed the ceremony!” 

Chimney nods and smiles. “Thanks Tommy! Looks like you two were… busy.”

Tommy’s honestly thankful for the grime to cover the blush, but Evan’s beaming, and he looks so handsome, soot smudged and all. 

Evan scoots through the crowd to hug his sister and Chimney, and Tommy does his best to make pleasantries without spreading the ash on his clothes. To his left, he hears Evan and Eddie talking, and then they hug, a great tight thing that suggests that maybe everything he might have assumed from yesterday was just a misinterpretation.  

As Evan takes his hand to pull them out of the door, Tommy hears Evan’s mother. “Where are you going?”

Evan stops and looks, first to Maddie, who smiles and nods, then to Eddie, who lightly shakes his head, almost as if he knows Evan’s thoughts better than the other man does. Finally, he looks back at Tommy and smiles before rounding on his parents. “I’m taking my date home to help him get cleaned up.” He doesn’t wait for their response. He pulls Tommy from the cramped hospital room and back down the hall. 

“Evan.” Tommy stops the other man’s frantic pace by digging in. Advantages to having size and muscle mass on your partner. Evan turns to him, smile dopey and giddy, but faltering slightly. “Are you okay?”

Evan scrubs at his mouth, and Tommy swears it just digs the grime in further. Tommy can hear the other man’s nervous swallow. “I-I just did that, huh?”

Tommy scoffs, but it’s a friendly sound. His eyes crinkle with warm affection, and his nose creases with a smile that is apparently enough to calm Evan, because the megawatt smile returns, teeth and sunshine. “You just did that. I hope you don’t feel like I-”

“No,” Evan interrupts, resolute. “I said you were my date today. You’re my date today.” He takes Tommy’s fingers in his, and the older man lightly thumbs along their joined digits. 

“Okay.”

Tommy watches in real time as Evan’s confidence returns. The man that had just been shaken from coming out to his entire world squared up and cockily slid closer. Tommy liked this Evan. No, that was accurate. He liked Evan - Neurotic, infodumping, nervous, and now cocksure, he liked them all.

“You wouldn’t think less of me if I put out on the first date, would you?” Evan’s words ghost between kisses. The kisses are warm and sweet, but Evan’s gaze and the way it rakes over him is anything but sweet. 

“I mean,” Tommy shrugs, lips in a tight smirk. “This isn’t our first date, so your virtue’s intact.”

Evan’s fingers slide into Tommy’s hair and lightly pull at the scalp. He kisses him again, fevered and needing. Tommy groans as Evan’s nails lightly rake against the back of his neck. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” 

Fucking hell, Evan. How was he supposed to resist an invitation like that?

Tommy lets Evan lead him to his jeep. He’s sore. He’s dirty. He’s exhausted. In all honesty, he doesn’t know how high Evan’s expectations are. He only hopes that the other man is understanding. They drive in comfortable silence to Harbor so Tommy can stow his kit and gather his things. Along the way, Evan takes Tommy’s hand and thumbs along the knuckles. Tommy watches him drive, cast in nothing but the slow strobe of streetlights to illuminate him. The lights pull shadows along his strong jaw, his nose, his adam’s apple. Evan catches him looking more than once, but Tommy doesn’t care.

[smoothestkriminal]

It’s just a party.

Hii everybody!!!

I’m so happy to share this fic with you guys :D

It’s based on the “10 things I hate about you” party scene.

I did a poll on who you’d rather have as a male lead and you guys chose: GOJO•*.

I tried my best on this so enjoy!!!

I'm not going satoru.

Famous last words of mine being taken back at this very moment. Here I am; out on a Friday night at some football wide receiver's house in a fancy neighborhood who's parents are out of town. Probably at boca or something too, get away.

Typically, this means a party till the neighbours call the cops and it gets shut down. I'm not one to go out at all. Not even often. I'’d rather stay home with latest novel and Friday night special of my favourite show. But nooo~ Mr. "My Friends Place will be fun" decided to drag me along since his latest fling decided to leave him for some artist since he's more in "depth" and "considerate." Trust me when I had to listen to his hour long rant about how it was, "wack" she left him, a quaterback, 6’4, phat, who was da bomb." For a "lowlife, artist wannabe, scrub." That's about it I presume.

Quit buggin. You never go out, you know girls who don't come out and party get cheated on?

His tone hinted teasing, he knows no man can live up to my standards.

Well luckily I don't have a boyfriend.

| shoot him a quick cheeky grin and immediately drop it. As we pull up to the house in his, can you believe, Honda. Satoru knew his car was better, and expensive, so he made sure to flaunt whenever he could. I step out the car and walk up the steps to hear big boom blasting a song which I partially recall from somewhere. My eye catches the residence sign; "Geto residence. 411." Of course it's suguru geto. He's not notorious for throwing ragers, although he has quite a reputation for getting the cops and neighborhood watch called on his house...

Screaming and loud yelling coming from the beginning of the hallways as we step into the house. Immediately suguru joins us with shoko beside him smoking a cig. Sator dabs up suguru back and greets him. My hand is pulled out my jeans pocket and motioned a wave to suguru, he just smiles back warmly and takes gojo with him somewhere while shoko links her arms with me and sits me down between some stoners and heavy drinkers while she mingles along them lighting a blunt in her hand simultaneously. I just stare into the abyss as I don't have a clue what to do nor say. l've never been to these parties. The only party l've been to recently is my uncle's 40th birthday party with him going on and on about his new landline and how it's "wireless.” But that's a story for another time.

Do I know you?

Some random guy sits next to me with a giant bottle of booze in his hand, clearly reeks of alcohol which I can tell he's wasted. He takes another sip of the bottle before he says to me:

Hey aren't you the chick in my math class? The like, super smart one? Dude your like such a ner-.

The music takes over my train of thought and whatever he said trailed off. The next thing I know is he shoves a shot of some type of liquid in my face and ushers me to drink it.

No thanks, I don't drink.

C’mon, don’t be a buzz kli. You want everyone to think you are one? Just take it-

Honestly I'm good-

I don't have a clue whether it was the loud blasted music speaker in the right corner of my ear telling me or the urge to, but I took that shot out his hand and smacked it down. The hard liquor going down my throat felt hot and strong. The taste was bitter with a hint of caramel. Judging by the feel of it, it was a hard and heavy concentration of alcohol. Maybe I'm a flyweight or just can't hold my liquor, but everything was a flash from there on out.

I'm walking down a dimmed hallways between screaming teens and bottles surround the floor, limping sort of mindlessly going, somewhere? Music changes from hard loud rap to something groovy and mellow. And I find, eventually, satoru surrounded by girls and suguru on his side with a drink in his hand.

Satoru notices me coming towards him and focuses on me moving to him like a zombie with me rubbing my head from spinning.

Hey sweet thing, where've you been?

Hmm?

All I could get out is a grunt and lean against his side as he puts his arm around me continuously talking to his friends. He notices how I'm sort of out of it and ask me if I'm okay?

Am-goothhss (I'm good.)

You sure? You drank something weird? Maybe I shouldn't have left you with shoko.

What you mean? Quit buggin-

I'm buggin? You know what lets dip I can't let anything bad happen to you, your dad'll freak if he sees me dropping his daughter off wasted at this late. Suguru I’m gonna bounce-

Nooo~. Im gonna dance!

He can tell my words are slurring and realizes my full drunk. Wondering how in the world that happened, dancing music starts to boom through speakers and I leave satorus side and head towards the dance circle formed in the middle of the house.

Wait- y/n! Don't go there- c'mon man! I gotta take you home..

This shirts too hot and I feel so suffocated. I take my Full sleeve tee off and luckily I'm wearing a tank underneath it so l'm not completely naked. I throw the shirt on the floor and satoru picks it up still coming after me, he grabs me by the wrist and jerks me back to come with him. I jut my arm down for him to let go and suddenly l'm dancing with some randos moving to the beat. Sator just stands there in disbelief with my top in his hand, his eyes staring at my arms flail up and side to side as my hips do the same. Suddenly I'm pulled up by my arms and onto a table in the middle of the corridor. All eyes are on me and I get sort of shy thinking for a moment what am I doing? I make an impulse and grab a shot out some guys hand who doesn't seem to mind and gulp it down. I put that shot glass down and Continue moving to the beat as others around me as well. The party's going on as more people join the dance circle and start to move as well.

Satorus eyes widen with shock as suguru comes up to him and smirks while whispering to him:

That's your lady right there entertaining other guys, you gonna do something?

As he's told that he looks around to see almost every guy staring at you dancing with a perverted look in their eyes, some trying to skim through the crowd and approach you- he feels a sort of rage and jealousy brush over him and leaves suguru side who's still smirking as he watches. Satoru forcefully pushing others aside, grabs you by the waist and puts you over his shoulder while heading towards the door. You too drunk to even register what was happening look up and realise your being taken. You don't worry although as you understand it's satoru.

What are you doing satoruuu~ I wanteh to danceuh...

You’re drunk y/n. We're leaving right now.

Who are you, my father? Stop worrying and let's partayuh-!

My words keep on slurring which cause gojo to smirk and sigh with exasperation.

Maybe I shouldn't have urged you to come out tonight. Especially since all those guys have the nerve to stare at you like what, imagine what they were thinking...

Whut???

Nothing. Just next time, don't be putting on a show for guys.

He opens the car door and places you in it. As he gets in he makes sure your all right- to only see you passed out slouching against the window. He brushes back your hair that's in your mouth as you snore away. He thinks to himself why he's seething with jealousy right now? He's never looked at you in this type of light before. You?! His best friend. You weren't the type of girls he wasn't into at all. You stayed home all day unless it was school or the library. You rarely wore dresses unless it was a special occasion, you had more pairs of jeans that the average person and read for fun. Fun! He's seen you as if you were a Brother.

So why was he so tempted to kiss you right now?.

I regain my consciousness to see it's still dark out and I'm pulling up in front of my house.

Satoru what time is it?

W-what?

What's the time???

That was weird..

Uhh- it's about.. 2:00 in the morning.

What?! No way my dad'll kill me!

Wait- y/n

He stops my hand from opening the door and I look back at him. His blue eyes lock on mine as he stutters to say something.

I-I. do gosh why am I stuttering?! Do you remember tonight?!

No, not really. Gosh my heads pounding.

Satoru looks conflicted on whether or not he should say what he feels like or let you peacefully go to bed. Heavy breaths, eye contact locked on with raw emotion piercing through them, just wanting to tell you something- anything!

Nevermind, Sleep tight.

..Tonight was fun, bye.

He watched her open the cars door and slump out walking to the door. Glancing at him for a second before unlocking the door and stepping in closing the door behind her.

Maybe next time..

Tch- dammit satoru.

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! You’re talking requests! I love your writing and I really hope you like this idea!

Okay, mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Reader is a hot alt chick and has been friends with Eddie for a while. He’s had so many chances to make a move, but he never did despite all the mutual bonding and heart eyes

Reader can’t be led on anymore and has to get over him. So, she relents and goes out with Billy since he keeps asking

*chaos ensues*

Eddie and Billy confrontation?

Eddie spills his guts?

Of course, take what elements you want and leave the rest. These are just ideas and don’t all need to be used. I trust you to craft a good story, even if you only pick one element

Thank you so much! And it's definitely a fun idea :)

I got your other message about smut with Dom Eddie so I'll give it my best shot. I'm new to Dom Eddie so sorry if he sucks

⚠️angst at first then smut

Not proofread

Y/N and Eddie, the name just fit together. They looked great together. They were alternative, matching t-shirts and ripped jeans. Black boots with matching colored laces. The left shoe is blue for Eddie, the right is red for her. No matter where they went, those laces never changed colors.

The two were side by side no matter what. His arm was thrown over her shoulder and her body tucked into his side. Anyone who saw them knew they were in love.

But yet, they weren't together, just friends.

Friends who were in love but weren't good at communicating it.

She made it clear that she was down badly for Eddie Munson, straight to his face. Always touching him in places a friend isn't supposed to touch. Staring deep in his eyes when her foot trailed up his leg. Quite literally scared of any girl that looked in his direction.

But he didn't pick up on anything

Until new years

~~

She wasn't drunk at all, she was stone cold sober because she had a plan for tonight and she wanted to remember it. She was going to kiss her best friend. If he was too dumb to pick up any of her hints, she'll shove it down his throat instead.

She was searching for the whole party as the countdown started. Anxiety in her that she was going to miss this chance.

"slow down sweetheart"

She rolled her eyes as Billy Hargrove blocked her pathway. A smirk on his pretty lips and devious in his blue eyes

"Billy not now!"

She rushed past him.

Billy Hargrove has been after her for months. But she always said no, she wanted Eddie and she wasn't going to miss her chance. Billy didn't quite take no as an answer. Always pestering and asking.

She finally found him, sipping on a red solo cup as his eyes scanned the crowd

3

She raced quicker to him, pushing back everyone in her way

2

"EDDIE!" she screamed, grabbing his attention fast as he smiled. Laughing as she threw girls over left and right

"what's up pretty girl?"

1

She didn't respond. Smashing her lips on to his with everything she had. Throwing her body into him harshly, feeling his drink drop to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Moaning as he yanked her closer. Her hands got lost in his hair. His mouth tasted of cheap beer and cigarettes but she loved it.

He pulled away first, eyes blown huge as he looked down at her.

Her lipstick was smudged, no doubt all over him.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" he yelled, screaming over the music

"NEW YEARS" she yelled back, a proud smile on her face. Kissing him again like she couldn't get enough.

If that didn't show him then she doesn't know what will

~~

Apparently it STILL wasn't enough to show him she liked him

The next morning she felt happier than ever. She got dressed for the winter cold fast, the gang were going ice skating today. The thought of holding Eddie's hand as they raced on the ice had her heart racing. Imagine him in a cute beanie with a red nose. Complaining about how stupid it is to be skating on actual ice in negative degree weather.

She pulled up to the rink excitedly, a bounce in her step as she reached the group.

Her eyes fell on Eddie first, then to the hand he was holding. It was like all get excitement vanished.

"um who is this?" She asked awkwardly. She had her tongue down his throat less than 24 hours ago and he brought a girl to their ice skating hangout.

"I'm Lia!" The girl said excitedly, high pitched voice rang through the rink

Everyone's body flinched at the sound but kept a smile on their face to be polite.

"let's get you some skates!" Nancy said, grabbing Lia and the gang with her. Leaving Y/N and Eddie alone.

"Eddie what the fuck!" She scoffed, eyes glaring at his face. She hated that he wore the stupid hat and the fact that his nose was red

"what?"

"you bring a girl on a date? When did you even meet her?"

"at the party. Look we hooked up and she wouldn't leave! She heard Dustin talk about ice skating and basically got in my van. I didn't know what to do" he explained. Flinching as he heard her loud giggle

"you slept with her?" Now that hurts Y/N way more than just getting plain rejected. She was pissed and it was clear on her face

"yeah? What's with the attitude?" He scoffed, shaking his head like he was disappointed and embarrassed by her behavior

" you are such an asshole" she practically spat in his face

"woah! Hey I didn't do shit" he defended

The one flaw about these two, they were both hard headed. Easily refusing to ever be wrong.

"are you kidding me? I kiss you and you brought another girl home?"

"yeah we kissed. It was new years. I didn't think it was a big deal. Not like it meant anything" he defended his actions. Eyes searching her face for what emotion she was feeling

And she felt her heart snap. The way he said it so carefree, like to him it was just a stupid kiss.

Her silence shook him to his core. Stepping closer as he let out a shaky breath

"it didn't mean anything right?" His voice cracked in nerves. If that kiss meant something to her he fucked up. He easily just hurt his only best friends feelings.

"yeah, you're right. Just new years" she spat, knocking into his shoulder roughly as she went to grab her skates.

"oh fuck" he sighed to himself. He fucked up and he fucked up bad. Of course the kiss meant something to him but he was scared she only did it for the sake of the holiday. Or that she was so drunk she didn't know what she was doing. When he left with Lia she was chatting it up with a boy on the basketball team. He figured she was planning to leave with someone else so he should do the same.

"wait!" He said fast. Turning around to run after her when he saw Billy Hargrove walk up to her. Jealousy burning in his skin as she giggled and smiled.

~~

"Okay Max made me come but I have never once skated. Can you please help me?" He practically begged

"is Billy Hargrove admitting he is bad at something?" She gasped, laughing as he glared over at her

"it's not funny. I can't make a fool of myself in front of this gorgeous girl so you need to help me" he winked, stepping closer to her.

At this point she usually brushes him off. Ignoring his advances because of Eddie.

But Eddie didn't seem to like her

She was just a friend to him

And a boy like Billy Hargrove can make her forget

~~

Eddie glared as he watched Y/N hold Billy's hand as they skated on the ice.

It may have been negatives out but he felt hot to the touch.

He wanted to punch the smile right off of Billy's lips

Kick him in the balls so he wouldn't get any ideas

"sorry dude. But he really likes her and that never happens. He won't give up" Max sighed as she stopped next to Eddie, leaning on the edge as she took a breather.

"well he should. Not like she's ever been interested" Eddie growled. His arms crossed over his chest as he watched them skate closer and closer

"after the big fuck up you just did, he definitely has a shot" Max laughed, smacking Eddie on the shoulder as she staked to join the couple.

Eddie watched as Billy spun Y/N around on the ice. Max laughing as she spun around too.

For once Y/N's eyes never landed on Eddie.

~~

It didn't get much better for Eddie.

Billy officially asked her on a date and she said yes.

Eddie hated that the date went well. She talked about it for days. Billy was romantic and completely took her breath away.

And Eddie hated it.

He hated watching her in her tiny dress, smiling in the mirror as she sprayed on her perfume.

Anger and jealousy forming in his stomach when she smeared the perfume on her ankles

"slutting it up tonight are we?" He growled out

She rolled her eyes and set down her perfume bottle

Ignoring him as she went to put on her boots

"no tights? You are going to give him the wrong idea!" Eddie spat out

She ignored him again, standing up as she checked herself in the mirror

"don't ignore me"

She shivered as he growled behind her, right on her ear. His hot body was practically smashed into her back.

"you want him to fuck you or something?" Eddie mocked.

She could see how pissed off he was in the mirror. Smirking at him, "jealous Eddie?"

She turned around to face him. Her own face stone cold of any expression

"no. I just don't think you need to be a whore and sleep with him on the second date"

"that's too bad. Because honestly I've been dripping ever since new years" she spat, shoving his shoulder as she walked to her bed, going to grab her jacket when she felt Eddie force her on the sheets

Growling as he laid on top of her. His knee shoved between her thighs

Air got caught in her throat as she tried to ignore the pulsing in her cunt.

"for him or me baby?" He teased, a dark smirk on his face as his hand slowly worked up her dress. Teasing her body over the thin material

"fuck you" she spat, she wanted to shove him off but one wrong move and her clit would be pressing against his knee. Making her even more weak.

"oh pretty girl. You will and you're going to like it" he growled, sitting up, his knee still in between her thighs

He yanked off his shirt, smirking as her eyes traced over his skin.

He leaned over her body, mouth close to her ear as he kissed her neck. Wet and sloppy kisses all over her throat, moving down to her collar bones

"Eddie" she moaned. Her hands wanted to dig into his hair but she needed some self control

He smirked at her moans, yanking down the top of her dress, growling as her tits spilled out

He bit down on the skin, swirling his tongue around her nipples. Leaving blotchy hickies everywhere. His hands groped them as he moved his knee further up, easily hitting her clit

"Fuck" she whined. Her head thrown back as he pressed against her clit harder. Hands still working on her tits

"you like that don't you? Pretty tits baby" he groaned, kissing the skin before pulling away

She didn't even know she was doing it at first. Her hips rocking against his knee as she pleased herself. Moaning as his rough jeans rubbed her just right.

"riding my knee baby?" He mocked. Loving how her body was moving against his

He laughed as she stopped. Eyes closing as she covered her face

"don't be embarrassed. It's so fucking hot. Ride my knee baby, make yourself cum" he growled his hands ripping hers away.

She looked at him and nodded. Watery eyes as she began to move her hips again

Moaning loudly as he moved his knee with her

He could die happily listening to her needy and pitchy moans. So submissive just like he thought she would be.

"not so tough now are you baby? You are pissed at me, hate me but yet rubbing your pretty pussy on my knee. Desperate to cum"

She whined at his teasing. Hating the way it made her body hotter and hips move faster. Closing her eyes as she desperately moved against him

"just shut up" she moaned, lifting up her dress as she moved herself faster on his knee.

He clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. Ripping his knee away from her thighs

"WAIT NO" she cried. Eyes flying open as she watched him stand up

"bad girls with bad mouths don't get to cum when they want" he hissed. Unbuckling his jeans as she breathed hard

A pout on her lips as she shivered under his heated glare

She moaned as he removed his boxers, his cock was hard and already dripping with precum.

He didn't say a word, just yanking off her dress and tearing off her panties. She moaned at his roughness as he threw her clothes around her room.

Taking a step back to look at her naked body. Slowly pumping himself as he stared at every piece of her skin

"stop staring" she whined. Going to cover herself when he threw her arms over her head, holding them in a rough grip

His voice was deep and hard as he spoke to her. His eyes are full of lust and desire. She's never seen his eyes so black and dark before

"don't you even think about hiding from me. So fucking gorgeous"

She moaned as he teased his cock over her clit. Moving himself between her lips but never once entering her. Loving the way she squirmed, her hands still being held by his harsh grip

"you want this?" He asked softly, the old Eddie appearing back in his eyes. She was dripping from the fact he was so ready to ruin her but could switch back in seconds

"yes fuck me Eddie. Please" she whined, her head thrown back as he slapped his hard cock against her clit. Her thighs twitching and trapping him between her

Then he switched back

His eyes dark as he shoved himself inside of her. Fully and stuffing her completely

"EDDIE GOD" she screamed. He released her grip, allowing her nails to scratch down his back as she tried to get used to feeling him inside of her

He gave her a few seconds to adjust. Just slowly moving his hips, using every bit of self control to not completely ruin her

"shh. You can take it" he whispered in her ear, slowly pulling out and shoving himself back in. She screamed as he picked up his pace. Roughly fucking her. Loving the way she clenched around him.

Her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she tried to grip onto his skin

Hissing as her nails continued to break his skin open but he loved it

He was moaning as he lost himself inside of her

She was wet, warm and tight. Everything he pretended his hand was when he touched himself

Always thinking about this exact moment

"SHIT...FUCK" she was screaming as he somehow went faster

His hands gripped her head board as he thrusted himself in and out of her. As hard as he can. Loving the way his balls slapped against her ass. The sound of their bodies smacking into each other. The sound of her bed creaking as he fucked out all of his anger and jealousy.

"bet he couldn't fuck you like this" Eddie growled as he grabbed her legs, throwing them over his shoulders

Inhaling the perfume she smeared earlier

Smirking as fucked her harder

"he doesn't have a good enough cock like I do. He wouldn't know how to make you fucking scream" he growled as he smashed his body on hers. Her legs wrapped around his shoulders as he pounded into her. Moaning as his naked chest was rubbing against her nipples.

She was a screaming, blabbering mess. No real words leaving her mouth

"fucked stupid now aren't you?" He mocked, his hand gripping around her throat

She whined even louder. One of her hands holding on the one that was choking her

"you don't know how long I've thought about this pussy. How many girls I fucked imagining you" he growled as he got himself closer. She was too tight, she was clenching him too good

"mhhm yeah?" She choked out. A small smirk on her face. She was taking all of it and she loved it. She loved him thinking of her, loved that no matter where she was, she was in his head

"yeah baby. Even say your name when I cum. They get so pissed"

"oh fuck" she moaned. The thought alone had her close

"you like that? Huh? Knowing I scream your name when I bust my load into other girls? You jealous slut" he released the grip on her neck

Moving between their bodies as he rubbed her clit

"YES RIGHT THERE" she screamed. Her legs unhooking from his shoulders as they shook

Her body thrashing as she moved her hips with his

"you are a jealous asshole" she teased. Yanking his hair as she dug her teeth in his neck

"yeah I am. No one gets to fuck this pussy but me. Mine now right?"

The way he was staring into her eyes had her clenching. Gasping as she felt her orgasm a blink away

"say it or you don't get to cum" he stopped his fingers completely. Just resting them on her clit, no pressure added

"NO KEEP GOING PLEASE" she cried, feeling his hips also still inside of her

"say this pussy is mine and you get to cum"

"Eddie please"

"say it baby"

"please fuck"

"say it"

"MY PUSSY IS YOURS. IT'S YOURS. ALL YOURS"

He smirked as he rubbed her faster, fucking her hard

"IM CUMMING" she screamed. Her arms reached over his shoulders. Clinging on him as she came. Soaking his cock completely in her cum. Her thighs shaking against the bed as she screamed in his ear. Holding on to him as hard as she could. Otherwise she felt she might disappear into the mattress

"good girl. Keep cumming. I got you. Make a mess on my cock. Come on"

She shuttered as he rubbed her clit through her orgasm

His cock still pumping inside of her as he chased his own orgasm

"fuck" he moaned, going to pull out but she gripped his ass

Shoving him inside of her

"cum in me please" she whined

Eddie's eyes rolled in the back of his head

"want me to cum in you? Huh? Have both our cum inside your pussy?"

"yes Eddie fuck. Cum for me. Cum in me. Fill me up" he moaned at her words

Few last thrusts and his body was shaking. His thrusts got sloppy as he shuttered against her body. Moaning as he felt his balls tighten and his load shooting inside of her

"fuck I love you" he groaned into her wet skin

"I love you too" she gasped, feeling his hot load fill her

He collapsed on her

Both breathing heavy as he slowly slipped out

Watching as their mix cum began to spill out

His quickly scooped it up and shoved it back in

She whined and tried to push his hand away from her sensitive cunt

"no more" she said breathlessly

"I know baby. Just got to keep it on you" softly fingering it back into her

They laid there for a few seconds to catch their breath, under the covers

"what time is the date?" Eddie asked as he looked over her naked body to check the clock

"there isn't one" she smirked, rolling on top of him

"are you shitting me? You brought me here to watch you get ready for a fake date?" He laughed

"how else was I gonna get you to fuck me" she teased, kissing his lips softly. Finally tasting him again. Allowing herself to fall into this kiss. Every emotion and everything she wanted to say

He kissed her back just as hard. Wrapping his arms around her naked body. Tongue slipping into her mouth as she grinded on his soft cock

"don't do that" he gasped, gripping her hips to stop her

"I'm not done with you Eddie" she smirked

Slowly disappearing under the covers

Eddie definitely got the hint now

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt6

pt 1 pt 5

It’s your turn to take Abby on a date!

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

Notes: Kisses, book snobbism. (I didn't mention any book names that they're criticising and the name of Abby's favourite book so you could put what you want there). The butt song - Juicy, and the lyrics Abby's thinking about are "If you could see it from the front, wait 'til you see it from the back".

Special thanks to @ohlawdthebirds for helping me out with Abby's book taste!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It didn't take long for Abby to start calling you her girlfriend after your first date. It just felt… natural to her. Abby didn't even notice how she said "oh, that's my girlfriend, (y/n)" when someone asked her about you, because people asked. Abby didn't mind unless the person who was asking acted like they had a chance with you or made some inappropriate comments about your body - it was one thing to say you were hot and another thing to describe what someone’d do to you if they could. Abby now thought you were a fucking saint for dealing with these assholes as peacefully as you did, because she? She wanted to strangle them with her bare hands and she would if they didn't go away fast enough. Abby was scary, and people could definitely feel her fury just by standing next to her. 

Of course, when you first heard her calling you her girlfriend you went red in the face and had this cute wide smile that made Abby melt and buzz and be so soft she might as well turn into Baymax. She was worried for a second - what if she was moving too fast? It was hard to tell with you: your boundaries were palpable, but you were so sweet and responsive, so she couldn’t be sure you’d have a negative reaction. And then you smiled at her bashfully and now the word “girlfriend” was the most frequently used word in her vocabulary. 

The other perk - except for obvious, you were officially hers now - was how nervous her teammates got when she was sitting with them during your practice. It was like they had a fear of God in them, watching you dance and knowing Abby was right there and Abby would definitely kick their asses if they said something wrong. It filled Abby with such joy she’d act tough with them on purpose just to see them stammering - it was so fun to mess with them. 

The only person who wasn’t scared of Abby was Manny, and he’d always comment on “you got lucky, Anderson, this chick is something else”, “oh fuck me, are you telling me I can’t appreciate the beauty? The skill? Girl’s got moves”, “it’s your civic duty to keep her satisfied, Abs, she is feeding us a three-course meal”. Depending on how obnoxious Manny was, Abby would either chuckle or slap his stupid head, but she knew he was kind-hearted, so she didn’t actually fight him. 

And now Abby got to walk around the university campus and steal you to make out somewhere secluded, because now she was allowed to. It wasn't like you didn't let her kiss you - quite the opposite, you silently asking for a kiss was Abby's fucking kryptonite - but now you were more relaxed around her. Abby didn’t even notice you were tense before, but now the difference between nervous you and relaxed you was striking. It was still too easy to make you blush, but now your hands slithered around her waist like they belonged there, with familiarity Abby’s heart ached for. 

 Abby’s anatomy class just ended when she texted you to find out where you were (‘dining hall’) and she made her way to the dining hall, because she hasn’t seen you for two days - to think of it, god both of your schedules were absolutely fucked. You’ve seen each other more often at the activity centre than on the campus - which was ridiculous. So Abby collected her things, said her goodbyes and went to the dining hall.

When Abby walked into the dining hall her only goal was to find you, while a lot of people came around to say hi and ask her questions. Usually it was nice, but right now it was irritating - all those people distracted her from her search. And then she noticed you, sitting alone at the table, reading through something on your phone - Abby knew this look on you, eyes glued to the screen, brows a little furrowed and whatever you had in front of you abandoned. Fuck you were attractive like that - it wasn’t even about your looks, it was purely about your brains.

Abby quickly grabbed some food and walked to your table, watching how close she’d need to get before you notice her. The answer was: she needed to sit at your table before you looked up at her. 

“What are you doing?” Abby asked, mostly referring to the reading.

“I keep it juicy-juicy, I eat that lunch.” You answered in a flat tone, your face fully blank, as you pointed at your plate which was half-finished.

 Abby couldn’t contain her snort - you had no business to be funny, but fuck, you saying lyrics to Doja Cat in flat voice? Ridiculous. 

“I meant, what are you reading?”

“My prof’s notes on my paper.” You scrunched your nose. “She is right, mostly, but I’ve never felt more academically inferior.”

Abby laughed and you both sprang into conversation, discussing everything and nothing at the same time, just catching up for those two days - sometimes you both were so busy you couldn’t even text each other regularly, so now Abby’s hands itched. She knew she was staring at you - who wouldn’t, you were so pretty - but she couldn’t help herself. Abby listened to you, absorbing your voice like a sponge while you both ate, but she needed something else.

“Do you have free time now?”

“Around half an hour.” You said after you checked the time. “What’s up?”

“Gonna steal you.” Abby said and watched with joy how your cheeks became pink. 

You both finished your lunch and left the dining hall. The weather was nice today, though a little cold, so Abby took her jacket off and put it on your shoulders, rejoicing in her own possessiveness of you - it was her jacket on you, not someone else’s. Especially stupid jerks from your classes. And you wrapped it around yourself with a small smile that did something to Abby’s insides - in these moments she felt like she could conquer the whole fucking world. 

Abby spotted the big wide tree that could give you privacy and led you to it, not even trying to be subtle - she needed to put her hands on you. 

"I feel like I'm a teenager again." You laughed as Abby tugged to the tree. 

"And how often did you get caught kissing girls during breaks?" 

Abby tried to be polite and waited until you leaned against the tree, helping her play this little game where you talk and stand conveniently close to pretend it was a normal social situation.

"What do you think?" You asked, coy. Abby chuckled and moved close enough to put her hand on your neck. 

"I think you're too smart to get caught." Abby whispered in your lips before she kissed you. 

It was Abby's favourite part: feeling how you relaxed against her, hugging her waist and ever so slightly pressing her closer, as if she'd stop you. So Abby doubled down and pressed you against the tree hard enough so your bodies would be flush against each other, but not hard enough so your back would hurt from the tree bark. You sighed into her mouth and she deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly playing with your tongue, sharing the taste of the strawberry candy you ate during lunch. 

Abby moved her hand under your shirt, stroking your side with her thumb as you shuddered and your knees grew weak - her touch to your bare skin lit you up like a Christmas tree. Abby squeezed your side and pulled you closer, marvelling at how soft you were, how gentle your fingers were on her jaw as you kissed her back with enthusiasm. 

"I've missed you." You whispered in Abby's mouth and something warm filled her chest. 

"Me too, doll." Abby kissed your jaw, her mouth slowly moving down your neck. "Tell me if this is not okay." 

"Why wouldn't it be?" You said shortly to hide your quiet moan. 

Abby didn't say anything and kept kissing your neck, nibbling at your skin as she moved down to your collarbones, her hand caressing your stomach now. You couldn't move anywhere, her thigh pressing between your thighs all the way to the tree. Abby's head got filled with a picture of you just grinding on her thigh like this and she had to move away a little before she could help you, her self-control slowly going out of the window. 

"Fuck." Abby sighed as your foreheads met. "Did I tell you how crazy you make me?"

You blushed a little, shy smile tugging at your lips. Abby watched you, her hand still stroking your stomach. 

"Every time we end up in this situation." You chuckled. "Are you free this Saturday?"

Abby looked at you, surprised, but not sure by what: by your question or by how you looked a little bit insecure, as if Abby would reject you. She knew now it was because you didn't have a lot of experience in being forward, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to see. 

"Yeah. You wanna do something?"

"Yeah." There you go, Abby thought as you smiled, now feeling safe again. 

"Are you going to tell me?" Abby asked playfully as she pinched your stomach slightly.

"Oh, I'm not telling you shit." You smiled deviously and Abby laughed. She knew not telling you anything about your first date would bite her in the ass.

"All right, then. Keep your secrets." Abby said as you giggled and pulled her in another kiss. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby wasn’t nervous, no. Of course she wasn’t, why would she be? It wasn’t like she didn’t like being in the dark about your plans for today. No, she was chill. She was cool. She was okay with not being in control. 

Abby’s fingers were tapping a fast rhyme on the steering wheel as she waited for you to come down. At least you were merciful enough to tell Abby what would be appropriate to wear (“casual”) so Abby put on her favourite pair of jeans, her sleeveless shirt and a jacket. She was hoping she was dressed appropriately - it was very unlikely that you'd have clothes her size, unless you had a secret stack of oversize clothes she didn't know of. 

Now Abby began to understand why you asked her so many questions, but just as you trusted her, Abby decided to trust you back - that was the fun of it, surprising your girl with something she'd like. You were definitely not taking her to do any sports activities, so she'd be fine. 

Abby looked over the door to your apartment complex and once again she stopped breathing as she watched you come closer: you and your little outfits always left her speechless. She noticed in surprise that this was the first time she saw you in jeans and she was scared for herself when she'd see the back of those jeans. The fucking Doja Cat with her fucking butt song, Abby thought as she left the car to greet you. 

You smiled at her and leaned into the kiss right away, not shy anymore. Abby couldn't help herself and accidentally touched your butt, enjoying how dense and hard it was because of the denim. She didn't know if you'd noticed, but you didn't say anything so she didn't say anything too. 

"Are you going to tell me now where we are going?" Abby asked as you two sat in the car and she started the engine. 

"I'm going to give an address where we can park and then we'll have to walk a little." You said with that naughty smile you gave Abby when you wanted to be a little shit. Cute little shit, but still.

"It's not rock climbing?" Abby asked jokingly. 

"No. I'd have warned you." You said genuinely. "We can go rock climbing next time if you want."

Abby smiled, suddenly shy - she wasn't used to someone caring about her, as she usually was a carer.

The road took around twenty minutes and Abby put some music on - when you rode with her for the first time she offered you to put your music on, but you said you wanted to listen to her music and now when you both were in the car Abby'd pick something and then you both would exchange songs, turning them on through Abby's spotify. Now Abby's recommendations were fucked: the mix of her rock and classic with your rnb and kpop ("I know," you said as if you expected Abby to have some prejudice against kpop, "but they work with the best choreographers and I'm not passing up on opportunity to have a readymade tailored choreo"). But Abby didn't mind - some of the songs reminded her of your dancing anyway, and you'd dance with your hands to some of them, which was cute as fuck. 

Abby parked the car when you spotted the free space - and she pretended she didn't notice you staring at her with pink cheeks as she was going in reverse with one hand on your seat. Abby knew she looked hot when she did it, and well. She did it for you anyway.

You two left the car and you immediately took Abby's hand to tug her gently as you walked her to the place. 

"I hope you won't think I'm boring." You said as you two turned the corner. 

"Are you going to make me look at rich people's portraits?" Abby asked with suspicion. 

There was nothing more boring for her than to walk around dusty art galleries and look at dark ugly portraits. She liked nature or even good portraits, but ones that were done on black canvas with clear signs of inbreeding on their faces? No thank you. 

"Well, no. But thanks for telling me before I started planning our next date." You laughed and stopped. 

Abby looked at the place and now she understood why you said that. You were standing in front of the bookshop - and not the one that had a shop in each city, but this kind of bookshop that looks straight up from movies. It was two stories tall, with big windows and nice, interesting displays. It looked old, and maybe it was actually old, Abby didn't know. 

"I wanted to do a book date." You admitted, getting shy. "You know, when we walk around and talk about books?" 

Abby nodded, totally smitten. It was such a cute idea and it was definitely something Abby would like: geeking out about books she read while you'd geek out about books you've read? 

"And there's a coffee shop on the second floor, so we can get coffee." You continued, now looking around as the nerves got the best of you.

Abby quickly squeezed your hand to make you look at her, because she would not let you get upset. 

"Fuck, (y/n). I'm going to talk your ear off." Abby chuckled and watched how your face lit up.

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course." Abby leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You wiggled a little in anticipation and you two went inside the shop. There were not a lot of people and it was pleasantly quiet. The first display was "most popular" and you two got stuck there immediately. 

Abby looked through the manga, sci-pop and modern novels, not really impressed with people's taste. 

"Have you read this?" You pointed at one of the books and Abby shook her head. She did recognize the book from her booktok recommendations, but it didn't catch her interest. "Good for you, because this? This is a crime against literature."

Abby suddenly felt relieved: she wasn't sure if you'd be as snobby as she was with your books. Abby knew already you had different taste in literature, and somewhere in her mind Abby was scared you'd read something she'd absolutely hate. 

"Why?" 

"The language of this thing is just abominable. I swear to god the author doesn't know about different sentence lengths. Or it could've been done for a reason, but I definitely failed to find it." You shrugged and Abby smiled at you. 

You moved on from the "popular now" display pretty fast, and you walked through the next shelves without much pause: they were maps and cultural guides you both didn't have any interest in. Next shelves were poetry and you tugged Abby to them, showing her your favourites. Abby in return pointed at authors she couldn't understand for the life of her ("I'd need a vocabulary to understand half of it") and you giggled. Then Abby spotted a collection of ancient Greek tragedies and her nerd brain activated as she retold some of them to you in modern terms while you laughed your face off. 

"Medea invented female rage." Abby said it like she had on good authority, nodding seriously and you giggled. 

"You make ancient literature sound fun, Abby." You said as you curled to her side, your hand in her hand.

Abby melted from your warmth and kissed your temple. Then she continued her geeking out by telling how ancient Greek theatre worked and you listened with big curious eyes and Abby blushed a little from such undivided attention from you. 

Then you moved on to classic prose and discussed which books you had to read in school, which ones you hated and which ones made you cry. ("Les Misérables?" "Les Miserables") Abby loved Hugo just as much as you did - but she was the type of person to read through 20 pages of description of Notre Dame and then find out if it was accurate (but she cried about Esmeralda's fate anyway). You showed her some books you absolutely despised in school but liked them when you reread it a few years later. 

You politely ignored the shelves with modern detectives and action and moved on to fantasy. You both found out your love for books started with children's fantasy, even though you've read different series - and you gushed to each other about your childhood favourites. 

“You think you need a vocabulary for poetry? Try reading this without any prior knowledge.” You pointed at the part of the shelf where Tolkien’s books were placed. 

“There’s actually editions with annotations.” Abby shared with you as she touched some of the books, just admiring them. “I have that edition of The Hobbit, if you want to.”

“Oh. That’d be cool.” You nodded and Abby chuckled. 

Eventually you got stuck between non-fiction shelves, discussing which books you liked and which books were..not that good. Abby’s snobby side got a chance to shine when you were going through self-improvement books - she hated them. (I mean, what kind of adult can’t figure out time management? It’s like people forgot what university was like). You didn’t agree with her there (yeah, but you have a schedule that is made for you, and then suddenly you're a full on adult with zero skill in planning your time. I think it’s nice that people can at least try to learn this skill). It was a small disagreement but for Abby it was significant - the way you two had different opinions and it wasn’t a problem, but an opportunity to learn. She suddenly hoped that every disagreement you two would have in the future would be just as this one - an honest desire to understand each other. 

Abby didn’t notice how long you were in the bookshop - it felt like 15 minutes when in reality it took you almost 2 hours to get through everything and talk about it. At one point when Abby was geeking out about some cool history books, you shyly leaned in to her and asked for a book recommendation and Abby just. Stopped functioning, her brain going into overdrive - you asked her for a book recommendation. For a second Abby just stood there, but then she grinned and went to find her favourite with your hand in hers. 

Abby gave you the book and waited for your reaction - what if you read it already? What if you read it and didn’t like it? 

“It’s actually on my reading list.” You said, delighted. “Thank you, Abby.” You leaned in and left a kiss on her cheek, while she smiled bashfully. “Wanna grab some coffee?”

“Yeah.”

You bought the book after you managed to convince Abby you’d pay for it, not her - and she was standing next to you trying not to pout. Abby wanted to take care of you, doesn’t mean in which way - actually, in all ways - but she shouldn't control you. So she stopped arguing about who will pay for the book and let you handle it. 

You went to get your coffee - surprisingly, the coffee shop had more people in it than the whole book shop - and sat by the window, watching the sun go down. Abby watched how golden light hit your face, making you look downright unreal: all soft and relaxed and pretty, so damn pretty. She couldn’t look away from your eyes that changed colour under the light as you looked somewhere far away, just enjoying the company and the place. You’ve noticed Abby’s stare and blushed, confused.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Except pure unadulterated beauty? No, nothing.” Abby grinned as you giggled, your face fully red now. 

You put your hand across the table and Abby took it, intertwining your fingers together as she stroked your palm with her thumb.

“Sometimes I think you say such things just to make me blush.” You said playfully and Abby laughed.

“I’m still telling the truth.” Abby shrugged. 

You laughed  and looked at Abby like you wanted to remember every little detail of her face, absorbing her. How the existence of one person can change your life, you thought, because Abby changed your life not just for the better, but for the best.

[infinite-orangepeel]

i’ve had your perv eddie/camboy steve on the brain all day 🫠 thinking about how eddie said he wasn’t very good looking, so i’m imagining steve’s surprise when the virgin creep is?? hot, actually?? and telling eddie that he has a very cute and rideable face

link to pt. 1 of camboy!steve/perv!eddie

first of all, thank you so much for putting these thoughts in my brain 💛 i'm so glad you enjoyed the first part of the au !! :)

second of all, yes. YES. eddie is fucking hot. undeniably so. it's a fact. like we all know this, but he doesn't really realize it yet, himself. he's insecure, awkward, and has next to no experience with anything romantic/sexual.

everything he's learned about sex, he's learned from watching porn, flipping through dirty magazines, and scrolling down to the depths of reddit forums.

everything he's learned about dating/flirting, he's learned from cheesy movies, late-night wikihow searches (i.e. how to get a boy to like you back? or how to kiss with tongue?), and observing from the sidelines when gareth tries to pick up chicks at 'the hideout'.

he's always been a weirdo, an outcast, a nerd. the kid in class that parent's warned their kids to stay away from. he never got invited to birthday parties, asked out to school dances, or heard through the grapevine that some boy or girl thought he was 'cute.'

quite the opposite.

boys made fun of him for having long hair, playing d&d, and doing drama.

girls sprinted in the opposite direction of him for cracking untimely jokes, walking on cafeteria tables, and saving bugs instead of squashing them.

so, eddie, now in his mid-twenties and long since graduated from high-school, doesn't exactly have much reason to think of himself as anything special to look at.

meanwhile, steve harrington has this whole community of people telling him how sexy he is. there isn't a singular inch of his body that hasn't been complimented a million times by strangers on the internet. he knows he's attractive. he knows he's hot. people in real life tell him so, too. they gravitate towards him at the club, kiss his neck and call him 'gorgeous,' ask him for his number when he wakes up hungover and in search of a decent breakfast sandwich.

but he's so fucking bored.

no one takes the time to get to know him past the highlighted hair, pouty lips, and belly ring.

no one asks him about his hobbies or interests outside of swallowing a ten-inch dildo down without gagging.

none of his fans care much about his taste in music, what movies he watches, or the deep-rooted wounds of his past.

so when they do finally meet--face to face over video chat--steve is blown away, because eddie's asking him all about himself (after he gets over the initial shock, of course). he's like a little kid at disneyland who just met mickey mouse for the first time.

he wants to know steve's favorite color, if he likes rollercoasters, what toppings he orders on his pizza.

it's not the deepest conversation, but it's a start and steve finds himself laughing, enjoying, and dreading what will happen once their call is over.

steve also catches onto eddie's insecurities pretty quickly.

when talking about himself, eddie makes constant self-deprecating comments. he's shy, hides behind his dark shadow of curls, and blushes bright red whenever steve says something complimentary.

time is running out. steve has to start his scheduled livestream soon and eddie is so adorable it hurts.

before he can think twice, the words are falling out of his mouth and he's licking over his glossed lips to seal their fate.

'you're so hot. i wanna ride your face until you can't breathe,' he says with a choked little moan....

and that's all i'm saying for now, bc pt. 2 of the full fic is on it's way and i don't want to spoil anything more before then, but this message gave me some great ideas for how i might want it to go so thank you anon !! loved responding to this one 🤗🧡

taglist (if you'd like to be added/removed at any time feel free to dm me or comment to let me know <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @anxiouseds @malachitedevil @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @plutoshelm @stevesbipanic @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie

[waywardrose]

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 27

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

6.9k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs​​​

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, suicide ideation, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: This was going to be the last chapter, but it's too long. I'm splitting it and posting what's completed. Expect a last chapter and epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me!

27

The doorbell chime made him start, which was stupid. An invasion wouldn’t start with someone ringing the goddamn doorbell. He stared unseeing at the den’s television while MTV went to commercial.

Also, he should be used to the noise. Steve’s house was a hub of activity, between the phone ringing and the doorbell going off and people talking.

Footsteps thumped overhead. He identified that as the man of the house himself walking to the front door. A moment later, multiple voices, all male, rumbled from the foyer. Several pairs of footsteps moved farther into the house.

Then your voice joined the mix. He couldn’t gauge your tone, other than you weren’t pissed. He turned down the TV volume and frowned at the basement ceiling when you kept talking. A male voice said something you replied to.

Eddie eased from the sectional couch and padded to the foot of the stairs. Of course, it didn’t gain him anything. The door at the top remained closed, muffling any conversation. He considered creeping up the stairs, but he didn’t know where the creaks hid in the treads.

He put a knee on the third tread and crawled forward to half-lay on the stairs. Now midway to the door, he could distinguish between the voices. Yours, of course, Steve’s every so often, then three others.

No one sounded defensive or upset, so that eased his mind. Somewhat.

Everyone kept talking, though. He racked his brain for what they could be discussing. It probably had something to do with yesterday’s visit. He hoped it wasn’t government officials who’d changed their minds about not dragging him to prison. Or worse yet, to some underground lab to conduct experiments on him.

What if they were here for you, though?

Maybe they’d figured out you had magic and wanted you to do stuff for them. While in their clutches, they’d take bio-samples from you. They’d clone you — was that even possible? — or make babies in petri dishes — that had to be possible — to grow a whole witch army and take over the world.

Of course, the thought of having a second you intrigued him. Would a clone kiss like you? Taste like you? Would she moan like you do when he sinks inside her? Would one of you sit on his face while the other rode his dick?

His cock grew heavy and hot in his borrowed briefs.

Jesus H. Christ, he chided. Fucking focus.

It was quiet. Too quiet. He strained to hear what was going on.

Soft footsteps shuffled near.

He shot off the stairs and turned towards the TV. He couldn’t be discovered hanging around near the stairs with a half-chub like a perv. And the sleep-pants did nothing to hide it. His gaze darted to the VHS tape storage cabinet by the TV.

That would work.

He careened around the scuffed coffee table. The loops of the cable-box controller tangled around his foot. Like Gandalf in the Balrog’s whip, he’d been caught.

He hissed, “Shit, shit, shit,” as he hopped to the cabinet, shaking his foot free.

The basement door opened. He grabbed the cabinet for balance. A drawer of tapes wobbled open. He shoved it closed. Tapes clattered. Whoever opened the drawer next was going to have to repack it. Whoops. But it was cool. Everything was cool. He checked his crotch. His half-chub had subsided.

“Eddie?” you said as you descended the stairs.

He faced you, propping an elbow on top of the cabinet.

You’d changed into those black jeans he liked. They hugged your thighs and ass. He willed his dick to stay soft.

“Hey, hi, what’s up?”

You gave him a curious look as you stepped down into the basement.

“You okay?”

He waved a hand in a general sort of way.

“Other than, you know, everything, yeah, I’m okay.”

You nodded, though he could tell you knew something was off.

He said, “I was going to pick out a movie.” He glanced at the stairs. “Is everything okay up there?”

You approached him like he was a cornered dog.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, but don’t freak out—”

“Freak out about what?” he asked, warning sirens blaring through his mind.

“The police are here, and they want to take your statement.”

He straightened.

“Statement about what?”

“The night Chrissy died.” You held up your hands before he could protest. “I just gave them my statement about my interactions with Jason Carver. Who is dead.” With eyes wide, you gave him a leading look and head tilt. “I know you’ve had interactions with Jason, too.”

He nodded along as the implication clicked into place.

“Yeah, I’ve had interactions with Carver.”

“You want to give a statement to the police about that night with Jason and Chrissy?”

No, he did not, yet if he didn’t, he’d never be free. Vecna would continue to ruin his life. While Eddie still wasn’t sure about the existence of an afterlife, he wouldn’t give that asshat the satisfaction.

He girded his metaphorical loins — why did everything circle back to his crotch? — and headed upstairs. You walked behind him, not crowding him, but close enough to be supportive. He wanted to look at you, really look at you, and confess his love again. Just in case this all fell apart. There wasn’t time — and he was certain if he did, he’d wuss-out. Compound that with the fact he couldn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, he’d definitely wuss-out.

Taking two steps into the living room, he froze. He must be hallucinating. Chief Hopper, the very one who’d been there at Dad’s arrest, who supposedly died in the Starcourt fire, stood by the dining table. Though there was considerably less of him around the middle, his hair was buzzed short, and he looked like he’d lost a fight with the Wolfman, there was no question it was him.

Chief Powell sat at the table, facing the room. Metal crutches had been propped against the table next to him. Eddie recognized the deputy who stood at Powell’s left. He couldn’t recall a name, but he’d seen the deputy around town.

Steve leaned a shoulder on the tall curio cabinet behind the table. It was a King Steve pose he’d observed many a time at school. The sling and bandages were absent, courtesy of you.

You stepped beside Eddie and took his numb hand. On instinct, he curled his fingers around yours.

Hopper stepped forward, expression calm and hands placating.

“You’re not in trouble, kid.”

If it had come from anyone else, he’d consider it a lie. For a cop, Hopper had been a decent one. He’d ignored Eddie’s underage drinking at the Hideaway. He’d issued warnings instead of speeding tickets.

You turned your head to whisper, “I won’t let them take you even if they try.”

He gave a minute nod before releasing your hand and marching to the table. If they tried to arrest him, he hoped he’d retained that undead speed. He pulled out the chair across from Powell to sit.

You went to stand by Steve, who gave you a warm look. If anything happened, Eddie knew Steve would protect you and vice versa.

Powell cleared his throat and pressed the Record button on the cassette recorder to start the interrogation.

“Chief Calvin Powell and former Chief Jim Hopper speaking with Edward Munson, Monday, March 31st, 1986.” To Eddie, he said, “Mr. Munson, you’re not under arrest. All we want is your account of what happened the night of March 21st.” When he nodded, Powell said as an aside, “Note Mr. Munson nodded in understanding.” He continued, “We have multiple statements from witnesses placing you at Hawkins High School during the basketball game that night. We also have several overlapping accounts attesting to Jason Carver threatening them at gunpoint at a later date.”

Eddie nodded again, wanting to say that didn’t surprise him. However, Dad’s warning to never talk to cops kept him silent. “These folks stated Jason Carver said he’d sacrifice them for this town. They claim he’d wanted to break their bones. Does that sound like something he could do?”

Eddie glanced at you and Steve. If he followed Dad’s warning, he’d never get out of this. Of course, he didn’t have to give them everything at once. That would be out of character. He had to think like a DM and give them just enough to lead them where the party wanted them to go.

“Yeah, along with pinning all those murders on me,” he said.

Planting his elbows on a nearby chair back, Hopper said, “Sounds like he had the whole town fooled.”

He bobbed his head in agreement.

“I heard he hijacked a town hall meeting.”

Powell shifted in his seat.

“Mr. Munson, did Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham enter your home the night of March 21st?”

“Yes.”

“Do you recall the time?”

“No, not exactly.” He glanced up in thought. “I guess after ten?”

“What were they doing there?”

“Said they wanted drugs.”

“Did you sell them drugs?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have drugs.”

Which he didn’t. Now.

“But they thought you had drugs to sell?”

He met Powell’s gaze and said, “I can’t presume to know what they thought.”

Powell sighed, frustration clear.

“Alright. Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham enter your house sometime after ten, looking to purchase drugs. Then what?”

“I left them in the living room.”

Just like he’d left Chrissy for Vecna to kill. Bait on a hook.

“To do what?”

“Get my cigarettes.”

He could do with one right about now.

“Why would you get your cigarettes?”

“Why does anyone get cigarettes?” He shrugged with a huff. “I wanted a smoke, and I forgot them in my room.”

“Then what happened?”

He rolled his shoulders as if uncomfortable.

“They began arguing.”

“About?”

“I don’t know. I was still in my room.”

“But you know they were arguing?”

“Yeah, Jason raised his voice at Chrissy.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I grabbed my cigarettes and came back to the living room.”

“Did you step in?” Powell angled his head. “Try to intervene?”

“No, it was too late—”

“Too late?”

“Look, he was yelling at her. She said something. Might’ve been his name, I don’t know. Then it got quiet, and then I heard a real loud thump. When I came out, Chrissy was on the floor.”

Instead of floating midair.

“Alive?”

“I don’t know, but she wasn’t moving.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I wanted to go to her, but Jason was…” He shook his head, remembering how intense Carver could get. “Jason was out of his mind.”

“What do you mean, out of his mind?”

“He was, like, in a rage. Scared the shit outta me.”

“How so?”

“He screamed and pounded on his chest.” He mimicked what he saw in his mind, knocking his fist against his breastbone. “His eyes were wild, like something else was behind them.”

“Something else?”

He blew out a breath. This was make-or-break in the story.

“I’m not religious or anything, but he looked… He looked fucking possessed.” He rubbed his forehead. “I know how this sounds, okay? I know this sounds crazy.”

It was quiet for a moment before Powell asked, “Did Jason Carver have the same reaction the night of March 25th at Lover’s Lake?”

“I don’t know. He and—uh…” He snapped his fingers as though trying to recall. “A teammate?”

“Patrick McKinney.”

“McKinney, yeah. They were in the water, coming after me.”

“Where were you?”

“In a fishing boat, trying to get away from them, but I lost my balance and fell in the water.”

“Did you see what happened to Patrick?”

“No, I was swimming away from them.”

Powell nodded in acceptance.

“Okay, back to March 21st: Jason and Chrissy. Jason was screaming, and Chrissy was on the floor.”

“Yeah, I wanted to go to her.” He looked at the table, muttering, “I wanted to save her. Get her away from him.”

He’d tried to do it. He’d shaken her shoulders and yelled for her to wake up, snap out of it, anything, but Vecna’s hold was too powerful. Whatever she’d needed to break the curse, he hadn’t had it.

“What did Jason do?” asked Powell.

“He came after me. He chased me out of the living room.”

“Where did you go?”

“I ran out of the trailer.”

“Did you go to a neighbor?”

“No, I got in my van and left the trailer park.”

“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

He threw a glance at Hopper. He suspected Hopper would’ve taken him seriously, but that hadn’t been a possibility. Everyone thought Hopper was dead. Including himself.

“Like any of you would’ve believed me — the son of a convicted car thief, trailer trash, a super senior, a freak — over Hawkins’ golden boy, the captain of the basketball team.”

Powell and the deputy looked equal parts uncomfortable and insulted.

Good.

“So, yeah,” he said. “I ran and hid, and Jason kept chasing me.”

While you morons stood around with your heads up your asses.

“Why do you think he did that?” Powell asked.

“Probably because I saw him hurt Chrissy. I was the only witness. Get rid of me, one way or another, and no one would ever know what he’d done.”

Powell shared a look with the deputy, whose face was unreadable. Powell saw something there, though, and turned to him.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Munson. We’d appreciate it if you stayed in town until we conclude our investigation.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

He didn’t know where he’d go or how he’d get there. He’d hidden his van in the woods off Coal Mill Road. He needed to retrieve it, but not until it was safe to leave this house. Also, he didn’t know where Wayne was, or if he’d survived. The thought made his insides shrivel and tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

Hopper clapped him on the back, knocking him into the present. The cassette recorder was gone.

“Glad you’re still with us, kid.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Powell arranged his crutches to stand. The deputy assisted, while Steve straightened to show them to the front door. Powell shuffled around the table, his right leg supported at an angle.

Eddie felt your concerned focus directed at him, but he couldn’t indulge himself. Instead, he watched Steve lead the police to the door. Something compelled him out of his chair and moving towards them.

“Hey, Hop,” he said.

Hopper faced him, heavy brow lifted in interest.

“Wayne— Have you seen— I mean, do you know if my uncle’s alive?”

Hopper contemplated the question for a second.

“No, but I think I know who might.” He jutted his chin in a reassuring way. “I’ll give ‘em a call.”

“Thanks.”

Hopper nodded before jogging to catch up with Powell and the deputy outside. He said something to Steve in passing that made Steve grin.

Once Steve shut the door, Eddie dragged his ass to the table and flopped into his chair.

“Jesus, fuck…”

You asked, “Want a beer?”

He rubbed at his eyes, saying, “That’s a good start.”

-

“Holy shit,” Robin said from her seat at the kitchen island.

You kept smearing melting butter on your toast. Steve grunted in front of the gurgling coffee maker. Eddie, who sat across from her, remained quiet.

You’d learned Robin said ‘holy shit’ about a lot of things.

“Guys,” she said with a flap of the morning newspaper. “Guys, look at this.”

Steve abandoned his vigil to see what Robin was holy-shit-ing about. You took a bite of toast and turned. His eyes widened when he read what Robin had pointed out.

“Holy shit.”

Eddie, chin in hand, hummed as he stared at the window over the sink. However, your curiosity had been piqued. You stopped beside Eddie, anticipating Steve sliding the newspaper in front of you. When he did, you swallowed and stared at the headline:

DEVELOPMENT IN LOCAL TEEN MURDERS

You scanned the article. It mentioned the nationwide Satanic panic and how citizens had been led to believe a local cult was sacrificing children to the Devil. The writer praised cooler heads, namely Chief Powell and his deputies, who continued to investigate despite the earthquake and subsequent volcanic fissure eruption.

Ah, you thought, that was how they were covering up the destruction near the closed nexus.

Chief Powell was quoted:

“There is irrefutable evidence Edward Munson is the victim of false accusations. This office has cooperated with federal investigators and spoken with numerous local, credible witnesses to determine such a conclusion.”

Despite police not identifying a person of interest, the writer insinuated the actual murderer might be amongst those who had advocated for hunting down Eddie. They speculated the public accusations against Eddie had been a diversion. While the police investigation remained ongoing, an insider let slip police were closing in on a suspect.

The writer went on to report neither local nor federal investigations uncovered any cult, Satanic or otherwise, in the area. Of course, citizens were welcome to report any cult activity to the sheriff’s office. The article ended with the newspaper promising to keep readers informed.

Holy shit.

“Eddie,” you said, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Read this.”

He blinked a few times before pulling his attention away from the window. With a concerned look, he glanced around the island.

“What?”

You pushed the newspaper in front of him and tapped a finger on the headline. He perused the accompanying article, eyes widening as he read.

To Steve, you said, “Better call Nancy.”

He nodded and dialed Nancy’s number on the kitchen phone. After a playful exchange with Mrs. Wheeler, during which Robin rolled her eyes, Steve’s manner turned serious. From listening to half of the conversation, you deduced Nancy had seen the article. He mentioned Dr. Owens, along with Jason Carver. Nancy said more about Jason, but you couldn’t make out her words.

Steve nodded as she spoke, though. When he hung up, you gave him an expectant look.

“The Feds found Jason Carver’s body. Or what’s left of it. His gun’s missing, but there were bullet casings nearby. Nance told Owens about Carver at The WarZone buying a gun, so that’s a lead for them.”

“It corroborates my story about him, too,” you said.

“And the Sinclairs’,” Robin said, leaning an elbow on the island.

After she’d returned to Steve’s last night, she told you, Eddie, and Steve about the police collecting statements from Lucas and Erica. Their statements had led to yours, then Eddie’s. Maybe others’. Who knows how many people Jason had terrorized after Chrissy’s murder.

You nodded as you pondered how many doors he’d knocked on before coming to yours. It was fortunate he’d found you before Mom. If he’d confronted her instead of you, she’d know all about you and Eddie. It’s funny how you’d been debating on introducing him that day. Eddie still had no idea.

Eddie slid from his stool, mumbling something about a shower. You watched him leave the kitchen. While you’d give him privacy, you first needed to tell him. It was an urge, like a hand pushing at the middle of your back.

He was halfway up the stairs when you reached him.

“Eddie, hang on.”

He stopped without turning to face you, hand on the railing.

“What?”

“The Saturday after Chrissy was killed…”

“Yeah?”

“Jason came looking for you.” When he said nothing, you continued, “I was out front planting—”

“Why’re you telling me this?”

“It’s called backstory.”

He turned his head enough for you to see his jaw around his hair, yet he remained quiet.

“He called me your girlfriend.”

“And I bet a whole bunch of other things.”

You sighed, though you remembered Jason’s accusations.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters was my plan for that day.”

“Plan?”

“I wanted to introduce you as my boyfriend to my mom when you picked me up. I was going to run it by you first, of course, but I wanted to.”

Voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, “Well, the pressure’s off now, isn’t it? They’re out of town for the foreseeable future, right?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Your mouth fell open as he stomped from view.

What an asshole thing to say. You’d been trying your best this entire goddamn time.

“I hope your shower sucks,” you snapped, climbing the rest of the stairs.

His bedroom door closed with a definitive click.

You went to your room and shut the door. If he wanted to be a little brat about it, let him. All you’d wanted to do was tell him the truth. You understood he’d had the worst week and a half in the history of the world. You’d cut him some slack, but you were no doormat.

Maybe it was too little too late, though, and maybe he didn’t need to know. You sat on the bed and wiped at your stinging eyes. Why did you have to bring this up now? Of all times? It was just… It was just that you wanted him to know you’d… Been serious about him? Remained serious about him? That you’d never been embarrassed to be with him?

But shit, he’d been the one who wanted to pause the relationship. If he hadn’t, you would’ve introduced him much sooner. Sure, your father wouldn’t have been supportive, but no one you’d ever associated with ever met with his approval. He hadn’t liked your friends in New York. You weren’t sure you liked your friends in New York anymore, either.

Mom would’ve been more open-minded, though.

Dammit, you needed to call them.

It would still be foolish to call from Steve’s house. You could call from the hospital’s payphone again. You thought you remembered one in front of Bradley’s. With all the extra people Steve had been hosting and feeding, you assumed he needed groceries. A visit to Bradley’s would take care of both issues.

You changed into street clothes and slung your purse over your shoulder before heading downstairs. Steve and Robin sat at the kitchen island, chatting between spoonfuls of cereal. It reminded you of hearing their voices in the middle of the night. It made you miss Eddie even though he was only upstairs.

Greeting them with a soft “hey,” you volunteered to do a grocery run. Steve fumbled his spoon when you asked for a shopping list. Milk sloshed onto the counter. He wiped at the spill with the hem of his t-shirt.

Robin watched him with exasperation before fetching a paper towel.

“That shirt’s going to smell so bad tomorrow.”

He snatched the paper towel from her hand, saying, “You’re going to smell so bad tomorrow.”

“Real mature, dingus.”

He aimed a goofy sneer at her.

After cleaning the spill, he finished the shopping list and retrieved some cash. Robin offered money, but you and Steve refused to accept it. With their hours at Family Video reduced, and Robin’s parents making her pay for her band equipment, it didn’t feel right. You and Steve weren’t hurting for money, in any case.

“Remember, we’ll be gone by the time you get back,” he said, handing you the list and money.

You nodded and pocketed both. They were volunteering at the school, which was kind of them. It was also convenient for you since you’d probably argue with Eddie when you returned. He’d acted like a brat and deserved a spanking like one.

“Maybe I’ll join you two tomorrow?”

“That would be awesome,” said Robin, perking up and scooping soggy Cheerios from her bowl. “You can make meals with me and Vickie.”

“Cool.” You gave her a teasing look. “I want to meet Vickie and hear all about you two in Band.”

Robin blushed, hands fluttering. An arc of milk and cereal splashed across the counter.

Steve laughed, “God, Robin!”

“Shit, sorry!”

With a chuckle, you wished them a good day and left the kitchen. You didn’t want to be the next thing they flung milk on. As you crossed the living room, you noted Eddie’s closed door. That was fine by you. He should stay in there and chill the hell out.

On the drive to Bradley’s, you mulled over what to tell your parents. You couldn’t say you wanted to stay because of your boyfriend, who they didn’t know existed, or that said boyfriend was the accused cult leader everyone in town had been hunting. You couldn’t say you hated Hawkins, but the thought of leaving right now made you want to cry. And you certainly couldn’t say you were bunking with the flirty clerk from Family Video.

Bradley’s half-full parking lot was a strange sight for a Tuesday. With the ads in the windows exclaiming Two For Tuesday, you expected a swarm of shoppers. Then again, half of Hawkins had fled less than a week ago.

You bought two cans of generic soda from the machine out front with a couple of dollars. That supplied plenty of coins to make a long-distance call. You carried the sodas to the car. They’d be nice with lunch. Which was a meal. And Robin had invited you to volunteer making meals with her and Vickie.

Volunteering was a decent excuse to stay.

You deposited the sodas in the car’s drink holders and rushed to the payphone. After paying and dialing the Cincinnati number, the line rang twice before Mom answered. She sounded relieved to hear from you and asked after your car. It took you a second to recall the lie you’d left on their answering machine. You replied the radiator leak hadn’t been bad and had been repaired.

“Then when should we expect you?”

You sighed.

“I don’t want to come down to Cincinnati.”

Incredulous, she asked, “You want to stay in Hawkins?”

Your father’s voice rumbled in the background.

“Yes, actually,” you said. “I’m volunteering at the school. With friends.”

“The same friends you’re staying with?”

You nodded with a “yes.”

In reply, you got the swish of Mom putting her palm over the receiver. Your father’s voice sharpened, though you couldn’t make out his words. Mom responded, yet it didn’t sound like that pacified him.

You closed your eyes, waiting for him to grab the phone from her. Shaking your head, you realized preparing to be berated was something a previous version of yourself would’ve done.

“Mom.” When she didn’t answer, you said, “Mom.”

“Y-yes, honey? What is it?”

“I gotta go — I’m in the middle of a grocery run — but don’t worry about me. Everything’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll call you again, alright?”

“Honey… Where—? Your father—”

“No. I don’t care what he wants to yell about. I’m fine here. I’m safe, I promise. Just…” You took a stuttering breath. “I love you.”

She sighed.

“We love you, too.”

Your hand trembled as you placed the phone handset on the hook. A nickel dropped into the return slot. You never make anyone’s life easier, Vecna had said, using Eddie’s voice. You left it. The next person might need it. Besides, it was only a nickel. You turned to rest your back on the sun-warmed brick.

You’d done the right thing by staying. You were doing the right thing. It was the difficult thing, but you’d faced tougher. You weren’t some spoiled little rich girl who ran away from the aftermath. Even if it hurt — and it probably would. Even if Eddie left you — and it appeared as though he might.

You couldn’t worry about that right now. There were practical things to do. You felt like Scarlett O’Hara as you told yourself you’d think about the aftermath later.

Inside Bradley’s, shoppers and clerks spoke in hushed tones. Beeps from the checkouts didn’t carry beyond the cart corral. The quiet helped you concentrate on Steve’s shopping list. Item by item, you filled your cart, having to substitute skim milk for 2%, whole-wheat bread for white, and a carton of eighteen eggs instead of a dozen.

Steve had written ‘12 eggs,’ like you could buy them individually.

You huffed a laugh when turning into the ransacked paper aisle. The shelves for the industrial-sized packs of toilet paper were empty. That left you stepping onto the lowest shelf and struggling for the last two packs of the expensive floral-printed stuff at the back.

At the checkout, the clerk issued a rehearsed apology for the shortages. With the volcanic fissures now closed and road crews fixing the damage, they assured you shipments would start coming again soon. They helped bag your order since there weren’t enough baggers. They apologized for that, too.

You waved away their apologies and thanked them for their assistance. Because you weren’t an entitled person who didn’t appreciate a favor when it was offered.

Once the car’s trunk was loaded, you headed back to Steve’s. You didn’t know what you were going to say to Eddie about this morning, or how to broach the subject. He’d been dealing with so much stress. You understood that. You didn’t want to be another stressor. He needed to talk to you — or someone. He couldn’t just bottle up his emotions and get snippy when someone wasn’t mindful of his unspoken wishes.

As you made the left onto Cornwallis, an older truck paused at the stop sign on your right and followed you. You hoped they wouldn’t get aggressive when you slowed to get your bearings. You still weren’t used to the neighborhood. Something about it kept screwing with your sense of direction. Maybe it was how all the houses were set back from the road and obscured with manicured shrubs.

You recognized evergreen bushes and the u-shaped driveway of Steve’s house. You put on your turn signal. The truck did the same. You frowned at the rearview mirror, but pulled into the driveway. If the driver was some irrational, as your father had put it, country bumpkin, you’d make them regret tailing you.

You parked beside the enclosed carport and stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition and purse on the passenger seat. The truck stopped a few yards away. Sunlight glinted off its windshield. The engine went silent.

You stayed inside the vee of your open car door and waited for the driver to reveal themself.

The truck’s door creaked open, window reflecting the greenery of the front yard. Dusty work-boots hit the driveway. Something about them struck you as familiar. You studied the truck as you racked your mind for why.

The truck door clapped shut.

You gasped, eyes going wide. It was Eddie’s uncle, Wayne. He had a black eye and a shallow scratch at the top of his forehead, but otherwise appeared unharmed. You pushed the car door closed and hurried to him.

“Mr. Munson, oh my God! I didn’t— I’m so glad you’re okay!”

With a wry note in his voice, he said, “It’s good to see you, too.”

You offered your hands, which he grasped in his rougher ones. Tears prickled at your eyes. You hadn’t realized how on edge you’d been about Wayne’s absence until he was there.

You squeezed his hands, saying, “Eddie’s going to be thrilled to see you.”

He squeezed back as his expression softened, yet hardly shifted.

“Is he here?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. “He’s okay. He’s been asking about you.”

Wayne hummed, sounding pleased. “After that girl was found… Well, I’m sure you know by now. And with the trailer park done split in two, I’ve been staying at the Motel 6.”

“Of course, that makes sense.”

“This Henderson boy said Eddie was in the hospital when I dropped by the school on Saturday, but then that eruption happened.” He gave you a knowing look. “Course, the hospital didn’t have a record of Eddie being there.” He harrumphed and gently released your hands. “Then this morning, Agent Stinson, the one that put me up at the Motel 6, paid me a visit and told me about my nephew recuperating here.”

You glanced at Eddie’s bedroom window.

“Please, come in,” you said, pivoting to show him inside. “I’ll take you to him.”

“I first have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Will you help this old man get a few things from the truck?”

You grinned.

“Absolutely.”

He led you to the back of the truck. You gasped a second time in so many minutes. Three guitar cases lay in the truck bed. You put a hand on your tight chest.

“I didn’t want to leave ‘em with no one at home,” said Wayne.

He’d never given up on Eddie. Like you, he’d known Eddie was innocent. His days must’ve been horrible, full of waiting and dread. You couldn’t imagine the stares and comments he must’ve gotten at work.

“—fit the amps, but I know these mean more.”

You nodded, feeling like a bobblehead doll as you blinked back tears.

“Whoa, hey now, don’t cry.”

You tried to reply you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come.

Wayne put a strong arm around your shoulders, grounding you. His faded denim jacket smelled of tobacco.

The guitars were just objects and could be replaced, of course, but Wayne was right: they meant something. You’d bet Eddie had resigned himself to replacing them. Coming to terms with that must’ve hurt.

You shook your head at the good fortune, then gave Wayne a smile. Now, Eddie wouldn’t have to go through that.

It took you a few tries, but you finally said, “He’s going to lose it when he sees you and these.”

“Eh, I reckon more for the guitars than me.”

You laughed as Wayne lowered the tailgate. He handed you the acoustic case and bossed around the two electrics. You closed the tailgate for him and led the way into the house. Television noise came from the open basement door.

In the living room, you and Wayne had a hushed conversation about leaving the guitars there. He wanted to surprise Eddie. You loved the idea and propped the acoustic against a sofa arm. Wayne added the electrics next to it before following you to the top of the stairs.

“Eddie?” you called.

“Yeah?”

“You have a visitor.”

“What? Who?”

You stepped to the side, giving Wayne access to the stairs. Eddie choked out something when Wayne was halfway down. You leaned on the doorframe, biting your grinning lip, waiting for their first exchange. However, it was quiet. You snuck a glance. Eddie’s arms were around Wayne, and Wayne’s around him. His fingers dug into Wayne’s jacket.

You closed the door to allow them privacy.

Taking a step towards the guitars, you remembered the groceries thawing in your car. That was unlocked. With the key in the ignition. And your purse in the passenger seat.

You dashed to the car and began unloading it. The kitchen counters filled with bags. Each trip obscured the counters until brown paper surrounded you.

By the time you finished stocking the refrigerator and pantry, Eddie and Wayne had emerged from the basement. Eddie’s excited voice came from the living room, making you smile. You padded to the doorway to watch the second reunion. Eddie knelt in front of the red guitar’s open case.

Wayne said to him the same thing he’d told you: he couldn’t abandon the guitars.

Wordlessly, Eddie nodded and stood. He hugged Wayne again, murmuring something into his shoulder. Wayne put a hand on the back of Eddie’s head and ruffled his hair as he replied. Eddie laughed with a sniffle.

You ducked your head and crossed your arms. If you saw him cry, you’d cry. Then Wayne would be stuck in a house of the emotionally compromised.

When Eddie and Wayne separated, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. Eddie beamed at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Wayne was more restrained, but he appeared just as happy.

“Mr. Munson, would you like to stay for lunch?” you asked.

“I’d like that, but I can’t. The plant’s understaffed, and I’m workin’ a double.”

Eddie wilted, but you didn’t want him to give up hope. He needed something to look forward to.

You asked, “Maybe on a day off?”

“Yes, ma��am.” He glanced at Eddie. “My Friday’s free.”

“Come for lunch,” said Eddie.

“Yeah, stay as long as you want. Stay for dinner.” Raising your eyebrows at Eddie, you said, “We can invite the rest of the party. Make it a potluck.”

“I think we better run that by Steve first.”

“Like he’ll refuse.”

Eddie conceded the point with an agreeable shrug.

To Wayne, he said, “Steve’s got cable downstairs. There’s at least one sports channel.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good enough reason to return.”

Eddie barked a laugh and knocked his elbow against Wayne’s. He then turned to Wayne and perched his chin on the back of his hands, blinking owlishly.

“You mean my spectacular personality isn’t reason enough?”

Wayne said drily, “Your personality is a spectacle, alright.”

Eddie laughed again. Wayne’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips curved into a private grin.

After a moment, Wayne said, “Well, I best be off.”

“Thank you for coming by,” you said.

Eddie nodded.

“Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime.”

You heard the love in that one word. Eddie must’ve heard it as well, because his face softened. It was easy to forget his sharp smile and smart-ass remarks and big personality masked a tender heart.

As you thought it, you asked, “Do you have the phone number here?”

“No, ma’am.”

You hurried into the kitchen, found the pad of paper Steve used for the shopping list, and wrote the number. When you came out with a pad and pen, Wayne and Eddie stood in the foyer. You tore off the top sheet and asked for the motel’s number.

“Just in case plans change,” you said.

After trading numbers, you saw Wayne off. Eddie followed him down the front stairs while you remained in the doorway. Once in the truck, Wayne held up a hand in goodbye before reversing down the driveway.

As soon as Wayne’s truck was out of sight, Eddie brushed past you without meeting your eyes. You closed the door and trailed after him into the living room.

“You want to talk about this morning?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he asked, kneeling in front of the guitars and closing the red’s case.

“Well, geez, I don’t know.” You put your hands on your hips. “Maybe how you brushed me off?”

He laid the acoustic case flat and paused with his hands on top.

“I didn’t ‘brush you off.’ I didn’t want to talk about fucking Jason Carver, okay?”

“That wasn’t the point.”

“No, that is the point. He wouldn’t have targeted you if I’d left you alone from the start.”

You narrowed your eyes at his back. That was a crappy excuse. And still not the point.

“Why did you say it was good my parents had left town so I wouldn’t have to introduce you?”

“I don’t know, alright? Everything got screwed up.” His hands balled into fists. “I know part of it’s my fault.” He shook his head as his shoulders hunched. “I can’t undo it, so… It’s whatever.”

You huffed a breath through your nose.

“It’s whatever?” Letting your hands drop to your sides, you said, “Me being serious about you, about wanting my parents to know you, is not whatever.”

He muttered, “They wouldn’t have liked me, anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I’d make them respect my choice.” You tried to breathe with a too-tight chest. “Because I choose you. It sucks that doesn’t seem to mean a lot to you.”

You didn’t wait for a reply and headed into the kitchen. There were empty grocery bags to deal with. You folded and stacked them on the island while swallowing around the lump in your throat.

If Steve’s parents were anything like your own, there was a stash of empty grocery bags somewhere around here. You found a bag of bags in the pantry — something you’d missed a few times. Of course, you missed it. You’d missed plenty of things these past few days, evidently, but you wouldn’t cry over them. Not now. Not in Steve’s pantry. You added the new bags to the collection, then closed the pantry door.

You turned and startled at Eddie dawdling in the kitchen doorway.

“I choose you too, you know,” he said, fingers playing with nonexistent rings. “And it does mean a lot to me — that you’re serious about me. I’m serious about you, too.”

You nodded, voice constrained by the sudden stranglehold of too many emotions.

“I’m going to go upstairs now.”

You nodded again, though you didn’t like it.

He shifted from foot to foot before leaving the doorway. His faint footsteps disappeared from the first floor. All the while, you mentally screamed for him to come back. You didn’t need him to say more. He just needed to stay. Maybe to make lunch with you, though the idea of eating turned your stomach. However, you wanted to do something dumb, something mundane, with him, like make lunch and drink the cheap sodas you’d bought.

Instead, you trudged into the sunroom and flumped into one of the armless chairs.

[oatmealmika]

FEM! TRAFALGAR LAW HEADCANONS BECAUSE I LOVE WOMEN

a/n : sometimes i just wish law was actually written as a girl cuz DAMN

first off, CLOTHES SHE'D WEAR!!

i'm getting major streetwear/chola style vibes from fem! law

like i mean ripped up baggy jeans, croptops, hoodies, oversized t-shirts, sports bras, long clickity clackity nails (if she really wanted to but very occasionally), and of course (his? her?) their hat

she got her earrings done when she was too little to remember so it's just annoying to have to redo them every so often

i have no clue who'd do her tattoos since she most definitely wouldn't trust some sketchy guy to do them

maybe herself but i don't think that's it either

and whenever you ask her, she makes up a different story (like that one blond guy in "ratatouille" who has a criminal record)

"woke up with it" "they're stick n pokes" "this guy i knew who would only wear bucket hats" and of course "nunya"

she is half german and half mexican (may or may not be self projection with the mexican part)

i get HUGE ymir from aot vibes with fem! law

she appears rude, hardheaded, and pessimistic, but she really does care about others and does have some hope in her (wishing her crew likes her horrendous hawaiian shirts)

her music taste is rock, rap, indie dream pop (tv girl), and then sad spanish songs that slap way too hard (i'm thinking "no me queda mas" by selena, a bunch of vicente fernandez songs my mom loves to play at full volume, and "amor eterno" by rocio durcal)

def not straight i mean just look at fem! law fanart on tumblr bro like honey... and man, am i glad she isn't straight cuz GODDAMN

if you go out with her, you need to order for her pls she can't do it on her own

but she will take the bill, no excuses

i think the type of person she needs as a partner would have to be okay with silence, they have to be outgoing and fun but mature with intense situations, and yeah

plays the bass guitar and has been for years

also plays the drums but her main instrument is bass

really wants to be in a band but not really since she hates the idea of having to be nice all the time for the public

at a mall, she either hangs out at hot topic, barnes and nobles, or justice the whole time

got a bunch of piercings all over her but that's a secret lol nobody knows...

UNTIL I TELL YOU: bellybutton, industrial, conch, ear lobe, tragus, bridge, middle tongue, hip, nipple, and then a bunch of genital piercings i will not be discussing any further XD

her most used apps are photos, notes, tumblr, pinterest, depop, and....... ao3

OKAY OKAY as hard as it might be to believe this, this is NOT self projection it is TRUTH

she doesn't religiously read fics or anything, just occasional oneshots about her nerdy crap when she's bored or something

my girl out here reading her "sora, warrior of the sea" 10k+ fics 💀

if you take her home to meet the family, at first they'll be thrown off by her intimidating looks, but soon enough they'll realize what a little loser she is! the cutie patootie she is <3

LOVE LOVE LOVES cringy 70s/80s/90s movies (think "grease", "the princess bride", "pretty in pink", "10 things i hate about you", etc.)

she doesn't know why. she hates the dumb stereotypes and all that stuff, but she just can't help it! she's so real for it too

idk why but i feel like she'd LOVE spiderman???? like as an obsession?

she is pretty normal about the live action movies, it's just SPIDERVERSE THAT MAKES HER GO CRAZY

she also wants to be good at art but never has motivation to do it

she def has an upside down smile (that what it's called? i think of it more as a "oh that's cringy look and stare y'all" smile)

is she scrawny? muscular? i can't decide honestly. like yeah guy law has some brawn, but he is still a pretty lanky guy, so that's why i see fem! law as a lanky chick. but i love muscular women... goddamn she is just lanky. she obviously has some meat on her bones, but not much.

that being said, i don't think she's very curvaceous either (let's pretend oda didn't draw her the way he did). she is no doubt an a cup, and while her butt is fairly larger, she's still pretty flat.

she also only ever wears sports bras since she thinks regular bras are uncomfy and a hassle.

for a va to replace masc! law's, i would say for japanese romi park. for english, i'd say either trina nushimura or elizabeth maxwell.

for one piece live action, i would want like zendaya as fem! law 😭 aye anything for queen zendaya

only bepo knows this, but she wears socks and sandals on sundays no fail.

has a tattoo somewhere of bepo's name inside a heart with an arrow through it (think those tattoos that tough guys get, with instead of bepo, "mom" is what's written)

fem! law still wears ugly ass hawaiian shirts, don't get it mixed up ✊

that's all for now :)

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

have a good day!!

[sophiamcdougall]

I saw a post earlier about "women's spaces" and how the writer had often experienced them as hostile rather than inherently safe and welcoming and therefore precious. Now, I could relate to that to some degree, as I still tend to start off pretty tense at events for, say, queer women even though I now go quite a lot of them: "hello I'm bi! If anyone's going to have a problem with that it would be nice to get it out of the way immediately!" But I do value some women's spaces. I would be sad if gendered loos, for instance, went away completely. I've had mad, intense conversations in women's loos that I do not think would have happened in an evenly mixed setting. I have experienced the Drunk Girl Oracle who exists nowhere but in the queue for the ladies: I want her habitat to continue to exist. But the thing is: no "women's space" I've ever been in has ever been this inviolate grove of Artemis where no man may set foot without getting turned into a fucking stag.

Trans women are women. Trans women belong in women's spaces. Trans women make me feel not less but more safe in women's spaces, for reasons that will become clear. When transphobes are screaming that the sky will and does fall in whenever a trans woman walks into a women's bathroom, of course I argue from that starting point.

But also I think it's worth examining the entire premise that spaces FOR [this type of person] are inherently spaces from which [that type of person] is banned.

So like, where are these women's spaces that don't come with the common-sense understanding that while usually, mostly you won't see men in there, if you do he's probably got reasons and its fine?

Is no one else seeing those signs that say "these premises are cleaned by male and female staff"? What about dads with small daughters? Is it really that bad if a man just plain gets lost or has one shot to avoid an emergency from time to time?

There was this meetup for bi people I used to go to. But of course there were never only bi people there. People brought along friends and partners who might be straight or gay. And oh-shit-it-turns-out-I'm-bi people who were still identifying as gay in the rest of their lives came on the quiet. And there was this one lesbian who -- ironically given a certain slur the GC crowd like to throw at bi women -- came quite unapologetically as a tourist, to observe our strange ways and, as she put it, to "encourage us."

These people were explicitly welcome. It was not a space from which not-bi people were barred. It was still a bi meetup. It was still a "bi space." I was at a sapphics' club night last Friday. And there were some men there. I mean, apparently cis, entirely male-presenting, gender-conforming men in the Women's Space™ . Some of them were bar staff, for starters. Is that OK with the GCs? Does all the terror and horror and loss at the thought of a man in your precious Women's Space go away if the man's being paid? If so, it seems oddly ... conditional. But also some of them some seemed not to be working but just sort of ... there. Maybe they were somebody's friends? They certainly didn't bother anyone. I didn't see where they ended up. You see, I was mainly focused on the hot chicks.

There's another wlw event I go to, to which a guy regularly shows up and we've chatted a few times. He usually wears what you'd conventionally call "women's clothes" but does not present as a woman. I know he uses he/him pronouns at present, (I asked) though he implied there was some possibility that might change. I don't know if he's a regular because he's a friend of the host or if he's a friend of the host because he's a regular. I don't know if something about the wlw label speaks to him on some personal level or if it's about queer solidarity, or if he's like the encouraging lesbian at the bi meetups. Whatever the reason, he's just there.

And aside from the fact that we have similar taste in hats, his presence in ye olde sapphic space also makes me feel more safe, for much the same reason the presence of a woman I know is trans does. I'm afraid it's selfish. Because if everyone's being cool about him, or about her, I can be pretty confident no one who finds out that I, too, disrupt binaries just by existing, is going to decide to ruin the evening over it. Because, you know, that has happened to me.

Now like I say, Actual Men in women's spaces aren't the reason trans women belong in women's spaces. But Actual Men entering women's spaces and not thereby ruining them forever do illustrate the utter pointlessness of thinking of women's spaces as these high-walled fortresses to begin with. Spaces for [a type of person] can exist, and still be porous. In fact, to be healthy and functional, they have to be.

[tiny-elf-of-doom]

Snack - RE Vendetta

Leon x Chris

After the chaos in Mexico, Leon and Chris are ready to just be home. Unfortunately, circumstances lead them to staying in their hotel an extra day. Things can only get spicier from there…

MDNI: oral, language, hotel sex, two men, the usual line-up of hot content.  

It was frustrating enough working with Leon for a month, but having to stay in a hotel with him an extra day was fucking torture. At least when he was fighting the undead he had his mind occupied with staying alive, counting every round of ammo he fired, and solving enough puzzles to make Einstein’s head spin. However, when they could finally relax on the trip back home, Leon turned into a walking sex toy. The man even dressed slutty for the glorious occasion that he and Chris were going to get drinks by the pool. It had been late in the evening when the two found out that their flight the next morning was canceled due to the potential for storms. 

Another day with Leon… “goddamnit, what the hell are you wearing?” 

The man in question was in a pair of swim shorts with a button down shirt revealing his entire torso. Leon had put eyeliner on, combed his hair, and took his time choosing a fragrance to douse himself in. Chris blinked away his daze once Leon started to notice him staring. 

“What?” Leon finally said. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Chris questioned again.

Leon looked down at his outfit, then up at Chris. “I should be asking you that. Cargo shorts and a U.S. Marines t-shirt might be nice in Pennsylvania, but why are you dressed so casually to go to a pool party?” 

“I’m getting a few drinks and sprawling out on a lounge chair.” Chris replied. “I’m not partying.”

“You’re not going swimming?” And Leon had been shocked by his partner’s glare, “why not pick up a chick, pretty boy? Too shy to sleep with someone?” 

“To be honest, I’m not super horny after being thrown around by giant flesh monsters in Mexico. Excuse me for wanting some time to enjoy the atmosphere while we’re stuck in Nashville.” Chris was already annoyed, deciding to just grab a towel in case anything were to happen. “There, happy? I’m going to be the quiet one in the corner because that’s exactly what I need.” 

“Don’t be such a baby, Redfield.” 

Moving swiftfully over to Chris, Leon put his hands on the man’s chest. At first, he backed away, finding himself pushed against a wall. Leon resumed his motions, rubbing the man’s pecks through his shirt. The flesh was hard under his touch. Chris was unsure how to approach the situation, leaving him aghast. Should he shove Leon backwards? The second bed closest to their balcony was directly behind him. Landing on the plush quilt wouldn’t hurt him, yet Chris didn’t want to send the wrong message. 

Suddenly, those adventurous hands moved under his shirt, tracing the outline of his abdominal muscles. They had such great spacing, such incredible shape. Leon was having a field day with his companion. 

Chris, on the other hand wasn’t sure. Of course, the famed survivor of Raccoon City was a pretty boy when he was younger, but now, he was a drinker and a party guy who tried to hide his traumas with booze. Those innocent blue eyes had been replaced with a glint of mischief as they stared up at Chris. Something he hadn’t  really noticed was how good Leon smelled. He was a man obsessed with showering when he had the chance. Every mission had him covered in blood, sweat, and plenty of rubble, so Leon had become a creature of clean habits. If there were two things his paycheck had earned him, it was a Ducati XDiavel and plenty of nice fragrances. 

The one he wore that overwhelmed Chris’s nose was spicy vanilla. Leon’s skin had heated the oils, melting them into a delicious gourmand. Chris felt his head swimming, body begging to taste his partner’s throat. 

Leon noticed this sudden change in Chris’s demeanor. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll buy drinks tonight if you do me a favor, Redfield.” 

Every nerve in Chris’s body was shot at this point, leaving him vulnerable to Leon’s sultry bargains; like making a deal with the devil. He wanted to decline his partner’s wishes, but knew that his cock wouldn’t last the entire night with him in the other bed, or glistening in water from the pool. Whatever the task was, Chris found himself nodding in agreement. 

“I want to ride your handsome face, pilot boy.” Leon cooed.  

They both nodded to each other, agreeing on the task at hand with shared desire. Leon made the first move, wrapping his arms around Chris’s neck to pull his head down. Their lips collided, molding together through the exchange of needy tongues. Saliva was shared between them as Chris grabbed two handfuls of Leon’s ass. Those whimpers leaving his mouth were infectious, absolutely delicious. In one swift motion, Leon gripped Chris’s shoulders and threw him to the bed like a ragdoll. The desperation in Chris’s pants was more than evident, especially when Leon removed his clothes and found a comfortable spot straddling his hips. 

“You’re shaking,” Leon said, holding the man’s arms, “relax, baby.” 

“I’ve never done it with a man before, what if I can’t do anything for you…?” 

What the hell, Leon thought to himself. This beast of a human who had fought hordes of undead without breaking a sweat, flirted with death so often that they became casual acquaintances, was afraid he wouldn’t be able to please his partner. How pitiful the confession had been, though it did more for Leon’s cock than his heart. 

“Just treat it like a pussy, Redfield,” the smaller man said. 

Chris braced himself as his lips were ravished once more. Leon had the most kissable mouth. Parting from Chris, a long line of saliva trailed between them before snapping. Seconds passed and Leon was hovering over Chris’s face. He was seated away from his partner to give him room to work and breathe, but he also wanted to release Chris’s cock from his underwear. 

“You’re a big boy, holy fuck…” Leon gasped before releasing a choked moan. 

That single compliment brought Chris into action. He had wrapped his arms around Leon’s thighs, holding him in place as he lapped away at his hole. The feeling of his tongue went beyond anything Leon had experienced in a while. When Chris put his mind to something, he followed that shit through and did it right. Leon released a stream of curses when his partner pulled away to spit between his cheeks. It was degrading and Leon loved it. 

“Fucking hell, Chris… your mouth…”

“You said to treat it like a pussy,” Chris mumbled, still keeping up his pace. 

“Yeah well… oh god,” Leon whimpered, “do you treat every lady this good?“

Chris snickered into Leon’s backside, “I’ve been told I have a nasty tongue…,” his large hand landed a slap on Leon’s ass, “start riding.”

The demanding tone was delicious. It complimented the sting of Leon’s ass as those fingerprints began to welt over. His tongue darted forward, slamming into Leon’s body with the force of Chris’s head behind it. Saliva was dripping from that ravenous mouth, causing a slurping sounds to erupt. Leon grabbed for Chris’s erection, eager to reward him for his hard work.

Those thin, callous fingers gripped and jerked the appendage. It squelched at the rough motions then wept from the building of pleasure. Chris moaned into Leon’s backside, encouraged to keep up the motions.

“Pump your dick, Leon… jerk us off.” Chris mumbled.

“Was that a demand?” Leon teased, “why rush? I was hoping I could choke on this cock…”

“Just make me come… fuck me pretty boy.”

Pretty boy. That did something to Leon, making his dick twitch as a result. With no hesitation, he gripped himself and Chris, spitting on their dicks for better friction. In return, Chris buried his face in the backside of Leon. Obscene sounds filtered through the room along with the smell of sex and cologne. His tongue penetrated Leon better than most men. It was long, thick, and wet against his tight hole. He welcomed the sensation, opening his mouth over Chris’s cock to catch all of its essence.

“Yeah, just like that… close, Chris…”

“Same…” as he buried his face in Leon.

Staggered, the two came, trickling Leon’s tongue in white while Chris was given a sticky surprise. When he moved Leon to the side of the bed, he noticed that his shorts had been dirtied, bringing him to value the swim shorts he ended up packing. A few moments passed between them before they could comfortably make eye contact again.

“You should do that more often…” Leon gasped, taking in the orgasm.

“I will say, you are a much better snack than those airplane biscuits would have been.”

“Care to wash it down?” Leon asked, smirking.

Chris smiled, “yeah, with a beer.”