#i scream we all scream for jazz making more friends

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

Part 2

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[marchsfreakshow]

Lovingly Obsessed [Warren Lipka]

Smut.

Warren's taken you out of your comfort zone wayyy too much for your liking. But you find yourself strangely in love with it despite the stoner's weird way of showing you his adoration.

Warnings: car fucking, public sex, quick oral, dub-con (almost?)

AAAAA! I don't know this will sound so bad and ooc I'm so sorry. Just take it! Warren has invaded my brain once again.

18+! MINORS DNI

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

It was like he found a crevice your mind nothing had ever occupied before. And made a home. It was like he had made himself comfortable there, and never floated away. Reaching into your brain and finding the comfortability, whipping it away from you. Throwing it away forever.

Warren Lipka truly was a man you hadn't been friends with before. What you were used to was nerdy, untouched men, loving anime and DnD. Not a man who'd love to drag you to parties just to get drunk, high, then make out in a corner for the rest of the night. With the music beating harsh in your heart. On edge practically 24/7 since Warren would appear at your window during the night because he wanted a midnight drive. And possibly to get sucked off.

Despite it all, you were oddly endeared to the man. Letting your hate for risk-taking fade every time he snuck you out of the house, or kept you at his all night. The only time Warren gave you 'i love you' was when you were in the backseat of his car, gripping onto the seat and desperately riding him. His grubby, unloved nails digging into your skin. The little crescent moons becoming more obvious the more he moved your hips for you. Constant squeaks of the car barely covering your moans, whimpers. It definitely covered up his quiet, reserved groans, however. "J-jesus I love you..." He muttered into your neck, sticking tiny marks on the skin.

"I love...you as well.." Was your obvious reply, panting and whimpering as your thrusts got more humpy, car squeaks slowing and quieting down.

"No, baby don't slow down... c'mon..there you go.." The man under you coaxed you to start picking the pace up again. He murmered desperate, fumbling, fucks and your name over and over like he didn't realise you were really there. His name being screamed out only drove him further to dig and plummet himself into you. More than he had before.

Simply losing yourselves in the hot, small car. The lonely car in the summer morning at an empty parking lot. Maybe a car all the way over there. One just parking over here. Workers already hating their 5am start, just to walk past the car, refusing to take notice of you and Warren. Whispy air, thickening with every noise leaving you. "Knees...knees. Now." Warren murmered desperately. His hand replacing you as soon as you started to manuvere yourself between his legs awkwardly. Open mouth, wide tongue... like you'd done this before. "Fuck- fuck! Jesus Christ...ha-" Were the words rapidly leaving him as he tugged your mouth down, forcing you to take every drop of his come, and every inch of his cock.

"Alright you can get up now." He stated, still catching his breath from unceremoniously thrusting up into your throat. Awkwardly, you climbed back into the passenger seat, shuffling your trousers back on as more workers' car's filled the parking lot.

There was a comfortable silence for a bit, as Warren drove you two, somewhere. But the road started to look long and desperate. You found yourself asking a question you thought you'd never ask anyone. "Can we get high, then fuck in McDonalds bathroom?"

You were perfect for the stoner driving next to you. He simply nodded in response.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina; Tucker is having a normal one. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

So yeah, definitely coffee, Tucker decides. Sam'll catch up, again. Which–also again, right now they're probably the ones who need to catch up to her, considering. Her and the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, specifically. Tucker always misses the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick when it’s not on deck, but he seriously misses it when it’s not on deck in situations like these. 

“So yeah, fyi, while we’re doing the running thing we gotta find my backup, she’s somewhere in the hall out there being a badass,” Tucker informs his hopeful weekend plans, pointing towards the door. “And possibly also our other friend, who she and I were looking for when we found you. So like, it’s very interesting, actually, that they were keeping you where they would’ve kept him, all things considered.” 

Very interesting. And probably concerning? Like, considering? 

. . . also possibly hot, though, Tucker realizes. Like, he’s very into situations like Sam going full anti-creep stick on the GIW and Jazz yelling down murderous ghosts and literally everything Val has ever done in her entire life, so if he’s more bisexual than previously assumed and this dude is, like, some kind of terrifying badass ecto-experiment with weird ghost powers or whatever, statistically speaking, Tucker is probably gonna be into that. And like, given the batshit sedative doses Tucker pulled and how quick the guy woke up and also the whole, like, literal flying thing, “weird ghost powers” seems pretty likely at this point. 

Well, forewarned is forearmed, he guesses. At least if Allegedly-Alive Amor is secretly some kind of dangerous anti-ghost weapon, Tucker’s gonna get to enjoy the experience of watching him get beat down by Danny. Like, as soon as they find Danny, he means. And also–

. . . actually, is it weirder that Tucker kinda wants to see this guy get a little messed up, now that he’s thinking about it? Like just in a minimally violent but definitively rumpled kind of way, maybe, or like, maybe kinda flushed and sweaty and out of breath and–

They should find Ecto-Babe some pants, Tucker decides privately, patting the guy’s chest in an attempt to distract himself and doing the actual exact literal opposite of distracting himself. 

Yeah, pants would be a good idea right now. 

Pants, fortunately–unfortunately, Tucker means–do not actually happen, because what actually happens is the guy takes off and zips out into the hall with Tucker all bridal style/princess carry in his wet, naked arms, and Tucker really needs to have a moment about that but definitely does not have the time to. Another reason to rip the security footage later, though, he figures as he types furiously at his PDA, making sure all his programs are still running in the GIW’s systems and showing the agents all the fake ghosts a Fenton could shake an anti-creep stick at. 

Probably he doesn’t actually need to check that, though, since they don’t make it through thirty yards of this surprisingly comfy high-speed flying experience before they’re coasting quick and easy over the heads of a hallway full of yelling and screaming agents who’re shooting each other more than any of the ghosts said agents think they’re seeing. 

That’s really unfortunate for them, gee. Tucker will have to send ‘em a “get well never, you xenophobic assholes” card. Maybe a fruit basket. One with nothing but cantaloupe in it, because the GIW deserves nothing but cantaloupe. Old cantaloupe, even. Like just old enough they’ll feel like they have to eat it before it spoils outright, but also the texture’ll be weird and–

“Uh, should we be worried about all that back there?” New Ecto-Boo asks, looking skeptically back at the GIW agents they’ve already passed–and also looking really fucking hot, still.

[scenteddelusion5]

Could you write a Vox x Alastor’s Child? Wherein reader views their fights as a “bonding activity” because it relieves stress for the both of them because they’re not willing to kill each other due to not wanting to hurt reader and they’ll be civil when they need to be. A large chunk of their rivalry being due to Alastor seeing Vox as trying to steal his child from him (making them his partner both romantically & business wise, them becoming an actor) and Vox seeing it the same way with Alastor trying to drag them on random outings when they’re supposed to film or have time together. - @am-i-interrupting

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 1

Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)

Note: At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this one, especially because i had already written a daughter character, already have a daughter oc myself and then would have this child. But then I had this Romeo and Juliet inspo in mind and now I wanted to do it.

!!!!! NOTE ABOUT REQUEST !!!!!

So I really liked the idea of this Vox and Alastor dynamic but I can't write short stories so instead I'm doing a 2 or 3 parter about how they got into this dynamic. So they aren't like how you requested yet.

Word count: 3436

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where denizen blood makes denizen teeth unclean, From forth the innovation of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers arise,"

Y/n sat on the balcony of their father's mansion. Nothing but trees, or at least hell's version of trees, could be seen from there. The bustling city was ways away from the territory most denizens were too afraid of to enter. The book they were reading was written a small auteur in hell, it was obvious that he had taken great inspiration from a much more famous work. An old-fashioned, cannibal and a modern man, with more savoury tastes, falling in love, their families hate each other yada yada yada. Nothing they hadn't read before.

The demon, whom resembled a deer, put their book down and started messing with the knobs on their older radio. It sprung alive with the voice of their father; Alastor the Radio Demon, feared all throughout hell. On his broadcast played a catchy jazz song that, every once in a while, got interrupted by agonizing screams.

"That was an amazing number." The Radio glowed green as he spoke. "It brings me all the way back to the nights I spend in the speakeasies. Let's continue on-"

Everyday Alastor would broadcast the news and gossip of the week at exactly 10 a.m. and Y/n would always tune in.

"- Oh, and make sure to stay clear of the Carmine mansion this evening. The overlords are having a little get-together. So if you don't want to be served for dinner, I recommend you go home early tonight."

Right, Camilla Carmine was holding a party to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Carmine industries. Y/n was so excited. Normally their father wouldn't let them go to parties, but considering he would be there, he allowed them to go this time.

"Lastly I have a personal message to my favourite fan. I couldn't have wished for a better fawn. I hope you liked the breakfast I cooked especially for you, that demon was a struggle to catch. Hahaha," he laughed, "see you after the broadcast. Let's put on (song), it's not really my style but considering it's your favourite, I can make an exception." Their song slowly came on while Alastor's voice faded.

Y/n hadn't made friends outside of cannibal town. They had to admit they were a bit nervous...

The day went by faster and faster as the night grew closer. Y/n had put on their green gown/suit. It was beautiful; adorned with black lace, a pattern of turns and roses sewn into it.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked while turning around.

Alastor, whose suit didn't look all THAT different from his usual one, studied them up and down. "You look delightful, fawn. Every single demon in that building will see green from jealousy."

"Thanks dad."

Despite the fact that cars were already owned by most citizens in the time Alastor was alive, he preferred to walk, even to such an important event as this. So, when the two off them arrived, they stepped in through a side door instead of the big red carpet where the limousines dropped off guests.

"Remember Y/n, don't talk to people you don't know and if something goes wrong, find me or Rosie." Alastor's antlers started to grow and static filled the air. "I'll destroy however dares to hurt you."

"Don't worry, dad. I'm an adult, I can take care of myself." They laughed off their dad's threatening stature. "But if something happens I can't handle, I'll go to you."

The ballroom was decorated with black gold and white. All kinds of denizens were roaming around, from high standing overlords to imp servants. There were no familiar faces. The only other overlord Y/n had ever met besides Alastor was Rosie. Even so they had immediately split up from Alastor in favour of exploring the buffet table.

After picking up a plate, they started picking the tastiest little snacks. There was even a few dishes with demon in them provided for the cannibals.

Vox had spent four hours making himself presentable in a fancy blue suit and a new screen protector. the other Vees had matched his style. So when the three stepped out of their high-tech car and got bombarded with paparazzi, it was clear that the three belonged together.

It isn't often that they had the chance to converse with other demons of their status. It was the perfect chance to make new connections.

Vox had gotten the chance with a few other demons before it happened. His eyes landed on the most beautiful person Vox had ever seen. Their looks hypnotized the tv-demon... Which was supposed to be HIS power.

"Hey Voxie, you never guess who I saw~... Voxie? Vox... VOX!" No matter how hard Valentino tried, he wasn't able to capture Vox's attention. "What are you looking at?..." Following his colleague's line of sight, Val's eyes landed on them too. "Oooohhh, I see~ Should I go talk to them for you, maybe I can convince them to stay the night in our bed."

Vox slightly buffered. "What! NO! I'm going myself, yeah, I can handle this myself."

Y/n was enjoying a lovely tea sandwich with raw, demon heart on it, when a person they didn't recognize came up to them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." The man with a tv for a head grabbed their hand and placed a kiss on their hand. "I'm Vox, and you are?"

"Y/n, and it's a pleasure to meet you too," they introduced themselves before shoving another tea sandwich in their mouth.

"You must really like those sandwiches."

Y/n aggressively nodded her head. "YES! Here try one!" they shoved one of them in Vox's face who reluctantly eat it.

"Wow, that's... an unique flavour."

"Yeah, heart does taste very peculiar but I like it."

It put Vox off that the demon had spoken so casually about cannibalism, however, he was even more put off that he was just fed ACTUAL DEMON. So, when they weren't looking, he drank an entire glass of champagne in one go, hoping to wash off the taste.

"Anyway... I was hoping to dance with you." Vox offered out his hand but pulled it away again when he saw the dissapointment in their face.

"I would love too but I don't think my father would be happy to see me dancing with anyone. I'm sorry."

He thought about it for a few seconds. "Y'know I'm quite familiar with this place, there is a smaller ballroom a few doors down. If you want to, you could take me up on the offer there." The overlord suggested.

Normally, Y/n would've never said yes. Going to an empty room with a stranger who must have quite a lot of power. Only an idiot would follow him... Maybe they were a bit of an idiot but Y/n was intrigued by the man, so much so that they decided to go.

"Alright."

Hours went by while the two of them danced, talked and drank in the empty ballroom. Y/n felt themself falling deeper and deeper in love with the handsome stranger. The confident way he spoke, the way he buffered and glitched whenever he got flustered, the way he would get angry when they hurt his pride by laughing at his attempts to woo them. He was perfect.

"Now, tell me Vox. Who exactly are you? Like, I know you your name but you must have been invited for a reason, so...??" Y/n asked.

"You mean you really don't recognize me?" Vox asked flabbergasted. "I'm the CEO of VoxTech." The other demon still looked confused. "The biggest tech company of hell? We release new products almost every single day."

"I'm not big on modern technology, I died during the 1920's," Y/n explained, "I tried using a computer once and it didn't go well."

"Well, that's really no good. As a demon of high society, you should keep up with modern invention, if you ever want the help I don't mind teaching you how to use it." Vox stared at them lovingly. "You know what, I'll even give you a phone. Give your address and I'll send you on-"

"HEY! Vox!" A girl with pink and purple hair walked in. She wore a poofy pink dress and her face was covered in make-up. Her bloodshot red eyes landed on the person standing next to her friend. "Oooeeehhh, and who are you?"

"Velvette, Y/n. Y/n, Velvette." Vox introduced them to each other. "They have been great company tonight, right love?" He caressed the side of their face."

Y/n got redder and redder as the conversation went on. "Yeah, it was great."

"Well, sorry that I gotta burst your bubble." Velvette interrupted the sweet moment between the two. "But the Carmines are about to have their speech and you know how pissy those old fuckers get about shit like this."

Y/n looked at the clock hanging on the wall and realised they had been gone from the party for hours. "Yeah, I should really be going back too. My father is provably worried about me."

The three swiftly made their way back to the main ballroom, Velvette joking about the two lovebirds the whole time.

Once there, they gathered by the crowd standing around a podium. Carmilla was standing there, already holding her speech about the start of her company, the amazing growth and the future. Although a very basic speech, demons were at the fact that the Carmine had mentioned future dealings and couldn't wait for the opportunity to become a part of them. One of them seemed to be the handsome TV Demon that Y/n had hopelessly fallen in love with over the course of the evening.

"Excited I see," Y/n said while pointing to the electricity coming off of Vox, "I'm not sure that a deal with Carmilla is going to happen if you electrocuted her."

"Hey! I'm a great negotiator. Thank you very much!" The man joked.

Alastor had kept his child in his sight the whole evening.... Until he didn’t. They were right over by the buffet table just a second ago. Y/n couldn’t have gone far. So, he went on a search, but after an hour, he found nothing. He even asked Rosie for help but no luck. He had stayed looking until Carmilla started her speech and even then Alastor still kept an eye open for her.

What he never expected to see, was his child, his lovely, well-behaved, miracle of a child, to be joking around with his nemesis. And were they.... Blushing?

Static filled the air around him, symbols floated around his head. The terrifying shadow of his ever-growing antlers made every demon and demoness run out of his way.

Once he got really close he could hear their conversation.

"You're such a dork!" His child laughed.

Alastor could only see their back, but he knew what their smile looked like right now. Unlike his plastered smile that hid his emotions, Y/n's was genuine.

"I'm the dork? Have you se-" Vox's eyes drifted to the strange red symbols, when he noticed Alastor standing there. A small x on his forehead, eyes like dials and his smile wide.

Normally, during their fights Alastor would be somewhat lenient with him. He still roasted Vox to the living world and back but he never outright tried to murder him. This meant that he had never experienced the true wrath of the Radio Demon. But right in that moment, Vox felt like his days were numbered.

"Holy shit," Velvette muttered.

Noticing the two Vees were looking behind them, Y/n turned around and as soon as they did, Alastor switched back to normal like clockwork.

"Oh, hey dad!" Y/n greeted him sweetly. "What are you doing?"

"Oh nothing, little fawn," the Radio Demon spoke, distain clear in his tone of voice, "now tell me, why are you wasting your time conversing with such vermin? Especially, a styleless one like that insecure, copycat, picture box."

Vox was still staring between the two of them. Y/n was Alastor's child! The one the Radio host always talks about, the only thing that freak actually seems to care about. Why did it have to be them the overlord had fallen in love with at that ball?

"You are the Radio Demons child!" The man freaked out.

"I didn't think you would care about that..." Y/n's face turned into a frown, unlike their father’s whose grin only grew wider.

"I-I" The tv started buffering. " I don't..."

"Come one Y/n, let's find someone with more class." Alastor turned around, his child in toe.

"Wow, can't believe you got the hots for that man's child." Velvette quickly snapped a picture of Vox's stunned face and send it to Valentino. You'll never guess what happened. She typed under it.

Y/n looked down at their shoes, not wanting to see their father's victorious grin. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Whatever do you mean, little fawn?"

"You know what," they replied sounding angry this time, "why did you scare away the first real people I made friends with here in hell?!"

Y/n had never had an attitude before, never talked back, never even sounded annoyed. It scared Alastor for a few seconds. "That... Vox isn't the type of person you should make friends with'."

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Tears filled their eyes and their voice was strained. "I want to go home."

Once home, Y/n attempted to rush up the stairs but was stopped by Alastor’s shadow grabbing them by the arm. They were struggling to get away when Alastor cupped their face with his hands and looked suspiciously in their eyes. He was searching for something.

"Let go of me!" Their eyes glowed as they screamed.

When Y/n tried to pull away again, Alastor's grip tightened. "You've never acted like this before. He must have hypnotised you, so be a doll and let me find his spell!"

But no matter how much he searched for even a sign of demonic manipulation. Did Vox not hypnotize them? Then why were they.... Because of Alastor's second of confusion, Y/n could quickly pull away. They rushed up to their room and locked the door.

Alastor just stood there, stunned until a knock came from the door. He straightened his suit before opening it.

"Hi Alastor, I saw you two... Leave and thought you might need a listening-ear." Rosie stepped inside and made her way to the dining room. "Besides I could really use a cup of thee after such a long night."

"You know me too well, Rosie. I'll get some snacks too."

"They've never even raised their voice at me before but one hour with that noisy rectangle and Y/n is acting like a rebelious teen." Alastor took a bite from the index finger snack. "I tried to look for a sign of hypnosis but there was nothing. What did he do to them?"

"Ever thought about it that Vox didn't do anything?" Rosie suggested.

Alastor's pupils turned into dials. "Hmm? What did you just say?"

"Ya have to think about this differently." Rosie took a sip from her tea. "A demon always buried in their books with little to no interaction with the outside world goes out for the first time in years and meets a charming man who's interested in them. It's just like one those romance tropes they always reads about."

The other overlord considered it. "Then what do you suggest we do about it. How can I show them that they deserve much better?"

"First of all, have a conversation with them. A genuine one."

"And then?"

Rosie's smile showed her sharp teeth. "Then-"

Vox was still buffering from that crazy night. He fell in love with ALASTOR'S CHILD, for god's sake. He was connected to his advanced computer, rebooting his systems. Images of Y/n, memories he saved in his files, flashed over the many monitors in his room. The doors to his office opened revealing the other two Vees.

"Damn, Voxie. You've never had to reboot after we've 'hang out' before." Valentino leaned over his colleague's shoulder. "You aren't going to demote me from being your favourite, right?"

"I wouldn't sound so confident Val. Vox was pretty hooked last night, you should've seen him." Velvette pulled up the picture she took. "This photo doesn't do his obsession justice."

"Stop it, Velvette." The TV Demon unplugged himself from the computer set-up. "It's never going to work out anyway. And it's all that shitty, old demon's fault!"

"You really think that?" Velvette asked. "I mean, they looked pretty interested to me... You could always go over to them and explain yourself. Oh and while you're there, try to find a snoop that'll make my drama Sinstagram go viral."

"Voxie doesn't need them. Just stay with me and I'll make you forget them in just five minutes." The moth demon's cigarette smoke formed a heart.

The screen buffered once more. "Get out! The both of you."

"I'll wait in my room." The two Vees made their way out.

Once he was sure they were gone, Vox pulled up another file. Y/n's beautiful face showed on the screen and their addicting laugh filled the room.

Y/n sat against their door, crying. They could see the moon through the balcony window. It's red light filled the room. They couldn't believe their father had reacted like that. And they couldn't get the face Vox made when he released their connection to the Radio Demon out of their head. It plagued their mind since the moment it happened.

Their room seemed so small, so empty, so cold. Nothing had physically changed but mentally, emotionally, everything was different. They got a taste of that beautiful romance and it was taking away from them in the blink of an eye.

Y/n was so deep in their self-pity that they didn't notice the moonlight was blocked by something. They were jolted out of their own thoughts by a knock on the window.

Looking up they saw none other than Vox standing there. His suit was covered in dirt and branches that he got certainly caught in on his way there.

They quickly walked over to open the door, stumbling on their way.

"Y/n, I- uhm, you must find it weird that I show up on you balcony like this." Vox's screen got slightly red. "I wanted to apologize for this evening. I don't care who your father is, I- uhm I care about you."

"Vox, I need you to be honest with me. Did you hypnotize me?"

Y/n's sad look broke his heart. Who got into their head that he hypnotized them?

"Y/n, I didn't and I will never do it." He put his hand on their cheek. "I promise."

Blush decorated their face. "Then can you tell me what's going on between you and my dad?"

"Of course."

The two sat on their bed, cuddling. Vox had told them about everything. The start of their feud, his constant fighting with Alastor but also the fact that he fell in love with them at first sight. It was a lovely, domestic moment.

"One time I got so angry at your dad that I made a complete smear campaign against him. it didn't work out, he completely cut off all my broadcasts, all seventy channels."

"I think he once told me about that," Y/n laughed, "you get more under his skin then you think. Even before he saw he two of us together."

"If you say so..."

Their banter went on for hours. The two did their best to keep sounds to a minimum so Alastor wouldn't find out.

"Oh, before I leave, here." Vox handed them a white box. "it's a phone. I made sure to remove all spying devices and I programmed you a special assistant. It should help you figuring out how it works."

"You put spying devices in people's phones?"

"Uh-I"

"Don't worry, I get it. It's hell. There is no need to explain yourself."

"Right." Vox tried to laugh it off like Y/n was doing. "It's getting late, I should go. Wouldn't want the Radio Demon to know I'm meeting up with his daughter without a chaperone."

This time when Y/n was separated from Vox, they felt fine. Because they knew that he loved them. They were still longing for him, but not in a sad way. It was pure, romantic love.

Part 2

Masterlist/request guidelines

[dewdropdinosaur]

Paradise Hypnotized

LUCIFER X M READER X LILLITH (POLY) Summary: As the extermination wages outside, lost and new lovers find themselves with the opportunity to discover each other Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI Oral sex, p in a sex, mentions of a strap, poly sex, sexual themes, use of pet names, and probaby a lot of other things I am forgetting

The night was thick with the smog of the city’s underbelly. Outside, an extermination was underway, a chaotic dance of flames and death lead by an angelic chorus of war cries and screams. Inside the dimly lit royal mansion, however, the world was serene. The clinking of glasses and the soft hum of jazz set the mood for an unexpected dinner with two of Hell's most infamous residents. Y/N were seated at a corner table, a single candle flickering between him and his companions. Lilith and Lucifer, both radiating a magnetic charm, were seated across from him, their expressions a mixture of amusement and intrigue. While Y/N had long not seen the two of his old friends since the Fall, there last request the angel before departing back to Heaven.

Y/N glanced nervously out the window of the posh, candle-lit dining room. Outside, Hell’s tumultuous nightlife was in full swing, with the unmistakable sounds of chaos punctuating the night—demonic roars, explosions, and the occasional shriek. But inside, the mood was decidedly more refined. The grand mahogany table was laden with an exquisite spread: rare delicacies from the underworld, exotic fruits, and an assortment of infernal spirits that bubbled and crackled in crystal decanters. Lillith and Lucifer, sitting on either side of Y/N, exuded a sophisticated air despite the pandemonium just beyond the walls.

“Quite the contrast, isn’t it?” Lillith mused, her eyes twinkling as she sipped a glass of shimmering wine. Her gaze never left Y/N, and a playful smirk danced on her lips.

“Ah, yes,” Y/N replied, managing a smile as he watched her with an appreciative eye. “This world below is a bit more… lively than I expected.”

Lucifer, draped in his opulent attire, leaned closer with a languid grace. “You know, it’s not every day we get to enjoy a meal with an old friend while the city’s being purged. Quite the rare opportunity.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the tension of the outside world begin to dissipate in the warmth of their company. “It’s certainly a memorable experience. Thank you for agreeing to my request.”

“Oh of course. How could we say no to such an old friend? After all, you truly helped us out before it all.” 

“Well how couldn’t I. I may not agree with what you stand for but I certainly wont stand for anyone, even you two, being shamed and cast down. You are deserving of respect.”

“Tch, how sweet. So…saint-like.”

“And how are you finding it so far?” Lucifer’s voice was smooth, each word dripping with a charm that made Y/N’s heart race. “Hell, I mean.”

“Well, like I said…it’s certainly lively. Can hardly even smell the brimstone.”

“You’re not feeling overwhelmed, I hope? Cause if so, I would be happy to find a remedy.”

Lillith laughed softly, a sound as rich and captivating as the finest wine. “Oh, Lucifer, you know how to flatter. But really, Y/N, we’re just glad you could join us tonight. It’s not often we get to enjoy such delightful company amidst the madness.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed slightly as he met her gaze. “Well, I must say, having dinner with the two of you makes the chaos outside feel distant

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Perhaps we should make a habit of this—dinner amidst the destruction. It adds a certain… flair, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lillith reached over and lightly touched Y/N’s arm, her fingers lingering. “I must admit, it does make for an intriguing atmosphere. And who knows, maybe we’ll even find a way to make it a bit more… memorable~.”

Y/N felt a shiver run down his spine at her touch, her gaze holding his with an intensity that left him breathless. “I can’t argue with that.”

Lucifer, noticing the growing tension, decided to stir the pot a little more. “It’s clear that the evening’s chaos is not the only thing heating up. Perhaps we should address this growing… chemistry.”

Lillith’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, Lucifer, always so….humorous. I think Y/N might just be here for dinner.”

Y/N smirked, it tugging at his the corners of his lips. “Is that so? Well, I must say, I’m intrigued.”

—————NSFW BELOW CUT

Lucifer smirked, sliding his short stature over to Y/N. “It’s been nearly two centuries since I’ve seen you and I will admit…the thought has intruiged me—“

Y/N rose his eyebrow, arching it in both confusion and as a display of asking the short king(hehe author joke) to continue. 

“Wouldn’t you agree Lillith?”

“Oh Lucifer, I would have no idea what you are talking out.”

Y/N slowly rose from his seat, sauntering over to Lucifer. “Oh but I would.” Smirking and leaning down to whisper in the king’s ear, “You would just love it wouldn’t you? How dirty it is, how shameful that you are doing this right in front of your beautiful wife.” 

Lillith’s eyes widen in recognition but settling into a lustful stare at the pair. Y/N continued “But you’re greedy aren’t you darling. You would want her there, both of us. Doing all those naughty little things running around in your head.” 

Lillith started to get up but was quickly stopped by Y/N, who wagged his finger in disappointment. “Tch, tch, tch. No my little poisonberry; you stay right there.” Moving over to Lillith, Y/N dragged his chair along with him; settling next to the queen. With darkened eyes and finally seated, Y/N grabbed Lillith’s chin gently. 

“Why don’t you come over here and sit in my lap mhm? They don’t have things as pretty as you in Heaven.” Lillith, nodding obendiently, crawled over into Y/N’s lap, wrapping her arms around his slender frame. Turning his head back to Lucifer, who sat no so quitely palming his trousers, gained his attention with a snap. “Pay attention now darling, my eyes are up here.” Taking his queue once Lucifer looked up, Y/N dove into kiss Lillith. A clash of tongue and teeth, nothing but a mess of pure erotica and a sense of want. A total and primal consumption of self to satiate the burnig desire within. Breaking from the kiss, both parties panting, Y/N motions with his finger for Lucifer to come over. Crawling on his knees, the king humbled whimpers as Y/N then cups his cheek and kiss him with the same passion and fevor as Lillith. Seeing an opening, Lillith starts to suck on Y/N’s neck, bright red and soon to be bruises forming in a path of affection and lust. 

After some stumbling and a few apologies to the butler, all three parties ended up in the master bedroom. With a quick snap of his fingers, both Lillith and Lucifer were left shirtless; toned and slender bodies on full display. Eyes darkened with hunger at the sight of their bare forms, a silent understanding among them of what was about to happen. 

Y/N leaned down and took one of Lillith’s hardened nipples in his mouth, the warmth of his tongue teasing the aroused bud. Dragging his hands across her torso, he slowly marked her skin with every passing touch. Lucifer, instead dipped down and spread her thighs, enjoying the way they felt in his hands. Slowly kissing up her thighs, just barely ghosting over where she needed him most, Lillith let out a soft moan. 

“Sweetheart, see what you do to me? You are absolutely breathtaking.”

Finally giving into her whimpers, Lucifer licked one long stripe up her dripping slit only for his head to be pulled back; moaning at the impact with his hair. 

“Did I say you could taste her, mhmm? No, but you had to go a be a greedy little thing huh darling?” Tossing Lucifer on the bed, Y/N towered over him. 

“Now you’re going to be good and make me feel good yeah? Yeah, that’s right.” Snapping his fingers, Lucifer ended up behind Y/N. Understanding his job, Lucifer lined up his aching member to the angel’s hole and slid in slowly. Y/N gasped at the stretch, gripping the sheets with each small thrust. Lillith whimpered at the sight, both aroused but feeling neglected as her weeping cunt was slick and cold. 

“Poor thing, don’t worry—ahh fuck—I’ll take care of you sweetheart.” Diving into Lillith’s pussy, despite the, while timid, assualt from behind, Y/N relentessly sucked and licked on that sweet spot like a man starved, sucking on her clit and slurping her jucies tin a way that made it seem like it was better than heavenly ambrosia. It was only a matter of time before that familiar band became taut in her stomach. 

“Fuck, Y/N…..sir, please.”

“Let go my poisonberry, let sweetheart cum all over my face.” 

That’s what did it, Lillith felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Y/N’s name. Cum now coated his face and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses/ Lifting his head up slowly, slick shone and glinted. Licking his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and both moaned at the salty taste. Pulling back, Y/N halted Lucifer’s movements, who whimpered at the loss of friction. 

With another snap, Lucifer and Lillith has switched positions, Lillith now adoring a vibrant purple strap. “Do me a favor and do better than ducky here okay Lilly?  So senstive couldn’t even fuck right.” 

With a flash of her teeth, Lillith snapped her hips foward, allowing Y/N but a moment to enjoy the new intrusion. “Shit—ahh…just like that.....don’t think I forgot about you yet Luci~”. 

And that’s how the night continued. Despite the waging war and death outside the windows, some semblance of love could prevail. They say love and hope are fragil things, soft as a feather. But in reality, they are both fighters, wiping the blood from their brows and rising again for the next round to defend the things they hold dear. And so in the darkness, bodies strewn together in a hopeful loving haze of lust and adoration; each person in their own right rose and fought for each other simply by allowing themselves the vulerabiluty of an intimacy forbidden by even God. 

[aprocessionofthoughts]

The Best Laid Plans

ectoberhaunt24 day 7- EH past, bury fandom- dp x dc TW- implied major character death summary- they can't let them win

masterlist ao3

This hadn’t been the plan, not really. The portal needed to be blown up before the GIW could send a nuke through, but they had wanted to evacuate the town before hitting the button to blow up the portal.

They hadn’t expected the GIW blockade, including the ghost shield around the town. There were GIW forces surrounding the entire town, there was nowhere to sneak through, and the ghost shield went underground. Danny had checked. 

They were blocked in. No one could get out. 

Now Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Danny sat in Sam’s room, staring at each other.

“What are we supposed to do?” Danny whispered. “There’s too many agents, and there are too many protections against ghosts and people.”

“We can’t let them nuke the Zone, that would destroy everything. On both sides.” Sam said.

“But if we destroy the portal…” Jazz trailed off.

“It would blow up the whole town.” Tucker finished. “That much backlash energy… who knows how far the destruction would reach.”

“So, what do we do?” Danny asked. How could they decide? If they failed to stop the GIW, it would mean the end of everything. But if they went through with their plan, then… the whole town would die. His friends would die. His sister and parents would die. And what would happen to him? Would he become a full ghost? Would he be Ended?

“We need to do it.” Jazz said. “It’s–it’s the only real option. We’ll die either way.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

Danny kept hoping Clockwork would intervene, would make the GIW disappear, or let Danny go back in time to stop everything sooner.

“I agree.” Sam whispered, drawing her knees to her chest. Danny and Tucker scooted closer to her, leaning against her sides. Jazz sat next to Danny and draped her arm over his shoulders.

“Tomorrow.” Tucker said. “They aren’t planning on nuking the Zone till tomorrow evening. So, we’ll act tomorrow morning. We deserve one more night before…”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Danny said. 

They spent the rest of the day together, curled into each other, talking quietly, or watching movies, playing Doomed. But mostly they just sat silently together. Danny only left once to check on the GIW to make sure plans hadn’t changed.

They fell asleep all curled up together.

The next morning, there were tears and hugging before they sat gathered in a circle around the remote detonator. 

“There’s just… one more thing.” Jazz said, sharing a glance with Tucker and Sam before getting up and grabbing something from Sam’s dresser behind Danny.

His friends shared a look before turning to him.

“Danny…” Sam started. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and Danny’s eyes started to well up again. “Just remember we all love you. And you deserve a second chance.”

“What are you–” Danny started, but then there was a click behind him, and he was enveloped in blue light.

—--

Way up, in a secret satellite orbiting the planet, sensors began to scream as screens flashed. Heroes rushed to see what had happened. The data indicated a huge burst of energy had originated from somewhere in Illinois, an area that, according to mapping data, was supposed to be uninhabited. 

But when Batman looked into it to see what the possible source could have been, he came across government censors. His fingers froze above the keyboard for a second before he began issuing commands for a reconnaissance mission.

Whatever had happened, Batman was almost positive, it was not without casualties. 

And he was right.

The center of the destruction stretched on for miles of barren land originating from a large crater. And the towns nearby were showing signs of destruction as well as the effects that were associated with nuclear radiation. Most of the League had gone to those areas to help, but Batman, Superman, and Martian Manhunter had remained to investigate the starting location.

So far, they had found nothing. But then Martian Manhunter had paused.

“What is it?” Batman asked.

“I sense a presence. They are barely aware, and their thoughts are muffled, but there is someone here.”

Batman and Superman followed Manhunter toward a seemingly empty patch of land. “Under here.” he said.

Superman scanned the ground before he began digging through the dirt. It wasn’t long before he pulled up a small cylindrical object that resembled a– thermos?

“The presence is coming from in there.” Manhunter said.

Batman frowned. “We’ll take it with us. We can investigate further in the Watchtower once we’ve made sure it wasn’t the source of the explosion.”

They headed back to the ship. Batman looked once more over the destruction. He couldn’t help but think that this could have been prevented if he’d noticed something sooner. There was something that he had missed. And it wasn’t just that this area looked uninhabited on maps. Someone had gone to great effort to hide something here. He’d need to look into it. Find out what had been hidden.

He looked at the thermos that Superan carried. Hopefully, whoever, or whatever, was in that thermos could help. And hopefully, the League would be able to make up for not preventing this in the first place.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 6

It's Wednesday! (I'm ignoring the clock that says it's 2 AM. It's totally still Wednesday. I haven't gone to bed yet which means it can't be Thursday.)

So, since it's obviously still Wednesday, it's time for another WIP Wednesday. We're getting into the real meat of the plot of this arc with this update! And now you'll maybe start to see where I'm gonna take this.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

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And that was when a large, swirling-green gash opened up in the night sky and dozens of ghosts started pouring through.

“Oh man!” exclaimed Sam as they watched the ghosts wreak havoc on the street. “I’ve never seen this many ghosts attack at once!”

Danny held out his thermos as he stared. “I’m gonna need a bigger thermos.”

The ghosts all appeared to be wearing uniforms and held batons as they attacked civilians and police indiscriminately.

“Uh, Danny?” asked Tim. “Should we call in back up?”

“No!” One of the ghosts got close to their group and Danny quickly sucked it into the thermos, dropping Jazz’s milkshake in the process. “Dammit. Absolutely not. It’s bad enough with three metas here. No more.”

Across the street, they saw a couple running from three of the invaders. One of the ghosts turned invisible and entered the body of the man who went stiff before sprinting to catch up to his partner and grabbing her to hold her still.

Then one of the other ghosts turned a garbage can over the both of them. The one overshadowing the man left his body, leaving the humans crying and covered in garbage as the ghosts laughed.

“I see,” said Tim. “How do we protect Bart, Cassie, and Conner?”

“You’re metas?” asked Sam.

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, nothing special, but… I don’t want to see what a ghost could do with my powers.”

“Let’s get back to my place. My parents might be crazy, but the ghost shield works. And then we can make a plan.”

Tim nodded. “I’ll lead. Kon, Bart, Cassie, you three need to stay in the middle. Sam, Tucker, you watch our sides and Danny, take up the rear. Capture any ghosts that try to approach us.”

Amity, even during a ghost invasion, was much easier to navigate than Gotham and Tim was able to lead them back to Danny’s house without getting lost. Every scream made him want to stop and help, though. He hated being useless.

Behind him, he could hear muttered curses from his teammates and knew they felt the same. But they needed weapons. Ones that could actually hit a ghost. And they needed to make sure they could fight off any overshadowing.

A TV was thrown out of a house through a window next to them sending shards of glass raining on the ground. Sam let out a string of curses.

“Sam!” called Danny. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. Just a slice to my arm.”

“We’re almost there,” said Tim. “We’ll check it out.”

He was flat out running now, could hear the others just behind them. They turned a corner and he could see the glowing FentonWorks sign. He grit his teeth and continued to run away from the mayhem, fighting every instinct he had. He wouldn’t be able to help if he stayed. He repeated it as a mantra with every step.

And finally they were there, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, ushering his friends in first.

Once inside, Danny flipped a few switches and metal slammed down over the windows, though no guns or lasers came out of the walls.

“Okay. No ghosts can get in now.”

“Danny!” Jazz came running down the stairs. “You’re all okay! Mom and Dad rushed out as soon as the attack started. What’s going on?”

“Jazz! Sorry, I dropped your milkshake on the way here. And not much, just, you know, a ghost invasion.” Danny’s laugh was bordering on hysterical.

“But you’re all safe?”

“Sam?” asked Danny. “How’s your arm?”

“I think it’s all right.” Sam grimaced as she held some tissues to the injury.

Jazz joined and led her to the kitchen. “Come on, let me clean that up for you. What happened?”

“A ghost threw a TV through a window. A piece of glass got me as we ran by.”

Tucker turned on the Fenton’s TV and switched to the news channel.

“I’m Shelly Makamoto and this is Ghost Watch,” an Asian woman said in a cheerful voice. “Ghosts, can you believe it, real ghosts are invading Amity Park right now. Emergency vehicles are struggling to get through the invasion, so if you are injured and in an area of high ghost concentration, help may be delayed. It is recommended you remain put and wait until first responders are able to get to your area. Currently, the ghosts are most focused on the downtown area, so the hospital is spared at this time. We can only hope this doesn’t change. Now, our weatherman Lance Thunder is out right now, so lets switch to him to get an on-the-scene report.”

They all watched in silence as a male reporter cowered behind an overturned car as he gave his report.

Sam and Jazz returned just a moment later. Sam had a large bandaid over her arm but shook her head when Danny shot her a questioning look.

“It’s fine. Clean cut.”

Tim relaxed as well. “Glad to hear it,” he said.

Jazz nodded. “Nothing to be concerned about at all. Thanks for getting the ghost shield up, Danny. I always forget which switch is the weapons and which is the shield.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. She was lying. Why was she lying?

“Yeah, no problem. We’re gonna go to the lab. Tim and his friends have self defense training, Gotham, you know? So I want to see if we have any weapons in the vault that they’d be comfortable with.”

“Great. I’m gonna be in my room. As class president, I want to try and make sure everyone is safe so I’ll be on the phone with my door shut. Knock before you enter!” Then she was running back up the stairs and slamming the door to her room.

Tim exchanged a glance with Cassie. That was weird.

But next to him, Danny let out a breath. “Okay, so she’s out of the way. Sam, you sure you’re okay?

Sam grimaced. “It stings a bit, but it’s fine. Jazz put disinfectant and antibiotic cream on it.”

“Great. Well, not great.” Danny grimaced and Sam punched him on the arm.

Tim cleared his throat. “You said something about weapons?”

Conner nodded. “Yeah, did you say you have a weapons vault?”

Danny laughed. “You saw the home defense system. Are you really surprised?”

Cassie shook her head. “Your parents are evil scientists, aren’t they?”

Danny led them down a set of stairs. “I wouldn’t call them evil. They’re just… a bit single minded.”

And then Tim was standing in their lab for the first time. It was all silver chrome and neon green accents. But worse, it was messy. Half assembled inventions were scattered haphazardly over every surface. And was that a half eaten sandwich on the bench? Ectoplasm dripped off one of the counters onto a puddle on the floor.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny walked in without concern, but Tim and his team held back.

Danny realized they weren’t following and looked back in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“No offense,” said Bart as his eyes darted around, “But, uh, is it safe?”

“What do you mean?” asked Danny, but then he looked around and noticed the mess. “Ah. Hang on a sec. I’ll get you rubber gloves and boots you can slide on over your shoes. That’ll keep you safe enough.”

Sam helped and soon enough they were passing the protective gear over. Meanwhile, Tucker sat down at a computer and pulled up the news report so they could keep tabs on what was going on.

“Can we get eye protection as well?” asked Tim once he had everything on.

“Sure. Mom and Dad have plenty of goggles.” Danny grabbed a few of those as well.

Still not entirely comfortable, Tim finally stepped into the lab. On the far wall, behind yellow and black doors was the portal he’d heard so much about.

Danny followed his gaze and put a hand on his arm. “Come on, Tim. The weapons vault is over here.”

-----

Next

This should be enough to figure out which episode I'm using as the base for this arc! It's not quite the Ghost Fight people were hoping for in the comments of the last update, but I think this is gonna be better.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit

[anon-e-miss]

At Waiting's End - 7 Consequences

Camshaft was uneasy. Though Optimus Prime had been an ally in the evacuation, he was still a Prime and Camshaft had seen the degradation Cybertron had suffered under Zeta and Sentinel and he did not trust the Matrix of Leadership’s decision making at all. The mech would need to prove himself because carrying the Matrix was a mark against him and not a boon. It had been a long time since Camshaft had been in Iacon. He had never gained access to the Primal Palace from which the Autobot base had emerged. His handlers had been more concerned with technologies and trade secrets and not the cult of the Prime. One of ten thousand refugees, Camshaft did not go unnoticed, Autobots cast him a long look here and there as he explored the grounds. They left him be, which was exactly what he wanted.

“They’re treating that slut like a hero,” a voice sneered. Cocking his helm to the side, Camshaft approached. Fury quickly built in his spark. Was this the mech Prowl had mentioned? The mnemosurgeon.

“Didn’t he shoot down that trine?” Someone else asked.

“That’s his story,” the Tagonian sneered. “I can’t believe Jazz is buying that that’s his bitty. You’d think he’d be smarter than to get conned into raising someone Con’s bastard.”

“You think he was clanging with a Con?” The Seeker asked.

“How do you think the Cons got through Praxus’ legendary defences?” The mech asked. “Obviously that traitor was...”

Crack!

The smartmouth’s friends jumped back as Camshaft hit him with a vicious right hook. He fell to the ground, visor shattered. Angry flashed from yellow optics and he tried to lunge at Camshaft but the spy spun and kicked him in the chassis, sending him flying. Camshaft pinned him down with one ped. Revealing himself to be exactly who Camshaft had thought him to be, the mnemosurgeons needles slowly extended from his servo, meant to be used as a weapon of course. Glaring into his optics, Camshaft smashed his ped down on that servo, spearing his palm with the blade hidden in his heal. The mech screamed. As one of the mech’s friends approached, Camshaft cocked his helm.

“I have no quarrel with you,” he said. “On the surface. You do keep this cretin’s company and that is a point against you.”

“Uh... we aren’t actually friends or anything,” the Seeker said, raising his servos.

“Coward,” the mnemosurgeon growled.

“You would do well not to speak,” Camshaft warned him. “If I hear you have spoken my creation’s designation or eluded to him in slanderous conversation again I will rip out your glossa and then drive those needles you violated him with through your optics.”

“You are Prowl’s originator?” A mech with a scope on his shoulder asked. He had a refined accent that suggested he had been educated in the Towers.

“Yes,” Camshaft replied. He gave the mech a look of challenge. Camshaft knew his creation had not felt welcome among the Autobots.

“Well,” the Seeker said. “You’re terrifying.”

“That is a sensible reaction,” Camshaft replied. “Should your security forces wish to speak with me, I am staying with Jazz.”

They did not try to detain him, no doubt because they were terrified. If that cretin wanted to file a complaint against him, Camshaft would welcome it. Was it Chromedome that he called himself now? Prowl had told Camshaft two designations for the same mech and he could not remember which was current. It did not matter. He was the sludge beneath Camshaft’s peds. He had never suffered a consequence for his abuse of his needles and now he had. Camshaft did not mind facing the consequences of this small act of vengeance, if it suited the Prime to dispense them. It would have suited Camshaft well enough to kill the afthole but he was too well-practised to kill openly. Should Chromedome not abide his order, Camshaft would consider escalating his vengeance but it would not be public and it would not be traceable to him. He was far too professional to be caught out so easily.

“Cam?” Camshaft froze. His processor pinched not unlike Prowl’s did when he had a crash brewing but Camshaft’s never went so far. Slowly he turned. How could it be? “Holy Pit, it really is you.”

“Downshift,” Camshaft whispered the designation. How could it be? He had met this mech in Polyhex, spying on Straxus’ operations. How could he be here in front of him after so long?”

“It’s been a long time,” Downshift said, smiling. “I’ve been thinkin’ o’ ya since Megs hit Praxus, wonderin’ if ya was there.”

“I was in the catacombs,” Camshaft explained.

“I’m headin’ to a security call, can I buy ya a drink, this dark-cycle?” Downshift asked.

“I... sure... yes,” Camshaft replied.

“Great!” Downshift exclaimed. “Maccadam’s, 8 o’clock?”

“I will see you there,” Camshaft promised.

Downshift smiled again and disappeared around the corner, going to the security call Camshaft assumed actually involved him. It seemed like a good time to go home. What was he thinking? Maybe he would just... no, Camshaft could not lie to himself so easily, he knew damn well he would be going to that bar. What was he thinking? He had told Downshift had been called home on urgent business. That business had been the carrying Camshaft had uncovered. After Sideways had stolen Barricade from him, Camshaft had been unwilling to risk losing another bitlet and he had followed Praxian tradition and had gone home to emerge his creation. From then on, Camshaft had remained in Praxus, raising his creation, guarding him from those that considered his glitch a fatal flaw. He had never considered tracking Downshift down. That was not what Praxians did. Yet, Downshift was half Praxian. Smokescreen looked entirely Praxian but in reality, his code was made up of more Polyhexian code than it did Praxian. Prowl had no idea.

“Originator, are you alright?” Prowl asked when he returned home.

“The Autobot Security Forces may be calling,” Camshaft explained, though that was not the reason he no doubt looked ashen.

“Why?” Prowl asked. He held Smokescreen tightly. Oblivious, the little bitlet continued to nurse. Bluestreak, sitting on a pillow at Prowl’s peds, looked up from his book.

“I came across a loathsome mech speaking ill of you and my grandcreation,” Camshaft explained.

“Who?” Jazz asked, stepping from the kitchen. His originator, Punch, was with him.

“Chromedome was the glyph Prowl used once,” Camshaft replied.

“What was he sayin’?” Jazz asked.

“It is of no matter,” Prowl spoke up. Jazz canted his helm to Camshaft. He wanted his answer.

“He called him a slut and suggested Smokescreen had been sired by a Decepticon,” Camshaft explained. “That he aided the Decepticons in annihilating Praxus.”

“That piece of scrap,” Jazz growled. “I knew ya had issues but I ne’er knew it was that bad.”

“Prowl... you never told him?” Camshaft asked. “Now would be the time since I may have mentioned it when I was kicking his aft.”

“Jazz, Chromedome used his needles on me,” Prowl explained, as sparkling safely as he could. “It was not invited. It happened more than once.”

“‘M gonna kill ‘m,” Jazz growled.

“Do not,” Prowl ordered.

“If yer worried ‘bout Jazz gettin’ into trouble, what wit the bitty, I can take care o’ it,” Punch offered.

“No one is killing Chromedome,” Prowl said.

“Bitlet,” Camshaft said. “He is worth the paperwork.”

Prowl disagreed. It was not in his nature to fight bullies. He had learned to ignore them, they had just been too numerous in Praxus. But Chromedome had effected Prowl’s inclusion in the Autobots, having enlisted after him and he had effected Prowl’s sense of self and security and that was unforgivable. Feeling like an outsider, Prowl had fled the moment he had learned he was gravid, afraid somehow he would lose the bitlet, despite the fact that he had loved Jazz dearly. Vorns of bullying and harassment had made Prowl feel too vulnerable, especially with the onslaught of maternal code. Camshaft did not believe one beating was adequate punishment, only utter ruination or death would sate the originator’s wrath. He was, however a patient mech and he was willing to wait to sate his energon lust.

Jazz resolved the matter with the Autobot Security Forces. His glyphs, being the third in command, carried a great deal of wait and Chromedome was now finding himself the target of an investigation, instead of the victim of a crime. Camshaft showered but he did not polish. This was not a date and he did not wish to give Downshift the wrong impression. Prowl seemed worried as he readied himself to go but Camshaft reaffirmed his promise that he was not going to trouble Chromedome. His creation knew something was off and Camshaft did not believe he was terribly reassured. Camshaft brushed his crest against his creations as he snuggled with his bitlet and his mechling. Bluestreak was theirs, if not legally, in spark and that was what counted. He did not have the glyphs to tell Prowl that he the acquaintance he was meeting was his progenitor, so he did not. For the moment, Camshaft did not know if he would even tell Downshift. So much time had passed, what would even be the point?

“Oh frag,” Camshaft moaned loudly.

Downshift mouth was on his neck, his servos on his aft and his spike, buried deep in his core. His legs and arms were wrapped around the other mech as they moved together. Arching his back, Camshaft hooked his leg over Downshift’s hip and urged him deeper. Bowed over him, Downshift held Camshaft’s servos above his helm as he kissed his face, his neck, his wells. They were not even intoxicated. Downshift had bought a round of drinks and then invited Camshaft back to his habsuite to talk more, though they had not managed much talking. It was just like the first dark-cycle they had met. The attraction, physical and sexual, had been instantaneous and all encompassing.

“I never stopped thinkin’ bout ya,” Downshift told him when they rested later, intertwined.

“I as well,” Camshaft replied. He dimmed his optics. How was he going to dig himself out of this mess.

[loves0phelia]

Can you do a Matt Murdock metting reader and they hit it off instantly.

( Btw this is my first requesting something )

Promise

Summery: the request

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol, grammar mistakes (always)

A/N: thank you for requesting I love matt so much and writing for him makes me so happy, also this is far from perfect so i hope you will like it anyway xxx

After a long day at work all you wanted to do was crash, and curl in bed with cheap ramen from a cup, while watching one of your recent favorite shows. Unfortunately, that idea was forgotten when your best friend Celia invited you to a local bar called Josies claiming to need a girls night out.

At first you almost faked being sick or having a late night appointment but you realized it wouldn't be possible to deny your friend.

She knew you were not a going out kind of person, so any excuses would not convince her.

“Come on Y/n, just one drink and I swear if you don't like it we're leaving” she tried reassuring you, and you made a face of disagreement but still followed her in anyways after the breeze made a shiver travel your entire body. That made you realize you should've brought a jacket.

When you entered you immediately noticed the strong smell of beer and whiskey. It was almost overwhelming but the scent kinda matched the looks of the bar which made it feel homey.

“What are you two girls taking?” A lady behind the bar, who was previously wiping a dirty glass asked us.

“I think we'll both take a beer” Celia turned to confirm with you and you nodded.

“Good cause beer and whiskey’s all we got” she grumbled and picked up two bottled beers from underneath the counter where you assumed a fridge was.

Soft jazz music was playing in the background and you could hear the people chit chatting and clinking their bottles. Celia took a sip of her drink and after analyzing around the place she gasped loudly.

“Oh my God y/n It's Matt and Foggy!” she clapped her hands happily.

“Who?” you asked and looked behind you trying to map where her friends were.

“You know,  the guys from the law firm! I worked with them on a case with Marci” Realization became clear on your face after she reminded you.

A couple months ago her colleague Marci had needed help finding information about Wilson Fisk to help her boyfriend’s firm, Nelson and Murdock, and Celia had volunteered. Obviously she had told you all about the sexy blind lawyer who would be “perfect” for you.

”Come on! i'll present them to you” she jumped down her stool and began dragging you to them.

“Celia please no, they are probably trying to enjoy a night together let's not bother them” you tried tugging yourself back but she wouldn't allow it.

“You're too nice, you know that?” Celia replied and before you could beg again one of the two guys, who you assumed was foggy, raised from his chair by the pool table and screamed her name, inviting you over.

“Foggy, Matt, heyy” she said happily, hugging them while you stood awkwardly behind her.

You were always the more introverted one in the duo, but she always tried to bring you out of your comfort zone.

“This is y/n, you know my best friend I told you about” you lifted your hand giving them a small wave and immediately regretted it when you remembered one of them could not see it.

”Hi” your voice was barely above a whisper but you were ignorant to the fact that Matt could hear you loud and clear.

“You guys want a round of shots? Matt and I were just about to get some” the long haired friend suggested and Celia immediately agreed. The two of them left to go back by the bar leaving you and the handsome lawyer alone.

“Y/n right?” his voice surprised you. It was deep but angelic.

“Y-yes” your words caught in your throat now feeling more shy than ever.

“It’s a beautiful name, im Matt but i'm pretty sure you already knew that” he laughed and it was like you had never heard a prettier sound. You nodded your head, unable to utter any words.

“You just nodded didn't you?” your cheeks flushed instantly embarrassed, your eyes grow triple their size.

“I did, I am so sorry, I dont know whats wrong with me” you shake your head and slapped your forehead with your palm the sound echoing loudly in your ears.

“It's okay, it happens all the time” his smile never left his lips.

“That doesn't help” your face was red like a tomato.

“Dont worry about it” his hand laid itself on top of your naked thigh only the tip of his fingers came in contact with your silk dress, his soft touch warmed your skin.

“Silk?” he asked curiously, still running his digits over the fabric.

“Yea when Celia said we were going to the bar i didn't really know what to wear” you snorted now realizing silk was definitely too formal for a bar.

“It's very soft, i like it” once again a charming smile came onto his lips.

“thank you” you smiled back unaware he could feel the heat coming off your body at this very moment.

“We're back! sorry it took so long josie wouldn't let us have our best customer discount again” Foggy pout but put the tray of 6 shots down on the sticky table.

“Drink up guys!” Celia clinked her glass with Foggy’s and then yours and then Matt’s (which cause a small splash of the whiskey to escape down to the floor)

the second the strong liquid came in contact with your tongue, your eyes clenched in pain because of the burn. 

“How can people drink that? it's disgusting” you said and everyone at the table laughed at your sudden outburst.

“It takes a lot of getting used to and a best friend who forces you to drink it” Matt’s hand squeezed your knee while the other two were already getting ready for the second one.

“I guess…” you hesitantly picked up your last shot and on the count of three you repeated the suffering progress.

After hours of chatting and laughing it was already 3 am which meant the bar was closing.

“I'm going to take a cab home, anyone wants to share one?” Celia said while gathering her belongings.

“I think I'm going to walk, my apartment is not too far,” you replied forgetting about the freezing wind outside.

“Are you sure? you know it's supposed to rain also there are some weird people in the street at this hour” she said almost in a motherly way.

“Yes I'm sure, anyway daredevil might save me if I get attacked” you joked and hugged her tightly while she rolled her eyes at you.

“I wouldn't mind taking a cab actually, I need to go back to Marci’s” a drunk Foggy wiggled his eyebrows.

“What about you Matt? need a ride?” he added to his previous statement.

“No, I think I'll walk y/n home. if that's alright?” he gently grabbed your elbow as he unfolded his white cane.

“Of course,” you smiled.

The two drunks said their goodbyes and walked out the door to the yellow cab waiting for them outside as you and Matt started walking back to your house in a comfortable silence.

A shiver traveled your body for the second time during the night and Matt felt your goosebumps raise on your arm as he held it.

He stopped abruptly making you look at him confused as he started removing his suit jacket.

“Here put this on” he draped it over your shoulder and you accepted it wordlessly admiring his beauty and generosity.

He grabbed your elbow again and you both continued the path to your apartment.

After about 10 minutes you spoke up, now seeing your apartment building

“This is me”

“Am i the only one who's disappointed the walk was so short?” he asked while rubbing his thumb on your arm.

You giggled before replying that you were also sad it was cut so shortly.

“You could come upstairs if you want?” Hopefully, you wished he accepted the offer.

“I think it's better if i don't” he sighed and your heart dropped slightly.

“I want to, but tomorrow I have this case I need to work on, and I think that if I came upstairs I wouldn't be able to leave in the morning” his hands were now holding your waist as if he was having his own inner battle whether he should come up or not.

“It's okay I understand” you whispered and he leaned his forehead against yours as if he was wishing you would have asked him to come up anyway.

thunder roared above you.

“You should go before it starts raining” you said and he shaked his head in disagreement.

“Can I kiss you before I go?” His tone was so low.

“please” you pleaded before his plumped lips connected with yours.

His head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss and his hand went up to the back of your head.

Your lips parted allowing his tongue to make its way inside your mouth. Your hands traveled to his hair as well, earning a small growl from him, while you started to feel the cold rain drip down your back and hair.

you broke apart and smiled seeing his red tinted glasses crooked. Slowly you lifted them off his face to see his beautiful amber eyes that had a twinkle in them.

“I should probably give you this, back” you started removing the now drenched jacket but he stopped you.

“Keep it, I'll come get it tomorrow” he smiled and eagerly pressed another kiss to your lips.

“That's a promise?” you whispered against his mouth.

“It's a promise”

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH4

Here is chapter four for Invisobang ! The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic! We get some more creepy Danny art this chapter! And I love the little details on the fridge!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Four

The lab was dim, an electric twilight. The lights blared overhead as they usually would but her eyes were too over compensated. Something bright, like looking at the sun burned in her vision. Her ears rang with screams. She couldn’t move. Shadowy, skeletal hands gripped her feet. Her face. His hand. Scraping her skin with rough burnt skin. Forcing her to watch. Unable to stop it. Those cold hands held her arms as she tried to fight free.

You don’t get to look away.

It’s your fault, you let him go in.

This is all because of you.

A sharp chill deeper than the cold hands drew a violent shiver. Like an ice bath. Colder.

Maddie jerked awake, that chilling feeling still in her spine despite being awake. She stared up at the ceiling trying not to think. The waking world wasn’t much better than that nightmare after all. She frowned, noticing that it was much lighter than she had thought. Later in the morning than she had thought. She sighed knowing that she wouldn’t get back to sleep now and started to push herself up.

There was a soft white glow at the foot of the bed. Its legs were gone, blended into a tail that twisted round itself to curl up. The tattered sleeve and skeletal arm exposed. The bony fingers stretched out towards her. She shifted just a bit too much of the blanket as she tried to escape the bed unnoticed. Danny’s ghost lifted a tilted head. She froze for a moment but it didn’t lunge.

It followed her throughout the house, keeping to shadows or perching on high locations. Like the top of the fridge where it had settled during breakfast. Jazz kept glancing in its direction and left quickly the moment she could. Her breakfast, only half finished.

It appeared to once again fall asleep there. She watched it. It didn’t make sense, ghosts didn’t need sleep. Or at least none of the research said they did. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe this was a feature of newer ghosts. Would it sleep less the longer it was… dead? Would anything else change over time? Was it only a matter of time before it became malevolent like the research said?

Research… research said that this shouldn’t have happened. The portal shouldn’t have turned on. They had worked hard to make sure there wouldn’t be another accident. Not after Vlad. She had to know why? Why did this happen? Why was Danny…? Was it their fault? Had they made this mistake?

She glanced to the lab door in the corner. She didn’t want to face it but she had to. Had to know why. Her hand hovered shakily over the handle. The ghost shuffled in its place on the fridge. A high pitched whine. A constant reminder of what happened. A reminder she couldn’t escape. A question that would quite literally haunt her forever if she didn’t find an answer. She took a deep breath and turned the handle.

The descent into the lab was a slow one. Each step felt massive and the bottom still shadowed in the darkness they had left it in on the day of the incident. The lights flickered on weakly, revealing the scattered chaos that had been them trying to save Danny.

She crossed to the console, that was where part of the problem was. The only part she could access. The only place she could get answers from. The portal frame itself was inaccessible behind the swirling green of their window into the ghost zone. The death trap that had killed Danny. The swirls played tricks on her tired mind, the silhouette of a mass of something beyond the portal. A shape close to the floor. Even if it was really there she didn’t want to see. The horror of a mangled, incinerated body that her mind supplied was bad enough. She couldn’t handle the real thing.

The console reported back that the portal was active. It understood that. It wasn’t a bool issue in the code. Something reporting false when it should have said true stopping her from turning off the machine it didn’t think was on. It knew it was on. That meant the emergency controls were the problem. She poured over the code trying to find the control error. A mistyped variable or something. Anything that would explain what happened.

What she found was worse. Or maybe better, if only because it meant it wasn’t them. They hadn’t caused this. There was an override coded into the emergency shutdown. An override that linked back to a start-up sequence they had never coded. It was set to initiate start-up while someone was inside. Specifically while the wiring was being worked on. Some of the wires had been bypassed to allow the machine to work even if they had been unplugged. Wires that had once been important to function were now just a trigger. Sabotage.

Jack was meant to be dealing with the wiring, it had only been passed to Danny since the paneling went on. Had someone been trying to kill Jack? No, that didn’t make sense. Why would… but then why would anyone target anyone else in the family. She couldn’t think of anyone who hated them like that. Even the Mansons didn’t disapprove of them that much. Even if she could think of someone this required a certain level of understanding of their work. Few had that privilege. Vlad from college but that would have been long outdated with how long it had been and their direct overseers from the GIW. Neither really had opportunity and reason. Had it not been about them at all? Was someone trying to halt their work and unintentionally caught Danny in the crossfire? Still she couldn’t think of who. The GIW were literally paying them, sabotage would just make it worthless. Vlad had nothing to gain, he wasn’t even in the field any more.

She frustratedly shook her head, there was no use speculating when she really had no clues. Maybe Jack would know something. If not at least he wouldn’t be blaming himself like she had been. She took a few moments to document the evidence and hide it away. Whoever it was had somehow gained access to their computers if not the lab itself, she couldn’t risk it being covered up. Maddie was not going to let this go unpunished. She was going to find who did this and she was going to make them pay.

Satisfied that the files were preserved she headed for the stairs. Jack was probably still sleeping. She’d wake him. He’d want to be told as soon as possible.

It was like a cold hand crawled up her spine. She froze, one foot on the next step, halfway up the stairs. Her heart beat faster and she couldn’t help but feel on edge. Each next step was tentative and cautious. Her eyes scanned the kitchen and fell on the sleeping ghost on the fridge top. She let out an uncomfortable awkward laugh. Of course it was the ghost. She should have realized that was what they were feeling. That natural human fear response to a ghost's aura. Of course they would be feeling that, made only worse by the very real grief.

She found Jack exactly where she expected him to be. He was sleeping but it hadn’t been peaceful. The covers around him were rumpled and his eyes bagged. He had probably been lying there awake for a good portion of the night. She knew she had been before the exhaustion took her into that nightmare.

“Jack?” she asked softly as she gently shook him. Thankfully he didn’t startle, his eyes opened awkwardly with a tired and confused groan.

“Mads? What is it?” he paused, wiping sleep out of his eyes, “did something happen?” concern drifted onto his face and was alleviated as she shook her head.

“I found something. The accident,” she stumbled over the memory of it, “it wasn’t. I was looking through the control panel files. They’d been changed.”

“Sabotage?”

She nodded, “someone bypassed the safety controls and the power. They rigged it to go off while you were working.”

“But I hadn’t… I passed it off to…” his face dropped, “if I hadn’t then… Mads this…”

“Jack, that doesn’t make it your fault. Danny wanted to help and we didn’t know. We couldn’t have,” if anyone was to know it would be her she’d noticed something had been changed, even if it wasn’t obviously malicious at the time.

“Who is then, who even had access?”

“I don’t know but now we know we can find out,” Maddie said firmly, a promise. Another promise unsaid but clear, that whoever was responsible was going to regret this.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

[demonic0angel]

Ok!! So imagine Dani, Danny, Dan or Jazz's partner distracting them and they know something is up and then BOOM they arrive at the manor and surprise party! The manor decorated in their favorite colors, friends are there and the whole shebang :D

(Alright :D Hope you enjoy! Happy birthday!)

Danny frowned. “I can’t even look?”

“No,” Cass said, holding him by the arm and guiding him to the Manor. “Surprise.”

Danny was absolutely confounded. He was scrambling to think of what important event was close, but all he could think of was Christmas. There was another event, very important, but it was starting to escape his memory as he strained to think.

A hand patted his face and he flinched from the suddenness of it, since he wouldn’t see through the blindfold.

“No thinking. It’s a surprise.”

Danny huffed but hid a smile. They walked carefully up the steps to the Wayne Manor and when they approached the door, she opened it without even knocking. They stepped through and Cass continued to guide him through the manor. Through the blindfold, Danny tilted his head as he sensed various souls around him, all singing with excitement and affection.

He could even sense his siblings, which made him frown slightly. He could feel Cass’ family and friends, his own friends, and there was even Valerie, which was strange since she never came here.

Wait a minute…

The blindfold was suddenly ripped off and then everyone screamed, with an explosion of confetti, “Happy Birthday!!”

Danny nearly jumped a foot in the air, but Cass held him down. A smile broke over his face as he laughed breathlessly. He turned to Cass, who was watching him with a smile. “Wha— This is my birthday party?!”

She nodded. Jazz approached and hugged him, with Dani not far behind. “Happy Birthday, little brother. Cass was the one who planned this thing.”

Danny beamed at his girlfriend within Jazz’s arms. Cass preened a little, still smiling before she pulled Danny’s arm when Jazz let him go. “Come. Cake. Then presents.”

Danny bounced on his feet, warmth filling him all over. He reached forward to hug Cass, burying his face in her hair as he murmured, “Thank you. I totally forgot about my birthday.”

“Mm.” She kissed Danny softly and pulled away with a smile. “Cake now.”

Danny was given several more congratulations and happy wishes and pats on the back, but everyone looked happy and were eagerly waiting for him. Even Wes had a civil expression on his face and Dan himself was smiling.

Everything was perfect. Danny’s face was a little pink when he sat down and an ice cream cake was put in front of him with candles already lit. Usually, he never really did get attention around his birthday, since it was always close to Christmas, but this was the first time he had ever gotten such a big celebration that hadn’t merged the two events together.

“Make a wish,” Jazz said gently. Danny looked around at all of the faces of his friends and family, who all looked so happy for him, and his flush deepened before he blew out the candles with everyone cheering again. Cass buried herself into his side as the cake was then put away for later and dinner was brought out.

“What’d you wish for?” Dani asked.

Danny shrugged. “Can’t tell you.”

After all, it wouldn’t come true if he said it aloud. And all he wanted was another perfect Birthday next year, just like this, surrounded by friends and family. Yes. Today was going to be a good day.

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 8: Pirate ship

Summary: 'Walk the plank, shark bait'. Sure the order gave him an excuse to transform unseen but something, or should he say 'someone', unintentionally prevented that. Well then, time to finish this as Fenton instead!

AO3 link

Stupid Youngblood! Stupid him for letting them steal the ghost shield generator! Why did it have to be some stupid song and stupid Ember and stupid adults and 'miss I'm so mature' Jazz being susceptible to that horrible and boring and dumb music! And!

AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa!

Fear and rage swirling inside him turned his inner screaming outward as he plummeted off the ghostly pirate ship. Away from the fight above and closer to the streets below.

...Wait, shit.

He has ghost powers!

HE CAN FLY!

Quick, the ground is getting closer you buffoon!

Right when that thought passed through his head and seconds before he actually could change, something hard and solid caught him.

Fuck! They almost killed him the rest of the way! He will make them regret this!

Winded but not a stain on the ground and deader than before, he looked past the tears in his eyes the high speed falling caused and gave shape to the red being quite literally standing before him.

Valerie?

"Hey, Fen- kid, are you alright? What is even happening here?"

"You mean, you don't know?"

Danny was baffled at how she somehow remained blind, or he guessed deaf, to the adult kidnappings going on lately and he showed it clearly on his face.

"Know what? And let me remind you my hoverboard follows my lead and I will drop you."

"Gee, thanks. My savior." Danny made sure his sarcasm was obvious, "That stupid music being blasted from every radio in town was actually mind control targeting adults and we are rescuing our parents since you asked oh, so nicely." He informed her in the most annoyed tone he could, recent events have made him a bit short tempered.

A delayed thought occurred to him, "Wait. And Jazz. That know it all believes she is an adult and that's enough for it to work."

He said that last sentence under his breath with a bit of a pout, thinking of his sister who shouldn't even be there.

"We?" Valerie asked in disbelief.

"Yes. We. As in 'my friends and a bunch of kids who decided to throw a party in my house I wasn't even invited to. Our parents were taken and we are fighting ghost pirates to get them back."

A muttered 'can't fucking believe this' and 'of course they didn't even invite me' as she moves to drop him off on some roof top before Danny stops her from leaving him.

"If you leave me here, I will find my way back up there. That is a promise and a threat." The words came out of his mouth before he fully processed it.

Dammit!

He needs to be Phantom but if Valerie is here, that might impede their goal. Oh well, guess he's sticking with it and fighting as Fenton. Oops.

She must have seen the fire in his eyes or something because she lifts him with one arm placing him feet first back on her board behind her.

"Fine. Get on. Don't make me regret this. Now hold on!"

And they were off, closer and closer to Youngblood's ship where their peers remained captive due to that ghostly shield-like force field.

Upon reaching the ship, Danny jumped off the hover board and raced towards the captured teens as Valerie blasted Ember point blank, knocking her straight across the ship. Instead of landing, she vanished in her blue flames and, absolutely done with this, cut her losses.

Taking out his parents' inventions that he brought with them as well as swiping one of the Valerie's, he cobbles together a device to free the others while Valerie holds off Youngblood's skeleton crew. Being more careful than usual with the knowledge of the parental captives on board.

"Fenton?! What are you doing?" Danny thinks it was Dash's voice but he wasn't sure as he doesn't use his actual name when they interact. Extenuating circumstances perhaps?

"Shut up and let me work or I will leave you there." Danny snaps as he works in full concentration.

Had he looked up, he'd have seen several, usually cruel, faces blushing at his directness and competency.

A delayed shut down set, he steps away and stalks towards Youngblood. Tucker's job was completed as he deactivated the ghost shield already and Ember is long gone, leaving one less ghost for him to deal with. His eyes glinted green, raising his own intimidation factor, as he stalked towards the ghost.

"Avast scallywag, what be you trying so hard for these landlubbers for? You're ruining all the fun! Let there be a bout for the fate of the booty, then!"

"Brat, it's past your bedtime." A smirk playing on his lips as he riled up the ghost playing pretend.

"Kid, what are you doing antagonizing a ghost like that?! Get your parents and get out of here!"

Aww, she cares.

But Danny has had a very long, very bad day and they need to take it out. And if he can't be Phantom to do it, then so be it. He can't bring himself to care right now.

"Nice to know you care, Red, but don't worry about me. Just get everyone else to the Ops-center blimp. Might get going before the adults come to. Or you can just stand back, you're in the splash zone."

"Splash zone? Wait, what did you call me?"

"Seriously, that's what catches you off guard? You wear all red, so 'Red'. Why? Do you want me to call you anything else instead?"

Danny pulls out a weapon akin to a lightsaber and says, "As for the first question," he pauses for dramatic effect, "these pirates no longer have to wonder where their god is. Because he's right here! and he's fresh out of mercy!", with the most feral grin any of his classmates have ever seen on him.

"Captain, I don't think he's messing around." Youngblood skeleton parrot informed him, looking a bit scared.

Danny let loose as the last of the captives and teens made it onto the blimp, only 'Red' beside him.

"Choke on my vengeance! Choke on it"

...Or more like, watched on in concern. Ready to grab him when the ship falls in earnest. At this point, she isn't even sure if he'd notice they were currently falling.

She almost feels sorry for the ghost. Almost. the ghost seems to be able to keep up with Fenton's increased movements and attacks. Perry and dodge and counter and strike. Blow for blow even among the mutual smack talk and banter. He even started to overpower the ghost at some point before it evened out again for a time.

Both are having fun it seems. Danny clearly doesn't have a healthy outlet for his aggression if he gets like this, but Valerie knows she is not one to talk.

Really feeling gravity take hold, Red steps in and grabs him like he's a misbehaving kitten.

"Ok, you've had your fun," Red finally says after a while, "I'm getting you out of here before we drown with the ship."

The second she pulled Danny back from his frenzy, the ghost pirate kid flew further into the ship. Oh well, making sure she and her classmate don't die will have to be her priority here.

They ride back to the group of dazed adults and geared up teens on her hoverboard.

"Did you get that all out of your system?"

"Yeah, that was fun!" Danny gleefully answered with a laugh.

Yeah, he really is a Fenton with that kind of weirdness. Oddly charming thought.

At her unimpressed silence, he added "You had fun back there, too. Don't lie. When's the next time you'll get to fight on a pirate ship?" A sly smirk playing on his lips.

"...Ok fine. It was a little fun. Happy?" She relented as they landed by the group. The laugh she got in response was answer enough.

As they meet back up with the other teens, they are either looking dumbstruck at him or staring at the ghost hunter behind him. Sam and Tucker were watching her more with suspicion, but he saw some humor in their eyes when they saw him.

All eyes on them, Danny asked the group if they could meet back at his place to not let the adults know what happened. If they hurry they can make it back and claim to be studying or something if caught and questioned.

When asked why, he just replied with, "They are going to see us and I'm the one who will be in trouble. Either grounded or they'll be excited and try to drag me full force into the family business," Another thought occurred to him that would really make them go for this idea, "If they know you helped, they'll be even happier for that path and try to encourage it."

After that last statement, even those who wouldn't have cared for either outcome he'd get practically shivered in dread. This was a one night only thing and just to save their parents, not an interest into a full time gig!

Huh. It really does take just the right words!

Everyone but the huntress left to cover their tracks before the adults realized where they were or what they did. Leaving her to handle the dazed and coming to adults. And Jazz.

Now that things were calming down, 'badass and confident' Danny was receding back to a more 'sheepish and charming' Danny, brushing off anything cool he just did as 'spur of the moment'. Instead he flitted around as everyone hit the evidence, making sure no one was hurt after all of that as he took back his family's gear to put it away.

The least some of them did was change back and rush home before they could get in trouble themselves.

Danny was bewildered when Paulina even kissed his cheek for earlier, even when she said shed never be into him right before the plan went into action, on her way out and Dash didn't even threaten him.

Strangely got a 'That was pretty cool of you' and Danny still isn't sure that he heard right.

His friends were celebrating 'how cool' that was that they did that on top of bringing quality music back into town as they helped him clean.

"Dude, you snapped back there."

"And it was awesome! If only I could do that too, then I might be able to make changes a bit easier."

"You having powers on top of already being able to commit violence already kind scares me and I'm the ghost who snapped."

The three share a contented smile and have a fun laugh about their crazy night before taking out their homework to act like they've been at it for hours right in time for his parents and Jazz to walk through the door, confused but unharmed.

[illubean]

can you please write headcanons or one-shot abt chrollo with a s/o who’s fav hobby is drifting and is OBSESSED with cars and motorcycles (your writings are the best btw<3)

Chrollo with a Drifter!S/o

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Headcanons, College!Au, Gn!reader

made this college au bc thats the direction my brain went i hope thats ok >.<

Warnings: none

Chrollo had always been intrigued by you

before you even started dating he's seen you around campus, often times arriving to school on your motorcycle

he thought you were seriously badass

but to him you were out of his league

why would someone as cool as you be even remotely interested in some bookworm philosophy major?

but lucky for him, you ended up formally meeting through a mutual friend

you both really hit it off at some house party Uvogin was throwing and that's how you guys ended up going on your first date

it was relatively normal, the both of you had met at a local cafe and talked about your interests and all that jazz but one detail you left out was your affinity for drifting, racing and cars

by the time the third date rolls around you insist on picking Chrollo up

he was unsure as of why but he just let it happen

another thing he was unsure of is why you scheduled this date really late at night

but when you pulled up to his apartment in this souped up sports car he was more confused about how you were even to afford all of that while being a college student

when you pulled off of the main road and into a clearing not too far out from the city he just got even more confused

"uh, were exactly are we going?" "You'll see"

after a little longer you guys saw a group of other parked sports cars and two large crowds on either side of a makeshift racetrack

before Chrollo could even fully process what was going on, you already pulled up next to this other car and there was some lady with a flag standing in front of you guys

and 3...2...1...GO! ZOOM YOU TAKE OFF AND CHROLLO IS LOSING HIS SHIT HE DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS SHIT!

you are speeding and drifting and racing this random guy, just doing your thing meanwhile Chrollo is screaming the entire time and gripping on his seat for dear life

after like an hour and a half of this madness it finally ends and you won the race yayyy

Chrollo was out of breath and could barely keep up with his own thoughts while you were already getting out of the car and claiming some sort of prize

when you get back in the car and start it back up is when he finally snaps his head towards you

"You're crazy!!...I kinda like that."

anyways you begin dating yayyy

and you always insist on doing all the driving just because you like cars so much

and Chrollo lets you because it saves him gas money but like...never race with him in the car again

he will go with you to whatever meets you want just let him out the car where he can watch semi safely from the sidelines

one day when he got into your car he noticed a sticker on the front of the dash that read "passenger princess" in pink fancy lettering

he bursts out laughing at this and its not like he can even deny it

you also bought Chrollo his own helmet for days you decide you want to ride your motorcycle

he is much more afraid of the motorcycle than your car and he refuses to ride it unless he knows for sure that what you're planning is something tame

but even if you do lie to him and take him somewhere to speed and race and drift and all of that the adrenaline makes you more attractive to him so he'll forgive you every time anyways

[overwatch-and-others-imagines]

If I die. . .(Reaper One-shot)

Extracurricular Prompt:

“If I die, I’m going to haunt you”

(We did one of these for Cassidy pre-name change. We’re doing one of these for Reaper now. My deepest appreciation for my lovely friend who got to listen to me grumble and see me fail at spelling a couple of times.

Enjoy!

Side note: How are we feeling about the full thing being under a read more? Is it helpful? is it annoying? Lemme know!)

You heard a deep low chuckle from behind you and turned to glare over your shoulder

Reaper or Gabriel as he was more commonly known to you, mostly stood -he was leaning- in the doorway to your shared bedroom, usual mask in place but his usual coat had been substituted for a dark green one.

"You will be fine mi vida" he said, coming over to wrap his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder "I will be your shadow"

"And won't let me out of your sight, I know, I know" you grumbled, letting out a soft sigh as you leaned into him "I'm just. . .not sure about this"

"I am unsure why, getting information from someone we do not know or trust from a haunted maze seems like a perfectly trustworthy idea" he said, sarcasm practically dripping from his words and you snickered

"So you agree this is going to go wrong" you said and you felt and heard him chuckle quietly

"That’s my secret mi amor, I never trust things will go right" 

You made a small noise at that, turning to face yourself in the mirror to double check, for the third time, that the skeleton-themed face paint you'd applied hadn't cracked anywhere. 

"You look fine" came the expected comment and you gently swatted him on the arm, you knew that but your nerves weren't helping at all.

You were always a little nervous before a mission but ones like this where you had barely any intel? you hated them the most.

"Has Sombra said anything else since briefing?" you asked

"No, That girl is never helpful" Reaper said with an annoyed growl "But she's being more illusive than usual"

"Confidence" You said, giving small jazz hands, smiling softly as you felt him silently chuckle against your back "You promise you'll stay where you can see me?"

"I swear on my cold dead heart" He said, lifting his mask slightly to press a kiss to your clothed shoulder. A comment like that would normally make you laugh but you couldn’t muster it today.

Taking what strength you could from that, you took a deep slow breath and nodded. Connecting eyes with him using the mirror

"I'm ready"

Many hours and a plane ride later, you stood staring up at a large decorated farmhouse. Fake cobwebs hung from the railing around the porch, carved pumpkins lined the stairs, and flashing lights of gruesome ghoul and zombie faces stared out from the windows on every floor. Looking foreboding in a cartoon horror sort of way at such a late hour.

The red bat lights hanging from the fence that circled the property, the house and the large corn maze where the haunted experience was taking place, would have normally been the only source of light but the path leading up to the front door had flickering candles on either side. Setting this all up must have cost a fortune.

You could imagine how this operated during normal hours, someone waiting dressed up and blooded at the door, a line of people waiting that stretched all the way back to the property line and beyond, the sounds of delighted and terrified screaming, the faint revving of chainsaws and the smell of decaying leaves, pumpkin and corn.

It seemed a little lifeless with the only sounds being the wind and sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Reaching up, you pressed on the bud in your ear, waiting for it to crackle to life

"Reaper can you read me?" you whispered, your voice seemingly too loud in the quiet of night

"Loud and clear, are you in position?" came the crackle of a voice in your ear and you relaxed, even with the slight distance, they worked. Sombra had assured you of such but given the state of them, you hadn't been sure. You'd protested at first at using such old tech, arguing just to use the usual earpiece you were used to before it had been explained to both you and Reaper that the person you were meeting up with had stressed no high tech.

"He's worried that his, shall we say, extracurricular activities giving secrets to the enemy will get back to his boss should they pick up on any monitored signals" Sombra had explained with a handwave. You hadn't voiced any protests after that, not wanting to risk a gang fight with just you and Reaper on deck.

"About to walk in" you confirmed

"You are clear for entry. Moving forward now. Keep me posted" He said before the line went silent again and you let your hand drop. Knowing he was around, ready to drop in if things went pear-shaped was a comfort but not enough to keep all your nerves at bay.

Taking another slow deep breath, you walked up the steps and had a small look around, the instructions Sombra had passed along said something about a key being left on the porch. . .Aha!

Spotting a small white tag poking out from an orange pumpkin, you half-lifted the pumpkin up and grabbed the key waiting underneath it.

Perfect, so far so good.

Walking back down the stairs, you took a left and wandered until you came to a locked gate, more red spider lights hanging from across its arch.

Finding no traps, you brushed some of the lights up and held them out of your way before unlocking the gate and pushing it open, cringing slightly as it gave a loud dramatic creak. The owners clearly hadn't kept up with oiling the hinges, it certainly added to the aesthetics of the place but with the stillness of the night, it may as well have been a gunshot with how it announced your presence. 

Walking through, you saw the starting path stretched out in only one way for a few meters before opening up and splitting off. With no directions on where to go you, quickly,  got your phone out of your pocket. Hitting the flash, you aimed the light and looked down directly at the ground, your eyes searching for a singular pattern in the dirt. A pair of footprints that would have been new. Shining your light around.

It took you but a moment to find them, a set of size 8 boot prints. Feeling emboldened with the knowledge you at least could follow your contact's footsteps until you met up with the man yourself.

Walking forward and to the left, you followed the tracks, right, forward, left, right, forward, forward, right, left, right, right, right and finally another left and you found the maze open up on either side of you revealing a large carnival sort of set up. Light poles had been installed with lights that faced directly downwards, giving spots of light with limited ambient light. The dark spots around seeming all the darker for it. Haybales and wooden seats, knocked-over tables, pumpkins, carts and a few dilapidated food stands, it certainly gave off the right sort of vibe. 

You held up your light and gave a few steps forward before movement to your right caught your eye, turning your head, you saw the distinct silhouette of someone, the man you were here to see possibly?

They were pacing nervously in front of what looked like the door to the next maze area.

You assumed that this area within normal business hours would be where someone with a chainsaw would be waiting to chase guests through to the other side and back into the maze. It was a decent set-up.

You made a low whistling noise, watching as the person paused and turned towards you, echo'ing the noise back.

You gave a nod and gestured at the space between you, aiming your torch light at yourself temporarily to aid in them seeing what you were doing, tilting your head in an exaggerated motion, silently asking if you could move closer

They simply nodded and anxiously gestured you forward, their head moving on a swivel.

Moving closer you attempted to make out any details you could, short cut dark hair, medium build, a few inches on you, possible shadow of a sidearm left-hand side. It was too dark to properly make out any other details. What you did know from the whistle was this was your man.

"Were you followed?" He asked frantic and you quickly shook your head "Good good good. Have to make this quick."

"Is everything okay?" you asked, starting to feel jumpy just watching him and he simply stared at you

"The Sven-Ingvars are not one to mess around" He insisted while you filled that name away for later "If they so much as think that I have been giving away my lunch order to people they deem enemies, it will be a closed casket"

"I get it, we'll make it quick then" You said, watching as some of the tension faded from his body language. You turned the torch off on your phone before holding down the power button, waiting until the screen went black before turning your attention back to the man in front of you. Your eyes beginning to adjust to the low light of the area "What have you got for me?"

"Here" He said, reaching behind him and you tensed before his hand came back into view, simply holding a small glowing info stick "All of their scheduled meetings for the next 12 months. Who and where and when and backup plans and spots if the first is compromised" 

You reached out to take it, only to shoot him an annoyed look as he pulled it back at the last second.

"How do I know you aren't here to trick me?" He asked and you sighed softly, irritation beginning to build. An easy thing as you were already on edge.

"I would have just shot you and taken the information for myself if I wanted to do anything by now" You said holding your hand out 

He seemed to pause at that, his foot beginning to tap quickly before he dropped the stick into your hand

"I was never here" He said, pointing a finger at you and you simply nodded. Pocketing the stick, you half turned away from him

"You were never here" You confirmed and he seemed to finally relax. The two of you shared a nod and you had been about to turn away completely when you felt something go flying past you. 

The man made a grunt of startled pain and stumbled backwards, staring at you wide-eyed before he went down. Hitting the ground hard. You didn't give yourself a moment to look before you were bolting past him and into the maze, hearing loud footsteps coming up from behind you.

You took the first left you could and kept on running, reaching a hand up to press against the earbud

"They're here. They know" You said before cutting the connection, ripping the thing out of your ear and throwing it into the ground, making sure to step on it as you ran for good measure.

You took a right, ducking as you heard a bullet go whizzing by you. You threw yourself around the next left corner and shoved off the sign there for some extra momentum. 

You continued to run, making random choices and dodging bullets, too nervous about your pursuer gaining ground to draw the pistol at your hip. Occasionally hearing faint yells from other parts of the area.

Taking another right, you continued to run up until you saw the wall of bush in front of you and you skidded to a halt. 

Dead end.

You swore and quickly drew your gun, spinning back around and aiming the way you'd come, waiting, listening.

Footsteps got louder as they got closer and closer until a loud shotgun blast rang out followed by a choking noise and a thud then silence.

"Reaper?" You whispered, breaking the silence as you frantically glanced around.

Catching a glimpse of his white mask, you let out a soft noise of relief, lowering your gun. He stalked over, visibly looking you up and down and once he got close enough, he caught your chin in a clawed gloved hand. At this distance you could see faint smoke coming out from around the mask and the eye holes and you covered his hand with one of your own, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring smile

"I'm okay, they didn't hit me. I'm uninjured" You assured him, not mentioning that a couple of bullets cut a little close for comfort.

"Good" He growled before turning back around and putting another shot in the body on the ground "Get back to the front"

"Okay" You said, giving a small nod, expecting him to let your face go and when he didn't, you gently squeezed his hand "I'm okay Gabe. Go"

With an annoyed noise, your chin was released and he stalked off, fading into the darkness like a well-trained predator.

You gave it a few moments before you started walking, taking care to be as quiet as you could while maintaining a quick pace. Pausing every so often when the sound of bullets reached your ears, you waited until everything went quiet before starting to move again.

As such, it took you a good few minutes to reach the carnival set up again and you pressed your lips together in a thin line at the sight.

There were a couple of bodies piled together under one of the lights and you did your best to avoid looking at them as you crossed the space, making your way back to the front of the farmhouse. 

You slipped through the gate entrance and went and perched on the stairs, gun resting on your lap with one hand covering it, ready to bring it up at a moment's notice.

Black smoke drifted towards you and Reaper materialized before long, blood splatter covering part of his mask. 

"Let's go" He said, his voice low and you gave a simple nod. Standing up, the two of you silently made your way back down the path. 

You only felt save enough to talk again when you reached the edge of the property and spotted your car, bulletproof and quick, still where you'd left it.

"Are they all taken care of?" the question hurt to ask, their bodies would likely be found by the experience workers if Akande couldn't be bothered to send in a clean up crew and you pitied them for that

"Yes" Reaper answered, tucking his shotguns back into their holsters "Did you get the information?"

"I did yeah. It's safe" You said, tapping the pocket where you'd stored it before tucking your own gun away. Reaper let out a grunt in response and you simply fell silent.

As you approached, the car beeped before the doors opened and you quickly got into the passenger seat as Reaper took the driver's side. He didn't wait until both doors closed to turn the car on and start driving, the doors closing with a soft click. 

You'd worked with your partner enough times to know he would want silence. Using his wraith form always cost him and caused him pain and he had the tendency to snap at people, you included. Which you understood.

You were content to stare out the windows at the passing scenery and just take solace in his presence and the fact you'd survived getting shot at. Again.

Surprising you, you felt a hand on your thigh and you glanced over at Reaper and placed your hand over his. Intertwining your fingers, you felt him give your hand a gentle squeeze and smiled.

At least you didn't need to haunt him. Not like he haunted you. Your very own spiteful protective if not a little dramatic spirit of death. There to keep you safe.

Always.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Writing in tags got a ball rolling and I'm thinking more and more about full ghost/bitter babysitter Vlad

Thinking about how Jazz and Danny grew up with ghost hunters as parents and a ghost as an uncle, the types of wrenches it throws into the family's relationships with each other...

Starting with the parents' perspective,

It's easy in the beginning to dismiss the paradoxical nature of ghost hunters having a ghost live with them, The Ghostbusters had Slimer, Fentonworks has V-Man. At the start, their tiny children can see and understand the difference between their friendly uncle Vlad (who at the start, looked like a pathetic wet kitten) and a 'real' dangerous ghost.

It's less easy when you and your old friend wind up in an arms race driven and perpetuated by both rational and irrational fear.

At the start when he looked human and his grudge was apparent but it was shown when he was passive-aggressively doing chores around the house and getting the kids ready for school, it was funny, guilt-trippy, sure, but also helpful. Now that the kids are teenagers and can do their own share of the chores and get themselves ready for school that grudge needs other ways to manifest and he can't break inventions and loom ominously on their bedroom ceiling forever.

"We're not *just* ghost hunters, there's more to our studies than dissection and having Vladdie around makes those other studies easier."

With time, turns into...

"Well, how would we know if our anti ghost forcefields and other ghost proofing gadgets work or not if we didn't have a ghost to test them on?"

With more time, turns into...

"This is the Fenton Ecto-Vaporizer, it turns every ghost caught in its rays into nothing but steam! Well, every ghost except the pesky patient because it grew immune to Blood Blossoms and effect amplifying serums 🙄"

And for the most part 'the ghost haunting our home for decades is immune to our shock collar and we need to make something stronger or he'll rip our spines out of our bodies and wear our skins like coats' is said in jest,

at the end of the day,

during those nights that SHOULD be silent but their guilty consciences make the whispers at the end of the bed recounting the day they not only killed, but dumped their best friend like garbage and fled the state that much louder as the bright red eyes of the vengeful spirit become their unwelcome night light...

They have to ask themselves will he kill them before or after the kids go to college?

From the kids' perspective... where do I even start?

Okay, good news is that they had a good tradeoff with a better childhood, I mean for starters their Christmases were a lot less nasty with Uncle Vlad and I strongly suspect that Little Danny's favorite Christmas story of all time was 'A Christmas Carol' as he'd love the christmas ghosts thanks to knowing his own 'christmas ghosts'.

And both kids grow up knowing that ghosts CAN be good people, they see their uncle lose his outer humanity over the years while they grow up and come to understand that just because a ghost can *look* mean and scary doesn't mean that they *are* mean.

Danny would likely have more 'tools' in his belt other than fighting. Sure, fighting's on the table if need be, but when it comes to different ghosts and their different issues, he'd likely stop and ask himself "Is this ghost who's screaming about a dance in need of a butt-kicking, or is she in need of some help?"

but as teenagers who can see that their family situation is NOT normal...

Jazz knows that there's more to Vlad's tragic story than 'I was really sick and your parents didn't visit me in the hospital :C'. She also knows he's not telling her.

Granted, nobody's really comfortable telling the girl one raised to adulthood that their parents murdered and abandoned them without a second thought,

But the whimsy and charm of 'oh look my uncle's a ghost' is lost when 1. you're not a kid anymore. and 2. getting him to be emotionally honest and upfront with you about his past is like pulling teeth.

Does Danny go to any of the adults when the accident happens? CAN he go to any of the adults when the accident happens?

It's established how he hates the idea of his parents getting a divorce, of losing his family, and at this point in time despite their attempts to hide it in front of him and Jazz, he can pick up that Vlad is not happy with or around his parents who in turn appear more and more uncomfortable with their old friend.

He knows that his mom and dad can put up with ghosts if they absolutely need to, but how will they take knowing that HE'S a ghost?

And how will Uncle Vlad himself take it?

He can trust him to teach him everything he knows about being a ghost, but at the same time, he's grown up watching Vlad destroy any and all inventions his parents make that seem too dangerous to them, so what would he do to his parents if he knew that 'their negligence killed him'?