#d slur mention

[haunted-thing]

here are some various dyke flags I made since I’m finally more happy and comfortable with my identity now!

transmasculine dyke

transfeminine dyke

transneu dyke

non-binary dyke

my interpretation of boy/man dyke

[image id:

First row: The left flag has five equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are dark blue, bright blue, turquoise, light green, and pale green. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are dark blue, turquoise, and light green.

Second row: The left flag has five equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are pale yellow, light orange, pink, bright purple, and dark indigo. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are bright purple, pink, and light orange.

Third row: The left flag has five equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are bright indigo, dark indigo, dark purple, dark magenta, and magenta. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are dark magenta, dark indigo, and bright

indigo.

Fourth row: The left flag has five equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are dark grey, black, dark blue, indigo, and bright purple. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are dark blue, indigo, and bright purple.

Fifth row: The left flag has five equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are dark blue, blue, dull teal, turquoise, and light turquoise. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are dark blue, blue, and turquoise. End IDs.]

tagging: @accessmogai & @mogai-sunflowers !

[trans-wojak]

I swear to fucking god, do people even listen to themselves these days? Another stupid girl posting on Facebook that she’s supposedly “agender” but ain’t ever going to inform her parents about her precious gender identity because they won’t understand. That she will die without them ever knowing.

Do you know how privileged that is? Literally, your parents won’t even give a fuck. Why? Because you aren’t actually going to transition. Do you know what happens to ACTUAL transsexuals? We get kicked out of home, we get abused, our parents disown us. I was NOT put in conversion therapy and pushed back into the closet for fucking 9 years then made homeless just so some stupid girls can think “oh but I don’t feel like a girl, I’m fine with my sex tho” is on the same level as me.

My parents originally fucking were horrible to me, they put me in conversion therapy and you what that lead to? Me having such low self esteem that I believed being abused was normal, so normal that I got into a domestic violent relationship that lasted for 9 years. Conversion therapy actively encourages you to consider suicide as an option if you can’t live as your assigned sex. They break down your spirit, they basically try to convince you that you’re delusional. Leaving him meant I was left with NOTHING but not only that, I had already started testosterone and the changes were beginning to get too obvious for my dad to ignore. He literally made me homeless cause he refused to have me live with him until I could get my own place. Because now I wasn’t just looking like a dyke, I was now showing signs of true transsexuality.

Both my parents are better now, they have a lot of regret about treating me so poorly over my gender dysphoria - but they are not perfect. My mum will still run away and hide from people who knew me prior to my transition if I’m with her because she doesn’t want to defend me if they are nasty when they realise it’s [deadname] as a man now. My dad still uses she/her pronouns for me even though it makes people think he has dementia lol. He constantly thinks I’m going to kill myself because I will eventually regret my transition. He also thinks everyone can always tell that I’m trans even though I’m stealth in real life. He lets it slip that he thinks I will never find a partner, constantly tells my mum that he wishes I “just stayed as a lesbian butch woman**”. My mum thinks [deadname] and Mike are two different people, she thinks she lost a daughter, but gained a son even though I am the same person. She has said before that I killed her first daughter when we have arguments.

I am so sick of this non binary craze bullshit. Y’all don’t understand that transsexuals do not get the same benefits you do, you can hide being “trans.” You can put on your they/them pins at LGBTIBBQ meet ups but take them off to go back to your cis life. I cannot. My life is forever shaped by this bullshit, I am struggling so hard to change my name legally so EVERY TIME I do anything that requires that nonsense - people treat me like fucking shit. Cause they see a bloke in front of them but a legal female name, they know. Nurses are absolute trash to me if I ever go to the hospital because of my legal name. They use he/him until they see the paper work then do a condescending smile and use my deadname, she/her etc. Its rare that I have a decent nurse or doctor who ACTUALLY continues to treat me correctly.

Your non binary identity is based all on fucking sexist gender roles and without those, you wouldn’t have an identity. Mine is based on the fact my brain sex is male but my body was born female and I’m actively changing that to male.

We are not the same.

[trannypilledfaggotmaxing]

i love you boydykes i love u cis people who get misgendered for being gnc i love u men in dresses i love you trashy over the top queens i love you trans people who felt more comfortable expressing femininity and or masculinity after coming out after avoiding expressing it so long because it was assigned to what people perceived was your gender i love you faggots who light each other cigarettes with your own i love you flamers and butches i love you neo pronoun users i love you people who put glitter their facial hair and i love you cishet men  who enjoy dresses and make up I love you she/her men and he/him women i love you people whose concept of gender is more vast than the sky and deeper than the Ocean i love you older transgender people and transsexuals who dared boldly to age i love you Salmacian people i love you intersex people i love you people who identify as a binary gender in their day today but when given the chance elaborate and explain that it's more complicated than that I love you people who think the whole gender concept is unnecessary for themselves I love you people here perceive themselves as having a sense of gender that is inarticulable i love you all so much

[your-bigender-big-brother]

question for the bigender experience submission: how ok are you with our answers including reclaimed slurs ? there are two that are one of the best ways to describe my gender, but i can and Have worked around this when its not the space to do so

Reclaimed slurs are just fine if it's okay that I type them out! If someone is both a fag and d*ke, I'm okay with adding that to the zine (I think gay men like me can say the D-slur actually, based on historical queer accounts??)

But yeah, it's all good! - 💙💚

[radishleaf]

saw that one person's awesome art of their sona wearing a shirt that says "dysfunctional faggot" on it, and now i wanna get art of mine wearing one that says " dysfunctional dyke" lmaoo

[god-damnit-vinne]

me and some friends wrote fics together on google docs :D the green is me, the blue (that looks purple) is @blorboindulgence and the kaito reference color is @vexedmilky

i had a lot of fun writing these, there's a much longer fic in that same doc featuring transmasc shuichi on his period but that one will never see the light of day. it exists solely within google docs and maybe our discord server

[tiredistic]

would it be totally crazy to request janis being a brat and regina getting mad so she gets spanked for it….

"Lesson"

pairing: Regina x Janis

content warning(s): Smut, d slur, mentions of substance, description of bruising,

summary: Janis being a brat and Regina Dealing with her.

a/n: It wouldn't be crazy in the slightest, I actually enjoyed writing this. and uhm warning its a tad long. There's some Oc work in there for the sake of the plot. Hope you enjoy!

It was late on a Saturday night, the night was hot and the party made it hotter. Bodies rubbing together as the loud music bumped through the frat house. Cups swinging as people drunk and high mindlessly danced around.

Janis was only here because Regina was here, but Regina wasn't anywhere to be seen, she attempted to look for her with no success.

So she stayed in the corner, watching her cup closely.

After a few minutes, Janis took a turn to observe the crowd. A mix of people dancing, yelling, drinking, doing drugs, it was all very meh.

Then Janis spotted the blonde, she was all the way across the room. She was talking awfully close to that one chick, Hayden Brenner.

Hayden was totally a cool girl, she played sports and her hair was always perfect. She was so smart and pretty.. but that wasn't the point.

Regina was getting all close, obviously showing interest, nodding along to everything Hayden said. It was infuriating, the way Regina was touching her shoulder, letting her hand linger before moving it.

Janis kept her eyes on them, not even blinking as the bright party lights shone brightly.

It didn't take too long before Regina noticed Janis staring at her through the crowd.

Janis was hoping she'd come to her senses and stop the foolishness, but she smirked at her continuing her conversation.

That really got to her.

Janis threw her drink down, rushing to the bathroom to calm herself. She locked herself in the small room, staring at herself in the mirror, running her hands under the cold water.

Fuck Hayden, if Regina was going to play it this way, so was she.

Janis found herself on the dance floor, perfectly in Regina's range of view.

It didn't take for her to start feeling the music, she danced very lively, swinging her hips, her ass swaying seductively which attracted those nasty frat boys perfectly.

The frat boys weren't going to make Regina jealous, she needed to up her game, and she knew just who to do it with.

Under the disco ball, there danced Ricky Williams. Her poofy brown hair coming from her hat, her bright teeth shining off of the lights, and her head bumping to the music.

She was perfect, Regina disliked Ricky anyway.

Janis sauntered over to her, and instantly the two started dancing together.

"Janis fucking Imi'ike, long time no see." She laughed, looking the girl up and down. "It's been so long since you've been at my party."

"It's been so long since you hosted one." Janis countered, she made sure to look extra flirty smiling extra bright, getting extra close.

They chatted for a bit longer, catching up, enjoying their time.

Janis was having so much fun, that she forgot all about her plan- the plan that was working fantastically.

Regina was pissed off. Her playful attitude towards Hayden turned into cold jabs at her. She stared daggers at Janis, dancing with that dyke Ricky.

She hated Ricky. Which sounds weird being that she was at Ricky's party. Regina being Regina, she was only here for her own benefit.

Regina's eyes followed Janis, watching her as she grinded on Ricky, as they danced in sync, the bass bumping encouraging them further.

It made Regina's blood boil, her face all red. She squeezed her cup so hard that her drink spilled over.

"Uh oh," Hayden laughed, "look at that random freak dancing on Ricky Brenner." She mocked, noticing why Regina was upset.

"That's not a random freak, that's my freak!" Regina sneered, "Hayden, I'm going to fuck you up if you don't stop laughing."

"Crazy how you can't even keep a social failure to yourself."

Regina gave Hayden the finger before pushing through the crowd making her way towards Janis.

Ricky noticed Regina coming, and she raised her hands in surrender, backing off of Janis.

"Hey Regina, glad you could join us." Ricky laughed as they stood eye to eye.

"Shut up Ricky."

"Hey Baby! What's up?" Janis played dumb, she had to bite back a laugh looking at steam practically come from Regina's ears.

"Don't fucking babe me." Regina grabbed Janis's wrist, pulling her away from everyone (Mostly to get away from Ricky) and upstairs to a private bedroom.

"Just what the fuck was that!?" Regina yelled, tossing Janis into a room locking the door behind them.

"No need to be dramatic Regina" Janis coughed, stumbling back into the room.

The bedroom was small, a twin bed pushed towards the wall. The rug was soft, and the windows were cracked open.

"Dramatic? You were dancing on that son of a bitch Brenner!"

"Well maybe if you weren't sweet talking Hayden all night you could have had me to yourself.." Janis mumbled, looking at the blonde.

"Oh my gosh. That's what this is about?" She ran her hands through her hair, "You got some fucking nerve, I was merely being polite to Hayden, while you were whoring all over Ricky!"

"Oh so now we're jealous? Maybe if you were paying more attention to your own girlfriend we wouldn't be standing here."

"Don't put this on me."

"Or what?"

"You think I'm not going to punish you for that?" Regina sat on the bed, her eyes not leaving Janis once.

"I was hoping you would.."

"Come. lay down." Regina commanded, her attitude still cold.

Janis followed Regina to the bed laying on top of the girl. Regina then pulled Janis's pants down just enough for her ass to being full view.

Without any warning, her hand came down on it like a lightning bolt, it was fast and hard. And holy shit did it hurt.

Janis moaned at contact, her skin turning bright red, marking exactly where Regina's hand hit.

"Little slut. You like this huh?" Regina spanked Janis again, her hand staying on her ass a little longer than before. She liked how the girl whined and moaned under her simple touch.

Then again and again, each hit harder than the last. Janis's ass reddened, the skin getting hot under Regina's touch. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

Her mouth pleaded for mercy, while she pushed her ass back, silently begging for more.

"Such a little whore. You'd do this for Ricky?"

"No, just for you Regina.."

"You say that, then I remember that look you gave me when you danced with her." Regina scoffed, slapping Janis once again.

"Please Regina.. I only did it for you."

"I find that hard to believe."

Regina's hand came down again, earning a yelp from the girl.

Regina felt herself get aroused at the sight, Janis whining and moaning in her lap, held at her mercy.

"Please Regina, i'll never do it again." She begged, she looked up at Regina but she was met with a devilish smile on her face.

"I think you deserve a few more, don't you think so- oh wait it doesn't matter what you think." Regina laughed, as she smacked her ass again and again.

"please- it hurts." Janis's body started to tremble, her hands reached down to stop Regina's hand,but Regina grabbed it, holding it still at her back.

"Keep them there." Regina asserted, as her hand came down again, noticing how Janis kept getting wetter and wetter she decided a few more before stopping.

"Please Regina- i'll be good I promise just stop." Janis cried out.

Regina paused, she smiled leaning down to whisper in Janis's ear.

"Come."

"Fuckkkk!" Janis let out a long loud moan, her body shaking as she came. Her tears spilling as her mind dazed.

"Good girl."

Regina carefully pulled Janis's panties up followed by her pants, watching to make sure the bruise wasn't rubbed the wrong way.

She picked the girl up, a whine leaving the girl. Regina admired her work all over Janis's face, the blush all the way to the tears.

"Lets go back to my house, I can fix you up there alright?" Regina smiled, Janis nodded.

Regina made her way out the back, where her car was. She laid Janis down on her side, in the back so it wasn't so un-comfy.

When they got to Regina's house, Janis was already knocked out. Regina got them into the house and to her room, she cleaned Janis up and changed her clothes using some extra Janis had from her closet. An hour later they went to bed, tired from their busy night.

[haunted-thing]

[Image IDs: Two flags. The left one has seven equal stripes. The colors from top to bottom are bright magenta, light magenta, light pink, pastel pink, light purple, dark purple, and dark indigo. There is a column in the middle that, instead of the regular colors, has a gradient from black to white. It has two crossed magenta axes in the center. The left flag is black with three diagonal stripes going from the bottom left to top right and a white downwards-facing axe on the right side. The colors from top left to bottom right are bright magenta, dark purple, and pastel pink. End IDs.]

homoflexible dyke !

being homoflexible & a dyke!

requested by no one!

tags: @mogai-sunflowers & @accessmogai

[pluralquotebook]

i'm gonna. submit the quotes some of us have in simplyplural descriptions. context already removed!

"died in a category 5 brought a sword to a gun fight incident" - 👤, about 🥷

"i wouldn't saw off my feet over him" - 👤, about 🧥

"worlds most mentally sane lesbian" - 🔪, about Silver

"token unproblematic guy of [fictional group in which everyone was severely problematic]" - 🥷, about 👤

"weird dyke who chews on plastic" - 🔪, about 🥕

🐝💝

.

[schrijverr]

Interview with Eddie Munson about Recent Resurgence of Corroded Coffin and Appearance in A Collection of Queer Photography

Title speaks for itself. Interview with Eddie after the book is released, which caused a new interest in Corroded Coffin.

On AO3.

Ship: Steddie

Warnings: mentions of the AIDS crisis, mentions of homophobia, mentions of police violence, mentions of stopping with smoking, self identifying use of d-slur and f-slur

~~~~~~~~~

Today I go over to the house of Corroded Coffin front man Eddie Munson to talk to him about the renewed popularity of the band after Jonathan Byers published his work from 1986-1994. The book of photography is about growing up queer and the found family that Eddie also was a part of, giving insight into the private life of the group.

When I get to the address, I am greeted with the sight of a big house resting on a plot of land with a driveway that splits into two. Around the house is not a neat lawn like many other houses in the neighborhood have, instead it is full of wild flowers and grasses, a few trees and what looks to be a vegetable garden in the back. I have to check I have the right front door, before ringing the bell.

Soon Eddie Munson himself is opening the door and greeting me warmly and leading me to the living room I recognize from the end of the book.

Dressed in black sweatpants and a fraying Dio shirt, hair in a bun, he looks comfortable and a bit like a king in his castle as he sits down on one of the couches, gesturing me to take the other one. Though, not before giving me something to drink.

It’s afternoon, since he wanted the kids that he and his husband, Steve, are fostering to be out of the house, so they wouldn’t come under scrutiny. The two women he shares the house with, Robin and Rose, are of to work. It’s peaceful, but not quiet, metal music playing softly in the background.

I jump right in, asking him if he saw the recent success of the band coming. He laughs and shakes his head:

“No, man, not at all. We were all just hyped for Jon’s and Nance’s project to be taking off, you know. We knew some Corroded stuff was in there and that a few fans were excited about it, but we’re an old band, past our prime. And then that tweet about me on the phone to Stevie went viral and suddenly our numbers were going up and we were getting tagged in stuff. Some people made art, it’s really cool to see.”

He looks genuinely excited as he talks, loose grin on his face. I ask whether the fan interactions are different now than in the 90s.

“Totally, but not bad different. It’s a lot more connected today with social media and everything, which is really cool, since you get to know what people are thinking outside from a quick meet and greet or random encounter. Don’t get me wrong, I loved meeting fans back then, but this has its charm and we all get to hear from old fans now who didn’t have the money or ability to come see us back then. That’s definitely a bonus.”

Curious I ask: Have you noticed a difference between new fans and older fans?

“There is always generational differences. Trust me, I’m very glad that people have changed so much in how they think, but sometimes you’ll hear a kid say something and you’ve gotta turn your head in surprise, because it was unthinkable back then. But there are a lot of good kids out there. Mostly the difference is knowing lore. It’s hard to get to know things about a band that was big back then when you weren’t a part of it, but a lot of older fans are talking about it. It’s great to see that we built such a nice community out here.”

I tell him that a lot of people are wondering if the band is planning on releasing anything new now that they’re back in the spotlight, but Eddie shakes his head to that.

“No, no, sorry. I know people want us to, but we’re done. I still write music, even produce here and there. Jeff has his own record label and the other two are enjoying retirement. We get together to play for fun, but none of us want to do the tours and the press and the whole circus again. That shit is fun when you’re twenty something. We’re old now and I already missed enough time with my baby, I don’t have time for it, I don’t want to be away from home. Plus, we always got kids coming in and out, I’m gonna be there for them, because they need me more. It’s really sweet that people are enjoying our work, but done is done.”

He doesn’t want to comment on the kids, beyond that they’re great, since they haven’t ask to be anywhere close to public scrutiny by being in foster care. He says it sucks enough on its own and that he knows, he’s been in it.

So, I let the topic be and instead ask about Steve, who he mentioned. At the name, he lights up in a way that reminds me of romance novels.

“Steve is the best, he truly is. When we were big in the 90s, we had to hide, so I never could dedicate songs to him, tell the world how much I love him and say what songs are about him. It’s nice that I get to do that now and that people are noticing him with the book that came out. The most important person in my life.

Like, people underestimate how fundamental Steve has been in the success of Corroded Coffin. It wasn’t easy to do senior year for the fourth time, I nearly dropped out a thousand times, but Stevie kept me in school, which meant I got to have an okay job when we moved to Boston, so we could even live there as Robs studied, you know. And he kept working as Corroded Coffin tried to make it, he literally made sure I could follow my dreams and I have never been more thankful to him for that.

He was also our biggest fan all throughout. At the start he’d help us make merch and sell it when we played bars, but as we got bigger he couldn't come to our shows often anymore. He’s had a lot of knocks to the head, so too many loud noises are a no. I nearly gave the whole thing up a few times when we were on tour for months and I couldn't see him, but he always knew what to say to make me feel better and keep going.

Stevie has been my rock. He has done so much for him and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make him as happy as possible, because I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

The passionate rant is filled with love and it’s a little painful to cut him off, but we have limited time, so I move on to the book that launched him and the rest of the band back into the public eye. It is a view into his private life as well and I ask if that has caused any issues.

“I mean, you’re always going to have a few people who try to make it weird or think they know you now and have a say over you, but that is with everything, not just this book. Overall, it has been mostly positive, you know. I got to talk about things without having to make it a weird public announcement thing. It’s not like I want to give a press conference about the pride of back then and Nance does a way better job of talking about it and I feel like Jon’s photographs say a lot more than me talking about it.”

The photographs are very powerful at points, I have to agree, but I am still curious about what he thinks of the book and his life on display in a way it hasn’t been before. So, I ask if he has a favorite part. He laughs at that, a little sheepishly and jokes:

“That’s like forcing a parent to chose a kid, I think. They’ve done a great job in showing us in everything we did.”

Then he gets a little more serious as he says:

“I do appreciate them putting in my uncle Wayne. Nancy asked everyone what parts we wanted in the book and what parts we didn’t, I told her I’d love it if Wayne got a shout out and she did more than that. She worked with me to make those two pages, to make sure he was there properly.

Uncle Wayne did as much for me as Stevie did, you know. He was my rock and I wanted him to be remembered right. He never was a man of many words or anything, but he was always there. He took care of me and Steve when we got kicked out and he worked hard to put me through school and he made sure I felt normal. That it was okay to be a gay kid in Indiana and that I wasn’t going to die before reaching twenty-five. It might seem insane to think now, but that was just the way it was back then. If you were queer, you weren’t getting old. But Wayne did.”

He wipes away moisture in his eyes and I pretend not to see it. A grin is back on his face in no time and he lightens the mood by saying:

“Though I think I’m required to say my wedding is my favorite part. I love the real wedding we did in 2015, but that first fake one was special. It wasn’t big or anything, but everyone we cared about was there and it made us feel connected, like it was truly permanent. Like we could have that in a time where it seemed the world would rather see us gone. It felt like a powerful fuck you and I’ve always loved that.”

I smile at that, a powerful fuck you seems to be very fitting for the man in front of me. Even in casual clothes, he looks like he could fight you and win, yet also comfort you when you need it.

This has given me the opportunity to ask about one of the wedding photos that has intrigued me ever since reading the book. It is called “I Knew They Would Get Along” and is of the couple with Dustin, one of their friends, now professor at Stanford.

“Oh yeah, that’s a funny story,” Eddie tells me with delight. “Me and Stevie ran in very different circles back in school. Despite sharing a senior year, we never really talked until after. He babysat Dustin and the other twerps, I ran the DnD club they all joined when they got there. Dustin pestered us for months to just try and see if we would get along. We both refused. It wasn’t until spring break ‘86 that we actually talked and it was sparks from the start.”

Seeing how he talks about his husband it is almost impossible to imagine him being anything other than 100% infatuated, but he looks to be truthful.

With the mention of that spring break, I can’t help but ask after the allegations that he was proven to be innocent of and the injuries he sustained during it in the earthquake that hit the town after. He has been private about it in the past, so I know I’m pushing my luck.

Indeed he closes off and just says he doesn’t want to talk about it and his tone indicates that he means it and I will be cut short if I ask further. So, instead I ask about other parts of the book, namely Corroded Coffin’s start in Boston.

“Boston was great. It wasn’t Detroit, Cleveland or LA, but it was better than the small bar we used to play at in front of the local drunks that’s for sure. We already knew we were going to Boston in the 80s, most of the guys studied there for a bit, before dropping out. I knew Robs was hoping to get into a program there and where Robbie goes, Steve goes and where Steve goes, I go. If we wanted Corroded Coffin to continue, we’d go with them to whatever big city they ended up in.”

The book also showed to the close friendship between Eddie’s husband, Steve, and Robin Munson, a linguist. Even now, the rockstar shares a house with Steve’s practical other half and her wife, Rose. I ask him if that was ever hard or cause friction between them.

“No are you kidding?” Eddie practically laughs in my face, not out of malice, but out of disbelief. “I already knew the two were a package deal when I started dating Steve. Besides, Robin is a blast too. She’s fucking hilarious and has great taste in music. In fact, it has always been comforting to know I wasn’t leaving Stevie by himself when I was out touring. I mean, I was best man at their wedding, it was never a thing between us.”

I ask if it isn’t weird to not have the house alone, but share it with another couple.

“Nah, man. Like I said, I love Robs and Rose is amazing too. The two are family. I would let everyone of my family live with me as long as they want. They’re my people and I love having them around. It’s nice to have more people in the house, I wouldn’t know what to do if it was quiet and empty all the time. We often host DnD one shots or movie nights here, it’s great.”

The game is mentioned quite a bit in the book and is well known now, but they never spoke about playing it in their heyday and I ask whether they’ve gotten reactions to it with their new popularity.

“Yeah, it’s nice. A lot of people are excited that we seem to play, it’s cool to see how much more popular it has become and how many people find the same excitement in it as we do. Playing DnD was different back then. When we started it was in the height of the Satanic Panic and we were branded as freaks for it, so I guess that stuck with us. We didn’t want to loose cool points and reveal we played games on the tour bus, though our manager did tell a few people about it. I think Gar convinced a few paps we were obsessed with Ludo for a little bit. That was hilarious.”

At that I ask if there was a lot they had to hide that they don’t now. There is of course Eddie’s sexuality and that of Gareth, which Eddie comments on:

“Hiding is part of being a celebrity, if you don’t want people judging your every move or shunning you for inane shit then you have to keep some shit to yourself. It can also make you go off the rails to have nothing to yourself, but never talking about our sexuality was hard, you know.

For me it was something I wanted to share. I wanted to tell the world about my baby and how happy he made me, but I never could. I couldn’t tell them I didn’t sleep with that model and no, Robin wasn’t my secret wife. Or that I didn’t like the way girls would flirt with me, because I was happily taken and that I didn’t know what to do with the bras people threw at me or the panties they made me sign or how they’d offer themselves up for a one night stand.

Management would’ve killed me if I breathed a word of that and it was constricting at points. It’s what I hated the most about being famous, always having to be careful about being watched when I was with Steve outside. I already didn’t have every day with him and I couldn't even cling to him 24/7 without being scared.

I think it’s really cool how we have openly queer celebrities now. I know it seems silly to younger audiences, but that wasn’t a thing. Not really. I only came out in 2001 and it didn’t go over well with many, many people. The closest thing I got is all the songs I wrote about Steve that were either subtle or had switched pronouns.”

In response to that, I ask him if he has anything to say about what it was like being queer when he was young. The book shows a great deal, but I am curious what Eddie himself has to say about the experience.

“As a kid it was mostly scary. Like I said, Satanic Panic was happening, not to mention AIDS. It was terrifying. I count my blessings every day that I didn’t have to loose anyone close to me to it, but it was just horrible how the scene seemingly got smaller and smaller as more people dropped like flies. It just made me so frustrated and angry that the government wasn’t doing anything. A lot of people were mad.

I really love the photos Jon took back then. He has this way of capturing moments, people as they drop pretenses or show who they are. He has an eye for it and that makes his photography so powerful or intimate. They show that those prides were protests. We had to be proud of who we were and stand together, because it would all go to shit otherwise.

Community is so important. I have always found great solace in being surrounded by others like me. I think that you can see it in all my show clothes how much of my inspiration came from the leather scene I’m a part of. A lot of metal style has roots in the leather scene. People often don’t realize because it turned homophobic later on, but metal has always been very queer.”

This seems like the best moment to bring up the arrest photos. The book gives a little context about it, but I ask Eddie what happened anyway.

“Robs was being totally metal and part of the tits out dyke crew, they were the best, but definitely a risk. When she was at risk Steve decided to be a diversion to make sure she could get out. He figured her scholarship and future were more important than his job right now.

Nancy saw Steve getting arrested first and went to argue with the police, but they weren’t listening to her. Sexist pigs honestly. I threw my argument in as well, but I was just another crazy fag in leather with long hair that they didn’t like the look off. And I never go without a fight, I stopped running in 1986 and I haven’t looked back. In this country that means getting a few punches to the face, Nancy joined the fight, got hit too and arrested. At this point, I consider us lucky to have come out of that encounter alive.”

The story is humbling to me and I sit in silence for a second. Eddie seems to notice that I don’t know where to go from here, so he just grins:

“Don’t worry. Just don’t talk to cops and demand a lawyer, cooperate enough to be safe and memorize the phone number of someone you trust and don’t bring your own cell with you. I’m not likely to get arrested again and for it to go bad. Times have changed, different groups are now a target than me. I guess that makes me lucky, but it just all sucks. Tell your readers to keep voting and keep being vocal.”

I promise him I’ll put it in there and then stiltedly change the topic to ask about the addiction he kicked. Corroded Coffin spoke about it at the time that they were trying to quit smoking, but never went beyond that. The book shows a little bit more.

“Quitting is fucking hard. I haven’t smoked a cigarette in twenty-three years and I still sometimes think about it. But I don’t regret stopping for a second. My lungs will never be the same, but I saw uncle Wayne die a slow death to lung cancer, I don’t ever want to put my family through seeing me like that.

Like, if anyone out there smokes or vapes, cut that shit out. It’s not worth it, I promise. In the long run, it’s not going to make you happy and it can only be bad for you. Trust me, you don’t want to go through that. Find people who support your quitting and buckle in for months of hell.”

He looks very intense, but quickly shifts back into a charismatic face when he is done with his spiel. It’s wild how easily he moves between faces, while being totally genuine. Eddie Munson is a fluid and fascinating entity and I understand how he captured the interest of many when he first rose to stardom.

There is only enough time for one last question, so I ask him what is in the future for him right now. It gets me a big smile as Eddie answers:

“Right now, I’m going to wave you goodbye in a few minutes, then wake Stevie up from his nap. We’ve been re-reading the Lord of the Rings together, so we’ll cozy up on the couch. Then, before the kids get here, we’ll make them some snacks, listen to how their days have been. If needed I’ll try to help them with homework, even though I’m useless at it. Robs and Rose will be home soon after, we’ll make dinner together, I’m sure Robin will complain about her coworker again and then tonight I am going to call the little shits. It’s Tuesdays, we always try to call on Tuesday.

I’m living a slow domestic life, man, and I am content. In my future are hopefully many more slow days.”

I thank him for his time and shake his hand. He gets up and shakes mine, thanking me in turn for not minding to come out here and tells me I was a pleasure to have over. Then he does as promised and waves me goodbye.

As I walk over the driveway, I mull over the conversation we’ve just had. Eddie Munson is not what I expected him to be like, but in a good way. I am very curious to see where his newfound visibility in the public eye will lead. Something tells me, we haven’t seen the last of this rockstar, even in his newfound domesticity.

~~

A/N:

This whole work is finding a balance between Eddie being a supportive friend and trying not to sound too egotistical/arrogant about my own work lmao (and like shoving my own opinions down everyone’s throat, sorry xp)

[angel-archivist]

people with the silliest and coolest usernames follow me and I’m kicking my little legs giggling like: target audience reached 🥰🥺✌️

[king-malloy]

There's so much debate about who can use what slur, but in my mind if a slur has been used against you, you can use it. Like I've been called some slurs and I use them freely, I earned those slurs dammit.

[butchcockiness2]

start eroticizing doms who use wheelchairs immediately. a dom praising the puppygirl humping her soft leaky cock on their shin as she sucks them off when they're on their chair, a butch ordering their sub to pick them up/assist them off the wheelchair and help them into bed, a femme in a wheelchair commanding their sub to clean her steel-toed boots, a dom leaning back in his chair rubbing his tdick and smirking as he presses the button controlling a fuck machine pounding into his sub, a dyke nude on their chair spreading their legs to show off their hole to their needy sub and making them beg to be allowed to top them, there are so many ways that including wheelchairs themselves in sex can be hot and empowering for disabled doms/switches. and that's not even mentioning all the other types of domming wheelchair users can do. being physically disabled does not automatically make someone a sub or a bottom and domming and topping are not all about physical strength. fellow disabled doms you're hot as fuck

if you're ableist on this post you're getting blocked. if ur not sure if ur tag or comment will be weird, don't make it. (being horny about this isn't weird tho!! please do that, that's the goal!!) blogs with ANY d-trans kink DNI

[felixknow]

✩｡°⋆ C. Warming Big D. B. Chan ⋆｡°✩

y/n + “ you” pronoun; “cunt” but no specific anatomy mention for y/n though it leans afab bc of the mention of being "wet" though that could be implied self-prep!!!!; i tried to make chan’s partner gender ambiguous (: slight bratty reader, no prep by choice, established relationship

18+ ONLY, I do not write for kids, do not interact w my acc in any way if you're not an adult.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but you do.

It had been a long day of work after an even longer week. Normally it would have been fine for you to come home and crash, but when it’s the only day Chan has had off in two weeks, it sucks.

Not that he minds, though. Really, he doesn’t. Seeing your cheek cutely squished into the arm of the couch, and hearing your soft breaths and little noises while you sleep makes him happy. 

It’s just… he wishes you were awake to help him out.

It’s been days since you’ve seen each other, and while you’ve had plenty of phone calls and face times, but to have you physically… 

Chan sucks in a breath and sinks lower in the couch, spreading his legs to try to avoid his cock getting much friction between his legs. It’s hard-- painfully so-- but he can’t make himself wake you up. You’d told him once that it’s a good sign that you both get sleepy when you’re together, it means you’re comfortable and safe together. And you deserve the sleep after having such a tough week, and you’re so deep in your nap and--

“Ahh,” he hisses, bunching his fists up on his thighs. Fuck, the look of your mouth hanging open, your cute lips… if he could just be a little more bold, you probably wouldn’t mind if he woke you up…

No, he can’t. You need the rest, clearly.

Fuck, but now that he’s spread his legs apart, your feet are pressed to the side of his thigh, and even that innocent touch feels like it’s setting him on fire.

Fuck, he thinks. I’ve gotta calm down or I’ve gotta move.

So he tries to move, and he tries to be careful but you suck in a deep breath when he tilts away from you, and when he looks over, your sleepy eyes are open and peering over at him.

“How long have I been asleep?” Your voice is so god damn precious, all sleepy and pouty and soft. Fuck.

“Uhhh… Half an hour? I don’t-- I’m not sure actually, I--”

“Channie?”

Oh shit. Of course your eyes caught the tent in his pants, he wasn't even trying to hide it. Somehow he feels embarrassed about it even though you’ve seen it plenty of times, but for you to wake up after being so vulnerable with him sitting right there like this--

“Do you need some help?”

He doesn’t have the willpower to say no.

“I was gonna let you sleep, baby. I wasn’t trying to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, sitting up slightly and turning so your back is against the arm of the couch. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and stretch your tense shoulders and neck.

“You can sleep. Why don’t you get some more rest? I’ll be okay.”

“No,” you whine, “I want you.” You reach out for him, and yeah, there’s no fucking way he can say no now.

“Okay,” he says, scooting toward you. He groans softly at the feeling of his boxers and pants shifting against his aching crotch, and you have the nerve to giggle at him.

“You think it’s funny?” he asks playfully, reaching up to pinch your cheek. “You’ve been all cozy and sleepy and I’m so hard it hurts, baby.”

“Let me help you then,” you coo, sliding your hands down his chest. Your voice drops and you all but purr your next words. “I wanna cockwarm you.”

“Mm, I’d love if you did.” He rests his hands on your knees, fingers moving back in forth in a gentle scratch. “D’you wanna go to my room?”

You shake your head.

“Want you now, right here.”

“But what if Jeongin comes home, baby?”

“Don’t care,” you mutter, words slurring from a mix of remaining drowsiness and desire. You reach out and pull him in by his biceps until he relents and his hands latch onto your upper thighs, his thumbs brushing ever so gently against the seam of your pants. Your legs part, and his hands drift higher, blatantly teasing over your crotch.

“Mm… If you’re sure.” His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in, head tilted, eyes heavily lidded. His full lips brush yours, just barely. Not enough.

Your arms wrap around him, one hand sinking into his soft hair, the other pressed flat against his broad shoulder. Once again your actions lead him further, pulling him in, entranced. His kiss is heavy against your lips but soft to the touch. You kiss him back lazily, savoring every touch he gives you. His lips on yours, his hands starting to work you free of your pants.

You help then, pulling them and your underwear down in one movement, leaving it behind your knees. Sinking lower into the couch, you present yourself to him this way.

“Put it in.”

“Baby,” he chuckles, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. “You need to be stretched first. Let me eat you out, yeah?”

“No.” You shake your head and frown at him. “I want it. Put it in, Channie. Please.”

“Y/N,” he says in warning, but you huff and reach down, shoving at his hands to make him hurry up.

“I want to feel you. I like it tight sometimes. Don’t you?”

“Oh, baby,” he sighs-- or is it another wanting hiss?-- leaning in close once more. “It’s always tight. So fucking tight and hot for me, aren’t you?” His breath fans across your face, and you give a small mewl of interest and try to catch his lips with yours.

“You need to let me stretch you,” he whispers so close that your lips brush together.

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No,” you whine. “I want you to work me open on your cock. Don’t tell me no, Channie. I want it so bad.”

“So bad, huh?” He fidgets a little, and when you hear the quiet rustling of fabric, you know you’ve got him. “How ‘m I gonna tell if you’re wet if you don’t want me to finger you first?”

“Don’t care.”

He laughs softly in your face and drops his head to your shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re being a bit of a brat today, huh? ‘Don’t tell me no.’ ‘Don’t care.’ What’s gotten into you?” You’re slightly distracted by the wet trace of his tongue against the side of your throat, but you manage an answer.

“I’m tired and I want you inside me before I start screaming.”

“Screaming?” he laughs again. “I can make you scream, baby. But that’s not what you mean. Are you needy? Want me that bad?”

“Need you, Channine,” you whine, squirming, trying to get your cunt closer to him. Your cheeks touch his thighs, and you can’t help the twitch of desire you get from knowing his cock is so, so close. “Stop teasing me and let me hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Cockwarm you!” You snap with no venom.

“Okay, okay!” He laughs again against your neck. “Don’t get worked up, baby, I’m gonna give it to you.” He peppers kisses up your jaw as you blindly reach for his dick. When your fingers nearly grasp it but fail to get purchase, he moans with a breathy ahhh.

“Fuck, c’mere.” Chan takes your hand and spits into it, then guides your hand in place. You wrap your fingers around his thick shaft and rub his spit upward, smearing it on his head as much as possible.

“Ahh, your hands are so nice.”

“Mm?” You tug slightly, pointing him toward your cunt, and he jolts and groans and finally, finally, finally gives you what you want.

His fat tip prods at your hole, dipping in just barely, pulling back, pushing a tiniest bit further to test how far he can realistically get with just the slick of his spit to start. But once he’s gotten past the widest point of his head, your warm, wet cunt flutters around him, he has to fight back every urge he has to bury himself completely.

“Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. “You’re so wet, huh? You like the idea of cockwarming me that bad?”

“Yes.” You nod frantically and try to push down onto him, but you’re pinned between the armrest and Chan and fuuuck is that a good place to be. “More, more, please. Just do it, slide in until I tell you to stop.” 

You expect him to play the concerned boyfriend and ask if you’re sure, but it seems he’s finally thinking with his other head.

“Yeah, fuck.” He nestles one knee between you and the back of the couch, and the other leg hangs off the edge of the couch to give him the leverage to move as he plunges deeper. As deep as he is in lust, he keeps a careful ear trained on the sounds you make. The whimpers, the gasps, the way your breath catches in your throat.

“Hold on,” you say with your face scrunched up and a hand pressed to his chest. He takes your hand in one of his, raises it to his face and kisses your palm.

“You’re so good to me,” he mutters. “You take it so well.”

You breathe through the pinching pain, and as it subsides you grab for Chan’s sides, balling your fists in his t-shirt.

“It’s good.” Your mouth mushes the words together and you have to try again so he can hear you properly. “It’s good. I’m good. Keep going.”

“More?” he asks, but without waiting for a response he hovers over you with his lips to your forehead, and you feel that uncomfortable, nagging pinch of there not being enough god damn room.

“You’re so fucking big,” you dry sob, and he stops again.

“I thought you could take it, huh? You’re the one who said no. You said you wanted it tight.”

“I do, I do.” Your arms latch around him, not leaving any room for him to pull away. “I want it.”

“Just a little more then, okay? Then we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

You nod and close your eyes tight.

Breathe in. Relax, relax, relax.

Out.

In. Relax, relax.

Out.

“You’re so good to me,” he says again. You know he’s finally done by the way he nuzzles into your neck and sighs contentedly. “D’you wanna lay down?”

“Not yet,” you mutter. “Like feeling surrounded by you.”

“Mmkay.” He sounds tired now, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Did I mention I love you?”

“You love cockwarming.”

“Mmm… says the one who wanted to do it so bad.”

[osachiyo]

✦ BAD TIMING? ✦

⟣ ──┈ · · · + including : dazai, chuuya, fukuzawa, fyodor x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + c/w : nsfw content (mdni), teasing, petnames, degradation, rough sex, prone bone, cowgirl, mating press, nipple play, cursing, cockwarming, mentions of nikolai + non consensual vouyer in fyodor's & more

⟣ ──┈ · · · + a/n : i wrote this with my pussy.

synopsis. . . you're getting your guts rearranged when− 'riiing!' the annoying sound of his phone ringing caught you both off guard, snapping you out of your dazed state as you both paused your nightly rendezvous. what's even more surprising to you is when he reaches over to grab the tiny device, answering the call− ugh, seriously?

.001 — Dazai

You whined at feeling Dazai's hips slow down, now completely flush against your ass, as he picks up the phone. "What could kunikida-kun possibly need from me, at this hour?" He muttered to himself, voice breathy and warm against the shell of your ear. Fuck, it was kunikida?

"Hello~ ku-ni-ki-da-kuunnnnn?" Your co-worker said in an annoyingly sing-songy voice, making the man in the other end of the line grumble in frustration. They began talking about some..mission? Anyway, it had been around 20 minutes since they've started talking? You couldn't exactly tell− or cared, honestly. The only thing in your fucked out mind was for dazai to close the damn phone and just fuck you already!

You showed your frustrations by huffing and angrily kicking your legs− turning your head to look back at dazai with a glare. He only smirked in response, shrugging before turning his attention back to the call.

You had no idea that dazai was aching to move right now, the feeling of your warm cunt pulsating around him was almost too much to bear. The way sweat gathered at the dip of your back, the way you arched for him− shit.

It had been a few more moments, you were so close to whine out complaints when dazai's hips started moving again, cock easily brushing against your sweet spot. You could still hear his voice from behind you.. he− he wasn't done with the call?!

You were about to ask him what the hell he was planning now− when long, slim fingers entangled themselves in your already messy hair− shoving your head down against the mattress to shut you up as he kept his pace, voice straining a little while he contuined his "very important" conversation with your other co-worker.

Lewd "pap! pap! pap!" noises of dazai's balls hitting your ass filled the enclosed room as you tried your best not to let any moans slip out− god, if he found out− "oi dazai, what're the weird noises coming from your side?"

Fuck.

"Oh uh− nothing, nothing at all, kunikida-kun," he breathed, free hand now coiling around your waist to rub at your neglected clit− making your back arch even more as you gasped out loudly.

"What the− are you sure? You better not be scheming anything bad right now, idiot."

"Of course not! mmh− so tight−!" he whispered the last bit, large hand now cluntching the flip phone in a vice grip as he watched his cock disappear inside of your slick folds− a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock.

"Huh? what's so tight? Dazai−"

That was the last thing you heard from kunikida before dazai's poor phone was thrown somewhere on the bed, the hand coiled in your hair now dragging you up− arching your back even more for him as he muttered soft curses into your ear.

You let out a pained mewl at your hair being pulled, desperate hands scrambling to claw and tug at the sheets as your back was flush against dazai's chest. "Ah− shiit−!" your eyes rolled back as the thumb circling your tiny clit sped up, the bed creaking loudly with each thrust of dazai's narrow hips against your ass.

"Yeah? you gonna cum, 'donna?" Dazai mocked, breath hot against your neck as he moaned lewdly at the way your pussy gushed around him− spraying the sheets with clear fluid. Dazai only groaned in response, "oh shit, fuuuck!− g'nna cum inside you, yeah? y' wan' that?" He slurred, you didn't get to answer before blunt nails meanly dug into your hips as he stilled− balls tightening as spurts of white filled your cunt before he fell on top of you.

You two laid there for a few moments, his cock slowly softening inside you− chest heaving as he finally got off, hissing from the loss of warmth. Dazai pressed a gentle kiss on your temple before walking off, most likely to grab a wet rag to clean you up. You got up with a sigh, running a hand through your messy hair when your eyes land on dazai's phone− it wasn't too far away from you.

You crawled closer to it, taking it in your hands when it lit up− "call ended now."

.002 — Chuuya

You were happily bouncing on your boyfriend's dick when the annoying ringtone of his phone went off. He sighed, lifting his head from the sofa as he reached over to grab the device, brows furrowing at the contact name.

You were sitting idly on his lap now, still impaled on his cock. "Who is it?" You panted, out of breath as you tried not to clench around the ginger's fat dick.

"It's.. boss. be quiet f'me, okay doll?" His voice was soft, but you know he meant it as a command.

You nodded innocently, urging him to answer the phone call. and he did, the way he immediately put on a professional voice sort of baffled you but hey, he was a mafia executive.

But the moment he put the phone next to his ear, you clenched around him tight— making him almost double over with a gasp as he gripped your hip for stability.

"Argh!— I mean- y-yes, boss!" He stuttered, face flushing as he grit his teeth, glaring at you as his fingertips dug into your plush hip, veins appearing at his temple as he mouthed to you to "behave."

Like hell you'd listen and torture yourself by cockwarming him. You only grinned mischievously before lifting your hips up and slamming down on his cock, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried his best not to moan out— he couldn't. Especially not with Mori on the line.

You kept pleasuring yourself on his cock without a care, even going as far as putting a show for him— your hands reaching to play with your tits as you softly moaned out his name, reaching to grab his hand but he only smacked it away, cock dripping with need as he tried his best to keep things professional.

"Chuuya-kun, everything alright on your side? I keep hearing these..noises."

The man in question knew he was fucked— he knew Mori already figured everything out, "uh— y-yeah, boss. I'm fine— fuck—!" Panting out the last part, Chuuya gripped his phone so tight that you worried it would shatter.

"Uh-huh.. Anyway, you had better call me back once you're finished with your.... current predicament. Have fun."

And with that, the Port Mafia boss ended the call, making Chuuya groan in annoyance before chucking the small device somewhere— "what the hell was that?" He growled, hand coming up to wrap around your throat as he forced you to stop your movements, cock nestled deep inside of you once again as your hips stilled. You whined from the loss of friction, the sound only making your lover's right eye twitch in annoyance— "such a poor, needy slut, ain't ya?" He held you down firmly before thrusting up, fat cock nudging against your sweet spot as you threw your head back.

"Ooh, f-fuck— my slutty fuckin' girl can't even stand a few minutes without cock, huh?" He stuttered, other hand reaching up to land a gentle but firm slap on your face. It didn't sting much, but was enough to move your head to the other side. You only whimpered in response, clenching around him even more as his thrusts sped up— growls and groans of pleasure escaping his own lips as he suddenly parted your lips with his thumb before shoving two gloved fingers down your throat— your eyes stinging with tears as the digits hit the back of your throat, tits bouncing up and down as he practically manhandled you like a ragdoll— settling you on your hands and knees without even pulling out fully.

"Argh- fuck—!" He moaned, burying his face into the dip of your shoulder, landing soft kisses on the smooth skin. "Ch-chuuya— s'good, feels s'good—" you slurred, eyes rolling back as one hand found your breasts— the soft flesh jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips as he basically slapped them around, harshly pinching your nipple as his other hand found your clit— rubbing quick and fast circles on the delicate bud— making you clamp around his cock once more before gushing all over his cock and the expensive leather couch. Your juices ran down his balls to his thighs— the force of your orgasm making you limp against him. You'd probably fall face first onto the couch if not for Chuuya's vice grip on you. Whimpers and borderline pornographic moans left his swollen lips— before biting down hard on your shoulder, spurts of cum flooding your insides as you laid flaccid in his hold— a drooling, shivering mess.

Chuuya fell on top of you, the both of you laying in each other's warmth when—

"Riiiing!"

.003 — Fukuzawa

A pout graced your pretty lips when your husband reached for his phone— picking the tiny device up as he drew soothing circles on your hip, motioning for you to be quiet.

You tried your best to be quiet as he took the phone call, you really did! But the way his cock was nestled so deep inside you and the way you could practically feel him throb inside of your gooey walls— you really didn't wanna bother him or interrupt his phone call but... you couldn't help but whine softly, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, clenching down on the older man's impossibly hard cock. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when his eyes finally focused on you, underneath him— little pants and huffs of his name rolling off your tongue as you played with yourself. Your other hand was playing with your nipples, softly tugging on them as you bit your bottom lip— which was already swollen. Your eyes were glossed over, hips dying to move on their own.

His jaw was clenched— free hand coming down to lift your legs and put them on his shoulder before he started thrusting inside of you with more vigour than before. It was like he was in a trance— the way your pussy fluttered around his pulsating cock, and the way his tip kissed your cervix with each thrust had you both panting. Your head spun with pleasure as he reaches down to press at your tummy— feeling his bulge. Fuck, he was huge.

The phonecall still went on, of course— but you know all Fukuzawa could think about was you, and the way your pretty cunt swallowed his cock. The noises leaving his mouth told you exactly what you needed to know— the slight stutter in his voice, usually gentle tone now gruff and slightly higher in pitch as he tried his best not to blow his load right then and there.

Not like you were any better either— hair disheveled, sweat dripping off your body as tears stinged at your eyes from the sheer size of this man— it didn't take long for you to cream and gush all over his cock— some of it even spraying on his abdomen. He saw the way your glossy eyes rolled back, your jaw slacked open as your high hit you like a truck.

To hell with the phonecall — he thought.

He cut off whoever was on the other line with a quick but curt, "I'm a little busy— I'll call you later", not even letting the other person respond before ending the call and placing the phone away— all his attention back was on you.

"Putting on a show f'me, sweet girl?" He grunted, dragging his hips back before slamming them against yours— "mmh! K-Knew it'd work— fuck!" You moaned, now feeling both of his hands pushing your legs back, knees almost touching your ears as he forced you into a mean mating press. You felt your high coming closer again— balls slapping against your ass, cock bullying that spongey spot inside of your gummy walls as he groaned sweet nothings into your neck— gruff voice drowned out by his own growls.

You could only babble nonsense and his name as you came hard for the second time that night— pussy clenching around his length and he could feel something snap inside of him— hips speeding up to an inhuman pace, losing their rhythm as he bottomed out fully. Balls pressed against your ass while he spurted out so much cum— some of it ran down your ass and on to the sheets as he slowly got up, pulling out of your cunt with a hiss and watching his cum gushing out of your cunt in spurts.

.004 — Fyodor

You were finally bouncing on Fyodor's cock after hours of teasing and cockwarming— your hips and thighs burned but it didn't matter to you at the moment, because you can finally reach that release that Fyodor has been dangling in front of you— or at least you thought.

Your heart dropped to your stomach once the ringing of his phone echoed through the room— an annoyed sigh leaving Fyodor's lips as he gently slapped your thigh, a silent order for you to stop and stay still.

"A noise and you're getting punished," Fyodor's voice was smooth, but the threat made you gulp, "o-okay," you nodded, accidentally clenching down on him from nervousness and he hissed— blunt fingernails digging into your soft hips. He let out a shaky breath before picking up the phone, it was sort of unsettling how his voice switched from breathy to normal in a second.

You didn't know the phonecall would last so damn long.

It had been almost 30 whole minutes since he had picked up the goddamned phone— and this was pure torture to you. The occasional twitch of his cock inside you made your head spin, oh and the way he'd glare at you when you clenched down particularly hard— it did nothing else but make you even wetter. He, on the otherhand, was completely fine— not a hair out of place as he spoke so casually about.. something. The only time he'd react is when your pussy contracted around him— which would only get a hiss, or hitched breath from the man. It pissed you off.

It was too much for you— your juices running down his cock and onto the leather chair, god - you were leaking so much.

Fortunately for you, he was done with the call soon enough— quickly placing the phone on the desk before whispering into your shoulder as he placed gentle kisses on your skin, "go ahead, myshka - move." His voice was soft, as if he was proud of you for obeying his order and being a good girl— fingers that were previously digging into your flesh now reached between your bodies to rub and flick at your clit, while you happily bounced on his dick. He may have been quiet as a mouse during the phonecall— but he couldn't help but let out soft grunts and pants as you expertly milked his cock, dry lips even letting out one or two whines as you kissed his neck, down to his collarbones— pale skin now adorning a heavy flush as your thighs smacked against his own.

Lewd squelches and noises of skin smacking against skin filled the dark room of his office— Fyodor's jaw clenching as he feels your walls - so soft and warm, squeezing his cock as if you were trying to milk him. He was going to cum soon— but he couldn't possibly finish before his darling, could he? Lithe and slim fingers sped up their movements on your clit as he bit on your shoulder— free hand pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples as you gasped, your own pace turning sloppy and uncoordinated as you clenched your eyes shut— cumming all over his cock as he held your hips down firmly, shooting ribbons of white inside of your walls, some of it dribbling down his balls to the leather of his seat.

You both were left panting, shivering as Fyodor drew random shapes into your shoulder— trying to come down from his own high. He pulled you closer after you both calmed down, your head resting on his chest as he placed soft kisses on the crown of your head, whispering how good you've been for him.

If only you knew the man also coming down from his high on the other end of the video call— white hair disheveled as he came all over his screen.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

note. ik i said i'd add jouno but I lost motivation for this thing :( jouno will be added to another work, so sorry jouno lovers </3

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch @chuuya-brainrot

[lovebugism]

i’d love to see what you’d do for a holiday spent with rockstar!eddie 🙂‍↔️ maybe a quiet night in decorating or just smitten with each other’s company after time spent apart?? a suggestive ending maybe 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

ty for requesting :D — you and rockstar!eddie spend the holidays together after coming back from tour (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.2k)

You wake that morning to a heavy and familiar weight on top of you. 

Eddie Munson — rockstar, heartthrob, and world-famous dweeb — is sprawled along your back like your own personal blanket. You swear you can feel his heart beating softly against your shoulder blade while his mouth rests on your cheek, pink and softly parted to exhale little snores in your ear.

You let him for a while, until you think you feel drool on your jaw.

“Wha—?” Eddie slurs when you shift slightly to shove at him. He makes no move to get off of you, though.

“You know we aren’t in a bunk anymore, right?” you mumble into the pillow. “So you don’t have to sleep directly on top of me now.”

“Well, jokes on you, ‘cause I love being on top of you,” he quips, voice heavy with sleep.

You raise a feeble hand to swat at him. “You’re such a perv,” you grumble.

Eddie laughs quietly in your ear, then brushes his lips along your cheek in a chaste kiss. “Want breakfast?” he mumbles against your skin, soft and warm with a lingering slumber.

You nod lazily against the cushion. “Yeah. But I also wanna sleep for, like, five more hours…”

“How 'bout I do a bagel run, and after we fall asleep on the couch? Like old times?”

The mention of old times makes your chest feel all sparkly. Back when you swore you’d hate each other to the grave, but Eddie still had your breakfast order memorized, and you’d still have his favorite T.V. show on by the time he got back.

You’d doze off together, on opposite sides of the couch, but under the same blanket — like some kind of old married couple. Until Steve inevitably found you both there, and you’d go back to hating each other all over again.

“Deal,” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Eddie pats your ass twice and slides off of you.

You grieve his warmth the moment he’s gone.

An hour or more later, the two of you are sufficiently full with breakfast, passed out on opposite sides of the couch, with Scooby Doo re-runs playing quietly across the room.

That’s precisely how Steve finds you — his roommates turned world-famous rockstars — snoring with their mouths wide open, at one in the afternoon, after months of being away. 

With his arms full of groceries, he slams the door shut with his foot. The resounding thud startles both of you accordingly. You and Eddie lift your heavy heads like waking zombies, wincing as you stretch your aching backs.

“This is really humbling to see, by the way,” Steve quips as he hangs his keys by the door.

Eddie scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “It’s just— while you guys were halfway across the country, people wouldn’t stop gushing about the two of you... But it’s a really nice reminder to know that you guys are still a bunch of slobs.”

“Asshole…” Eddie grumbles.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and sit further up. “What are those?” you ask, nodding to the paper bags he holds in both arms.

Steve’s lips jut softly out as he peers over the tops of his groceries. “Ornaments, garlands, tinsel… And some condoms, ‘cause we were running low.”

“Who’s we?” Eddie scoffs.

“Me and your mom—”

“I love you, Stevie,” you say. “But there’s no way in hell I’m decorating this place today.”

“Yeah, Harrington,” the wild-haired boy beside you squints. “We just got home. You’ll have to peel me off this couch if you want me to help.”

“Oh, please,” Steve scoffs.

“What?”

You flash him a knowing grin. “We all know you’re gonna watch Steve do it until he inevitably puts something in the wrong spot and pisses you off until you just to do it yourself. You do it every year, Eds.”

Eddie rolls his chocolate eyes. “I’m not that predictable, doll.”

—————

The apartment is fully decorated by nightfall, by Eddie’s own stubborn volition.

Steve helps you bake a batch of cookies, then promptly leaves after taking a phone call you weren’t allowed to spy in on. He shoves on his coat and mumbles something about an old bootycall that was back in town for the holidays.

You break into his good liquor accordingly, and spike your mugs of hot chocolate with his expensive whiskey.

“C’mere,” Eddie waves from his spot by the glowing Christmas tree.

You let out an immediate whine from the couch, made sluggish from the long day and the spiked cocoa. “What?” you call back in a dramatic mewl.

“You gotta put the star on, doll— You do it every year,” he mocks with a lopsided smile, slick with alcohol.

“But I’m comfortable!”

“Stop complainin’ and get your sweet ass up here.”

You comply, though not without a series of inaudible grumbles as your feet shuffle along the carpeted floor in subdued protest. Eddie guides you up the small step ladder with his palms splayed on your ass.

“What? I’m helping you!” he defends when you flash him a knowing look.

His hands jerk instinctively to your hips when you rise to the tips of your toes, leaning slightly over to hang the shining star upon the highest bough, as it were. You don’t seem to notice how the old wood wobbles slightly beneath you. Eddie does, though, and his chest stings with a fleeting panic as you smile widely down at him.

“It’s so pretty, Eds,” you marvel, only partially tipsy. “You did such a good job.”

“I know,” Eddie hums, all proud of himself, as his palms smooth back over the plush of your ass. “So pretty…” he echoes in a distracted murmur.

“Stop being a perv. I’m trying to compliment you.” You roll your eyes and descend the creaking ladder.

The tree looks best from far away, you think — a chaotic mess of lights and tinsel; of shiny new ornaments and old ones the three of you have collected since childhood. It’s nostalgic, homey, warm. All the feelings you’d nearly forgotten about after spending months on the road.

“Thank you for doing all the work, by the way,” you lilt sheepishly, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he stands at your side. You inhale the sweet scent of his cologne until your chest glows with it.

“How’re you gonna make up for it, huh?” he quips, obviously playful, as he presses a chaste kiss to your hair.

“By cleaning up the mess you made.”

Eddie only then seems to notice the piles of boxes and ripped-open plastic littered along the floor. “Okay, well, what about after that?” he presses.

“Um… Getting in the shower, probably,” you continue with a feigned obliviousness. “‘Cause I smell like sweat and booze.”

A pleased sound rumbles in Eddie’s throat as he smiles down at you. “Mm… Can I join?”

You meet his grin with your brows raised in question. “Only if you’re gonna shave my legs for me,” you answer.

He’s grown strangely fond of doing it for you, which you noticed after months of sharing showers to save water on the road. Not only does it save you the grueling work, but it’s always sure to end with his mouth between your thighs. 

So it's a win-win, really. 

Eddie knows it, too, and he smiles wider than he realizes.

“Deal.”