#like hell i can label whatever the fuck they have going on

[ratatatastic]

"😄" "(pointed hard celly bump to mikksy despite it being a gadjo eng) 😀" "😶"

florida panthers @ la kings (quebec city) | 10.5.24

[mars-ipan]

this is gonna sound incredibly virtue signal-y i fear but i have been feeling. so fiercely protective of all the transfems i've ever met lately

[moonyflesh]

dating Logan Howlett would include…

WARNINGS: smutty. p in v, oral sex, fingering, breeding kink, orgasm teasing/control, mentions of aggressive/risky sex, (language, obviously), etc. - [🔞]

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (MARVEL/X-MEN/WOLVERINE)

🐾 .*.. 🩹

- possessive smacks on the ass when you pass him in the hall.

- all talk, but no bite (he would never actually hurt you).

- routine scalp massages (on both ends), usually ending in you both being passed out on the other’s bed.

- having to label what food is yours, or he will eat it.

- constantly scolding him for his chapped lips…where he continuously looses the chapsticks you graciously lend him (he always buys you more).

- playful banter that usually ends with you bent over whatever flat surface is nearby.

- having to get used to loud chewing. i mean, it’s Logan. what do you expect?

- not much physical show of affection in public- that’s reserved for behind closed doors. (an occasional press of his lips to your forehead, or his hand on the small of your back is as far as he’s willing to put on display for the student’s prying eyes).

- thriving off of each other’s warmth at night- tangled up in each other under some thin duvet.

- country, bluegrass, and old as fuck music. don’t you dare even think about turning on “that shitty music you like so much” around him.

- being turned on by your makeup on him in some way— lipstick prints smeared along the collar of his white t-shirt- your mascara running down your face and smearing onto his fingers when he wipes it off.

- (^) just you making an absolute mess on him in general. he fucking loves it.

- needing to take sharp intakes of breath in between his kisses, since he physically can hold his breath for much longer than the “average mutant”.

- rough, meaningful sex. there is no such thing as a ‘quickie’ in his book. he wants to savor your moments of vulnerability.

- more teeth than tongue. he wants to feel how you squirm under him when his canines sink into your lips, shoulders, and inner thighs.

- (^) lovebites and hickeys. you’re not allowed to leave the house unless there’s something that’s marking you as taken. as his.

- wearing his clothes when he’s gone for long periods of time.

- long motorcycle rides, usually at night. (he makes you wear a helmet and plenty of protective leather, much to his enjoyment).

- soaking in your scent. he always knows when your needy. he can smell it on you.

- oh, and he smells like cedar wood and pine. Maybe a bit of cigar smoke- his natural sweat smell he can’t seem to get rid of? Something Iike that.

- (^) him going absolutely feral when he can smell himself on you- his cologne, cigars- just his general aura on you is such a massive turn on for him.

- lots of loving nips and kisses, though. constantly has his lips pressed against the nape of your neck or crown of your skull.

- sleeps with you in his arms. no way in hell you’re allowed to wake up before him.

- face sitting. he wants every pound of you on his mouth and nose, his arms wrapped up and around your thighs, pushing your cunt into his tongue.

- wanting to feel good too. no matter how hard he’s been going down on you, he wants release, too.

- praise. lots of shrewd language and name-calling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“fuck, that’s my good fucking girl- you’re doing so good, sweetheart- so pretty all sweaty and wet cuzzah’ me, huh?”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

- face fucking. he’ll stop no matter how close he is to his peak if you need him to, but he wants it so far down your throat. and you better swallow every last drop.

- breeding kink? idk i just feel like he’s super into seeing you carry his kid (only when you’re ready, though. he of all people knows what a big deal pregnancy is).

- decent aftercare. he at least puts some amount of effort into it; probably brings you a glass of lukewarm water, a damp towel from his bathroom, maybe one of his t-shirts if he thinks of it.

- expect to wait a while for him to say “i love you” back. he’s been hurt. too many times. he loves you, he breathes you, he craves you. he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to actually admit that to himself yet, let alone to you.

[urfavfrenchgrl]

fuck you

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2.7k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI ᥫ᭡ summary: After a pointless argument, you gave in, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Your feet carried you swiftly back to the castle, anger and frustration pulsing through your veins. You rushed to your dorm, hoping the solitude of the bathroom would calm you. You needed to be away from him, away from the whirlwind of emotions he stirred up in you.

Mattheo and you hadn’t put a label on whatever it was between you. Some days you yelled at each other, while others were spent tangled in the sheets. This time, it had been the first option. A ridiculous argument spiraled out of control, leading to your storming off, promising yourself you'd never speak to him again.

"Stupid bastard..." you muttered, stripping off your clothes. The argument echoed in your mind. You tossed your clothes into the corner and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water might ease the storm raging inside you.

As the scalding water cascaded over your skin, you tried to relax, but your body remained tense, the frustration refusing to wash away. Your mind kept replaying the argument, but beneath the anger, there was something else—a tension you couldn't ignore. You were still thinking about him.

Mattheo had always been a storm in your life, unpredictable and dangerous. Suddenly, the sound of a knock startled you out of your thoughts. You turned off the water, frowning, listening. The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

"Y/N?" Mattheo’s voice, softer now, cut through the door. There was a hint of desperation there, something raw. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he needed you, craved your presence even when all you did was fight.

"I’m sorry, okay?" His voice was rough, but there was a vulnerability to it now. "I didn’t mean to lose it. Can we just… talk?"

Your heart clenched, but your pride held firm. You ignored him, wrapping a towel around your body and retreating to the edge of the tub. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, not this time.

"Please," Mattheo’s voice cracked, more desperate now. "I’m fucking sorry. Just open the door. You know I don’t mean half the shit I say."

Your jaw clenched. You weren’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. Instead, you started brushing your hair, trying to focus on anything other than his pleading tone on the other side of the door.

The silence stretched, but you knew Mattheo wasn’t going to back down that easily. He never did.

Then his tone changed. It was darker now, authoritative. "I’m counting to ten, Y/N. If you don’t open this door, I’ll break it down, and you’ll have to talk to me whether you like it or not."

Your breath hitched. He wouldn’t. Or would he?

He started counting. "One… two…" His knocks grew louder, and your heartbeat quickened with each number. "Nine… ten."

With a crash, the door burst open. You gasped, clutching your towel tightly as Mattheo stormed in, his eyes wild with anger, frustration—and something else. His gaze locked on you, taking in the sight of you standing there, wet and vulnerable.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" you yelled, your heart racing.

His lips twisted into a grin, but his eyes were sharp, focused. "You’ve always known I’m fucking crazy, Y/N. So why do you act like it surprises you?"

"Go to hell!" you snapped, the anger boiling over again.

He moved closer, his presence overwhelming as he stared you down, and you could feel the heat between you rising again. "Oh, or fuck me, right? Isn’t that what you always say? Maybe I should fuck yourself instead." His tone was dripping with sarcasm, but beneath it, you could sense the desire that was building.

"You’re such an asshole!" you shot back, not backing down. But your voice was shaking now, the tension between you more than just anger.

The argument was a smokescreen for what had always been brewing between you. Mattheo’s jealousy was flaring, but so was his possessiveness. He couldn’t stand the idea of you walking away. 

He hesitated for a second, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and lust, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the bed. His grip was firm but not painful, the air between you charged with an intensity that left you breathless.

"What does this feel like, huh?" he growled, pushing you down onto the mattress, holding your wrists. His face hovered close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. "You really want to push me? You really want to see how much of an asshole I can be?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t look away, didn’t back down. "Fuck. You. Riddle."

His eyes darkened with something primal, and a wicked smile curled at the corner of his lips. "No, baby. Fuck you, Y/N."

And before you could say anything, his mouth crashed onto yours. The kiss was hard, demanding, a collision of need and frustration. It was a battle for control, and neither of you was willing to lose.

He kissed you harder, biting down on your lip, pulling a gasp from you as his hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly. His touch was rough, unrelenting, as if trying to prove a point. He needed to remind you that no one could make you feel the way he did. No one could match this fire between you.

Mattheo’s mind was racing. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe it was because you drove him insane, testing his limits, making him burn with a desire he couldn’t control. 

Mattheo gritted his teeth, the intensity between you unbearable. He couldn’t take it any longer. His eyes locked onto the towel wrapped tightly around your body, and without hesitation, he yanked it away, tossing it carelessly to the side. His gaze darkened as he took in every inch of your exposed skin, his breath catching for a moment. His eyes raked over your body, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

He stood there for a second, savoring the sight before him, as if committing every curve to memory. "Fuck, you’re perfect," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and filled with want. 

Then, with an intensity that made your heart race, he leaned down and began kissing you, starting at your neck, his lips trailing over your collarbone, then moving lower. He kissed every inch of skin he could reach, worshiping your body with every heated press of his mouth. His hands followed his lips, exploring, gripping, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you beneath him.

His mouth eventually found its way to your breasts, and without warning, he took one of your nipples between his lips, sucking hard. You gasped, your body arching into him, your fingers digging into his hair as he switched to the other, giving it the same torturous attention. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, pulling a whimper from you as the sensation shot through your body.

"Already so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance as his hand slid lower, cupping your wetness. He smirked against your skin, his fingers teasing, moving just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you the release you craved.

His lips found yours again, shutting you up and he kissed you hard, his fingers continuing to torment you, brushing lightly against your folds, teasing your entrance but never quite giving you what you wanted. The anticipation was unbearable, your body aching for more, for him. Here’s the same section with a little more detail:

"Are you satisfied now, Y/N?" Mattheo’s breath came out heavier, his voice laced with desire as he leaned closer, his eyes dark with hunger. “Pushing me to my fucking limit.”

You could feel the heat between you, the undeniable pull of your bodies. The way his chest heaved, the tension in his muscles—he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. The air was thick with anticipation.

Without thinking, you pulled him in, kissing him harder, your lips crashing into his. You could feel his need, feel him throbbing against you. Between heated breaths, you whispered against his mouth, "Shut up… and just do it."

And then, without warning, he pushed his finger inside you, rough and deliberate. You gasped against his lips, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you hard. He watched you, smirking as he saw the way you reacted to him, the power he had over you only fueling his desire.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, thrusting his finger deeper, rougher, as your body responded instinctively to his touch. "Look at the mess you’re making.. Such a beautiful mess," he murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. He added one finger and thrusted deeper, rougher, feeling the way your body clenched around him.

You moaned, your hips moving in time with his hand, craving more, even as your mind screamed at you to resist.

"Fuck, Y/N..." he growled, his erection pressing hard against your thigh. He could feel your need, just as desperate as his own, and it only fueled him further.

Without warning, he slid a second finger inside you, his touch rough, determined. "You’re fucking perfect," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "All mine, and you fucking know it."

Your mind was spinning, lost in the intensity of the moment. You were his, body and soul, and deep down, you both knew it.

Mattheo pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the loss and wanting more.

With a casual motion, he unbuckled his belt, his gaze never leaving yours as he pulled down his trousers, freeing his erection. The air between you was charged, heavy with lust and anticipation.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice thick with impatience, his eyes dark with desire.

You nodded, breathless, barely able to respond, your body already aching for him.

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. He positioned himself above you, gripping your hips firmly as he slid into you, slow at first, as if savoring every second. You moaned, feeling the way he filled you, your body stretching to accommodate him. But the gentleness didn’t last. Without warning, he began thrusting hard and fast, the force of his movements pulling a cry of pleasure from your lips.

The intensity was overwhelming. You had never felt anything like this before, the way your bodies moved together, perfectly in sync. It was as if you were made for each other. No one else had ever made you feel this way.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Y/N,” he groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he drove into you harder, faster. His eyes were wild with lust, his teeth gritted as he fought to keep control.

One of his hands slid up to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send a shiver of excitement through you. His thrusts grew more urgent, more desperate, as the tension between you built to a fever pitch.

Mattheo was rough, but you loved it. Every brutal thrust, every growl of pleasure, only made you want him more. You dragged your fingers down his chest, tracing over the scars that marked his skin, a reminder of everything he had endured. The sight of them stirred something deep inside you—a mixture of sadness and fierce desire.

He groaned, his teeth catching your lower lip as his hands moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. "Fuck yes. Just the way you like it," he growled, his voice low and raw as he kissed your neck, biting down gently.

A moan escaped you, your body arching into him, your nails digging into his skin. "Is this what you want, baby?" he whispered darkly in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You want to be filled by a fucking asshole?"

Before you could respond, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your stomach with a swift, rough motion. You barely had time to catch your breath before he positioned himself behind you, his hand landing on your ass with a sharp slap that made you gasp. And then he was inside you again, thrusting deeper and harder than before, pushing you to the edge of what you could take.

Each thrust was more brutal than the last, driving you closer to the brink of pleasure. You were trembling beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

Mattheo pulled back, and for a brief moment, you felt the loss of him. Then, without warning, he slapped your ass again before plunging back inside you, harder, deeper than before. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he fucked you relentlessly.

"You’re so fucking perfect for me, Y/N," he growled, his breath ragged as he thrust into you again and again. "When are you going to realize that?"

There was a moment, in the heat of it all, where you almost told him. Almost confessed how much you needed him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Mattheo’s gaze darkened with a new intensity. Without breaking rhythm, he pulled out of you, flipping you onto your back. His hands gripped your thighs as he hoisted your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself to go deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his expression full of raw hunger and desire.

"I want to watch you come undone," he growled, his voice thick with lust, "I want to see you when I make you lose it."

Before you could respond, he plunged back inside you, thrusting deeper than before, hitting a spot that made your whole body arch off the bed. A loud moan escaped your lips as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours, your legs trembling from the intensity.

"You feel so fucking good on my cock," he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he drove into you harder. "Look at me, Y/N. I want to see you fall apart on me."

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, and the intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with every thrust, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Mattheo… I can’t… I’m so close…" you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as your body tensed beneath him.

He grinned, his eyes blazing with satisfaction. "Then be a good girl and come for me, baby. Let me feel you tighten around me."

With one final, deep thrust, the tension inside you snapped, and you cried out his name as your orgasm tore through you. Your entire body shuddered as the pleasure consumed you, your legs trembling on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, watching your face as you came undone beneath him, the sight pushing him to the edge. "Fuck… Y/N… you’re so tight," he gritted through his teeth, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

As you clenched around him, Mattheo’s grip on your thighs tightened, and with a guttural moan, he came, his release hitting hard as he buried himself deep inside you. His body trembled with the force of his orgasm, his eyes never leaving yours as he rode out the final waves of pleasure.

You both stayed like that for a moment, breathless, your bodies trembling from the intensity. Slowly, Mattheo lowered your legs, releasing them from his shoulders, and collapsed next to you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, that cocky smile spreading across his face as he glanced over at you. "Such a good fucking girl.."

You let out a breathless laugh, rolling your eyes at his arrogance. "Oh shut up.." you muttered, your voice weak and hoarse, still trembling from the intensity of your release.

Mattheo chuckled, his grin widening as he looked at you, pride and satisfaction in his expression. "Make me," he teased, his voice full of that insufferable, arrogant confidence as he pulled you close.

[thesoftestpunk]

I want you, Baby I need you

Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/

Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!

Main Masterlist

Pt.2

“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”

“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 

“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”

Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 

“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 

You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.

Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 

“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 

Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 

You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 

“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 

“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”

“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 

“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 

Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 

“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 

Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”

“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 

“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 

You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 

You’re starting to like Eddie.

“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”

“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”

“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 

She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 

“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”

“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”

“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.

“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”

“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”

“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 

“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 

You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 

“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”

“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 

“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 

You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 

Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 

The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 

“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”

“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”

“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 

“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”

“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 

Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 

“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”

The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 

“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 

Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 

“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 

You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.

Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 

You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.

You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 

His little sheepies. Which means… 

Fuck. 

Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 

“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”

“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 

All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 

“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”

“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”

“Bitchy?”

That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 

“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.

“I thought it was locked after hours.” 

You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”

“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 

You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 

“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 

“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 

“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”

“Christina wasn’t far off.” 

The admission bounces around as you look at him.

“Eddie…”

“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”

“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 

“So don’t you have us much say as her?”

“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 

“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 

“You’ve read…?”

“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”

Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 

“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.

“Campaign…?” 

“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 

“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 

“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”

“Wait. Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 

“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”

“Right, I’ll uh…”

“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 

Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 

“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.

“You’re gonna regret that!” 

You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 

“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 

“You cheated.” 

“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 

He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 

“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 

Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 

“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 

“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”

Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 

“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”

“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.

“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”

“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”

“Do not make me regret this.” 

You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 

“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.

“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”

“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”

“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”

It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.

You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 

“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 

He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.

“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”

“Have what?”

Shit. You were too vague.

“A crush, dummy.” 

Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 

“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 

“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 

Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.

“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”

“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.

Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”

“So will you!”

“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.

“Fine.”

Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.

“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.

Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.

[bkd-b3ans]

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

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

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

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

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

[solarmorrigan]

The Pumpkin (Spice) King

For the @steddie-spooktober day 24 prompt: Pumpkin Rated: T | Words: 945 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, this is very silly, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The clues had been there all along. Eddie should have paid more attention.

It starts with the candle.

“Why does it smell like a craft store in here?” Eddie asks the moment the apartment door has closed behind him.

Steve, half engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone, shoots Eddie a quick, puzzled look. “What?”

“Like cinnamon sugar and spices. Fake fall.” Eddie sniffs the room speculatively. “This is what craft stores smell like every year from September to January.”

“Oh.” Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘fake fall,’ it’s just the candle I have burning.”

Now that Steve’s mentioned it, Eddie spots the candle on the table, one of the ones you get in a fancy-looking glass jar, the label of which proclaims the scent to be–

“Pumpkin spice?” Eddie utters, nose wrinkled.

“You got a problem with pumpkin spice?” Steve asks.

“It’s–” Eddie starts, then takes in Steve’s single raised eyebrow, registers the catty lilt to his tone, and changes tracks, “–barely September.”

If anything, Steve’s eyebrows get more judgmental, but he looks back to his phone, apparently dismissing Eddie as a threat to his fun, fall-scented good time. “They start selling these things in August," he says. “You should appreciate my restraint.”

“Riiight,” Eddie drawls, deciding to adjourn to the bedroom and leave the living room to Steve and his mass-produced miasma of imitation autumn.

Of course, it doesn’t end there.

Eddie barely notices in time, reaching for the pump of the hand soap by the kitchen sink and stopping just short of using it when the colors register. It isn’t the usual bland bottle with its inoffensive citrus and herb scent, but something brightly-colored, all orange and shiny silver. There are little wheat sheaves and pumpkins on the label, and the scent is, of course–

“Fucking pumpkin spice,” Eddie mutters.

Fine, okay, so there must have been some kind of sale at fucking– Bath and Body Works, or wherever the hell it is that sells this stuff, and Steve had temporarily lost his mind. Or something. Whatever.

Steve can go around smelling like something that wishes it could be cinnamon all he likes, but Eddie will not be joining him. He uses the dish soap to wash his hands instead. His eczema will not thank him later, but he thinks it’s a fair price to pay for his continued dignity.

(And if Steve eyes Eddie’s reddened, peeling knuckles later in the week, and the lemon herb soap reappears next to the pumpkin spice soap, well – that’s close enough to a win that Eddie will take it.)

Then there’s the coffee.

This one is technically the final nail in the coffin, but it takes a bit to really dawn on Eddie. He maintains that he had been understandably distracted at the time – largely because he only finds this one out by drawing the taste straight from Steve’s mouth.

It isn’t unusual for Steve to have been up and about for an hour or two (or three) before Eddie rolls out of bed on his days off; Eddie prefers to keep late hours, and Steve, as much as Eddie loves him, is a morning person. This had caused some friction when they’d first started living together, but it’s been nearly a year now, and they’ve managed to work it out. Often, their first kiss of the day tastes like whatever coffee Steve’s already been drinking.

It’s different today, though. Sweeter than usual.

Eddie hums, licking deeper into Steve’s mouth, trying to place the difference, and Steve groans, tugging Eddie closer by the hips, mistaking his curiosity for passion (and, well – it’s not not passion. Eddie can multitask).

“What’ve you been drinking?” Eddie finally asks when they pull apart.

“Pumpkin spice latte,” Steve answers, and then gives Eddie absolutely no chance to process this information, pulling him back in for another deep kiss.

It’s only later, back in bed when Eddie had barely even been out of it for half an hour, that Eddie has to admit to himself: his boyfriend is a pumpkin spice girl.

And that’s fine! Eddie can be mature about this!

Sure, it’s the sort of thing he’d sneered at back in high school—the conformity of the masses flocking to whatever seasonally-scented item corporations are hocking at the time—but he’s grown up since then. Someone’s preference for a certain flavor or scent doesn’t determine their worth as a person, et cetera, et cetera. Eddie knows this.

But still, he’s only human. He does have a breaking point.

“Oh, baby, no.”

“What?” Steve pulls his head out of the fridge, where he’s been putting the cold stuff away as Eddie unloads the grocery bags destined for the pantry.

Eddie holds up the offending item – possibly the most offending item he’s ever seen.

Pumpkin spice candy corn.

Steve blinks at him. “What?” he asks again after a long moment of loaded silence.

“Oh god, it’s already infected your brain,” Eddie laments, dropping the bag of candy on the counter and reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Robin, we’re staging an intervention.”

“Oh come on, what? They’re good!” Steve insists.

“Objectively, sweetheart, they really aren’t. But don’t you worry,” he leans over and pats Steve on the arm as he searches for Robin’s number in his contact list, “we’re gonna save you from yourself.”

(Later, of course, he’ll find out that Robin has already tried to break Steve of his tendency to buy anything labeled with “pumpkin spice.” His love of the stuff is ironclad. She tells Eddie that he’d better learn to enjoy the taste, or else give up making out with his boyfriend until Thanksgiving.)

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆☀︎｡Smile Back ... At Me ⏾⋆.˚

Grumpy!Vessel x Sunshine!Reader

grumpy/sunshine, sickfic, housemates, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff goes smut

a/n: there's easter eggs in here for three people 🧍🏻‍♀️

Taglist (that I decided I have now): @inv3ga

“No no no. Don’t do this. Please. Please!” Vessel was distraught. Panicked. Verging on crisis. He stared at himself in the mirror, white knuckling the vanity. “Get it together, Ves. Don’t…don’t.” His breath was ragged…”fuuuuuck...”

How many sneezes in a row was that? 5? Oh…oh they’re still going. You knock on the bathroom door softly. Vessel rips the door open with a scowl, his nose and eyes red from whatever irritant deigned to infect your intrepid workaholic housemate. 

“What?” He asks, deadpan.

“I heard you sneeze like…8 times in a row. That’s concerning.”

“Yes. Thank you, doctor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get cleaned up and go to work.” He looks you up and down. “Think you ought to do the same?”

You look down for a second at your pjs and gasp. Work? “Oh shit! I…hey… wait a minute!” Vessel just titters as he splashes some water on his face. “It’s my day off!” Again, he chuckles and pushes past you. “You know for someone so crotchety with me you sure know a lot about my schedule!” But he’s already down the hall. Of the housemates, Ves was the one you had the least positive interactions with…and yet…you saw each other the most. It just worked out that way with your schedules. Ves could go to the studio or work from home at will, and you seemed always to be home at the same time. 

“You’ve done this on purpose. To torment me.” Ves said once as his phone buzzed incessantly with notifications as you input your schedule in the shared housemate calendar. And, in your endlessly witty, carefree way, you responded “Aw Ves, finally you’re noticing all I do for you!” For the record, Vessel doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone. No. He’s just a little brusque. And short tempered. And he just likes things done a certain way, ok? You, on the other hand, seem too happy to be here. What are you plotting, he wonders sometimes. 

But today those thoughts are dulled by a throbbing pain behind his eye and the annoying feeling of his nose leaking at any moment. By 2:30, he’s ready for a 20 year long nap. He rubs his face in agony as he sits at the control panel. Usually the studio is a reprieve but one of his worst nightmares is unfolding. He’s sick. He has a cold. A sinus infection? Christ…the flu? He has to push through. He has to see this day to the end and finish this…”fuck it I’m done. I’m going home.”

“Literally just asked how the cymbals sounded, man. For fuck’s sake.” Even poor ii wasn’t safe from Vessel’s sick tirade. The two share a silent look of “the hell is wrong with you/me?” 

“Sorry mate,” Vessel rubs his temples and sniffs. “Uhm…yeah…there could be more…definition or whatever. I’ll see you lot later.” Vessel sulks out of the studio and towards the bus stop. If this was a comic strip, he’d be kicking a can with little fumes over his head. Vessel hates getting sick. It throws off his groove. Makes him unproductive. He’s no stranger to powering through but it doesn’t seem worth it this time around. This makes him feel weak. Like once he gets better he’ll need to work 10x harder just to make up for his time off. Make it up for who? Well…the label, for one thing. And ii. Part of his brain says “it’s only for yourself,” but he pushes that aside. Yeah he’s proud but he still needs to prove to everyone else he’s fine. He can manage. Hasn’t he always landed on his feet? Looking out the bus window at the passing houses and buildings doesn’t provide any distraction—just more fodder for his migraine. As Vessel rests his temple against the window, his phone vibrates, but he ignores it. Whatever it is couldn’t make him feel any worse...oh but he was wrong. So very wrong.

You: I’m sure you saw this on the calendar but it’s just us for the weekend. Are you still feeling sick? Want me to get some soup? Let me know. :)

You’re not surprised Vessel doesn’t reply to you. He’s at work and, well, you’re you. As you’re about to text him again, because you reaaaaalllllly want to get a jump on ordering food, he comes through the front door. “Tsk, you look miserable.”

Vessel so badly wants to be snarky. To tell you what an astute observation you’ve made. “I am…where is everyone?” You look at him a bit quizzically and tell you texted him…and that their trip was on the calendar, etc etc. Oh the defeated sigh he lets out! The misery of being cooped up with someone so chronically pleasant might do his head in if this migraine doesn’t first. And maybe it wasn’t your best idea to follow him to his room to ask if he needed or wanted anything, if he was hungry, did he have a fever, can you do— “Have you considered leaving me alone? You’re not my mum and you’re definitely not my girlfriend! Can take care of myself just fine without you flitting about trying to fix everyone’s problems…maybe you should...” He stops himself and rubs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “Fuck it. It’s not worth what little energy I have. Let me know what takeaway you’re thinking.” He shuts the door and leaves you in the hall. Was he suggesting that you spend more time on others than yourself? How dare he? How dare he be right and sound mean about it. But you don’t pout long because he opens the door again, but this time his shirt is off. Your eyes trace the curve of his shoulders…down to the ridges of his chest and abs. Close enough to touch. ‘Stop…he’s sick. And your roommate.’ He sniffs hard. He’s so stopped up. “I…should not be like that. I’m sorry. Pizza?” You look away, feeling shitty after overstepping…he must be really sick if you got an immediate apology. 

“Don’t you think something like soup or…you know what? We’ll do whatever you want.” That elicits a soft smile from him...with teeth no less.. Wait…”you just smiled at me. An honest to god smile...Ves…”

“Oh, sh-shut up.”

After dinner Vessel feels…weird. His head and body hurts…he can’t even think straight. And you notice. He can barely stay awake but there’s no way he’d be comfy on the couch. His long legs…you imagine him trying to curl up and get comfortable like a big dog on a tiny bed. You take a chance and put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you get in bed.” He sighs heavily like you asked him to give up music. “Is it really this hard to accept some kindness?” Apparently that was a shit question because he huffs and takes himself to bed. Fine. Maybe you should leave it alone but damnit he needs help…and attention. You come into his room with your arms full.

“What are you…” But you cut him off by dumping a big blue quilt on him.

“I always always always sweat shit out with this quilt.”

“I don’t have a fever.”

“Oh well, it’ll make you feel better. And…alsooooooo…” you hand him a stuffed puppy with floppy ears and a dumb, goofy look stitched on his face. “Just give him a squeeze.” Vessel looks at the stuffed dog and the quilt but can’t seem to look at you. If anything he’s looking down and past your feet.

“As persistent as my cold, you know that?” 

“You deserve a break. Let me know if you need something…you know where I am.”

“H-hey…wait…” You look back at him, and it’s as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. Did he ever know in the first place? All he knows is that any breath he takes after this night is for something beyond the music. Beyond himself, even though his efforts there are questionable. “Sit with me…for a bit?”

And you did. All night. Waking up next to him hugging your stuffed dog under your “sick day” quilt was such a sight. His eyebrows knit together like he was thinking. It must have been a fever dream, you think, as he groans softly and clutches the dog closer. You want to reach out, move the hair off his brow, feel if he has a fever…caress him. But you have to at least act like you know better. When he blinks awake he gives a lazy smile.

“You shouldn’t have stayed in here. What if you get sick?”

“I could deal.”

“Hm. Maybe you’d accept some kindness in return?”

After his cold finally fucks off, Vessel looks at you differently. Not necessarily because you did something for him. No. There was something different. After he snapped at you, and then later after you two had a long conversation about nothing before he drifted off, Vessel noticed something behind your eyes. God, those eyes. His walls came down. He was defenseless. It’s not like you’re best friends now or anything, but he felt moved to treat you gently. Hell, to smile back at the very least. 

Late one night, long after everyone went to bed, Ves notices your bedroom light is still on. “What am I doing?” He whispers to himself, but apparently too loudly because soon you’re opening your door.

“Oh thank fuck it’s you. Thought I was hearing things.”

“Jus’ me…I…why are you up? It’s 1:30.” You shrug. There’s that look again. He has to dig. He has to pry just a little. Just like you had with him. “Can I come in?”

You nod and let him in, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He sees your laptop out and wants to ask what you were up to, but you quickly put it away. “Better question is why you’re awake, Ves.”

He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “So no one has a good excuse, hm?”

“Hm.” You tease back, gently pinching his arm. He looks down at your fingers on him and his heart flutters. Ves lets his gaze drift slowly up your body…taking in every curve and slight movement before resting on your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“W-w-what…? What are y-?” You try to act nonchalant. 

“Can just tell…something’s off with you.”

You sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. “This…” you put your hands out, “is actually my natural state. Tense. Not nearly as bubbly or…like”

“A sunshine girl?”

“Yeah or…a sunshine girl.” 

Vessel looks at you with a sympathetic smile…he can see that blush dusting your pretty cheeks. He  lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly but then pausing. “You’re knotted up, love. Can I…?” Without even hearing your answer, he moves behind you and rubs your shoulders. It hurts a little, only because you’re so tense. His wide hands cover your shoulders and luxuriously knead into your muscles. “What’s made you so tight,” he rasps close to your ear, “Hm? What’s eating at you?” 

You can’t help it. Your head lolls back to his chest and turns so you can look up at him. “All I do is run around taking care of business and other people. I don’t know how to care about myself.”

He can’t stop himself. Brain shutting down. Hands and lips have a mind of their own now. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like I did. You should care about yourself…I…I could teach you…” Vessel trails his nose up your neck and kisses your ear softly before you jump up. 

“Jesus, dude, you can’t just come in here and…” but fuck it he doesn’t look precious wiping his hand down his face and hiding the strain in his pants. “Oh…fuck… actually you totally can.” Immediately you’re straddling his lap, held in place by his soft hands cupping your face…pressing you desperately into his. His kisses trail hungrily down your jaw and to your neck. He finds your pulse point and claims it with his hot, open mouthed kisses. Your hips grind against him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world…but of course, he adjusted to press his strong thigh against you...you are supposed to do this. Suddenly your thoughts are poisoned with guilt as you realize how tightly you’re squeezing his thigh and how you weren’t being exactly quiet. Vessel gently guides your head down so he can whisper to you.

“I’d take you far away from here…anywhere you wanted…just to hear it…I want to hear what I can make you say…how loud I could make you…”

“V-v-es we-...“

“Shh shh shh. It’s ok. Do you want to stop?” His voice is warm and sincere, like he’s meant to take care of you.

“No.”

“Then let me do this…for you. Some comfort…” he turns slowly to lay you on your back, “would you like that…” his fingers gently trace your breasts and tummy over your shirt… “could make you feel good…safe”…your shorts and panties are thrown off the bed…”when was the last time someone did that for you, darling? Made you cum…just to cum?”…your shirt is lifted, tits exposed to the chilly room and his starving eyes.

“Never.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs as he kisses your thighs and settles on his tummy, “no pressure for me then.” But you’re moaning softly already. You’re a live wire as the hands you’ve desperately tried to avoid fantasizing about explore your inner thighs and folds. His finger glides up and down the length of your needy pussy as he looks up at you…pure bliss etched all over his face in the dim lighting. “Atta girl, love. We’re just here to feel good. Hm?” You hear and then feel a wad of his spit hit your clit, followed by his fingers pressing against either side of it. Vessel wraps his left arm around your tummy as your body chases his touch. “Found something you like, did I?”

“Vessel,” you whisper breathlessly but it’s cut off by a strangled moan. His tongue gently darts out for little kitten licks on your clit. You don’t know if your reactions or what he’s doing is making him whimper like that, but you don’t care. Your hand caresses his hair lazily until you have to grab it and keep him in place. He’s taken your clit in his mouth…something you’ve never experienced. Forgetting every wall you placed around yourself with this man, you let your hips grind shamelessly against his perfect mouth. Vessel’s moans and hot breath nearly push you over the edge multiple times. 

“I…” he exhales, trying to catch his breath and contain himself, “am really going to enjoy this.” His middle and ring finger work into your wet cunt and find your g-spot quickly.  “That’s it…that’s it…you feel that? Feel my fingers rubbing you from the inside, yeah?” You can’t respond directly…you’re too busy squirming and whimpering fuck fuck fuck. It feels like you’re on fire as Vessel licks and sucks at your clit, your eyes rolling as your brain tries to compute that the same spot is being stimulated from different angles. It’s too much. 

“I’m yours…I’m yours….please I’m yours.”

“Mine, yeah? Good. You sound s’perfect…haven’t even had my cock.” It’s a miracle that you aren’t screaming out loud now as he sucks at your clit. Both hands tangle in his hair when he starts thrusting his hips against your bed. He moans pathetically into your clit, his hips landing soft blows into the mattress. “I…I’m sorry.” He stops and quickly pulls off his clothes…you swear you’re cumming a little just from the sight of his cock alone. “See what you do to me?” He breathes heavily, standing at your bedside with his cock throbbing without contact. “Seeing you…let yourself go… enjoying yourself… so fucking hard for you. Could cum just licking you out, babe.” You’re tempted to tell him to try it…but you feel empty.

“Make me yours…”

“How would you have me?”

You’re speechless for a second…he’s really into this. Into you feeling good. “Get on your back, angel.” Vessel does as he’s told and blushes at the pet name. He teasingly rubs his cock against your slit…tells you how tight you felt around his fingers…how good you are for him. You moan quietly…weakly…dreamily as you slide down each inch of Vessel’s cock. The stretch is beyond perfect…not uncomfortable…but still more than any stupid toy in your bedside drawer could do. You grind against him and bounce on his cock seemingly without much thought other than feeling good. And he doesn’t stop you, nor does he grab you and fuck up into your pussy. No…he just lays back like a good boy and takes it. Luxuriates in the feeling of the warm stickiness of your pussy…how it hugs his cock and threatens to drain him. You wince a little as your hips tense; still you weren’t fully relaxed despite your blissful state. 

“I’ve got you.” Vessel pulls you close to his chest, pressing your hips down. “Just lay down on me. Let me feel you.” He moans softly as you lay out, your legs scissoring with his just enough to keep his cock buried deep. Your lips crash together. You taste yourself on him…his mouth…and your mind goes even fuzzier. “Sweet girl…you like being lovey, don’t you? Hm?” His hips snap up and press into your cunt. “Little lover girl??”

“I’m…fuck I’m yours Ves…I’m your girl…”

“Let’s make it real then…” his hips thrust back and forth again before pressing deep into you, holding his cock hard against the limit of your pussy…”I’ll fill you to the fucking brim with my cum…leave my handprints on your ass…and-“

“And I’ll leave…little love bites on your chest,” you add, trying to weigh in and stave off your climax. Vessel groans out in response and holds you in place like a toy as you suck and lick at his soft skin. So much for handprints on your ass, though; he can’t help but cradle your back and head. Neither of you have ever felt this before. The soft, warm middle of equal parts wholesome chemistry and earth shattering lust. What was that in the delicate in-between? You bury your face in his neck and forget the world…forget your name…it’s just him. 

“So tight…” He gently lifts your head. “There she is…mmm. Need to see you…need you to see what you do to me.” Vessel tangles his hand in your hair to help fix your gaze on him. His throat bobs with each broken moan…god he wants to cry out for you so badly. For the way your body melts into his as he rolls his hips up and into you. For the way your slick runs out all over him, making a mess of you both. It’s all too much. You press your forehead to his and bear your hips down. Vessel grabs you and presses his hot, greedy lips to yours not just for a kiss, but to muffle the pornographic noises your pussy rips out of him. The feeling of his tongue on your lips pushes you over the edge. Your fluttering orgasm squeezes and milks Vessel’s cock for all it’s worth, causing him to fuck up into you like a rabid animal. He completely and unapologetically ruins you.

You wake up the next morning curled up against his back. He’s already awake and smiles brightly when he feels you pull him close. 

“Guess what.” He whispers. You barely mumble “hm” back to him, still sleepy and fuzzy from your late night tryst. Vessel chuckles and rolls over, your stuffed whale shark from the aquarium clutched to his chest. 

“Hey! That’s mine,” you grumble.

“Oh and suddenly you don’t share anymore…hm? Not my lover girl when the sun’s up,” he teases. “Anyways…it’s just us this weekend. We have some wasted time to make up for…don’t you think?���

[steveshairychest]

Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

[rkvriki]

not a couple but not just friends with enhypen ! - hyung line

hiiiii!! i haven't posted in sooooo long im sososo sorry!! something different might be on the way!!

make sure to leave feedback. my requests are open and so is my talk box so let's talk!

WARNINGS ! making out, it's not really suggestive but ya kno; might contain grammar errors!

word count: 1.1k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— kissing and other types of pda

heeseung and you were alone in the dorms, all the guys were out doing their own things and you both took that as an opportunity to spend time together.

the two of you were in the kitchen getting snacks and drinks for the movie marathon you were gonna have.

“hee, can you help me? i can't reach those chips.”

“sure thing, princess.” your stomach fluttered with butterflies as he came behind you putting his hand on your waist while the other one reached for the chips, making you let out a quiet gasp, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. heeseung grabbed the chips and put them down on the counter, while his hand joined the other on your waist as he turned you around to face him. you smiled at him used to this type of behavior coming from him. you put your hands around his neck as his face comes closer to yours to connect your lips. you both shared a passionate kiss, moving your head to the side to kiss him deeper. you both missed to hear the sound of the front door opening and only realized someone was in the house when you heard the voices of jake and jay coming closer to the kitchen, making you pull out slowly from the kiss, unashamed by the fact they probably saw you guys kissing. you both looked at them who were frozen looking at you guys with a confused expression.

“but weren’t you “just friends”?” jake asked, making quotation marks in the air.

“we are friends.” you said shrugging.

rest under the cut !

PARK JONGSEONG !

— going out on romantic dates

today you woke up with a text from jay telling you that he was going to pick you up by 7:30 and that you should dress fancy. everyone was confused with whatever you and jay had going on. honestly to both of you it was very simple, you were both too lazy to put a label on it. it was obvious you two were way more than just friends. you started getting ready by doing your makeup since you were still indecisive with your dress. you went for your roommate to ask her for help-

“i can’t choose which one to use today, jay didn’t give me details about where we’re going so i don’t know which one is more appropriate” 

yunjin looked at the dresses then at you. “the black is not too much and not too little, so take that one. also when will you let me know what you two have going on or?” she said, waving her hand at you. you sighed at her tired of hearing her asking the same thing every time you went out with him. “i’m not going over this again yunjin.” you said making your way out of her room.

you finished getting ready and decided to snap a picture for jay. you sent it to him and he replied almost immediately.

jay: baby… you look so gorgeous fuck

jay: i’m almost there

you smiled at his text happy that you didn’t need to have a label with him for you to know he was yours.

SIM JAEYUN !

— going on weekend getaways

jake loved taking you out to visit somewhere when he had his weekends off from work. it was hard for you both to go out for a few days since he had a busy schedule but you both still managed to spend time together. 

you two were now in one of busan’s beaches watching the sunset, sitting in a blanket in the middle of the sand. the beach was secluded since it wasn’t that hot yet. your head laid in jake’s shoulder as he held your hands in his to warm them up.

“how did we end up like this?” jake asks “why so suddenly?” you ask him, chuckling. “i don’t know, just wondering how the hell i ended up taking my best friend on weekend getaways that aren’t really friendly.” you took your head from his shoulder looking at his face, silently admiring his side profile. you smiled at him and said “life makes us do the craziest thing i guess.” jake looked at you, making eye contact. his eyes scanned your face and he started leaning closer, making you do the same. your lips fell into his like a puzzle piece falling perfectly into its place. the fresh breeze from the beach blew into both of your hairs. jake’s hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss. you felt his tongue swiping your lower lip, making you open your mouth and letting him explore your mouth. you both pulled out looking at each other, giving one last peck and going back to watch the sunset.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— giving each other gifts 

sunghoon loves spoiling you and it makes you feel bad because you don’t buy him half of the things he buys you. he keeps reminding you that it really doesn’t matter if you give him things or not because you alone are already enough to him. whenever he's traveling with the members in work or just a tripe he will be always saying “oh, y/n would love this.” and then proceeds to it for you. he doesn’t even check the price and the others keep saying something like “i don’t know why you spend so much money if you aren’t dating.” he just smiles at them not knowing how to explain it to them. he comes back home to you with so many bags and a cheeky smile. you stare at him dumbfounded and he just sits besides you telling you to open them. 

“sunghoon how much did you spend here?!” 

“it was just a little, don't worry about it.” 

you do the same thing as him, or almost. when you are out by yourself, just shopping for yourself or with friends, you see a clothing item that you are so sure he would love it so you go and check the price, almost crying when you look at it. either way, you take a deep breath and grab his size and take it to the cashier. when you give them your card you always fear it will decline, knowing you won’t shop anything else for the day. when you give him his present he smiles like a kid on a christmas morning. he barely looks at it before he’s pulling you into a hug and thanking you.

“baby this looks so expensive, you didn’t need to.”

“don’t worry hoon, it wasn’t.” a big lie. it was and your wallet was crying, but for him you didn’t mind it one bit.

[brokenmutations]

Not just a “Fling”

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heat Manifestation] • You and Logan were never…exclusive. It’s always been a friends with benefits even if the friend part is silent. But when a scare happens, it draws Logan out of that state of mind • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Illusions to sex / hickeys / biting • TW: Pregnancy Scare / Injuries / Scars / Anxiety

There seems to be a routine with it.

Logan waits outside of Y/N’s class whenever he was in the mood, and she would wait outside of his for the same reason—-then they would go to Y/N’s room in the mansion, have a little fun, and Logan leaves almost immediately after.

It’s a bit surprising that no one has caught on to their situationship. Logan is the master of denial and 90% of the time they would believe him, but when the accusations hit Y/N about the two of them. That 90 becomes 100%. She knows he doesn’t want more out of the two of them so what’s the point in feeding into her “delusional” feelings.

“So, you and Logan—-“

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s nothing, Jean?” Y/N sighs, getting her suit on for the mission she, Jean, and Scott were assigned to. She was testing out new thermal gloves that Hank designed for her mutation so while Jean focused on her love life, she was more looking forward to the long gloves.

“C’mon! I see the way he looks at you”

Like a piece of meat Y/N thought and had a bit of a “wait a minute” moment giving Jean a look but was instantly met with confusion. Thankful she didn’t read her mind.

“You sure you don’t see the two of you…I don’t know…together in the future?”

“No” How quick Y/N’s answer is what brought disappointment on Jean’s face.

“You sure you don’t need an extra hand?” Logan asks Scott as they were headed toward the hanger. Scott side eyed him even if he couldn’t tell with the visor he has. “What? It doesn’t hurt to have back up”

“For a scouting mission? The backup can stay comfortably here. But I promise you, with Jean alone, Y/N and I will be safe. Hell. I don’t have to go really. Professor asked me to go along with them but the two could’ve handled it alone” Scott realizes he was rambling and before they entered the hanger, he stopped Logan. “We’re good.” and with that he entered alone but when the doors were hissing shut, Y/N caught a glimpse of Logan and vise versa.

The scouting mission was a success…for the most part. They did get themselves into a pickle but didn’t call for backup on the matter. Scott handled it, after a few shots were fired and a few grazing Y/N. Nothing too serious.

Room in 5

Logan stares at the text he received and downed his beer that he kept hidden from the students. Tossing the bottle in the bin after removing the label so the professor wouldn’t get pissed about alcohol in the building.

The second he entered the room without being seen, the man was shoved against the closed door and Y/N’s lips met his in an instant. Logan didn’t mind this one bit. He thought it was odd that the lights weren’t on when he entered but with the way her hands were taking off his belt then his pants along with it…his mind blanked and focused on one thing.

Fucking her until she forgot her name.

After their fun, Y/N shifted in her spot turning her head toward the sleeping form beside her. He’s never slept over she thought and there was good reason he didn’t, aside from their “rules.” She slowly sat up in her bed letting the blanket fall and the coolness of the room draw a shiver out of her when it hit her bare chest. She reached over and the palm of her hand glowed a light red, pressing itself into his skin and causing him to wake. The heat she emitted wasn’t enough to cause damage, just enough to bring warmth.

Logan jolted awake, giving Y/N a confused look that didn’t last long. “Sorry”

“It’s whatever. Just make sure no one sees you” Y/N slipped out of the bed in her naked glory making her way toward the bathroom, she flicked the light on and Logan took note of the hickeys that littered her neck, a few bite marks on her shoulder, and the bandages on her arm from her injuries. “Take a picture it’ll last longer”

“Can I?” Logan smirks getting out of the bed and making his way over, with hopes for a round two in the shower but she gently placed her hand on his chest to stop him. “Is that a no?”

“It is a firm…no” Y/N gently pushed him back seeing the smirk not leave his face. “I need a shower and you need to clean up for drinks later”

“Thinking of ditching that, if you do too…we don’t have to leave this room” He smirks leaning against the doorframe as Y/N crosses her arms eyeing him up and down. “See something you like?”

“Yes…but I could also use a drink…” Y/N weighed her odds before sighing. “You can join me in the shower, but you need to leave after. I’d like to see Scott’s drunk ass try and sing Bye Bye Bye later so I can record it for blackmail” she smirks stepping back and letting him in as he shuts the door behind him.

Loud and terrible singing coming from Cyclops himself can be heard throughout the bar followed by drunk cheering from his other half. Y/N sat at the bar watching this unfold as Ororo went up to Scott to join him in fishing the song in which Y/N stopped recording. She looked over at the booth the rest of the team was at as she couldn’t help but feel herself stare at Logan and Jean talking to one another.

One of the many reasons she doesn’t want to pursue something. Or whatever she’s trying to call it. She’s not intimated by Jean, just knows how much she means to Logan. So meaningless sex it is. All…her feelings…for the emotionally unavailable, just had to stay dormant.

Until the alcohol kicked in.

“Y/N!!!! Come sing a song” Ororo called out to her as Y/N downs the last of her fourth drink and got up off the stool making her way to the stage. The only cheers coming from her and Scott who slumped against the table.

Y/N punched in the song and took the microphone from Ororo staring out into the bar with very few patrons.

“Love of my life…you’ve hurt me” Y/N starts, her eyes moving to the floor. “You’ve broken my heart, and now you leave me…love of my life can’t you see?”

As she continues to sing the Queen song, Jean leaned into Logan tipsy herself as the sober Wolverine kept his eyes on Y/N.

“Just admit you love her already…” Jean whines, grabbing his arm shaking him. “We both know you dooooo….”

“I don’t, Jeanie.” Stop lying to yourself.

“You know I can read your mind”

“In the state you’re in?” Logan quirked an eyebrow looking at her as she had closed her eyes after saying such, half expecting her to be trying but then she started to snore. “Yeah that’s what I thought”

“You will remember…when this is blown over…” Y/N sat on the edge of the stage, looking over to Logan who kept his attention on Jean. “And everything’s all by the way…when I grow older, I will be there at your side to remind you…”

How I still love you

Y/N didn’t finish the song and decided to close their tab before drunkly helping Logan load everybody up in Scott’s car. The other three passed out on the drive while Y/N who was slowly but surely started to sober up had fought against sleep even if Logan kept telling her to.

“Should’ve stayed home…”

“Liking my plan right about now, huh?” Logan looked at her, noticing the grimace on her face as he was about to question if that’s toward him. But with a quick look to the car door, he pulled over watching her push it open and vomit her guts out. “Yeah…definitely.” He put the car in park and before he could even think of helping her, he heard Scott gag which only meant he was next to vomit.

What a gross chain reaction. But they EVENTUALLY made it back to the mansion.

Y/N collapsed on her bed feeling gross and in a desperate need for another shower. Maybe five. She couldn’t stop thinking about the song she sang and how close Jean and Logan were. She thought she truly shoved her feelings away.

But she’s really just a temporary relief.

With her feelings lying on the surface, she hasn’t hooked up with Logan as much as she did before. Maybe once a week? Or once every other week? Still a lot given Logan can last for hours but they used to fuck like bunnies and now Logan is standing outside of her classroom for more reasons outside of the physical.

“Penny for your thoughts, Logan?”

The professor caught him staring at Y/N who was simply grading papers.

“Uhm. No. What do you want?”

“Ororo needs assistance on a quick meet up for intel on Magneto’s whereabouts. Mind joining her?”

Logan nods before leaving to meet up with Ororo, leaving Charles to linger at the door bringing his attention onto Y/N who locked eyes with him.

Stay out of my head, Charles Y/N frowns as he decided against her words wheeling himself in and right beside his desk. She stopped what she was doing, gripping her hands tight. “How much do you know?”

“I didn’t snoop too far into your mind. Just the surface of not wanting Logan at the door…and the fear that…well” Charles shrugs with a worried expression toward her. “You might be pregnant”

Y/N’s face went from annoyance to a hint of rage as she looks at Charles gripping her fists that glowed red.

“Stay out of my mind.”

“Y/N, you should get a test or have Han—-“

“Charles. Leave before I burn this whole mansion down.” She snapped watching him nod quickly and leaving. But her heat wouldn’t cool fast enough so she got up and ran out of the classroom.

Having run past Charles and a couple of students on her way to the back of the mansion, only brought more concern for her as he wheeled himself out urgently which caught Scott’s attention in passing.

“Professor what’s—-“

“Get Y/N a towel, if you don’t mind” Charles frowns as Y/N stood in the shallow part of the lake before slumping and sitting in the muck for a while. “I’ve got this”

As Scott leaves, Charles brought himself as close as he could to the lake without falling in. Y/N turned to him with an apologetic look and tears rolling off her cheeks.

“You know. Whatever happens, and whatever you decide…we are here for you. I’m here for you. You’re my family, Y/N”

Y/N continued to sob as she dragged herself out of the lake bringing herself to Charles and he did not hesitate to open his arms to her. Letting her drenched self bring herself into his arms and onto his lap. He didn’t care about the suit he wore or anything on that matter. She wanted the comfort and he gladly gave that to her.

The wild goose chase Logan was on, only pissed him off and he wanted to relieve those emotions but when he reached Y/N’s room the door was open. He hesitantly stepped inside not sensing her in the room but as he entered and looked around for a brief moment. He was about to leave when he noticed a few boxes on her dresser.

It felt like the worse timing for Y/N to come back, smelling like a pond and having to come to a decision. But when she came in and saw Logan holding up the boxes of pregnancy tests she felt all that anxiety return.

“I don’t know yet”

“Were you gonna tell me?”

“Yes”

“Now how do I know you’re not lying to me on that? Most people don’t tell the other person until it’s too late”

“I’m not like most people and you would know that if what we have wasn’t just sex.” Y/N snapped, taking the boxes out of his hands. “You’ll be the first to know, Logan. But trust me. If you don’t want this…to be tied down with me forever if this comes out positive? Then you don’t fucking have to” she said with a bit of a harsh shove of him out the room. Logan quickly turned and before he could say anything, she shut the door on him.

His mood affected those around him for the rest of the school day that Scott reluctantly invited him to drinks just them. Even if Jean and Ororo invited themselves after he told Jean what he was doing that night.

“So no Y/N?” Jean questions with a frown as Ororo looked up from her phone hoping for a reason why. But with how Logan was gripping the door to Scott’s car from the passenger’s seat, a soft sigh escape Scott.

“She got swamped with grading. Told me she’s been behind on papers for her class and decided to stay back at the mansion”

Once they were at the bar, Ororo got a booth with Jean which left Scott and Logan to get the first round of drinks. But even after a couple rounds, Logan didn’t budge from the bar. So once Scott knew the girls were alright and comfortable with the bar food he got for them, he went to join Logan.

The awkward silence grew between the two until Scott decided ripping off the bandage was the right plan.

“Listen. I didn’t know you and Y/N were serious in any way. But you know you have more than a team right? I know we butt heads a lot but—-“

“Shut it. Y/N and I…we’re…Fuck off. We’re not…whatever it is” Logan groans pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is that why you asked me to join yall? To talk about my feelings about her being fucking pregnant?”

Scott sighs leaning against the bar. “See now I didn’t know that last part and for someone who can’t get drunk, you’re spilling a lot to me. Of all people”

“…What do you want?”

“To help you. Why are you feeling the way you’re feeling…if you were never something more”

Logan squinted at Scott before gesturing for another drink and to give Scott another of the club soda he was drinking before getting into it.

“She told me I don’t have to. I don’t have to be there…and before I could say anything, she shut the door in my face”

“If she hadn’t, what would you have said?”

A tight grip on his new bottle relaxed and the big scary Wolverine everyone knows…took a moment to fall apart. Fold. Crack.

“I would’ve told her…I never thought I wanted this…until she came around. Until it just. Fucking happened…I want to be there…I’m….” Logan sat up straighter and ditched his beer along with Scott and the girls.

The bar isn’t exactly close to the mansion. Nor is the weather the best in Westchester County. Logan got a cab but when it wasn’t going fast enough, the man stepped out and ran back to the mansion in the rain.

When he stumbled into the mansion, he dealt with a few straggling students that should be in their dorms but instead of scowling them he ran toward the teacher side of the dorms.

Y/N lifted her head from her book when she heard pounding on her door. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tossed her book on the bed next with her blanket off her lap before going to the door.

The now very wet Logan appeared on the other side of the door and given Y/N’s mood hasn’t changed on matters, she tried to shut the door on him again but Logan slammed his palm against the door.

“You have to listen to me”

“I don’t have to do shit”

“Y/N, baby—-Please” Logan pleaded, bringing his body into the frame where it would only hurt if she tried to shut the door again. “Just let me talk, alright?”

Y/N’s anger relaxed but she was still mad…she took a step back to let him into her room, closing the door. “Why are you wet? You’re lucky you can’t get sick…”

“Ran in the rain. Had to get here. Had to get to you. Tell you everything” Logan paced slightly tugging at the wet clothes which only prompted Y/N to go into her dresser pulling out one of his flannels tossing it to the bed before going into her bathroom to get him a towel. “You kept that?”

“After one of our…excursions…you left in a hurry with just your pants on and shoes in hand that you forgot your flannel so…yeah I kept it…” Y/N found herself trailing before jumping back into it while Logan took off his wet clothes. “What is it, Logan? And I’m going to not face you when you strip because your nudity is going to cloud my judgement”

The second she turned around, Logan felt nervous. He hasn’t felt this nervous in a long time.

“I want you.” He started and he knows by the way she tensed that she read it as the other need. “And not in just…how we’ve been doing it. I want you…Y/N, I need you. As much as you think this was it and that’s what it looks like…But I’ve noticed every little thing you do that makes you, you.” He stepped closer once he got the flannel on and was now standing behind her with just the shirt and boxers. “How you don’t want to wait for the kitchen to be free and use your mutation to make grilled cheese…then Ororo and sometimes Kurt will beg for their own when they catch you doing that….” He chuckles lightly, hearing her soft giggle. “Listening to you hum softly when you’re focused on something, whether that be on a mission or helping a student…the warmth you give, regardless of your mutation…while you can be a bit wild on the field and when certain unexpected things happen…you always have this warmth…that’s welcoming. Even to someone like me…”

Y/N felt the loose tears roll off her cheeks, as the warmth from his closeness engulfed her when he brought his arms around her frame.

“I’m sorry. For yelling at you…I was afraid and shouldn’t have assumed you wouldn’t have told me…that you’d lie to me” Logan whispers, resting his chin on her shoulder bringing her close as she held onto his arms. “You are more than just a fling…and this was a wake up call. That I want more. I want more with you…even when the next steps aren’t in order”

The tears continued as she gently pulls away to turn around looking up at him.

“Yeah?” Her voice cracked with the tears still falling but he brought his hands to cradle her face gently wiping away the tears. “L-Logan, I’m scared though…”

“Listen, Y/N. Listen to me carefully…” Logan held her face slightly making her look at him as he brought his close. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what the test says.”

Everything he’s been saying, felt so out of character. But he’s always had this soft center he’d crack open for, for his person. Y/N brought her arms around his neck pulling him into his arms holding onto him tightly, feeling his arms return around her frame holding her close.

When she took the test, Logan sat with her on her bed waiting for the three minutes to pass. Y/N’s face gave the result away as it went from fear to the smallest hint of disappoint to a sense of relief. She turns to Logan who shared more of the disappointed feeling on his face.

“You’re off the hook” She laughs softly feeling him nudge her with a hint of annoyance. “What?”

“For now.” Logan stated with his signature smirk, only for Y/N to pat his chest resting her head on his shoulder. “I meant it. I’m not going anywhere and if the future has this in it…We’ll be perfect”

“Flaws and all” Y/N says softly feeling his arm wrap around her shoulders. “So what’s next, Logan Howlett?”

“Officially making you mine” Logan smirks bringing his lips to hers and it felt right this time.

And for forever after.

[syscest]

hi im assuming the us vs them post is about a specific term, which one would that be?

so the sysmed out-group term being referenced in the joke post was (as the reblogs guessed) "endogenic", and I'll lay our thoughts out straight just once to avoid being potentially taken the wrong way

I've got two angles here, existential theological linguistic bullshit, and harm-reduction. stay with me here because even if you're not on board with the first thing you'll want to see the second.

so "traumagenic vs endogenic" is a false dichotomy, and I don't just mean "there's a secret third thing", I mean both classifications are fundamentally not real.

personally? we haven't the foggiest idea why we're a system. but the thing is, I don't think anybody else does either - I think it's genuinely impossible to know why your own consciousness is behind your own eyes and controlling your own body, why you *experience* existing in first-person at all. Like shit, lots of singlets believe it's because a soul has been created or introduced to their flesh, and a bunch of others think that's a load of crap and the chemicals just *do this* on their own. Singlets get this unalienable right to believe whatever the hell they want about why they're experiencing being themselves all the damn time, and I refuse to believe that systems are uniquely special in a way that singlets are not such that anyone can fucking flawlessly divine the cause of our consciousness all of a sudden. These are existential-tier questions and to deny their impossible complexity and the right to self-belief over them is, in my eyes, to deny systems something many singlets feel is part of what makes them human.

You can believe all sorts of stuff about the nature of your own systemhood just like how you can believe all sorts of stuff about the nature of your own existence - that doesn't make you definitively right, it's just a meaningful mechanism through which you understand your own experiences that other people should respect - it's like any faith, go figure.

Frustratingly, these words - traumagenic, endogenic - they're not talking about belief, they're objective buckets actively being used for exclusion. So every time we use the term "traumagenic systems", in saying "systems that objectively exist because of trauma" we are saying, loudly, "it is possible to know why a system exists". and frankly? no the fuck it isn't.

Anyway that's airy bullshit and reflects very idealised interactions so - practical, realist opinions, and harm reduction:

Saying "I'm pro-endo" is a net good, though I think "I support all systems" is probably marginally better because it doesn't perpetuate categories pushed by sysmeds for exclusionary reasons as being essential to defining systemhood - as we joked about.

Contrastingly, self-declaring "traumagenic" or "endogenic" in a bio is a net bad. Saying "I'm a traumagenic system" also says "Hello sysmeds, I believe in your dichotomy and I'm one of the good ones" (great way to get sysmed followers), and that factor doesn't go away if you go on to say that you support all systems - you've already thrown away your opportunity to shield more vulnerable systems from harassment through making who sysmeds need to target more obscure.

In fact, regardless of whether your bio says to sysmeds "I am a target" or "I'm not a target", by saying it explicitly, you're pressuring other, more vulnerable systems to similarly self-declare. It's like cis people putting pronouns in their bio to shield trans people from harassment through obscurity and embarrassment, but in reverse - if you shut up about it, and *just* call yourself a plural system, even if you do believe in their categorisations, you stop the propogation of the self-labelling and exclusionists are forced to make themselves look like idiots because most of their harassment would have to be done at random. It's basically herd immunity - nobody talks, everybody walks.

anyway yeah there's context for future, though honestly the section in plural respect is a lot more succinct lmao

[answer2jeff]

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

[deathmetalangel]

HARDLY SEEMS FAIR

robby keene x fem! reader

warnings: "casual" relationship", swearing, arguments, crying, heavily ldr coded, implied hookups, slut shaming, cheating, angsty

“in what world is that fair robby?"

oke so this is kinda a retconnned chapter from my wattpad book that i'm just extending and making more ambigious instead of clearly x oc. i hope y'all like it tho. i am sorry i have been gone for so long :(

Y/n plays with the ends of Robby's hair. He was laying with his head in her lap while they just relaxed in her room. It was calm, domestic. A small and very rare moment for just the two of them. No outside force would intrude and break their safe haven. There was no what if's that lingered in the air. Nor past resentments that hung over them like an ominous cloud determined to damper their moods. 

It was just Y/n and Robby. And that's all they'll ever be. No labels. She figured that much after the last time she'd brought it up. But she's become so full of him she can't even bring herself to care. She'd rather have what they have now, whatever it may be with him. Rather than risking losing him, and the routine she's started to build around him. 

She hums softly. Her mind far off. "Y/n?" She hymns in acknowledgement without turning her head. "Something happened this weekend."

He was lying. This had been going on for weeks. He had been having doubts for weeks. He'd been seeing her for weeks. "What happened? Another karate fight?" She wasn't the girl who got heartbroken. She was never the second choice. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him, however she could have him.

"I kissed Sam Larusso."

Y/n freezes. Her body betraying her as she tenses up. She has no right, she knows that. They were 'casual'. Just her and Robby. Non-commital.

"I mean big deal right? We were drunk anyways. Just felt bad not telling you. I know were not dating so it's really not your business, but don't worry about it. I mean we've fucked so often what does a kiss even mean?"

A kiss. To her it meant everything. An act of intimacy that they rarley ever shared. So innocent, so pure.

"Get out of my room Robby." Y/n mumbles, her voice above a whisper. The teen sits up from her lap and looks at her incredalously. He was only telling her to keep her in the loop. She didnt have the right to be mad. So why was she making a big deal about this?

"What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room Keene."

He furrows his brows in a toxic coctail of anger and confusion. "Why? You can't get pissed at me for this Y/n. We aren't fucking dating. Don't get all aggro on me like you're some psycho girlfriend when you're a friend with benefits at best."

Y/n stands up and pushes the boy out of her room. "Get the fuck out of here Robby! If it didn't mean anything why don't you go fuck her then? Go whine about your mommy issues and daddy issues to her and leave me the hell alone."

"You have some nerve you know that right? Don't act all high and mighty now. You're a whore. Why the hell would I ever actually take you seriously when I can get everything I want without the label or work. You're easy, I could never do that shit with Sam."

Her breath was stuck in her throat as the boy she truly thought cared began to berate her as if she was a random person on the street. The boy she suffered for. The boy that was really never her's to keep. Y/n forces herself to wipe her anrgy tears and push Robby once again.

Y/n's hands were shaky, she desprately wanted to cry. To scream. To give in and give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "Oh so you can come over whenever you want, make me listen to your shitty life, and basically force yourself into my own life, but all that means nothing right? Well guess what Kenne. You kissed her, and she still doesn't want you!" She presses her finger into his chest while her voice level rises. "That same girl is still with Miguel. So just because you wanna jump ship and 'upgrade' doesn't mean she wants anything to do with you. Face it babe, you're just white trash."

"Shut the fuck up Y/n." Robby practically spits back.

"Oh, so you can disrespect me and belittle me in my own fucking room, but when its you its a problem? Grow up Robby. You're a man baby and a hypocrite. In what world is that fair Robby? Maybe in your little made up fantasy where Sam picks you and you leave me for dead. So go stay there. Cause you're sure as hell not welcome here."

Y/n throws everything he's given her at him. Every last peice a memory they shared together. Posters, drawings, braclets, anything that adorned her room. All of it thrown to him and crashing down like victims of a violent storm. Tears streamed down her face as he backed up to her door.

She opens the door for him and grabs his sweater and keys before shoving it in his chest. The boy watches her dumbfounded.

"Stay away from me Robby. Go back to some other slut that can put up with your baggage and shitty attitude for one night stand status. Because I'm done."

He looks at her, but there wasn't the girl he knew looking back at him. Not with how she glared, not with how she stood, and not with how she felt. Her eyes, the e/c irises reflected love, now they were dark. Harbors for her contempt. The grimace on her face was unforgettable. Especially as the last thing he seen before she slammed her door on his face.

Robby swallows the spit in his mouth, a hard lump of guilt not wanting to go down. He didn't think any of this would happen. He wanted her to care, but he didn't want to fight. His temper, his father's god forsaken temper, and his own damned ego.

He wanted what he had with her, with Sam. The girl next door with a rich family and big house. Like something out of a book. Not the girl that did whatever he said for the sake of making him happy. He really did want to just abandon her, didn't he? After everything.

Choking back his frustrations the boy marches down her stairs and lets himself out. He liked what he had with her, but he wouldn't fight for her. Guys only did that for the girl they want.

[magpod-confessions]

alright got a new bone to pick with an anon who pulled up the tma transcripts as 'proof' Jon is completely celibate and said that people are 'trying to erase canon asexuality'

apologies for bringing up discourse but this person is just so. Noejvneojekjdcmekfv.

anon idk who you are but that. Is NOT the solid, concrete proof you think it is.

like.

out of context, yes, it means Jon doesn't have sex.

however IN context (and even a bit out of, bc of 'according to Georgie') it. Only really serves to gently imply, yes, Jon is ace. And the writers did in fact clarify, yes, Jon is ace, and fans can do with that fact what they please.

And I would like to remind y'all:

Melanie fucking hates Jon around the time this line is said. And she is getting her information from Georgie, who is Jon's EX, who hadn't spoken to him in YEARS.

it's second hand information.

it's not concrete.

hell, if the writers didn't even clarify that Jon was ace people would've probably just. Ignored the line all together bc it's SECOND HAND INFORMATION.

I love the fact that Jon is ace. And I love how a good chunk of his asexuality isn't really explain. Bc then we get to interpret things, and project.

no one is trying to say he's not actually ace. Especially not fic writers. Most smut writers who have Jon in their fics are themselves ace, and are projecting.

Anon, did we even listen to the same podcast? Bc I'm pretty sure a good chunk of it is understood from reading between the lines, and context clues, and understanding not every character knows everything at all times, and to take character accounts with a grain of salt especially when it comes to office gossip and that gossip ≠ gospel.

again, I am not trying to say "this is why Jon is allowed to fuck in fics" no im saying that to try and say these smut fics are erasing a sexuality that is hardly even mentioned and not at all really relavent to the whole story is just wrong. It's incorrect.

people are allowed to write what they write. You don't need a reason. And as readers it is NOT our place to go after creators who are writing what they please, especially when it isn't even in bad faith. It's also not our place to assume and "call out" people on baseless assumptions of them "trying to erase or explain away the TRUTH"

so yes, anon, it IS a vague and ambigouaous representation bc if you took even a moment to look back on s3 you'd realize that EVERYTHING IS VAGUE AND AMBIGUOUS BC WERE LISTENING TO THE VAGYE AND AMBIGUOUS PODCAST

Yes, Jon is ace.

yes, the writers said you can put any acespec label or hc on it, and that such is all valid.

yes, one character one time said Jon 'doesnt'

no, that doesn't mean that all writers or creators or artists or whatever have to abide by "doesn't."

again, mods, sorry to bring up discourse.

.

[fandomfics]

Sex pollen

A Tumblr Made Me Do It fic

Pairing: Deadpool/ Wade Wilson x gn reader

Description: Wade catches you about to sniff a dangerous flower, he's willing to do whatever it takes to help you survive.

Masterlist

A/N: I was cackling to myself when I came up with this idea, so very Wade.

⚠️Warnings⚠️

18+ MDNI

Sex pollen trope, language, implied smut

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A knock at the door, a pink box wrapped in white ribbon, and a note tucked under the bow with the words "from your secret admirer <3" in childlike handwriting.

You bring the box in and set it on the table to open it when there's another knock at the door. Unsurprisingly you find your neighbor Wade standing there in Wolverine pjs gripping an empty mug in one hand and a stuffed unicorn in the other, same as every other morning.

He gets his pumpkin spice creamer with a splash of coffee, and joins you at the table where you sip yours.

"Oooooh, someones got a secret admirer!" He taunts.

"Guess so." you say with an eye roll. You're approximately 100% sure it's from Wade himself.

"Well, open it! I hope it's a new vibrator! That ancient one you use needs to go out to pasture." He hangs his head solemnly.

"I'd stab you in the neck right now if I knew it wouldn't turn you on." You say plainly as you think back to when he was helping you move in and "accidentally" dropped the box labeled nightstand.

You finally pull the end of the ribbon on the box and remove the lid, as soon as you do the four sides fan flat out and a small plume of sparkling purple dust puffs up from around a flower. The dust tickles your nose as you look up to see Wade, somehow in slow motion, swipe the box off the table yelling "Noooooo" in a deep distortion that matches his speed.

Time resumes as normal and you let out a small sneeze as he comes around the table kneeling in front of you, gripping your shoulders in both hands.

"Are you okay, did you inhale any of the pollen?"

"Yeah, what the fuck was that? Smelled awful, like oysters and chocolate."

"I'm so sorry princess," he hangs his head, "you don't have long, I read about these things on Tumblr. Every single article I read said...said..." He pauses dramatically and pinches the bridge of his nose as if to try and stop tears from forming, "You only have 24 hours to live."

"What the hell-"

"Hush," he puts his index finger to your lips, "There is a cure. I have to fuck you."

You stand up and he follows suit, you tilt your head up with determination in your eyes as you walk forward forcing him back. You continue until his back is against the wall next to the door and stand up on your tip toes, lips mere millimeters away. "I'm gonna go fuck Logan's brains out."

"Damn you Tumblr! You've failed me!" He whisper yells as he looks to nowhere in particular.

"Now you get to listen to someone else fuck me instead. I think that's a good punishment." You smile wide before faltering slightly when you feel his cock twitch in his pants. You roll your eyes as you open the door and start to move over the threshold, "of course you'd be into that."

"I'll take what I can get." He shrugs as he follows you back to his apartment.