#my fics are always on my mind

[autisticaboutstufflol]

About Me!

I've gotten a WHOLE bunch of new followers bc of y'all coming over from my ao3, or just, stumbling upon me, so here's some basic info on me!

So hi, I'm Clown, or Sam, whichever is funnier at any given point in time.

I use they/them and vae/vaer, but I'm also chill with he/him or xe/xem, love those guys.

I'm 18, and I don't really mind if you're a minor or not or an adult or not to interact w my page. Just don't be weird to me???

I'm also a hashtag disabled hottie, doctors love me for my mysterious conditions and my body's general inability to function the way it should be functioning. I will project so fucking heavy onto any characters that I think are disabled/are canon disabled or chronically ill. My current guy of the month is Law from one piece. Blows him up with my mind affectionately, he's chronically ill in the same kinda way as me now, good luck with that one champ.

Speaking of which. READ MY FICS BOY [gender neutral]. My ao3 is swaglittlesystem, I currently have one ongoing longfic- Accidental Adoptions. It's updated every Wednesday, this is subject to change based on how much I can write lol.

I also have my Daemon AU, which I will update with fics sporadically.

Yippee, huzzah, ect.

Uhhh, DNI if you're like. A Fucking Weirdo, a zionist, ect.

[Fucking Weirdo criteria is if you are actively romanticizing and enjoying anything like the following in a way that you think is hot/attractive/ect.: pedophilia, loli/shota, incest, pseudo-incest, bestiality. If you write a story in which there is a bestiality scene, tag it correctly, and understand that is fucked up and not cool, that's fine. If you write a story in which there is a bestiality scene, and think it's sooo hot, or don't tell people in your comments that saying it's hot is bad. Uh. Just please DNI.]

If you actually got through all that, here is a picture of my beloved bearded dragon, Lichen!

[even-disco-baby]

THOUGHT GAINED: INFERNAL ENGINES

PROBLEM

The world is ending. You know it, your neighbor knows it, the dealer knows it, the jailer knows it, the king and all his men know it. All one has to do is look around to see it— the future is curdling into something pale and incorporeal. The infernal machine that is this stupid world is going to blow, sooner rather than later. So what are you doing? Why are you still here? Why is anyone still here?

SOLUTION

You are doing the only thing worth doing. You are living. *Why,* you ask? Try and remember now. Remember your mother’s hand on your shoulder. Remember the taste of a fresh catch. Remember the times when you were kind to the dogs in the valley and they did not bare their teeth. Remember the weight of a child on your shoulders. Remember the stars throwing their light against the wall of sodium and smog. Remember singing until your throat was raw. Remember crying just as loudly and publicly, and the gentleness with which someone opened your curled fist and pressed a handkerchief into your palm. Crying, laughing, running, eating, screaming, haunting, loving, fighting, fighting, fighting. The fight fuels you, and you fuel the fight. You run yourself ragged just for a chance to keep running. You never stop. You cannot stop. The world depends on it. *You* are the infernal engine. You are the world. And, simply put: you want to live.

[kaizokuniichan]

What You Want

Roronoa Zoro x AFAB reader

Summary: You have a tendency to slip into Zoro’s bed every time you drink. For some reason he lets you keep on doing it

This is the absolute longest fic I’ve ever written in my life. I don’t know how it happened, I just let my hand take the lead. Apologies for any weird formatting, I was forced to write this on my phone.

Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral, light choking, slight degradation, use of “good girl”, nipple play

Word Count: 5.6k (😰)

MDNI; 20+ readers please

(Divider by @cafekitsune )

Sometimes you had this nasty habit of slipping into Zoro’s bed when you drank. You didn’t know why, it was just something you did.

The first time it happened you’d been so inebriated that your stumbling around had resulted in you tripping over a pair of boots, scrabbling onto the bed to break your fall, and flopping unceremoniously onto his legs. He startled awake and attempted to shove you off but your drunken delirium insisted that you were in your room and you had every right to be there. Exasperated, he rolled you off his knees and you eventually passed out by his ankles.

A mumbled apology came the next day during breakfast which he wordlessly waved off. After quickly gulping down his food, he grabbed his katanas and headed out the door. No other exchange about the matter was made.

The first time you slipped under the duvet, the dip of the mattress was what pulled him from his slumber. It was just enough for him to see you at the furthest edge of the bed, your head flopping onto the pillow and your soft snores soon following. You’d only slept for maybe 2 hours before you jerked awake, realizing where you’d mistakenly wound up again. You quickly gathered your shoes and pants that had been haphazardly discarded, and snuck out of the room.

The first time your bodies made contact, your back had been pressed against his. He hadn’t actually been sleeping much that night; you were unaware of his watchful eye as he looked over his shoulder at you. Subconsciously you knew something was different (still convinced you were in your own bed), a comforting wall of warmth bleeding in through the thin cotton of your tank top. He rolled his head back to face his side, eye growing heavier as he finally succumbed to sleep. When he woke a few hours later your spot was empty and cool, rumpled sheets slightly flipped back being the only indication that you’d been there.

A new thing started happening where you faced your front to him, inching closer to his bulky form. You’d ungracefully throw an arm over his waist, hot and clammy palm spreading over his abs. Sometimes, you’d swear a larger hand covered yours with a quick squeeze. But the thought never registered for longer than a second, sweet unconsciousness beckoning you soon after. Those nights his curiosity got the better of him, and he wondered what you looked like up close while you slept. As he turned under the weight of your arm still flung over him, he was met with your face half stuffed into the pillow, mouth open with a thin layer of drool dampening the pillowcase. As he adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, your body stirred and one of your eyes cracked open to stare back at him. He’d thought your focus would be foggy but you looked deep into him, down to his very bones. You held his gaze for what felt like hours under the calm nothingness that only existed during a night faring the seas, before you promptly sat up and hastened to exit the room as you always did; this time forgetting to grab the shorts and bra you’d carelessly tossed.

You knew he was aware of what you were doing but for some reason you couldn’t stop it from happening, and he wouldn’t stop you from doing it. You rationalized that the only reason he allowed it to continue was because he was just as intoxicated, sake vapors always permeating his clothes. It remained an unspoken thing between the two of you, the only acknowledgment being an amused look from him every time you took that first gulp of whiskey.

You wondered how no one else seemed to know, you weren’t exactly quiet anytime you stumbled into the men’s quarters. But then again they all slept like logs and you always managed to slip away before the sun could peak over the horizon.

Tonight was your birthday, and contrary to popular belief, you tended not to drink as much on this day, wanting to fully experience the joy and laughter with your beloved crew. A few glasses of bubbly and maybe a shot or two here and there, but not enough to put you on your ass.

Zoro had a good sense of your drinking habits, so he could tell you weren’t going as hard as usual. He wondered whether or not you’d be joining him in his bed tonight, seeing as how your mostly sober mind could possibly hold you back. His eye caught yours as it always did. Your skin was warm and glowing, cheeks puffed up from the ever-present grin plastered upon your face. It took Usopp, knocking into you and spilling his drink onto your shirt, to finally pull your attention away from Zoro as you screeched with laughter, chasing the sniper around the deck with a handful of cake meant to be smashed into his face.

Things finally wound down to lull as everyone crashed outside under the milky glow of the moon. Zoro looked around but couldn’t find you or either of the other girls anywhere, and deduced that you’d all probably left together. Oh well. Looks like he’d have the room to himself. Throwing Luffy’s arm off his cheek, he dusted off his pants and made his way back inside. His heavy footfalls echoed throughout the empty halls, wood creaking as the Sunny rocked him along. Finally arriving at his door, a fleeting image of you waiting in his bed, curled up under his sheets, crossed his mind. He quickly shook it off, knocking it back towards the huge pile of other non crew-like thoughts he had of you, and opened the door. Instead he was greeted by an empty bed, and as he closed the door, he quickly stripped himself of his clothes, and collapsed onto the mattress.

As you stood outside the door to the men’s quarters, you cursed yourself for your lack of self control. Your mind had now associated any amount of drinking with sleeping in Zoro’s bed, and that revelation had caused you to lie awake with a mysterious insomnia. After an hour of tossing and turning, your body had gotten up and your feet lead you, seemingly of their own accord, to wherever they wanted. And now here you were at his door, fully cognizant of what you were doing. Your knuckles turned white from your hand’s grip on the doorknob, and you tried to gaslight yourself into believing that you were actually drunker than you thought. This was a perfectly normal thing that you always did.

Pushing the door open you found Zoro in his bed, asleep as always, positioned in a way that was normally reserved for napping. Laying on his back, he looked luminous under the shafts of moonlight filtering through the window. Arm under the pillow behind his head, his bare chest rose and fell in a slow and steady rhythm, his soft snores tumbling from his parted lips. Your chest tensed and you stilled. You hadn’t expected him to look like that . Normally he was more of a misshapen lump under the blankets, but tonight his body looked almost as if it was offering an invitation to you. You tiptoed closer, using a few moments to take him in. With sheets rumpled at his waist, you had a clear view of his torso, which rippled with bunches of muscles beneath the skin. His jawline was as sharp as ever, head tipped back to reveal a clear line between it and his neck. He was so achingly handsome it made you gasp, chest tightening even more as you wondered how the hell you’d survived sleeping next to him during the past few months without melting completely through the floor. Liquor really did seem to have a dulling effect on your nerves. After a quick mental battle of building up your nerve, you finally lifted the covers and slipped beneath them, inching closer and closer until you were almost touching. After a few moments of admiring the wrinkle between his thin brows, you settled more comfortably into the pillow and finally dozed off.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour long nap before your dreams melted away. Something was different. You’d fallen asleep on your stomach but instead of a firm mattress beneath you, you were angled on your side and there was a portion of a body pressed against your chest. You wiggled your fingers and felt the taut skin of someone’s pec, and your leg was thrown over the large, corded muscle of someone’s thigh. This couldn’t be right. You didn’t have any current situationships on your roster that justified this level of intimacy. Embarrassingly, your body wanted to welcome the comfort with little resistance. But your mind and your body were always at war, and your flight instincts kicked in as you planned to rip yourself away and slink on back to your room. But just before you could remove yourself completely, a heavy arm you hadn’t realized was around your waist pulled you back against him. You looked up to see a mirthful smirk and a steely eye peering at you.

“Done using me like a hunk of meat?”

“What?” You croaked, heart anchoring into your gut.

“You’re cutting our time short, usually you stay longer than this,” he continued with a poke at your side, grinning like he’d finally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. And perhaps he had.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came here tonight. I’m not even that drunk.”

“Yeah that’s the problem, you only seem to come around when you’re drunk.”

Your mind whirled in confusion. Was that what this was about? Did you give the impression that you didn’t enjoy his company in any capacity other than when alcohol was involved?

“Zoro, I’m sorry if that’s how this is coming across, I don’t mean that at all, of course I like being around you-“

Your frantic excuses were cut short by his amused chuckle.

“You’re making this too easy. I knew it was gonna be worth it, messing with you tonight.”

His toothy grin irked your spirit and you thumped his chest in retaliation. Of course that’s where this was going, this was Zoro. Annoyingly perceptive and slightly mischievous, despite what most people thought of him.

“Why haven’t you told me to leave then? After all these months?”

“To be fair I did the first time, but you kept arguing that I’d actually snuck into your bed.”

The faint memory was promptly squished back into the deepest parts of your mind.

“Well…you still allowed it to continue. Why?”

He hummed as he scratched his chin, pretending to ponder.

“Dunno. Figured you had a reason.”

“What possible reason could that have been?”

Zoro’s arm, still around your waist, pulled you closer as he turned onto his side to face you. The dip in his tone made your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Figured you wanted something from me.”

Breath caught in your lungs as to what he was implying.

“Like what?”

His brow arched with a knowing look, slipping a leg between your own and lifting yours higher around his waist.

“Something I’ve been wanting to give to you. If you want it.”

His eyes bore into yours, waiting for your next move. You hesitated a few beats before finally wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face closer.

“I want this,” you sighed, brushing your lips with his.

He smiled against yours, pulling you tighter.

“Finally.”

The kiss that followed was like an ocean storm, knocking you off balance in its undertow. The groan that settled in his chest sparked electricity in your veins, causing you to whimper. Your tongue met the seam of his lips and he curled his own around it, guiding and tangling them together. The sound of your lips smacking was unseemly, but you accepted it as proof that this was actually happening. Your mouths soon parted to catch your breaths, chests heaving in unison.

“Zoro…”

He grunted in response as he rolled you onto your back, groin settled against yours. You could feel the bulge of his arousal rub against your center, and your leg that had been draped over his waist remained hooked around him. His hand next to your head gripped the sheets as his mouth descended upon your lips once again, the hand on your waist pressed more firmly and made up and down motions against your skin. He caught your bruised bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, sucking it into his mouth until there was nothing left to give. You let out a whine and he moved to the side of your face, pressing his lips to your ear.

“I wanna keep hearing that tonight, you saying my name like that.”

Not waiting for your reply, his teeth came out to bite harshly into your earlobe. You yelped, helplessly rocking your hips against his. His thigh slid further between your legs until it met your wetness at your center, nudging to provide a place for you to grind against. His mouth continued to do sinful things to your neck and collarbones, taking note of which spots got you to squirm wriggle against him.

Eventually the hand massaging your ribs slipped under the hem of you shirt, lifting it up to expose your breasts. Wanting to see them before he felt them, he stopped himself from giving your pulse point another nibble to look at you properly. The unwavering inspection had you feeling shy as you made a move to pull your shirt back down.

“Don’t do that,” he ordered, grabbing your wrist to stop you, slamming it back down into the mattress.

Your chest continued to heave as you tried to quell your insecurities, hoping that he liked what he saw. Seemingly reading your mind, he tsked loudly.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Huh?” You balked at him, utterly dumbfounded. That was definitely not the response you could’ve ever predicted to receive for providing him with a full display of your tits.

“You know how hard it’s been for me, letting you leave all of those nights?”

You had no reply prepared but it didn’t matter, any possible words would’ve failed you as his mouth latched onto your breast, tongue licking playfully at your nipple.

“Even watching you drool all over my pillows and snoring in my ear couldn’t stop me from wanting you.”

Annoyance tickled your temple, even as he sucked on the underside of your breast.

“I may have drooled once or twice but I definitely don’t snore.”

He looked up with a smile showing all 32 of his teeth before replacing his mouth with his hand to rub his thumb softly against the pebbled nub. A surprised gasp broke free from your lips. Sometimes you wondered if you were the type of person who could cum just from your nipples being stimulated. Maybe one day you’d test that theory.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side, unable to argue with all of his pinching and prodding. His hand reached over to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.

“Stop being difficult or I won’t give you your present.”

Your teeth clicked with the force of your mouth snapping shut, making him snicker.

“Is that all it takes to get you to listen to me?”

“Yeah if that’s what’s always being offered. I can be good for that.”

“Hm. Greedy.”

“I’m allowed to be, it’s my birthday.”

His fingers smushed your cheeks together, but he made no move of keeping you waiting as his mouth continued it’s journey down your body, sucking on your skin and biting the softness of your tummy. Slowly he peeled down your sleep shorts, discarding them into the darkness. Immediately your knees knocked together but he pulled them apart to stare intensely at the large wet patch in your panties. This time you felt pride as you watched his mouth go slack, his eye flitting back up to meet yours, dark with desire. He hadn’t thought it would be this easy to get you worked up like this, you were normally so stubborn about everything . If only you knew what this was doing for his ego.

As he bent down to bite into the plushness of your thighs, you sat up to enjoy the visual of his face nuzzled between your legs. You’d never seen him look sexier than when he glanced back up at you, intense eye contact stealing your breath once more. He nudged his nose against the covered lips of your pussy and gave it a sniff, an unexpected moan rumbling in his throat.

“Fuck. Never imagined you’d smell this good.”

You were left speechless as he removed your panties, finally exposing you to the cool air. You gasped as his tongue poked out to taste the juices leaking between your lips, and your head fell back down as you whimpered. One of his hands kept your hips firmly in place while the other crawled up to resume dragging his fingers across your nipples.

His tongue curled along the seam of your entrance, serving him another moan of his name and a firm grip on his hair. Not being able to hold his composure, he dragged your body closer to drape your legs over his shoulders.

“You know, if you were thinking this was gonna be a one time thing, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”

“Stop being mean,” you sighed, pulling his head closer to your untended wetness, “get on with my present now.”

His mouth kicked up into a smirk before he brought it back against you, tongue chasing the leaking juices before stuffing them back inside. Your nails clawed his scalp as he hummed against your clit, his tongue making practiced and precise traces along the bud. You were briefly brought back to a conversation you’d had with Robin where you wondered if the power that it took to fight with a sword in his mouth resulted in his tongue developing an unusual strength. As his tongue bullied it’s way inside and along your walls, you concluded that it had to be true, and you gave thanks to his three-sword style as if it had provided a favor specifically for you.

Zoro’s senses were saturated with the essence of you. Your plump thighs squeezed his head deliciously as he fucked you slowly with his mouth. Your hand gripping his hair made him growl, rubbing his face further between your legs, groaning at your continuous whines dancing in his ears. You were so wet, clenching around his tongue, he had to reach a hand into his boxers just to bring himself some relief. He was unbearably hard and the more your hips bucked in time with his movements, the more he had to squeeze himself at the base just to keep himself at bay. Thankfully, you seemed interested in watching him work, your half-lidded eyes and pouty, kiss-swollen lips being any indication. He liked performing for you, and silently praised your bold approval.

His hand still played with your nipples, and every swipe of the pad of his thumb had your hips jumping so fiercely, he knew he’d have to file that away for later. But now you were moving too much, and he had a job to finish. Taking both of your thighs still hanging over his shoulders in his hands, he folded your body in half so that all you could do was lie there and take everything he gave to you. His tongue, still darting in and out of you at a steady pace, began making languid swipes along your clit. Your panting became louder as he continued his teasing, sucking one of your lips into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

“Zoro…Zoro…please don’t stop. Please.”

You were begging now, and that was good. He’d oblige you, of course. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he provided a combination of licks and suction, working in tandem as your whimpers climbed louder and more breathless until finally, everything crashed. You came into his mouth with a throaty wail, body convulsing in his hold. He continued to lap at your juices as you shuddered with aftershocks, steadily coming down with a weak whine. You eventually settled down with a sigh and he released your thighs, causing your lower half to flop back onto the mattress. You sat in silence still panting and spent, spread-eagle with him kneeling between your legs. You cracked your eyes open to look at him, shaking your head.

“You are an absolute demon.”

He grinned smugly in reply, fingers swiping along your lower lips.

“I didn’t hear any complaints.”

Zoro’s dick cried for attention, and he was normally too disciplined to be led by it. But as he pulled it free from his briefs and used your slick to lube himself up, he was thankful that tonight he was going to indulge. He stroked himself lazily, looking up when he heard your soft gasp.

“Fuck…me.”

You’d let the words slip before you could scoop them back into your mouth. The sight you were met with went absolutely mad, beyond your wildest imagination. Here was Zoro, big, wide, and powerful, looming over you with the muscles of his bicep flexing as he jerked himself to the sight of you. His face was still insufferably smug as he kept his pace.

“You good?”

“Hm.”

Your lack of reaction had him quirking his eyebrow, curious as to whether or not you had met your limit and were ready to conclude the evening.

“We can stop now if you want to-“

“I thought it was still my birthday?”

Both of Zoro’s eyebrows rose as your energy seemed to return and you watched him intently, hand still wrapped around himself. You sat up on your elbows and licked your lips before giving him those shiny, doe eyes.

“I want the rest of my present now,” you pouted.

It was Zoro’s turn to be speechless as you grabbed his waist and forced him to lie back down over you.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” you murmured, sliding his briefs down to give his ass a squeeze. The movement had him bucking forward, his hand finally ripped away from his dick to catch himself from dropping all of his weight onto you. You continued tugging his underwear down until he leaned on his side and slid them off, flinging them aside. His free hand grabbed your shirt still bunched above your chest, and roughly slipped it over your head, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. He brought a hand to you hip and slid it down slowly to your thigh, hooking it once more around his waist as he settled back over you.

“Still got time to back out sweetheart.”

Your chest stuttered as you felt him poke at your entrance. You carded a hand back into his hair while the other touched his cheek, thumb tracing his lips. You were so caught in the moment, your feeble mind unable to focus on anything other than him. The feel of his strong body against yours, his veiny cock gliding smoothly between your pussy lips, his head turning slightly into your hand, giving it a whisper of a kiss. You were too far gone.

“Zoro…”

“Tell me what you need.”

You brought your mouth to his for a long, soft kiss before you looked back up at him. God, you were so pretty. Maybe he was kinder than he thought because in that moment he would’ve given you absolutely anything.

“I want you to give me everything,” you said, and he was convinced you’d read his mind.

He released a breath and guided himself into you, squeezing his eye shut as he felt the immediate squeeze. You were still so wet from his spit and your own arousal, but your walls were tight as he hadn’t used his fingers to stretch you. You didn’t seem to mind as you pulled him close, and he shallowly pumped himself in and out, going slightly deeper with every roll of his hips. You relaxed more against him and it became easier for him to slip inside; you opened up so nicely for him. Your hips rose to meet his careful thrusts, and before he knew it he was completely and snugly sheathed inside you.

He’d underestimated how warm and tight you’d be, even after your initial orgasm from earlier. He had to stop and catch his breath, panting in your ear as he willed his body to calm down. It wouldn’t due for him to cut this prematurely. You were looking to get thoroughly fucked and he was the only one who was going to give it to you how you wanted. After he was done with you you’d never be able to crawl into anyone else’s bed ever again. He was going to mold your pussy so only he could fit.

You hadn’t stopped moaning since his hips connected with yours, and you began clawing at his back, begging him to move. Your body was hot and wound tight as if you hadn’t just cum earlier. He finally lifted his head from the crook of your neck and slipped a hand beneath your body to press it up to his.

“You gonna be good for me?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, limbs turning to goo.

Giving you another quick kiss, he shoved inside you and lost any last dredges of sanity. You felt unbelievable, gripping his cock in a way that wouldn’t let go. His hand sandwiched beneath you grabbed your ass, giving him leverage to slam back into you. His breath came out in heavy pants as he built a bruising pace, grunting and groaning into your ear.

Your hand still pulled at his hair while the other held onto his bicep. The force of his thrusts made your whole body bounce up towards the headboard, and the rhythmic squeaks of the bed were embarrassingly loud. You hoped nobody had woken up in search of the room you both were defiling. Your pussy ached and fluttered against him as he fucked you, his stomach flexing with every grind of his hips. He was so brutal and so mean you were sure he was going to put a hole through the mattress. Suddenly he dropped your leg and pinned both of your wrists above your head.

“Wrap your legs around me sweetheart.”

God, what could you do besides follow that voice? So sinful that it gnawed at your spine. You wrapped both your legs around his waist, and his thrusts became more slow and rough.

“You gonna keep taking it?”

“Ye-ah.”

He pressed you further down into the mattress, your endless stream of moans becoming stilted from the force of his pounding.

“You gonna let me keep stretching this pussy out?”

“Please,” you pleaded, eyes watering as he plowed away at you.

You were so pliant for him, allowing him to use you as he pleased. He was going to batter your pussy red until it was swollen. Taking both of your wrists in one hand, he rested his other around your throat.

“Yeah?” He prompted, asking for permission.

“Fuck Zoro , please, ” you begged, all stubbornness and shame flying out the window. He was going to be insufferable when he was finished with you, your right mind was already dreading it.

“I knew you were a nasty girl,” he smirked, squeezing lightly at the sides of your throat. Despite his obvious strength, his discipline helped him hold back when he needed to. Obviously he’d never seriously hurt you.

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you whined as he continued to slam into you. His grip tightened as he leaned down to press his forehead to yours.

“Turn around and get on your knees for me.”

The growl in his voice made you wetter, and you squeezed tighter around him. He released your wrists and throat, sitting back up on his knees. His dick slipped out of you and slapped against his stomach, glistening with your slick. Getting a proper look at it, he was just as thick as you’d thought, with a nice curve that was sure to scramble your brains from the new position.

“You gonna keep drooling over it or are you gonna let me fuck you properly?”

“You are such a dreadful man, I didn’t drool!”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he sighed with impatience, grabbing your arms and manhandling you onto your stomach. You whined and cursed into the pillow while grabbing another to stuff under your hips. Keeping your weight on your elbows, you pushed your hips back, making a nice pretty arch for him. His palm met your ass with a loud smack, and you felt his teeth take a bite at your cheek.

“You’re the one that’s nasty.”

He tapped his dick against your ass a few times, watching the strings of his precum and your juices coat your skin.

“Yeah.”

Without any warning he shoved himself back inside you, covering your back with his body and pressing his palm into your lower back to deepen your arch. You continued to wail into your pillow as you shoved your ass back against him. He nuzzled his head along your shoulder and neck, cooing condescendingly in your ear.

“Aw, I know. The big bad man keeps treating you mean.”

“So mean,” you hiccuped, dragging out the end of the word as he picked back up his brutal pace. The slapping of his skin against yours was abhorrent, and absolutely erotic. You felt your thighs jiggle as he slammed his hips, the curve of his dick dragged along your walls, carving a space for himself inside you. The head suddenly bumped against that soft, fleshy patch inside, and you keened. This was gonna be it for you.

“Zoro…I can’t. I can’t hold on for much longer.”

He took sympathy on you as he licked and sucked at the back of your neck, hands fisting the sheets as his body continued to climb with yours.

“It’s alright, you can let go. You’ve been so good for me. My good girl.”

His words had you squeezing him so tight he thought he would choke, a stream of moans and curses escaping your lips as the pressure built tighter and tighter. One of your hands came down to circle your clit, fingers slipping over the absolute mess covering your pussy. You gave a few more weak grinds against his hips before everything snapped and you caved, orgasm pulling at every last one of your nerve endings, down to your toes.

Your cries were in time with the pattering of his hips, and he sat back on his knees to watch the ripples of your ass as it connected with his pelvis. You were such a messy, crumpled heap against the pillow, and you’d never looked more beautiful. His body begged him to let go and release, and he was going to listen to it.

“Where do you want me to cum?” His voice was strained, panting and breathless as if he’d been in a harsh battle. God you were really wearing him out.

“Inside,” you said weakly, voice muffled by the pillow you’d stuffed your face into. He chuckled to himself. You were always so greedy.

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” he teased, still managing to be a shit while his threads unraveled.

With great difficulty he pulled himself from inside you, your walls still trying to drag him back inside with a weak grip. Taking his cock in one hand, he looked at your ass still raised in the air, and pumped furiously until his will broke and he spilled, long ropes of cum painting your ass and your back.

His body collapsed on top of yours, knocking the wind out of you. You allowed him a few seconds to catch his breath as he groaned into your skin before you whined at him to get off. With a tired sigh he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. You followed his lead, wiping the sweat from your face.

“I can’t believe. You just fucked me like that.”

He gave a half chuckle and glanced over at you.

“Hey I was just giving you what you wanted.”

You bit your lip as you stared back at him.

“Yeah, you did.”

He went to grab the sheets that had been kicked aside, and pulled you against him for a spoon.

“Zoro,” you protested, attempting to free yourself from his grip, “I can’t stay here. I’m sweaty, I’m gross, I’m covered in cum. Someone will find us.”

“I’ll wake up before anyone gets back,” he mumbled, pulling you closer until your back was flush against him.

“But my clothes, I’ll never find them under that sea of junk.”

“Just wear mine.”

“But…”

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Any strength left in your limbs depleted as he kept a boa-tight hold around your middle. His soft breaths fluttered against your ear, and you knew he had already slipped into sleep.

Tired and weak, you snuggled back into the curve of his body, pulling the blankets up to your chin as you allowed your final moments of consciousness slip away.

You prayed that no one had turned up to the other side of that door.

[hinamie]

So remember me in a softer light

[justaz]

thinkin…………..arthur gets injured and is being treated by gaius and merlin but he’s awake and gets to see firsthand this competent and serious merlin that meets his gaze constantly and arthur notices the fear and terror in his eyes that he forces back to heal him. thinkin…….merlin being his nurse while he heals and not leaving his bedside in fear of infections settling in while he’s gone and loosing arthur in such a simple way. arthur constantly wakes to a hand carding thru his hair or caressing his cheeks. thinkin………….merlin holding arthur’s head in his lap as he spoon feeds him broth. gaius rolling his eyes and leaving the room bc he and merlin and arthur all know he can sit up and feed himself but merlin leaves his fingers on arthur’s pulse and breathes in sync with him while arthur stares up at him like he hung the moon and the stars and carries the air into his lungs and squeezes his heart to pump his blood.

[cheer-nympho]

The older kids all have wills.

Nancy, Robin, Steve and Jonathan, ages 18 to 21, all have wills tucked away in various boxes under beds and behind wardrobes.

Their similarities only extending to the fear felt when writing them, mixed with resigned acceptance. A common feeling of “Man, it sure is sad that my late teenage years are spent contemplating the very real possibility of gruesome early death, I should be at the club.”

But in every other aspect they are completely different.

Nancy’s was written on a cream notepad with dainty flowers surrounding the border. Written from a view of logic and forward planning, a need to protect her family. All of the demands straight to the point, no nonsense.

Warped only by the small tear stains across the bottom.

Robin’s was clearly written in a panic, barely legible handwriting on a ripped off lined sheet.

Written after she read an article about a man whose boyfriend was refused access to him after his death because there was no will.

She refused to leave anyone in the dark like that.

Jonathan’s was the most emotional, surprisingly. But most of that emotion was palpable anger, the word “nothing” pressed so hard into the yellow paper next to Lonnies name it had almost ripped the page.

Even if it was the last thing he did, Jon would keep Lonnie away from them.

Steves was written begrudgingly, more out of a need to prevent his parents from tossing it all. They weren’t around to know about Robin or the kids, wouldn’t know he’d promised Lucas the car or Max his records.

They weren’t evil people, they just didn’t know. This way they would.

They hadn’t spoken about it in advance, hadn’t co-ordinated it or hidden them together like a morbid friendship pact. They had all just at some point come to the realisation that, given their current lives, it may one day be necessary.

Eddie had not had that thought.

Eddie Munson had many thoughts.

He had thoughts on the disease of pop music sweeping the last worthwhile radio station, he had thoughts on the price increases in his favourite gaming store in Indy, he had thoughts on selling enough stock to buy a new trailer gas canister.

What he very rarely had thoughts on was death.

It took a lot for him to say that these days, considering where he’d been not too many years ago. But these days the only thoughts on death he had were more abstract and fleeting, nothing more than the average schmuck.

And even if the thought would have crossed his mind, he would have shrugged it off with a ‘Wayne knows what to do.’

He had no other family and, as far as Eddie was concerned, nothing particularly valuable to single out to anyone. He may need one of the guys to burn the shoebox hidden under his bed, but that could be a more verbal agreement between bros.

So Eddie didn’t have a will.

Didn’t have a plan, didn’t have the worry.

And it’s not until he’s lying on his back, being cradled by a child that frankly should not have to see the insides of Eddies stomach, that he remembers that.

It rushes to him in a panic, the thoughts feeling slow and syrupy but in reality only taking a split second.

He needed to write a will.

He needed Wayne to know that Eddie /wanted/ him to have everything, not just given it by family rights.

He needed to write Dustin in, and Corroded Coffin, maybe even some random shit for all the other nerds.

A donation to Hawkins Church to really confuse them, not that Eddie would be leaving any money behind. Maybe they could have his guitar.

When he got back he would write it up on the finest non-scrunched up paper he could find.

When he got back he would take care of it all.

But that was a job for later Eddie, right now he really needed to sleep.

He could see Dustin crying above him but that was okay, he’d take care of it when he woke up.

When he wakes up he’ll take care of it all.

When he wakes up he’ll write his will.

When he wakes up.

[mangostarjam]

double trouble — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader x narumi gen, established relationship, shameless smut, creampies, praise kink, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, reader is called "cutie" and "pretty girl", 1.4k words

"Pay attention to me," Narumi Gen rasps in your ear.

"I'm — can't —" you whine, back bowing as he pinches your nipples, breath hitching in your chest, "Captain — Soshiro —"

Hoshina Soshiro doesn't let up, digging his fingers a little harder into that sweet spot inside you, the clear evidence of your desire inching down his wrist. His eyes glint in the dim light of the office. "What was that, cutie? Ya want more?"

"Ye—no!"

But you're too late. Soshiro's tongue circles your clit with precision, his low groan vibrating along your nerves and twisting them tighter. "Fuck," Gen's voice is rough, his hands harsh as he squeezes your tits, "get off her. She's gotta cum on a cock."

Soshiro pulls away and scissors his fingers inside you at the same time, snickering when you jolt against Gen's chest. "And who's doing the honors this time, Captain?"

You whimper as he presses into you again, the honey sweet drip of arousal thick in your veins as your focus narrows back down to Soshiro's fingers. Down to… Gen's fingers. Gen's — he's reaching down, a calloused pad scraping lightly at your clit as he drags it through your folds, jostling Soshiro's wrist impatiently.

"Well, pretty girl? Think you've been good enough for me?"

You can't — you don't know —

Soshiro kisses you and you melt into it immediately, ignoring the taste of yourself on his tongue in favor of chasing every soft quiet sigh escaping his lips. Behind you, you're dimly aware of Gen shuffling and shifting, the warmth of his chest pressing comfortingly into your back as he sheds his shirt and jacket and pants. His hands are firm on your waist as he lifts you with ease, dislodging Soshiro's fingers from your pussy only to replace them with the head of his cock.

"Hah — oh, f-fuck, C-Captain," you stutter, mind going blank as Gen fills your aching cunt. He's thick and hard and he gives you about two seconds to adjust before he's lifting you up and rolling his hips, his teeth catching at one of the bruises he's already littered along your shoulders.

Your beloved office napping couch creaks as Gen fucks you. The harsh slap of skin on skin fills the room as you clench down on his cock and moan. Soshiro swallows some of it down but he's diverted, hands cupping your tits as you bounce on the captain's cock, eyes watching you reverently as your expression twists with pleasure. Gen's grip on you is relentless, moving you exactly how he wants as he braces his feet against the floor to go deeper and harder and faster.

"Ya better cum soon, Captain," Soshiro drawls, but his voice is low and rough. "Our girl's not gonna last much longer."

Gen grunts. "Shut up, bowl cut. I wanna hear her when she loses it."

The ache in your gut is unbearable. Your fingers clench uselessly at Gen's wrists, trying to stay grounded as he pounds into you, to hold back the babbling nonsense running through your mind as he presses his lips softly to the spot just below your ear.

"Oh, oh no, no, Capt— Gen — no please, please," but then everything goes white.

"Good fucking girl."

You feel his cock pulse inside you, the thick gobs of cum coating your walls, the thundering beat of his heart against your back as he slumps with you into the couch. You turn your head blindly, sighing as Gen kisses you loose and easy and sweet.

And then it's Soshiro's hands on your waist, his easy strength lifting you off Gen's slowly softening cock, his quick smile as he lays you out properly on the couch and settles between your legs. The top of your head bumps against Gen's thigh but he doesn't move, merely rests his palm against your cheek instead. Soshiro reaches for your ankles.

Cum dribbles out of your fluttering pussy and he scoops it back in, laughing under his breath as you squeak and squirm. "Are ya payin' attention?"

"S-Soshiro wait, I just —"

His cock slides in with a loud, messy noise, filling you so abruptly and fully you choke on a breath as pleasure shoots sharp up your spine. "Tsk, tsk," Soshiro props your ankles on his shoulders and leans forward, pressing into you as you keen. "Look at ya gettin' all sloppy on my cock."

He pulls back and you feel a thick drip of cum sliding out of your folds. Embarrassment and desire twists in your gut as he pushes back into you, fucking Gen's cum in and out of you, fucking you senseless with every thrust. "Pay attention, cutie," Soshiro murmurs, voice cracking as you clench pathetically around his cock. "Ya feel so fucking good. 'm not gonna last."

You scramble for something to hold and Soshiro releases your ankles, lets your legs fall open as he laces your hands together, nearly chokes on his own surprised groan as you wrap your legs around his trim waist to keep him as close as possible. "Gonna cum," you admit quietly, squeezing his hands.

Soshiro blinks down at you, his lopsided grin flashing one sharp fang as he rolls his hips in that way you like, nudging his cock along every sensitive inch of your walls. "Yeah?"

"Hurry it up, Vice Captain." Gen pinches your nipple and grins down at you. "We've got all night and I want another turn."

"You'll kill me," you breathe. Soshiro's thrusts get a little more pointed. He huffs.

"He's just mad I've scraped out all his cum," Soshiro leans close and murmurs in your ear, "and you're a greedy lil thing, aren'tcha? Ya sure clenched tight about that. Ya want Captain Narumi again?"

Desperately you shake your head, legs tightening further around his waist. "Just you, Soshiro, just want your cum now —"

Soshiro grins, sharp and crooked, and then settles his teeth against your neck as he cums with a low groan. You whimper as his cock kicks inside you, filling you up even as he reaches down to rub quick, dirty circles around your clit, sending you hurtling over the edge to clamp around him even more.

After a moment he soothes the new mark on your skin with a careful swipe of his tongue and then leans up to kiss you properly, brushing your sweat soaked hair out of your face. Gen whistles low. "That's gonna stain."

"My couch," you whisper, mortified, blinking up as two sets of eyes settle back on you. The pounding of your pulse is loud in your ears. "We'll have to burn my couch."

Soshiro laughs and Gen rolls his eyes fondly. "Don't worry, we'll get you a new one."

"A stain resistant one."

"We cannot keep doing this," you breathe, giggling helplessly when both men snort. The pleasure-filled haze lifts slowly as your brain reboots. "Captain! Vice Captain! This is the third couch this month!"

Gen shrugs. "Quit working so late at night and we can fuck on a real bed."

"Oh, as if either of you go to bed before midnight," you complain. "You're both worse than I am!"

"Speakin' of beds," Soshiro says, "are ya gonna let go of me, cutie, or am I gonna hafta carry ya?"

Your legs tighten around his waist and you blink up at him innocently when he hisses. "I'm just trying not to spill any more cum."

"Bathroom before bed," Soshiro mutters, somehow hoisting you up and off the couch. Strong hands grip your thighs as you squeak and tighten around him at the sudden shift in gravity. A thick drop of cum hits the floor.

Your eyes widen. "Hurry!"

Gen grumbles under his breath but follows the two of you down the hall to your bathroom, holding you up steadily as Soshiro wipes at the insides of your thighs with a wet cloth. It's not quite midnight yet, but you're two long blinks away from falling asleep standing up, so both men maneuver the three of you into a quick shower and then into your bed across the hall.

"Pay attention to me," Gen mutters, tugging you into his arms. Soshiro settles behind you, dragging the blankets over the three of you and draping an arm over your waist. "Next time I wanna go second."

"But I was good for you," you murmur, pressing your lips against his collarbone.

"You're always good for us," Soshiro says quietly. His chest is warm against your back.

Gen kisses your forehead.

"Our good girl."

[causeimanartist]

Over it

[sunnymainecoonx]

How many people witnessed softie food addict horror who needed something in his mouth or he would actively kill and turn to cannibalism 🧍‍♀️ or was that just me.... anyways honestly it was silly.. he'd maybe get along with cook horror... I just like fanon crossovers guys*sadge

Anyways canon horror is also silly(really silly. What an asshole, man)(no seriously he's actually such an asshole.. I might love him for that but-) I don't think he would get along with the others(loser)

[hauntingofhouses]

they literally got rid of her eye bags and under-eye dark circles and made her cheeks fuller and more flushed along with her letting her hair down... to show how happy she was on the farm...

[shorthaltsjester]

you ever think about vex and percy being so stand-offish and snarky to vox machina but vex being the first one to call them all family and percy cushioning scanlan’s leaving by reminding them they are a family, and percy quietly confessing to grog that it’s nice to have an older brother again? you ever think about the fact that percy and vex, members of a party that — except on rare occasions — existed as a group of seven, had five kids?

[oifaaa]

Honestly think it'd be hilarious if people brought the same energy they use on hating Dick for "giving robin to Damian" to the actual person who made Damian robin you know this motherfucker

[onelastsailxr]

I worked on my slightly longer poolverine fanfic the last few days and I just have to share this thought I might write into the story!!

So what if they will be separated for a bit and like in the movie with Rogue, Logan gives his dog tags to Wade. You know, telling him he will come back for them.

And Wade being so emotional about it, that he wants to give Logan something too. But he doesn't have a lot to himself so he takes his Adventure Time watch off his wrist and puts it on Logan's.

And Logan's first reaction is like wtf? But he keeps it on and cherishes it nonetheless, because Wade might be a man-child but Logan also gets that his intention comes from the heart.

[girlsdads]

https://www.tumblr.com/girlsdads/762007245755170816

It looks like daniel is peeing

em!!! you put this in my brain and i promptly had a crisis, so of course i had to give Max that same crisis, and somehow this became 1.3k 🫡

cw: (consensual?) voyeurism, romanticized peeing

Practice gets red-flagged early on. Max doesn’t see who is in the barrier as he slowly passes, just knows it isn’t Daniel. He’d been assured of that down his radio almost instantly, though he hadn’t asked. He thinks it must be team protocol to tell him this, that it’s not his teammate in the totaled car. Still, Max flushes bone-deep, feeling too exposed, too obvious. Feeling like they know, everyone must know, his brain turns to goop around Daniel and he never catches himself in time.

He trails Daniel to his driver’s room anyway, knowing how it looks. Daniel grins over his shoulder at Max, starts skipping ahead, makes Max chase him. Warmth blooms in Max’s belly. He may be always following behind Daniel, but Daniel is always looking back.

Daniel shrugs his race suit off his shoulders, lets it hang open around his trim waist. The humidity has stamped dark patches on his white fireproofs where he’s started to sweat through. Max closes the door behind himself and stands there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say that will make Daniel laugh, trying not to make direct eye contact with Daniel’s sweaty armpits, lest he shove Daniel against the wall and stick his nose there.

What happens instead is much, much worse.

Daniel is making a beeline to the bathroom, thumbs hooking into the elastic over his flat pelvis. Max’s vision tunnels, the air in the room seeming to close in around him with a swoosh.

“What are you doing?” He hears himself ask, stupidly.

It’s obvious what Daniel is doing. He’s shimmying his hips side to side as he nears the toilet, wiggling the Nomex down. He’s left the door wide open. He stops and smiles at Max, blinding. “Gotta drain the snake, as they say.”

Who is saying this other than you, Max wants to shoot back, knows he should match Daniel’s cheeky tone, rib him a little then leave the fucking room like a normal person. He hears the wet pop of his own bottom lip dropping open, feels the weight of the words against his larynx, but is struck completely dumb watching Daniel pull out his flushed, soft cock.

Max has of course seen Daniel’s dick before, it would probably be more weird if he hadn’t, like he was purposely trying not to. But the handful of other times have only been glimpses in his periphery, nothing like this. Like this, close range and staring openly because Daniel knows Max is there and still he didn’t close the door, Max can see everything.

The double-stacked waistband of his briefs and fireproofs is tucked up snug under his balls. Max can see where the dark, stubbly hairs are starting to grow back, on his sac and around the base of his cock. Daniel has joked before, about manscaping, but to see the evidence of it like this is dizzying. Max wants to go to his knees and pull each ingrown hair free with his teeth.

Daniel holds himself loosely in his left hand, the ruddiness of his shaft clearly visible through the gaps between knucklebones. The head is peeking out past the circle of his index finger and thumb, fat and flushed a little darker than the rest of him. Even soft, his cock looks heavy and full. Max’s mouth floods with saliva and he sucks it back with his cheeks pinched in, hoping Daniel won’t hear the wet slurp.

His skin feels hot. He’s stuck like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun, his insides incinerating as he watches an arc of piss flow from the gorgeous tip of Daniel’s cock, noisily splashing into the bowl.

Daniel groans, his chin bobbing down toward his chest like someone cut the string that was holding his head upright. Piss hisses out of him, harder now, like he’s pushing it. It is so loud and the walls are thin—anyone lingering nearby must be able to hear, to know. Max wishes he could put up a forcefield, shelter them both inside where only Max can hear the sounds Daniel’s body makes.

It is all over so quickly. The stream trickles to a stop and then Daniel is shaking off the last little dribbles before he’s tucking himself away. Max feels a pang in his chest like grief—he hadn’t finished mentally cataloguing every angle of this moment, needs the image 3D printed into his brain so he can remember forever. Daniel will probably never speak to him again after this, will certainly not let Max anywhere near his bare cock once he turns and sees—Max is hard.

Daniel is shrugging back into the shoulders of his race suit and Max is standing there tenting his own, mortifyingly obvious. Max braces for whatever awkward joke Daniel will try to make to mask his disgust, as he faces Max finally.

He watches Daniel notice. He watches his eyes go slightly bigger and rounder, watches his jaw tick like he’s going to drop it. His gaze feels like a physical weight. Max’s dick throbs once, twice. There is no way Daniel cannot see.

Daniel says nothing, in the end. He smiles at Max, easy as anything, as if Max isn’t a complete freak of nature with a boner from watching his teammate take a piss. He even claps Max on the shoulder as he passes on his way out the door, doesn’t seem to catch how Max sways, knees wobbly, under his touch.

And then Max is alone in Daniel’s driver’s room. Alone and hard and—fuck, a realization burns through him—Daniel didn’t flush.

Max lurches forward before he can stop himself. His foot catches on some part of the floor and he stumbles, nearly going to his knees right there in front of the toilet.

It should be mostly clear, with how they are supposed to be staying hydrated, but apparently Daniel is not doing a very good job. Max has to steady himself with one hand on the wall as he stares down into the bowl, dazed. The water is tinged an unmistakable yellow. It hits Max viscerally, that Daniel has bodily functions and that he did one of those right in front of Max, was comfortable enough to not care if he saw. It’s unbearably intimate in a way that Max can’t think too hard about or he’ll forget how to drive his car, probably. He thinks, wildly, that he wishes he could live inside Daniel’s body, surrounded by all the microscopic things that make him him. He wants to kiss every single one of Daniel’s cells and thank them for keeping him alive.

Even more wildly—he wants to massage his bladder from the inside, tell it he’s sorry it had to get so full, that Daniel should never have to hold it for too long, that he could always if he cannot wait tell Max to go to his knees, and Max would, anywhere, tip his head back and open up for everything Daniel has to give—

Max rips his layers off, feeling frenzied. Elastic stretches around his thighs as he squats lower, his cock now leaking bare over the bowl full of Daniel’s pee. He had foregone underwear earlier, the crotch of his fireproofs now absolutely soaked through with precome. It will be cold and sticky around his cock and balls when he gets back in the car, he will have to drive again and feel it and he will think about Daniel and his dehydrated piss and the sound he made when he let go—

Max comes, shaking, aiming his cock so that it splatters into the bowl, milky white swirling with yellow. Max and Daniel together, like it should be always.

[strangersatellites]

the one with the shacker shirt | more frat king steve x his problem causing bf eddie

a mini collab with @amethyst-crowns !!

it’s a cool friday night and eddie’s two tequila shots, a handful of beers, and a cigarette into his setlist at this point. their dedicated few fans are up front and center scream singing along with them while the rest of the bar is bustling with life.

with drinks being spilled, food being ordered and then forgotten about, sorority girls having deep meaningful talks in the bathroom so long their boyfriends’ forgot they were there.

it’s a friday night at his favorite college bar and eddie is buzzing with energy.

he’s got his guitar slung over his back and he’s taking a beer break, eyes scanning over the room in search of his favorite boy. he’s probably somewhere charming his way into free drinks in a way that never fails to leave eddie laughing and a bit baffled. he gets it though, everybody else is just as wrapped around steve’s finger as he is so he can’t say anything.

he’s talking to the guys, kicking a couple empty cans offstage when he sees them out of the corner of his eye.

two guys, probably eddie’s age, maybe seniors. they’re flagging him over and looking around suspiciously and eddie thinks that if they’re interested in buying, this is an awful strange time to approach him about it.

he’s about to break the news, tell them he’s not selling tonight when one of them smiles and claps his shoulder when he squats down to their height.

“hey man, we don’t want you to get in trouble so we figured we’d tell you before someone else did.” he says with a nod. says it like eddie will catch on, like he’ll know what this is about.

he doesn’t.

he furrows his brows and looks at them, confused. “pardon?”

the second guy tugs at the hem of eddie’s shirt, darts his eyes around conspiratorially again. “you gotta turn this inside out of something, bro. pledges can’t wear letters out until initiation. vp rec will hand you your ass if he hears about it.”

the first guy is all but hissing in his ear in his effort to be quiet. “yeah AND the president’s here, man. we’re just looking out for you.”

eddie glances down at his own chest, realizing for the first time what shirt he grabbed off the back of steve’s desk chair this morning.

it’s not his that’s for sure. it’s definitely his boyfriend’s. big, bold greek letters across the chest. ink peeling off and threadbare around the waist. the arm holes more hole than shirt at this point.

he smiles back up at the guys, finally figuring out what this is about.

he huffs a quiet laugh and his knees crack when he stand back up. he hears gareth mindlessly drumming his sticks against his stool so he knows his break’s over. pulls his guitar back around to his chest and bows.

“well i appreciate your looking out for me, gentlemen. but… i think i’ll take my chances.”

he hears a scoff and a muffled “whatever, man” and a “not my fucking problem, i guess.”

but whatever he’s not paying any attention.

the mic squeals when he walks up to it and he’s got a thousand-watt smile and an apology on his lips immediately after.

“ah shit, sorry, sorry guys- my bad.” he backs up a step and squints against the harsh light, still searching for his boy. “before this next one, i’m looking for someone. baby? baby, where are you? can you come up here sweetheart?”

he looks toward the back of the crowd and sees steve’s bright smile and glassy eyes as he shoulders his way up front. sees how he stops to talk to a few people, say hi, dap up a couple of the guys. but he makes it up the front of the stage in record time given all that, regardless.

“there you are! missed you,” he says before he’s leaving his mic again and dropping down to his knees.

now he’s low enough that steve can tangle a hand in his unruly curls and tug him forward and down. can tug him close enough the he feels his breath against his lips when he whispers “will you play my favorite?”

he knows his own smile is bright as the sun.

“of course, baby.”

when steve kisses him, messy and like he’s putting on a show, eddie can’t help but overhear the “what?” and “oh that’s him?” coming from the side stage.

there are a lot of perks to being steve’s boyfriend. but that response is always one of his favorites.

[leenfiend]

castle lounge redesign :)