#it will literally be fine i know him but just only in my head

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?

Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?

Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.

Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.

Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?

Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????

Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.

I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.

Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.

Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.

My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.

That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.

Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.

And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.

The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.

And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.

I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.

What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.

Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.

None of that gets any meaningful resolution.

I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.

I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.

That's all I have to say about that.

[ellecdc]

If you have the time, do you think you can do a sharing a bed prompt “warming their hands by slipping them up the other’s shirt and onto their back/stomach” or “lovingly tracing the other’s scars”? With f!reader and Im fine with any ship since I like all of them. Have a great day 😊.

thanks for the prompt, doll <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader who takes Sirius to a winter cabin [732 words]

CW: celebrating Christmas, Sirius pretending to be disgruntled even though there's literally no place he'd rather be (other than the Maldives, perhaps)

“You know we could be in the Maldives right now, right?” Sirius drawls from his place stretched out on the luxurious queen sized bed adorned with a copious amount of bedding and faux fur throw blankets. “Wearing far less clothes and not needing to risk splinters every hour just to stay warm.” 

You smirk as you watch the log you just added to the fire catch; sparkles crackling and shooting from the bark as you close the windowed door to the woodstove. 

“This is romantic, though.” You argue, hanging the fire poker back up and turning to face Sirius. His long sleeved sleep shirt was so thin and tight that you could make out every curve of his upper body; pyjama pants hanging sinfully low on his waist as he laid watching you, head propped up by his fist and his legs crossed casually at the ankle. 

You thought, then, that Sirius Black - with his inky black curls falling nearly to his shoulders, his fair skin decorated by high contrasting black ink, clad in his comfies and surrounded by fur blankets, the numerous windows of the tiny cabin giving you a perfect view of the snow covered mountains surrounding you - had never looked more beautiful. 

“You know what else is romantic?” He asks with an arched brow, feigning insolence even as his eyes track the way that the hem of his thick jumper you were wearing rose slightly higher along your bare thighs as you made to crawl back into the bed. “Being served drinks that are equal parts sugar and rum whilst laying under a cabana and insisting that my sunburn is going to fade into a tan even though both of us know it isn’t true.” 

“You know what’s not romantic?” You murmur as you settle into the bed, slotting your bodies together as Sirius pulls one of the thick furry throws over the two of you. “Listening to you yelp when you feel a little bottom feeder fish nudging your toes and claiming that the barracudas are after you again.”

“I thought you said you loved the sound of my voice?” He asks accusatively. 

“Nor is peeling said burn off your back like layers of a very pink onion.” You continue, pressing a kiss to his down turn lips as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“You’re very mean to me.” He pouts, though he readily accepts your kisses. 

“Am I?” You murmur into his cheek as you move to trail kisses along his jaw; a content sigh escaping your boyfriend as he closes his eyes and melts into the bed. “I only wanted a white Christmas.” You pout as you pull away, batting your eyelashes at Sirius as he cracks one eye open to cut you a look.

“And a white Christmas my girl got, hm?” He responds before wrapping his arms around your middle and rolling over, eliciting a squeal from you as he settles you atop of him chest to chest. “What does that make me?”

“The best.” You agree readily, pressing another kiss to his lips, smiling at the appreciative hum that earned you. The moment was ruined, however, when his icy cold hands wormed their way under the hem of your stolen jumper to settle on your lower back. “I take it back; I take it back, you’re the worst!”

“The worst?” Sirius hums casually, strengthening his hold on you ever so slightly as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “But I sacrificed sandy beaches and tropical drinks and swimming with dolphins for you. Seems only fair you warm up my hands.”

“You need to see a doctor.” You grumble as you relent to being used as his personal furnace. “You must have circulatory issues.” 

“Or my beautiful darling girl has sequestered me in a tiny wood-heated cabin in the height of winter.”

You lift your head to rest your chin on Sirius’ chest; cataloguing all the ways in which his face was at complete odds with his voice. The soft upturn of his lips, the slow, relaxed blinks as his eyes flickered across your features in much the same way yours were flickering across his. 

“I’m beautiful and darling, hm?” 

“The beautifullest and darlingest.” He confirms readily, and you can't help but smile at him; he can’t help but smile right back. 

“Happy Christmas, Siri.” 

“It really, really is.” He agrees.

[fancyfeathers]

I love the batfamily and daughter series!!! Now, I know this would be incredibly difficult for daughter reader to achieve but what if she kissed someone at school? When they do ask she doesn't deny it she just says, "Yeah. I kissed that person. I like them and they're smart, talented, and respectful. Shouldn't you be proud I picked someone like that?" or something along the lines of it. Thank you for reading!!!!

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

She is absolutely in trouble, so much trouble.

Damian is the first person to find out because he sees it happen, it is after school and they are supposed to be heading home because Dick is picking them up and waiting for them. Damian goes out to look for her only to find her kissing a boy from her class in the staircase and oh my god he is pissed. If he had not been restraining himself for the sake of their civilian identities he would have probably beaten the boy to death or damn near it, but instead he shoves him against the wall, holding his collar.

“If you dare even talk to my sister again I will end you, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes”

He then proceeds to drop the boy to the ground and drag his sister along to the car where Dick is waiting and he immediately tries to defuse the situation when Damian quite violently shoves her in the backseat of the car.

“Hey, hey, Damian you know we don’t ever get violent with her-��

“She was engaging in inappropriate behavior with a boy in the stairwell, Richard. Which is also not allowed, father has made that very clear.”

“Let… let me talk to him about this, you two need to behave.”

He drives them both back to the manor and while no words are said the disappointment is incredibly heavy, she can see Dick looking back at her in the rear view mirror with glances that make her heart sink to her gut.

The thing is when they get home Bruce already knows what happened, the boy’s parents called the principal’s office and now there was a whole lot of trouble brewing because of their actions. Bruce scolds Damian first, because of his threat and violent action he may have and up getting expelled and so now they’ll be having the family over to make amends and clear up this whole mess. Then after that his daughter gets chewed out for breaking one of the rules, she’s far too young (even if she is a teenager by this point ), what if he finds out about their secret identities, what if she and her mother get put in danger because that information gets leaked? It is one of those situations where he speaks without letting her speak, letting go her guilt build up to get his point across.

“Father, he is the top of my class, he is part of the service outreach program, he is-“

“That is not the point, it is to keep you safe, to keep your mother safe. There are people out there who would hurt you and your mother if they found out. I am not letting anyone die again.”

“Father-“

“I will pull you out of school if you keep fighting me on this, young lady.”

“Fine…”

She just agreed to not fight him on this, not to not kiss or date the boy.

Tim found out by listening to Damian talking to a very stressed out Dick about it and well curiosity and caution get the better of him and he does a whole background check on the boy and his family to find something to show to his little sister that this is not the type of person she want to be around or dating-

Perfect, he is literally spotless, so is his family, quite literally model citizens.

He is very bitter about this fact and it only infuriates him more because he does not want his little sister with him but there is not solid reason to give. So when the boy and his parents come by to sort out this incident, Tim hates him already, he is just so insanely perfect.

Then there is Jason who looks like he is about ready to strangle the kid when he sees him walk through the door of the manor with his parents. Tim may or may not have found the footage of what happened in the school’s security cameras and shown them to Bruce and the others, and at first Jason did not really care, she broke the rules so she will deal with the consequences, but then he sees the video and he is pissed. That boy was practically feeling up his little sister and she was to him, but that doesn’t matter. Then also like Tim, he hates how perfect he is, literally nothing to really hate, he is respectful to his sister, talented, romantic, a goody two shoes.

The other family is very civil, even after the fact that Damian threatened their son. All of them have to keep calm when they see their little sister and this boy laughing and talking all during dinner. Bruce even had to grab Jason to hold him back when the boy kisses her cheek when saying goodbye after the incident has been resolved.

“What? Shouldn’t you be happy I picked someone who is nothing like you?”

She is grounded for half a year.

Aldo a little extra bit to think about, her boyfriend and his family being a part of the Court of Owls and he is a potential yandere for her, just a thought.

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

I've been thinking a lot today about how easily people condemn Solas for making the choices he did or for so regularly refusing the help and love his friends or a romanced Lavellan extended to him and how that's a very easy thing to do from behind a screen in a fictional game where you are able to (with very few exceptions) curate a world in which your allies are loyal and your decisions will go the way you'd like them to.

And yeah, it's a game and that's kind of the point, but if I were to look at it a little more deeply (and who am I kidding, I got back on this website exclusively to process the aftermath of Veilguard) I'd say that there's so much to be found in wondering if the protagonists in any of the other games would have fared better in similar conditions.

Apparently I can't stop making long posts, so buckle in.

What would Morrigan have become in a world where the Warden never stumbled upon her cottage with Flemeth, if she never got the chance to see more of the world and decide what she wanted out of it? With just her mother (who, coincidentally in this Solas-y discussion is also kind of Mythal) and no support, who is to say what she would have unleashed upon the Korcari Wilds one day when the confines of her cage became too much?

What about Leliana? She, too, suffered at the hands of a very controlling abuser who tried to convince her that one lifestyle was all that her future held. What do we think she would have become if not for a chance meeting in Lothering with someone who could help her face down the woman that molded her?

Fenris, a character MANY people are just fine with was incredibly ready to kill a mage on sight if need be, no questions asked. Where do we think his story goes if he doesn't have someone in his corner early on enough in the game? If he doesn't get caught by Danarius, he's almost certainly going to end up on a murder spree, and he doesn't even have Justice whispering in his head to do it.

Cullen. Just all of him. It's an absolute miracle he hasn't snapped by the time you encounter him in Inquistion, and even then you get the benefit of intervening at a critical point in his story several times over.

Almost every other character could face this analysis and I think we'd reach a result that suggests perhaps the only thing keeping them lovable is your playable character's investment in their well-being.

Enter Solas. We don't meet him when he's twenty to thirty something and on the precipice of falling down a dark path. He's been there for literal millennia already, and with the exception of one close friend he's been alone. And not even Felassan is enough because of the years Mythal had prior to that friendship to make Solas exactly who she needed him to be.

I've had shit friends before that aren't just good at isolating people, they're naturals. I barely made it through high school with my mental health in place (in fact, looking back, it almost certainly wasn't). When you think you've got a true friend and they need something of you, it's so easy to blindly follow them because you think your love is enough to mark someone's soul as trustworthy. Solas doesn't learn that lesson until it's too late, and even when he does he can't turn back: the spirit that was once Wisdom has been exposed to several of the worst ancient elves to ever exist and now he has to stand his ground rather than let it all fall, because that is what Pride would dictate. Admitting that the person you gave your love and labor and time to is a monster is hard. And he was alone.

Give me Morrigan after centuries with her mother. Show me Leliana after the years have become a blur and the only voice whispering in her ear is Marjolaine's. Show me the innocent mages that don't make it through if all Fenris has for years and years and years are the scars Danaris left him and the means to make more. Show me Cullen if he stays in a chain of command under a Knight Commander who knows exactly what he fears and holds it over his head for so long he forgets what it was like to be an excited kid begging the templars for training because he just wants to keep people safe.

We get companions in these games who are broken by the time they're twenty. Solas has spent thousands of years in servitude to a cause of a woman he believed to be his only friend. He doesn't know who he is without her influence, anymore, only exists physically in the first place because she asked it of him and then asked again and again and again. He doesn't have a witty band of merry fools to pull him out of that cycle. He has Felassan, but he has him during war after war after war in the hopes of freeing others from the very situation that torments him.

Trauma from war affects everyone touched by it, nevermind the fact that Solas is actively responsible for saving the lives of thousands and feels each life like a weight around his neck because maybe he can save them like he cannot save himself. We should always be worried about the people trying to do the most good. Who is looking out for them? Why are they so determined to help others? Could it be that it's something they wish others had done for them?

Solas certainly feels comradery with Felassan from working together to free slaves from the very people he helped put in power because Mythal told him it would be okay only to leave him with the pieces, but even the Solas that Felassan knows has been turned into an attack dog shying away from the touch of the very person it desires to be near above all others by the time their relationship forms.

The fact that Solas is able to try and show the Inquisitor who he is at all is a miracle as far as I'm concerned, a sign of a peaceful spirit of Wisdom who loves knowledge for the sake of it finally sensing that there might be a chance to embrace its nature again.

Yeah, if you give him what he has come to expect from people with power, if you let near-absolute power over the masses corrupt you, he's going to bristle and try to shut your inquisitor down.

But if you show him even the smallest bit of kindness? If you treat him like the starving wolf he talks about and feed him instead of fighting him? God, it shatters his entire existence.

It's called a cycle of abuse for a reason. Finding friendship, finding the love of your long-ass life can be the first step in realizing there's better out there. But the time it takes to learn that? When you're too weary to even reach out for help in the first place and afraid of every kind word or gesture because you've never known such tenderness (on a platonic OR romantic level, both matter so so much) before?

Part of the compelling tragedy of Solas is that it's almost Orpheus-like how he knows what he has been made into and still cannot stop himself from yearning for more, from turning around to see if just this once something has changed. You can't convince me that he hasn't spent years hoping that someone will hear the legend of the Dread Wolf and see it for what it is, a leash the Evanuris created for Mythal's whipping boy to ensure that even if he ever escapes them, the people he fought to save will hate him. And I cannot blame him for the shock and terror that consumes him when he realizes someone finally has.

You give me any of dragon age companions after the amount of time Solas spent under Mythal's thumb without your character's intervention and you tell me how that looks.

You tell me if they're able to change at the first sign of something that feels too good to be true.

And then, I want you to tell me they're any less worthy of trying to save, especially when you know how good their best can be.

Solas might be hard for some fans to love, but it's only because he serves as the perfect representation of the beast we are all capable of becoming when the love that sustains us, assuming we receive any at all, is laced with poison.

The journey out of that place, out of a literal prison of regret, is brutal, and I'm thrilled that even with the many things about Veilguard I'm still struggling with, we have the chance to let Solas try again with the help of those who love him not because he never fell down, but because they believe in the beauty of a future where he gets back up again.

[theswandrowned]

Lucanis x Davrin kissing under the cut that’s all hehe

That night in Arlathan forest was a peaceful one. A gentle breeze weaved its way through the leaves while the inhabitants of the forest settled down for the night. In the distance the sound of the river could be heard and the gentle churning of the artefacts, but other than that there was not another sound to be heard.

Until…

“Are you quite serious?!”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

The sound of an axe hitting wood crackled through the serenity of the night, the anger of its wielder very evident even from a distance.

Davrin and Lucanis had never been the best of friends since they had joined the veilguard, but they tolerated each other for their friend’s sakes. They had gods to kill, they couldn’t afford to be at each others throats.

However in the solace of Arlathan Forest, anything goes.

Bellara and Rook had asked the pair to go into the forest to look for some missing veil jumpers while they helped at the veil jumper camp. Both men protested, but in the end they caved to the bosses orders.

Since they had left that morning it had been verbal jabs and snarky remarks and as the sun set on the horizon the argument finally reached its boiling point.

“Do not lecture me about the nature of my job.” Lucanis scoffed with an unimpressed shake of his head. The crow was perched on a nearby fallen log, watching as Davrin hacked away at some wood for the fire they were currently attempting to build.

Or… that Davrin was currently attempting to build.

Lucanis was offering moral support. Or immoral support. Whatever one 

worked best.

“You,” Davrin said through gritted teeth as he slammed the axe down once more. “Are a murderer.” He heaved a sigh, straightening his back to look at the other man. “That is literally all there is to ‘the nature of your job’.” He mocked, throwing the piece of wood he had just chopped at the hungry flames.

Lucanis rolled his eyes at that statement.

“You are a murderer as well, warden.” He mused, shrugging his shoulders. “Not my fault you don’t monetise it.”

“That’s exactly my issue.” Davrin declared, pointing the axe at the other man. “You do it for money. I do it to save people.”

Lucanis laughed.

“Ah, my hero.” He mocked. “God forbid the valiant grey warden ever kill an innocent man!”

“Get fucked.” Davrin hissed in response, throwing a discarded piece of wood in the other man’s direction. Feigning offence, Lucanis reached down and picked up a small pebble, one that wouldn’t really do too much damage, and he promptly threw it at Davrin.

The rock then proceeded to hit Davrin square in the forehead just as the warden turned around to look at him. 

“You started it!” Lucanis shouted as Davrin took a step towards him, axe still clutched in his hands. “I was only defending myself.” He reasoned, holding his hands up near his chest in his defence.

“You’re insufferable you know that?” Davrin snapped. “Let’s just get this 

job over with so I never have to see you again.”

“Ah, my poor heart!” Lucanis joked, pressing his lips into a thin line as Davrin held the axe up towards him again. Hiding his amusement. “You wouldn’t dare, Rook would be so sad.” 

Lucanis was sure Davrin was joking around with the axe, so he continued to push just a little more. Because why shouldn’t he? This job was already boring enough as is.

Davrin, sick of the man’s incessant blabbering, quickly rounded the fire and threw the axe at Lucanis’ feet.

“You chop the wood then wise guy. I’m done with this.” The warden sighed, rolling his shoulders as he turned away from the crow. Hell, even Manfred was better company than this.

Lucanis stared down at the axe before he looked back up at Davrin, boring holes through his back with his glare.

“I am not chopping wood.” He declared, almost sounding offended at the idea.

Davrin let out a frustrated sigh, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned and walked back towards Lucanis.

“Fine then.” He declared when he reached the other man, a mere few inches between them. “I guess you’ll have to freeze.”

Davrin had fully approached Lucanis with the intention of picking the axe up and walking away with it, in order to make sure Lucanis had no way of taking his words back, however he found his gaze locked on Lucanis’s eyes. All he could do was contort his face in annoyance at the smug pools of brown looking back at him.

Lucanis tilted his chin up just a little bit, that smug look in his eyes quickly reflected by the grin that bloomed across his face. 

“Tch.” He muttered. “You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid, grey warden.” He joked, attempting to take the other man by surprise.

It was a joke.

He was joking, he didn’t really mean it. He just wanted to get on Davrin’s nerves a little bit more. 

However it was his turn to be taken by surprise as Davrin grabbed his one of his wrists and pulled him forward in one swift motion, he barely had time to process before their chests were pressed up against one another and their lips were locked together.

It was rough, carnal, Lucanis felt himself desperate as his hands gripped at Davrin’s waist barely letting himself or the other man come up for air.

Davrin’s hands clasped either side of Lucanis’s face, walking them backwards until Lucanis felt the cold bark of a tree against his back. 

That’s when Davrin paused, pulling away ever so slightly. There was a look of annoyance on his face, as if he was saying “I can’t believe you made me do this.” And Lucanis could only smirk.

“Let’s not tell rook about this, yeah?” The crow grinned, breathless. His lips kissed red, his cheeks flushed.

Davrin could only roll his eyes, pressing into the other man again as he went in for another kiss. One of his hands travelled down to Lucanis’ neck, thumb tracing the dip of his collar bones.

Lucanis pressed back, deepening the kiss at every moment he could, their moans muffled by their embrace.

“I’m still going to kill you.” Davrin muttered as their lips parted for nearly a second, sliding his knee ever so purposefully between Lucanis’ legs. The crow shuddered.

“To be slain by you would be an honour.” 

[roughentumble]

God. I bet Logan gets really bad domdrop. He'll finish a scene and get real quiet and then softly asks, "Babe, am I bad person?"

GOD. LITERALLY ABSOLUTELY SOOOOOO TRUEEEEEE

because he's always at war with his desires and his impulses and he tries to act very Human, like he doesnt /hate/ being a mutant and there are parts he embraces, but he also tends to hide/downplay those sides and only bring them out when he WANTS to shock someone. he contains multitudes. he's like, big on how others perceive him and will play into that intentionally in order to get the social upper hand by not presenting exactly how you'd expect, either being more or less animalistic than his apperance and your own biases would lead you to think.

im getting a little off topic but it is related! despite all that he is scared of being Too Other, Too Freak, Too Beast, Too Animal, Too Mindless. is he too violent? can he put down the violence, will the world let him? is he only made to be a weapon? what would others think of him, if they saw all the instincts he fights against? is he the instincts he fights, or is he the thinking man who wrestles with them?

all questions he struggles with, so any scene-- but extremely and especially a scene where he's mean or violent-- is going to bring those questions back up in his head until he's found a way to settle them and accept himself. i love the idea of wade and logan going out into the woods to dismember and gut each other, and then fuck in the bloody aftermath while their bodies are still knitting together, but logan is still trying to cling to normalcy and humanity enough that it would cause MAJOR domdrop once they were done. he'd be nauseous over what he got pleasure out of doing to another person, because doesnt that just confirm every evil thing ever said about him? while wade doesnt have the same reservations, because he's made peace with his own violence, and is much easier able to compartmentalize what theyre doing here as their version of "playing" because they can both take it. logan has absolutely no desire to dismember someone who cant grow back from it(or even if he does have the urge to do so with people who wont heal, the fact that they wont heal stays his hand and makes the thought repulsive even when the urge to do so with SOMEONE remains), so clearly this doesnt say anything bad about logan, to wade. clearly logan is just someone to the left of human who has inhuman urges and has no interest in sating them with the blood of innocents, he's just a Guy. its Fine. but logan isnt able to see that distinction in himself, and really struggles with feeling like a monster

he needs a lot of TLC and gentle introspection to get over it, and even after he's dealt with it there will be times where he looks over at wade and needs to know. did i hurt you too badly? am i bad because i want to hurt you? am i a monster? could you ever love me when i have your blood in my teeth?

then there's the "dont touch me, im a fucking monster" days where he starts breathing heavy and getting in his own head, and he needs to be talked to nice and sweet, reminded of how happy it makes wade and how he isnt alone in their games. he isnt bad for being an aggressor. because that's what it comes down to, being the aggressor feels like an evil tainted role when its him, but obviously its not bad when WADE is hurting HIM-- a flaw in his logic that he cant see when he's in the moment and panicking and feeling like utter crap

logan getting domdrop is actually something that can be so personal

[xxhisgirlxx]

JJs Girl

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, protected sex, tit play, established relationship, fluffy

“you coming fishing?” John B asks JJ, slapping him on the shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before he begins pulling him along.

“baby-” JJ looks to you, and you quickly fix your face, a smile spreading over your features. 

“go ahead.” you encourage him. “ive got some cleaning to do around the house anyways.” you shrug

JJ frowns. you should have known better than to attempt to hide your emotions from him, he sees so easily through you. “sorry, JB.” he steps out of his friends hold. “im staying home with y/n.”

John B sighs dramatically, tipping his head back. “fine!” he leaves the patio, grumbling something about all of his friends having girlfriends and leaving him behind.

“you can go, i don't mind.” you say softly as JJ sits down on the sofa next to you.

“nope.” he shakes his head. “need some alone time with my pretty girl.” 

you feel your cheeks heat up as he pulls you into his side, kisses being pressed against your head. despite dating for almost a year now, JJ never fails to make you blush.

“i missed you.” you coo out, snuggling into his chest.

“yeah?” he smirks down at you. “even though it was literally less than 24 hours since i saw you last?”

“ugh, still too long.” you roll your eyes, even though you're happy JJ got to spend some time with his friends, a boys night only at the chalet.

“so what cleaning do you have to do? i can help.”

“baby, i was just making something up so you wouldn't feel bad.” you giggle. “i mean, i do have laundry to put away but…”

“but you'd rather do something else?” JJ questions.

“mhm…” you stand up slowly, hand squeezing around JJ as you pull him inside, walking him towards your room.

“so this is what you meant by missing me?” JJ laughs, shutting and locking the door behind you even though no one is home.

“hey.” you pout. “i missed you and i missed you.”

“aw, babygirl.” JJ laughs gently, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. you're instantly lost in his lips, not even realizing that JJ had moved you further into the room until he's laying you down onto your bed.

“JJ…” you whisper. “please.”

“i got you, baby.” he keeps his voice soft and soothing as he kisses you again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as his hands trail over your body, running his fingertips down your arms and cupping your waist, anything to touch you.

“will you-” you begin before suddenly feeling shy when JJ looks down at you.

“will i what?” a smile spreads across his face. he loves when you ask him specifically for what you want, instead of just letting him take the lead and do whatever he pleases, having to guess what feels best for you.

“um…” you cover your face with your hands, only getting the confidence to say anything when you don't have to look JJ in the eye. “play with my chest.”

you can't get the actual words out. breasts, boobs, tits, whatever you want to call them, and you have to settle for chest as it's the least embarrassing

“hell yeah.” JJ let's his excitement slip before calming himself, knowing how much his energy effects you.

JJs large hands cup over your chest, rubbing at your breasts through your tank top and bra. JJ kisses you again, but keeps them light so you can really pay attention to his palms rubbing against your nipples.

“can i take this off?” JJ asks, hands moving down your stomach and disappearing underneath the hem of your shirt.

“yeah.” you nod, sitting up to allow him to pull the fabric away, leaving you in just a bra. JJ has seen you naked many times before, but every time feels new and intimate with how gentle and caring he is...on occasion.

JJ reaches behind your back and unclips your bra after struggling with the clasp for a second, but he doesn't instantly pull it away.

He starts with the straps, slowly guiding them down your shoulders as his mouth follows with kisses, spreading goosebumps along your arms.

“JJ.” you whimper out, a plea for more.

“mhm.” he hums, understanding what you're asking for as he pulls the cups down, revealing your already hard nipples.

he doesn't even wait to get your bra all the way off before his mouth latches onto your skin, tongue briefly flicking over your nipple before his plush lips wrap around the bud with a soft suck.

your hands come to his messy dirty blonde hair, scrunching it between your fingers as he plays with your chest using his mouth, switching back and forth to give each side equal attention.

“does that feel good?” he asks, a smile on his face. it's a rhetorical question, if the moans didn't tell him, then the blissed out look on your face would.

JJs goes back to sucking on your nipple, one of his hands cupping your other breast, thumb swiping over your nipple as his other hand skirts down your stomach.

you feel your breath suck in before you even realize as he passes over the button on your shorts and delves right between your legs, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

“oh, god!” you squeal out. “JJ!”

you can feel his smile against your chest as he rubs his fingers into you, pushing your already wet underwear against your cunt, focusing in on where he knows your clit is, having memorized your entire body from head to toe.

“i need you.” you whine. “come on, please.”

JJ looks up at you, his gaze heated as his hand continues to rub against your core. “need me where?”

“need you…” you whisper out. “need you to fuck me.”

“that's my girl.” JJ leans in and gives you a kiss. he always tries to encourage you when you manage to use your words.

JJ moves so he's kneeling between your spread thighs. the first thing he does is rip his shirt off, and you ignore the urge to reach up and rub your hands against his defined muscles.

“my handsome man.” you smile up at him, love so evident in your eyes, echoing the words he always says to you.

“love you.” JJ knows his cock is straining against his shorts, and you are beyond desperate for him, but he still pauses to lean down and give you yet another kiss.

“love you too.” you coo back. it hasn't been all that long since you've made that declaration to each other, so the words still feel exciting every time they're said.

JJs hands focus in on the zipper and buttons of your shorts, quickly undoing them to slide the jeans off your legs as he tosses them away. 

you smile shyly as he begins to focus on getting himself the rest of the way undressed as you slip your underwear off and let them fall off the bed as you splay out.

“look at you.” JJ coos, making sure to get the condom out of his pocket. despite you being on birth control, you're always extra cautious, way too young and responsible to get pregnant.

"come on.” you giggle, impatient, as he takes the condom and rips the foil, spreading the rubber over his length.

“kay, ready.” JJ gets himself into position, holding himself up over top of you as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

you take a deep breath to relax your body as he pushes inside, making sure to go extra slow to allow you to adjust.

“f-fuck.” you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him further into you as JJs hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

“give me a minute.” you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. JJ distracts himself with kissing along your jaw and neck until you give him a nod, a signal that it's alright to move.

“mmm.” you hum out, unable to actually form words in response.

“feel so good baby.” JJ groans out, keeping his thrusts slow and steady at first.

JJ back arches as he ducks his head to wrap his mouth around your nipple again, sucking as his hips slowly increase in pace.

you moan out, arms pressing him closer into your chest, encouragement to continue as he pumps into you, knowing neither of you can last that long.

“so warm and wet for me baby.” JJ praises you, switching to the other side of your chest as the wet squelching sound spreads over the room with every movement of his cock.

“only for you.” you smile softly, glad when JJ lifts his head to press a kiss against your lips. 

“love you, love you, love you.” JJ says, forever the soft and sweet boyfriend that you fell so deeply for.

“cum for me.” he urges you, shifting his weight to one arm to allow his other hand to drop, rubbing circles over your clit.

“oh my god!” you squeal out, head tilting back, pressing into the pillow as his fingertips work against your bud, having figured out just what you like and what touches get you there fastest.

“fuck, can feel you clenching around me.” JJ gasps, hips moving faster, fucking into you with a fury that you know means he's going to cum soon.

“i-i-” you try to warn JJ, but the words dissolve into moans as your orgasm hits you, high washing over your body as your legs shake, the tightening of your pussy causing pope to cum as well, pushing his hips forward to cum as deeply inside of you as possible, even if he is sheathed with a condom.

“fuck! baby!” JJ shouts out, a few final thrusts before he pulls out, collapsing against the bed next to you.

“oh my god.” you giggle, legs snapping closed to cover the mess between your thighs as your hands come to your face, hiding your bright red cheeks from JJ.

“you're so cute.” JJ kisses over top of your hands before standing up and heading to the bathroom to discard his condom, coming back with a warm wet washcloth.

you keep your face covered as he cleans you up, always feeling a little shy right after sex.

"hey.” JJ pokes you.

You put your hands down, a soft smile on your face as he hands you your clothes to put back on. despite knowing no one will be home for many more hours, you don't like to risk getting caught by hanging around naked.

you both get dressed quickly before you wrap your arms around JJs shoulders, tucking your head into his neck.

“thank you.” you whisper. “that was really, really, really, good.”

“always happy to help.” JJ laughs, reaching down to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you through the house, back towards the patio to continue relaxing.

“ah, so that's why you didn't go fishing.”

“John B!” you squeal, jumping out of JJs arms.

“what? Pope was busy with Cleo so I came back here. y'all are loud by the way.” John B shrugs.

"dude, im going to kill you.” JJ says, rushing after John B as your laughter spreads throughout the backyard, watching your boyfriend chase his friend through the grass

[runraerun]

AO3 | WC: 7.8k | Rated: E | CW: Internalized homophobia, references to the death of a parent, lots of swearing and general vulgarity from the both of them. Drug usage. Discussions of trading sex acts for drugs. Billy being an asshole but hey that’s new. | Tags: ADHD Eddie Munson, Semi-closeted Eddie, Fully-closeted Billy, One-Sided Steddie (or is it? We don’t know because of unreliable narrator reasons) Bully Billy Hargrove, Bullied Eddie Munson, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, Eddie calls Billy ‘m’lord’ in here god help him, Happy Ending, some angst sprinkled throughout, but overall quite fluffy.

(Title is inspired by a song of the same name by Chromeo.)

Summary:

“I’ll cut you a deal, Munson,” Billy says, his icy-pop blue eyes and dark lashes illuminated by the end of his stolen cigarette. “I’ll let you have something. Y’know, as payment.”

But pretty as Billy is, Eddie’s no sucker. “I don’t do trades either.”

“You’re gonna wanna hear this trade.” Billy exhales a cloud of white smoke between them.

Eddie doubts it, but the sooner he hears it the sooner he can shoot it down. “Spit it out then.”

Billy Hargrove stands there, half-smirk on his face, hips tilted forward. Like he’s God’s fucking gift. “I’ll let you suck my dick.”

And that.

Well.

Eddie isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but it sure as hell isn’t that. 

Or, Billy tries to pay for drugs by offering to let Eddie blow him.

Of all the mugs Eddie expects to see in his neck of the woods, the one attached to Billy Hargrove, resident bad boy slash heartthrob with a notoriously short fuse and a mean right hook, is not one of ‘em.

The fact that he’s alone isn’t much of a comfort, but it’s… well, it’s something. It means if Billy’s planning on jumping him and stealing his stash, then at least Eddie’s got a shot at running and actually getting away with all his teeth intact.

Eddie sucks back on his cigarette, grateful he has something to do with his fidgeting hands as he eyes Hargrove’s approach. Tries his best to keep still—something he’s always been absolute dog shit at. Even as a little kid. They tossed words at him like Attention Deficit Disorder and Hyperactivity ’til the cows came home. Never changed anything, though. Mom always just called it ants in his pants. For Uncle Wayne, it was worms up his butt. All said in love, of course. Eddie was ant and worm-free, far as he knew. Just had a lot of energy is all. And a lot to say too. That isn’t a crime! But right now, under Billy Hargrove’s slow approach, he tries his damndest to get all his ants and his worms to settle down. No sudden moves in front of ticking time bombs.

“You’re Munson, right?” Hargrove asks in a low, slightly nasally voice. He’s stopped a few feet from the picnic table that Eddie’s perched on, his canister of goodies sitting unassumingly beside him.

Eddie fights his nerves—bulldozes over them, more like, and smiles wide, holding out his arms in a display of showmanship. “The one and only.”

Billy scoffs as his eyes travel around the clearing. Doesn’t seem too impressed by the ol’ Munson razzle-dazzle. “You alone out here?” he asks, eyes finally returning to Eddie’s.

Eddie shifts, leaning forward slightly—literally on edge. Why the hell did he have to say that so fucking ominously? “I was ‘til you showed up,” Eddie answers.

Billy hums noncommittally and doesn’t even try to hide the way he’s looking Eddie up and down. Sizing him up. Double-checking to make sure Eddie’s not a threat, maybe. Eddie fights the urge to duck his head and pull his shoulders in to assure Billy that he isn’t one. He’s a lover, not a fighter. In theory, anyway.

“Now what can I do for you on this fine evening, Mr. Hargrove? I don’t keep everything on me…“ Eddie trails off before he continues, “But I got anything you’d want.”

Billy snorts, “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“You’re from Cali, right? I got weed from there. Stuff that tastes like blueberries,” Eddie leans forward and bounces his brows, “I got some shrooms from the coast too that could even knock someone like you on your ass. So, what’re you into, Hargrove? What’s your poison?”

Billy’s got an amused look on his face. He’s smirking, but no part of it’s warm or welcoming. It sets Eddie even further on edge than he already had been. “You sure know a lot about me.”

Eddie shrugs, feigning innocence. He takes another pull from his cigarette. “It’s a small town; people talk. Especially around people like me. Y’know, the kinda people who don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. And you, Billy Hargrove, you’re, well…”

Eddie bites his tongue before he continues to embarrass himself. Clears his throat instead, tries to think of something not entirely stupid to say, but the words rush around his noggin so quickly that he can’t seem to catch and pin down any one of ‘em.

The forest floor crunches under the sole of Billy’s heavy black boots as he takes a slow, purposeful step forward. “I’m what, freak?”

Eddie swallows. Feels the hair on the back of his neck stand. Jesus, does this guy ever blink? Fucking blue-eyed people and their zombie stares…

He smiles despite his nerves. Then, with a tilt of his head, he answers. “You’re hard to miss.”

It’s grounds to get punched, Eddie knows. Innocent as the comment is, Eddie’s been hit for less. Shit, he got shoved into a locker for looking too long that one time in middle school. Spent the whole fucking lunch break with no one but his ripe gym socks to keep him company. So yeah, maybe Eddie’s a little jumpy around jocks like Billy Hargrove who look like they could fold Eddie into a pretzel without breaking a sweat.

Billy doesn’t look like he’s gearing up to punch Eddie, though. Not yet anyway. He just looks sort of… amused.

It’s getting late. The sun’s low in the sky, and every few seconds it catches on Billy’s earring or his chain, both temporarily blinding him. Eddie doesn’t let his eyes wander, though. He’s got enough self-discipline for that at least.

“I’ll take some of that blueberry kush,” Billy finally says, checking over his shoulder one last time before he flicks his head towards Eddie. “But I don’t got any money. Not until Monday. I’ll have to owe you.”

“Sorry pal,” Eddie leans back, palms against the flat of the picnic tabletop. He blows the smoke from his cigarette up towards the sky. “I don’t do I.O.U’s.”

The air shifts between them. Eddie can feel it. The blue-eyed zombie stare darkens, and Billy takes another step forward until his hip nearly knocks up against one of Eddie’s bent legs. “What? You don’t think I’m good for it, pal?”

“I don’t know you, man,” Eddie mutters around his cigarette, shifting uncomfortably. He always hates this part of the job. He’s been a punching bag on and off for most of his life, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta like it.

“You just went on and on about how you did.” Billy spits, and Eddie flinches as it hits his cheek. He doesn’t dare raise a hand to swipe it off though, lest it be interpreted as a move to strike.

“Look, I can hold it for you until Monday, but that’s the best I can do.” Eddie offers, but it’s not enough. He knows it’s not even close to enough. Guys like Hargrove aren’t used to being told no.

“C’mon man, there’s gotta be some deal you can cut me. I just wanna have a good fucking night. You can understand that, can’t you, Munson?” Billy asks, his voice going soft. Smooth. Breathy.

And even though his insides are fucking liquifying in real time as he does it, Eddie shakes his head, his long hair curtaining his face as he does. “Can’t do it, man.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just beat the shit out of you and take your shit anyway, huh? How about that?” Billy asks, his bottom lip caught between especially sharp-looking teeth. Eddie looks up, his dark eyes lock onto Billy’s salt-water blue ones. Stormy fucking seas. Eddie sure as hell doesn’t want to get beat up tonight, but if he starts cutting deals and giving special treatment to everyone who threatens him he’d be intimidated right out of business. And he needs the cash. Can’t leave all the bills to Uncle Wayne.

Before Eddie can think up a clever answer, Billy’s got his head thrown back, and he’s cackling. “Shit, I’m fucking with you, dude. Put that face away. I swear, no one in this fucking town can take a goddamn joke.”

Eddie doesn’t bother defending himself, just takes his cigarette from his mouth, knocks off the ash and gives a shaky exhale before putting it back between his lips. He barely starts in on his next inhale when the damn thing is plucked out of his mouth.

Lightening fast. Eddie hadn’t even seen his hands—but there was his cigarette, half-smoked, between Billy’s lips. Eddie feels his face heat at the idea of Billy’s mouth being where his own was, just a second before.

“Ha ha,” Eddie mutters, his eyes narrowing. He’s feeling somewhat brave, despite feeling distinctly like a mouse that’s being battered by a cat's paw. “Very cute.”

Billy tips his head, accepting the comment as if it were a compliment. He doesn’t give Eddie his dart back though—the guy just keeps smoking it with a swarmy fucking grin on his tanned, well-proportioned face.

Because the truth is that Billy is easy on the eyes. Nice to look at. It’s entirely counteracted by the fact that the longer you look at that aforementioned face the higher your chances are of getting a knuckle sandwich sent hurtling your way… but Eddie’s still got functioning eyeballs. He can see that Billy’s… well. Beautiful.

In a weird way, though. Like how Eddie pictures the elves from Middle Earth might look.

Fucking ethereal and shit.

“I’ll cut you a deal, Munson,” Billy says, blue eyes and dark lashes illuminated by the cherry of that stolen cigarette. “I’ll let you have something. Y’know, as payment.”

But pretty as Billy is, Eddie’s no sucker. “I don’t do trades either.”

“You’re gonna wanna hear this trade.” Billy exhales a cloud of white between them.

Eddie doubts it, but the sooner he hears it the sooner he can shoot it down. “Spit it out then.” He sighs.

But Billy doesn’t ‘spit it out’. Instead, he shifts weight from foot to foot, looking suddenly agitated again. Billy sniffs and scratches his nose with the nail of his thumb. Like he’s tweaking. Eddie waits him out. Curiosity officially piqued.

Finally, after doing his little dance, Billy leans forward, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. “I’ll let you suck my dick.”

And that.

Well.

Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

The shock is written all over Eddie’s face, he’s sure. He’s never been good at concealing his emotions—an open book, his mom called him. Shit liar, is what his dad called him. Either way, he knows the surprise of what Billy’s offered up plays across his face by the way Billy’s eyes dance around it, looking pleased.

“What?” Eddie squeaks out, face suddenly on fire.

“You heard me,” Billy snaps, “I ain’t sayin’ it again.”

Eddie blinks, looks away from Billy Hargrove’s icey freeze-pop eyes. It’s no easy task. “You’ll let me…?”

Eddie motions towards the crotch of Billy’s exceptionally tight jeans. Jeans that leave very little to the imagination, Eddie might add.

Billy grins, his pink tongue caught between his teeth as he leans back, jutting his hips out a little.

“I’ll let you,” he confirms. Standing there like he’s God’s fucking gift.

Though he’s got very little air left in his lungs, Eddie gives a weak scoff. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?”

And for the first time tonight, Eddie does feel at risk of being sucker punched. Billy’s eyes flare, and just like that his beauty melts into something ugly. Like a spell is cast over him—beauty to beast. “I’m no cock-sucker.” He spits out.

In a show of surrender, Eddie raises his hands. “I didn’t say you were. I just—usually when someone is offering sexual favors it’s… Y’know what? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I’m not—I don’t trade in pleasures of the flesh, ‘kay? That’s not what I’m doing here, Hargrove. It’s cash only.”

But Billy’s either got a hearing problem or a comprehension problem because he rolls his eyes and just keeps on bartering. “Fine, I’ll give you a handjob. After my blow job.”

Now. Eddie isn’t a prude. In fact, he’s probably something of a pervert if his porno of choice is any indication of that, but this—with Billy?

Eddie’s spent this entire interaction scared fucking stiff, and now Billy’s offering to go and get him into an even more vulnerable position—with Eddie’s pants literally around his ankles?

“No.” Eddie aggressively shakes his head, sending his curls in motion. No no no. Fuck no. As hot as Billy is—no. The decision is final. Take it or leave it, Eddie thinks stubbornly. Heels successfully dug in.

Billy sighs through his nose, takes a step back and chuckles dryly to himself. “I know you’re a queer, Munson. Don’t—!” Billy snaps, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face when he dares open his mouth to deny it, “don’t fucking lie to me.

Eddie swallows, promptly shutting the fuck up.

Is he really that obvious…?

Billy continues, “I know you’re a queer. I saw the way you used to look at Harrington, back when we were all in school together. Gym class,” Billy leans forward, back in Eddie’s space, their shared cigarette bouncing between them as he speaks, “the showers. Remember?”

It’s been a year since Hargrove and Harrington both leap-frogged him out of Hawkins High, diplomas in tow. A full year, but apparently Billy’s got a fucking photographic memory. Eddie feels his t-shirt stick to his back, slick with sweat. “Whatever, man. It’s not a crime to look.”

“It is in this shit hole of a town,” Billy chuckles, dark and humourless, “so you get it now? I know you like dick. And I like pot. So, let’s work something out, here, Munson.”

Billy claps his hands together between them, loud and jarring. “Time’s a’wastin’, amigo!”

Jesus this guy…

“Even if I did like dick,” Eddie tilts his head and scrunches his nose, “it doesn’t mean I want your dick, Hargrove.”

“A dick’s a dick, man. And trust me, I got a nice, big fat one for you to choke on, trust me, you’ll love it,” Billy laughs as he speaks, watching in amusement as Eddie rubs a hand over his heated, blotchy face. “C’mon, you’ve sucked cock before, right?”

The simple answer is yeah, a couple of times. Every time it ended pretty much the same though. With him being shoved off after they’d finished. Being told they weren’t gay, that if Eddie were to ever tell anyone about the encounter they would deny it, call Eddie a liar, or worse, beat the shit out of him.

He’s not a dummy; Eddie knows being queer in Hawkins is a risk, so it made sense to want to keep it hush-hush. Eddie’s the rumoured gay kid, so if you’re gonna experiment with someone, why not let it be with him? But after a handful of times being treated like trash—something people needed to wash their hands in Javex from after simply touching him—he stopped. It didn’t feel good.

“You don’t gotta answer. I already know you have.” Billy mutters, smug. “Mouth like that.”

There’s no way Billy knows, but Eddie ducks his head, tired of how this entire fucking conversation has him feeling like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Tired of how the darker the sky gets, the brighter Billy’s eyes seem to turn.

And what the fuck’s wrong with Eddie’s mouth..?

“Cash only,” Eddie repeats. Monotone. Suddenly overstimulated as fuck.

Billy finally pulls the last bit that he can from the cigarette, down to the butt, before he flicks the remains of it into the grass. He gives one final, frustrated exhale of smoke. “Fine. Jesus, Munson, you drive one hell of a bargain. But I’ll sweeten the deal for you, alright?”

“Jesus, Hargrove, are your ears not working? Or did you get hit one too many times with the basketball during your jock days? I said I’m not interested. In your cock or your hand or whatever else you try and offer up.” Eddie exclaims, voice going high with strain.

But it’s like the more worked up Eddie gets, the more Billy wags his fucking tail. He’s all lit up, shiny white teeth built for puncturing. He gets back to crowding Eddie—Eddie, who’s one hair’s breadth away from raising his hands and shoving this smug asshole away from him, not caring if he gets his ass kicked as a consequence, but then Billy’s talking again. And Eddie… Eddie’s listening.

“We could kiss a little,” Billy drawls out, angling his mouth towards Eddie’s ear. He lets his voice drop to a low rumble, his words vibrating in that wide chest of his. It sends a chill down Eddie’s spine. “Y’know, make out. You got a van, right? Nice and private. You’d like that.”

Eddie turns his head towards Billy, so close they’re nearly touching each other. His mouth hangs open, slack, but Eddie can’t get a fucking word out. His whole fucking life, all he’s ever heard is ‘Jesus, does this kid have an off switch?’ ‘Eddie, give mommy’s ears a break, please,’ ‘Eddie is very disruptive in class with his constant chatting’. And now he can’t make a single goddamn sound!

Billy, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased at rendering the great motor-mouth-Munson to a mute. “I’m a good kisser, too.” He adds, eyes dropping down to Eddie’s mouth. Like he’s gonna do it right here and now. Eddie’s throat clicks when he swallows.

The embarrassing part is that, well—Except his Mom and his Meemaw and his weird cousin that one time, he’s never… y’know. Been kissed.

Sucked cock? Sure, yeah. That ship has sailed. Sayo-fuckin’-nara.

But kissing? On the mouth? Romantically? It hasn’t happened for Eddie yet. Not that any of what Billy’s propositioning here is in any way romantic, of course, but…

Eddie watches as Billy darts a pink tongue out between his lips, wetting them so that they glisten. Jesus Christ. How can he say no to that? Rules or no, Eddie’s only fucking human. Does he not bleed if he’s cut? Does he not get hard if he’s presented with an absolute fucking smoke show like Billy Hargrove offering to make out with him? All for the low low price of his dignity and a couple of ounces?

“You… actually want to?” Eddie frowns, counter to the nervous smile that’s pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Billy clicks his tongue and shrugs a shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon for like, the hundredth time. “What I want is for you to cut me a deal. That’s enough, ain’t it?”

No, is Eddie’s knee-jerk answer. It’s not enough. Not even close. But, maybe the first kiss fantasy he’s got built up in his head wasn’t ever gonna happen. Especially not for someone like Eddie. He’s probably lucky. Billy’s hot. Willing. And Eddie’s… well, there’s not exactly anyone lining up at Eddie’s front door for the pleasure of his company, let’s just say that.

He feels himself nodding before his brain has even had a chance to catch up. “Yeah. Fine. Okay.”

“Yeah?” Billy grins, canines flashing, “Guess I should’ve started with the chick stuff first, huh?”

Chick stuff? Eddie makes a face. Suddenly emboldened, he shoves a hand against Billy’s shoulder, which just makes him laugh harder. “Don’t be a shithead, Hargrove, or deal’s off. Got it? I’ll walk, I swear to Christ!”

Billy doesn’t agree nor does he disagree, he just leers after Eddie like a fucking bonafied weirdo. And as someone who’s all but cornered the market on being a bonafide weirdo, that’s saying something. He hops off the picnic table, scooping up his lunch box of goodies as he does, not daring to turn his back on Hargrove. “I’m parked just through here.”

Eddie starts towards his van, stealing glances over at Billy as he trudges on after him, only a step behind. Just enough to make Eddie nervous. “Don’t you have like, a job?”

“Two of ‘em, actually.” Billy answers, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Why?”

“How do you not have any cash on you?” Eddie asks, blunt as always.

Billy stiffens, just a little. “That’s none of your business, Munson.”

Eddie raises his hands in yet another mock surrender, “sure, whatever. Remain a man of mystery, I don’t care.”

Just seems stupid, is all. Billy must be fucking terrible with money. Probably spends it all on his obnoxiously loud car. Eddie doesn’t voice any of his many theories though. Billy’s covered in live wires, and Eddie’s not overly eager to start touching and testing ‘em.

The woods aren’t especially dense, but it’s new growth—the old forest chopped down a few decades back and left to grow back all weedy and skinny. There’s lots of branches to duck under along with dirt holes to roll your ankles in. Eddie knows his pathway like the back of his hand by this point, but Billy; not so much. There’s a bundle of eye level branches that always used to smack Eddie in the face when he was focused on his footing, so he makes sure to turn and holds the offending branches back for Billy so he doesn’t totally eat it.

Thinking back, maybe it’s a weird thing to do for another guy, but Eddie’s radar for what’s weird and what isn’t has been busted since he first got cut out of his mom. Always difficult, even back then.

So yeah, Eddie doesn’t get a thank you, or whatever—instead Billy just eyes him with an air of suspicion as he ducks under Eddie’s arm. Like he’s waiting for Eddie to let the branches go or something. Who knows.

Either way, it’s the last great hurdle before they’re back at Eddie’s van, which is right where he left her; parked in the middle of the small gravel lot behind the watershed. Nobody came back here, especially not at night.

His hands shake when he takes out his keys, feeling Billy’s eyes on him. Briefly wonders what kind of mess was waiting for them in the back, but whatever. It’s not like Billy’s expecting The Ritz.

He gets the doors unlocked, and because he’s a gentleman, he holds the door open for his hook-up.

Despite his nerves rattling around under his skin, Eddie gives a little flourish for good measure, holding out an arm for Billy to take. “After you, m’lord.”

Billy scoffs, blue eyes rolling back in his head. And as dim as the light is, Eddie swears he can see two pink spots form on the apples of Billy’s cheeks. He counts it for a win.

“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” Billy mutters as he crawls into the back of Eddie’s van, pointedly ignoring Eddie’s offered arm, the whole thing shifting with the heft of him.

“Wow, y’know what, Hargrove, I had never heard that one before.” Eddie says, hot on Billy’s heels. He swings the door shut behind him.

The back of Eddie’s van is pretty spartan, but only because he’d just finished using it to lug a shit ton of gear to and from a Corroded Coffin gig. What’s left behind is a couple of ratty blankets, some old sweaters, a scattering of sheet music and some candy bar wrappers. It could be neater, but overall it’s not terrible.

Billy sits with his back to one side of the van, his legs spread, knees bent. He sits like a man. One used to taking up room and not apologizing for it. Eddie backs himself up against the opposite wall of the van’s interior, knees bent to his chest, legs crossing at his ankles. There’s not much light back here, but Eddie’s eyes adjust quickly to spot Billy’s agitated-looking face.

“Well?” Mr. California barks, one of his legs begins bouncing restlessly. It shakes the whole van.

Eddie swallows, “well?”

“Where’s the weed?” Billy asks.

Oh.

Right. Wake up, Munson.

Eddie scrambles to get his feet back under him before he squeezes his upper half into the front of the van, reaching into the glove box to grab a baggie.

“Here y’go.” Eddie winces as he pulls himself back through. He sits on bent legs, closer to Billy now. He bestows upon him the sacred sandwich baggy of goods. “Premium blueberry kush, 100% indica. So it’ll mellow you right out. Not that you need to chill out, of course, but, y’know. It should, in theory, help with that scary vein you get in your forehead sometimes.”

Billy glares at Eddie as he swipes the bag out of his hands, the scary vein threatening to make an appearance right there and now. He turns that glare toward the bundles of dried herbs.

“You got a bong or a pipe or somethin’?” Billy mumbles.

“Duh,” Eddie scoffs, breathing entirely too hard, “Why?”

“What’d’ya mean, ‘why?’ To smoke this shit with.” Billy gives the baggy a few vicious shakes in front of Eddie’s face.

Eddie feels his eyes cross as he follows the weed. “Right now?”

“Unless you feel like rollin’ it.” Billy shrugs, sounding like his already thin patience is beginning to wear even thinner.

“No—uh, I just thought you’d wanna smoke at home or whatever.” Not with Eddie.

A crease forms between Billy’s eyebrows as he frowns. “What, you don’t wanna smoke with me, Munson?”

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, “hey, I’ll smoke with anyone—“

“Then shut the fuck up and get the bong already!” Billy shouts, fuse burnt down to the quick.

And if there’s one thing about Eddie, is he responds well to yelling. Or, not well, per se, but shouting always seems to snap him out of whatever fog he’s in. It works on him. So, yeah, he responds. Jumps to attention. His mom used to have to snap her fingers in front of his face to ‘bring him back’, she said. No one else seems to bother with that sort of gentle touch with Eddie though, except Uncle Wayne, but he usually just gives Eddie’s hair a tussle instead of a snap.

So back to the front he goes, sliding the keys into the ignition and starting the old girl up while he’s there so that they’ve got some music to fill the silence. And if memory serves him correctly, Billy’s got pretty decent taste, music-wise.

When he sits back down, bong in hand.

“Ta-da!” Eddie sings, holding the contraption up by the neck to Billy in victory, careful not to tip it over. Billy looks entirely unimpressed as he grabs it out of Eddie’s hand and slots it between his thighs.

Lucky bong.

Billy starts grinding up some pieces between his fingers and packing the bowl with a familiarity that Eddie can respect.

Technically, it’s still Eddie’s weed that Billy’s prepping, since he hasn’t exactly gotten payment for the pot yet, but… maybe Billy needs the vapour courage before he can face the idea of kissing another dude. Of kissing Eddie.

Eddie watches from behind the hair he’d let fall in his face as Billy lights the bowl, inhales, and takes a hit. It’s sort of pretty, the way he slowly exhales the smoke out of the side of his mouth. Away from Eddie.

Then the bong is being pressed into his hands. Eddie’s turn.

He takes a rip, then another one once Billy’s taken another hit of his own, and that’s all it takes for the both of ‘em to get laid out on their asses. They end up flat on their backs, the round part of their shoulders touching, both staring up at the ceiling of the van, with rolled-up sweaters and blankets under their heads in the way of makeshift pillows. They’re the kind of high where time feels like it’s barely moving. Something made up. A concept. Like there’s a very real possibility that Eddie and Billy have been lying here for an eternity, and then some.

And Eddie still hasn’t gotten any kisses from Billy.

But he also hasn’t gotten any punches by Billy either, so there’s that…

“You ever seen the ocean, Munson?” Billy murmurs in a voice that’s gone a little rough thanks to all the smoke still floating around the van. Now successfully hot-boxed. Drawing out their high.

Eddie’s arms feel heavy. “No.”

Billy turns his neck to look at Eddie like he’s re-evaluating his idea of him paired with this new, disappointing information. Eddie turns his head away from Billy, just a little, feeling weirdly embarrassed. “Never even left the state.”

Small town, trailer trash… that’s probably what Billy thinks of him. Billy, who’s been everywhere. Especially compared to Eddie. He expects to get laughed at, but Billy keeps surprising Eddie. He just looks… bummed out.

“You’d probably hate it,” Billy states, sure of himself, eyes dancing across Eddie’s face. “You’d burn right fuckin’ quick. Get sand all up in your shorts. D’you even know how to swim?”

“A little.” Eddie means to say defensively, but it comes out as little more than a sigh.

“Not in waves, though, I bet. You’d end up swallowing your weight in seawater before I hauled your ass out,” Billy’s smiling at the strange little fantasy where Eddie’s tormented by the elements. Eddie’s giggling along too, though he’s entirely unsure as to why.

“A crab might even,” lighting fast, Billy reaches over to punch the barely-there roll on Eddie’s stomach, “get’chya.”

Eddie yelps—or maybe he squeals. He can’t be sure. Either way, whatever sound he lets out isn’t in any way charming or cute. Which; no surprise there. Instinctually, his hand’s gone and encircled itself around Billy’s wrist, but he’s too fucking blitzed out to do more than just squeeze it, trying to appear threatening. Sort of tough when you can’t stop fucking giggling. “Stop, stop—I’m gonna piss myself, dude.”

Billy’s got his tongue caught between his teeth, laughing along, low and rough in his throat, but to his credit (and probably a desire not to be covered in piss) he releases his hold on Eddie’s stomach.

They settle back on their backs, one Metallica track leading into another. It’s the only way Eddie can be sure the clocks haven’t all stopped entirely. Proof the passage of time is still in working order. He exhales in relief, staring at Billy’s profile.

For someone so fucking scary, he’s got deceptively cute features. An honest-to-Christ button nose, along with some ridiculously long eyelashes. Golden ringlets fall around his face. Freckles too, all over his cheeks. Even a Cupid’s bow. When Billy fell from heaven, he didn’t hit like, a single ugly branch on his way down.

Eddie blinks before his brain catches up with what he’s looking at; Billy, staring back at him. When did Billy turn his head? How long have their eyes been locked? A second? A year? Time’s fucking with him so hard, Jesus…

“M’not really an outdoorsy kinda guy.” Eddie admits, unable to keep from smiling.

Because of the weed.

Billy gives a lazy snort as if what Eddie had just said was the understatement of the year. “That’s weird, because you kinda look like a bug.”

It shouldn’t make him laugh as hard as it does, but Eddie feels the rumble of it in his chest, and he can’t help but let out a series of very unflattering sounding laughs. Billy’s not laughing along, but he seems entirely entertained by Eddie’s fucking display.

When he finally catches his breath, Eddie indignantly squeaks out, “How do I look like a bug?”

“Because,” Billy flicks his chin towards Eddie’s face, teasing half-smile still firmly in place, “you got them big buggy eyes.”

Eddie blows a low-energy strawberry, rolling his eyes before they land back on Billy. Can’t seem to take his eyes off of him for long. “I’ll have you know that my ‘big buggy eyes’ are my best feature.”

Billy narrows his eyes, clearly amused. “You think so?”

“I know so. It’s what everyone tells me.” Eddie widens his eyes to drive the point home.

Everyone being his mom when she was still alive, and… well, just his mom. But she was a real smart lady. And like, super pretty. A total knock-out. She knew about this sort of thing. He remembers how she used to go on and on about his big brown puppy-dog eyes, about how they’d break hearts one day. And no one, especially not Billy Hargrove, can take that away from him. Even if it is something all moms say to their funny-looking kids.

“Well, everyone’s lying to you,” Billy says, in that casually cruel way of his.

Eddie drops his jaw in an exaggerated show of the offense. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Billy confirms, smug. A true blue asshole; through and through. “Your best feature’s your lips, no question.”

And. Well, no one’s ever said anything about his lips before. Not his mom, not his hook-ups—no one.

They’re just… lips. Not especially big or small. Kind of right in the middle. They’re even kinda chapped right now.

“Gee, thanks.” He murmurs, from lips that Billy Hargrove apparently approves of. Maybe even likes. His fingers twitch at his sides, palms growing sweaty.

Billy just looks away, like Eddie’s caught him doing something wrong. Caught him being nice. Guess it probably hurts the ol’ bad boy image to compliment other boy’s lips. Eddie resists the urge to raise one of his hands and feel along the ridges of his mouth, to map ‘em out. Try and figure out what Billy likes about them enough to say it out loud. He’s buzzing with the compliment.

“So, you still want… y’know, payment or whatever?” Billy asks, keeping his words to little more than a low murmur between them.

The song playing through the speakers stops—a brief pause before it leads into the next one. It’s deathly quiet in those tense few seconds.

Eddie doesn’t answer Billy right away. He can’t. So instead, he just… lets the questions hang between them. Because the thing is, God help him, he does. And yeah, maybe he didn’t plan on his first kiss being with big bad Billy Hargrove—maybe instead of golden curls and freckles Eddie had envisioned dark, fluffy hair and a splattering of moles. Big brown bedroom eyes instead of sharp, icy blue ones. Either way, he’s way out of his depth. Out of his league. In fact, Eddie should be on his hands and knees thanking Billy for even considering sucking face with a guy like him. He should be psyched. And he is!

Fuck, this weed is making it hard to keep his thoughts linear. He stares back at Billy, realizing suddenly that he’s been waiting for an answer to his question.

“Nothing is ever free, Hargrove,” Eddie answers, cryptic, even to his own ears, “you should know that.”

Because it’s the truth, isn’t it? Nobody just does shit out of the goodness of their hearts. Everyone expects something in return. Everyone’s gotta pay the piper. And if something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. So yeah, Eddie gives what he can, but he also takes what he can get. Same as Billy, Eddie suspects.

Billy’s got a real perplexed sort of look on his face. Golden and tan, even in the cold, sterile light of night. His eyes momentarily dart to Eddie’s lips, just for a split second. But split second or no, Eddie’d caught it. The tiny motion sends his beat-up little dime-store heart all a’flutter. Billy likes these lips.

“Close your eyes,” Billy tells him, voice cigarette rough.

Eddie does it, trying to keep his breathing even. Shallow, so he doesn’t puff hot air in Billy’s face when he approaches. His hands lay limply by his sides, with his hair splayed around his like some expanding ink blot on the floor of his van.

He has the sudden and quite frankly embarrassing image of Snow White lying dead in her glass coffin, pale-skinned and raven-haired, waiting for a kiss of her own.

It’s so stupid that he ends up snorting.

“What? You think this is funny, Munson?” Billy growls, voice sounding like it’s still to the right of him, but that he’s propped up on an elbow or something.

Eddie shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed. A smile tugs at one of the corners of his mouth, totally beyond his control. “No, no, it’s stupid. I. Just—fuck. Sorry. Forget I did that.”

“If you think this is stupid, then I can go. I don’t need this shit—“

”No! Stop—“ Eddie reaches out and grabs the front of Billy’s shirt, his eyes popping open in panic. “You’re not stupid—I’m… shit, you’re gonna laugh.”

“Just tell me, shithead.” Billy snaps, face getting more and more red as his temper rises.

“Fine. Jesus.” Eddie squirms under the intensity of Billy’s gaze. All hard edges and intimidation now. Eddie’s only had the Billy that tickles him and tells him nice things about his lips for a fucking millisecond, but he already misses him.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, alright?” He blurts out, quick like a bandaid.

And with that, Billy’s eyes go a little funny. The icey shards in his eyes melt back to tumultuous waters. “Seriously?”

“No, dude, I’m lying about being a total loser with no game.” Eddie snorts, emboldened by his buzzing high.

Billy frowns, “Aren’t you like, two years older than me?”

“Look, I had opportunities, okay? But mostly… It was, y’know. With girls. Pretty ones, too!” his brows shoot up, attempting to emphasize the point, “but I just… I never wanted to.”

Billy’s stone-still while he listens. Looking like he’s hanging off every word that Eddie’s stumbling over.

“So, you can’t even fake it?” He asks.

Eddie blinks, suddenly lost. “Fake what?”

“Liking chicks.” He answers quickly.

“Nah,” Eddie huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “I’m a shitty liar.”

“Poor bastard.” Billy mumbles, mostly to himself. Then he clicks his tongue, “That’s a real tough break, amigo.”

Eddie’s shoulders twitch. “I get by.”

A corner of Billy’s mouth turns down and he tilts his head like he’s allowing Eddie some small, indiscernible mercy.

“I just feel bad,” Billy says, low and smooth, “you starting at the very top like this. Everyone else after me is gonna feel like a major fuckin’ letdown.”

Eddie snorts, looking up at Billy, who’s got himself propped up on an elbow and is sort of hovering above him. “Big talk, Hargrove.”

Canines flash. “Well I got a big game, Munson.”

“You’re a real cocky b—” Eddie’s words are smushed back into his mouth when Billy suddenly leans forward and presses his lips against Eddie’s.

Billy’s got a hand against Eddie’s neck, the pad of his thumb against the edge of his jaw, tilting his face up just so. Eddie can hear his heart thundering in his chest, white noise overtaking For Whom the Bell Tolls.

His first kiss.

It’s warm and soft. Drier than he expected it would be. The stubble of Billy’s moustache scrapes against his upper lip, sending shockwaves up and down Eddie’s spine. Billy smells like cologne. Or maybe that’s aftershave—he can’t tell. Eddie fills his lungs with it, breathing deeply through his nose.

The thumb resting against Eddie’s jaw begins stroking along his cheek. Delicately. Like Eddie’s something fragile. Precious, even. He’s gone all tingly everywhere Billy touches him—like magic.

It’s about this time that Billy parts his lips, sliding a tongue along the seam of Eddie’s mouth, gentle prodding—like he’s looking for a weak point. Somewhere to gain entry.

Or maybe he just wanted to taste Eddie’s lips.

Hey, can’t a guy dream?

Billy shifts his weight, further encroaching into Eddie’s personal space, his broad shoulders caging over top of Eddie’s narrower ones. Then Billy raises a leg and swings it over before letting his hips drop over top of Eddie’s own. It’s like touching a fucking live wire. He can’t help the way he reflexively gasps and bucks up into the solid bulk above him. And sweet Jesus Mary and Joseph… he’s rock fucking hard in his jeans. When did that happen?

Flood gates open. Billy—clearly emboldened by the discovery of what he’s doing to Eddie’s body—deepens their kiss by sticking his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The sensation is weird as hell—Eddie’s only ever had his own tongue in his mouth, but there Billy’s is, swirling around, dipping in and out as the sound of their smacking lips fills the van, harmonizing with Hammett‘s insane, face-melting guitar solo.

There are teeth involved now too; Billy’s biting Eddie’s lower lip and pulling, stopping right before it gets painful. It brings sounds out of Eddie that he’d never heard himself make before. Didn’t even know that he could make. All breathy and moany. Maybe he should be embarrassed about how loud he’s progressively getting, but it’s hard to think straight when Billy’s slowly grinding his hips down against his. And Billy’s—fuck, Billy’s hard too. That’s gotta be what that is, right? Jesus H. Christ…

Their hips move in tandem now, the same way their tongues seem to. It’s like Eddie’s body just knows what to do. It’s fucking incredible. He’s never been naturally good at anything in his life. Nothing comes easily to Eddie Munson. Every talent he’s got has been hard-fought, earned through blood, sweat and tears.

But this… Eddie might actually be kinda good at this.

Or maybe Billy’s just a really good teacher.

He’s a cocky asshole, but Eddie fears he might have been serious about everyone else being a letdown after him. Because how the hell is anyone else going to compare to this? To Billy Hargrove. Mr. California King. Eddie could swear he’s glowing right now—like Billy’s spent so much time laid out in the sunlight that a couple of rays got trapped just underneath his skin. Dude can’t help but shine.

Yeah, he’ll be a tough act to follow.

But that’s another Eddie’s problem. Future Eddie. Meanwhile, the here and now Eddie, is getting kissed. He’s got Billy’s big arms wrapped around him, like Eddie’s somehow worth something to someone like him.

Down south, there’s just the right amount of pressure on his denim-trapped dick. He can feel the line of Billy’s own cock bump against his own when he pushes hard enough. He could fucking weep. It’s almost too much—too good. Too perfect. What’s he gonna do with himself now that he knows he could be doing this? God, how’s he ever gonna jerk off when this—when Billy… oh fuck-!

His orgasm hits him like a goddamn freight train. The switch on his brain had gone off and it didn’t even have the courtesy of letting him know!

Eddie’s jaw drops open, mid-kiss, and he pants—moans—into Billy’s mouth. His hips go stiff, stuck in its lifted position, trying to drive upwards into Billy as hard as he can. He can feel himself shake all over as the waves crash over him, one after the other in quick succession, nearly whiting out his vision. He shuts his eyes as he finally comes down on the other side of it, releasing a choked-sounding exhale.

He goes limp. Boneless. Buzzing and tingling and vibrating all over. Waits for the feeling of mortification to overtake him. It should be here in 3… 2…

“Did you just…?” Billy asks, lifting his own hips to examine the scene of the crime. Eddie imagines the wet spot steadily growing on the front of his jeans, a little off to the left, is pretty hard to miss.

“Holy shit, you did,” Billy chuckles, slightly awed sounding, “you just creamed your fuckin’ pants.”

Eddie whimpers. The sharp contrast of absolute bone-deep humiliation paired with the fluttery, intensely content feeling he's still got working its way through his nervous system is enough to make his head spin.

“Sorry.” Eddie blinks his eyes open.

Eddie didn’t think it was possible for Billy to look any more smug than he did before, but somehow, he’s achieving the impossible.

“Don’t be,” Billy insists, a chuckle still at the edge of his words. He grunts a little as he rolls off of Eddie and drops down onto his back. Taking up his previous position of laying shoulder to shoulder next to each other. “I take it as a compliment.”

It’s kinda sweet of him. Because what happened was embarrassing. No two ways about it. Shooting off like that, like Eddie’s some horn dog who can’t control himself?

But, well, if the boot fits…

Billy reaches down and roughly adjusts himself before sitting up. Gentle touches all used up for Eddie, apparently. Then he lifts his ass just enough that he can slide a hand behind him to retrieve a crumpled-looking box of Marlboro reds. Shakily, Eddie sits up too, engaging muscles that still feel jello-like.

Billy knocks out a cigarette and puts it between his lips. Then he knocks out a second one, and without asking, puts it in Eddie’s mouth. Billy leans forward, and Eddie mirrors him—still just trying to keep up—moving until the ends of their cigarettes line up. Billy ignites his lighter, temporarily blinding them both, but he holds it in front of them, and they inhale in tandem.

Smoke fills Eddie’s lungs. The familiar, soothing burn in his throat makes him feel a little more solid. Present. It makes what just happened all the more bewildering.

They smoke in silence.

Well, except for the music from his cassette still humming from the speakers. Billy mumbles something about loving a certain drum solo, but other than that, it’s crickets. It goes on like this until their cigarettes are half their original size and Eddie finally grows a pair.

“What about you?” He murmurs around his dart.

Billy exhales a stream of smoke out of his nose, looking like a sick ass dragon before he answers, “What about me?”

Eddie flicks his chin towards Billy’s general direction. “You wanna get off too?”

Billy just snorts and shakes his head, like Eddie had said something prosperous. “Nah.”

A pit forms in the center of Eddie’s gut. Souring any of the leftover post-nut happy chemicals that were still rolling around his noggin. That sting of rejection. The knowledge that Billy doesn’t actually want someone like Eddie touching him. Like Billy’s itching to go take a shower and wash all the Eddie-cooties off of him, before heading back to his actual life. Like being with Eddie is something embarrassing. It’s a sinking fucking feeling, one he knows no post-high buzz or cigarette is going to touch. Sometimes Eddie forgets that he’s just a detour. Never anyone’s destination point.

“Maybe next time.” Billy mumbles, so low that Eddie almost misses it entirely. He finishes his cigarette before stuffing the butt of it into one of the many makeshift ashtrays Eddie’s got kicking around back here. Then he starts making his way to the back doors, slipping out into the Indiana night.

Next time.

The words echo in Eddie’s head. Bounce off the walls, does couple of cartwheels, spins. The letters get all scrambled up before he’s able to make sense of them.

Next time.

“Pleasure doing business with you, California.” Eddie hollers out a split second before Billy can close the door.

A half-smile forms on that Cupid’s bow-tipped mouth. Pretty as a picture. How did Eddie never notice before? And how’s he supposed to think about anything else?

“See you around, Eddie.” He purrs, knows exactly what he’s doing, Eddie’s sure of it—then slams the door shut between them. He’s engulfed in darkness again. His eyes are back to their unadjusted state, while specks of nothing flit across his blackened vision. He gnaws on his bottom lip to keep the laugh that’s threatening to bubble up from his chest at bay.

Next time.

—

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[meracyn]

i love your writing 💕 can you do my request Kwon x fem reader where they get invited to a party by a karate tournament (not sekai taikai btw) and reader isnt really outgoing (kind of tomboyish/simple) but her friends sam and devon convince her to go and tory is with miyagi do still so they are all at readers house and kwon and reader end up dancing and it leads tk him taking her to his room? Spicy lol and sry if its to long ty if you acdept

ONE DANCE || kwon jae-sung

a/n: tysm anon 🫶 i got a similar request to this lol,, time for another spicy shot guysssss ayeeeeee

warnings: suggestive content ahead, cursing

Parties weren’t really your thing.

The drinking, crowds, fights— it was a pain to deal with.

However, this time was different. After receiving an invitation to a party by the hosts of a local karate tournament, you couldn’t exactly refuse.

Especially since your friends were here, in your apartment, insisting you go—those being Devon, Sam, and Tory.

“You are coming to the party tonight.” Devon declared, giving you a look that made it clear she wasn’t willing to argue.

“No way. I prefer to stay home, thank you.” You groaned out.

“Come on. Get up, get dressed and come have some fun with us.”

Tory and Sam, who were both chilling on the couch, chimed in as well.

“We’ll help you pick something out,” Tory said.

“Yeah,” Sam added. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Besides, you won’t be alone.”

The next thing you knew, you were sitting on the bed, surrounded by clothes that the three of them kept throwing at you. Apparently, your clothes were too ‘simple’, thus not acceptable to wear at a party.

“Why can’t I wear jeans and a top?” You asked, picking up a red shirt from the pile.

“Too plain.”

“Boring.”

“Not slutty enough.”

“Damn.” You replied, feeling defensive at their immediate answers. “Am I supposed to be sorry for not trying to get knocked up at my age?”

“Nope.” Devon piped up, before holding up a black dress. “This is the one.”

“It literally screams ‘bend me over’.” You said, yanking it out of her grasp. “How the hell did this get into my clothes?”

Tory raised an eyebrow, “You sure you didn’t buy it?”

You shook your head in response before turning back to Devon. “It’s a bit too much..right?”

“Not at all,” She grinned, “Trust me, you’ll look amazing in this.”

“She’s right. Who knows, you might meet someone suited for you.” Sam spoke up with an encouraging smile.

Tory nudged you on the shoulder, agreeing with Sam.

“I...” You trailed off, before giving in. “Fine. I’ll wear it.”

Devon clapped her hands in excitement, “Great! Now, let’s get you ready!”

By the time you arrived, you were already getting second thoughts about accepting.

The place was buzzing with people, the music so loud you could barely hear what your friends were saying. Devon led the way, holding your hand as she dragged you into the middle of the crowd, Sam and Tory in tow as they laughed along.

“Just relax, it’s going to be fun.” Sam reassured as she handed you a drink.

Devon excused herself to go talk to Kenny, leaving the three of you alone. Even though you were engaged in their conversation, it wasn’t long until your attention started to drift.

And there he was—Kwon Jae-Sung. Leaning against the bar, watching you with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. As your eyes met, he smirked. The way his gaze lingered on you was intriguing.

You recalled a few times where his touch would linger on you a little too long, to glances and flirty remarks, the energy thick with undeniable need. The thought of it only made you get embarrassed.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath as you averted your gaze immediately, cheeks turning red.

Tory noticed your actions, looking over and spotting Kwon. “Seems like someone got caught.”

Sam chuckled, leaning over, “Go for it. You got this.” Placing her hand on your back, she gently pushed you forward before they both walked away to let you have your moment.

Great. You thought. "You won’t be alone," they said.

You tried to ignore it, but as he took a step forward, moving through the crowd towards you, your heart rate sped up.

“Hey,” Kwon’s voice was smooth, a small smile forming on his face,

“Care to dance?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. What?

Looking up, you noticed there was something about the way he looked at you– as if some sort of hidden intention, though you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Uh..” You trailed off before nodding. “Sure.”

Kwon held your hand in his, leading you to the center of the room. His hands slid down to rest on your waist, pulling you close against him, his touch firm. You could feel the heat of his body on yours.

The beat of the music slowed, giving Kwon the chance to pull you even closer until there was barely any space between you both. He leaned down, his lips slightly brushing against your ear.

“Trying to be a slut for all the guys here?” he asked, breath warm against your skin. His comment made your face heat up as you struggled to come up with a reply. Then, you felt his index finger trace your dress’ zipper down until your lower back.

You expected him to pull away, but he remained his touch on your dress. Kwon looked up, gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes. For a moment, you forgot about everything else, tranced under the look of his eyes. But before the tension could build any further, Kwon pulled back slightly.

“Come with me,” he said lowly.

You nodded without thinking as he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the party, the cool night air hitting your skin as you stepped into the empty street. The city was quiet, the loud noise of the party fading away as you both walked down the alley.

Once arriving at his room, Kwon shut the door with a soft click, dark eyes kept on your figure as you walked forward. Kwon stepped up to you from behind, hand reaching out to trace the neckline of your dress, keeping his touch light, yet sent shivers down your spine.

“Tell me when it’s too much.” He murmured, as his fingers slowly pulled down the zipper of your dress. Your dress came undone, and began to slip off your shoulders. Kwon’s hands caressed your skin, pressing soft kisses down your neck as he pushed down the garment until it fell on the ground, leaving you almost exposed entirely to him. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

Kwon reached up, his hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want to hear every little sound you make, princess. Can you do that for me? hm?”

Without giving you a chance to speak, he leaned in and kissed you– like a soft, tantalizing burn. Soon, he lifted you up in his arms, carrying you over to his bed. Gently laying you down, his eyes never left yours as he took off his shirt, leaving you to see his toned chest.

“By the end of tonight, you’ll be mine only. ‘til then, focus on me.”

[jet-apologistmybadhomies]

complaining about viv ships will be mostly my opinion because i dont have much energy to make five essays on what issue each ship has (i will if someone is THAT interested tho)

[so i suppose i need to say that yall are allowed to ship what u want. i just wanna talk about how vivzipop fails to make me like any romance she has written which is very hard to do because i absolutely love ships even if they're not that deep or well written ]

so..

who told vivzipop she could write relationships.. because she REALLY REALLY cant.

the only ship thats fine rn is m&m and we know what issues that has (Millie even tho its slowing being fixed but lets not ignore that dumb camp episode)

Angel dust and husk.. i like but not because they're good but because i made up a version in my head

like lets make a quick count of the ships

Charlie and vaggie are the most boring couple i have ever seen to the point i wont even bother talking about how vaggies whole ' whats the point if i cant help her' stuff they have going on

vortex and Beelzebub have the biggest issue of power equality to the point that Beelzebub is literally involved in the horrible treatment houndogs get making them the real "oppressor + oppressed" ship

ozzie and fizz talk to each other really weird and treat fizz like hes a baby and they generally have this very 2020 yaoi vibe with yes some good moments that i sadly have to ignore because Everytime they're on screen i cringe.. and guys i. dont. cringe. u really have to try HARD to get me to cringe

bilz and stolas have so much potential but that dumb childhood episode ruined it. they tried to make it unproblematic and took all the stuff that made it so interesting out so instead of two characters changing to make their toxic relationship work its well Kdrama (tho that gets me more invested that this ship) and that's ignoring the whole 'blitz is the bad guy" bs

cherry and pentious? acutally they're okay but they literally have like two episodes that is just him trying and failing to flirt which would have been cute but he died like so quickly after ..

ig vox and val are there.

any other ship i can literally not remember

[foxmulderautism]

this next lover boy scene is so scary cause it's featuring a character i've never actually written before just thought about intently as part of the story i have thought about intently and the only time he has come up is when i impulsively created him for a paragraph that's not even in the book anymore but got like 70 notes on here for some reason. like who knows how this will go

[scoliosisgoblin]

Which version of Rick is your fav?

it's so hard for me to choose tbh. HOWEVER, I'd say Evil Rick

then I'd say it's C-137 and Memory Rick

I love how pathetic™ Evil Rick really is tbh. love that he's being controlled by his Morty. can you guess who my favorite Morty is?

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment

[sqlmn]

Art I did during my break but don't wanna post on main but you know what. I like Levi and Richard (and Arienne the redhead).

Basically, Levi and Richard go to school together, Richard decides to go by the name Richard and the only person to without question go along with "I'm a boy now" is Levi who calls him Dick. And then gets into fist fights with boys that don't call him Richard. So Richard falls pretty much in love in school then his parents divorce and he moves away.

Many years later (10+) Richard meets Levi again and it's very much nothing grand. Levi overhears Richard introducing himself to someone and is like "lmao Dick? You work here now? Sucks to be you" and Richard is immediately 'I love him so much I hate myself for how easily I give up all dignity for him' but yeah. They work in different departments so Levi does more behind the scenes stuff while Richard talks to clients and is very social.

And their coworkers in both departments love Richard because he's such a nice guy and Levi's department hates Levi a lot cause he's an asshole. (then stuff happens that would require a tw blah blah blah) So after a month of Levi not being at work he returns and Richard immediately goes over to the department to check on him and he's just. Incredibly mellow. No cussing and no cockiness and worst of all, he's being called Richard which is very much not correct from Levi. So he points it out that no one else calls him Dick and if he had a problem with it he would have said something by now so hey, maybe don't suddenly change the entire friendship on your own. (So Levi texts him later to say "sorry for being a dick, Dick" and Richard is v happy and content with that turn out)

Richard is honestly tragically created out of spite for the fact I saw a name IRL and I know that the state that I live in would in fact NOT have someone that intentionally funny and trans so I have to make my own funny trans guy to fill the void.

[starlooove]

What I really like about Damian is that instead of one big interconnected friend group he has many separate friends idk it’s cute it’s different

[thetimelordbatgirl]

New school attendance rules (that are stupid as fuck) being published has me learning people didn't even know that the UK fines people for their kids not being in school unauthorized???