#i fucking love a key with travel distance

[nudibutch]

god i fucking love this computer

[latenightdaydreams]

Please can you write about ex boyfriend Konig can't moved on from reader. He sneaked in her house and raped her. She resist him at first but then he just dicks her down.

You Can't Leave Me (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, rape, stalking, toxic ex, p in v, oral

1.8k word count

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It’s now been eight months since you’ve broken up with König. When you found out about the trackers he put on your phone and car, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Since then, you’ve moved into your own apartment an hour away from König. Your phone number has been changed along with all social media deactivated.

The last several months have been hard, but you’ve been pushing through so well. Too well, actually. König never lost track of you. He knows your new address, phone number, job, and schedule. You changed your scenery, but not who you are. So, when you left one day, he knew where to look.

Of course, you move to your favorite city. You know König hates the city. He never wanted to move here. You move into the apartment that is only ten minutes from a bookstore, one that you become a frequent customer of quickly. König knows you like the back of his hand. There is no escaping him.

One thing he didn’t expect was you finding someone so quickly. It’s only been eight months. You were together for five years. It should take you longer to move on before realizing there is no one else for you. What the fuck is this?

König walks behind you at a distance as you walk to your date. Wearing a yellow summer dress compliments your body, paired with white sandals. Is that…make-up? That’s not right, you don’t wear make-up; you don’t need it. You’re so naturally beautiful. 

He watches you walk into a café. A very handsome brunette man stands and hugs you. His hand resting above your ass, comfortable with your body as if he’s touched it already. When did he miss this? He glares at the two of you before walking away and going to your apartment.

While you’re out on your nice little date, König breaks into your apartment. Not really breaking in when he finds your spare and uses it, right? He enters your apartment for the first time, taking a deep breath. It smells just like you.

König walks throughout your home, looking at the new photos on the wall of your city friends. One of you with this new guy. He knocks it over. He continues on to your bedroom, seeing your bed is messy; you never make it. His eyes drift to the floor where he sees a pair of black underwear. With little thought, he stands and walks to them. A little white stain, you were aroused? By what? Who?

König lifts the underwear under his mask and to his nose, taking in a deep breath. Exquisite. He shoves the underwear into his pocket and keeps looking. Stepping into your bathroom, he turns the light on. His eyes fall to a little purple case near the sink. It can’t be. Is his little Schatz on birth control?

A sharp stinging feeling deep in his gut travels up to his heart. The mental image of that pathetic worthless man going raw into his Kleine Perle disgust him. You’re whoring yourself out, he knew you’d be lost without him.

He turns the light off and sits on the toilet, pulling out your panties to sniff while he waits for you. An hour passes and he began to grow worried that maybe you went back home with that loser. Right as he was going to check his phone, he hears your keys in the door.

You enter your apartment while on the phone. For safety, you always call a friend while walking.

“Yeah, I’m home now though. I love you, Ann. I’ll see you Tuesday.” Once you hang up, you kick your shoes off and place your purse on the hook.

As you pass your photos in the living room, you notice the photo of you and Finn has been knocked over. A wave of anxiety rushes over you. You try to reason with yourself. It’s almost been a year and you’ve never seen König. He’s probably moved on the same way you have.

You enter your bedroom and turn the lights on. The door closes behind you as you take off your dress, tossing it into the hamper. You grab out a pair of pajamas, placing them on your bed. Reaching behind your back, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside. When you do, you look down at the floor and notice your black pair of underwear is missing.

Maybe you put it in the hamper? Slowly, you walk to the hamper and look inside. At that moment, your bathroom door opens. Your eyes go up and meet the dreadful pale blue eyes. Your heart beat sky rockets, your feet moving ahead of your brain as you turn to run.

König is fast. He reaches out and wraps his arms tightly around your stomach. Lifting you in the air as you kick and scream, slamming you down hard on the bed. The air leaves your lungs and your screaming stops. König pulls out your underwear from his pocket and shoves it into your mouth. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind your back, pulling off his belt with one hand and tying your hands together.

When you try to kick him to get away, but he just climbs on you, resting his weight on you. “Where are you trying to go, Hase?” He growls.

Your screams are muffles as you try to squirm away from König.

“I saw your birth control pills.” He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. “That is still my pussy. You are still mine.”

You shake your head no and try to break free from his grasp. His 6 ’10 280 lb body is just too big to fight back against.

König’s hands begin to travel along your mostly naked body. Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. His finger hooks your panties and moves it down. You buck backwards like a horse and try to kick him. A heavy hand comes down and spanks your ass cheek, you whimper.

“Stay still. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” König finishes pulling your underwear off completely before standing off of your body and getting undressed.

“It’s a shame you thought that you could get away from me. Bigger shame you decided to give away my body to another man. You know I don’t like that.” You can hear his pants drop to the floor finally.

König walks to your body and drags you to the center of the bed. He joins you on the bed, spreading your ass cheeks and pushing his face between them, taking a deep breath.

“That’s still my fucking pussy.” He grabs your ass and jiggles them before climbing over you, one leg on either side of your thighs.

His heavy cock slaps against your cheeks. He spits in his hand and rubs it around the tip of his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds. The feeling of his cock being pressed up against your entrance makes you squirm your hips, but that doesn’t stop König.

König spreads your ass cheeks with his hands so he can have a clear view of your pussy. He looks down at you and pushes himself into you. You tense up, only making yourself tighter for him. A loud moan leaves his lips as he buries his cock deep inside of your pussy.

He doesn’t allow you any time to adjust to his enormous dick as he slams his hips into you. You shake your body, trying your best to break free of his belt around your hands. Eventually you manage to spit your underwear out.

“Stop!” You cry out as you kick your legs as you writhe under him.

“Just take my cock.” He groans.

One of his hands comes down on your head and pushes your face into the pillow, holding you there as he picks up his pace. He rams his cock hard enough to cause pain, forcing the full length of his cock into your tight cunt. Your cries are muffled.

König yanks his head back and forces your head up. “What? You can’t handle my cock anymore?”

“Fuck you! Get off of me!”

“What? You don’t like my cock anymore?” He asks in a condescending tone.

“No!”

“Shut up.”  He pulls his cock out of your pussy, grabbing you by your hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

König puts you on your back and slaps his cock on your lips, rubbing it back and forth. You try to turn your head but he grabs your jaw and forces you to stay still. The tip of his cock presses against your lips pressed tightly together.

“Open.” He lightly taps the side of your face.

Your mouth opens and König shoves himself inside. He forces his way into your throat, finger tracing the outline of his cock appearing. You gag, causing spit to come out of your mouth and on to your face. König keeps pressing in until his balls are resting on your face. Not being about to breathe, you kick and arch your body.

“Shhhh, calm down. You can take it.” He pushes even further.

König begins to rock his hips, fucking your throat. His heavy balls hitting your face over and over. This causes you to gag again and you throw up, turning your head to the side and vomiting on the floor. He laughs, “Are you going to be a good girl or should I keep going?”

“I’ll be good.” You pant with tears in your eyes.

“Gut.” König growls as he walks to the other side of the bed, joining you.

He lays behind you, lifting one of your legs and tells you to hold it. His hand covered in your spit handles his cock as he slips it into your pussy. Your gummy cunt welcomes him back. König grabs your face and turns your face to his.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Mine.”

“Say it, Schatz.” His voice trembling as he bullies his cock deep inside of you.

You try to suppress the orgasmic feeling his cock gives you. As much as you like Finn, his cock is nothing compared to König’s. No matter how toxic König is, you can’t help but to miss him.

“Yours.” You moan out bashfully, hating yourself.

“What was that?” A grin crosses König’s lips.

“It’s yours!” You angrily moan.

“Fuck yes!” König rolls his body on top of yours, your leg pushed over as he grasps your hip and thigh. As he thrust into you, he pulls your back to meet his thrust.

Pitiful mewls freely leave your lips; a mixture of shame and euphoria consumes your whole body. You look back at him, your eyes meeting, as you see the same possessive glare in his eyes as he always has. Will you ever escape this man?

[trainer-from-unova]

day on the green

𖤐 bandom blog: @princess-lvcifer 𖤐 english ao3 𖤐 spanish ao3 𖤐 edits 𖤐 kofi 𖤐 𝄞 𖤐

ship: eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you travel with your best friend through the country to go to a metal festival in San Francisco with him

a/n: lots of metallica references as usual / i wrote this in summer 2022 / english isn't my first language, sorry if something's weird expressed

cw: fluff, best friends to lovers, sexual and romantic tension, sexual humor, affectionate insults

word count: 12'1k

"______, Eddie's calling," said her mother, entering her room without knocking or asking permission. She was listening to Metallica at full volume and knew she probably wasn't going to hear her.

"I'm coming," she said dropping the magazine she was reading, leaving it at the foot of his bed and getting up from it to go downstairs to where the house phone was. "Hey, what's up?" She wanted to hold back the urge to smile like the lovesick fool she was, since her mother was circling the house like a shark, and she didn't want her to know she liked him, not because she was ashamed of him or because her mother thought he was a bad influence — on the contrary, she and Eddie got along well, she didn't see him as a bad guy, but who would want her mother to know which boy she liked? And on top of that he was a close friend who often went to her house.

"Are you at home?" he asked nervously.

"Can't you see I am, asshole?" She asked now. "What's wrong?"

"Okay, don't move from there, I'm on my way," he said, and hung up.

"You fucking asshole," she whispered to herself, she hated being left wondering, she was worried, but knowing Eddie it wouldn't be serious. The most serious thing that could happen was that he'd get caught smoking or selling weed.

She didn't hear Eddie park his van in front of her house because her music was on full blast, but if it wasn't for that, she would have heard him. She had good hearing and recognised the noise made by the engines of his loved ones' cars. She could also recognise the sound of keys or footsteps as they walked.

What she did hear was the doorbell of the house in the distance. She got out of bed and turned the music down, it was obvious that Eddie was there to tell her something, although she had no idea what, but she'd better be able to hear it loud and clear, she'd listen to her favourite songs loud and clear at any other time.

The door to her room was open, so he didn't ask permission to enter. He was practically at his houss, but he did leave it ajar when he entered.

"What is it?" She asked indignantly as she sat cross-legged on her bed. "You've got me fucking intrigued!"

"Boom," he said, raising his right hand, in which he held a pamphlet. She could clearly see names of rock and metal bands she knew: Scorpions, Ratt, Y&T, Metallica, Rising Force, Victory.... Though his eyes went to her favourite band, Metallica, hardly paying attention to the others, as she didn't care that much about them.

Eddie took off his shoes and sat down on her bed, facing her, also with his legs crossed.

"It's this year's Day on the Green," he said, handing her the sheet, "Saturday 31 August. The next day it's Wham! and some other pop bands I obviously don't want to see. I've always wanted to go. We have to go, I won't take no for an answer."

"18'50$... It's expensive, and in Oakland! How are we going to get there, if we go at all?"

"But it's worth the price! And we can go by bus, or by plane, or in my caravan... Yeah, I think my caravan would be better. Think about it, you and me, travelling around the country in a caravan, listening to our favourite songs and shouting them out, and then listening to them played live by their creators and together with more fans..." He couldn't fit the smile on his face and his eyes were shining, it was adorable when he looked so excited, you could tell he liked what he was talking about. "It's a great plan, you can't say no," he said pointing his right hand with his index finger.

It was true, it was a great plan and she couldn't say no to him. And she really wanted to live such a unique experience with him, and alone, but the money issue put her off, and she didn't know what her mother would say about it.

"And on top of that, it's the summer holidays, you can't give me the excuse of school."

"Yes, but the money and my mother..."

"Don't worry about the money, you know..." He whispered.

Yes, it was true, he was loaded from selling weed, but it was bad for her to accept that he paid her entrance fee and everything, and that he drove and paid for the petrol.

"Even though you're failing all your science subjects, you're a good girl, I'm sure she'll let you have a whim like that. And I'm sure she doesn't think too badly of me, does she?"

"I hope so... But before we say anything, we should organise it a bit, so that she sees that we're not going on a wild adventure, that we're organised, and get her in a good mood."

"I see the logic of it, but it has to be as soon as possible, tickets may fly."

"Then let's get down to work. We must go to the library to consult maps and their routes."

That's what they did. They worked out how long the trip would take to get there and back, when they would have to leave Hawkins and when they would be back, motels to spend the night in, gas stations, how much money each of them would have to take with them to pay for expenses, how much the whole trip would cost, and a little emotional and psychological blackmail to use on _______'s mother if needed.

The next day, she let her mother know that Eddie would be going to dinner in the evening and that they wanted to tell her something important. The second she thought they wanted to tell her that they had been together for a long time or even worse, like a pregnancy, but she cleared her worries by telling her it was nothing of the sort.

"I want you here at six o'clock sharp. Get ready," she told him as she got out of Eddie's caravan in front of her house. Her house was between the school and his house, so he was her taxi driver.

"I know, I know."

"Isn't he coming in yet?" asked her mother when she saw her walk in the front door alone.

"No, he's going home to get ready," she said as she made her way to the stairs and took her backpack off her shoulders, "or did you want him to get ready here?"

"What should I make him for dinner?"

"Whatever you want, he'll eat it all pleased," she said on the first floor.

Hours passed and the doorbell rang. It was time. Luckily, he had been on time. For what he wanted to do, he was, but not for his early morning classes at school.

Eddie wasn't that uncomfortable, because he already knew the mother of his best and only female friend, but she had told him that her mother saw him as a possible boyfriend, so he knew what was going through her mind when she saw him with her daughter (the same thing happened with some people at school), and that made him ashamed, because on top of that, at least on his part, he did feel something for _______, something more than friendship.

And well, besides, it was the first time he had dinner and spent so much time with her mother, and of course, there was also the main plan, the mission they had to achieve: to convince her to let her go with him on a trip around the country and go to that metal festival. Technically she didn't need her permission, since she was already 18, but being a woman and still living under her roof, for things like that it was better to have her approval.

"Well, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Intrigue kills me," said her mother, as the three of them sat down at the table.

"Like mother, like daughter," he thought.

"Well, mom, as you know, I love metal, and so does he. It's a music that has helped me a lot in many ways for a long time, and so has Eddie, even though we've known each other for half a year. There's going to be a festival in Oakland on Saturday the 31st of August and we'd really like to go. We've thought about going in his caravan, both of us driving every couple of hours. Also, because of the proximity, we'd like to visit San Francisco and Los Angeles for at least a day, and we'd come back through the south, through the Bible Belt. He has insisted on paying for everything but I have told him no, I could pull from my savings or start working a bit. We've also looked at routes and motels to sleep in, and if anything should happen to the car Eddie is a good mechanic and has all the necessary equipment. I would call you every time we stopped at a place with a phone box. And I think I deserve to go to the festival, plus it's something that would make me very happy and travelling around the country in a car would be an experience..."

"And of course I would look after her in every way, you don't have to worry about anything," he said as seriously as she did.

"Of course, of course," she pointed her index finger at him, giving him a quick glance and a quick nod.

She looked at each of them and a smirk appeared on her face. They were both already fearing the worst.

"All this to ask me to take you on a trip and go to a concert?" she asked incredulously while holding back her laughter.

"...Yes?"

"For God's sake, you don't need to worry so much, you're both old enough to ask my permission. Besides, I can't wait for you to see the world and get wise," she said looking only at her daughter.

"So, ma'am, does that mean yes?" asked Eddie.

"Of course it does," she replied, and they both looked at each other smiling from ear to ear and high-fived.

She looked at them tenderly. It was obvious to her that they were both in love with each other.

Time passed ridiculously slowly.

During the months of waiting before the festival began, Eddie slightly increased the prices of the weed he sold, and started giving private guitar lessons to kids in town to earn a little extra and to disguise where he was getting the money to afford the trip. Meanwhile, she started giving drawing, English and Spanish classes to other kids.

On the first day of May Live Aid was announced, but despite being closer than Oakland, as it would be held in Philadelphia and would be no more than a day's drive (not counting the return trip), it was too expensive. 35$ each ticket. The price was understandable, as the event was going to be an unprecedented spectacle, where many people would be working for a good cause, but they already had enough expenses with what the Day on the Green tickets cost and the trip they would be making. Besides, even if they didn't go to the festival, raising so much money in such a short time was quite difficult, as Live Aid would be on 13th July, and tickets flew quickly, and rightly so, seeing the list of artists who were going to attend to help the cause.

Anyway, they watched Live Aid together on TV and that made them want to go to Day on the Green even more.

And finally the day came for them to go on the trip. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't climbing the walls like Spiderman herself because she was so nervous. She had never left Indiana, she had never made such a long trip, both in terms of distance and days, and she had never been separated from her mother for such a long time. But at least she was going to experience all that with her best friend and the boy she was in love with.

She had been ready since the day before and had gone through her luggage four times, and was about to do it for the fifth time, when a clack sounded outside her house. It was him, no doubt about it. She almost had a heart attack. It was time to go.

She left the house with the luggage and she and her mother pretended to put the things in the caravan, but he got off them and insisted on doing it himself.

As it was almost the end of August, and it was so hot, he was wearing no shirt and shorts. Both young friends were embarrassed for her mother to see him like that, but it was an understandable outfit because of the heat.

She hugged her mother goodbye and told her that she loved her very much. As the mother she was, she could feel her nervousness.

"Don't worry about anything, silly, you'll have a great time, you'll see," her mother whispered in her ear as they hugged.

"I know, but..."

"Before you go, I have to take a picture of you!" said her mother as they parted, "Come on, get together."

Eddie put his arm around ______'s shoulders and pulled her close to him, resting his head on hers, and she posed, making a peace sign with one of her hands. He made a devil sign with his free hand.

Her mother took the camera off her neck and handed it to her, they got into the car, both waved goodbye to her mother and Eddie drove off.

"I CAN'T WAIT!" he shouted.

"Same," she said, laughing a little nervously.

"Well, it doesn't look like it from you," he said, looking at her strangely, "what's wrong?"

"It's nerves, don't worry."

"Nerves about what?"

"To make such a trip, to be so far away from my home and my mother for so long, my comfort zone."

"I mean, it would fuck me up at this point, but if you don't want to go, there's still time for me to turn back..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! No way, of course I want to go on the trip and to the festival, and I've got you on top of that. I wouldn't do this madness with just anyone."

"Do you consider going on a trip and to a festival a crazy thing?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"No, but yes, if it's that far away..."

"As long as you don't tell me to turn around when we're in Nebraska or something like that, it's all right," he said jokingly.

"You know I won't."

On the way they listened and sang along to the cassettes he had, and she brought her own too, so they wouldn't always be alone listening to his.

It was around lunchtime and Eddie had already been driving for a couple of hours, so they stopped to rest and eat.

"Wait, I have to put sunscreen on again," she said before getting back in the car. She had just finished talking to her mother on the phone. She had little to say to her, evidently.

"Really? That's a scam, it's not necessary."

"You're telling me you've been driving around shirtless in the sun for hours without sunscreen?"

"Of course I am."

"You're going to burn, you idiot!"

"No way, you exaggerator."

"Put it," she said, offering the bottle of sunscreen.

"No," she said with disgust.

She poured cream into her free hand, moved closer to him and directed her cream-filled hand to his collarbone, rubbing her hand over it, and trying not to look at his tattooed chest or his tablet, making a superhuman effort not to let her eyes wander to those areas of his body. That took him by surprise, but he kept still and quiet, accepting the gesture.

"Dampen down a little," she asked as she rubbed cream back into her hand, looking up, meeting his eyes. "Do you see how necessary this is?" She asked as she creamed his left cheek, inches from each other. "You're already red."

He was sure he wasn't red from the sun, but he shut up.

"Turn around," she asked again, and he again obeyed.

For a second she stared at his back. She thought is was beautiful and couldn't believe she was about to run hee hands over it. She pushed his hair forward with her little finger so as not to get even a little cream in it.

"Don't you want to put your hair in a high ponytail or a bun?" She asked as she ran her hand down his back. "You'd be cooler."

"I look ridiculous."

"I'm sure you wouldn't. Besides, what difference does it make if I see you like that?"

"A lot," he thought, "you're the only person whose opinion really matters to me."

When he noticed she was done, he turned and she offered him the bottle of sunscreen again. His arms, legs and torso remained. It was understandable, she wasn't going to rub it all over him, he was too old to follow and it would be very uncomfortable in many ways, especially touching his torso, although they both wanted to.

When he finished applying the cream, he gave her back the pot and hugged her tightly.

"You idiot, you're going to stain me and you're sweaty! Ugh!" and he laughed wickedly.

"Do you want me to help you lie on your back?" he asked as he let her out of his grip.

She was wearing shorts and a crop top.

"Okay," she said as she turned around. She didn't need to, she could do it on her own, but she wasn't going to refuse help, especially if it was about him touching her.

Eddie put cream on his right hand and directed his hand to her back. He was nervous, more so than he had been before, when she was creaming him. He didn't know how to touch her, but he knew he had to act normal, so he rubbed his hand across the uncovered part of her back with the mission to get the sticky cream off his hand as quickly as possible. He tried not to look too closely at her back, and his fingertips ended up inside her crop top, unintentionally brushing her bra for a second. Then he slid his hand down her right side to remove what little cream he had left, stopping when he brushed against her trousers. She loved the feel of his hand right then, in that place, like that, even though it probably wasn't a big deal and she was making a movie in her head. Then he pushed her hair forward and decided to rub cream on her neck, massaging it lightly.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

He got into the car, in the passenger seat, where she was before, and she quickly rubbed cream on her belly and legs, then sat in the driver's seat, where Eddie was before.

"Turn around and face the window," she said.

"For what?"

"You listen to me, okay?"

"Well... Okay."

She took off the extra hair tie she wore on her wrist as a spare in case she lost the one she was wearing and grabbed Eddie's hair, doing him a bun.

"Tell me, are you cooler right now?"

"Yes, but I'm sure I look ridiculous."

"You look gorgeous, as always," she said matter-of-factly, as she settled everything in the car so she could start driving.

After a few more hours they stopped again to stretch their legs and change drivers, had dinner at a fast food place and finally ended up at a motel, almost on the outskirts of the state.

When they entered the room they saw that there was only one bed.

"I'll go and ask for a room with two beds," he said, turning away.

"Eddie, it's night, and you're exhausted," she stopped him, taking him by the arm. "Come in, come on," she said, nodding her head.

"You don't care?" he asked, referring to sharing a double bed.

"I don't give a shit," she was even excited, but of course she wasn't going to say that, and she couldn't know that he did too, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way, so that's why he offered asking for a room with two beds.

They arranged their things and the first thing they wanted to do was to take a shower, they were exhausted, sweaty and sticky from the sun cream.

"I'll shower first," they both said at the same time, standing in the middle of the small room after sorting their luggage and taking things out. "...You first," they both said again at the same time, and laughed at the synchronicity and telepathy they sometimes had.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" she asked.

"Come on," he said, leaning closer to her.

They both kept their dominant hands behind their backs and recited the chant of the game at the same time.

"...and... three!" They both pulled their hands behind their backs at the same time, making their hands and fingers make the shape of the object they had chosen in their minds. She drew paper and he drew scissors, but as soon as he saw that she was losing the game, he turned his hand from scissors to stone, and then put his arm around her shoulders, making her walk towards the bathroom.

"You win, you first," he said.

"Dude!" she said, annoyed but laughing.

"Shhh."

"Well okay, but at least let me get some panties and my pajamas, or do you want me to come out of the bathroom naked?"

"All right, all right," he said letting go of her and raising his arms in the air as if he was being mugged.

She grabbed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Meanwhile, he pulled on his pajamas (aka boxer shorts), turned on the TV that was there, looked for MTV and sat on the edge of the bed to watch it. He wanted to lie down on the bed, but he didn't want to stink up the bed with the stench of his sweat or stain it.

When she came out of the bathroom her hair was wet, she was wearing only panties and a baggy T-shirt, and clearly no bra.

"Your turn," she said as she made her way to the bed to lie down on the left side of it.

He got up from the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom, which was full of steam.

"Did you take a hot shower, you crazy woman?" he asked before closing the door to get undressed and get into the shower.

"Yes," she replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world for the month they were in.

"It's the middle of August."

"Do you think I don't know that?" she asked, holding back her laughter, and then he, still surprised, closed the door.

She flicked through the television herself, but ended up back on MTV, then picked up the phone on the bedside table and called her mother again to let her know where they were and that they were okay.

He came out of the bathroom shortly after, wearing only short but baggy black boxer shorts and still with drops of cold water sliding off him, mostly running down his tattooed chest and back from his wet hair.

"Anything interesting on TV?" he asked as he lay down next to her on the bed.

"No, but we should turn it off now anyway," she said, referring to the fact that they had to get up early the next morning to continue driving.

"Yeah," he said, getting out of bed.

He went to turn off the television and the light, then turned on the ceiling fan and opened the window, then took off all his jewellery and watch, and finally lay back down on the bed with her, on her side, resting her head on his right arm. She moved into the same position facing him, and he could see her silhouette perfectly thanks to the little light coming in from outside the motel. Her T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing her belly.

She moved closer and snuggled up to him, which he gladly accepted and wrapped his free, left arm around her.

"I still can't process all of this, if you told me about this when we became friends..." she said as she looked at her friend's tattooed chest.

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it either," he said, stroking her arm with his thumb.

It was the 27th of July last year, in the morning. She drove to her nearest record shop before they opened first thing in the morning. There was a queue of metalheads waiting in line outside the door, and she assumed they were there for exactly the same thing she was: to buy Metallica's new album, Ride the Lighting. Last year, having just released their first album, Kill 'em all, she had fallen completely in love with them and their style of music, and couldn't miss out on having the new album the instant it was released. She walked past all the metalheads standing there, until someone called out to her, catching her attention.

"_______!"

There he was, standing like the others, impatiently waiting for the shop to open to get his record.

They both knew each other from high school, despite not being in the same year or classes, and not being from popular groups, they understood and respected each other.

"Are you coming to get the new Metallica album?" he asked.

"Yes," and a big smile broke out on Eddie's lips as he gestured for her to come with him, standing next to him in the queue. "Thank you," she said for being a sneak. The person behind him pouted but fortunately didn't protest.

"I didn't know you liked Metallica, let alone knew them," he said, smiling. It was always a pleasure to meet people with the same musical tastes, especially when your tastes were considered strange and living in a small town.

"I can't say the same," she said smiling sideways, "it's pretty obvious looking at you that you do know them and many more rock and metal bands."

During the little while they waited in line they talked about how they met Metallica, their favourite songs from Kill 'em all, their favourite band members and asked each other if they liked other bands.

They went inside and went straight to get their copies of Ride the Lighting to take home.

"I'd love to listen to it together," he said as they left the shop after paying for the records, "and know each other's opinion of the songs instantly."

"Yeah," she said as they walked to the car park.

"I'd invite you to my place, but since my uncle works nights he sleeps in the mornings, and I'm going to have to listen to it," he said, referring to the record, "with my headphones on..."

"It's all right," she said. She could invite him to her house, since her mother was working and she had the whole house to herself, but she had just met him formally, she wasn't going to just invite him to her house. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"As soon as we get home we'll listen to it and when we're done we'll call each other to talk about it, what do you think?"

"That's fine with me."

They exchanged phone numbers and got into their cars and headed home to listen to the album for the first time.

Two minutes after she finished listening to the album, the phone rang. She knew it was him.

"What do you think?" he asked expectantly.

"I'm in shock, man."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"What do you think? Let's see."

"Good? Because come on, I loved it."

"Me too! Although I didn't like all the songs," she said with a wince as she ran her finger along the phone's curly cord.

"No? Really?!"

"Yes."

"Which ones didn't you like?"

"Fade to Black and The call of Ktulu or whatever the fuck it's called," she could hear a small chuckle on the other line.

"I don't think they're bad."

"No no, I'm not saying that, it's just that they're not my style, I need a lot more rhythm, apart from the fact that they're too long."

"Yeah, it's understandable. I do like them but they're not my favourites either."

"And which ones are?"

"I couldn't tell you, they're all very good..." he was thoughtful for a few seconds. "Maybe... My favourite is Creeping Death. The riff, the lyrics, James's voice... It's tremendous."

"I loved that one too! And For Whom the Bell Tolls. Ride the lighting too but not as much as those two. I need to listen to them on loop for hours, I swear, I loved them."

Who knew in that moment that that album would quickly become a gold album and that just over a year later they would hear them live with him on the other side of the country?

The next few days of the trip were pretty much the same as that day: driving for hours, changing drivers, putting on sun cream, stopping to eat and go to the toilet, calling her mother and his uncle, filling up with petrol, listening to their cassettes at full volume and singing loudly in the caravan, smoking tobacco, laughing, talking about silly things, taking pictures with the camera of _______, and taking showers and sleeping in motels.

It was Thursday night, and they were already in downtown Nevada, resting in the motel where they stayed that night. They were also in a room with only one bed, a double bed, but they didn't mind.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight, I can't believe we'll be in Oakland by tomorrow. I could just keep driving right now," he said as they huddled together, and knowing him as well as she did, she knew it was true.

"Yeah, me too," she said, smiling as much as he was.

"I'm so glad you're my friend, I wouldn't be having this magical experience without you... I love you so much," he said smiling sweetly.

He really wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that she made him crazier than he already was, that he wanted to hold her tight and never let go, to kiss her and take care of her, but... He had to keep quiet. They had a precious friendship and if he confessed and she didn't reciprocate, which he assumed was most likely, it would probably make things very awkward between them and if he confessed during the trip, they wouldn't be able to run away from each other, having to share a car and rooms for days. It would be the worst-case scenario.

She assumed that he meant that he loved her very much as a person and as a friend, and nothing more. And he did mean that he loved her in those ways, but he also meant that he secretly loved her as a partner.

"I love you too," she said, smiling in the same way.

They stood for a few seconds looking into each other's eyes in silence, and for microseconds at times their eyes would wander to each other's lips.

Maybe it was the emotions running high, maybe it was the tiredness, maybe it was the night, maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the way they were cuddled up in that marriage bed, maybe it was that she was sick of hiding her feelings, maybe it was that she was too brave when she liked someone, maybe it was Eddie's words and that she wanted to have even a little faith that she could have more than friendship with him, or maybe it was all of the above at once, but she decided to bring her face close to his, ridiculously slowly for fear of screwing up.

He noticed and almost had a heart attack. He didn't know what was going through his best friend's mind, he didn't know how she felt about him, but according to him, it looked like she was getting close to his face to kiss him, which if it was true, he had to take advantage of the opportunity, so he decided to do the same as her: get close to her face in a ridiculously slow way.

But then they were stopped by noises from the people in the next room, and they weren't just any noises; they were noises of bed springs and moaning, especially from a woman.

They both stopped dead in their tracks, frozen in their tracks, staring at each other with wide eyes and trying not to piss themselves laughing.

"This is ridiculous, I swear," she whispered as she moved slightly away from him and lay on her back, "I can't believe it," she said, pillowing her ears, to no listen the moans.

"Why are you whispering? You aren't the one who should be quiet. Do you want me to knock on the wall?" he asked as he raised his left arm and put his hand on the wall.

"No, let them have a good time," she said, her pillow no longer acting as a hoof against the noise. "Besides, if you hit the wall, you'll break her," she said as he lay on his back like her.

"We're not going to sleep tonight, but not for what we thought."

"It probably won't be long before they're done."

"They'd better."

And there they were, lying on their backs staring at the ceiling, taking in what had just happened, or rather what might have happened... if it hadn't been for the two shamelessly scandalous people who were fucking like rutting animals in the next room. They were uncomfortable in many ways, although they had to admit that the situation was funny at the same time.

The next evening they were in Oakland. They went to dinner and to stretch their legs a bit, seeing a bit of the city, and then to rest at the hotel where they would sleep.

"There are a lot of good looking guys around here," she said as they walked back to the hotel, noticing that there were a lot of metalheads around town, and she assumed that many of them might be like them: not from there, not living there, but had travelled there to attend the festival. "Something tells me they're here for the same reason we are."

He didn't say anything, he knew perfectly well that his best friend was crazy about long-haired men because she said so on several occasions, but still, he didn't think he had a chance with her even if he had long hair.

They still couldn't believe that they were already there and that the next day after lunch they would be at the stadium enjoying themselves like crazy.

The next morning they decided to take the car and go sightseeing in San Francisco, passing over the Bay Bridge of course. They were aware that with how big the city was and how little time they had before they had to be ready to go to the stadium in Oakland they wouldn't be able to see much, but they weren't there for sightseeing and seeing how different it was to Hawkins was enough for them.

The concert started at two in the afternoon.

She insisted that they had better be there as soon as possible to get parking in the stadium car park and to queue as soon as possible, so they drove back to their hotel in Oakland to get their tickets and then to the stadium. They were both wearing Metallica T-shirts.

Fortunately Eddie bought the tickets a few days after the event was announced, so they had tickets to be on the field and not in the stands, which was too boring and far away from the stage. As soon as the gates to the field opened, they and everyone else ran as if they were being chased with a chainsaw to get to the front row, in front of the stage.

"Do you see how I was right to come early?" she asked. They were almost in the front row.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I saw on TV once that this kind of thing happened at concerts in stadiums, at a Michael Jackson concert."

The first band to play was Victory, then Rising Force, then Metallica. At last the moment they had been waiting for the most, the moment they had travelled thousands of miles from their hometown on the other side of their big country had finally arrived.

_______ started screaming with excitement, jumping of joy and grabbing Eddie's arm, almost cutting off his circulation and digging her nails in when she heard The Ecstasy of Gold, a song by Ennio Morricone from the soundtrack for the film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly that they always played at the beginning of their concerts two years ago as they went on stage and prepared to play.

"Are you all right?" he asked, laughing.

"AAAAAAH!" she said, waving his arm.

"I agree," he laughed, "Ride on my back," he said, bending down.

"Oh," she thought the suggestion was a good idea, but she felt bad for him, because he would have to carry her weight for all or most of their performance and he wouldn't be able to enjoy doing headbangs, or pogos, or even raising his hands in the metalhead's signature horns symbol. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, "ride."

"Okay, thank you very much, really."

"You don't have to give them," he said as she mounted his back and grabbed it.

She had her favourite band member, Cliff Burton, practically a few feet away from her. She felt like if she reached out and lifted her arm she could touch him, even though he was actually about 20m away.

They started playing one of their favourite songs: Creeping Death.

She wasn't the only one going crazy with excitement and singing her lungs out for the song, there were many more people in the audience full of excitement to see the band playing live, and she was happy for them. They were a very good band, and it was one of the first times, if not the first, that they had played in a stadium in front of so many people.

"DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN! DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN, DIEEEEEE!"

Eddie looked up and saw her singing loudly with a smile from ear to ear that didn't fit on her face. He had never seen her so happy, and his smile grew bigger. Then he turned his attention back to the group in front of him.

"OH YEAH?" shouted James Hetsfield, the band's vocalist and rhythm guitarist, into the microphone, and then he tilted his head towards the audience and put his hand to his ear, as if trying to sharpen his hearing. He was clearly playing with the audience.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted, and many more.

"OH YEAH?" James shouted again, doing the same as before.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted again.

"FUCKING RIDE THE LIGHTIIIIING!" shouted James into the microphone, and he and the rest of the band started playing that song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT THERE?" he shouted raising his hand, encouraging the audience to be loud when they were already halfway through the song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!" he shouted in the same way almost at the end of the song, "I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU!" he shouted as he put his hand to his ear. "HEY!"

Then he walked away from the microphone and stood next to Cliff. They were both doing headbangs and were perfectly in sync without even trying. Meanwhile, Kirk Hammett, the band's lead guitarist, on the other side of the stage was going more his own way.

When the song was over James walked over to the foot of the drum kit, where Lars Ulrich was standing, and picked up a small bottle of beer, probably fresh and alcoholic, and walked back to his microphone.

"ROCK AND ROOOOOLL!" shouted Eddie, and she laughed and shouted back.

"ARE YOU DOING ALL RIGHT?" asked James, and everyone shouted, "We've come here to kick some assess! [ . . . ] You know Cliff Burton over there?" He asked the crowd, pointing to his bandmate, the bass player. "Everyone, "Hey Cliff, how ya doing?"" he said waving his hand in greeting.

"HI CLIFF!" she and a few others shouted.

James stepped away from the microphone as he took a sip from the bottle of beer he had just picked up next to the drum kit, and Cliff began to play a bass solo while doing a light headbang, his head bent low and focused on the strings of his black bass while his hair moved incessantly, as did his fingers.

The best words to describe that bass solo were "Epic", "Legendary", "Magical", "Iconic", "Mind-blowing"... And it sounded like he was playing thunder instead of an instrument. ______'s eyes and mouth opened slightly without her noticing, and the hair on her body stood on end. Absolutely everyone was shocked, including Lars, who forgot to start playing the drums, and Cliff himself had to turn around and tell him he had to start playing. As soon as Lars started playing the drums, Cliff came back and played another epic bass solo.

She would recognise that rhythm anywhere, in any situation. It was For whom the bell tolls, and it was a song entirely written by Cliff. The smile on his face throughout the whole show, but especially during that song, was priceless. He kept doing headbangs, moving around the stage, gesticulating with his hands and singing to himself. You could tell he was excited to play that bass solo and his song in front of so many people enjoying it.

Then they started playing The Four Horsemen, a song from their first album, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one who was running out of voice, because she noticed James' voice faltering a bit.

The song was followed by Fade to Black, despite a boy in the audience shouting out Whiplash as a suggestion.

"Thank you! That was Fade to Black, from the album Ride the Lighting...! ...ARE WE GOING TO FUCK UP TODAY OR WHAT?" The crowd screamed in response, and he threw the pick at a person in the audience. "Good catch! ...WANT DESTRUCTION?" the audience shouted back in response. "By the way, this one goes... There's no other way, on the Kill 'em all album. We want to hear you scream! This song is called... SEEK & DESTROY!" The crowd screamed again for the third time, and more than the previous times. "I can't fucking hear you," said James pretending to be disappointed as the crowd sang the chorus. That was the song where the crowd was the loudest.

And last but not least, and finally for the fan in the audience who kept shouting it: Whiplash.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH!" said James as the song ended, "THANK YOU!

The crowd started screaming "Metallica!" non-stop, and seeing that they wanted more of them and that Y&T weren't ready to go on stage yet, they were allowed to play more songs. They chose to play half of Diamond Head's Am I Evil? and Motorbreath.

"Good day, whatever!" said James, waving goodbye to the audience. "Cheers! Thank you very much!"

As they left the stage, Eddie crouched down and she got off his shoulders.

"Well, we can go now," she said jokingly. "Thank you very much. I'll give you a massage later."

"Don't worry about it."

"That was amazing, my God!" she said as they walked out of the stadium after all the performances were over.

"I told you you had to come!" he said. "Thank goodness I convinced you into it."

"But can we talk about Metallica's performance? Oh my God, it's still not sinking in!"

"Cliff's bass solo in the intro of For whom the bell tolls made the hair on the back of my neck stand up," he confessed.

"Me too, man! And his smile throughout the whole song?! I love him, he's a genius and super adorable, I could tell he was living it up."

It took them a while to get out of the car parking and around the stadium as it was packed. Being from Hawkins, they had never seen so many cars together and so much traffic.

"Where do you want to go now?" he asked as he drove. It was still daylight, but it was late afternoon. "Are you hungry? Shall we go to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry yet, are you?"

"Neither am I."

"Not as hungry as the concert, but I can't wait to go to the beach and see the ocean. I'd like to see the sunset there."

"Then there we go."

They crossed back over the bay bridge and missed directions to the locals, peering out of the caravan windows. They were told that the best beach to enjoy the view, including the Golden Gate Bridge, was Baker Beach, so that's where they went.

They arrived at just the right time, at sunset. They took off their shoes and for the first time felt the sand under their feet and between their toes. The ocean breeze made their manes and their wide shirts move as the wind wanted them to, and for the first time they smelled the salty water. The eyes of _______ were fixed on the sun hiding behind the Pacific Ocean.

She decided to take her camera out of her bag and take a picture. Meanwhile, Eddie was looking at her. He thought she was prettier than the sunset. When she finished taking the picture, she put the camera back in her bag, put it on the ground and looked at the sunset again for a second, then looked at Eddie.

"This is the best day of my life," she said, teary-eyed but smiling.

"Hey hey hey," he said worriedly, "why are you crying?"

"I'm crying from happiness," she said as she smiled at her friend's concern and ran her fingers across her eyes to wipe away the tears, "it's a good thing."

Eddie put his arms around her and kissed her head repeatedly. She was too adorable, she could handle him. He loved her madly.

"It's the best day of my life, too," he said when they broke apart, and he placed one of his hands on her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently to wipe away the trace of the silent tear that had fallen down her face seconds before.

They both couldn't wait to tell the other that they loved each other, that they loved each other madly and not just as best friends, to kiss... But the fear of rejection and ruining the moment, the day, the trip and their friendship outweighed those desires.

"We haven't tasted water yet, how is that possible?" he said, grabbing her by the shoulders, trying to make her laugh and trying to distract himself from the impulse he had felt to confess and kiss her at that moment. "Come on!" he said, taking her by the hand and making her walk towards the shore, leaving her slippers, socks and bag behind.

"It's warm," she said, slightly surprised with her feet in the water.

"It must be because it's been in the sun all day. How about a swim? It's perfe-"

"Ugh, something touched my foot!" She said in disgust, lifting her foot and moving towards him.

"It's seaweed."

"I'm not taking a bath," she said, still disgusted.

"Because of the seaweed?" he asked, raising one of his eyebrows and smiling mockingly.

"It's too disgusting... For that I prefer swimming pools or bathtubs."

"It's just a plant, but a sea plant," he said, bending down and picking it up. He stretched out his arm to pull her closer but she pulled back as if he was holding a cockroach, and seeing how her body and face reacted, he couldn't help but laugh as he let go the plant. "Look, there's a very clean area over there," he said pointing with his head as he approached her, and while she was distracted for a second looking at the area he had pointed out to her, he bent down and grabbed her behind her knees and her waist, like a prince carrying his princess in a fairy tale that mothers told their daughters in bed before they went to sleep at night.

"What-" She didn't mind him grabbing her like that, in fact, she obviously liked it if it was him, but she stopped liking it when she saw Eddie start to go into the sea, into an area with too much seaweed for her liking. "Eddie, no! Don't even think about it!" and he laughed a wicked laugh, like when he saw his fellow Hellfire Club members in distress in a Dungeons and Dragons battle.

"Don't be a pussy!"

"Eddie I'm literally a pussy!" she said refering to her vagina.

"Not everything could be perfect this day, baby!"

"Eddie, if you drop me there, your uncle will never hear from you again! And I'm wearing clothes, not a bikini!"

"So what? The clothes are drying."

"Not in this air and it's getting dark, and I don't have a towel."

"Weeeell," he said, turning around while smiling and setting her down on the shore, on the sand.

They walked back to where they had left their things and she sat down on the sand. He decided to sit behind her, wrapping his legs and arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"You're stupid," she said, annoyed but smiling at the same time.

"And you love me for it," he said, poking her lightly in the side with the tip of his index finger.

"Yes..." He sighed deeply, "very much, as you have no idea, much to my disgrace," she thought.

It was getting colder and colder, so they decided to go somewhere for dinner and then to the hotel to rest, trying to catch up on sleep while they were snuggled up to each other, as they were used to.

The next morning Eddie woke up with a horrible neck ache from doing so many headbangs and some back pain from holding _______ during Metallica's performance, so before leaving the hotel she lay on top of him on the bed and gave him the best neck, shoulder and back massage she could. She was smart and knowing how much her neck would hurt the next day and how fragile it was, she decided not to do headbangs.

Then they headed for Los Angeles and by lunchtime they were there, on Venice Beach with a few litres of alcoholic beer they had bought, and now they had their swimming costumes and towels on (and sunscreen, of course).

"We had rock and roll..." he said, referring to the festival, "we've had 'drugs', if we can consider them drugs...", he said, throwing his hands up in the air, one with a bottle of beer and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. She had forbidden him to bring weed for fear of being caught in a checkpoint. "The sex is the only thing missing."

"I don't feel like fucking any guy here," she said, "they all look like Barbie's boyfriend."

"And they all look like Barbies here," he said half-heartedly, to her surprise.

"But Barbies are pretty."

"Have you seen the sculptures of the ancient Romans? They're made of rock, they're quality and there are few of them. On the other hand, there are a lot of plastic ones, of poor quality and copies of each other. I prefer a woman made of rock."

"How do you know that, Shakespeare?" She asked with a mocking smile. "I thought you were bad at history."

"Yes, but not at art."

"Anyway, even if we wanted to fuck with someone here, I don't think they'd want to fuck with us."

"Speak for me, but not for you. You're beautiful."

"I'm not that much."

"Said the one who always has several guys behind her."

"But they're not Kens because I'm not a Barbie, I'm not popular."

"You are popular among the "weirdos" at school, and you know it, don't tell me you're not."

"Well, I didn't say I was ugly, I admit it, but..."

"You're beautiful. End of discussion."

"Well, all right, if you say so..." She looked away, holding her smile and blushing a little, "Thanks, I guess. You too," she looked back at him.

"Oh, you think I'm a pretty girl, too!" He said in a squeaky voice and put his hand to his chest, pretending to be surprised. "Thank you very much! Aren't you roasting? Shall we go in the water? Or are you still terrified of seaweed?"

"Mm..." Yes, actually yes, she was too disgusted by that.

"At least come and soak your feet, right?" he asked as he stubbed out his cigarette in the sand and got up.

"Well, okay," she said, doing the same as she made a bun with one of the hair ties around her wrists.

"The tide brings the seaweed to the shore," he said, pointing to it as the two of them stood there soaking their feet, "but look, it's all clear up ahead. You only have to go the first few yards. I can carry you and get you there without you touching any seaweed."

"Uh..."

The beach was full of people and she was embarrassed to be seen being carried, as if she didn't have the legs to walk and go into the water on her own. It would be more embarrassing if they found out how disgusting the seaweed made her feel, but it was not her fault that she found it disgusting, especially as an inland girl who could only swim in clean pools. But then she thought that she shouldn't give a shit what strangers thought of her and that she didn't want to miss the experience of swimming in the Pacific Ocean with her best friend after an epic and unforgettable trip, so she accepted the proposal.

"Well, okay," he thought he was going to carry her like he had carried her at the festival the day before, but he carried her like he had carried her on the beach in San Francisco, like a princess. That was a little more embarrassing than being carried like a little girl on hia back. "How are you not disgusted by stepping on them?" she asked, disgusted, referring to the seaweed as he began to walk deeper into the ocean.

"They're just plants," he laughed, "you act like they're cockroaches."

"But their touch is disgusting."

"I don't think it's that bad."

"Well, lucky you."

"You know there are people who eat them?"

"Good for them," she said indifferently, and he laughed again at her answer. "Oh, it's freezing!" she said, referring to the water when he was already deeper in, the water coming up to his waist, and she was wetting her butt.

"It's not that bad! Besides, what did you expect? Don't be a pussy!"

And when he finally reached the area without seaweed, he suddenly let her go, making her scream at such an abrupt change of temperature. She, annoyed, splashed him with her arm. He laughed.

"It would have been worse little by little, if you do it all at once it's less bad," yes, he was one of those who jumped in the pool, "or did you want me to baptise you?" He closed his eyes, shut his mouth, covered his nose with his hand and bent down, putting his head completely in the water. When he pulled it out, he shook her hair like a shampoo advert and splashed her a little.

They stayed on the beach most of the day, until it got dark and they went to the hotel where they would be staying that night.

On Monday morning, 2 September, they would start the journey home, back to Hawkins. It was a bit depressing, as they didn't want the trip to end, they had had too much fun, and on top of that they didn't feel like going back to school, especially as they had to repeat their last year.

It was the second time that Eddie had repeated his last year and the whole group of friends from ______ had graduated and left town, but at least they would be in the same class together.

The last night they spent together they were sad for that very reason, because it was going to be the last night they would sleep together. And the last morning they spent together Eddie woke up before she did, so knowing how little his best friend wanted to go back and start her last term again, he decided to wake her up by tickling her, making her squirm in bed, crying with laughter and screaming for him to stop.

They returned to Hawkins on Saturday evening. Eddie helped get their luggage out of his van and into their house, and her mother offered to stay for dinner with them, so she could listen to the stories of the trip told by the two of them. Knowing that his uncle would not be home when he arrived because of his work schedule, and knowing that his best friend's mother's food was better than anything edible in his house, he gladly accepted the invitation.

"The beaches were amazing. The one I liked best was the one in San Francisco, because of the view of the Golden Gate," she told her mother when the three of them were at the dinner table.

"But she was afraid to go in the water because she was disgusted by the seaweed," said Eddie, "and the next day in Los Angeles I had to carry her like a Disney princess to get her into the water without being brushed by any of the seaweed."

"I wasn't afraid, you exaggerator!" she said in her defence, "just disgusted."

And then it was time to say goodbye. They both felt it would be a long time before they would see each other again, but in reality they would see each other in two days, on Monday morning at the school.

"I had a great time," she said in front of him, holding his hands, looking at him and smiling wistfully beside his van, parked in front of her house, "thank you for convincing me to come, thank you for everything."

"Thank you for coming," he said, looking at her and smiling in the same way, squeezing her hands and then letting go to give her a long, tight hug. "I'll see you Monday at school, okay?" he said as they parted.

"Unfortunately," she didn't even have a spark of desire to go back there, who would? Only popular people or people who find it easy to study or the poor bastards whose validation depends on having high numbers on papers after spewing out useless data for everyday life. "Goodbye," she said as she began to walk backwards, waving her hand as a final goodbye, and then she turned around. He stood there, watching her walk away from him and through the door of her house, making the last direct eye contact with her eyes quickly before she closed the door behind her.

As much as she was looking forward to seeing her mother and being in the comfort of her home, and especially in the comfort of her room and bed, she felt that she had missed something of utmost importance along the way, that she was missing something important: it was him, and the post-concert, post-trip depression. The same thing happened to him, and on top of that his uncle wasn't at home to greet him when he arrived from dropping off ______ at her house, but he knew that was a likely thing. He would see him on Sunday at noon, as he had a night shift, and in the morning he slept.

Their beds were supposed to be their greatest source of comfort, especially after almost two weeks of travelling around the country, from motel to hotel and back again. So why couldn't they sleep? They were not stupid, they were aware of their feelings, but they didn't think it would affect them so much. They missed each other, they wanted each other to be there beside them, lying down and cuddling. He tried to hug his pillow but it wasn't the same. She wanted to hug a crappy stuffed animal he gave her off the arcade hook a year ago but it was too small to be cuddled.

Eddie could have perfectly well drugged himself to calm down and fall asleep as soon as possible, but instead he decided to do something even more stupid: get out of bed, leave the house, get in the van and drive to his best friend's house. Hopefully she was still awake, hopefully they could sleep together that night, hopefully he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of her for having such a need like a little kid.

"Shit," he thought as he got out of the van, which he had parked in front of the house. He didn't see any light inside, everything indicated that mother and daughter had already gone to bed in their respective rooms.

But then he thought that just because she was in bed didn't mean she was already asleep. She decided to go to the side of the house and stand under her bedroom window. He bent down to the floor in search of pebbles to throw at the window to get her attention in a quiet way, without waking her mother or her neighbours.

He threw a pebble at her window, calculating his aim with his mind and throwing it hard enough so that it would reach the window but not break the glass even a little bit. It didn't rattle against the glass because there was no glass, the window was open because of the heat, but he thought that wasn't a problem, and maybe it was more effective for the pebble to go inside her room.

As it happened, the pebble ended up inside her room, bouncing on the floor, making noise, but he didn't know that for sure, he didn't know if that had woken her up if she was sleeping or if it had caught her attention enough to make her get out of bed and look out the window to see what was going on, so he decided to throw another pebble, and just as he was about to throw it, she looked out of the window.

"Eddie?" she asked in a whisper, surprised and confused. "What is it? What are you doing here?" He dropped the pebbles and took a few steps forward. It was the moment he was waiting for, what he had planned and wanted was happening, but he opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out of him. He didn't know what to say, because there was really a lot he wanted to express. "Do you want me to come down?" she asked, and he nodded his head quickly, but it was dark and she couldn't see it very well, so she decided to ask. "Yes?"

"Yes," he answered, "please."

"I'll be right there, wait a second," she said, who had to put on a pair of trousers because she was in her panties, go downstairs and get her keys.

"No hurry," he said as he moved away from the window. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The longer it took her to come down, the more time he would have to calm down. He was restless, more than usual. He never used to get this nervous before playing in front of people from the school.

He heard the door of the house open and close and she approached him with the keys in the pocket of the shorts she had just put on. Crickets could also be heard not far away, and the leaves of the trees rustling in the thin breeze.

"What's the matter?" She said, approaching him with concern. "Has something happened?"

"No, no, it's all right," she saw how nervous and uneasy he was and knew he was lying, but she took his hands to calm him in every way. He gladly agreed, and he did calm down somewhat.

"So?" she asked, even more puzzled.

"Well... You see... I know it's stupid, but... Well, you know me, don't you? I'm like that, I can't help it..." There was a brief silence in which he didn't know what to say, or rather how to say it, trying to find the words in his mind while she looked at him and waited for whatever he was going to say. She didn't really know what to expect from him, and the situation was strange. "I couldn't sleep and I think it's because I'm missing you by my side," he laughed nervously again. She smiled and tightened her grip.

"The same thing was happening to me."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Really."

"So...? Are we sleeping together tonight?"

"Please and thank you. At your place?"

"Okay."

"I'll come in for a moment to write a note to my mother for when she wakes up tomorrow and doesn't see me at home," he said, holding up her hand, pointing to her house with her thumb behind it, "okay?"

"Sure."

After what she said and did, they rode in his van to Eddie's house in absolute silence, no music, no talking. They didn't need to, and they didn't have anything to talk about since they hadn't seen each other for only two hours. The silence was not uncomfortable, they wore smiles on their lips and their hair swayed in the breeze coming through the lowered windows.

"If your uncle sees me and finds out that we slept in the same bed, he'll think badly," she said as she climbed into his bed and snuggled against him.

"Let him think what he wants, I don't care," he said as she settled her head on his arm, "he'd be happy and everything. Your mother is not the only one who matches us," which was true. Some people in town, especially in high school, just assumed the two of them were a couple.

"Yeah."

He started stroking her head, or rather her hair, with the hand on the arm she was using as a pillow. The other was on her back. They were pressed against each other. He had his neck in front of her face, and his tattooed chest exposed. They both felt at last at peace, completely calm and ready to sleep if they wanted to, but they didn't want to, they wanted to enjoy this moment of being conscious.

"You could have fallen asleep smoking weed but you didn't, why?"

"You're my favourite drug," he dared to say. The night made everyone feel vulnerable and sensitive, and he was no exception. Maybe he shouldn't listen to the things that went through his mind at night, but there were times when he couldn't help it, and that was one of those times.

That phrase and him going to her home to tell hee that he needed to sleep with her definitely had to mean something, something good and important, but she couldn't assume that either if it didn't come out of his mouth in a more explicit way. She didn't want to get her hopes up, make an Oscar-worthy movie in her head, and then get the shock and the downer.

Luckily for her, Eddie spoke without her asking any questions.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you..."

"What's that?"

"The problem is... I'm afraid to tell you."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Eddie. I love you madly and I'm going to be there for you no matter what."

"I don't know how to express it either..."

"So, if you can't put it into words.... Express it with an action," she said, believing where he was going.

Emboldened by his best friend's words and the late hours of the night, he decided to move the hand on her back to her cheek. With his thumb he brushed her lips to find out exactly where they were, for they were in their room in complete darkness, unable to see each other even if they were inches away from each other. Then he raised her head slightly and bowed his head, and at last did what he had wanted to do for more than half a year: he kissed her, confessing at last his deep feelings for her. She quickly returned the kiss, while a big smile formed on her lips.

"So... Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes, for a long time," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"How long?"

"More than half a year ago."

"Well, it seems we're in sync even for that."

"Do you feel the same way I do?" He asked, surprised and confused but happy at the same time.

"How do you feel about me Eddie? Please tell me, I want to hear it come out of your mouth," she said, now she was caressing his cheek.

"I love you. You are my Arwen to my Aragorn. When I hear love songs I can't help but think of you. You make me so happy just to be by my side. You are beautiful in every way and I have so much fun with you. You are not only my best friend and the person I love the most after my uncle, you are the woman of my dreams and I think you are my soul mate" with every sentence he said she got more emotional and it was hard for her to hold back the urge to cry with happiness, while he was still not processing that he had just kissed her, that his kiss had been reciprocated and that he was finally telling her out loud what he'd been keeping quiet and so deep inside for so long, "and I can't wait to fucking graduate so I can start working a full time job and save up to get married and live on our own and together in our own house, our own home. ...Although any place is a home if you're there," he suddenly heard a sob and felt a drop fall on his arm, the one that was being her pillow. "_______?" he asked frightened with fear that he had completely screwed up.

"I love you so much," she said crying out of pure happiness, her heart couldn't fit in her chest from all the happiness she was feeling, "you have no idea how happy you make me right now."

"So you're crying from happiness again?"

"I couldn't cry for anything else," and now it was she who jumped up and kissed him. Then he hugged her tightly.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"You didn't even have to ask."

"I wanted to ask you, I've wanted that for a long time and to hear a yes for an answer from you," she smiled even more, almost laughing at what he had just said.

"Yes, silly, I do."

"Now I'm completely yours, more yours than ever, more than I've ever been."

"I'll say the same."

They kissed again, and then he moved his free hand to her pillowy arm, and took off one of the three rings he wore. He took off the skull-shaped one and handed it to her, leaving it on her hand. She could tell which ring it was by touch.

"I want you to have it from now on, as a token of my love and our relationship."

"Thank you," she said, putting it on her thumb, as it was too big on the rest of her fingers.

Little else happened after that, just a few more kisses, caresses and the occasional playful touch but nothing more. They were exhausted from the journey and finally felt at peace, ready to sleep now that they were together physically and romantically.

[whisperofsong]

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: Bob takes care of you after a long day.

Word Count: Approx. 3,082 words

Warnings: Language and explicit sexual content

Note: This piece was written for @attapullman ‘s International Bob Floyd Fucks Month celebration and intentionally posted on Lewis Pullman’s birthday. I adore our collective boyfriend and loved writing this to honor one of my favorite characters of his💛

____________________________________________

The rain patters against your windshield as the windshield wipers rhythmically glide back and forth, almost putting you in a trance. Your shoulders are slumped as you stare ahead and count the minutes until your car is once again in the driveway.

Work had been more stressful than usual. The incessant alerts signaling the arrival of new emails flooding your inbox. Additional things being asked of you despite your already taxing workload. Interruptions from your coworkers as you attempted to focus on completing the various tasks on your to-do list. Despite these challenges, you managed to accomplish a few things, but it wasn’t enough. And you feared that the week may only get worse.

When your tires meet the smooth pavement of your driveway and you pull the key out of the ignition, you remain in the car. The stillness and silence is a welcome respite from the pandemonium in the office. Your energy is almost nonexistent and you find yourself wincing when you look at the distance from your car to the front door. You eventually muster enough energy to grab your things and head inside.

Faint music and a pleasant aroma greet you and the man responsible for them is Bob Floyd. But Bob Floyd isn’t just any man. He’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend of a little over a year to be exact.

“Boyfriend” is almost an inadequate label for what Bob Floyd is to you. He’s the man who memorized your coffee order just so he can get it for you every Saturday morning. He indulges in your favorite TV shows alongside you and makes remarks that he’s confident will make you laugh. When you inevitably fall asleep in the middle of watching them, he doesn’t disturb you, but instead covers you in the coziest blanket you own because he knows you sleep more soundly on the couch. He’s the man who embraces you at the end of each day and whispers the most tender words while kissing you between each sentiment.

But as you stand in the tiny entryway of your home, your heart deflates because not even Bob’s presence can buoy you right now. Your chest is tight, your shoulders are throbbing, and your whole body feels heavy. When you enter the kitchen, Bob’s back faces you as he busies himself with stirring something on the stove while the comforting melody of “Silly Love Songs” surrounds you.

“Hey,” you say softly. Even your voice is strained.

He immediately turns around to face you, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, honey. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he says as he happily makes his way toward you. His strong arms engulf you and you sink into his warmth, his scent calming you in ways you can’t even describe. It’s one of his specialties. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, wishing you could permanently reside there.

“Hey.” He slightly pulls away while putting his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to get you to look at him. “Talk to me, honey.”

You slowly lift your head, reluctant to meet his gaze. There’s no use lying to him. He can read you well and therefore detect anything that seems amiss. “I had a bad day.” Your eyes travel downward, refusing to maintain eye contact. You’d prefer not to make this a big deal. Ideally, you’d prefer to curl up in bed, hibernate under the covers, and drift into a deep slumber where work can’t get to you.

Concern decorates Bob’s features as he furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head, preparing to prompt you further.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You release a long and labored sigh. “Eventually. But right now…I just…” You shake your head and peer down at your shoes.

He gently nudges your chin with his fingertips. “What do you need?”

Hesitantly, you lift your head once more, two sets of pleading eyes meeting each other. You chew on your lip, contemplating your response, before saying, “I need to not think. To turn my mind off.”

Bob’s quiet for a few beats as he mulls over your admission. “That’s what you really want?”

You’re momentarily stunned by the lower octave and rougher edge to his voice. You almost forget that he’s waiting for your confirmation, so you lightly nod in response, eyes locked with his own.

Wordlessly, Bob catches your jaw in his hands, his thumb slowly moving back and forth across your bottom lip in a tantalizing motion. After several sweeps of his thumb, he presses it firmly against you, silently requesting that you part your lips. You oblige him and as soon as you do, his thumb enters your mouth. Your tongue darts out to wet it and your lips wrap around him, closing your eyes to savor the way he pushes it farther into your mouth.

“Good girl. Just like that, honey.”

This elicits a whimper from you because he knows the effect his compliments have on you. When his thumb pulls out of your welcoming mouth, you find yourself thrumming with anticipation. Your heart is hammering against your chest and your toes are curling inside your shoes as you await his next move. It’s almost torturous.

He crouches down and carefully removes your shoes, one at a time, his eyes refusing to leave yours. He caresses your calves and his touch alone has you weak in the knees. Without warning, his hands grab the back of your thighs and he wraps your legs around his waist as he ascends the stairs with you in tow. Your hands play with the tufts of hair positioned at his nape as your chest fits comfortably against his.

Once you reach the bedroom, he gingerly lays you down on the bed, a hungry and determined look evident in his eyes.

Your hands begin to lift the hem of his t-shirt, but he stops you.

“No,” he objects in a low voice. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I wanna make you feel good, baby. No thinking. Just feeling.”

You shiver at his words. You’ve never been more eager to be intimate with him than you are at this moment.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His lips descend on your neck and a soft moan leaves your lips as he litters your neck with kisses, licks, and marks that are proof of his love for you. Although you try to remain still, you can’t help yourself from lifting your chest toward him, silently imploring for more of his touch. Needing more, more, more.

He chuckles against you, understanding your plea. “So needy for me, baby. Such a greedy thing.”

“Bob. Please.” You’re growing impatient and have no right to feel this way. He’s just getting started, after all.

He leans up on his knees and stares down at you laid out beneath him, sporting a smirk that seems to imply he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His hand expertly dives under your dress, gradually climbing until he’s reached your stomach. When his hand finds the cups of your bra, he squeezes each one, but the fabric prevents you from enjoying the full sensation.

“You know better than to hide them from me,” he chides.

“I-I have to wear a bra or my nipples will show through my dress.”

“Mmmm.” He nods in agreement. “Because no one deserves to see them. These are for me only, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Only for you, Bob.”

“Sit up for me,” he orders gently, guiding you so that he’s able to support you in this position. As he pulls down your zipper, he plants several kisses on the side of your forehead, his sweetness almost overwhelming after the day you endured. His touch grounding you when you need it most.

Bob peels the fabric from your body, helping you remove your arms from the confining sleeves. He pulls it down your body and you use your feet to kick off the now rumpled dress on the bedroom floor. Before you can resume your position beneath him, he deftly unclasps your sleek black bra and flicks his skillful tongue against your exposed, peaked nipple, causing you to fall back against the mattress.

Your unabashed moans fill the room as your fingernails dig into the thick comforter. You’ve imagined moments like these on nights when you were alone and Bob was deployed miles and miles away with email being your sole form of contact. But knowing that you have him here, that this is real, is enough to send you careening over the edge.

His tongue is strategically rolling your pointed nipple back and forth and you find yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself because his touch is worth the wait. When he moves to your other nipple, your hands card through his hair and your legs wrap around his waist because you need to be as close to him as possible. This closeness allows you to feel his bottom half and his erection is prominent, reminding you that he’s as turned on as you are right now.

His mouth travels down your stomach as it leaves wet and somewhat sloppy kisses in its wake. Your nipples are now exposed to the cool air and missing the heat of his mouth, but its current destination is enough to dull your disappointment.

His nose nudges the lacy edge of your black panties, but he doesn’t rush. His sincere eyes meet yours questioningly.

“Can I eat you out, sweetheart?”

“Please, Bobby. Take care of me.”

“Always.” He presses a soft kiss to your clothed center before tugging the fabric to the side and dipping his tongue between your soaked folds. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You try to cross your legs, a little self-conscious about your body’s response to his minimal touch, but he protests.

“Don’t hide from me. Please. Don’t ever hide from me.”

Your legs fall to the side and he tugs your panties down and flings them over his shoulder. The sight of him positioned between your legs with his slightly askew glasses, perfectly styled hair, and enthusiastic gaze is something to behold. His strong hands grasp your thighs and his tongue laps at you fervently. Within seconds, you’re bucking against him and he holds you down, wanting to take his time in tasting you. His tongue enters you and you yelp in surprise as pleasure surges throughout your body.

His tongue moves upwards and swirls around your clit before sucking on it as if it’s the greatest flavor of candy he’s ever tasted. You can’t imagine it ever being any better than this, yet he always manages to prove you wrong the next time. You’ve never been so ecstatic to be wrong.

You feel your orgasm approaching and as much as you want to wait until he’s seated inside you, you can’t garner the strength to tell him to stop. Instead, you pray that he doesn’t stop because you want this. You need this. Less than a minute later, your release arrives. “You’re making me come, Bob. I can’t-“ Your words abruptly trail off and you feel wetness pool out of you, but Bob doesn’t change his motions. His tongue accepts everything you’re giving him with enthusiasm.

When Bob pulls away and meets your satiated, dazed face, his glasses are fogged and his mouth is glistening.

“Bobby.” With this singular word, his mouth is on yours in an instant and he’s kissing you passionately, his tongue clashing against your own. You bring him to your level and clutch him to your chest.

“Not done with you yet,” he growls and this intensifies the heat blooming in your chest along with the achiness thundering between your legs.

He swiftly removes his jeans and t-shirt, but before he strips completely, he guides your hand to the massive bulge that’s barely contained by his briefs. “That’s what you do to me. Every day.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth, even though you’re cognizant of how easily you’re able to turn him on. Though somehow, he seems bigger this time, if that’s even possible.

“Need you inside of me,” you whine impatiently, growing frustrated without his closeness, without his body claiming your own.

“Can’t be premature, honey,” he reminds you. He leans over your exposed body to fetch the vial of lube in the drawer of his nightstand. Although it’s no longer painful, there’s still a burning stretch that accompanies the first few minutes of him entering you. The lube reduces your discomfort and even though you prefer not to prolong the timeframe when Bob’s not inside of you, you know you’re always grateful for it once he’s where he belongs.

He strokes his length with a generous handful of the sticky substance and you watch him, mesmerized at the sight of his mouth-watering, glistening cock. He’s a delicious eight inches with a plush head that always hits the right spots.

“Spread your legs for me, honey,” he instructs sweetly and you notice the blush that colors his cheeks when you heed his command. Even after all this time.

Bob languidly strokes his cock against your soaking clit and through your drenched folds. “Fuck,” he mutters, his eyes scrunching shut. “You feel so good like this. Can’t get over how wet you are.”

“I-I’m sorry. Can’t help it,” you admit as you find yourself barely holding on.

“Don’t apologize. I love it. Love that you’re so needy for me.” He continues sliding his dick up and down your clit and your hands grasp his forearms as you try to steel yourself. You glance at his dick, now covered in a combination of lube and your arousal, and the way it moves against you in a frenzied manner while his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. The sight is so erotic that your body begins to shake. It’s already happening again.

“B…Bob.”

“Come for me. Give it to me and don’t hold back,” he says breathlessly.

A sharp cry pierces the otherwise silent room as a deluge of pleasure consumes you. You relish every second of it, riding the heady wave of euphoria until it’s gone and you’re nothing but mush.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically just as Bob moves so that he hovers above you. “You’re definitely ready for me now,” he shares with a shy smile despite the events that just took place. He lines himself up and fleeting eyes meet yours to confirm he can proceed. Your fingertips graze his cheek with a feather-light touch and the two of you exchange earnest smiles.

Bob slowly pushes himself inside of you and the burning stretch that’s accompanied the other times is almost absent. Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he exhales deeply and shuts his eyes in concentration. You know he’s trying to focus in an effort to make this last as long as possible.

You brush the stray tendrils of hair that fall in his face aside and he looks up at your touch. “It’s okay, Bob. You can move. Just wanna feel you.”

He wordlessly shifts forward and this singular action practically steals the breath from your lungs. He’s so deep and it wasn’t until he reached that spot that you realized how much you yearned for this. This intimacy, this contact, this unparalleled devotion.

Bob inches out only to enter you again and you’re clawing at and clutching at the expanse of his broad shoulders.

“You have the sweetest little pussy. Being inside you feels like home.”

All you can do is make incoherent noises because his sinful movements are robbing you of your voice. Of your ability to do much of anything besides bask in this glorious session of lovemaking. He directs your chin downward. “Look at that. The way you respond to me.”

Watching him disappear and reappear over and over again causes your head to spin. You’re so wet that a prominent squelching noise seems to echo off the walls. Bob notices it, too, because he’s biting his lip and hastening his movements.

“You trust me?” he asks in a serious tone.

“Always,” you reply.

He takes your legs and places each one on his opposite shoulder. He then resumes his movements, but picks up the pace, and this angle causes your vision to blur, colors fading in and out.

“Beautiful,” he punctuates with a particularly emphatic thrust. “You’re so beautiful,” he gushes.

“Honey…honey,” you moan, a victim of his tender words in tandem with every thrust and twist of his hips. You clench around him and Bob shouts, unable to contain himself.

“Close, honey. So. Close.” His voice is huskier, tired, and indicative that he’s in need of a release.

You clench around him again and this time, he freezes above you before a final thrust of his hips that ends with his seed spilling into and dripping out of you. He’s spent and already gave you two orgasms, but this doesn’t stop him from getting you to the finish line a third time.

“You don’t…you d-“

“I made a promise to take care of you, baby. I never break my promises, especially when I’ve made them to you.” He bends down and kisses you, communicating with each stroke of his tongue. You’re important to me. I’ll always take care of you. I love you.

In the middle of your kisses, your third orgasm overtakes you and your release soaks his cock, the two of you a complete mess from your activities. When you come down from your high, Bob rolls over and pulls you to his chest that is now covered in a sheen of sweat, peppering your forehead with kisses.

“Thank you for that,” you whisper bashfully against his chest. “That was amazing.”

He tips your chin so that you’re face to face now. His eyes are soft again and he’s looking at you with such reverence that you think you might cry. “You’re amazing,” he tells you. He tangles his fingers in your hair as his eyes search your face. “Was that what you needed?”

“It was better,” you correct with a kiss on his nose.

A broad grin stretches across his handsome face. “Anything for my best girl.”

Several minutes pass before you speak against, the afterglow of your lovemaking too precious to interrupt.

“Um…Bob?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Did you ever turn the stove off?”

“Oops,” he says sheepishly, causing both of you to erupt into laughter as your naked bodies intertwine and hearts beat in unison.

@bradshawsbaby @luminousnotmatter @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @bobgasm @delopsia @up-thereinthesky @floydsmuse @roosterforme @ryebecca

[f1version]

little things — request a driver + prompt or a song and i will write some headcanons

daniel ricciardo + fantasy (kali uchis, don toliver)

FANTASY ★ DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gf! reader ( she/her ) word count: 877

2k celebration ★ navigation

You met him in May 2018, out with your friends in Monaco after the Grand Prix. Friends of friends led you to the winner’s party, which led the winner’s eyes to follow you all night.

Daniel was overconfident that night, introducing himself as “the man of your dreams”, flirting shamelessly, and getting you to dance with him. Begging for you not to lose your focus on him, becoming obsessed with how you talked, looked, and reacted to him. The Aussie didn’t know if it was the alcohol but the night he was supposed to be the center of the universe, you became his.

“Is it okay if I ask for your number, Sweetheart?” He had been planning on asking you via a joke, but nervousness finally caught up to him. He was the luckiest man alive when you said yes. 

Then he became a constant in your life, date after date, touch after touch. It all felt natural, learning about the other (from globally known facts to your deepest secrets, from mind to body) made you fall for the other even harder. 

An official relationship was no surprise to your friends, Scotty being the most excited from Dan’s side. “I’m telling ya mate, he didn’t shut up about you for a second”

He gave you all and you happily received it: The hugs, the kisses, the jokes, the dates, the lazy days, the jewelry, the flowers, the sweet nothings on your ear, the dirty obscure ones in bed. He worshiped you and it was everything.

It felt like a fantasy sometimes, hidden in your apartment in Monaco or his home in Perth. So far yet so close to F1.

But that’s the catch, isn't it? The flaw everyone sees in these relationships. Daniel is an F1 driver, a traveler. Sometimes, schedules create disharmony, small arguments come around, and busy days make you wish you were lazy in bed together.

Both of you have learned that there are a lot of things that make a relationship tougher than it is. There are times when it’ll get lonely in your apartment or his hotel room, and others when you will fall asleep laughing at each other’s jokes. 

It never broke you down, you always tried to pull the other up. 

One time, when the distance was unbearable, you ended up arguing about why Daniel had to change his toothbrush over Facetime. “You never fucking understand me!” “Well help me fucking do it, sweetheart!” It had been stupid but both of you were frustrated, overwhelmed by it all. The call fell quiet for 12 minutes after the fighting ceased, both laying in bed, thinking and looking at the ceiling. “Baby,” “Yeah?” “Tell me why you’re mad at me”

You talk it out, that’s how you get through it. Communication has always been key, voicing your concerns most of the time, and doing your best in listening to the other (it isn’t completely fight-proof but it works).

Eventually, you even have an emoji system over text for tougher and busier days, it lets the other know when you don’t feel well or if one is mad, doesn’t want to talk, or just has to spend a bit more time at work.

You close distance with long calls, loving (and a bit dirty) texts, sweet presents, daily photo dumps, and more. It’s like you are right by the other’s side.

Daniel also put a lot of effort into the traveling bit, when he couldn't fly you out with him, he would try to get back to you as soon as he was allowed. His most reliable route to leave fast (from f1 weekends) is Max, the man is always arriving late and leaving early. Danny found his balance, sharing it with you, and it made the situation improve by a mile.

When you are together, you are proof that love usually triumphs over anger or bitterness. Sharing moments you will never get tired of.

Kisses down your back are something you will never get tired of. Daniel loving you so deeply he brings tears to your eyes at night, pleasure filling your heart will never be tiring. “I love you” will never get old. 

“So, that obsession keeps your bond healthy,” Seb told Daniel once, and he sort of believed his ex-teammate was right. He wouldn’t exactly call it an obsession but you were someone he couldn’t live without, someone he wanted to drown himself in for the rest of his life (yet not an obsession, he said) (or maybe yes, he was obsessed) (“in a healthy way” “sure Danny”)

You weren’t safe from it though. You couldn’t stop talking about him, thinking about him, or cheering on him. Race weekends were your safe haven, watching his interviews and putting on his point of view. Sending hundreds of texts and selfies after, no matter the result.

He read those texts, looked at those pictures and, even if he had DNFed, he felt better. You loved him unconditionally and that drove him crazy (pun intended)

At the end of the day, you loved, worshiped, and treasured the other. Yes, you made mistakes, but you made it right eventually. 

That’s it, that’s the end of the hcs <3

[hockeymenarehot]

Hiiiii your fics that I have read so far are literally AMAZING. Ngl your my new fav author on here my goodness those stories were making my stomach turn.

Could you please do a Tom Kaulitz 2007 smut, him and reader have to share a room unwillingly. The reader starts playing with his hair and he is low-key into it 😋 You take it from there queen because you are so creative it’s crazy.

THANK YOU SO MUCH 😘😘

"One Bed". Feat. Tom Kaulitz

YES! of course i can do this! i'm glad you enjoy my writing! i also kind of tweaked this a bit to go with another request for an enemies to lovers vibe w/ tom...honestly i love the one bed trope!! (sorry, this is coming out later than intended!!)

summary: not too long ago, you caught your (ex) boyfriend Tom at the bar with another woman. you were pretty pissed, and you still are. but you two agreed to travel together to see a mutual friend as long as you stay separated. however, you did not anticipate the room shortage...

warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, hotel sex, p in v, unprotected, slight edging, overstimulation, use of toys, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), praise, kinda mean Tom, he's sweet sometimes though?, cervix fucking, spanking, squirting, pretty much brat taming, creampie, you think he cheated but he didn't

"What the hell do you mean there's not enough rooms?! I paid for two!" your patience was wearing thin with the poor desk attendant who claimed there was a "room shortage for the holidays". Bullshit. "Ma'am, I've already explained this to you. We overbook expecting some cancelations. It's better for business this way." The woman at the desk was making sure to keep her distance from you. Your stance looked like you were about to leap over the desk and pounce on her at any second now. "Good for business-!?" You were cut short by none other than Tom Kaulitz, your cheating ex-boyfriend, lightly grasping your arm, afraid that if he put too much pressure you might seriously swing at him. You gave him the nastiest glare, he swore it pierced his soul. "Hey, there's no use in yelling at this poor lady. Let's just go to our room. It'll only be a night. I can sleep on the floor." He spoke in a gentle tone, this managed to ease your nerves a bit. You removed your sprawled hands from the desk, giving the desk attendant one final glare. You were also not too thrilled that he took her side. You grabbed your key and made your way to the elevator, Tom trailing behind.

You and Tom hadn't spoken a word since getting to your room. It truly was a small, one bed hotel room. Right when you set your bag down on the (quite hard) couch, you flopped down onto it with a exaggerated groan. "Okay I think you need to calm down. I get it, you would rather not be doing this. But can't you take a day to-" You quickly cut him off, still angry with him. You were angry he had the nerve to tell you of all to "calm down". This made your anger bubble back up. "Calm down? Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down when you're here? How am I supposes to calm down after what you did to me!? I don't want to fucking hear it from you. Go back downstairs and sleep with the little hotel girl from earlier since you like to take her side so much. Not that you ever took my side." Okay, admittedly you were being pretty petty, but you didn't care. Not when the events that transpired were so recent. About 1 month ago you caught Tom at a bar giggling with another girl because apparently he hadn't realized that's the bar you were having your girls night at. You screamed at him, threw a drink at his face, and hadn't spoken to him since. Tom stared at you for a second, he was trying to let you be angry at him. Because truthfully, he shouldn't have been so sneaky when he honestly wasn't doing anything wrong. He was at that bar to catch up with his brothers wife, but mentioning that fact would probably make you begin to spiral even more. He really didn't want another drink in his face. So, for now he decided to let you scream and yell at him all you wanted, even if the words you spoke couldn't be farther from the truth.

It had been about 5 minutes of you yelling, and you were now laying on the bed quite literally sobbing your little heart out. You couldn't take it, all of your pent up emotions were bursting out and making an ugly mess of you. You thought about how this was probably the reason why he decided to cheat on you. Tom just sat on the edge of the bed, lightly stroking your thigh. You apparently hadn't noticed, but your body was subconsciously leaning into his touch. Once your rapid breathing had slowed and your tears dried up leaving dried makeup streaks on your face, he finally spoke. "I didn't cheat on you." You almost laughed, "What?" He drew in a large breath before he continued, still treading lightly. "You never gave me a chance to talk. But trust me, I don't blame you. Please hear me out on this." Once he had gotten your silent sign of approval, he slowly continued, "That woman? That was my Bills wife. She was just in the area, and I wanted the chance to catch up with her. Ask her how things were going. All I talked about was you, every single question she had, the answer was always you. She even recorded a video on my phone for you of her saying hi. Please, believe me. I know I shouldn't have been so secretive, I know that's my fault. But just please. Here's the video." Tom pulled out his phone to show you the video of who you now noticed was Bill's wife in that same exact bar saying hi to you, and explaining how she hoped all was well with you.

Right after the video ended, your heart dropped so low as you looked up at him it almost fell out of your ass. I mean, you had met Bill's wife before, but you hadn't gotten a good glimpse of her at the bar. Only of the back of her head. You knew she was a nice woman, and you were starting to realize that you probably should've let Tom explain himself instead of throwing a drink in his face. But when he pulled the "Baby, it's not what it looks like" line, you almost lunged at him.

This whole thing just added more on top of the emotions you were already feeling, and you began to cry again. "Tom," you shook out as you pulled him into an embrace, finally being able to feel him again "I'm sorry." You swear you had never held onto anything so tight in your life, and he was seriously about to crush you as well. But it didn't really matter. All that mattered was, yeah, you both fucked up but at least you still had each other. That night was a long night of exchanging explanations, and setting up boundaries as to how to deal with situations like this again. As well as how to work on managing your emotions...

It was getting pretty late, and you had just came out of the shower to find Tom laying down on the small couch. "Are you serious? You don't have to do that... Come sleep with me." Tom turned over to look at you, a bit surprised you could forgive so quickly. That had never been apart of your personality. But he was exempt from this, he assumed. "You sure? If you don't-" You stopped him, "I'm sure." and gave him a sweet smile. The both of you crawled into bed, and got into the position you normally get into. He placed the side of his face on your breasts and you used one of your hands to play with his hair, feeling him relax into you. He whispered out a small "I love you" that you almost didn't catch. To let him know you heard him, you craned your neck down and pulled him into a sweet kiss. Well, the kiss started sweet.

Tom had been left to just his hand, lotion, and some shitty magazines for way too long now. He missed you. A lot. What was supposed to be a simple sweet kiss now had your back to him and him aggressively thrusting his cock into you. You let out a string of moans, trying to stabilize yourself by putting your hands on his thighs. His chest was flush with your back, and his thrusts were relentless. "Tom!" He knew you loved this angle, it allowed you to feel every inch of him buried deep inside you. "Yeah? That feel good, y/n?" One of his hands came down to rub at your clit. "Think I've given you enough time to throw your little tantrum, gotta put whores like you back in their place." His minstrations had you a moaning mess, and you could already feel your orgasm flatly approaching. "Ah-! P-please!" Your pussy clenched tightly around him, a sign he knew you were about to cum. Right when your soft walls began to flutter he completely stopped all motion. "W-what?" You were confused, and you whined at the loss of stimulation. "You forget? Brats like you have to ask nicely to cum. Then I'll consider." He landed a harsh slap on both cheeks of your ass, causing you to his. "Im sorry! Please! Please make me cum!" He rubbed over both red marks, attempting to slightly soothe them before beginning his pace again. This time, he was impatient. He flipped you over onto your back, sprawling you out onto the bed before he pushed in and out of you at a fast pace. You could feel every vein on his cock at this angle, and his tip was practically brushing up against your cervix. The painful pleasure was almost too much, and you just barely remembered to ask to cum. "P-please, can I cum? Please, please please..." You were just babbling nonsense at this point, which made him laugh at the leverage he had over you. He leaned down, nipping the shell of your ear before he said "Cum for me, baby" and that was all the clearance you needed before you gushed all over his cock with a high pitched moan. All of your limbs twitched as he helped you ride out your high, your mind melting back down to earth. Your brain was still fuzzy, and you didn't catch how Tom leaned over to open the beside drawer, pulling out a small bullet vibrator. Once he waved it over top of you, your eyes widened. You obviously could think enough to understand what you were about to be subjected to, but not enough to question why it was in that drawer.

"Please" You mewled put, not sure if you were begging for him to use it on you or begging him not to. Either way, he turned it on, using it on the lowest setting as he rubbed it over your nipples. "Mh!" You let out a satisfied grunt at the stimulation being pressed to your nipples. Tom always worshipped every part of your body, and tonight he had neglected your nipples. The attention they were now receiving left you wanting more. You relaxed, parting your legs and letting the spread across the roughness of the hotel sheets. Tom trailed the small vibrator down the valley of your stomach, towards your already swollen clit. "Yeah, take it like the good slut you are. Just my cumdump, aren't you?" You nodded your head in agreement, making the best "Mhm" sound you could with how fried your brain was. You both knew this wasn't true. If you both were being completely honest, he was at your mercy. Tom pressed the vibrator up against your clit, and immediately started thrusting back into you. "Ah! Wait! T-Tom! Too much!" He laughed at you almost mockingly "You can do it. My sweet baby can do it." The way his tone could change at the drop of a hat only turned you on even more, and his sugar coated words coaxed you on to obeying him. "Ok... ok, just for -fuck- you." "Yeah, thats what I fucking thought." It didn't take too much longer for you to reach your high, and by the way you were squeezing him he knew, too. Tom decided you'd been through enough tonight and let you off easy this time. "My baby gonna cum on my cock? Come on, make a mess on me. Cum with me." Those words immediately flipped the switch inside of you, letting your pussy twitch around him and gush everywhere, making a mess all over his abdomen. Tom thrusted into you as deep as he could possibly go before cumming inside you. "Yeah, gonna take all the cum I give you." And you did, you took every last drop, squeezing him to milk him for everything he was worth.

The night ended with an exchange of soft kisses, giggles, whispers of sweet nothings, and a hot bath to ease your poor muscles. You might need a wheelchair for tomorrow.

Before you two left, Tom left a note on the bed thanking the hotel room attendant for bluffing for him, and left her some extra cash. He also apologized for the mess.

a/n: this was supposed to be released last night but I had other things going on! so sorry! but I hope you enjoyed! requests are still open, and if you've already sent one just know it's sitting in my drafts. remember to take care of yourself!

[leclercsredhelmet]

Florida 𓆉 Logan Sargeant

A/N: Hi there! This is a little Logan blurb that popped into mind a few days ago and I decided to post it because it’s Miami GP week. Sorry if it’s short but I hope you enjoy it!

“What a crash, what a rush, fuck me up, Florida”

The summer sun was bright and beamed down. Your skin was hot to the touch but you didn’t mind it; the tan would be immaculate afterwards and it wasn’t like you weren’t used to the sun. Lying on the towel and a book held high above you, the waves crash softly and you let out a peaceful sigh.Droplets of cold water suddenly fall on your face, you scrunch your nose at the temperature.Placing the bookmark on the page you close the book and put it inside your bag. Fingers lower your sunglasses and you look up at Logan who was looking down at you.

Laughing he let a few more droplets of water fall on your face. You giggle, “Lo that’s our drinking water.” “I know I just wanted to get your attention for a bit,” he replies while tickling your nose. Smiling and rolling your eyes you turn around and sit up, Logan crouches down. “Get in the water with me, you’re almost done with the book anyways. Por favor” he pleads. Of course you couldn’t resist when he used your native language, obliging you to stand up.

Grinning Logan grabs your hand and breaks into a sprint forcing you to follow him. As your bare feet come into contact with the sand you can’t help but giggle and follow him. Without breaking contact you wade into the ocean and once deep enough you dive under the cold water, hand in hand you swim a short distance before resurfacing to catch air.

Logan gives you a look full of pure love and adoration, “What?” You ask him as you kick lightly, “Nothing,” he says smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that then?” You counter. He just swims towards you and grabs your waist, “You’re so gorgeous,” he says and you just laugh and your arms find their residence around his neck. You kiss him softly, his lips taste like sea salt. “I missed doing this with you,it’s my favorite thing, ” he said. Happily you hummed, “What about it?” You asked and Logan tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “The sun, my girl, the waves. It’s all I need” he said and you laughed. The two of you swam for a while more before drying off. Packing up your things Logan carried the bags and grabbed your hand swinging it back and forth. You giggled, “Can I drive now Lo?” You asked. Logan smiled, “Of course baby.”

Logan tossed the keys and you caught them, twirling them around your finger you opened the door and climbed in. Turning the ignition you picked the music while Logan tossed the bags in the back and climbed in. With the top down you drive down the streets of Miami as you sing along. Florida by Taylor Swift came on and Logan raised the volume, smiling you both belted out the lyrics. Both you were out on the balcony looking out at the sunset, Logan had his arm around you and your head rested against his shoulder while your fingertips trace lazy patterns up and down his arm.

“Days like these make me want to not return to London,” you say and Logan hums in agreement. “We can come back for winter break and stay longer,” he says before kissing the top of your head. “I like that idea, let’s just stay here for a bit before getting on any more planes” you reply with a laugh. “Please, we need to stay in a single place for more than a week” Logan replies and you both let out a laugh as you continue to watch the sun go down and disappear among the buildings.

Traveling with Logan is something you thoroughly enjoy, but days like this when you can relax before his home race and have some alone time are precious. While neither of you can’t deny you love London, Florida will always be home to you two and any chance you get to come down here doesn’t go to waste.

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

6 - Jake's Heart

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: SMUT!!! oral (f receiving) protected!sex, emphasis on consent

A/N: Jake's dreams come true! They really do!

Playlist

NEW! Taglist: @mrsevans90

If you'd like to be added to the tag list (on this one or any of my fics!) just shoot me a message! Please enjoy this one! I had fun writing it, especially the banter between them!

His heart was beating out of his chest as he stepped into the dim overhead light by the front steps of Sam's house. He was vibrating with anticipation. He waited, as he didn't want to ring the doorbell and he was going to shoot her a message but she must've known he was already here. She probably heard his truck. She swung the door open and she was dressed in a pair of flowy rose pink yoga pants and a black crop top with a band name that he wasn't familiar with across her breasts. Her perfect breasts.

“I thought we were going out to dinner?” He asked and she grabbed for his hand and pulled him inside.

“Mom ordered a fuck load of Chinese from my favorite place so I thought we could eat here and maybe watch a movie.” She said as she led him to the kitchen island where all the food was out. It was a little after seven pm and the house was quiet aside from his keys rattling and his boots on the hardwood floor.

“Anyone home?” He asked as she sat. She patted the spot next to her and he sat, as she placed a box in front of him. He opened it, finding orange chicken. He licked his lips. “Ooh I love orange chicken. Gimme some rice too.”

She smirked and placed a container of rice in front of him. “Yeah my brother and sister go to their rooms and do homework and eat in there. We moved dad downstairs into the old guest room. We have some other stuff to move but Mav came and helped with the bed this morning.”

“Ah, that's why he was late. We had Warlock instructing today. Crazy to think we head off in about two weeks. None of us have flown a complete mission yet....” He said softly, eyes glanced over at her, studying her expression, trying to gauge her state of mind. 

“How long will you be gone for?” She asked, a flat tone covering the usual cadence of her voice. 

“If everything goes to plan, probably about a week.” He said, taking a few more bites of rice, then chicken. He noticed Sam sigh and take another deep breath in. He wondered If hearing he would only be gone for a week was comforting to her. 

“Well, just come home safe, okay? I mean that for everyone...but especially you.” Sam said and she bumped her shoulder into Jake’s gently and smiled. He swallowed, and wiped his mouth before leaning over into her space. Her brows knitted in the middle as she closed the distance between their lips. It was a soft kiss, and his lips were warm on hers, and she could taste the spices from the chicken when they both relaxed and let their tongues tangle with each other's. Jake placed his fork down, and reached up to cup her cheeks with his hands. Her hands met his chest, intrigued by the silky fabric of the black athletic tank he wore. Her fingers danced over the taut muscles of his chest and deepened the kiss. One of his hands slipped down to her neck, then between her breasts, coming to find out she was not wearing a bra. He steadied her, mouth still covering hers, as he took a handful, the most perfect handful, of one of her beautiful breasts. He massaged it for a moment before lazily dropping his hand to her waist, where her exposed skin was warm and smooth. He was the one to break the kiss, glancing down out of embarrassment. He felt like a teenager who didn’t know what to do next.

“Um...sorry...I just...” Jake stammered and Sam slid off her seat and stepped between his legs. She pulled him down for another kiss and his hands traveled around her waist, pulling her in close. When she paused and looked up into those pretty sage green eyes of his, she smiled, her lids lowering seductively. 

“Are you nervous, Jake?” She asked and he smirked.

“What gave you...uh...that...impression?” He asked, his voice unsteady. She chuckled and pulled away from him, letting her fingers run down his biceps and then down to his hands, tugging at him to follow her. He raised a brow. “Are we about to fuck?” 

“Do you want to do that, Jake? Because that's kinda why I wanted to stay home tonight. It wasn't just for the Chinese food.” She said as she led him toward the couch. 

‘We're gonna do it on your couch? With people home?” He asked as he hesitated slightly. She nodded and picked up the remote and turned the volume up a little on the TV and used that same remote to turn the lights off in the living room and the kitchen.

“I hope you have a condom.” She said, pushing him onto the couch and climbing atop his lap. Her hands met his chest and he stretched up to coax her into another round of hot, open mouthed kissing. Jake's brain was almost satisfied with that. One of his favorite things in bed was kissing. Anywhere, anything, for as long as possible. He preferred to explore the feminine form with his lips over everything else. While his brain was satiated, his cock was not. 

“I keep a fresh one in my wallet.” He laughed and she scoffed at him. “I'm just kidding. I do have one in my pocket though. Y'know...Hoping but not expecting.” 

There was a pause between them, as they stared into each other's eyes. That moment, there was an unspoken agreement forged, and a glint of lust passed between them.

“Jake...I do really like you...” Sam admitted, as she shifted above him. He let his hands rest on her thighs, and this made Sam relax into him a bit more. Jake's heart was working double time as he gazed up at the prettiest set of chocolate brown eyes he'd ever seen. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed before this, he certainly had, but in this particular moment, he realized he was disgustingly in love with Sam. But he wasn't going to say that...

“I...really like you too...Sam.” He said softly as his hands traveled up to her exposed stomach again. “And while I'm a bit of a whore...I feel like we should maybe have our first time somewhere...quieter? More private?” He asked, leaning up to graze his lips over her jawline. She laughed, a lighthearted one, and she slid away from him, off his lap and offered her hand. He took it and she pulled him up.

“Is that what you want? You don’t want to parade me around and show me off?” She asked and she twirled around playfully. Jake smirked as he followed her up the stairs to her room. He noticed there were several rooms and they walked past two where the doors were shut. Jake laughed and then flinched, realizing how loud he’d been.

“Nah, You’re my dirty little secret, honeybun.” He whispered his hands connecting with her hips. She kept tempting him closer and closer to her room, which was at the end of the hall. “And no, I don't want your family walkin’ in on us fucking.”

“Is that right, your dirty little secret , huh?” She said, half-lidded eyes and a lascivious smirk to match. Jake pressed in closer as they crossed the threshold to her room. It was plain, but he wasn’t surprised that everything was shades of pink. Not a room that he would be caught dead in, but for her, he would be. Her bed had curtains that were drawn much like some sort of Renaissance bed chamber. 

She turned him, walking him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. She took a moment and went to close her door. He spread his hands wide on the sheets on either side of him, leaning back slightly as he admired the way her hips swayed as she walked back to him. She stood in front of him, placing her hands on either side of his neck as she glanced down through hooded chocolate brown. He spread his legs and drew her in with nothing but his pretty green eyes.

“That better, shy boy?” She asked and he smiled up at her. 

“What made you think I want anyone to see what I'm gonna do with you? Do I really give off that?” He murmured, tugging her onto his lap and connecting his lips to hers. 

“Public displays of affection seem like your thing for sure.” Sam giggled. Jake's lips traveled from hers to an earlobe, which he gently sucked into his mouth. His hands rubbed up and down her thighs.

“Well, then next time we're in public, I'll affection the shit out of you . How's that sound?” Jake asked, demanding her lips meet again and their tongues explored each other's. 

“Jake...” Sam sighed into his mouth as he ran his fingers up under her shirt. He broke their kiss just for a few moments so he could focus on how silky smooth her skin was underneath his hands and how they fit along her curves. His eyes fluttered shut and she watched his expression melt into pure bliss as those same hands that piloted a fighter jet at supersonic speeds, gently brushed over the soft skin of her thighs and the round swells of her ass. It was as though he hadn’t touched a woman in years. It was like he was feeling all of this for the first time. But really what it came down to was Jake’s feelings for her that were making him act this way. He didn’t want to force her into this. He wouldn’t dare beg her for sex. But something had clicked between the two of them enough now that Sam was offering. Jake had to take what he could get, because he wasn’t guaranteed the next time, no matter how he felt.

“Don't you worry, pretty girl, I'll take real good care of you.” He said, leaning in to press his lips to hers. Sam felt a surge of electricity between them, that charge going right to the butterflies in her stomach and turning them frantic. Jake on the other hand felt like a coiled spring, ready to explode, the pent up testosterone coming to the surface. He pulled a hand from under her shirt and snaked it around the back of her neck, holding her firm to his lips. His tongue begged to tangle with hers, and his kisses became messy, like he was drunk, but he was just buzzed on the feeling of her in his lap. 

Sam’s thighs tightened, pushing her center away from the bulge in his pants. He whimpered at the loss of her warmth against him and with pleading green eyes, he gazed up at her. 

“You gonna tell me you’ll be the best sex of my life, pretty boy ?” She asked, her tone devilish as she wound her arms around the back of his neck. His gaze grew more feral, as he captured her lips with his again.

“Don’t have to tell you.” He murmured as his hands went for her hips again. His lips connected with her neck “Just gonna show you.”

His cock had already been hard from the moment he walked through the door that night, but now it was unbearable. His jeans were entirely too tight and he was so fucking close to where he wanted to be, yet so far away. Why the fuck he wore jeans tonight of all nights, he didn't know. Sam did him the honor and the favor of unzipping them. That at least provided some relief, but it allowed more of her arousal to be felt since the only barriers were his boxers and her sweatpants. She didn't have anything underneath. He'd already felt for the waistband of some sort of panties and there wasn't one.

Jake laid on his back, pulling her down over the top of him, but he didn't stop there. He rolled to the left, so that he was now above her, and he hiked her legs up so that they rested against the toned, tight muscles of his thighs, which she could feel flexing underneath his jeans. His jeans which he backed off the bed to shove down his legs, and he couldn't have waited any longer to get off. He climbed back over her and thrust his hips toward her, so that she could feel how hard he was through his boxers. She bit her lip and groaned as she reached, nails out, for his chest. She dragged them down and then grabbed for the hem of his shirt and pushed it up, and he took over the rest of the way, wrestling it off as quick as he could. There was a jingling now that his shirt was off and Sam picked her head up to watch what he was doing. 

“Hang on a sec.” He said, jumping off the bed once more. He reached for his jeans pocket that had been on the floor and pulled out a condom wrapped in purple, which he put between his teeth. Before putting his weight fully on the bed again, he reached for the waistband of her sweatpants and slowly pulled them down, green eyes locked on hers. 

“Fuck, what a sight.” She thought...or did she say that out loud? Her cheeks heated as Jake smirked, the condom still between his teeth, and a brow raised in intrigue as he slid her pants all the way off. No, she said it out loud.

“What a sight indeed.” Jake murmured through his teeth, tone lust filled as his eyes traveled down to her pretty pink pussy . As he stared in awe, as if he'd never seen a woman's vagina before, Sam realized what the jingling was. His tags. His fucking dog tags. Hanging from his neck, between his pecs, over a dusting of hair. She hadn't even realized all the times she'd seen him without a shirt on, which were a handful now, that he had hair on his chest. They were in limbo for a few moments while they just admired each other's bodies, Sam staring at his chest, and Jake mesmerized by the beautifully groomed area between her legs.

“I don't know why I was expectin’ anything less down here. You're so perfect.” He growled, taking the condom wrapper from his mouth and placing it on her stomach, and leaning down to place a soft kiss to her clit, which startled Sam. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, hooking her legs over his shoulders, and buried his tongue in her folds. Sam gasped and put her hands over her mouth, brows furrowing as he took long drags against her with his tongue, pressing it inside every once in a while, he made a noise of satisfaction as his eyes closed and she watched as his forearms flexed around her thighs, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. She let one of her hands slide down over her breasts, and then down further, to run through his honey blond locks. She pulled at the hair on the top that she could get her fingers tangled in and it only made him lap at her faster. He sucked at her clit and opened his eyes, a lustful darkness flooding his gaze as he stared at her while he continued his work. Sam hadn't even realized it, but her orgasm was right there, and she was cresting it before she could warn him. 

“ Fuck, Jake.” was all that spilled from her lips as a gasp, while her walls pulsated. Jake pulled away, watching as they squeezed at nothing, almost as if they were inviting him to fill up the space. He gave her a few moments, kissing around her belly button, her hips, and her inner thighs and laughing when she did because she was super sensitive after such a surprise orgasm and everything he did tickled. His lips were warm and wet and he wiped his mouth on his forearm before pushing his boxers down, his length springing free finally. Sam propped herself up on her elbows as he climbed over her, and her eyes widened. 

“Jake, what the fuck.” She said, her eyes focused on his length, which hung neatly between his legs, and he smirked. He was no stranger to it because that was every girl's reaction. His pants always hid his eight inches of veiny cock with a perfectly shaped tip very well. He kept himself well shaven and clean. He was proud of his cock.

“What?” He asked, and Sam grinned.

“Full payload there, huh?” she giggled and he nodded.

“Locked and loaded, babygirl.” He said darkly as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Ey, hold on, I gotta put the condom on before you do that.”

She let her legs fall to the side with a grin up at him. He sat back on his heels and ripped the wrapper with his teeth, pinching the tip with two fingers and carefully rolling the condom onto his length. His tags jingled as he threw the wrapper and leaned back down. He dipped his mouth to play with her nipples for a moment, Sam's hands tangling in the hair at the base of his skull. She let a small moan escape her lips as he came all the way up and connected his lips with hers. He broke the kiss for a moment.

“Okay if I continue?” He asked and she was surprised.

“What if I said no?” She asked and his smile became soft.

“Then I'd stop. You have my word on that.” He said and Sam swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. She wasn't nervous. She wanted this, but at every turn, Jake continued to surprise her. 

“Keep going, please, Jake.” She said, pulling his mouth back over hers. She felt him smile against her lips as he swung his hips back and hit his target perfectly. She was soaked so his length slid in easily, but she hadn't anticipated the stretch that came along with it. It was a good stretch and Jake felt her pulse around his cock as he inches inside her. She couldn’t help the moan that came out of her mouth as he filled her all the way. He waited with a feral grin across his lips. His tags clinked and the sound just excited Sam even more. 

“So...how do you want it, pretty girl?” He purred and she nearly headbutted him with how hard she smashed her lips into his.

“Jake Seresin if you don’t shut your mouth and fuck me...” She growled, and he took that as his cue. He began slowly, but ramped up his speed quickly. Jake actually didn’t want to fuck her. He wanted their first time to be slow and sensual, but that wasn’t what Sam wanted. And this whole thing was all about what Sam wanted right now. In the future, for sure, he’d show her what a good lover he was, but right now, she needed him to give her whatever she asked for. She needed the release of tension. She needed to shut her brain off and just feel something.

Their lips connected again, as she pulled his hips in closer. Sam’s bed creaked slightly with the increase in Jake’s speed as he rutted into her. His tags were now resting between her breasts as their chests were nearly touching, but she could still hear them chinking against each other. Sam’s arms were wrapped around the back of his neck and he’d shifted to hold her head steady, his hands threaded through her hair. Jake felt his balls draw up tight and he tried to hang on for a few more moments.

“Gonna come, Sam.” He groaned and her legs around his waist were the only indicator that she heard him. She had closed her eyes, just letting him fuck her. Letting him be close to her. Letting him in. She squeezed his hips tighter as he came, as he stilled and filled up the condom. He groaned her name into her neck and she pulled at his hair, which he never realized he liked. He stayed there for a few minutes, as his brain felt like an old tv, with the fuzzy screen. No thoughts, just Sam. Her scent, fruit and flowers. The feeling of her warmth around his length, and the sweat on their bodies that glued them together. 

Jake pulled out and removed the condom. She pointed to a trash can in the corner of her room and he chucked it and the wrapper in there. He picked his boxers up off the floor and put them on and then crawled back up on the bed. Sam reached for him, and he settled above her, placing his lips on hers. 

“Thank you...” She said, Jake’s brows furrowing.

“For?” He asked, rolling to the side of her. She turned and hiked a leg across his hips, and placed a hand on his chest. She played with his tags, which made him grin. The light jangling was the only sound beside their exchanged voices.

“Helping me not think for a little bit.” She whispered and he nodded, kissing her forehead and pulling her close. He yanked some of the covers up over them just in case someone walked in on them. Sam played with his dog tags and chest hair until she fell asleep, and Jake massaged her neck while she did so. Once he was sure she was out, he closed his eyes, feeling comfortable knowing she fell asleep easily tonight.

[sourw0lfs]

For the writing prompts:

"What's with the box?" for Steddie 😛❤️

It's the way that this ended up being almost 1800 words because I got a brainworm that just wouldn't quit. Thank you, love!

EDIT: this is now also on AO3

-------------------

A smarter man would have just left things alone, but literally no one has ever accused Eddie Munson of being smart. A smartass maybe, but not smart. Something about never being able to keep his focus on anything that matters, but in Eddie’s most humble opinion, the duct tape covered box sitting in front of him on the coffee table matters. Quite a lot, actually, thank you very much.

Because the thing is, the box on the coffee table has haunted him for the last four years, and he’s about ready to get to the bottom of things. At first, sure, he was willing to leave it alone, to let Steve keep a secret or two from him, but then the box never got opened as it moved with them through two apartments and a house. So it clearly isn’t something that’s getting unpacked any time soon. If ever, really. And it is slowly eating Eddie’s brain, the longer he looks at it without any answers.

He knows that he could just remove the lid and take a peek all on his own, but that seems dishonest because he doesn’t have permission, and there’s no way he’d be able to keep it from Steve the second he walked through the front door. So instead, Eddie’s grand plan is simply sitting on the couch with the box in front of him, waiting for Steve to get home to ask. On some level, he fully expects to not get an answer, considering it’s been four years and it’s never come up before now. But at least he’ll be able to say he tried and maybe that’ll be enough to quell the slowly gnawing on his mind about the contents.

Currently, he’s losing a staring contest with the box, contemplating all of the things it could possibly be, until the sound of the front door closing tears him away again. Or well, he jolts, honestly. Nearly straight off the couch as his gaze whips up to a befuddled Steve standing there, keys still in hand as he takes in the scene in front of him.

There’s already a delicious pink blush rising to his cheeks, and that only serves to make Eddie more curious about the box. Because whatever it is…. Steve is embarrassed by it. And maybe that should be enough to get him to drop it before he even starts, but Eddie’s like a dog with a bone now. It’s too late to back out now.

“Hi Stevie!” he greets with a wide grin, trying to hide just how much he wants to fidget under Steve’s gaze.

“Eds,” Steve’s returned greeting is not nearly so cheerful. If anything, it’s cautious, like Steve thinks Eddie’s already had his peek inside the box.

Eddie lets his eyes trail back down to the silver box for a second before back up again. “I didn’t look,” he promises. “I just… It’s been living in our closet since we moved in together and you never open it and I’m just so fucking curious about what could possibly be inside. It’s literally started popping up in my dreams, trying to figure out what’s with the box, why does Steve never open it, what could he possibly be hiding.”

He’s rambling now and he knows it, but the words just keep coming, trying to placate Steve when he isn’t even visibly upset. Yet. It’s probably yet. As the words sink in, Steve’s face gets impossibly pinker, the blush traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears and down his neck. It’s adorable and Eddie wants to kiss all over it, but he’s a man on a mission right now, so he’s gonna be patient. Even if blushing Steve is one of his favorite Steves.

But even as Steve’s blush travels down into the collar of his shirt, Eddie can already see him giving in. It should probably make him feel bad, because Steve is clearly uncomfortable, but he also trusts that Steve would tell him if he was overstepping. Instead Steve just sighs as he toes off his shoes before crossing the room to sit next to Eddie on the couch. Once he’s within reaching distance, Eddie leans to smack a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly as he leans back again. “Not if you really don’t want to.”

“It’s not important.” Steve’s hand is already hovering over the lid though and Eddie waits on the edge of his seat. “It’s just… kind of embarrassing? For me.”

“Do I need to start listing all of the ways I’m embarrassing to help you work up the courage?” Eddie asks, mostly teasing but fully willing to do it if it helps Steve.

Steve shakes his head though, fingers curling under the lid of the box and finally, slowly lifting it to reveal the contents. And for all that Eddie’s been plagued by the box for literal years, seeing the assortment of notebooks inside is a bit anticlimactic. He’d been expecting something illegal at the very least, maybe even something kind of sinister. Not… notebooks. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Without a single thought in his head, Eddie reaches out for one, half expecting Steve to stop him before he can grab, but the top notebook gets lifted out of the box without much fanfare. Eddie gets it settled in his lap just in time for Steve to face plant in one of the throw pillows Robin had insisted the couch needed. The reaction makes Eddie pause, but he hasn’t been told to stop, so he just…

He flips the cover open and is met with a full page of Steve’s hasty, somewhat messy scrawl amidst a mess of crossed through lines. The words at the top of the page have been written over several times to make them bolder and darker than the rest, almost like a title. Then Eddie starts to read.

As he reads over the words Steve has scribbled down, he realizes that the bolded words are a title. And that the words following it down this page and the next and the next, on and on, are… poems.

Eddie’s made it about ten pages in, furrow in his brow getting more and more pronounced as he goes, when Steve finally pulls himself back up, fidgeting in the quiet of the room. His face has moved from pink to red sometimes during his attempt to become one with the pillows. “They’re so bad, I know,” he’s already rushing to say, seeing how many pages Eddie has gone through, is still going through. “You don’t have to tell me. I just…”

He’s cut off by lips pressing themselves to his with a clack of teeth, the thud of the notebook hitting the coffee table next to the box lost somewhere in his noise of surprise. Eddie’s hands wind themselves into Steve’s hair, tugging him closer, just for a moment before Eddie is pulling back again, hands trailing down to rest on either side of Steve’s face.

“They’re not bad, love,” Eddie assures him as he leans to pepper kisses all over Steve’s face. “They’re actually kind of fucking phenomenal.”

It’s then that Steve tries to escape his grip, head shaking in between Eddie’s palms. “No, no, they’re not,” he argues but the words are barely out before he’s being kissed again.

“Stop arguing with me,” Eddie says against his lips with another kiss to follow. “I know good writing. You know I know good writing.”

Because between the two of them Eddie is the one that reads, he’s the one that writes short stories here and there outside of running campaigns. And sure, maybe he’s a little biased because it’s Steve but he likes to think he can make a good call even then. The words do their trick though, and Steve doesn’t argue again. Instead he wiggles free of Eddie’s hold and buries his face in his hands.

Eddie takes it as encouragement to keep reading, all but diving back into the notebook he’d abandoned to make his reassurances. “Are all of these like this?” he asks as he flips to a new page.

“Most of them yeah…” Steve’s voice is small and muffled behind his hands, but he’s peeking out now, watching as Eddie devours page after page. Then slowly, oh so slowly, his hands lower. “I started after all of the….” He waves a hand vaguely but Eddie gets it. “To get the thoughts and feelings out. And then it just sort of became a habit, or like… an escape?”

As Steve explains, Eddie nods, already reaching into the box for a second notebook. “Have you ever thought about publishing them?” Eddie pauses for a second, frowning at the page in front of him with a thoughtful expression. “The more vague ones at least. I don’t think the government would like the ones actually using the proper terms floating around out there.”

The blush on Steve’s face, with had finally been receding, comes back full force as he stares at Eddie with wide eyes. “They’re not that…” he starts but trails off with a shake of his head as Eddie levels him with a stare of his own, raised eyebrow and all. “You really think they’re that good?”

“Definitely. Especially the newer ones.”

Because honestly, I’s easy to tell what part of Steve’s life he was at page by page, at least for Eddie. He flips the page again and chuckles as the hearts drawn in the margins this time before his eyes focus on the words. As he reads, a smile works its way over Eddie’s face, different from the grin he’d been sporting the whole time, softer and more meaningful. When he’s done, the notebook finds itself closed and placed back in the box and Steve finds himself with a lap full of boyfriend.

“I see you got to the poems about you,” Steve chuckles, barely able to get the words out between kisses. “Glad you like them.”

“Love them,” Eddie says against his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too, idiot.”

Eddie hums into the kiss before burrowing his head in Steve’s shoulder to place kisses along his neck. “Your idiot that’s going to bully you into getting published.”

“We’ll talk about it later. When you’re not trying to devour my neck,” Steve compromises, but Eddie takes the win, nipping his agreement against Steve’s skin. They both know he won’t forget. No matter how much Steve tries to distract him.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Room 1015 - Gareth

Day #23 - Up and Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Winding Down After The Gig, New and Exciting Love

1 Night, 4 Rooms Each is standalone, but takes place on the same hotel floor.

Eddie | Goodie | Gareth | Jeff | Steve (Bonus morning after!)

Gareth hears it on both sides, and tries to block out the sound. The last thing he wants to be thinking about is any of his bandmates, his friends, having sex while he's hopefully getting ready to do the same thing himself.

They really need to start booking rooms on different floors. But that would just make more work for Steve, so that's probably not gonna happen. They're on the bus most of the time these days, anyway. Hotels are for special days off, like tonight, because Di was coming in to meet him.

Sounds like they all made good use having rooms tonight. A clean sweep, a home run, the full monty. All of them coming home from the bar with company.

That almost never happens. It's more rare than, well, fuck, just about anything. 

But, one-by-one, they left the bar. First Eddie, but that was with Steve, so that's hardly a surprise and should really be thrown out of all present and future statistics. It's skewing the data. A done deal.

A constant. 

But then Jeff picked up a girl, then another girl kept circling the table, and Gareth couldn't exactly tell if she was trying to catch his eye, or Goodie's.

And it was Goodie she wanted to fuck, apparently.

Gareth wasn't interested anyway, but still. Way to make him feel like the last loser left behind. Goodie eventually struck up a conversation with her at the bar, and then he was gone, too. 

And that left Gareth, all alone to pay the tab that the rest of them conveniently left for him. He didn't even drink tonight, not wanting to be sloshed when Di showed up, so having to pay the entire tab was really kind of fucked.

Now, he's on the bed in his own room, waiting. Somewhat patiently. This thing between them in still pretty new, and long distance, but hot and fucking heavy. Maybe he should check with the front desk again. Make sure she's not waiting. He left very specific instructions that she was to be given a key and let up. 

When the door finally swings open, Di's standing there in a floral sundress that she immediately strips over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties, as soon as her suitcase hits the floor. 

And he's lucky. 

Very, very lucky.

She crawls up on the bed, and straddles his thighs. Pressing right down against him. He runs his hands all over her back, just wanting to touch her.

"I missed you," he says.

Her flight was delayed, and she missed the show. They were both disappointed about that, but she's here now.

"I missed you, too," Di says, rocking on his clothed dick. "I'm sorry I missed the show. I tried. Believe it or not, you can't just talk your way onto a plane with a sob story."

Gareth laughs. If anyone could, it'd be her, though. 

He wishes she'd made it, but knows it was totally out of her control. If Steve couldn't make it happen, it was impossible. That much Gareth knows. There'll be other shows. A lifetime of them, maybe.

At least they'll have tomorrow, a day off, together. It's a travel day, so they'll have to get on the bus, but he's called dibs on the back bedroom. The only bit of privacy. 

She feels good on him, and he knows they could both get off like this, have, they are that fucking horny for each other. He met his match in her, somehow. And he wants more, but has other plans first. He anchors himself, rolling them, flipping her onto her back. Settling between her thighs. 

She laughs, touching his forehead, brushing his hair back. He yanks down her panties and breathes in the smell of her, as his tongue gets to work. He didn't need to drink tonight at the bar, he'll get drunk on her.

It's his favorite thing. Always has been, always will be. 

Eating pussy. That's his gift. Well, and drumming. Equal talents, he's pretty sure. 

He loves her. 

He hasn't told her that, it's probably too soon. But he's loved her since the first night, he's quickly realizing. Love at first sight always seemed like such bullshit, even after he basically saw it happen with Eddie and Steve.

He still didn't believe.

Now, he thinks he just might.

His tongue licking upwards, then back down, delving inside her, getting her even wetter than she already is. Wanting to make her happy, wanting to make her come, over and over. 

He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, and her breathing changes. Raggedy, as she works towards an orgasm, thighs shaking around his ears. 

She's quiet, though. Unlike whatever the fuck is happening in the room next door. Goodie ain't that good in bed. No way in hell. 

He pushes it out of his mind, focusing only on Di. She makes a breathy noise and clenches around his ears, coming. 

If he keeps it up, he might be about to stretch it into a second.

She cards her fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp, "Gare. Now." 

He's happy right where he is, but he comes up, reluctantly, and can smell her on his upper lip in a way that makes his dick throb as he reaches for a condom, rolling it down. He expects to slide on top of her, but she's climbing on his lap, guiding herself down onto his cock. 

"Like that," she says, and he'll continue to do anything she wants, for as long as she'll let him. Forever, even. 

Chest-to-chest, she's just rolling her hips, fucking him. He hugs her close, both hands on her back, his face buried in her neck. 

She's perfect. He doesn't know how he existed before her, honestly. He knows he's got lots of shit, lots of baggage, and he's nowhere near perfect.

But he wants to keep her, keep them. 

He really, really wants to love her. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily prompt 09/10/23

Prompt: balcony

c/w outing

****

“It’s beautiful, Eddie.”

And it really is. A two storey house over looking the beach. Real wood floors, so many windows, leaving the house bright and airy. The furniture was all new, too. There was a huge beige sectional in the living room and Wayne didn’t think he knew enough people to fill it. It was crazy.

And the view. There had been no money for vacations when Eddie was growing up, so save for the occasional camping trip they made do with looking at brochures from the travel agency in Hawkins. And they would plan. Make lists of all the places they were going to go. Picked their hotels and their holiday homes. Always the biggest suite available. Always with sandy white beaches and clear blue seas, swimming pools and cocktails.

This place was all those vacations rolled into one.

“You like it?”

Wayne just nods back, feels a little choked if he’s honest. He’s so fucking proud of this kid. Every achievement in his life has been hard won, no one handed him anything on a platter. Even for this, he worked his ass off and Wayne knows for a fact Eddie pushed himself, pushed the band, into touring more than was good for them. Eddie had become a workaholic over the last couple of years, something Wayne was going to have to keep an eye on. Though the distance made it hard.

The day Eddie left Hawkins was bittersweet. It broke Wayne’s heart, truth be told, but he did the thing you’re supposed to do when you’re a parent. Stood outside their trailer and sent his boy off into the world and told him the door was always open. That had been five years ago and Eddie hadn’t stepped foot in Hawkins since then.

And look at him now, buying fancy beach front property. Wayne walked out onto the balcony and shook his head. They were a million miles away from that trailer right now.

“You know I’ve a mind to take a photograph of this and stick it on a poster in the middle of Hawkins.” He spread his hands out, framing the imaginary image. “‘Welcome to Eddie Munson’s beach side abode.’ It would be worth the cost just to watch people choke.”

Eddie gives him an impish grin. “Uncle Wayne, this isn’t my house.”

He frowns back. “Please tell me we’re not trespassing, Ed, I’m on vacation son, I just want a nice-“. He stops when Eddie grabs his hands and drops a set of keys into it, a heavy key ring attached. A single silver ‘W’.

“This is your house.”

There’s silence for a while, though anyone with really good hearing would hear the cogs screeching to a halt in his head. 

“I don’t understand.”

Eddie leans back against the balcony guardrail to face Wayne. “I bought it for you. I want you to live out here with me. I fucking miss you, old man, I hate it. Hate not having you close by. So. Yeah.” He ends with a shrug.

“Can you even afford this? I mean, you have a place already, can you afford another?”

Eddie nods. “I can afford it. Bought this outright, it’s yours, bank doesn’t own a single square inch. My place is mortgaged. I figure, you know, I fuck everything up eventually, so I still need a home to come back to when it all comes to an end.” Wayne tuts at him, hates the way he puts himself down. Hang over from school, and his parents. He thinks it’s so deeply ingrained he’ll never break him out if it now.

“I took the liberty of picking my room out, but the masters all yours.”

“Son, I don’t know…”

Eddie’s face falls. “You don’t like it. I should have asked. Fuck, I knew it, I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d want to move, you have a life back-“

“Eddie-“

“-and I didn’t even consider if you’d like to pick out your own home, like, who fucking does that, and I don’t even let you-“

“Eddie!”

“Yeah?”

“Calm down, son.”

“Okay.”

“I love it.”

Large brown eyes meet his, full of hope. Not without some fear. “Do you mean it? Because we can look elsewhere? Like, another neighbourhood, maybe? You know, if you don’t like this one.”

Wayne laughed. “Where’s your place? In relation to this?”

“Fifteen minute drive.”

“Hmm, fifteen minutes beats thirty hours, I think.”

“It’s only five hours if you fly.”

“Fifteen minutes beats five hours, too.”

So that’s how Wayne Munson, previously of Forest Hill’s trailer park, winds up living in a million dollar beach house in California.

—-

It’s weird, the not working, the finding of a new routine when yours has been the same for literally decades. He’s a creature of habit, likes a little order. So he still wakes early every morning. Still likes to sit out and smoke every evening. Only now he gets to do that lying on a lounger on a huge balcony watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean. It’s a new routine he’s very happy to have.

—-

“That boy of yours working yet?”

They’re sitting, knocking back a couple of beers watching the sunset. Eddie’s been spending more time here lately, and Wayne loves it, but he’s also not an idiot.

Eddie nods before finishing the last if his beer. “Yeah. Got some modelling work coming up.”

Wayne hums.

“Don’t, Wayne. Not tonight.”

So they don’t.

—-

Eddie swings by as much as he can when he’s not touring or working. Wayne worries about him everytime he heads into LA, especially since the riots, but he tries not to mollycoddle. He’s twenty seven now. Not a kid anymore.

But he’s touring a lot. They just got back from the biggest one yet, 331 days, 189 shows. It’s too much. Wayne hates it. But Eddie doesn’t listen. So on they go.

—-

“Forgot to tell you, I got a postcard from Curly.”

“I can’t believe you still call him that,” laughs Eddie.

Dustin will always be Curly to him, and no rockstar is going to tell him otherwise.

“He’s hiking on the Appalachian Trail, did you know that? Think he’s got the Wheeler boy with him, too.”

“I did know that, they tried to get me to go with them.”

Wayne stares at him likes he got two heads. “Have they not met you before?”

Eddie splutters. “I’ll have you know I’m incredibly fit. Touring is hard work. I’m in peak physical condition, thank you.”

They laugh at the thought of Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler hiding from bears and finish another couple of beers, watching the sun go down.

—-

Wayne has started to build a new routine. He likes to walk in the early evening. He tried it after lunch one day and nearly collapsed. (He never told Eddie about that.) So now he heads out around five in the afternoon when the temperature is a little more manageable, and has a leisurely stroll around the neighbourhood or along the beach before heading back to the house.

The first thing he notices when he comes through his front door is the hold-all on the floor, barely zipped up and hastily packed.

“Ed?”

He doesn’t get a response but the sliding door is open and he just makes out the figure curled up on a lounger. 

“Son?”

“Can I stay a couple of nights?” There’s a broken sound to his voice, like he’s been crying. Wayne hates it.

“You know you never have to ask.” 

Wayne brings them both beers, and takes his usual seat. Just waits.

“There’s going to be an article in the press. Don’t know the details, but looks like I’m being outed.”

And there it is.

“By who?”

Eddie looks at him forlornly. “Does it matter?”

“And what does… Luke, does he know?”

“He’s leaving tonight. I just didn’t want to be there until he’s gone.”

“Good. I’ll go round tomorrow make sure he’s out. Get the locks changed.”

They sit for a while, listening to the ocean. 

“Is it so bad? Hmm? You got a lot of fans now, people love you. They wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie replies, sounding pained. “And it’s not just me. I have to think of the others. If they take me down they might take the band with it. And…” he looks at Wayne, large brown eyes spilling with tears. “It was mine. They had no right to take that from me.”

“You’re a public figure though,” Wayne sighs, hates he’s having to say this. “It was always a possibility, hmm? Not saying it’s right, just… just saying.”

They finish their beers in silence before Wayne cracks open a bottle of whisky Eddie bought him a couple of years back. Pricey, he knows, but if ever it was needed it’s now.

—

It’s news, for a while, but mostly in some of the shittier publications. There are jokes and taunting in some of the rock magazines, and it starts being a thing interviewers want to talk about. Their management company make sure everyone knows it’s off limits. 

Wayne hates it so much.

—-

He puts up some wind chimes. He spends more time out on that balcony than in the living room, so he decides it’s time to jazz it up a bit. He’s far enough from his neighbours that it shouldn’t bother them, but he also doesn’t give a shit.

Just as he sits the phone rings, and he needs to get a line out here, because somehow it doesn’t matter who it is they always get him the moment he sits down.

He’s a little rude when he answers the phone.

“Uh, Mister Munson?”

“Yes, and who is this?”

“It’s Steve Harrington, sir, I don’t know if you remember me? Um, from Hawkins?”

Yes. Yes he remembers Steve very well. You tend to remember people when they save your kids life. Tend to remember them when they spend a lot of time with your kid afterwards.

“I remember you, Steve. Don’t worry about that. I didn’t know you were in contact with Eddie again, he’s not here I’m afraid, he’s on tour, not sure where is today-“

“Sydney. He’s in Sydney.” Steve clears his throat, and there’s something about the tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s okay,” Steve gets in as fast as he can, “he’s- honestly, he’s going to be fine.”

“What’s wrong, Steve?”

“He collapsed, on stage.”

Wayne feels the air leave his lungs, doesn’t realise he’s made a noise until Steve cuts in.

 “He’s okay, but they’re keeping in the hospital overnight, doctors are saying it’s exhaustion, so they’re getting fluids into him and they want him on bed rest for a while. He hit his head on the edge of the drum riser when he went down, so he’s got a few stitches and he’s gonna have a hell of a headache when he wakes up. But he’s going to be okay.” 

Eddie’s home two days later, Steve in tow carrying the bags, and he looks terrible. Gaunt, dark circles that need more than a good nights sleep to erase, and a gauze dressing in the middle of a dark purple bruise on his temple. He looks pitiful. Wayne pulls him into a gentle hug and he feels Eddie go loose in his arms. 

“Let’s get you up to bed, hmm? We can talk later.”

After, Wayne takes Steve out on to the balcony, and closes the door behind him.

“Thank you, for looking after him.”

Steve smiles. “You don’t have to thank me for that, he’s my… he’s my friend. I’ll always look after him.”

Wayne thinks on that for a while. He can read between the lines as well as anyone else. 

“I didn’t know you were back,” together?, “in contact.”

“Yeah, a few months back, Dustin’s wedding? Yeah, it um… yeah it was nice. Unexpected.” He sees the look on Steve’s face. Knows that look. Saw it on both their faces back in Hawkins before Eddie left to conquer the world.

“So, when do you go home?”

Steve taps out a rhythm on the side of his can. “I got a couple of days of leave I’m gonna take, just till I know he’s okay. But I need to get home soon, work you know.” He carries on with his tapping and Wayne thinks he recognises it, one of Gareth’s grooves. Catchy. Not that he’d ever say that to the band.

“I, uh. I’m thinking of moving out here, actually.”

There’s a couple walking along the beach, their dogs racing back and forth and in and out of the ocean. They can hear them laughing from here. 

“This is a nice neighbourhood. You know, if you were looking for a place to settle.”

Wayne can see Steve smile and nod out of the corner of his eye.

“So I’ve heard.”

—-

They’re out on the balcony at one am with a bottle of champagne and three beers. He’s usually very respectful, but tonight his attitude is very much ‘fuck the neighbours’.

“So, where you gonna put it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sways, he’s been celebrating all evening, long before he arrived here with Steve. The two of them in sharp tailored suits and shiney shoes. Wayne should get a photo before they take them off. Eddie in actual shoes.

Eddie leans over and grabs it, the gold gramophone glimmering under the balcony lighting. 

“Hmm… I was thinking right over there,” he says, pointing to a litte decorative table on the other side of the sliding doors.

Wayne’s stares at him, confused. “You got to take it home, put it somewhere where everyone will see it.”

“I don’t need everyone to see it. I just need us to see it.”

Maybe it’s the champagne and the beer he’s been mixing, but suddenly it all hits him. The heat in his face, the stuffy nose. Ten years. Ten years of hard work.  

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He dabs at his eyes, and he watches as Eddie wipes his on his shirt, Steve tutting at him about using a handkerchief.

Wayne grabs the Grammy and takes it inside, placing it on the table next to the photograph of Eddie and Steve that he likes to keep close by. 

They spend the night out on the balcony, drinking and talking, wind chimes twinkling, and they wait for the sun to rise.

[yae-energy]

master chef

synopsis: pizza date with bf! denji

cast: bf! denji x black fem reader, (ft. power and aki)

cw: cursing, candy corn, a tiny bit of angst if you squint. this is really just a buncha bs y’all (but when is it not?? y’all knew who i was when y’all followed me 😙😜😁)

a/n: inspired by me making a pizza last night LMAOOO, i thought it was cute y’all shush ya lips 🙄

—

bf! denji. . . who is ECSTATIC when you propose that you guys make pizza as a little at home date activity, because despite his love for being out and about he’s appreciates having some intimate quality time with you.

bf! denji. . . who harasses aki to take you guys out on a quick grocery trip because the nearest store is 15 minutes away. there is absolutely no way in hell he’s gonna have his girlfriend walk all the way there and back, he can handle long distance travel so a 30 minute walk was light work to him. but he cares about you and won’t let you tire yourself out like that. power ends up tagging along (cause aki is not about to leave her ALONE in the apartment). he ends up being salty about it but what can ya do?

bf! denji. . . who is dead set on getting candy corn to put on his pizza which causes you and aki to try and convince him to just put it back. the persuasion doesn’t work and he ends up getting it, but you told him he wasn’t allowed to put it on the whole pizza and only the slices he plans on eating.

bf! denji. . . who turns into a photographer in the self checkout lane because he values memories. whenever you guys do something together he takes a picture and sets the new one as his lock screen. you’re the most beautiful girl in the world in his eyes, and every day that he gets to wake up and look at you on his lock-screen is a blessing to him. aki ends up in some of the pictures too and he’s just like:

😶✌🏻

bf! denji. . . who watches you intently as you flatten out the dough, partly because he has no clue what he’s doing and needs a visual guide. but also because looking at you in such a domestic setting makes him wonder if this is what it’ll be like if you guys end up in your own apartment one day. he is a devil hunter afterall so a future isn’t promised for him, but the thought is nice, let a man dream.

bf! denji. . . who cuddles with you on the couch while power goes on another rant about about nothing and everything all at once. while aki watches over the pizzas to make sure nothing burns, he couldn’t help but bask in the glory from being surrounded by people he loved and cared about. it was a moment he’d think about and appreciate for as long as he lived.

bf! denji. . . who turns into the fucking flash the second aki says the pizzas are done. he keeps his word about only adding the candy corn to his slices, and low key thinks he’s a genius for even coming up with that idea.

bf! denji. . . who looks at all the pictures he took when you have to go home at the end of the night, a bittersweet moment to end the day.

—

tags: @megurulvr @honeybleed @chinieh @jogeto @mypimpademia @planetlunaa | tag form

[pedge-stuff]

thermos (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” drop a line if you have a sug. (:

summary: sometimes, love boils on the stove. (set 2021.)

————————————————————————

It had been a long fucking day.  Delayed table read, late picks, emergency rewrites—  the perfect storm at SNL.  

The steady pressure in your temples had gradually increased throughout the day, despite the Excedrine you'd taken early on. This had morphed into an ache at the back of your throat, because of course it had— bad things always came in waves. 

Halfway through the last-minute pitch meeting post-rehearsal, you'd missed a call from Pedro. The same time he called every day,  usually timed well with your walk home from midtown. Sending him to voicemail was out of character. 

Sorry, you'd texted. Rehearsal tonight. Lightly sautéed, gonna crash after work, talk tomorrow? Love  you very much x 

He'd shot back a " :( " and then had been typing for several minutes, the little bubbles appearing over and over. OK, he finally said. Love you too. 

It tweaked your heart, a bit. The two thousand miles between your phones was hard to stomach, sometimes. Alberta felt, for reasons unknown, so infinitely farther than LA, though the mileage was comparable. You picture him, alone in his trailer, reading glasses perched on his nose as he scrolls his phone, waiting for wrap to leave and tuck his old bones into bed.

Ultimately, you are a little too tired, and achy, and frustrated with work, and maybe a little cranky, to dwell on the finality of his "OK."  There's nothing he can do for you, from Alberta; it's not worth worrying him. 

You drag yourself home, resigned to making a weak cup of tea and curling up with the dogs. (Home is your studio apartment, while he's gone, though he maintains a steady campaign for you to just move into his. You haven't yet been able to articulate how fucking lonely his Brooklyn townhouse is without him.) Politely squeeze past the elderly couple who have pushed their sidewalk table all the way in front of the door to your building. Check the mail, of which there is none. Climb the stairs, a slow shuffle, fumbling with your stupid keys, music still playing at street volume in your headphones, eyes burning, lock turning— 

Fuck, fuck. 

Pedro turns the stove off, offers you a shy smile. Your bag drops to the floor. Something inside you snaps, pulls loose. You burst into tears. 

"Oh," he says, and you forcefully close the distance, wrapping your arms around him as you try and stifle quiet sobs. Wonder, for a moment, what the fuck is happening. "Surprise?" 

You laugh, weakly. Run a hand down your face. "Sorry, sorry." 

He pushes you back, apprising you with a gentle and skeptical look. Holds your face in his hands and thumbs away the fresh tears. Frowns. Presses his palm to your forehead. "You didn't tell me you were sick."

Leaning into his hand, you shake your head. "Not sick. Just tired." You pull back. "I can't believe you're here. Jesus. How long are you here for?" 

His attention is drawn back to the stove, beside which he has set your green travel mug. He smiles sheepishly. "Was trackin' ya on Find My." The kettle spits a small whistle as he pours the water. Your heart clenches; this stupidly thoughtful man. 

"I can rally," you offer, even as he ushers you into the bedroom. There is a suddenly conspicuous absence of dogs. 

"They're in Brooklyn. Figured you'd wanna get some shit here, and then we Uber that way?"

"You really thought this through, huh?" There are clothes and toiletries at his place ("our place," he calls it, though the studio is decidedly "your place."), but you pack a few things, just in case. 

It's not a secret that he doesn't love your apartment— it's a little cramped, for two men and two dogs. Plus, his apartment is more of a full condo. And the bathroom's nicer.

He watches you pack, perched on the edge of the bed. It's hard to focus on anything other than studying the soft lines of his travel-weary face. The rise and fall of his chest. Bits and pieces of him that the front-facing iPhone camera cannot pick up over FaceTime. 

— 

In the back of the Uber, mindful of the rearview mirror, you have his left hand trapped between both of yours. The skin of his palm has toughened, calloused slightly from whatever they have him doing in the woods of Canada. It still feels the same as you press your lips to the center. 

"I'm still a little confused," you whisper, "but I'm so happy you're here." 

His steals his hand back, to card it through your hair. "Me too. Was going crazy, trying to keep it a secret. We've got the long weekend off for Veteran's day, so I thought..." 

"Mm. Do you have an agenda this weekend?" 

The Uber makes its final turn. "Yeah. I would like to sleep for one million years, in a bed, with you. And probably see Oscar and Elvira, at some point. Also maybe order Empanada Mama. I ate a Canadian empanada last week that legitimately made me sad." 

You hold onto his hand as you exit the car, cross the street, key in. The tea put you at ease, but with the shock of the surprise wearing off, the weight of the day resettles as an ache across your shoulders. 

The dogs bound down the hallway as you key in. Pedro's suitcase has not made it much farther than the front door, though it has been cracked open and partially rummaged. "I was in a rush," he said sheepishly.

"Mm. You showerin’?” 

“Probably should. We heading up?” 

You nod, kneeling to re-zip his bag; the duties of young knees. (The age gap is disregarded, unless he plays the old card to his advantage.) Edgar pounces on you while you’re accessibly low. Ten different questions die in the back of your throat. Every step between you and the king sized bed on the third floor feels impossible. 

— 

He smells clean, as he wraps his arms around you, skin still damp and warm from the obscenely hot showers he prefers. You have a long day of rehearsal ahead of you tomorrow, then an even longer show day— but none of that matters now.

"Thank you for coming." You mumble, sleepily, into the worn fabric on his shoulder. Fingers card through your hair, brush gently over your temple. You've got a hand beneath his t-shirt, splayed across the base of his ribs.

Pedro makes an indignant noise, low, from his chest. "Not a place on Earth I'd rather be."

[bullet-prooflove]

For the writers ask!

6. Favorite character you ever created.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

31. Hardest character to write.

32. Easiest character to write.

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

❤️

6. Favorite character you ever created.

There are so many but if I had to narrow it down I would say Ally (Beau Simpson) or Isobel (Dean Archer). Both bring out a really fun, softer side to their partners and they handle their shit with such dignity and grace.

I also wanna add Gina (Travis Wheatley) in here for destroying Travis’s trophies when she thought he was cheating on her.

Oh and Georgia (Terry Silver) too. There is always so much magic when I write the two of them.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

It’s Roxie that notices Margo’s attraction to Dean first.

31. Hardest character to write.

Honestly Joe Cruz from Chicago Fire. I have tried writing for him hundreds of times over the years but I just can not find the key that unlocks him.

32. Easiest character to write.

Terry Silver, in my head he has such a defined voice that it makes him really easy to write. As soon as I see a prompt for him I’m like yep, I know exactly what we’re doing with this one.

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

For me it’s really about what the fandom character I’m writing for needs from a partner.

So for Wes Mitchell (FBI International) it was a home away from home. So I knew it would be someone from his past, someone familiar he would feel comfortable in a strange country and who wasn’t part of the fly team because he needs that distance. I also knew it would have to be someone who understood the job he does because it would really fuck up a relationship. Hence we have an FBI Instructor at the International Training Academy who he had had a friendship/fling with in the past. The friendship angle allows her to call him out on his shit when he’s misbehaving because she already knows his history/antics.

With Terry Silver I just felt he was a very lonely man who has all this money and travels  but no one to really experience it with. When I wrote Georgia, I wanted someone who could bring a little colour to his world, who was soft and didn’t see the money or prestige. She doesn’t realise he’s a billionaire until later on in their romance and she’s already falling in love. I felt anyone to assertive or aggressive would really raise Terry’s hackles because he’d been burned before with people who wanted him for his status and not for him. I think one of their first dates is Georgia showing Terry, her version of Paris and it’s the act of sharing that experience that makes him fall in love because he sees the world through her eyes and it’s a wonderful place to be after being disillusioned for so long.  

Also I also really wanted to shy away from the whole sugar baby thing and focus on a relationship that was very loving and deep.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

Hm I can’t think of any weird ones off the bat (like witches or tentacles). I’d say more weird in terms of oh shit this is taking a turn I didn’t expect.

It’s happened with a few fics I’ve had in the past esp with the three things prompts.

Stuff like Dean Archer telling Isobel he found out Leanne was cheating when he was diagnosed with an STD. – did not see that coming.

Mike McClusky ending up in a devastating situation with Stella – the prompt was cocktail and from the instant I started writing the vibe was not a positive one.

Nick Torre’s partner being sent dirty lingerie by a stalker – the prompt was surprise gift I think and triggered a massive storyline for those two.

Rip Wheeler setting up an anniversary meal for Imogen and hearing gunshots across the pastures.

There are tons more but these are the ones off the top of my head.

[in1-nutshell]

Hey, if your open to it

Anything with Brainstorm from mtmte. It's criminal how little fanfiction there is of this little shit.

It could be romantic, like Buddy is just pining, and Brainstorm is just oblivious until someone points it out.

It could be familial, like Buddy is Brainstorm's sibling.

Or just some good ol platonic shit, just two chaotic idiots being pals.

We just need more of this mad scientist fuck and in this Ted talk I will-

I have been waiting to get to this one for a while! You're right too about Brainstorm not having too much content out there. It was hard trying to choose just one of the options so by the power of random finger pointing, we got the prompt.

Hope you enjoy!

Brainstorm having Twin sibling

SFW, platonic, familial, Cybertronian/ Bot reader, injuries mentioned

MTMTE/LL

Buddy’s alt-mode is a car, and they have a book nerd personality.

Comparing Buddy to Brainstorm was one of the funnier things to do.

Brainstorm the ever-talented scientist.

Buddy the archivist.

To totally different fields of work and yet they made things work. Brainstorm wasn’t too experienced in Buddy’s field and Buddy wasn’t too into the science field despite Brainstorm trying multiple times to get them into it. Buddy just didn’t seem to have the science touch like Brainstorm did.

“What do I do now Brainstorm?”--Buddy

“See that green wire?”--Brainstorm

“Yeah.” --Buddy

Snip

“Don’t cut that one.”--Brainstorm

“…What happens if I do, in a hypothetical situation?”--Buddy

“Then I suggest you run in the opposite direction NOW!”--Brainstorm

The war was already on its way when the two were around. While Brainstorm opted to become a triple agent, Buddy saw fit in communications and records sectors.

“I still don’t understand why you can’t move stations. Its such a pain to travel between stations and breaks are way too short!”--Brainstorm

“Stormy, I love you and all but you’re forgetting some key facts.”--Buddy

“What?”--Brainstorm

“One, I don’t belong in the science branch, especially nowhere near Project Solar storm.”--Buddy

“True I guess…”--Brainstorm

“And the second reason, I need to do my job Stormy. These messages aren’t going to deliver themselves.”--Buddy

“…”--Brainstorm

“Stop frowning Brainstorm. I always come back on time.”--Buddy

“I’m not frowning. You can’t even tell, I have the mask on!”--Brainstorm

“Stormy, I know when you have the frowny face.”--Buddy

Buddy is one of the few bots that can see through his façade in an instance. They also developed a sixth sense where they can tell if Brainstorm was making a new and possible dangerous invention. Which was almost every time.

Brainstorm putting together a highly unstable and dangerous weapon.

Ping!

Brainstorm answers his comm.

“Hello?”--Brainstorm

“Don’t. Even. Think about it Brainstorm.”--Buddy

“What—”--Brainstorm

“I know what you’re doing is probably not sanctioned, so drop it.”--Buddy

“…buzz kill…”--Brainstorm

“What was that?”--Buddy

“Love you too Buddy!”--Brainstorm

Brainstorm himself wanted to know if this was some sort of outlier ability.

“Brainstorm I swear—stick that prod into my joints ONE MORE TIME!”--Buddy

“This would be easier if you would just stay still!”--Brainstorm

“NO!”--Buddy

It wasn’t.

Brainstorm is constantly asking for Buddy whenever he has free time. It’s already bad enough that Buddy can’t be with him all the time, but they have a completely different schedule than he does and work so far away.

He hates having so much distance between them.

It’s a couple more years of these short communications when all lines go dead. Brainstorm was panicking inside. Buddy designation gets added on the MIA list after the sector had been ambushed by a Decepticon attack.

Brainstorm went on to create the Buddy finding machine. A machine that would detect where Buddy was nearby

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Work you machine!”--Brainstorm

“Results: No Buddy.”

“AAARRRRGGHHHHH!”--Brainstorm

Time skip after the time travel incident.

Brainstorm was recovering from everything.

From the trial.

From Quark.

From Buddy.

He made a detour while doing his time travel mess to at least see Buddy one more time in case he accidentally erased himself from existence. He was so tempted in reaching out for Buddy and to warn them of their fate… but he ultimately knew they wouldn’t have wanted that.

He let them go.

But things were getting better. The crew had stopped at a nearby planet after receiving a distress signal.

The ship was buzzing with noise when the crew came back and with someone with them.

“What’s going on?”--Brainstorm

“The away group came back with an injured bot.”--Nightbeat

“Oh?”--Brainstorm

“Yeah, heard the poor bot’s legs where chewed off.”--Skids

“Chewed off?”--Brainstorm

Brainstorm tried to see them but the crowd was too thick and opted in seeing the visitor later. Brainstorm was going back the lab as the crowd dispersed.

He didn’t make it far as Chromedome was hot on his tailpipe.

“Brainstorm! Brainstorm slow down!”--Chromedome

“Chromdome? What are—HEY!”--Brainstorm

“No time to explain! You’ll thank me later!”--Chromedome

He just grabbed his hand and went to the med bay.

“Chromdome what happened?! Is it Rewind?”--Brainstorm

“Domey! You guys are here!”--Rewind

“Guess not. Wait is it Perceptor? Is he hurt?!”--Brainstorm

“Why would I be hurt?”--Perceptor

“PERCY! You can’t just scare a bot like that!”--Brainstorm

“My apologies. Chromedome, does he know?”—Perceptor

“Do I know what?”--Brainstorm

“Not yet, I just hauled him over here. Kind of wanted to surprise him.”--Chromedome

“Surprise me?”--Brainstorm

“Well Nautica has been keeping them company since they came back online.”--Rewind

“Who came back online?”--Brainstorm

“Should we leave when he sees them?”--Rewind

“No, anyways he might faint, someone needs to catch him.”--Chromedome

“I am standing right here! And why in Primus’s name would I faint? Who’s with Nautica? Who came back online?”--Brainstorm

“I spoke with First Aid—”--Perecptor

“WILL SOMEONE PLEASE--!”--Brainstorm

“We’re clear! Good luck Brainstorm!”--Rewind

“… sometimes I wonder why you are my best friend.”--Brainstorm

“Same here now go.”--Chromedome

Brainstorm shrugged the animosity and walked in half expecting Ratchet to throw a wrench in his faceplate after he used the anti-gravity gun on Ambulon last week. And to be on the record that was on voluntary grounds, sure he didn’t explain that this was only his third time testing it and how was he supposed to know he’d be stuck in alt mode too?

He heard giggling and some hushed whispers; he went to find the source to find Nautica and some other bot on the med bay chatting away.

“And as an apology, Brainstorm gave me this multi-purpose wrench!”--Nautica

“You have to show me the button though.”--Bot

“Of course—Oh, look who’s here!”--Nautica

The bot in question spots him and goes quiet, Nautica took notice and looked at Brainstorm quickly moving out of the way so he could have a full view of the bot.

The bot was all scratched up, in desperate need of a new paint job, two legs missing and had a huge dent on the left side of their helm.

“Hey Brainstorm.”--Bot

“…Ummm… Do I know you?”--Brainstorm

He nearly regretted saying that after seeing the crushed look on their faceplate. Nautica and Chromdome were ready to knock some literal sensing into him.

“So… how that data pad of random poems going?”--Buddy

“What did you say?...”—Brainstorm

“The data pad of all the random poems? You know?”--Buddy

“…Buddy?”--Brainstorm

 “We were reading them every other cycle?”--Buddy

“Buddy?”--Brainstorm

 Wait, did you throw it away? I told you—”--Buddy

“BUDDY!”—Brainstorm

Brainstorm is hit by the reality brick when he realizes the bot was Buddy.

He squeals and practically jumps on top of them trapping them in a fierce hug that was sure to cause more dents.

He’d suffer Ratchet’s wrath later; he was sobbing up a storm as Buddy reciprocated the hug.

The others took this moment as a time to leave.

Brainstorm did in fact suffer Ratchet’s wrath later.

Brainstorm tried to scold Buddy in going on the mission, but he stops and begins asking where in Primus’s name where they this whole time.

As it turned out Buddy had managed to escape the ambush because they left the base a few minutes earlier. Why did they do it? They don’t know but they were glad they did.

After that they just ended up on the run after a few drones managed to find them. Buddy managed to run fast enough to make it to a jump ship and randomly punched in some coordinates before the rest caught up to them.

The ship then crashed into the planet below which conveniently knocked them into a stasis pod which only now reopened after a few rouge Insecticons began tearing the wreckage apart and one was very interested in their pedes and took them.

Brainstorm makes a mental note to find the Insecticon later. Brainstorm then gets Buddy up to speed with other things going on with the ship as Nautica gave them a brief rundown.

He wants to make Buddy’s new legs with built in guns.

Ratchet and most of everyone on board says otherwise. Brainstorm is glued to Buddy’s side during and after recovery.

He refuses to leave their side at all.

Buddy has to put up some boundaries to keep him from doing more dramatic things.

Aka blackmail.

Primus forbids someone having a crush on Buddy, brainstorm already has a questionnaire and 4 exams for them to complete for them to even begin to think about dating.

“Oh, you think you can just have them?”--Brainstorm

“Umm… yes?”—Random Bot

“Well, if your miniscule processor can get through these measly exams, then maybe you’ll have a chance with them.”--Brainstorm

[ejundo]

𖤐. ⭒. ๋࣭ ⭑

drabbledrabbledrabbledrabbledrabbledrabbledrabble

crack if that’s what its called erm? silly!!!

— random thoughts flooded my mind when at starbucks (to study) ransom… so i thought why not finally use my thoughts to. use! iykwim ??

warnings . - 𖤐. - cussing ? male reader and his enemy 🐺>.< [open to ftm :3] purposely lowercase.(somtimes uppercase) . 🌊 ⭑ ⭑ male reader male reader

!!! not proofread sorry if boring!!

it surely wasn’t a secret that the two were rivals… each and every class they conveniently had each other in. academic rivals sooo extremely cliché! y.n class president meanwhile, soo-yun was the student council president. they had always fought for the top of the class, bickering, nudging each other aggressively.

it certainly did not help that they were sitting next to each other. this only caused more arguments.theres always an effect to a cause right? well, here comes their consequence!

as per usual the two bickered and battered at each other, purposefully interrupting each other, kicking at their legs. even going so far as to yelling at eachother, the teacher being extremely mad. had slammed the desk aggressively ‘you two, have interrupted this class FAR to many times! stay after school for your punishment as you will be cleaning the gym top to bottom, including the theatre!’ the teacher aggressively said, she huffed as she pulled her glasses up.

soo-yun was shocked and so was y.n l.n, y.n being the most furious held the most bitchiest face up until the end of the day.

—

‘are you kidding me soo-yun!?’ y.n raised his voice as the two were the only ones in the school, well.. it seemed like it. ‘don’t fucking yell at me? your ass was the one being so fucking loud.’ soo-yun said in defense while looking down at the shorter male. his usual siren eyes and nonchalant expression not moving once while y.n gave him an earful.

‘lord i cannot BELIEVE that you got us into detention, arent you a student council? aren’t you supposed to be a good influence? not some loud obnoxio-‘

‘wow? do you never shut up?’ soo-yun interrupted the boys rambling. y.n furrowed his eyebrows and stormed off, taking deep breaths. ‘let us just grab the stuff from the janitors closet and we do our duty? yeah? and yes i do shut up just never around you!’ y.n said with a fake smile, continuing on signaling for soo-yun to follow him up to the third floor where their destination—janitors closet— would be

after a few minutes of walking, they eventually made it up to the third floor. soo-yun took the lead from now on as.. y.n wasn't aware as to where the janitors closet was. so, as y.n traveled at a reasonable distance behind soo-yun, he took notice of it. 'why are you so far away from me hm?' he turned his head to look at the short, aggresive, boy. 'afraid i'll bite?' soo-yun said in a cocky tone.

‘well if you, do. then there is a 99% chance i will catch rabies.’ y.n said with an extremely fake smile. rolling his eyes. ‘i see.. better stay far away from me. because i am not afraid to bite you y.n’ soo-yun grinned making a left into the corner of the third floor. one of the hot hookup places in the school.. its crazy.

y.n watched as soo-yun pulled out the key to the janitors closet, opening it up slowly letting y.n go first. ‘wow nicest thing you’ve done all. day!’ y.n said in a blunt tone. ‘aww how sweet of me?’ soo-yun smiled as he reached over the other boy to grab his own supplies, unintentionally holding his hip.

‘did you wear a new cologne?’ y.n mumbled as he slapped away soo-yuns hand. ‘you noticed?’ soo-yun looked down to y.n eyeing either his nose or his lips. ‘yes.. you smell less weird. and stop staring at my lips weirdo.’ y.n rolled his eyes reaching behind soo-yun to grab bleach for the bucket.

‘you’re so nice to me y.n…!’ soo-yun pat y.n’s head with a soft smile. ‘i love your sarcasm. now come on dingus..’

‘dont rush me!’

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ???

lowkey, this was a random thought while sitting in a starbucks with my head down as my friends chittered their chatter.! buuut this is soo-yun :3 just a silly

student council prezz >.< !! y.n is 18 and so is soo-yun 🤑 but i had some i dont really like this one because it seems boring and yk.. less interesting! soo-yuns fc is probably already posted after this!