#cw: age gap

[fuctacles]

ST events tumblr community

<< fifteen | 😺 | seventeen >>

When Steph's body heat leaves his lap, Eddie can suddenly feel how unpleasant his underwear has became. He picks at the fabric around his thighs, inspecting damage, and is grateful that he hasn't through soaked to his sweatpants. Yet. 

"Do you need something to change into? You can take a shower, too," Steph offers, looking him over without shame while she's adjusting her hair. 

Eddie manages a glance in her direction. On one hand, he lives in the same building, but on another, he'd prefer to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

"I think Wayne would be suspicious if I took a shower here," he huffs after a quick calculation.

"Oh. Is he... not supposed to know?" she asks, frowning but not looking at him. Eddie frowns right back. 

"Uh, no. I just don't want to hear any more teasing from him. He's been very, uh... supportive of the idea."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, he's been pushing me to make a move from the start. Actually..." He hums, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Do you think he offered my help with the cats on purpose?" 

She lets out a surprised laugh. 

"Maybe. Like an evil mastermind!"

"And he's been planting seeds all along! Talking about you all the time!" 

Steph makes a phone sign with her fingers and lowers her voice. "Son, there's this nice lady in my complex, great hair, totally single. Anyway, how is school?"

They laugh at that, though the idea isn't completely implausible. 

"Well, I have the parent's blessing for once, I guess," she chuckles wistfully. "For now, at least."

"What, you think he'd change his mind?" Eddie asks, for a moment ignoring the mess around his dick to turn towards her. 

"A lot of people do." Steph shrugs, like it's not a huge deal. 

"You mean because you're trans?" Eddie's brows furrow further. "I don't think he cares. Well, he does, but in a protective way."

"He knows?" Her eyes go wide and she tenses up, so Eddie quickly puts a hand on her arm to placate her. 

"Or he has a strong suspicion! He's been very ominous about it, but if he's been to your place and saw the same photos I did, well..." He rubs his thumb over her elbow. "And you two talk a lot. Wayne might not share much himself, but he's a good listener. He's good at picking up stuff."

Steph breathes deeply. 

"And you think he's fine with that?" she looks for confirmation.

They might have not talked about it, but Eddie knows his uncle quite well, and the way he spoke of his favorite neighbor was always genuine and friendly. 

"Yes," he says with conviction. "His biggest worry seems to be how the world has been treating you." 

She doesn't say anything, just seeks out his hand as she turns away, hair falling over her eyes so he wouldn't see the emotions in them. 

"Your uncle is a treasure," she says, gripping his hand for comfort. He'd love to offer her a hug instead, but he'd prefer to do it a little more cleaned up. 

"Yeah, I got lucky with him," he agrees, squeezing her hand back. "Now, uh, sorry to kill the moment, but you've mentioned I could borrow something to wear? Like clean underwear, perhaps?" He smiles hopefully, batting his eyelashes at her. 

She shakes her head with a smile.

"Sure. Let's go." She pulls him up by their joined hands, and when she doesn't let go and guides him towards her room, his stomach swoops. It's been a while since a girl led him to her bedroom like that.

He's instructed to close his eyes as she rummages through the panty drawer, looking for something suitable. 

"I hope you don't mind the color. These are relatively new, since I only wear boxers on lazy or bad days."

Sensing she's in front of him now, Eddie opens his eyes and is presented with a light pink tartan fabric. He chuckles. 

"Pink is the new black, right?" he says as he takes the boxers. "Want to use the bathroom first?" he asks, since he's a gentleman and a guest in Steph's home.

She shakes her head. 

"I'm good, don't worry about it."

Eddie frowns.

"Are you sure? I can—"

"Eddie," she interrupts him and he immediately closes his mouth. Steph's looking to his left and her cheeks are tinged pink so he turns up his ears to maximum hearing. "I don't... come like that anymore. My body doesn't produce it anymore, sometimes I won't even get it fully hard. A lot of things are... different," she makes a face as she confesses. Again, like it's a bad thing. 

"Well, I'm excited to learn. Especially after today."

He wiggles his eyebrows as she looks at him again, and she huffs in amusement, pushing him out of the bedroom.  

"Go clean up, you dork."

Once his dick is clean and his boxers are all wet from washing them in the sink, Eddie inspects his ass. The mirror is big enough that if he steps back, he can see all the way down to his thighs. He turns this way and that, lifts his shirt up.

"I think I'm digging the pink!" he yells through the bathroom door, before pulling his sweats back on. After putting his underwear on the radiator to dry, he walks back out to join Steph on the couch. They still have beers to finish. 

"Can I see it?" she asks before he can sit back down. 

"Huh?"

"The boxers." Her eyes shine in the glow of the TV.

"Uh, yeah." Eddie doesn't know why he's suddenly feeling this shy, after they've just climaxed on each other's laps, humping like animals. He toys with the hem of his sweats, feeling the heavy weight of Steph's gaze on his hands, before he digs his thumbs in and slides them down, the elastic catching on his soft dick. 

"It does suit you."

When he looks at her, her hungry eyes are trained on the pink boxers and his exposed thighs. 

"Turn around."

Eddie does so without question, feeling only slightly awkward as the sweats slide down to his ankles. 

"Nice ass," she compliments, and he feels his cheeks flush. It's not something he hears often.

"You don't think it's flat an pathetic?" he asks half-jokingly.

She hums thoughtfully. 

"Hm, I don't know. Bend down for me? Pull your sweats back up."

Eddie's dick twitches pathetically even though it won't be getting back up anytime soon. He bends in half, feeling exposed like never before despite wearing underwear, and slowly slides his pants back up, covering the goods. As he turns back to face her, Steph reaches out to tug him closer, hands sliding from his waist to cup his ass. 

"I think you have a nice, round handful," she smiles up at him. "It looks better in these than the jeans."

"Thank you," he says, quiet and meek like he's not used to. Maybe she could take care of him too, maybe they could take care of each other. 

"Thank you. For letting me see it," she says, smile wide. "And touch it." Her fingers dip into the meat of his ass, making his hips sway forward. She pulls him onto her lap this time and slots their mouths together, making out in the dim living room as the TV plays on in the background, forgotten. 

That night, he leaves the place later than usual, walking down the stairs of the empty building feeling like he's living outside of the narrative. Everyone else is sleeping in their own beds, and he walks from one flat to another like he can't find his place in the world. He's renting one in Indianapolis, too.

Eddie suddenly feels smaller than he's felt in a long time. Tiny in the world full of people, minuscule in the distance between Hawkins and Indy. The life he thought he's grabbed on to, seems distant and surreal. Like this little town is a black hole of time and space that he's fallen into yet again after escaping it for college. 

When he walks into the empty apartment, Wayne is snoring behind the closed doors of his bedroom. Knowing that going to bed will only bring more weird feelings, Eddie lights a cigarette on the balcony and spends an hour inside a book, reading and exploring alien worlds until his eyelids are heavier than his thoughts. 

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16 @ellietheasexylibrarian

ko-fi | Steddie masterpost

[soleilapproves]

John Price never really understood your humor. But it was the same for most older people. Especially when it came to someone as detached from the internet as John. It was a good thing your boyfriend had you to keep him updated with whatever new ridiculous term or phrase was popular.

“I can’t hang out today–nature’s punishing me for not being pregnant.”

It started as a fleeting joke. Something you and your friends always said whenever it was that time of the month. It had been ingrained into your entire group’s vocabulary after years of use. Now, it was just a casual way of saying, ‘hey, I got my period.’

It was odd to him at first. Why would the trees care if you’re not pregnant? he asked with a confused face, prompting you to giggle and kiss his bearded cheek. Fifteen minutes later, the man was enlightened on why you were blaming nature–Mother Nature to be more specific. You expected him to forget about it afterwards (like he did with most slang), but what you didn’t expect was for him to take it seriously. Not in the way you thought at least.

You were expecting more care from him–tip-toeing when you were sleeping, not cooking meat while you felt nauseous, and buying ample sweets and unhealthy snacks for you to munch on while crying over silly romcoms.

But instead, you received more sensual touches and lingering stares at your lower abdomen. You’d often have to push him away from your sore and tender breasts. “You wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if you were pregnant, you know,” he’d often joke, making you choke or spit out whatever was in your mouth. He’d massage your back and take small breaks to palm himself as he imagined you requesting a massage because your belly had been feeling too heavy lately.

It was all too much. Too surprising. The two of you had never spoken about children, yet you felt like you had unlocked a different side of him. A side that was hidden away for your safety because now, the man was convinced that you needed to be with his child to satisfy Mother Nature.

“I don’t think we should disrespect Mother Nature like that. Don’t you agree, love?” he mumbled into your ear as he parted your legs with his big, rough hands. “I don’t wanna see you in pain. You’ve been punished enough.” He kisses your neck with fervent need–a deep and dark desire to fill you with his seed. You sluggishly try to push his shoulder to get him to stop leaning over you. “John–”

But the man’s strength prevents him from budging an inch. “Shh, none of that. You’ll take everything I give you,” he says as his cock nudges your entrance.

[gamesetart]

has anyone seen that old movie the crush? im thinking of something similar rn with patrick... (without all the going crazy and manipulation and the underage stuff)

your parents have a big house. a gorgeous country home, complete with a stable, for you horses, a back garden with a pool and a tennis court, and, of course, a guest house. a spacious little one-bedroom located literally within spitting distance from the main home.

and you - home for the summer, sophomore in college, headstrong, pretty, interesting, a sports medicine major - you were supposed to move in there. it's embarassing to be your age (a precocious twenty) and still living in your childhood bedroom, for godssake! but, at the last minute, your father tells you you can't. which is absurd: you've never been told 'no' in your life, why on earth should he start now?

well, after two weeks of complaining, whining, begging, bargaining, and straight-up threats, your answer arrives. arrives in the form of a single black suitcase and one heavy sports bag. arrives in the form of a tired, scraggly looking man parking his fucked-up car in your gorgeous gravel driveway, right next to your perfect, pristine white vintage mustang. it's insulting.

your guest house is occupied. by son of family friends, sort-of professional tennis player, patrick zweig. you hate him instantly. hate that because of him, you're confined to your stupid childhood bedroom, with your stupid baby-pink walls your mom won't let you change, your canopy bed with the gauzey curtains. you hate that your parents invite him in all the time. you hate that he drinks your coffee and eats your food. you hate that he found your contraband stash of cigarettes and weed, and you hate that you know he stole some, because you counted, and that you can't confront him about it in case he tells your parents.

and you hate how he's hot. hate that he plays tennis on your court, damp curls sticking to his face, sweat running down his tanned, toned arms, stupid shorts clinging to his thick, hairy thighs... you hate that he swims in your pool in nothing but his underwear. you hate that he has these bright blue eyes, almost green in certain lights, the pupils ringed with a hazelish, almost golden halo. and you despise how those eyes look at you, like he's going to fucking eat you.

not like he doesn't hate you, too. he hates how you parade around like you own the world. he hates how you are: too smart for your own good, too aware of it for everyone else's. he hates how you've obviously never been told no until the guest house. he hates that you're a know-it-all brat.

and he hates you (and himself, a little, but mostly you) for being so damn attractive. he hates that he'll come home, from a run, or a bad date, or something, and find you in a clean white tennis set - ralph lauren, or lacoste, or some other bougie brand mean less for atheltics and more for style - lazily serving to no one. he hates that you'll read by the pool, austen and shakespeare and poe, in your little bikinis, sucking on a lollipop, or, if your parents aren't home, smoking a cigarette. he hates when you get dressed up because your parents are throwing yet another party, hates you in your babydoll dresses and your sweet skirts and your sweetheart necklines.

like you don't know what you're doing to him.

the funny thing is, both of you are smart enough to see that the other is physically attracted to you, but you're both too proud to admit it goes both ways. so you strut around in tiny tennis skirts and bikinis. he swims in his underwear and comes in in nothing but a towel to steal from your fridge. waiting for the other to break, to snap, to trip up and fall. if patrick breaks first, you get to laugh and call him a dirty old perv for going after you - he's like, a decade older than you, for christssake! - and if you break first, patrick gets to bully you open on his cock, make you cry, finally bring you down a peg.

just a matter of time.

[ofmermaidstories]

speaking of old men, i have a age gap bakugou x reader idea up my sleeve that im never going to write bc it makes me too sad LMAOOOO. but sometimes i think about bakugou being grumpy and old…. having to contend with the reality that he is being replaced………… bakugou i love u in any form.

[slimypaws]

Twilight x Celestia. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, YOUR HONOUR.

[sp00nful0fsuga]

FeatherCrow i love you

[perelka-l]

Drayton doodles uwu mostly shippy lol

[fuctacles]

<< six | 😺 | eight >>

"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment." 

Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.

"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.

"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.

Over the couch that he fell asleep on.

He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.

"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"

Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.

"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone." 

"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly. 

Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out. 

"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.

"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg. 

"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight. 

"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.

"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."

"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand. 

Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.

"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles. 

"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments. 

"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins. 

"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully. 

"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises. 

"You better."

They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance. 

"Want some tea?"

"I guess I should go."

They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."

"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest. 

Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver. 

"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself. 

"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."

"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"

"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."

"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.

Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.

"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."

"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it." 

Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally. 

"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff. 

"He is?" Steph picks up curiously. 

"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."

"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.

"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next. 

"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."

"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions. 

"What nonsense is he telling about me?"

"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."

"Excuse me?"

Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers. 

"When was the last time you had your hair done?"

"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."

Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure. 

"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."

Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass. 

"But I already got a beer," he points out. 

She shakes her head. 

"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."

She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him. 

But he'd probably do anything she asked for. 

"Then, uh... Sure, I guess."

[rosesnink]

Sinful Crush

Author's Notes

Happy birthday, Caro!!! Getting to know you these past year has been an amazing experience, and I wanted to thank you properly for it, since you fueled my love for Bas! I hope this fic I've cooked for you can show you my gratitude towards you and how grateful I am for being your friend. For more years together, amiga mía! Gracias por aguantarme <3

Before reading the fic, please read the TWs!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

If you want to be tagged in my COP fics, let me know!!

Summary: Sebastyan can't help crushing on a woman he shouldn't be crushing on

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: One-sided crush, suggestive

Pairing: Vasili Thorne x F!OC (mentioned) Sebastyan Thorne x F!OC (one-sided) F!Trystan Thorne x Juliana Georgescu

Rating: PG-13

TW: Age gap, suggestive scene (it's a dream, but still) and guns. Reader's discretion is advised. If you don't like/feel comfortable with these themes, PLEASE stop reading and block me if necessary, but don't be a dick in my notes

Book: Crimes of Passion

Fifteen-year-old Sebastyan Thorne had noticed two things: how Juli had slowly started to warm up to Trystan, and how beautiful Vasili’s companion –although Emika swore they were dating—was.

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen: with thick, long brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and the sweetest face, with pink, plump lips that gave him heart flutters every time he looked at them. She was also smart; really smart. They talked about stuff Bas was yet to catch up. He had heard that she had a huge IQ, but was nevertheless something impressive, and Bas was rarely impressed.

He had royally messed up, looking like a fool when Vasili introduced her in the family brunch “Sebastyan! I’ve heard much about you. I’m Nerea Rose.”

���…Buuh? I mean, ahm, pleasure to meet Vasili’s, uhm, friend?”

She was so pretty, smelled like cherries and her hand was so warm, Sebastyan almost passed out, his head spinning. He could hear Emika and Patryk giggling, and Father was raising an eyebrow at this.

Nerea, the sweet angel she was, threw her head back and laughed “Aren’t you sweet! Vasili forgot to mention that, didn’t you?”

“Thought you’d like to see for yourself.”

Her ‘fiancé’ had made no attempt to get to know her or talk to her. Probably saw her as a broodmare to place his demon spawns into her. Eat shit, she thought, I am not giving birth to your hell spawns.

As she greeted the other siblings, Sebastyan shook his head, taking a generous swig of the cup in front of him. Which he discovered was not water, even if it looked like it. Even Emika looked pleased with her, and Emika loved to find flaws and throw shade at everyone.

The moment their parents retired, Juliana and Nerea were laughing and joking about something, and then, classic Patryk struck “Yo, girls! How bout a friendly competition?”

Nerea raised an intrigued eyebrow “What about?”

A malicious grin spread through “Shooting, since it’s like, an American thing.”

Nerea and Juliana shared a look, then she turned back and looked confused “Just because I’m American doesn’t mean I know how to shoot, but sure. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two.”

Bas looked at Vasili, who thought the same. Keep Nerea safe from Patryk’s shenanigans… and the old guns. Putting an arm around her, he whispered something into her ear, and she into his, which left him intrigued.

Patryk looked at him mischievously “Maybe you’ll learn something too, Bas!”

He glared at him “I’m a politician, not a fighter, Patryk, and it’s Sebastyan to you.”

Emika smirked “But not for Nerea?”

He blushed furiously, but thankfully, Juliana put him out of his misery “I suppose every competition has some rules, yes?”

He noted to himself to get Juli her favourite flowers for that save.

“The rules are simple. Whoever blows any part of the dummy, has to dare the loser to anything juicy!”

Nerea nodded to Juli “Well, time to put your money where your mouth is, Patryk.” Juli said, in a calm, but challenging tone. Whatever they were planning, Patryk would regret mocking Nerea, and he was looking forward to it.

Panic washed over Patryk. Then, for the sake of his followers, he strutted ‘confidently’ towards the shooting point and aimed rather badly. Bas was no expert, but even he knew his form was all wrong. And he was right, because Patryk missed. Miserably so. Trystan burst out laughing, Vasili grimaced and Bas hid a smile. Definitely deserved.

Each sibling got a round. Of course, Vasili and Trystan were frontrunners. But by the way Nerea purposefully missed her shot, something inside told him that she had something up her sleeve. Another round passed, and she got ‘decent’ shots. Emika and Patryk both mocked her, saying that she had disappointed her American friends by being a terrible shot. Sharing looks with Vasili and Juliana; she walked towards the point and picked the gun.

It was like lightning. She accurately blew the dummy’s head with three shots, and put his dangling arm out of its misery with a fourth! She then turned to Patryk, a winning smile on her face “My father and uncle worked in the police force, thus taught me how to shoot and defend myself. I have a bachelor’s degree, a master’s and on my way to get a PhD, which means I am not to be underestimated. Never again assume I can’t put these bullets in unpleasant places of your body your thick head has clearly never heard of.” She then shot at another faraway dummy’s head, denting it without even looking.

Kaspar and Emika roared of laughter, Patryk reddened of shame, and Trystan whooped as Nerea and Juliana hugged, then Vasili smiled proudly at her, holding her hands. Bas felt a bit jealous, and was quite turned on when he had seen the way she confidently destroyed two dummies.

He shook his head. That woman was clearly into Vasili, and was five years older than him! It’d be wrong, and he couldn’t do that to Vasili. He had always been a loner, and now had someone who saw him. Nerea, no matter how hot or charming, was off limits.

Sebastyan was working on his computer, reading speeches and strategies of Drakovia’s greatest politicians, when a sultry voice drew away his attention “Hola, guapo.”

He lifted his head to see none than Nerea Rose, in a gorgeous black-emerald lingerie that let him see very much forbidden traces of her. He gulped “W-What is going on?”

She laughed seductively, and Bas tried to look at her eyes, but the revealing lingerie was not helping. She crawled to him, letting him see a dangerous glimpse of her bosom “Why are you fighting what you feel for me, hm?”

“Y-you know why.”

He suddenly felt a chill, and saw that his shirt was unbuttoned. She giggled mischievously “Oops. You won’t be needing that anymore, because this is what you want.”

He was not the owner of his actions anymore. He could only give in to her seductions, kissing her as the last image of the dream was her straddling him, finally feeling for himself her warmth.

When he thought the dream could not escalate any longer, a light blinded him.

It was his mother, waking him up “Good morning, son! Rise and shine! Today’s the day. Mayhaps Vasili will confess that Nerea is his girlfriend! I can feel it, you know!”

Marguerite giggled “I definitely saw them being all gross in his bedroom. They’re together, or about to be.”

Just his luck. Another day in which he had a crush on a woman he could never have. Not as long as Trystan and Vasili wanted them.

[conkers-thecosy]

Hi there, Conkers!

Out of curiosity, what are some other ships you enjoy in the Tolkien fandom (other than your fondness for Bagginshield and Nwalin) ? Hobbit/LOTR/Silm, any work goes!

Well hi there!

Thanks for the question, and apologies it's taken me so long to respond! 💛

Hmmm... well, I'm very fond of Gimli/Legolas, and Frodo/Sam, but I'll be honest, there are very few pairings I can't find some love in my heart for, and the ones I'm not interested in either have a too-large age gap or are related to each other, and I'm not into that, personally.

That's the great thing about this fandom, I think! There's just so much scope for fandom, and an amazing mix of ideas and people. It's so much fun!

Thanks again for the question, this was interesting to think about!

[melkyt]

I dont write wlw that often but this scene always makes me tempted to explore this dynamic, its so tasty and exactly what i write, age-gap, dubcon lolol😅

[grayson-eli]

Halloween party fliers from the Johnny Science papers, c. late-90s. Scanned at NYU Special Collections.

I know, given the context in his papers, that Johnny Science created the flyers for the Jovian Gentlemen (which was a group he founded for matching 21+ men interested in middle aged to old men) and the flyer for the Lesbian and Gay Community Services Center Dance Committee (particularly interesting to me, as I had no knowledge he had ever worked with them.)

Less clear to me are the origins of famed lesbian party promoter Caroline Clone's Nightmare on 8th St or the Radical Faeries Xtravaganza. I believe he may have created the flyer for Clone's party due to the style but I scanned these quickly so I may be misremembering. I don't think he made the Radical Faeries Xtravaganza flyer.

[slimypaws]

Some Rainbow x Scootaloo Art because I felt like it. [And someone inspired me—]

[sp00nful0fsuga]

I have a weak spot for this ship and have for so many years.

[perelka-l]

There was a sort of draw your ship as this here and I had those two suggested to me so... Yeah... Yeah... He would. (Congrats on your catch, Drayster~)

[fuctacles]

someone (thank you) has paid for my bday cake before i could share the link, but if you want, you can pitch in for new headphones for me as a gift ofc no pressure, you being here is a gift enough <3

<< ten | 😺 | twelve >>

To say Eddie is nervous would be an understatement of the century. His soul is one bump in the road away from skipping out of his body, leaving him alone to deal with whatever is happening inside his brain. Which is a lot on a regular day, but today, all his synapses and wires and whatever the fuck are screaming at him, you kissed Steph oh my gods, this is real, this is happening, oh no, Wayne is gonna be so smug about this!!!

No party hook up or any of his short-term girlfriends has made him this nervous. Because no offense to them, but they were young and simple and easy to understand. Steph, he might get to some extent—trans woman rejected by her family, feeling alone despite having a group of devoted friends, all of them scattered through states—but what she wants from life is surely different from finishing college and going on a summer trip. Right?

"Would you want to do it again?" he asks, hands shifting on the wheel. It's a good place to start.

"Your hair?" She gives him a fleeting glance. "Of course, it's nice to work with."

Eddie purses his lips. 

"Kiss. I meant the kiss," he clarifies. "Well, and anything that... might come with it." He winces at his own wording.

Steph murmurs something that sounds like "oh god" under her breath.

"Listen..." She drums her fingers against the bag in her lap. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Anything that involved you has been a good idea so far," he counters lightly. When she turns to look at him, he gives her a soft smile.

She nods slowly. 

"Okay, and how do you imagine that? You fuck me and then we awkwardly pass each other on the stairs? How do I look Wayne in the eye?"

Eddie winces. In his ideal fantasy, Wayne doesn't know until the wedding invitations get send out. 

"Well, unless I do something mortally embarrassing, I can't imagine an outcome where I wouldn't want to at least stay friendly and talk to you." He finally turns into their parking lot and goes silent as he looks for an empty space. Once parked, he kills the engine and turns to properly look at Steph. "What are you really worried about?"

She sighs, and when she looks up, her eyes are big and open, striking him right into his heart. 

"So many things," she admits.

"Tell me one of them," Eddie prompts. 

Steph quickly opens her mouth, almost aggressively, but clamps it shut just as fast. Her thoughtful frown tells him she's looking for something different to share. 

"I don't want to be a conquest, a one night stand. I don't do that, I don't do hook ups, to be honest I haven't had—" she cuts herself off abruptly, and her cheeks turn pink. 

Eddie tries to push down the sympathy from showing on his face, but it's hard to do. In his perfect world, he'd give her all the orgasms she deserves and then some. 

"And I don't want to be someone you can fuck whenever you visit Hawkins," she adds abruptly, rushing it out of her mouth like another forbidden thought. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

"Do you think I'm so swarmed with opportunities in Indy that I can't pause my libido for a week?" he asks, almost amused by the idea.

"I don't know, Eddie!" She throws her hands up angrily. "I don't know you! And you don't know me."

"I know some of you," he insists. "I know your cats are Garfield, Dart, and Arwen. Your best friend is a lesbian named Robin, I know you're still friends with nerds you used to babysit, and that you like Star Wars. I know what kind of beer you buy, and that your couch is ridiculously soft. I know that you want to give your salon to Joyce and open a new one in Indy," he lists off. "And I'd like to know more." 

"No you don't."

Eddie holds himself back from throwing hands up in frustration as well. Maybe he didn't kiss her hard enough. 

"Well, you don't know me, so how would you know?" He never means to get irritated by her, but she's just so—ugh.

Steph presses her mouth into a thin line. 

"Let's just go in," she says, opening her door to leave the van.

Eddie curses under his breath, scrambling to gather his things and follow her. They don't talk, ruminating in their conversation (argument?), but she walks the stairs slowly, so his smoker lungs and barely used joints can keep up. It gives him hope that she's not really mad, and he could kiss her again in the near future. 

She stops on his floor, where they are meant to part.

"Do you want that conditioner?" she asks. 

For a second, his brain struggles to catch up, but he's nodding before it even clicks. Anything to keep her coming back. 

"Yeah, that would be great, thank you." He smiles, only slightly embarrassed by how out of breath he sounds. 

Steph nods, turning to the next flight of stairs, leading up towards her floor. 

"I'll call you when I find it. Thank you for today." And she smiles, finally, even if it's not as joyful as he'd like. 

"Thank you." He smiles more freely, fighting the instinct to nonchalantly lean against the handrail. It's not an ending of a date, after all. "And I was being serious, earlier. With—"

"I know," she interrupts him. "I know." She puts her feet on the first step, not looking at him. "I'll see you later."

"Will you think about it?" he asks before she can disappear, her pace much faster now that she doesn't have an Eddie-shaped ball chained to her ankle. Damn jock blood. 

Steph stops mid-way, turning to him with a slightly pitying smile that makes his insides churn. 

"Oh, Eddie," she sighs. "I think about it all the time."

For a while longer, he stays rooted to the spot, in the middle of his landing. Hopeful, turned on, but most of all, confused, listening to her steps fade out. 

When he finally turns back into their apartment, Wayne must sense something, because for once he doesn't bother him with questions and teasing remarks. Instead, he does something much, much worse, while he's pulling on the soft ends of Eddie's conditioned hair.

"You're going back next week, right?"

Because Eddie kind of forgot about that. That it's not some liminal time vacuum when he's just his uncle's kid again, driving through familiar streets, seeing faces that have known him since he was a young teen. He tends to do that, whenever visiting Wayne. Life in Indianapolis is great, but it's fast, loud and busy, so the contrast always make him feel like he's in a hazy dream. Like his life is on pause. 

Wayne is heartless in reminding him about the, so called, real life. Eddie sighs. 

"When is the appointment again? Wednesday?" He looks at the calendar on the fridge.

"Thursday," Wayne corrects him. "At 11." 

Eddie nods slowly, humming to himself. 

"We should stock up on the way back. So you don't have to strain your leg while I'm not here." He pats his uncle's knee, swiftly avoiding a kick with the cast after he does it. "How long until you can go back to work?"

"Two weeks, probably." Wayne shrugs. "Depends on what the doctor says. But I'm so ready to leave the house," he groans. "I'm bored out of my mind. Is this how you feel all the time?"

Eddie laughs. 

"Pretty much," he grins. "Should we grab some movies before I leave, too?"

"Please."

It's hours before the phone rings, and he's put it out of his mind, assuming Steph would want a break from him. But as soon as he hears it, he's up and walking towards the kitchen.

"Ed!" his uncle calls from the couch.

"On it!" he yells back before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, I found the conditioner. Do you want to come up or should I drop it on my way to work tomorrow?" Steph sounds normal, like nothing weird has happened between them. He's not sure is a good or bad sign for him. 

"I'll come up, no problem," he answers quickly. "Is right now okay?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing anything."

"Okay, see you in ten."

When he puts down the phone, he can hear his heart pounding in his chest. He turns to the mirror hanging in the dark corridor and fixes what he can see, any stray hair or weirdly shifted clothes. But upon further consideration, he goes to the bathroom, where he can check his face and teeth under better light.

"I'm going out," he informs his uncle as he slides on his shoes. 

Wayne shifts to look at him, eyebrows raised curiously.  

"To where?"

"Steph's, I need to pick something up. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, don't trip until then."

"Come closer so I can hit you with the crutch," Wayne glowers at him. "I'll handle a walk to the bathroom, you keep the lady some company." He waves him off, turning back to the TV. "Before she goes mad talking to her cats all the time."

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

"Well, in that case, I'll be back when I'm back." He grins. "Later! And goodnight, possibly. Maybe, I don't know." Eddie loses steam by the end of it, but his uncle believes in him. The kid always had a talent for being charming when he wanted to. 

He settles comfortably in his seat. 

"Goodnight, lover boy," he chuckles.

tagsies:

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@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

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