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thegreatstoryteller · 2 days ago

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Female to Male Fridays!

The Great Shift: Meeting the Parents

“Are you sure you’re ok with this? We can still head home.” Jenny muttered. Clearly a bit nervous staring down at her boyfriend.

“Babe. It’s been almost a year since the Great Shift. I told you. Just because I’m unshifted, doesn’t mean I don’t want to meet your parents.” Youseff said smiling.

Jen and Youseff had met in their freshman year of college and immediately became close. They joined similar clubs, volunteered at the same food banks, and eventually friendship blossomed into romance one fateful summer night! The couple knew nothing could get between them and the love that they found… and a few years later that included the Great Shift. While Youseff remained unshifted, Jen Shale wasn’t so lucky.

They had agreed to meet at her sorority when the craziness of the Shift happened. Youseff was more than a bit surprised to find a larger older man in his 40s sitting nervously on Jen’s bed waiting for him! Since then many revelations have been shared with the couple. The first was Youseff coming out to his girlfriend as bi! He never had the courage to say it before and didn’t know how to share that part of his life with his girlfriend, but the shift offered a unique chance that worked out well with the couple. Two. Jen realized she was in a sports medicine professor who was quite in shape! He apparently was father to three student athletes on campus… and luckily her feelings for her boyfriend hadn’t wavered from the shift. A fact that they both enjoyed learning the first week of the Great Shift. Eventually the two became more comfortable with each other even buying a pair of matching pajamas!

It took quite some time for the world to get back in order. During that entire time communications were able to be set up with most families. Youseff’s family had many linear shifts, a term used by most of the world when your shift put you into someone very similar to your original body. His dad was a man his own age. His mother was a woman a few years younger than her. The only difference was his younger brother who now keeps telling Youseff to call him the bigger brother when he shifted into a former professional athlete.

Jen’s family… was another story.

“And that brings us to today. Jen. I’m serious. I want to meet them. I know you’ve talked to them, but I haven’t. And when they invited us over for the holidays I thought it’d be the best chance to get to know them.” Youseff said hopefully, placing a hand against Jen’s cheek and training the thick salt and pepper stubble that was ever present no matter how close she shaved.

“I know- I know… but I told you before the shift that they were a bit much… and, well, now since the shift… they are still that! I guess… just… more…” Jen muttered nervously. A feat she seemed to still master despite her new commanding baritone.

“They can’t be that bad.” Youseff said before knocking. And that’s when they heard heavy steps approaching the door.

A handsome muscular man answered the door! He wore long pink dishwashing gloves and an apron! Aside from that he seemed to be wearing nothing else. The small potted flower he held seemed to be thriving!

“You must be Youseff! Jen has told us so much about you! Come in! Come in! I was just washing some dishes and watering the kitchen plants! We’re so glad to meet you. You can call me Margot! I’m Jen’s mother, or rather her second father!” Margot laughed. The man before them had a deep voice and almost a bro like tone. The motherly introduction he gave at odds with his gym bro form.

“You must be hungry! I’ve been making lots of food these days. This young man I became had quite the appetite. And who could blame him. I’ve felt the urge to go to the gym almost every day of the week! Anyway, I just keep blabbering away! Have a mini quiche!” Margot led them to the living room where a small plate of appetizers awaited them.

“Wow, these are amazing Margot!” Youseff said digging in. I always wondered where Jen got her amazing cooking skills from.

“Awww! Jen! You didn’t mention your man was a little charmer.” Margot giggled as Jen blushed.

“Mooom! Stop! You’re embarrassing me!” Jen complained burying her fuzzy face in her large hands. Her mom was always like this. If it wasn’t telling embarrassing stories about Jen, it was finding an excuse to show off her body. Ever since Margot got her new body she had been more than happy to show it off. She would say, “Well this young man clearly wanted to show off his muscles, who am I to cover them up!”. So bouncing around the house in her classic apron was just the way she dressed these days.

“Shush Jen. My little girl will never be too old for a little humor. Just because you have more grays on that head of yours than your father did pre shift, doesn’t mean you can’t laugh a little.” Margot teased.

“Speaking of where is Mr. Shale? Youseff asked.

“Well he’s always in the garage these days. When he got that 20 year old gymnast’s body, he’d become obsessed with the sport! I’ve got some biscuits to take out of the oven. You two should check on him.” Margot offered.

“Anything to get out of this conversation.” Jen groaned pulling Youseff towards the side of their home. As they opened the door to the garage they could see a handsome black man flexing in the mirror, wearing a tight singlet. The chalk on his hands implying a recent gymnastics routine.

“Jen! There’s my little girl turned big man!” Her dad said cutting his flexing short and heading towards Jen. Mr. Shale now was the shortest one in the family at 5’1. With his daughter at 6’0 and his wife at 5’10, the household tended to tower over him. However, he was more than happy with his new body.

“Hey dad, enjoying your gymnastics or whatever?” Jen half heartedly asked.

“Yes I am! I tell ya, being a few decades younger is great! Sure beats my beer belly and sore ankles. A 20 year old body like this is flexible. You can ask your mother if you don’t believe me.” Mr. Shale winked.

“Dad! Oh my gosh! NO! I brought Youseff here! Please don’t gross him out.” Jen screamed.

“Oh so this is the young man that’s caught my daughter’s eye. You can address me as Mr. Shale or sir. DO I make myself clear?” Mr. Shale looked up at Youseff who just nodded. Despite the size difference between them Youseff was clearly intimidated by his dad-like tone.

“Yes sir!”

“Good man. I guess I have you to thank for helping our dear Jen finally get some more manly clothes? For some reason she didn’t want my help with a new wardrobe.” Mr. Shale shook his head disappointed.

“Yeah! We actually had a lot of fun going to the store and finding clothes that fit. The toughest part was finding shoes in her new size.” Youseff conceded.

“Youseff!” Jen blushed. She knew it was true. With her larger feet, she realized just how difficult it was to find footwear that fit. The largest most places went up to was size 15. Her now size 18 feet were tough to find anywhere!

“Sorry babe, but it’s true. Plus you said you had a great time shopping. Like old times, remember? You said that you weren’t sure we’d find a single pair, but when we went to the Big and Tall store, they had a few shoes your size! Even sandals!” Youseff explained.

Jen just shook as her dad applauded Youseff’s resourcefulness!

Before long the family was finally all together to share a meal! Jen’s parents were loving her boyfriend, though he could see that she was clearly embarrassed throughout the whole dinner.

By the time they left Youseff was driving them back to their apartment, where he asked. “Jen? Are you alright? I… I’m guessing that night wasn’t the most pleasant for you?”

Jen just nodded and hugged her boyfriend. Her broad frame embracing him with a tight squeeze. “My parents just take a lot out of me. Before the shift they were overbearing in a different way and now… well now they are always just so comfortable in their new bodies! My mom started going to the gym almost every day with her old book club. Each of them became some kind of fitness influencer. And my dad! He won’t stop telling me how proud he is to have a son now and that I need to start acting more manly. I don’t get how they can be so well adjusted to all this! I… I thought I was getting there. With you… being this kind of man feels easy. Even more exciting at times too.”

“I do love your mustache.” Youseff noted, causing Jen to giggle.

“See. It’s stuff like that. You always make me feel like your partner… and… I guess I need more time before I start feeling like a member of my own family again and not some older hairy guy.” Jen admitted.

Youseff kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I insisted we meet them so soon. I was so ready to take our relationship further and I was so nervous to meet them. But I forgot to consider how you were feeling about your parents. From now on, we can just focus on us.”

“I like that plan.” Jen smiled kissing back.

“Good. Maybe we can start with a pedicure tomorrow. I know you’ve been itching to try that out with your big new feet.” Youseff teased.

“Ha! These big new feet would love to get a pedicure. Maybe a foot massage later too!” Jen smiled, wiggling her big toes. When she was with Youseff she realized, maybe she could get used to this big body.

#female to male #body swap #gender change #the great shift #great shift

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 hours ago

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if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie events #steddielovemonth #steve harrington x eddie munson #prom #slow dancing #flirting #high school

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aqua-tophana · 2 days ago

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Actually, you know what? Reblogging again because the more I re-read Garret’s bullshit, the more it sounds like the Inquisitors from the Warhammer 40K universe preaching the Imperial Creed. An uncontrolled cult, completely cut off from its progenitor, radicalized against its founding tenants, and willing to devour any who hold to the “heresy” of wrongthink.

• “…We cannot afford mercy for any of its victims too weak to take the correct course. Mercy destroys us; it weakens us and saps our resolve. Put aside all such thoughts...”

• “Innocence proves nothing.” | “Blessed is the mind too small to doubt.” | "An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded."

• “The weak will always be led by the strong. Where the strong see purpose and act, the weak follow; where the strong cry out against fate, the weak bow their heads and succumb. There are many who are weak; and many are their temptations. Despise the weak … Pity them not and scorn their cries of innocence - it is better that one hundred innocently fall before the wrath of the Emperor than one kneels before the Daemon.”

Yada yada yada. But can you see the similarities?

Like, these people - the real ones like Garret, not the fictional Ecclesiarchy - are cartoonishly evil. Their extremism is extreme even compared to the intentionally radical and uncompromising theocracy of a fictional media that coined the term “grimdark”.

And they can’t see it. They can’t see that while claiming to follow a god who preached to the homeless and the infirm and the weak; who - if you look at cultural norms of the time - preached civil disobedience (that’s what turn the other cheek actually meant); who raised up the down trodden; god who preached love; who claimed the meek would inherit the world; who’s first converts were predominantly women and slaves - people without power; these people can’t see they are doing the exact opposite of every one of his core principals while calling it Good.

I’m a heathen; I don’t believe in the god of the New Testament. But if Christ was born in this age as he was said to back then, I am absolutely sure American Christians would try to deport him, jail him, lynch him. They’d call him “woke” and a simp and silence his voice as he tried to speak for the minorities and the disenfranchised.

This man, Ben Garret, claims to be Christian, claims to speak for Jesus and to know what Christians should do in his name. And he said they should hate.

“Do not commit the sin of empathy… you need to properly hate in response.”

This is American Christiandom. This is the theocracy that the zealots want to put into place. Not one built upon the foundations of love and tolerance and good will laid out by the god they claim to worship. One built on greed and bigotry and open, unabashed hatred of others.

My mother was a simple woman. She didn’t understand the dark and bloody history behind Christianity. She simply believed in Jesus and the most simple of his edicts - to love thy neighbor, to be charitable and compassionate, to welcome strangers, to heal the sick, to never throw stones for who among us has not sinned. I can’t believe I’d ever be grateful my mother has passed, but I find myself in that horrible position. Because I can’t imagine the heartbreak she would be feeling right now to see open applause as people preach hatred in the name of her god.

#i digress #religion #politics #american christianity #preaching hatred #warhammer 40000

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estrellami-1 · 3 days ago

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Stay for Dinner (Stay Forever)

ao3 link

Steve had never been more scared in his life.

He’d been through some things, he thought. Things that changed you as a person, probably. But now he understands why humans are apex predators.

Because he’s being hunted.

He’d started following Steve a few blocks back. He doesn’t have anything on him, pepper spray or a knife. He has keys and fear on his side.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chastises himself, blinking tears away and speeding up the tiniest bit. He sees, in the reflection of shop windows across the street, he’s matching Steve’s pace.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know who to ask for help, when he suddenly sees someone.

He’s an Alpha, Steve can tell right away, even though he’s not as strong-looking as other Alphas. He’s intimidating enough, all leather and chains and wild hair and tattoos, and Steve doesn’t know much about this punk kind of community, but he knows it’s a community, knows this is the safest person he’s gonna find.

He speeds up the tiniest bit more, is practically jogging when he reaches the man. “Baby!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around the man.

The man startles, but seems to catch on quickly, wrapping his own arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, darlin’,” he says happily, loud enough it carries. “How was your day?”

“Alright,” Steve admits, letting out a little chuckle full of stress.

“Yeah? What made it just alright?” He questions, stepping back to wrap his arm loosely around Steve’s waist, the barest hint of pressure to suggest they keep walking the direction Steve was heading.

Steve thinks, silently, he could fall in love with this man. He’s halfway there based on scent alone.

“Oh, you know.” He keeps his tone light, pretends to look at the man holding him. Actually looks past him, to more shop windows. The man who was following him disappears down a side street, and Steve feels so relieved he nearly collapses.

“Oh, hell,” he breathes out, stepping back and gusting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, fuck, he was- he was following me, and I wasn’t sure what to do-”

The alpha shushes him. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. I get it, I saw him, and hey, I’ve definitely been in worse situations than a pretty omega throwing themself at me.” His eyes twinkle, inviting Steve in on the joke.

He chuckles a little. “Seriously, thank you so much.” He puts a hand on his chest. His hand is still shaking. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I don’t know that either of us want you going anywhere alone right now, though. Do you have someone you can call? I’m sure we can pop into any of these places and you could ask to use their phone.”

Steve feels a whine build in his throat. “I don’t- don’t have anyone, I’m new here, my roommate is my absolute best friend in the world but she’s busy, and anyways she’s half an hour away, and-” his breath catches on the whine, brings it out on the exhale.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he promises. “Would it be okay if I came with you? Or is there a different designation or gender you’d rather escort you? I’m sure we could find someone.”

“No, it’s-” Steve takes a couple of deep breaths. Wills his voice to stop shaking. “It’s fine, you can- if you’re not busy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms. “And I’d love to walk you wherever you’re going.” He pulls back and extends a hand, grinning. “I’m Eddie.”

“Steve,” he gusts out, grasping Eddie’s hand and shaking it. “Seriously, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie promises. “My best friend in the entire world is an omega. She’s used me to get away from Alpha creeps so many times, I’ve lost count.” He puts a hand on his chest, bows his head. “And I’d like to formally apologize on behalf of Alphas everywhere. I promise we’re not all creepy knotheads.”

Steve giggles. “I believe you,” he promises. “Thank you. Again. And… thank you for making me feel like it’s okay.”

“It is okay,” Eddie tells him immediately. “That guy’s a real creep, and if I ever see him again, I’m probably just gonna punch him in the face. No words, not a hey, how’re you doing, just bam! Right in the schnoz.”

Steve giggles again. “I’d pay to see that.”

Eddie pouts at him, offers his arm as they continue walking. “You don’t think I could take him? I know I’m scrawny but I’m hiding some muscle, okay, I- well, I was gonna say I work out, but that would be a lie. The most working out I do is moving amps, setting up for a show.”

“You work for a band? Or- a venue, or something?”

“You could say that,” Eddie agrees, letting go of Steve to hop a couple steps in front of him and bow. “You are looking at the frontman of heavy metal band Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh,” Steve says, nonplussed, “I thought you were punk.”

“Punk?” Eddie exclaims. “An affront to my culture! An affront to metalheads everywhere! An affront to me!” He mimes stabbing himself in the heart, dropping in a heap to the pavement.

It makes Steve laugh as he nudges Eddie’s knee with his toe. “Eddie? Oh no, he’s dead. Guess I’ll have to go on alone, with no one to protect me.”

“And I’m revived!” Eddie exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hair falls in his face, and he spits it out of his mouth as he swipes wildly at it.

Steve laughs, moves in closer to help. He meticulously separates Eddie’s bangs from the rest of his hair, then steps back with a light flush dusting his cheeks, realizing how close they were. “There,” he murmurs.

“My hero,” Eddie intones, sweeping low into a bow again before standing straight up and once again offering Steve his arm.

He accepts, and they walk on together.

His apartment isn’t too far, only about fifteen minutes, and it seems much shorter than usual because of the easy conversation flowing. When they get to Steve’s apartment, he sees Robin’s car and grins at Eddie, motioning him inside. “Rob,” he calls, “I brought my boyfriend!”

She bursts out of her room. “Steve!” She yells, pulling him into a hug. She pulls back to study them. “You’ve never met this man before, you slut,” she tells him affectionately. “Hi, Robin Buckley, who are you?” She thrusts a hand Eddie’s direction.

He grins and shakes. “Eddie Munson, at your service.”

“Hi,” she agrees, then taps Steve rapidly on his shoulder. “Explain. Why do you scent stressed?” She presses her nose into his neck. “It’s old but still there. What happened, Dingus?”

“I was being followed,” he tells her.

“A creepy knothead variety of our designation,” Eddie explains.

“I saw Eddie and he was the first person who looked… safe.”

“He jumped me,” Eddie agrees, smirking at Steve. “Not really beating the slut allegation, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve tells him, laughing.

“I noticed what was happening,” Eddie continues. “Played along. Creep Alpha left, but-”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Steve admits. “And I knew you were busy, and way far out, and we don’t know anyone else in this godforsaken city.”

“Now you do,” Eddie tells him.

“Now I do,” Steve agrees softly.

“Eddie Munson,” Robin murmurs, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I know that name?”

“Um,” Eddie says, “are you into metal? I’m in a band.”

Robin snaps her fingers at him, expression brightening. “Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “Holy shit, yes! Have you seen us?”

“Oh, no,” Robin laughs. “Not really my scene. But there’s this pup we knows who’s absolutely obsessed. Never shuts up about you.”

Steve frowns. “Dustin?”

“Yeah, Dingus.”

“But I thought he was always going on about the other band.”

“Ah, yes, because as we all know, you can only ever like one band at a time.” She hits him with an extremely judgy expression. “Do you listen when your child talks?”

“Hey, if he’s mine he’s yours, and you know I don’t.”

“Um,” Eddie says, “child?”

“Not actually mine,” Steve reiterates. “But also basically yeah. And yes, he’s obsessed.”

A slow grin creeps across Eddie’s face. “In that case, do you want to do the funniest thing ever?”

Steve’s eyes spark as a manic grin makes its way onto Robin’s lips. “Oh, hell yeah,” Steve agrees.

They work out the plan: invite Dustin over, have Eddie be the one to open the door.

“Hey, little dude,” Steve says into the phone. “You busy for the next little bit?”

“Uh,” Dustin says, sounding distracted, “yeah? I’ve got a test due tonight, a paper due Friday, and then it’s prep for finals. Why?”

“Just, uh. Wanted to see if you wanted to come over,” Steve says weakly. “But if you’re busy-”

“Rain check,” Dustin decides. “Three weeks from Friday?”

Eddie, who’s standing close enough to hear, shrugs and nods at Steve’s questioning look. “Sure, bud,” Steve tells him. “Three weeks from Friday.”

“Okay, great,” Dustin says. “See you!” And hangs up.

Steve pouts at the phone for a second. “No respect,” he sighs.

“Aw, Stevie,” Eddie playfully pouts, “I’m sure your pup loves you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles at Eddie.

“What does the rest of your day look like?”

“I do believe the rest of my day depends entirely on what you’re planning with me.” He leans against the wall, shoulders curved toward Steve, who smiles rather bashfully.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Back in her room, Robin calls, “would you like to stay forever?”

Steve instantly blushes firetruck red. “Feel free to ignore her,” he tells Eddie. “She likes to quote movies at the absolute worst time.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Eddie murmurs. His cheeks are dusted pink. “I dunno about forever, not yet, but I certainly wouldn’t mind staying for dinner.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “Chicken work for you?”

“Chicken,” Eddie murmurs back. “Sure.”

Neither of them look away from each other.

The days turn into weeks. That first day—first night, really—Eddie was there, they’d exchanged numbers.

Steve talks to Eddie on the phone most nights. The nights he doesn’t, he’s with Eddie.

At first they’re just friendly. Friends. But there’s something deeper and they both sense it. Eddie’s rosemary-and-walnut scent mixes perfectly with Steve’s lemon-basil. Robin complains about getting hungry around them, and they just laugh, knowing she’s teasing.

Still, that something deeper is there, is entirely present, and Steve knows, and Eddie knows, and he knows Eddie knows he knows. They’re both inching toward a free fall.

There’s one night they’re in Eddie’s apartment. What Corroded Coffin sales don’t cover—which is most of it, Eddie had explained—his shifts at the mechanic shop do. He gets home, weary and grease-covered, and Steve had already let himself in, was making dinner for the two of them.

“Stevie,” Eddie groans, the second he steps foot in the door.

Steve clenches his thighs at the bolt of want that spears through him.

He laughs it off, halfway turns to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, smells amazing,” he breathes. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon. Do you know how big those are? And I mean a whole dragon, too, an adult, not a tiny baby one.”

“You’re hungry,” Steve summarizes.

“Starving,” Eddie agrees, brushing a kiss on his cheek before moving off to his bedroom to change.

Steve freezes. Hears the moment Eddie realizes what he’s done.

He’s got a choice to make, he knows. He could pretend like nothing happened. Things would be awkward, for a minute, but they’d get past it.

He could address it. Eddie might get nervous or defensive. Might not react well. Worse yet, he might say he didn’t mean to.

Or…

He sends out a happy, pleased scent, more honey-lemon than usual, and continues cooking.

He hears Eddie walk tentatively out of his bedroom. Hears the moment his feet hit kitchen tile and he smells Steve. “Oh,” Eddie whispers.

“Go change,” Steve murmurs lightly. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds. Steve can hear the smile. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he parrots.

He plates the food, and Eddie comes out just as he’s putting the plates on the table, wrapping him up in a hug. His nose dips closer to his scent gland than is strictly friendly, and Steve sends out more of the happy honey scent.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Yeah?”

Steve leans back into him, lets him support his weight. “Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s, around his waist.

He gets Eddie’s happy scent for his efforts, woodsmoke and petrichor filling his nostrils as he inhales.

They talk during dinner. About what they’re feeling, what they’re looking for. “Sweetheart,” Eddie tells him. He’s liberal with the terms of endearment, which Steve definitely likes. “I liked you the minute you threw yourself at me, trying to get away from that creep.” He inches his hands over the table, grabbing Steve’s. “But I fell for you the minute you laughed.”

Steve blinks. “The minute I laughed?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods. “I believe I was apologizing on behalf all Alphas everywhere, who aren’t raging knotheads. You giggled, and you said I made you feel safe, and I looked in your eyes and fell in.” He shrugs. “And, I mean, you know our scents are compatible.”

“More than that,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie nods. “Exactly! And I-” he gusts out a breath. “Hell, Steve, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be in love. But if it means a future with you? I’d do anything.”

“Love?” Steve asks, scarcely able to breathe.

Eddie bites his lip, grips Steve’s fingers a little bit harder. “Yeah.”

Steve abandons his food, rounding the table and collapsing onto Eddie’s lap. “I love you too,” he whispers. “I know it’s really early, but…”

“No take-backs.” Eddie smiles, pokes his side. “‘S not too early if we both feel it. ‘S just right.”

“Just right,” Steve murmurs, a wondering smile on his face. Suddenly, it turns teasing. “Which one of us is Goldilocks, then?”

Eddie snickers. “Obviously you, you’ve got the hair. My hair’s more like one of the three bears.”

Steve laughs, tugs teasingly on a curl. “Yeah, but I like your hair.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. ‘S metal.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie rumbles. “You tryin’a start somethin’?”

Steve hums, pulls back. “No, sorry. Just wanna be near you right now.” He looks up at Eddie. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect, baby,” Eddie agrees. He shifts, drags Steve’s plate closer. “Finish your food,” he suggests. “Then we can go watch a movie. Or call Robin, if I know you the way I think I do, this conversation isn’t going to be able to wait until you get home.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “it probably can’t wait till tomorrow.”

Careful eyes watch Eddie’s reaction. He smiles, nuzzles the side of Steve’s head. “Definitely not,” he says. “That would be a complete violation of best friend code.” He pokes Steve’s thigh. “Can we call Chrissy after? Can she come over? She hasn’t met you yet.”

Steve narrows his eyes in thought. “Chrissy’s your omega friend, right?”

“She is.”

“And does she like women?”

Eddie laughs. “I like the way you think, baby! Call Robin first, get her over here, Chrissy lives closer than you two do. I’ll call her as soon as you’re off the phone with Robin, okay?”

Steve grins. “Sounds great.” He shovels the rest of his food in his mouth, as fast as he can, then runs to the phone.

Eddie’s not any slower. He doesn’t even finish, excitement pulling any remaining hunger away, and he ends up behind Steve, pulling him into a hug as he talks to Robin.

They hang up after only a couple of minutes, and Eddie dials Chrissy’s number. “Hey,” he says, barreling on before she can even say hi back. “You’ve got ten minutes to get over here if you wanna meet my omega.” He winks at Steve, who beams back at him. Honey and woodsmoke permeate the space, dancing around and melting into each other, creating a soothing blend of scents.

He gets off the phone and turns Steve to face him fully. “Hi,” he murmurs.

Steve giggles. “Hi.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s eyes widen, and his inhale turns into a gasp. “Please,” he breathes, and Eddie does.

They’re still kissing, just little pecks, by the time there’s a knock on the door, signifying Chrissy’s arrival.

They part just long enough for Eddie to open the door and hug Chrissy. Steve scoots in under Eddie’s arm, leans into him as he greets her. Strawberry pastries bloom as she grins. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Steve giggles, shakes her proffered hand. “I agree. I’ve heard good things about you.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “And you don’t think it’s weird that he’s such good friends with an omega?”

Steve grins. “My Alpha best friend is on her way over as we speak. I’d argue I’m one of the few who really understands.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Chrissy nods, walking into the kitchen and fetching herself a drink.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “That’s Chrissy.”

“I heard that!” She calls.

Steve giggles. “I really don’t think you two can be worse than me and Robin.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby.”

“It wasn’t,” Steve protests, laughing. “Not everything has to be a competition.”

“It doesn’t have to, but it’s more fun if it is.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “C’mon.” He motions to the kitchen, and Eddie walks with him.

“So, Steve,” Chrissy says, sitting on the counter. “How did you two meet?”

Steve grimaces. “It’s not a very happy story.”

She sighs. “What did he do?”

Steve blinks, then laughs. “Oh, no, he was great. It wasn’t him at all.”

“C’mon, Chris,” Eddie complains. “You should know me better than that by now.”

“I do know you and that’s exactly why I thought it was you,” she fires back, before looking back at Steve with a little nod.

“I, uh. Robin and I are new here, so I don’t really know anybody yet. I guess I do now, but I didn’t. I was walking and I saw this Alpha following me. And I even tried turning, to see if he was actually following me? And he was. And I didn’t- I had keys, I guess, if it came down to it, but I really didn’t want it to come down to it.” He grimaces, realizes the air is rank with rotted greens. He grimaces again, apologizes. Smiles when Eddie grumbles, pulls him in tighter, and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Want me to continue?”

Steve shakes his head, relaxes in Eddie’s hold. “I can. Just… got overwhelmed for a second.”

“It’s alright, baby. Take all the time you need.”

“I mostly understand anyways,” Chrissy says softly. “If you’d rather skip all that.”

Steve sighs. “He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he tells Chrissy. “I saw Eddie standing there, in front of me a little, and he was the first person who looked safe. So I just… pretended. I ran up to him and hugged him, and called him baby, loud enough the guy following me could hear. And thankfully Eddie caught on quickly. He jumped in, no hesitation, and the guy left, but… I was still rattled from it, y’know?”

“Definitely,” Chrissy nodded.

“So he walked me home, came in and met Robin, and… stayed for dinner.”

Eddie snickers. “I think I did what Robin asked, though. I’m staying forever.”

Steve rolls his eyes through his grin. “She’s gonna be insufferable about that.”

“That’s your best friend, baby.”

“Yes, I know,” Steve grouses. He’s still smiling.

Just then there’s another knock on the door, and Steve sprints to open it. “Robin!”

“Steve!” She greets him. He gives her a hug and pulls her into the kitchen. “Robin, meet Chrissy, Eddie’s best friend.”

Robin blinks. “Uh,” she says. “Hi.”

“Hi!” Chrissy says. “It’s really nice to meet you. Steve said you’re like me and Eddie! That’s cool!”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “except we were here first.” She immediately blanches. “Oh, fuck, sorry, no, that implies that what you have isn’t the same as what we have, which means I think you’re a liar, except I don’t think you’re a liar, I swear, I just-”

Aside to Eddie, Steve whispers, “should we give them the room?”

In lieu of an answer, Eddie wraps his arm around Steve and quietly walks them out of the kitchen.

In the living room, sounds are a little muffled, but Steve hears Robin’s ramblings broken up by a softer, higher voice—Chrissy—and soon they’re both talking, a low murmur that works as the background to the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart against his ear where his head is pillowed on Eddie’s chest. He yawns, curls in a little. “I could fall asleep like this.”

“I’m here if you want to,” Eddie murmurs, running a hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here. Take you to bed, if you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I wanna stay out here. But if they stay in there for much longer, I’m gonna fall asleep. Especially if you keep that up.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, keeps rubbing his back. “You do that, baby.”

Steve does.

He wakes up slowly, later, in a way he hasn’t in so long. He’s used to his alarm blaring, shocking him awake, and the rare days he gets off he wakes up in a rush thinking he’s late for work. He rarely wakes up slowly like this, pushing his legs out to stretch, tilting his head up, humming when it puts his nose in contact with Eddie’s scent gland. Rosemary and woodsmoke seep into his nostrils, permeates every inch of his brain. He knows, distantly, he’s pumping out the honey again, but it’s unintentional, and he nearly falls back asleep. He drifts for a while, laying in that twilight of sleep, before Eddie shifts, waking up.

He puts a hand on Steve’s back, and Steve wakes up more, purrs. Eddie rumbles out an Alpha purr back. “Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles. Steve just hums again, and Eddie chuckles. “Not awake yet?”

Another hum. “Almost.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here.”

Another hum. “When’id Robbie n’ Chrissy leave?”

“They didn’t stay for too long. They left at the same time, and Robin triple-checked that you’d be spending the night here.”

Steve nods sleepily. “‘S good.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah. You wanna wake up or go back to sleep, baby?”

“‘M awake.”

“Wasn’t really my question, but I think that might’ve answered it anyways.” He dips his head to press a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve purrs again. Or more. He’s not sure he ever stopped in the first place.

His purring is interrupted by a yawn. He opens his eyes with he finishes, blinks in the dim light of Eddie’s room. “Food?”

“I can make some,” Eddie agrees. “How’s eggs and toast sound?”

“And coffee?”

“And coffee,” Eddie chuckles. “You gonna let me up? Or are you planning on becoming a limpet in your next life and you’re getting a head-start now?”

“Wanna go with you.”

“You can, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we’ve still gotta get up.”

Steve huffs out a dramatic breath, rolls out of bed and onto his feet. Stretches, then realizes he’s in boxers. No pants. He squints at his bare legs, then at Eddie, who smiles. “I didn’t want you wearing jeans in bed, sweetheart, I know how uncomfortable that is. I can give you some pajama pants if you want.”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

“You,” Eddie says, “are most welcome.” He rolls out of bed and strides to his dresser, tossing Steve a pair of red-and-black plaid sleep pants.

He dons his own, blue with pink polka-dots. Snickers when Steve looks between the two of them.

“You wanna know why I put these on? Instead of giving them to you?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “You know I like those better.”

“I put them on,” he pauses for a taffy kiss, sweet and stretched-out, “so you can take them home with you tonight and put them in your nest.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Steve breathes.

Eddie pushes in for another kiss, this one impatient, hot and searing, licking across the seam of Steve’s mouth, pressing between his lips, bullying his way past Steve’s teeth until he can taste him, and it should be gross because neither of them have brushed their teeth yet but instead it’s just good in a way that makes his Alpha light up. “Love you,” he mutters against Steve’s lips, pulling back to tap Steve’s hand, still holding the plaid pants. “Get dressed, baby. I’ll start on breakfast.”

“No, wait for me!” Steve whines, frantically pushing his foot into the half-folded leg of the pants.

Eddie waits, so Steve slows down a little, letting the pants unfold before he shoves his legs through the holes.

They pad out to the kitchen together, where Steve sits on the counter while Eddie pops bread in the toaster and fries some eggs.

Eating is a quiet affair, Eddie hooking his ankle around Steve’s as soon as they sit down, just wanting to keep that touch.

Eventually Steve has to go get ready for work, so he heads home and nearly bumps into Chrissy as she’s walking down the steps of his apartment building. He grins at her. “Hello,” he says, “sleep well?”

She flushes, but winks at him, and he laughs.

He continues on, up to his apartment, where Robin’s waiting for him. She’s in the kitchen, nursing her second cup of coffee. Steve knows it’s her second because she always downs the first the moment it’s no longer scalding. “Well hello there,” she says, lecherous grin on her face. “And what did you get up to all night, might I ask?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “We literally just slept, Robs, I didn’t wake up until this morning. I did pass Chrissy on my way in, though.”

She nearly chokes on her coffee, blush staining her cheeks pink. She tries to wave him away, goes for the sappy comment. “I’ve never known you to fall asleep on someone you’ve only known a few weeks. It takes longer than that for you to be willing to invite someone into your pack.”

Steve flushes, holds up the pants Eddie had on. “Um,” he says, “surprise?”

Her mouth drops open. “You bitch!” She delightedly shrieks.

He giggles. “Guess you were right about me being a slut, huh?”

“You should know by now that I’m always right. And I thought you said you didn’t have sex?”

“Yeah, but I can still be a slut without having sex.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s not how that works, at all, but also yes. You can. And only you, I think.” She shrugs, turns away to head to her room, bumping his arm with her shoulder. “You’re one of a kind.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

“I never said that was a good thing.” She disappears into her room, leaving Steve to stare after her.

To think she called him a bitch.

The week continues as it had gone before; he and Eddie still talk on the phone nightly, except now those are few and far between; they’re usually at an apartment, either bothering Robin or enjoying solitude with each other in Eddie’s apartment. On the nights when Steve doesn’t work the next day, he’ll stay over at Eddie’s.

He doesn’t entirely know what they’re waiting for. Why they haven’t had sex yet. They both want to, but it’s like there’s a lot whisper in the air, something murmuring not yet, it’s not time now, but soon. And honestly? Steve really enjoys the change of pace.

About a week later is the third Friday, the day Dustin’s coming over. Eddie gets there around noon, because when Dustin says six p.m., what he really means is whenever he feels like it.

That’s why, at a quarter after three, there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie slides in his socked feet over the hardwood, nearly running into the door and saving it at the last moment. Steve snorts.

Eddie throws open the door. “Ah, hello! You must be Dustin!”

“Oh holy shit,” Dustin says, blinking wide-eyed at Eddie. “You- you’re-”

“Wow,” Steve says, coming up to Eddie, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless before.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Good job.”

Eddie snorts. “Thanks?” He hip-checks Steve, sending a warm smile his way.

Steve grins back, moves to the kitchen. “In or out, Henderson, and close your mouth ‘fore you start catching flies like that Mona Lisa of yours.”

Dustin scurries inside. Eddie frowns. “Mona Lisa?”

“Yeah, he’s got one of those…” Steve waves a hand. “Plants that eat bugs.”

“Venus fly trap,” Dustin says. “You’re Eddie Munson.”

“I am.”

“And you’re in Steve’s apartment.”

“I am.”

Dustin pauses. “Why in the hell-”

Eddie wraps an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. “Ah, to be young and carefree, to know not the trap of a heart given to another-”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Steve says, crossing his arms. “Trap?”

Eddie freezes. “Not trap. Uh… fuck, I wrote myself into a corner.” He releases Dustin, bounds up to Steve. Ducks his head and looks up at him. “Forgive me?”

Steve chuckles. “Dramatic dork,” he says, but presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“What the fuck?” Dustin screeches.

Steve winces. “Dude, language and volume, c’mon. Christ, it’s like you’ve never seen two people kiss before.”

“But you!” Dustin says emphatically. “Him! How?”

Steve exchanges a glance with Eddie, then sighs and tells Dustin how they met. “He escorted me home, met Robin, stayed for dinner…”

“Stayed forever,” Eddie mumbles in Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckles. “Even if I thought you were punk when I first met you?”

“You what?” Dustin hisses. They both ignore him.

“Even then,” Eddie promises. “Especially then, actually, as soon as people know I’m in a band they act different. You didn’t. Just kept talking to me like a normal dude.”

“Oh,” Dustin says suddenly. “Really?”

Eddie offers him a crooked smile. “Don’t sweat it, man, according to Robin you’re an actual, genuine fan. Already worlds ahead of the people who didn’t give me the time of day until they thought I could give them popularity.”

Dustin nods. “That makes sense,” he says. “Still. It sucks that people are like that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I feel sorry for ‘em. Chasing everything they can to get an inch closer to the top. What’re they gonna see once they get there? A whole lotta nothing. Plus,” he smiles at Steve, “it means we’re here, now.”

Steve leans against him. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist. “Together,” Steve agrees.

“Together,” Eddie parrots.

“Oh,” Dustin murmurs again. “You guys, like, actually love each other, don’t you?”

Steve tilts his head. “How’d you know?”

“The way you looked at each other,” he says honestly. “Like it belongs in a movie or something.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs. Eddie’s arms tighten around his waist.

“You’re right,” Eddie tells Dustin. “We do.”

Steve snickers. “We do belong in a movie?”

Eddie laughs, dislodges Steve, swats at him until Steve swats back.

“Wow,” Dustin says, deadpan, “you two really do deserve each other. You’re both children.”

Steve exchanges a look with Eddie. They both charge Dustin, who chants, “Shit, shit, shit!” as he runs for the living room.

Eddie catches him around the waist, throws them both onto the couch, where they lay, giggling and panting.

Steve laughs, sitting on the chair to the left of the couch. “Speaking of children,” he asks Dustin, “do you want to call the rest of the Party?”

Dustin’s eyes gleam. “Holy shit, yes, wait, I brought-” he scrambles up, sending an elbow into Eddie’s gut in his hurry. Eddie squawks and grabs at the back of Dustin’s shirt, but Dustin’s out of reach, and doesn’t notice what he just caused. He digs around his backpack for a minute. “Ha!” He yells, holding up a walkie-talkie. “Okay, hang on, lemme-” he depresses the button. “This is Dustin calling a code yellow, everybody come in! I repeat, code yellow, come in!”

“This had better be good, shit-for-brains,” Max warns him.

“That’s what a code yellow means, Max. And you’ve gotta say over. Over.”

“Fuck you, how ‘bout that?”

“Christ,” Steve murmurs to Eddie. “Meet my feral children.”

Eddie grins back. “They sound like fun.”

“Okay,” Will chimes in. “I’m here. Dustin, don’t answer Max, she’s just gonna have an even worse comeback. Save yourself the pain. And us. Over.”

“El and I are here,” Mike says. “Over.”

“How about Lucas? Over.”

“Here,” Lucas says wearily. “What’s this about? Over.”

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

“You didn’t know him until today, shithead,” Steve tells him.

“Is that Steve? Hi Steve!” El calls. “What’s the news?”

He grabs the walkie out of Dustin’s hand, sends him a look when he tries to take it back. “The news is,” he looks at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, smiling. “my Alpha.”

He hands the walkie to Eddie. “Hey, guys!” He says. “My name is Eddie Munson. It’s nice to sort-of meet you!”

“Dustin,” Will says, low and controlled. “Tell me this isn’t a prank of some sort.”

Dustin steals the walkie back. “Dude, I nearly died,” he swears to Will. “It’s him. It’s really him.”

The walkie explodes with noise.

“Who?” Max asks.

“I’ll educate her,” Lucas promises, and then they’re both gone.

Then Mike, El and Will take turns pinging in. During a lull, Eddie swipes the walkie. “I’ve got a question,” he says. “Why do you guys calls yourselves the Party?”

“Oh, shit,” Steve murmurs. “I’m gonna lose you to them.”

“Never,” Eddie promises him.

“Uh,” Will says hesitantly. “We play D&D. It’s how most of us met, we were all interested in playing in school, and we kind of just… bonded.”

“No shit?” Eddie asks. “That’s super cool! Who’s your DM?”

“I am.”

Eddie laughs. “Dude, that’s great! I’ll have to pick your brain for storylines. Maybe we could swap our favorites? Do you have any homebrew or are they all canon?”

“They’re all canon,” Will admits. “But I did add my own twists to a few.”

“Man, that’s awesome! When I first started I was terrified I was gonna mess up. Had to do everything by the book. But then I got more confident and I started adding some of my own stuff in, and then I got even more confident and decided to write my own campaign.”

“And it was good?”

Eddie snorts. “Actually? It was complete shit. But I had good friends who didn’t tell me that, they encouraged me to keep trying, and I did, and now I’m actually good at whipping up a homebrew.”

“Wow,” Will breathes. “Could we- not now, obviously, but-”

Eddie chuckles. “I’d love to talk shop with you, Will.”

“Stealing you from me,” Steve murmurs. Eddie rubs a soothing hand on his thigh, passes the radio back to Dustin. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you really feel that way?”

Steve shrugs, tips his head down. “‘M just… feeling weird, I guess. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Eddie agrees, bringing Steve’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me how I can fix it?”

Steve shrugs miserably. “I don’t know.”

“You’re just feeling some kinda way?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s alright, baby. Wanna come sit over here with me?”

Steve considers it, then nods and moves from his chair to the couch, next to Eddie, close enough they’re touching all the way down and Eddie can comfortably get an arm around his shoulders. “There we go, sweetness. That better?”

Steve sighs, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and goes boneless. “Yeah.”

“See what I mean?” Dustin says, and that’s when they both realize he’d broadcasted their exchange to the rest of the Party.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you, little man,” Max drawls.

Dustin squawks. “Just because you’re taller than me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Yada yada. They’re sweet, is what they are, and maybe if you ever got your head outta your ass where your precious Suzie-poo is concerned-”

“Oh, fuck you, Maxine, and what if your guy hadn’t lived in the same town as you, huh?”

“I’d still be doing better than you!”

“Christ,” Steve mutters, curling a hand into Eddie’s shirt. “Make it stop.”

Eddie ducks down to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “You bein’ funny or serious?”

“Both,” Steve admits. “But mostly serious.”

Eddie chuckles, then plucks the walkie from Dustin’s grasp. “Alright!” He says. “That’s enough. This is Eddie, Steve, and Dustin, signing off. Over and out.” He twists the knob to turn the walkie off, then tosses it back to Dustin. “Put that away, please,” he says softly.

Dustin turns sad eyes up to Steve. “Did we cause a migraine?” He whispers.

Steve smiles, reaches out to grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Only a little one,” he admits. “Rain check on the rest of today?”

Dustin nods immediately, shoving the walkie into his bag and scent-marking Steve, accepting the same back, and then turning to Eddie with a questioning look.

“Sure, kid,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out and accepting the same. “It was really good to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles. “I’ve got a key, so don’t worry about locking me out. I’ll get it.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” Steve wonders.

“You told me to knock.”

“When have you ever done something I told you to.”

“…and the key was in my bag and I didn’t want to have to find it.”

“There it is.” Steve sighs fondly, shaking his head. “Never change, Dustin.”

“Never,” Dustin agrees, fishing the key out of his bag and brandishing it at them with a grin. “Call me?”

“I will.”

“M’kay. Bye, Steve. Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, Dustin,” they tell him, and then the door is closed. Eddie listens for the snik of the lock before he moves himself and Steve to lay down on the couch. “You wanna take a little nap, baby?”

Steve hums. “Should go in my room,” he murmurs. “And… need water first.”

Eddie carefully sits them up, helps Steve stand. “Go to your room, baby. I’ll get you water.”

Steve hums, leans into Eddie for a second. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Omega,” Eddie softly rumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you.” He pushes off Eddie and walks down the hall. Eddie watches him until he’s in his room, then moves to get his water.

The weeks continue. Eddie meets the rest of the Party. He and Max hit it off like a house on fire. Will has a much quieter, though no less sincere, appreciation for him. Steve teases him relentlessly about Mike’s obvious crush on him. “No!” Eddie cries. “He’s a child!”

The weeks continue. Steve is at Eddie’s apartment more than his own now. Robin’s taken to waving a white handkerchief whenever he leaves, like he doesn’t know she’ll be calling Chrissy the moment he’s gone.

The four of them get together fairly often; mandatory Friday movie nights, at the very least, though more often than not they’ll all just congregate at an apartment and stay until it’s far too late.

Steve and Robin’s lease is up soon. And because he tracks his heats, he knows his next one is due right around when their lease is up. “Just move in with Eddie,” Robin tells him. “Chrissy’s lease ends a month after ours. I’ll renew it, and a month in she’ll come live with me.”

“Maybe,” Steve hedges. “I’ll have to talk to Eddie about it.”

She scoffs, rolls her eyes. “Like he’d ever tell you no.”

Steve blushes, because she’s right and he loves it. “I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

“You’d better,” she threatens.

He does. He’s relaxing on the couch with Eddie after dinner when he looks up at him and asks, “Eddie?”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah, baby?”

Steve works his lip. “What do you think of me, maybe, moving in with you?”

Woodsmoke blooms. “How would you feel about it?”

“I really want to,” Steve whispers.

Eddie kisses him. “I do, too,” he whispers back.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“Um. The timing is… really not great. And I don’t know exactly when it’ll be, so it could be before or after mine and Robin’s lease is up, or it could hit, like, the day the lease expires, but.” He takes a breath. “Would you help me through my heat?”

“Baby,” Eddie rumbles, dipping to kiss his gland. “It would be my absolute honor.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #tw stalking #but only a little #starambles

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rawflwrs · 11 hours ago

Note

Can you pls write some more about terry ?

▐ sugardaddy!terryrichmond ୫ camgirl!reader

summary: after a long day of spending daddy’s money, you both decide to end the night giving your viewers a show.

writer’s notes: I tried my best with this, although it was rushed, so it’s definitely not my best work. I apologise if you don’t like it! I’ve just been busy with assignments, so I’ve been distracted. I also added visuals this time, so let me know if you guys enjoy them and want me to add them in future smut fics. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to like, comment & reblog </3 !!

warnings: explicit language, begging, pet names (daddy, princess, etc) overstimulation, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bimbofication, finger sucking, choking, spanking, age gap relationship and praising — bratty!sub!reader & dom!terry

tags: @luvrsluxe @gardenof-venus @theogbadbitch @fairygoround @nayaesworld @catxo @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @kenshisluvrgirl @bigjuiciisushii @todorokishoe24 @notapradagurl7 @writingsbytee

Terry knew you were high maintenance before he met you. The way your bedroom lit a soft shade of baby pink with gold and cheetah print accessories surrounding you, your nails and toes always freshly done, either in a sparkly baby pink or a basic french tip: you made sure you were put together. After all, all you did was dress up like a doll and men paid to witness it.

It was one of the few things Terry noticed about you. He never intended to come across you as he believed that watching porn or anything remotely related, wasn’t of any benefit to him, knowing that if he had any sexual needs, there were always a list of women who would be at his beck and call.

But before he knew it, Terry became one of your top contributors, starting off by sending you five thousand dollars in the first stream he joined and progressively adding another ten thousand for every stream after, just to hear you thank him as you pressed your toys into your glistening pink hole.

Terry loved the idea of spoiling a pretty girl like you, hearing your giggles as you repeatedly thanked him for sending you so many gifts or when you joked that you needed to see him in person to thank him properly: he knew that he needed you. When you had announced you were going to do private calls for your top contributors, Terry made sure he was number one on that list.

You were nervous. It was obvious that the person named ‘@/treatsfromterry’ was clearly obessessed with you and although you liked the idea of someone being so desperate for your attention that they would spend what felt like their lifesavings on you, you were also terrified that he would be some old creep.

You were so wrong. When a muscular caramel toned man, wearing thin rimmed glasses and a short sleeve black wife-beater popped onto your zoom call screen, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He was beautiful. You felt your mouth drop open slightly at the sight as his deep chuckle filled your ears. “You okay there, beautiful?” He questioned, fixing his camera position to ensure you can see him clearly. “Mhm” you trailed off, eyes lowering to his biceps. They were so big and soft: you wanted a bite.

“I need to hear you use your words, princess.” He sighed out, feeling himself harden at the sight of you wearing the lingerie he asked you to wear for this special occasion. “I’m fine, daddy. I just didn’t expect you to look so good.” You giggle, remembering that he asked you to only call him daddy. The name definitely fit the view you were seeing. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you wearing that for me.” He smiled, motioning towards your lingerie.

You smiled. “I mean you spoil me so much, it’s the least I could do. Do I look pretty?” You moved closer to your laptop camera, purposely angling it to face your breasts as you slowly message them, circling your brown areole’s. “So fucking pretty, princess.” He groaned, the ache in his pants getting worse. You smiled, leaning back before thanking him again. “Is there anything specific you want me to do for you, daddy?” You asked.

Initially, Terry thought about asking you to masterbate on the call to watch you moan his name, but he realised that it would be better to see that in person. “No, I just want to ask you one question.” He leaned forward to look directly in your eyes. “Oh? Go ahead, but I’m just letting you know that if I feel uncomfortable, I won’t hesitate to block you.” You said softly, attempting to set your boundaries as clearly as possible.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, princess. Tell me if I’m going too far, okay?” He assured you while you simply nodded.

“Outside of this-” he started, gesturing towards the camera, insinuating that he was referring to you being a cam girl. “What is your goal? What job do you aspire to have?” He questioned and it caught you off guard. It’s not usual that one of your viewers even care to ask about how your day was, never mind what your aspirations are. “I want to be rich.” You answered, earning a deep chuckle from him. “What?! I’m serious. I don’t aspire to work. I just want to make money and be happy.” You said truthfully. He found your answer fascinating because it wasn’t one he was used to hearing.

“What if I can be the one to make you rich and happy?” He asked, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, patiently waiting for your response. “Wh-what do you mean?” You questioned, feeling your body warming up from the tension. Although, he was miles away from you, he made his presence very known. “I’m an investor. I like to invest into businesses I know will be profitable and successful for me-” He started, before you cut him off, “you invest into people too?” You asked. “Not people. . . Just you.” He adjusted his glasses.

“I want you to be my sugar baby.” The comment had you puzzled. It wasn’t like people had never asked you to be their sugar baby, but it wasn’t normal for someone of his calibre to openly ask. “That means I get to spoil you and all I ask for in return is your time and attention.” He continued. You were still silent, debating on whether it would be a good idea as you only started your cam girl services to fund for your college tuition fees, not because you wanted to have close ties to the lifestyle long term. “You can continue your streaming services if you think that’s something I wouldn’t want you doing anymore. I just want you. I want to feel you and be close to you. That’s all I ask for, sweetheart.” He said as you thought deeply about the advantages of being a sugar baby.

“How do I know you’re really rich? You could just be lying to me to get me to meet you.” You pestered. He laughed before pulling out his phone, tapping a few buttons and showing you the amount of money he had in his bank account. You audibly gasped which caused him to laugh harder at the thought of you questioning his wealth. “Does that answer your question?” He asked. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your sugar baby.” You replied almost immediately. “Good girl.” He smiled once more. And with that, your relationship with Terry began.

Who would’ve thought that a year later, you would be walking around Chanel with a 6 ft 3 man, spending his money on whatever you touched. I mean, you had been in the store for less than hour and he already spent over twenty thousand dollars. Terry sat in the corner of the store, tapping away at his phone to handle some business dealings while keeping a close eye on you, knowing you get lost when you’re not in the right mind. “Daddy, come look at this.” You asked softly as he held one finger at you to tell you to wait a moment. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart.” He replied.

You hated when he wasn’t paying attention to you, especially because you knew that whatever he was looking at wasn’t more important than you. “Why do I even bother.” You pouted, grabbing your bags and attempting to leave the store without a second thought. Terry immediately followed after you and paused your movements, noticing your demeanour shift. “I’m here, princess. I’m sorry, you know how work is right now.” He grabbed your chin for you to look up at him. “You said you wanted my time and attention, whole time, you’re too busy on your stupid fucking phone!” You barked back, attempting to walk away before feeling your arm get yanked back.

“Who the fuck you talking to like that? I’ll fuck you up in front of everybody.” He started. “Tread lightly. This bratty attitude ain’t cutting it for me.” He warned. Yes, Terry was a sweet man who was never aggressive with you unless you asked him to be, he still would never tolerate disrespect and recently you’ve been having more bratty outbursts than usual. At first, he thought you were simply hormonal, but as it became consistently worse, he became more agitated that you thought your behaviour was acceptable. “Whatever.” You storm back into the store, ignoring glares from the workers and continue your shopping.

It wasn’t long before you were laying across Terry’s lap on your stomach with your camera angled just so your viewers can see his chest, but not his face as he spanked you in the room he dedicated in his house as your filming room, covered in Sanrio themed accessories after you told him you loved them. “You can take it, princess.” He spanked your plush ass again, watching it slowly bruise up as the live gained more traction with people sending more gifts and reactions. “M’ sor-so sorry, daddy! Please!” You pleaded, feeling yourself start to lose your vision as you stained your cheeks with wet hot tears.

“But you look so pretty like this, mama. Don’t y’all agree?” He questioned, almost taunting the viewers as he landed another harsh slap. Your live stream was gaining more views by the minute, but all you could think about was how much you needed his touch. “Pl-pleasee, daddy. Touch me- I want it so bad.” You cried out. “I nee-ed you.” You breathed out. “That’s all you had to say, princess.” He lifted you to straddle him, facing you towards the camera as he spread your legs open for them to see. “Look at how wet you are.” He slapped your clit harshly, causing you to yelp and jump forward from the impact.

You covered your mouth with your hand as he continued to slap your clit four more times, chuckling after each slap. “Dadd-ah pleasee!” You squealed, knowing your body was giving up on you. Terry used his left hand to grab you by your throat, applying a little bit of pressure to assert dominance. “You know I don’t like brats. Why do you keep playing with me?” He whispered in your ear, rubbing your clit in a circular motion, slowly. “M’ sor-” you were cut off by him applying more pressure to your throat. “You’re sorry? Were you sorry when you embarrassed me today?” He questioned, his grip on your throat getting tighter as he fastened the pace of rubbing your clit.

You couldn’t even respond due to the pressure he had on your throat. Terry moved his left hand up into your mouth as you attempted to catch a breath. He stuck his two fingers in your mouth, watching you suck them softly. He almost forgot you were on your live stream until he heard a ping from your computer which indicated you had reached over fifty thousand viewers: a new milestone. “People like seeing me use you, princess. Should we do this more often?” He asked, pushing his fingers further down your throat while you simply nodded.

He pulled his fingers out your mouth, watching closely as a string of your saliva creeped out. You coughed at the feeling of your airways being free. “You’re my filthy little slut. Aren’t you, angel?” He teased, using both of his hands to rub your clit aggressively. You gripped onto his biceps, your face contorting from the mixed pleasure that you were receiving. Your pussy ached from the heat and you felt yourself losing consciousness. “Aww, you gonna pass out on daddy? But I’m only just getting started, baby.” He cooed. “You can take it.” He bit your shoulder.

The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching, your inconsistent moans and your sweat dripping from all parts of your body made viewers wish they were Terry right now. It was fucking disgusting. You practically losing yourself and he hadn’t even fucked you yet? You were pathetic. He slowed down his pace when he saw you squirting and your juices nearly hitting your laptop camera: truly cinematic.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock aching just from the sight. Terry knew when you started squirting like this, you weren’t far from cumming. “You close, bunny?” He teased as your legs trembled in response. “M’ c-close, pa!” You squirmed, closing your eyes shut while he rubbed you gently, still ensuring his touch was firm. You felt yourself slipping away into your own headspace as you knew you would cum any moment now. That was until, he moved his hands away from you, earning a loud whine.

“You think I’d let you cum after how you acted today? Nah, get on all fours.” He pushed you off him, causing you to fall to the ground. Your legs were still wobbly, but you knew better than to argue with him. After all, it was your mouth that got you in this position in the first place. You sat up on the bed, getting into his preferred position. “Stretch that ass out.” He ordered, watching you spread your ass hole open, ready for him to stuff your ass, whole.

You knew you were in for a long night.

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katyawriteswhump · 20 hours ago

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love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

#omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse steddie #steddie omegaverse #steddie omega cat cafe #rock star eddie munson #steddie au #steddie fluff #slick sunday #steddie

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shinyuin · 2 days ago

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First "I Love You" — Cale Henituse x Reader

You had always known that Cale Henituse was a man of contradictions.

He called himself a slacker but never rested. He claimed to want a peaceful life, yet he stood at the forefront of wars, rebellions, and disasters. He insisted he wasn’t kind, yet his hands carried the weight of the world for those he considered his people.

And, of course, you knew that if there was one thing Cale Henituse absolutely did not do, it was expressing unnecessary emotions.

So, you had never expected an “I love you” from him.

Even after everything you had been through together—standing at his side through battlefields, tending to his wounds after every reckless act, and sharing quiet moments in between the chaos—you never thought he would say it outright. Because Cale wasn't someone who put his feelings into words. He showed them in his own way: in the careful way he ensured you ate properly, in the way his sharp eyes always found you first in a crowd, in the way he positioned himself slightly in front of you when danger was near.

And that had always been enough.

Until now.

—

The battlefield was quiet. The kind of silence that only followed after an overwhelming victory or a devastating loss.

You weren’t sure which this was.

Your body ached, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, but you ignored it. Your eyes were focused on Cale, who sat slumped against a broken wall, his usually pristine red hair damp with sweat and blood. His breathing was steady—thank the gods—but he was clearly spent. The ancient powers had drained him again, his body unable to handle their toll.

You crouched beside him, reaching out instinctively. Cale.

His eyelids fluttered open slightly, revealing tired but sharp red eyes. He stared at you for a long moment before sighing. You’re still here?

You frowned. Of course, I’m here.

A weak smirk tugged at his lips. I thought you’d be smart enough to run away from all this madness by now.

You rolled your eyes. And leave you to die in a pile of rubble? Not a chance.

Cale exhaled slowly, shifting slightly. That’s foolish.

And yet you’re the one who threw yourself into the heart of battle again, you shot back, voice tight with lingering frustration. How many times have I told you not to—

I know. His voice was quiet, but it held a weight that made you stop. His eyes locked onto yours, serious despite the exhaustion clouding them. I know. But I had to.

Because that was who he was. He would never sit back and do nothing while his people were in danger.

Your shoulders sagged, your anger fading into something softer—something heavier. You always ‘have to.’ And I always have to sit here and watch you get hurt.

Cale was silent.

Then, after a long pause, he spoke.

I don’t want you to get hurt.

You blinked. What?

His gaze flickered away, lips pressing together as if he was considering taking the words back. But then he sighed again, almost in resignation, and looked at you.

I don’t want you to get hurt,he repeated. I don’t want you to worry about me. I don’t want you to—He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his bloodied hair. It’s annoying.

Your heart clenched. You knew Cale well enough to understand that when he said annoying, he didn’t mean it in the way others did. He meant frustrating. He meant terrifying. He meant that the thought of you being in danger, of you worrying over him, made something twist inside him in a way he wasn’t used to.

Cale…

I don’t understand it, he muttered, almost to himself. “But every time I see you in danger, I— He cut himself off, his jaw tightening. I don’t like it.

You reached for his hand, gripping it gently.

I know.

Cale stared at your joined hands as if the sight was foreign to him. And maybe, in a way, it was. He had spent his whole life avoiding deep emotional attachments, keeping people at arm’s length.

But he hadn’t been able to do that with you.

Slowly, as if testing the motion, he curled his fingers around yours. His grip was weak but warm, grounding.

And then—

“…I love you.”

It was barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught. Your mind froze.

And yet, despite the quietness of his voice, those words echoed louder than anything else on this battlefield.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs. Cale—

I don’t know when it happened, he continued, as if he hadn’t just shattered the reality you knew. His brown eyes locked onto yours, uncharacteristically raw and unguarded. I don’t know why it happened. A pause. “But it did.

Your fingers tightened around his.

He sighed again, tilting his head back against the wall. Annoying.

You let out a choked laugh. You keep calling it that.

“Because it is.” His eyes slid shut for a moment before reopening, softer this time. 'But… I still love you."

Your chest felt impossibly full, emotions threatening to spill over. Cale Henituse, the man who refused to let anyone in, had just laid his heart bare. And he had done it in the most Cale way possible—begrudging, frustrated, but undeniably real.

You lifted your joined hands, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “I love you too.”

Cale blinked, as if the words were somehow surprising to him despite everything. Then he let out another long-suffering sigh, muttering, “Now we’re both doomed.”

You laughed, pressing your forehead against his. Yeah. But at least we’re doomed together.

#manhwa x reader #tcf x reader #cale henituse x reader #cale x reader #cale henituse #reader insert #x reader #manhwa #trash of the count’s family x reader #trash of the count's family #romance #totcf x reader

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ilysungho · 2 days ago

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hiii

may i req 5, 51, 46 with vry soft dom leehan & sick/slightly feverish needy and a little frazzled (bc feverish nd stuff) sub reader 🥺

a/n: hi love! thank you for asking and i’m so sorry for how long it took to put this out… enjoy nonetheless and lmk your thoughts! wc: 0.7k contains: soft dom!leehan x sub!reader, reader is sick/has a fever, fingering, lowercase intended, prompts italicized

coughs and sneezes echoed through the walls of your room as you sat on the bed, sniffling with a red nose and a trash can full of dirty tissues. but still, your fever wasn't enough to hide the smell of the hearty soup leehan prepared for you. or well, ordered and is reheating at the moment.

he stepped into your bedroom with a cute apron around his waist, reading "kiss the chef". you bought it for yourself, being the cook between the two of you, but it was a treat to see him dressed like so.

"may i kiss the chef?" you smiled as he leaned down to check you temperature, the back of his hand on your forehead. he looked confused but quickly realized it was his apron you referred to.

"no, you may not. i love you but who's going to take care of you if i get sick?" he gave his signature smile, eyes forming into the beautiful crescent shapes. you pouted, thinking about how you haven't kissed him in the past 2 days from being so sick.

the pout almost made your boyfriend cave in, but he stayed strong. well… a compromise could surely be made right? he was never one to deny when you wanted something after all.

“ok how about this. you let me take care of you, yeah? i’ll do the work.”

“care how though? you’ve already been doing so m-” a hush followed by his finger on your lips made you quiet as he sat beside you, bringing you to sit on top of his lap. you gasped at the shift in position, not used to moving around a lot in the time you’ve been sick.

“lift your hips up for me, baby.”

you followed his command, already feeling hot in anticipation as he hooked his fingers onto the sides of your bottoms, pulling them down to leave your lower body bare. he caressed the supple skin of your thighs, kissing your neck in unison as he hummed words of love and praise. his fingers reached towards your clit after, touching the nub ever so gently.

as you moaned out, he slid his other hand up your shirt to provide some more stimulation through your nipples. he touched you softly, yet your fever heightened all the sensations quicker than ever before.

“you feeling good baby?” leehan kissed your neck once more as you nodded, back arching slightly. he chuckled as his fingers spread the wet slick that fell out of you around your folds. aligning his fingers in between the folds, he rubbed up and down slowly, slightly squeezing your clit every time his fingertips went close.

your lips sputtered out sounds of pleasure as you closed your eyes and grabbed the sheets below to steady yourself. he perfectly touched you, still praising you as if you were the one doing the work.

your moans turned into whines as his fingers slipped past your hole, now fingering you. his strokes were slow, but every single one led to you feeling more on edge than before. maybe it's the sickness that has you feeling extra sensitive, but leehan loves how you are getting so excited so quickly.

he's done this many times before, so he knew exactly which buttons to press to get you to come for him. you felt his fingers explore you, curling into you as you moaned out your boyfriend's name in a sultry voice. he chuckled as he kept going, kissing your shoulders one again as you shook under him.

“leehan i-”

“i know baby, just let go.” he breathed against your ear, pulling his fingers out and stimulating your clit once again. and you got the exactly you needed to finally let go and release on his hands. your body limp, you laid against leehan’s chest as you breathed out until you came back to your senses.

leehan put you down on the bed as he got up to go to the kitchen once again. but before he left, he leaned down and kissed your forehead while whispering a softly exhaled, “i don’t think i can ever get enough of you.”

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gatheringbones · 53 minutes ago

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[“Oftentimes when we think about preparing for penetrative sex, we think about the willingness and readiness of the penetrator: a penis becoming a boner, a dildo being lubed up. And yes, sadly, a phallus can usually make its way inside a canal whether the canal is ready or not. But wet and swollen pussies and rectums and throats are, simply put, better for fucking.

That’s one of the many advantages of fisting for people who enjoy being penetrated: unlike a cylindrical phallus, it requires patience and finesse to get the considerably bumpier shape of a hand inside. It’s easier for most penises to slip into most vaginas or rectums, but “easy” doesn’t necessarily translate to “more pleasurable” for anyone involved. Fisting emphasizes what the fistee wants and needs in order to relax and open, which changes the act of penetration from “let’s get this done” to “let’s take our time.” It’s not that it always requires hours of tantric foreplay: I’ve seen people swallow hands in a matter of minutes. But fisting tops and bottoms do need to be attuned to each other more than in any other kind of intercourse.

Adamczak mentions fisting several times in her piece (“a closed hand around a dildo, of lips around a foot, of a vagina stretched over a fist”). To my mind, getting fisted is the ultimate act of circlusion, even if the term itself refers to the penetrating body part. Fisting necessitates communication, patience, finesse, embodied listening, and active breathwork. This may go some way toward explaining why fisters tend to enter a meditative, trance-like state. Fisting requires intentional engagement from the bottom, because in order to take a fist you really have to breathe deeply, to communicate about slowing down or wanting more, to reach for the poppers, to ask for the lube. And these are all things bottoms could be doing all the time, but fisting takes us out of our assumptions that the bottom is there to satisfy the top’s lust, to simply take it. A fistee must be a size queen, someone who loves to be filled up with something massive. Opening to a fist is a trust fall for everyone involved. When your hand is deep inside someone, you can feel their heart beating back against you. Sometimes when I’m up to my wrist in an aroused, engorged bottom, watching and feeling and listening to and smelling a partner so aroused they’re thrashing and bearing down and grasping back and contracting over and over, I think: Why would you fuck a hole that isn’t turned on? Sure, I take pride in turning people on and driving them insane with ecstasy, but fucking an engorged hole is just more fun, like bouncing on a trampoline or being tossed into the air by a taut parachute, with all the verve that inspires.

It’s not just penises that enjoy being circluded either. Clit heads respond to pressing and smashing and mashing, especially once they’ve been teased into arousal. The suction of a mouth or pump toy vacuum sealed around the vulva can create the feeling that your junk is swollen enough to put inside of something or someone. “What matters is not what parts a body possesses, but rather, which parts are put into action,” concludes Adamczak, and this is a queer manifesto bigger than circlusion, bigger even than fisting. When we reinvent and remap our anatomy for the purpose of pleasure, we leave behind inherited anxiety and shame around what our bodies are capable of, opening wide to engulf the future.”]

tina horn, from why are people into that? a cultural investigation of kink, 2024

#tina horn #currently reading

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kippuchan · 3 days ago

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This is a really nice list. It’s cool to see how many things I already do, and what things I could really stand to do. I guess the upshot is, there are so many little things that we can all do. And it’s all useful.

I’d say I’ve sworn off fast fashion for a while (10+ years) now. If i do get an item of fast fashion (usually it’s a gift) but I’ll be repairing it and wearing it for years. My goal for this year was to buy no new clothes (aside from underwear)- and I did cave and get a new shirt in early Jan- but I thrift a lot and I sew and I donate and textile recycle once clothes get to that point.

My mum cuts my hair (I’ve never been to a salon). She cuts all our hair (even my dad, after covid). I do my own nails when I want to. Hair gets put in the garden for local birds to take for their nests.

I have a little garden, with a lemon tree and herbs and some eggplant and capsicum plants. My parents have fruit trees, and chickens. I have a little vermicompost- my parents have like 3 different compost heaps. My mum plants a veggie garden each year. I buy local milk when I can. I get my bread from a local bakery. I could stand to shop more at local butchers, and go to fresh food markets, but it’s in the back of my mind. I try not to buy food out of season.

I have recycling streams for different items. Batteries, e waste, medication blister packs. This has been normal for me for the last 10+ years. They all get collected and then taken to their respective collection points. Lots of supermarkets have battery recycling now, the stationary store has batteries, printer stuff, pens, ewaste and so many. The pharmacy takes blister packs.

I volunteer with a student department, and I have done so for several years now. I visit my local library and borrow things about every few weeks. I lend my own books to friends. I hold the elevator doors open for people. I give directions when asked (and I must give off “knows stuff +approachable” vibes because I get asked a lot!). I try to be helpful.

I shop local for gifts, generally. I go to handcraft markets and I get local dyed yarn and I get alpaca yarn from the farm 30min out of town, and I buy from local yarn and fabric shops, and teamakers, rather than big box most of the time.

I mix up my transit when I can (as a physically disabled person, sometime car is just the only option for me). But I enjoy taking the bus or the tram when I can, and I always use PT over taxis or Ubers. My car is a little second hand study in petrol efficiency, and I love her. When she dies, it’ll be hybrid or electric for me I think. Where I live, 97% of our power is renewable, from solar and from wind farms. This isn’t the norm in my country, but it makes me really proud!

I’m trying to engage more with local music and theatre and stuff. That’s another 2025 goal!

I need to be better about online stuff. I do have one music and one tv streaming service, and I still use chrome (I know :////). It’s on my list of things to do.

I grew up with a lot of these things normalised (hair cuts at home, donating clothes, recycling the heck out of everything, reduce reuse recycle, compost and garden, repair and sew) that sometime I forget that this isn’t the norm. It can seem overwhelming, but pick one things at a time to try and incorporate, and I’m sure a lot will feel like your normal in no time. And every little bit helps.

25 ways to be a little more punk in 2025

Cut fast fashion - buy used, learn to mend and/or make your own clothes, buy fewer clothes less often so you can save up for ethically made quality

Cancel subscriptions - relearn how to pirate media, spend $10/month buying a digital album from a small artist instead of on Spotify, stream on free services since the paid ones make you watch ads anyway

Green your community - there's lots of ways to do this, like seedbombing or joining a community garden or organizing neighborhood trash pickups

Be kind - stop to give directions, check on stopped cars, smile at kids, let people cut you in line, offer to get stuff off the high shelf, hold the door, ask people if they're okay

Intervene - learn bystander intervention techniques and be prepared to use them, even if it feels awkward

Get closer to your food - grow it yourself, can and preserve it, buy from a farmstand, learn where it's from, go fishing, make it from scratch, learn a new ingredient

Use opensource software - try LibreOffice, try Reaper, learn Linux, use a free Photoshop clone. The next time an app tries to force you to pay, look to see if there's an opensource alternative

Make less trash - start a compost, be mindful of packaging, find another use for that plastic, make it a challenge for yourself!

Get involved in local politics - show up at meetings for city council, the zoning commission, the park district, school boards; fight the NIMBYs that always show up and force them to focus on the things impacting the most vulnerable folks in your community

DIY > fashion - shake off the obsession with pristine presentation that you've been taught! Cut your own hair, use homemade cosmetics, exchange mani/pedis with friends, make your own jewelry, duct tape those broken headphones!

Ditch Google - Chromium browsers (which is almost all of them) are now bloated spyware, and Google search sucks now, so why not finally make the jump to Firefox and another search like DuckDuckGo? Or put the Wikipedia app on your phone and look things up there?

Forage - learn about local edible plants and how to safely and sustainably harvest them or go find fruit trees and such accessible to the public.

Volunteer - every week tutoring at the library or once a month at the humane society or twice a year serving food at the soup kitchen, you can find something that matches your availability

Help your neighbors - which means you have to meet them first and find out how you can help (including your unhoused neighbors), like elderly or disabled folks that might need help with yardwork or who that escape artist dog belongs to or whether the police have been hassling people sleeping rough

Fix stuff - the next time something breaks (a small appliance, an electronic, a piece of furniture, etc.), see if you can figure out what's wrong with it, if there are tutorials on fixing it, or if you can order a replacement part from the manufacturer instead of trashing the whole thing

Mix up your transit - find out what's walkable, try biking instead of driving, try public transit and complain to the city if it sucks, take a train instead of a plane, start a carpool at work

Engage in the arts - go see a local play, check out an art gallery or a small museum, buy art from the farmer's market

Go to the library - to check out a book or a movie or a CD, to use the computers or the printer, to find out if they have other weird rentals like a seed library or luggage, to use meeting space, to file your taxes, to take a class, to ask question

Listen local - see what's happening at local music venues or other events where local musicians will be performing, stop for buskers, find a favorite artist, and support them

Buy local - it's less convenient than online shopping or going to a big box store that sells everything, but try buying what you can from small local shops in your area

Become unmarketable - there are a lot of ways you can disrupt your online marketing surveillance, including buying less, using decoy emails, deleting or removing permissions from apps that spy on you, checking your privacy settings, not clicking advertising links, and...

Use cash - go to the bank and take out cash instead of using your credit card or e-payment for everything! It's better on small businesses and it's untraceable

Give what you can - as capitalism churns on, normal shmucks have less and less, so think about what you can give (time, money, skills, space, stuff) and how it will make the most impact

Talk about wages - with your coworkers, with your friends, while unionizing! Stop thinking about wages as a measure of your worth and talk about whether or not the bosses are paying fairly for the labor they receive

Think about wealthflow - there are a thousand little mechanisms that corporations and billionaires use to capture wealth from the lower class: fees for transactions, interest, vendor platforms, subscriptions, and more. Start thinking about where your money goes, how and where it's getting captured and removed from our class, and where you have the ability to cut off the flow and pass cash directly to your fellow working class people

#kippu rambles on sustainability and thinking local #I hope this doesn’t seem preachy #I totally get life factors means this isn’t accessible for everyone #but this kinda stuff is really near and dear to my heart

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sunflower-author · 3 days ago

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Yandere Bonten x Reader

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The reader is Gender neutral in this!!

TW: Sewer slide attempt, attempt drug use,

Bonten Timeline, where Bonten has kept you in the penthouse for a LONG time, and out of spite from every horrible thing they have ever done, you decide not to speak to them out of resentment Bottling up all your emotions. Hoping that they will eventually grow bored of you and either let you go or finally end your suffering.

One day, in particular, everything that you had been bottling up has finally reached its breaking point...

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“Y/N, go get your hairbrush on the bathroom counter please, I can tell you didn’t brush your hair this morning,” Kakucho said, sitting down on the couch right beside you.

Ever since Mikey said that he prefers your hair long, you were forced to grow it out. You can’t say you like it, but at least it hides all of the ugly marks on your neck and body from them…

Everyone else just goes with it; whatever Mikey says goes. It is unsure if the others like your hair as much as he does, but no matter what, they sure do act like it.

Getting up, then making your way to the main bathroom everyone uses, spotting the black brush, then grabbing it, and just as you were about to leave it caught your eye.

A little orange bottle with a white childproof cap. Slowly picking it up, you begin to realize that it is one of Sanzu’s many drugs. He must have left it here on accident, rushing for his mission today.

Bad day for him, but amazing for someone like yourself.

There is a good amount of pills in this container, and knowing Sanzu, only carrying around the ‘best’ (strongest) on him. He could drain this dry and it still wouldn’t be enough for someone like him.

This would be enough to kill any normal person, especially someone who has been clean for over a few years.

Slowly opening the cap, pouring the rest of the bottle in hand. Then quickly raise all of it to your mouth, only to have a hand grip your wrist.

You don't even need to turn to know who it is.

“I can’t even leave you alone for a minute before you end up doing something dangerous, put it down,” Kakucho says as he sighs. Physically, there is no chance against Kakucho.

Putting your arm down slightly to put the pills back in the bottle, while you are doing that, Kakucho’s grip softens little by little.

Once the cap is closed, you turn to look at him dazed.

“I won’t tell anyone… but if I catch you doing that again, I’m telling everyone,” he says, as he takes the pill bottle. Nodding your head yes, you just grab the brush as you both walk back to the couch.

After settling down, he starts to brush your hair. “Honestly what were you thinking? Did you just want to be on drugs or something, or was that a serious attempt?” he asks, sighing again.

“Listen I know that you hate your life here. But is it truly that bad? You can have whatever you want, having Kokonoi and Takeomi buy you anything you could dream, Sanzu would literally do anything for you, Mocchi would always listen to your rants when you talked, Ran and Rindou well they argue a lot but are fun to watch too… I try my best… even if you don’t see it…” his words are slow and cold.

“I admit that I am just as guilty as the rest of them, and everything we do is for your safety… even if you don't think it is… that is the truth…You may despise us for the rest of your life, but as long as we can keep you safe, that is what matters…” At this point, he seems to be pouring his heart out…

Sadden asks, “Do you hate me…? For doing all of this?” Shocked you shook your head no… Kakucho did nothing… all he ever did was follow orders, even if he hurt you and others, he is not to blame, you know that he feels guilty for everything he has done. After all, you have always felt slight empathy towards Kakucho, he is the kindest out of all of Bonten.

“Will you please talk to me again,” He begs more than questions, you just shrug, leaving that as that. “Is life better now, than when it was when you first was brought here?” he asks, you reply with a simple nod. “That’s good at least, although I can imagine that it was like hell, the first few days,” he responds. Try the first few weeks…

After a good handful of questions, he pauses for a few seconds like he is thinking, confused, you tilted your head back and looked at him. Suddenly it is like the lightbulb rang for him.

“Would you be willing to respond to me, with more specific answers, if I have you write it down? That way you wouldn’t have to speak?” he says, nodding your head yes. He rushes out of the room to grab something.

When he is back, he has an iPad in hand, pulling out the stylist pen, he gives the pen to you as he sits on the couch. Looking at the Ipad it is already in drawing mode. “Now… why don’t you talk?” he asks.

‘I wanted to punish you guys for everything you ever did to me. I thought if you guys assumed I was broken, maybe I would find a way, to not live like this, even a peaceful death would be ideal.’

When he was reading this you could tell that he was stunned unsure of how to respond he just asked another question. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

You write, ‘Until I can be free, or at least have some freedom’

“I can talk with Mikey…” You both know that the conversation will be a waste of time for both Kakucho and Mikey, but he can still try if he wants to.

‘You’re a good person Kakucho, compared to everyone else you have the most empathy. Plus you only follow orders, due to your loyalty. I know you mean no harm to me, even if it is for better or worse, truthfully if it was just you and me I would talk to you.’ You wrote down.

“What do you mean? We are alone,” he states. Just two words I write down, ‘security cameras’ After he reads that he says, “Oh I forgot about that…,” as he looks up around the room looking at the cameras.

“I know you think we are being excessive with everything, but you have to know, we are doing everything we can to protect you… we know everything about you… there are no secrets that are kept between us…” He takes a longing pause. He is quiet… too quiet, Shit you have a bad feeling about this…

He sighs thinking, then turns to you. “Y/N… you know that Bonten made a pact to keep no secrets, and to take care of you… and today you just tried to overdose with Sanzu’s drugs… This is not just a small secret I would be hiding from them. This is about your life you could have died today if I wasn’t there to catch you... I’m sorry but I will have to tell them. I care about you and your safety… this is something I can’t hide from them.” he says looking down in shame.

This fucker… If he tells them you would be on a tighter leash than before. Things would be like how they were when they first took me. There is no way in hell you are starting back at the bottom. You have worked your way by playing nice, then the silent treatment, which they all hate. If you are back at the bottom it will take months til you can just freely walk around this building.

You know what… Fuck it you had already told him too much if you go out... You're going out with a bang. This is just a lot to grasp… This is to be expected from Sanzu, Ran, Mochi… But Kakucho?... Kakucho is too loyal for his own fucking good.

Blinded by rage, standing up you yell. “You’re Just As Fucked Up As The Rest Of Them,” After saying it is weird… your voice doesn’t sound like your voice, it is weak, and not as loud as you would have wanted to say it… Fuck... You messed up your vocal cords.

Looking at Kakucho in a brief second, he is taken aback. Your voice shocked him and yourself. Just wanting to leave and go into the bedroom.

However... As you turn you see the rest of the Bonten members, standing by the door, in pure shock. That gives you enough information, to know that they heard you.

Well, fuck….

A few moments of silence fall upon us until you finally dare to try to walk away. Only taking a few steps before a voice was heard. “Hold on Y/N, come over,” Great and that was Mikey…

You are immediately making your way infront of him and the group. “You talk to Kakucho, but not me,” he says voice filled with hurt. Should you dig myself deeper into this mess?

“I’m sorry, Mikey…” you weakly manage out, after yelling at Kakucho, you need to rest my vocal cords, your voice is hoarse, and it hurts so much the others can tell, to the point some flinch once they hear. But it doesn’t matter, you could be feeling the worst pain ever, and as long as you're alive and breathing they would be okay with that.

“So what? That is all you have to say? We heard you talk, give up your little tantrum, and talk to us, I knew you would break… longer than I anticipated but you still broke,” Ran says, wanting to hear you talk, after not hearing your voice for over a few years, judging the room they all want to hear it too.

Did this Bitch not just hear me talk? What else would he want me to say? Is he truly such a fucking sadist that he wants to hear me struggle to talk? you begin to think.

Well, in that case, you plan on saying something to him loud and clear.

“You know what? Fuck you Ran, I have been wanting to say that for so long now, you are such a manipulative shit, you really think I didn’t see through all your bullshit, how you think of yourself as a god… you think you are so great… you are just a sadist, who cheats, and contributes to nothing…. It is only because of your ‘respect’ which was beating up kids younger than you, were you feared, without beating up helpless kids, you ought to be nothing, you would still be at the bottom of Roppongi in jail, with all of the failures,” you say holding my throat, trying not to breathe hard.

“Calm down Y/N, you know it is just Ran being Ran,” You are not sure if Rindou is being sincere in saying this or saying this just to shut you up. At this point you don’t give a fuck, you're already pissed.

“You think you’re any better Rindou? the only reason people see you as a nice person is that everyone compares you to Ran. Since I can remember people have been blinded by Ran, all overlooking just how cruel, and cold-hearted you are. You are just a follower, doing whatever Ran tells you to do, following blindly behind him. To the point where all you will ever be… is your big brother’s shadow…” Your voice is getting softer and softer, Shit, you worry, just how much longer will you still be able to talk?

“Your voice is getting worse, stop talking Y/N,” Kokonoi says concerned.

“You wanna be next?” You ask “Because you-,” Just like that, you couldn’t even finish your sentence before starting a coughing fit. After catching your breath, and notice just how sore your throat is, feeling like the after-effect of overusing it, pained to the point where it hurts to breathe.

Seeing your vision start to blur, starting to tear up. You have no idea why… What is wrong with you? Is it the pain? Or are you just being emotional all of a sudden? Why do they all have to be here? Do they think you're weak now? What is wrong with everything? How did things end up like this?...

Feeling arms wrap around you. Freezing, but then recognizing it is Kakucho. Even when you curse at him, he is here comforting you. You can’t hate him but you can’t love him. All you can do is accept him, and that is exactly what you did, at that moment.

Breathing out a breath, you didn't realize that you were holding. Relaxing your shoulders, and body, turning into his chest, not being able to handle all of their cruel stares. No matter how hard you try, tears won't stop falling…You can just feel their eyes burning your back.

“What are you guys all staring at? You all are acting like children watching a movie, Y/N has never shown any emotion for over a year, and when they finally do, all you guys plan to do is watch. They are breaking down in Kakucho’s arms,” Akashi says, breaking the tension and silence.

Always count on Akashi to be an adult when situations become grim.

“We’ll all talk together on the couch…” Mikey says, hearing his footsteps go, and the others follow behind him, as they fade. You feel Kakucho gently push you, away from him.

“Ready to follow?” he whispers. Nodding your head yes, as you slowly walk to the coach, Everyone is sitting down, and Mikey motions you to sit between him and Akashi the only other two that can keep a calm mind, no matter what goes down.

At this point, you've stopped crying, but your nose and eyes were still red, and once you sat down all hell broke loose.

“I think that Y/N should get punished for talking to me like that,” “They are hurting enough, what they said was nothing, compared to what your victims say to you,” “And I kill them for it,” “Stop being such a big baby Ran, just man up,” “Oh I know you did not just tell me to ‘man up’, being the only one that doesn’t even get their hands dirty,” “Oh? Do you want your little allowance cut?” “I swear to God, Koko if you-”

“Enough,” Mikey says, everyone is still, no one dares disobey the leader after all.

Mikey then looks at Akashi signaling something, then Akashi looks at you. Confused you wait until he says.

“Now Y/N I know you're in pain, but what you said to Ran and Rindou was uncalled for, completely immature, and you knew that were their… weak points, you need to apologize to them,” Akashi says, careful of his words.

“I’m sorry… Rindou… Ran,” you say looking down, in a low tone, your voice still scratchy.

“What was that? It was hardly sincere and he could at least talk loud enough for me to understand,” Ran complains.

Seeing Akashi give you a look, you knowingly sigh. Looking up at Ran in the eyes, hatefully “I'm sorry… Ran” louder, hearing the anger and strain almost raspyness. Then turning to his brother, calming yourself, you softly say “Sorry,” being earnest.

Just as the older brother is about to say something, Akashi cuts him off saying “Ran,” in a warning tone. Ran ends up rolling his eyes, and he leans back more on the couch.

“Now Y/N…” You hear Mikey say, grabbing everyone's attention.

“Do you or Kakucho want to explain what happened today? Especially for you to lose your temper like that?” He asks intrigued about what happened, he has not normally shown this much emotion for quite some time, putting everyone more on edge.

Looking at Kakucho in a warning, begging way, for him not to tell them. Kokonoi, being the observant person he is notices. “Oh? It must be good to have you looking at Kakucho like that…” Right when Koko says that all the other's eyes are on you. Fuck…. Just great…. you think.

Looking down, ignoring their stares, waiting for Kakucho to say something.

“Today, Y/N went to the bathroom to grab their hairbrush… they were taking a bit longer than normal… so I went to see what the problem was… and when I looked in the room…” He pauses, feeling uncomfortable.

“Well hurry up what happened?” “It can’t be ‘that’ bad… can it?” “Just spit it out already,” “Kakucho…” Mikey says softly, not demanding, but reassuring, and manipulative… he can be gentle.. When he wants to…

Kakucho then takes out the pill bottle, tossing it to Sanzu only for it to be caught, by Akashi. “I found him about to take the rest of the pills in the bottle,” he finally says. Sanzu starts to pale, knowing he’s in trouble.

Everyone else, looks at Sanzu, like they're about to kill him… I wouldn’t be against that…

“The rest of these you say Kakucho? Sanzu…Just 5 at once would have killed them… Nevertheless the rest of this bottle… you were careless…" Akashi says looking at Sanzu, but then he continues.

"Almost getting Y/N killed… But then again... Who knew,” he says now turning to you.

”They would be so suicidal,”

(IDK HOW TO END THIS... PLZ LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS;))

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wisteria-lodge · 2 days ago

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hi hope you’re well 😊 i just wanted to talk about a drarry moment that i think isn’t discussed as much in the fandom - which is in DH when draco is pleading for his life with a death eater, harry saves him without hesitation as they pass and draco looks around “beaming, for his saviour” 🥹 who do you think draco was thinking would be his saviour?

Sure, let's close-read a Drarry snippet :D

“I’m Draco Malfoy, I’m Draco, I’m on your side!” Draco was on the upper landing, pleading with another masked Death Eater. Harry Stunned the Death Eater as they passed: Malfoy looked around, beaming, for his savior, and Ron punched him from under the Cloak. Malfoy fell backward on top of the Death Eater, his mouth bleeding, utterly bemused. “And that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” Ron yelled.

So first thing... Ron is definitely being a little uncharitable here.

The narrative voice (which you can easily interpret as Harry's internal monolog) is highlighting that Draco is in trouble - he's "pleading" (so, begging) with this anonymous death eater, and very much in need of a "savior." Draco often defaults to lying as a problem-solving solution: the faked arm injury in Book 3, bragging to sound more impressive in Book 1, telling the other Death Eaters he doesn't recognize Harry in Book 7. All of Book 6 is really one elaborate deception, Draco lying to Snape, telling Slughorn he was gatecrashing the party. Harry also lies to get out of trouble ALL the time, so I would be very surprised if he doesn't immediately clock "I’m Draco, I’m on your side!" as a lie.

(But Ron is much more straightforward, so it does make sense he'd take Draco's words at face value.)

I think the 'savior' Draco is looking for, the person he would respond to with uncomplicated "beaming" ... is probably one of his parents. Lucius and Narcissa are currently running around (without wands!) looking for him, so it kind of makes sense that Draco would also be running around looking for them. Especially since they end the book as such a tight unit, and in the films peace out before the battle is even over.

At this point, Draco trusts Narcissa (and maaaybe Lucius to a degree, but their relationship is a lot more strained.) I'm not sure who ELSE he trusts, or where else he would expect uncomplicated no-strings-attached help to be coming from. Myrtle?

But of course the obvious question is does he trust Harry. And I think... yes. Harry has just saved him from fiendfyre. In the film at least, Harry's just confirmed that he knew Draco was lying to protect him at Malfoy Manor. Harry is about to defeat Voldemort using Draco's wand. It feels "friendly" in his hand, and I just don't think that would be the case if Draco was still conflicted about Harry.

I also think that Draco does put together that Harry is the one who saves him from that unnamed Death Eater. Harry, Ron and Hermione are under the Invisibility Cloak, but they're also covered in dripping Snargaluff pod juice, so it's super obvious that there are multiple invisible people standing right there. Ron also says "that's the second time we’ve saved your life," and I think that if he'd been the one to save Draco, it'd been more of a "How many times are you going to need saving Malfoy?" or "It's your turn to rescue this git next, Hermione." He's drawing a parallel between the two different times HARRY has saved Draco's life.

That explains why Draco's reaction to this whole thing is "bemused." This is the last moment of Harry/Draco interaction we see in the main story, and he's *bemused.* Puzzled, baffled. If he didn't know who saved him, I would think we'd get him described as "confused," or "looking around wildly." If he thought Ron was one to save him, his expression would have been more annoyed or resigned. But it's Harry, and he has both a long history with Harry, and a lot of feelings ABOUT Harry, feelings that are currently in the process of shifting around. Yeah I BET he's puzzled, working out how he feels about Harry Potter saving his life (twice.)

#hp #close reading #drarry #draco malfoy #harry james potter #watsonian analysis

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writingsinashes · 2 days ago

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Law & Order: Sah Edition

“She looks sad. She looks angry. She looks different from everyone else I know—she cannot put on that happy face others wear when they know they are being watched. She doesn’t put on a face for me, which makes me trust her somehow.”

Updated rules for writing with this RP blog! Please like it when you've read them!

Rule 1: Multi-Fandom, Multi-Verse, Multi-Ship, and OC Friendly.

Please note that I am open to a wide range of fandoms, universes, ships, and original characters (OCs). However, for a smooth and engaging interaction, I need to feel that our muses are compatible. If it seems unlikely that our characters will connect meaningfully, I may not follow back. This isn't personal—sometimes muses just don't align. Additionally, if you are using a side-blog, kindly inform me so I can make sure to follow your RP blog directly. Thank you!

Rule 2: Post Formatting and Reply Ettiquite.

I strive to respond to threads in a timely manner, but please understand that muse can be unpredictable at times. If it's been about a week or so without a reply or update on a particular thread, feel free to reach out to me here or on Discord— I'm more than happy to hear from you! Regarding writing format, I tend to write longer replies, but please don’t feel pressured to match that length. As long as you provide a paragraph or two in return, that’s more than enough. When I post from my laptop or desktop, I might include banners, GIFs, and occasionally style the text, though I keep it simple overall. I don't mind how you choose to format your replies—whether using icons or not, or with or without formatting. I’m here to write with you, and I’m sure you have great aesthetics! Let’s just enjoy the process together.

Rule 3: I do not forget people on purpose.

I understand that it may appear as though I’m consistently replying to certain individuals, but I want to clarify that this is often due to personal connections or close affiliations with those writers. Sometimes, I may simply have more creative energy for one thread at a given time, while others are on pause. Please know that I do not intentionally ignore anyone. If you ever notice me engaging with a specific person and want to check in or ask how I’m doing, feel free to reach out! I’m always happy to chat. Thank you for your understanding. :)

Rule 4: Type of RP blog I run and who are welcome to intereact and how!

This is a mutually exclusive, multimuse, multiverse, multiship and crossover-friendly RP blog. And for the safety and comfort of all involved, I kindly request that all interactions be with individuals who are 21 or older. The mun behind this blog is 25+, so this is a necessary guideline for both the mun and muses. While anonymous asks are welcome for lighthearted scenarios and skits, I do require knowing who I’m writing with before engaging in any threads, whether through asks or posts. Please feel free to introduce yourself in whichever manner you feel most comfortable. Thank you for understanding!

Rule 5: Ask Memes.

Feel free to send as many asks as you'd like—I truly enjoy them! However, please keep in mind that it may take me some time to respond. I appreciate your patience! I do reserve the right to delete any asks that I deem inappropriate or if I simply feel I lack the inspiration to respond to them. For Ask Memes, they will be posted in their own separate threads and considered as thread starters for those specific characters. I view these memes as a great way to break the ice and make it easier to continue interactions! If you’re running a multimuse blog, please be sure to specify which muse you are writing as when sending asks or starter calls. It helps me to respond more accurately! If you're unsure, feel free to provide a couple of options, and I’ll do my best to choose or reply accordingly. If this isn’t specified, I may either disregard the ask or respond with a random muse. Thank you so much for your understanding, and I look forward to interacting with you! <3

Rule 6: Plotting and Thread Content.

I enjoy pre-plotting threads, so don’t be surprised if, when we first start discussing potential interactions, I suggest talking things through in detail. While I’m open to winging things as well, I do want to note that I’m not the best at writing starters, so I tend to ask my partner to initiate the first post! Please be mindful that I prefer not to be pressured about specific ships, plots, or ideas. If I express that I don’t feel something would work well, I kindly ask that you respect my decision and refrain from bringing it up repeatedly. Your understanding and cooperation are greatly appreciated!

Rule 7: Shipping Muses and Thread Content.

I’m a big fan of shipping and exploring different dynamics, but I believe that chemistry between characters is key. Please don’t take it personally if things don’t develop as we initially expected—sometimes, muses just don’t align the way we hope. I truly appreciate your understanding! I'm not just looking for romantic relationships but familial ones as well as friendships and platonic ones. However, I do not very often change a muse's sexual orientation, so if they identify as "Straight," then that's how I'm writing them, and so on and on.

Rule 8: Approaching different verser or crossovers.

I recently came across a plot idea that I thought was really creative and wanted to share. "An AU where our muses discover the ability to jump into any book they choose. They can explore different worlds, until one day, they land in a fandom where they get stuck. Now, they must navigate the story, avoid being noticed, and figure out how to fix things without meeting a grim fate." This concept is how I approach crossovers, so if you're ever interested in exploring something similar, that's the kind of framework I enjoy! It's a fun way to blend fandoms and create unique scenarios where our characters have to adapt to unfamiliar settings.

Rule 9: Sah's State of Mind.

I want to be transparent about my mental health, as it can sometimes affect my interactions here. I have been diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, bipolar disorder type 2, severe depression, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder. Despite my best efforts, these conditions can influence my actions, and at times, I may need to take a step back or become quieter for a few days. I never anticipated needing to outline this as a rule, but it's important for you to understand that these health challenges are part of who I am. If you're unfamiliar with borderline personality disorder or any of my other conditions, I encourage you to learn more about them to better understand my experience. I tend to become anxious and worried that I may have unknowingly offended someone, particularly if there’s a delay in communication, like not receiving a reply OOC (out of character), or feeling like I’ve been ignored or ghosted. If you’re someone who struggles with directly telling me if you're no longer interested in talking or writing with me, I kindly ask that you reconsider approaching me. I deeply value the OOC relationships I build with the wonderful muns behind the muses, and I invest a lot into those connections. Please know that I won’t apologize for caring about our interactions.

Rule 10: The Trigger Tagging Situation Here on this RP Blog.

If someone specifically requests that I tag something, I will make every effort to ensure it’s properly tagged. However, I do want to be transparent and say that, more often than not, I can be a bit forgetful when it comes to tagging. I apologize in advance for any oversight. I do my best to keep everyone’s rules in mind, but with the number of people I interact with and my own memory limitations, it’s not always feasible to remember every detail. Because of this, I offer flexibility with my own rules and would greatly appreciate it if the same understanding is extended to me. Please know that I never intend to violate anyone’s rules or cause discomfort, and I’m always open to communication if something needs to be addressed. Your understanding and patience mean a lot!

Rule 11: The content and warnings that come with this RP Blog.

I don’t have many specific triggers to list, but I’m generally open to exploring a wide range of themes. I make an effort to tag all darker threads accordingly, so if you’re interested in exploring content of that nature, please feel free to add me on Discord or DM me directly to discuss. However, please be aware that there may be taboo ships featured on this blog, such as those from Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon, and these themes may extend to other fandoms as well. Some content I may engage with includes, but is not limited to: gore, horror, smut, incest, assault, violence, blood, mental and physical disorders, pain, drugs, and alcohol. This list may expand over time as new ideas emerge. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you choose not to engage. Your comfort and boundaries are respected, and I won’t take offense if you decide to step away.

Rule 12: When FOLLOWING me or UNFOLLOWING me | When to Soft Block vs Hard Block.

We all know that Tumblr can be glitchy, and things like being unfollowed and refollowed can happen unexpectedly. If you've soft blocked me and I unknowingly re-follow you, I realize that may cause some discomfort for both of us. While I understand that there may be reasons behind this, I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I would prefer it if, in cases where you feel the need to soft block me, you simply hard block my RP blog instead. This way, we can avoid any confusion or awkwardness. Additionally, I regularly clean up my followers list, so if you notice I’ve unfollowed you and it seems random, it could be because I mistakenly thought we were no longer mutuals. If this happens, especially if you’re following me from a side blog (which I have no problem with at all!), please feel free to let me know. I’d really appreciate it, and it will help clear up any misunderstandings. Thank you!

#{Out Of Sah}#{The Sah update no one asked for}#{Updated Rules}#There is one in here that is very important #like it after you've read it plz

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