#where i will promptly collapse on the couch

[ihni]

Billy Hargrove has been dead for little over two months when Steve opens the door to find him on the doorstep, dirty and pale and shaking. He stares at Steve with wide eyes – bluer than Steve remembers – before he collapses into a heap of dirty limbs halfway across the threshold. Steve pulls him inside, disposes of him in the couch in the living room, and naturally proceeds to freak the fuck out.

After some processing, he decides that he must be experiencing a very vivid dream – and honestly, it’s a welcome change after the usual nightmares – and since it’s merely a dream, he opens a bottle of his dad’s best whiskey, because where’s the harm, right?

An hour later finds Steve sitting on the floor with his back to an armchair, predictably drunk and watching Billy sleep. Or possibly being unconscious. It doesn’t really matter which, since it’s only a dream.

Turns out, though, that it’s not a dream – or if it is, it’s a damn weird one. Because Billy wakes up, and when he looks around the room and spots Steve there, he starts to cry, which. Is not something that Steve’s brain could ever dream up, alcohol-soaked or not. And Billy feels solid enough under Steve’s hand, when he awkwardly pats the other boy’s shaking shoulders.

The events that have taken place are eventually revealed, but make no sense to either of them. Apparently Billy woke up somewhere dark and cramped (the coffin, he doesn’t say, but Steve hears it anyway), promptly panicked, and … broke out, somehow. Dug himself out from the rain-soaked earth, and stumbled along the roads until he saw a house he recognized. Which was Steve’s house.

It’s impossible, Steve knows. Billy has been dead for months. Steve saw him die – had first row seats to the sight of him getting impaled by a monster made out of meat and bones – and coming back from the dead after all that is simply not possible. Yet here Billy is, sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, not a mark on him.

(Literally. There are no marks, no scars. Just smooth skin where they both know he was speared through.)

They spend the rest of the night slowly making their way through Steve’s dad’s expensive whiskey.

In the morning, Billy says, voice hoarse; “I need you to drive me to California.”

Steve thinks of asking why. Thinks of Max, thinks of Billy’s parents, thinks of telling the Party or the police or at least some adult who would possibly know what to do. What he says, though, is “Okay.” The world swims, and he adds, belatedly, “Tomorrow, though. I’m too drunk to drive now.”

A snort is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep where he’s sitting.

~~~

Half the next day is spent nursing hangovers and realizing that nope, last night wasn’t a dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination. The other half is spent making preparations for the trip.

Now when Steve is sober, he revisits the idea to simply tell someone. Billy being back is a miracle, and there are people mourning him, people who has missed him –

Billy shuts that down hard and fast. “No one is mourning me here,” he says, voice gravel-rough. “If they act like they do, it’s because they’re feeling guilty. There’s nothing left for me here.” He licks his lips, and his next words are a whisper. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.”

And, like. If he really thinks about it, Steve realizes that they wouldn’t be able to keep Billy being back a secret if he stayed in Hawkins. And if they tell Max, or Billy’s family, then word would spread. The government would no doubt hear of it. There would be a high probability of Billy being taken in for tests, experimentation, whatever else.

He doesn’t deserve that, Steve thinks as he watches Billy emerge from the shower wearing borrowed clothes. Because Billy died saving them. Sacrificed himself for them, even when they’d done so little to try to save him. This? Driving Billy to California? It’s the least Steve can do for him.

~~~

They get on the road the next day. Steve has taken time off work blaming the death of an elderly aunt and a rare family gathering, and been as vague as he can get away with concerning how long he’ll be away. Early in the morning, they put their bags – Billy’s is a borrowed one, containing only Steve’s things since he has nothing of his own and understandably didn’t want to keep the clothes he had on when he was buried – in the trunk of the car, and get in.

Steve is driving. When they pass the “Leaving Hawkins” sign, Billy lets out an audible sigh and slumps down in his seat. Steve glances over at him, and Billy explains without being prompted; “I always hated this town. I can’t believe they fucking buried me here.”

His incredulousness over the fact draws a snort out of Steve.

~~~

It’s strange, how easy it is to get used to having Billy Hargrove next to him while in a confined space. Stranger yet, how well they get along considering their history. And even more strange, how different Billy seems now, when they’ve left Hawkins behind them.

Or perhaps it’s not strange at all – at least not in comparison to all the other weird stuff they’ve both seen and somehow lived through. In the great scheme of things, one young man coming back from the dead and wanting to go back home doesn’t even make the top ten list of weird shit.

Billy is surprisingly funny, and witty, and smart – and it is dazzling without the sharp edges. It takes Steve a while to recognize what is missing, and when he does, it makes him watch Billy with new eyes. Because Billy doesn’t seem to exist behind a layer of anger anymore. The tension is gone. The further they get from Hawkins, the easier Billy seems to breathe.

The change is remarkable. Makes Steve think that he probably never knew who Billy really was, before this.

He finds himself thinking that he is looking forward to getting to know the real Billy.

~~~

They take turns driving. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they sit in companionable silence, and sometimes whoever’s in the passenger seat naps while the other drives. They stop at gas stations to stock up on gas and snacks, and at diners for food. That first night, they drive straight through, but the next night they stop at a motel for some proper sleep in a bed.

They share a room, but lie in separate beds. They talk for hours in the dark before falling asleep.

“I never wanted to be buried underground,” Billy says, when they’re both on the edge of sleep. “They knew that.”

“What did you want, then?” Steve asks, never having considered an alternative.

“I wanted to get back to the ocean,” Billy says. “Have my ashes spread over the surface of the water and become one with the waves again.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. That he’s sorry that even Billy’s own family didn’t respect his final wishes? That it sucks that they buried his body in the dirt of a town he hated, leaving him to rot there forever when he never even wanted to come there in the first place?

“’One with the waves’ … That sounds beautiful,” he decides on. And then, as an aside, “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

Steve can hear the smile in Billy’s voice when he speaks next. “You’re going to love it. It’s … everything.”

~~~

They get closer – to California, and to each other – and the closer they get, the less urgency Steve feels to get to their destination. Because what will happen when they get there? Steve can’t just leave Billy there without a means to support himself. Without a home, without a car, without money – without someone to take care of him. Steve can’t help it – he worries.

And then he looks at Billy’s smiling face next to him, and feels his worries being washed away.

He still finds himself taking the scenic route more often than not. Insisting on taking detours to see the sights. Claiming he’s too tired to drive unless he takes a break.

Billy smiles as if he knows what Steve is doing, but he doesn’t make a comment. Doesn’t complain. Seems to enjoy this little bubble they’re in together, in Steve’s car with the world passing them by outside.

It’s strange. But it’s nice, too. Steve kind of doesn’t want it to end.

~~~

The last night, they stop at a motel an hour or two from their destination. They could have kept on driving, but none of them seemed to want to. So they get a room, as usual. Steve pays, as usual. There are two beds, as usual.

Yet, when it’s time to sleep, Billy forgoes his own bed and goes to stand by Steve’s. There’s a question in the air between them, unasked.

Steve answers by peeling back the comforter in invitation. His mouth is dry and his heart is beating like a drum in his chest as Billy climbs in next to him.

They don’t speak much, that night. But they kiss. And they hold each other.

“I never wanted to come to Hawkins,” Billy whispers between kisses. “And I hated it there. But I met you, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

The next morning, they wake up in each other’s arms.

~~~

“I’ll show you my home,” Billy says when they get back in the car after breakfast. Steve is back behind the wheel, because he wants a reason to keep his eyes on the road. If he watches Billy too much, he’ll do something stupid – like turn the car around and go back to Hawkins with Billy still in it, or perhaps decide not to go back to Hawkins at all, himself. Just, stay here with Billy, for a while longer.

It’s a fantasy that hurts, so he pushes it down. Concentrates on following Billy’s directions, and drive through a city bigger than one he’s ever been in.

(When he first spots the glittering blue between buildings, he gasps. So does Billy.)

They drive through the city, then out of it. Along a winding road with fewer and fewer buildings around, the ocean vast and terrifyingly endless to their right. Eventually Billy directs them down a gravel road that doesn’t have a sign and looks like it might lead onto private property. Steve would worry, would perhaps protest, if it wasn’t for the longing on Billy’s face.

They have to walk the last bit, Billy says. They get out of the car. It’s hours before noon, but it’s already warm. Steve’s in just a T-shirt, and for a second he his face to the sun to feel the warmth of it on his skin – before turning to Billy only to see him turned to the sun, too. Like a flower in bloom.

He looks golden, in this light.

After a short walk down a steep incline, they end up on a little beach. A tiny one, empty, with rocky outcrops on either side which makes it seem like they’re the only people on earth. The sand is fine and pale under their feet, the water lapping at the edges of it and then stretching out in front of them until it meets the horizon, far far away.

It’s beautiful. But it’s not exactly a house. And didn’t Billy say he’d show Steve his home?

“Mom used to take me here when I was a kid,” Billy says, kicking off his shoes. Steve does the same, and pulls off his socks as well. “We used to come here all the time.” Billy holds out his hand with a smile, and Steve takes it. They make their way to the water. “She’d watch me play in the water for hours, sitting on a towel, just listening to the waves and the seagulls.” The first step into the water is a shock – it’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels alive. Steve takes a tentative step after Billy, bolstered by Billy’s widening smile. “I think taking me here was the most peaceful she ever got to be. It was for me, at least. The best times of my childhood.”

They stand there in the surf, feet in the water and holding hands, when Billy turns to Steve. His eyes are shining with unshed tears and his smile is wobbly as he places his hands on either sides of Steve’s face and leans in for the softest of kisses; their lips just barely brushing against each other.

“Thank you,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat because it sounds like goodbye, “for not letting me stay buried in Indiana.”

He backs up a step. Brushes a tear from Steve’s cheek – that he hadn’t realized had fallen – and turns towards the endless sea. Takes a deep breath and starts walking.

Steve wants to reach out to stop him, wills himself to to say something, but he can’t. Somehow, he knows that this is where they were heading from the start. This is why they had to go here.

As Steve watches, Billy … dissolves. Like in a movie. One moment he is solid, and the next he’s … not. He turns to dust in front of Steve’s eyes, fine dust that glitters like gold in a sudden ray of sunlight. It – he – is spread out over the water, is carried over the clear surface by the gentle breeze.

Instead of being trapped in the ground inland, he becomes one with the waves again.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Homecoming

John Egan finally makes it home to you

Requested by anon, based on the prompt carrying the other one in their arms

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

“They’ll be here,” Marge said from her place beside you, fussing with the hem of her dress.

She sounded as if she was trying to assure herself as much as you, but you appreciated the sentiment, bumping her shoulder and giving her an encouraging smile and nod in thanks.

Marge had introduced you to John Egan— better known as Bucky— about a week before he shipped out to England, and you had fallen head over heels for him.

Both Marge and Gale had warned you before he left that “John Egan isn’t the penpal type,” but to all of your surprise, Bucky had dutifully written you the moment he arrived on base, and the stream of letters had remained steady for nearly the entire time he’d been away.

Until one day Marge stopped receiving letters from Gale, and Bucky’s letters had stopped shortly after.

The two of you were beside yourselves with worry, until you received word that both of them had ended up as POWs in a German camp; you were both still terrified, but at least you knew they were alive.

Then came May 1945– Germany had officially surrendered, and your boys were coming home.

The flow of letters had resumed shortly after you had received word of Bucky’s capture, but it was slow and irregular despite the Red Cross’s best efforts. You hadn’t seen Bucky for nearly two years, and joy and terror were fighting for dominance in your mind at the thought of standing in front of him again.

The Army had set up you and Marge, as well as the other loved ones waiting for their soldiers to return, in a hotel near the train station where the boys would be arriving. So now here you were in the lobby, waiting anxiously for Buck and Bucky to walk through the doors.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you were only alerted to their entrance by a gasp from Marge, who promptly raced into Gale’s open and waiting arms. You, on the other hand, were frozen, scrambling to process the appearance of one John Egan as his eyes locked on you.

Frankly, it was a blur. One moment you were frozen in place, the next you were racing towards him, Bucky moving to meet you halfway, his arms curling tight around you as you collapsed against him.

“You’re here, you’re here,” was all you could say as you held him tight, a spike of worry running through you when you felt how thin he had become, but he was still warm and real and solid and here, and his voice was thick in your ear as he whispered back. “‘M here, sweetheart, ‘m home.”

He pulled away slightly— it took all of your strength not to clutch him to you again, loath to let him go after so long— and brought up a hand to caress your cheek, blue eyes simply taking you in for a moment.

His gaze kept drifting down to your bright red lips, and at your eager nod once you’d realized what he was waiting for, he swooped down to capture your lips in a long, long overdue kiss.

You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips as you heard Marge cheering at the sight of you two, and the feeling of his returning smile against your own had your heart soaring.

After several long minutes of simply holding each other, making up for lost time, you eventually joined back up with Buck and Marge, giving Gale a joyful welcome-home hug as Marge did the same with Bucky.

The hotel had arranged for a special dinner, and the plan was to head straight there once the reunions had wound down… though you had no idea how anyone could even think of dinner at a time like this.

Bucky’s thoughts seemed to be straying as well, as instead of allowing you to simply curl up next to him on the couch set where you settled with Buck and Marge, he tugged you down into his lap and wrapped his arms firmly around your waist.

Your friends headed over to the dining room before too long, Bucky assuring them that the two of you would catch up.

Those plans soon went out the window entirely, though.

Bucky’s scarred, nimble fingers began tracing patterns over your dress, making your breath hitch.

Your letters to each other had been… well, you wouldn’t want your mother reading certain sections of them, that’s for certain. But the feeling of him pressed against you, holding you tight was an experience no amount of letters could have prepared you for.

His lips brushed your ear, unspeakable implications hidden in such innocent words: “You have your own room here, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Unable to form words as his low rumble sparked heat just below your belly, you nodded, and to this day you have no idea how you didn’t simply melt into a puddle when you felt him grin against you.

His question of “Care to show me?” was met with a similar, more enthusiastic nod, and before you knew it Bucky had swept you up in his arms.

“I— Bucky!” You yelped in surprise as he carried you towards the elevators with surprising ease, “Should you be doing—?”

“What I should be doing—” your concerns for his health were brushed aside with a searing look “— is showing my girl exactly how much I’ve missed her.”

It was a good thing he was carrying you, because every bone in your body turned to jelly at that statement.

Even in the elevator he didn’t put you down, silencing every one of your protests with a kiss until your lipstick was irreparably smudged and the coarse hairs decorating his top lip were tinted a slight red.

You arrived at your floor, and he waited patiently as you unlocked the door from your place in his arms— a task that took much longer than it should have thanks to the major scattering kisses along your neck, as if he had to have his lips on you constantly now that you were more than just words on a page.

You were carried over the threshold bridal-style, and Bucky nudged the door closed with his foot so no one could see how he gently lowered you to the bed, murmuring promises of making up for lost time against your lips.

[myfictionaldreams]

Pretty Eyes // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie was your best friend but you were undoubtedly in love with him. During one of Steve's house parties, you find yourself in bed with him which wasn't unusual, you were only hugging after all... until your lips are brushing against his.

A/N: I will be getting to the other requests that I have I promise, I’m just abosolutely in love with Eddie and needed to write for him again!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, drunken kissing, flirting, sexual tension, sharing a bed, first kiss, fingering, rough sex, mark (back scratching), praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, Eddie is a massive SIMP!

Words: 7.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Steve was hosting another house party as his parents were out and it was safe to say… you were thoroughly enjoying the free alcohol. In fact, you had enjoyed so much of the liquors that you collapsed onto the sofa face first, half hanging off so that your knuckles grazed the floor and dozed in and out of sleep.

This was where Eddie found you, a toothy grin gracing his face as he took in your position, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he stepped around a partier to get to you, dropping down and sitting on the floor next to you.

There was a bottle of beer in your hand that was dangerously close to tipping over and spilling over the Harrington’s expensive cream carpet so he quickly eased it out of your grasp and onto the small table beside him. This caused you to jolt awake, eyelids were heavy as you opened them to look around, seeing Eddie sitting with his knees drawn up, the ripped holes of his jeans stretching to reveal his kneecaps.

You gave him a beaming smile, hand lifting to reach for him, settling on his shoulder as you exclaimed with a slur to your words, “I’ve been looking for you!” Eddie laughed, dimples deepening in his cheeks that had your body waking further, positioning yourself off of the sofa to be closer to him. Your best friend also moved forward so that he was now leaning his arm across the couch where you promptly lay your head, using it as a pillow whilst his other hand rested on your back, subconsciously stroking circles across the material of your dress.

From anyone else in the room, the view would be assumed that you were both in a very happy relationship if the casual touches and gleaming twinkle in each other's eyes, only looking at each other and no one else. Sadly, this was the wrong assumption, you were both ‘just friends’.

It may not be the same level of friendship as say you had with Steve or Robin, but you were both adamant about just being friends. Even if said friendship was everything that a relationship was, spending all of your spare time together, you would go to his shows and sit on the front row cheering him on, he would drive you to and from school, hugs that lasted too long and on the few occasions you fell asleep at his and waking in each other's arms, neither moving because it just felt so good. It was something you both cherished and therefore this made it hard to give up and develop into anything more, even though it was painfully clear to anyone watching that you both were desperate for something more, alas, this was not the case.

As you settled into the embrace, you looked into Eddie’s expressive brown, puppy dog eyes, continuing with your explanation as to how you’d ended up on the furniture. “You were there one minute and poof! You disappeared! I was looking for you everywhere and then Robin said you might be in here and…and I think I tripped or something and here I am, and look … I found you! Robin was right!”

“Good job sweetheart! Now if I do remember, I told you I was going for a piss and asked you to stay next to the fridge and what happened… you wondered off, I’ve been looking for you for half an hour”, he playfully flicked the tip of your nose as the distant memory of him telling you to stay put came into your thoughts. “Are you having a good time?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss your cheek casually, except a kiss on the cheek was never casual for him, his lips touching leaving a warm tingle against your cheek as he hovered there for a second too long for just a friend.

“I’m having the best time! Everything is so loud and the rooms spinning around you so the party must be getting crazy and now I’ve found you again, everything is even better!” With your enthusiasm and excitement, you shifted on the couch, causing your knee-length dress to ride up higher up your thighs, to a point of near exposure.

Eddie noticed, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, something you watched with fascination but then was distracted as the warmth of his hand on your back disappeared but that was only so he could pull your dress back down over your thighs, protecting your modesty. “My knight in shining armour”, you teased him, fingers playing with the ends of his wavy hair that settled on his shoulders.

“Yes, and this is why you’re wearing my shorts under your dress”, he chastised, returning his fingers to your upper back, in big circles that lulled you into a peaceful state. For a moment you closed your eyes, tilting your head to nuzzle into his arm further. Eddie moved closer to he was only a couple of inches away from your face, “Hey, you aren’t going to sleep on me, are you? Maybe it’s time we go”.

Your features shifted into a frown, displeased with his statement as you began to whine, “No, I don’t want to go, I wanna stay here with you”.

Eddie’s ringed fingers stroked over your cheek, trying to rouse you more from falling asleep fully, “Angel, your eyes aren’t even open”. To try and prove your point, you forced your eyes open, wide and stared at him until he laughed but then he looked around, noticing that there were fewer people than before, “I think the party’s starting to come to an end anyway so think’s its time we get going”.

Your eyebrows furrowed, being more whinier than usual in your drunken state, “I can’t be bothered to go, I live on the other side of town and it’s just too far away Eddie, I don’t want to leave!”

Once again, Eddie is laughing, the noise momentarily distracting you from his quest to leave but as he begins to shift onto his knees, you were once again frowning until he explained, “Sweetheart, we’re staying here, remember? Steve’s got a spare room for us upstairs.”

“He does!?”, you say with excitement, finally finding the energy and motivation to actually look awake now.

“Yeah! So get your butt up!”

This was easier said than done as your head spun making you feel a little nauseous, eyes rolling as you sat up with Eddie’s help and luckily he was slow to move, making sure you got your bearings before standing.

“Are you guys going already?! But who am I supposed to watch the sunrise with?”, Robin suddenly was in your line of vision, looking sadly between you and Eddie who had his arm supporting your weight as you held onto his neck. In the back of your mind, you vaguely remembered agreeing whilst sober that you’d join your friends in watching the sunrise but that definitely wasn’t happening anymore.

“Sorry, this one needs to go to bed”, Eddie explained, continuing to move past her and a few other remaining partiers as he half-carried you up the stairs to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You were aware that you were leaning into his touch more than you actually needed to but he just smelled so good, cigarettes, beer and the aftershave you’d bought him for his birthday.

However, as soon as you saw the bed, you’re stumbling out of his arms and collapsing face first into the soft sheets, bouncing a few times from the mattress before settling. Eddie smiled, shrugging off his denim jacket and placing it onto the bags you’d both bought with the attention to stay.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, checking to see if you were awake or not as he switched on the lamp next to the bed. When you didn’t respond he moved to sit at your feet, taking off your shoes and socks one at a time, making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep.

You were still awake but were still trying to adjust and wait for the world to stop spinning before turning onto your back to look at Eddie as he chucked your shoes to join the rest of your stuff. From the twist of positions, your bra began to dig into your ribs, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and instead of asking for a change of clothes, you tiredly announced, “My bra’s uncomfortable”.

In the low light, you could see Eddie’s cheeks blush pink before he tried to hide it by going over to both of your bags. He routed through your clothes and couldn’t figure out what was pyjamas and what was your outfit for the morning so he gave up and pulled out a spare shirt of his, walking over and dropping it into your lap, “it’ll be more comfortable than your dress”.

“Thank you”, you say sweetly, sitting up again with a groan and without thinking, reaching behind your head to try and undo the zipper of your dress. Eddie’s eyes widened and he quickly turned on the spot to face the wall, giving you some privacy but then you let out a frustrated grunt and then he felt a small tap on the centre of his back. Turning back to face you, he found that you’d stood from the bed and were looking up at him with an annoyed expression. “I can’t undo the zipper, can you help me pretty please?”

You turned on the spot, showing him your back with the offensive zip. Eddie didn’t answer, swallowing harshly as he began to lift his fingers, easily dragging the zip all the way down to your lower back. It wasn’t the first time seeing this much of your skin, having changed in the same room before but it felt oddly intimate to be the one doing it. He even contemplated undoing the clasp of your bra as he knew you wanted it off but he clenched his fist and turned back around.

Over his shoulder, he could hear you muttering your thanks and then your dress fell to the floor, followed by a relieved gasp as he assumed you’d removed your bra. “That's so much better, you can turn around by the way”, you say as you sit down. Eddie does just that and is blessed with the sight of you sitting in his old Iron Maiden shirt and shorts that you’d been wearing underneath the dress.

You were unaware of the effect you were having on him as you swayed drunkenly on the spot, wiping your tired eyes and smudging your makeup. “You want me to get your make-up remover for you?”, he asks and you nod with a thankful smile.

Eddie watched painfully at your attempt to remove your make-up, and eventually succumbed, “Let me, Angel”, he took the wipe from your hand and knelt down, placing one hand under your chin to keep you in place as he carefully began to remove your make-up.

You loved this side of Eddie, outside of the metal music, the hyperactive DnD player, was the soft, kind-hearted best friend that had captured your heart from the moment you both met. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was something else that compelled you to whisper, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

Eddie’s wiping hand paused, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip again as his brown eyes danced between looking at both of yours and then he chuckled, knocking your cin up slightly as he stood, ignoring your compliment, “All done, still as beautiful as ever, move up the bed, I’m going to get you a glass of water”.

You did as instructed, sitting up against the headboard as you watched him leave. Looking down at your shirt, you lifted the material at the neck and took a deep breath, smelling his natural scent that made your heart flutter. Eddie returned a few minutes later with two glasses of water, handing you one and even though you didn’t want to drink it, feeling too tired, Eddie made sure that you did, hoping it would help your inevitable hangover in the morning.

As you drank, he started to arrange his makeshift bed on the floor as Steve had given him a couple of extra pillows and blankets to get comfy next to you. Next, he removed his jeans, leaving him in his shirt and boxers, a sight you’d seen many times before but it didn’t stop you from warming throughout your body, feeling like you shouldn’t be staring at his spare legs, seeing the occasional tattoo’s that no one knew about on his calf.

“What are you doing down over there? The bed’s big enough for the two of us”, you tapped on the space next to you before reaching to clumsily place your empty glass onto the bedside table, smiling proudly when it didn’t fall off and smash.

“Fine, but if you throw up on me, I’m not going to be happy”, Eddie joked, stumbling over to the bed and jumping onto the mattress face first with enough force that you jumped up and down.

You laugh as you shuffle to a lying position, facing towards him, watching as he got comfortable with his arms pushing beneath his pillow as he looked towards you with his hair completely covering his face. Your fingers seemed to be working of their own accord as they drifted towards his wavy hair, brushing it back so that you could see his resting face, eyes closed, he looked peaceful.

“Why are you so far away?”, you asked with a hint of humour, biting your lip as he opened one eye to look at you, waiting an anxious second before quickly hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, his voice now husky with exhaustion.

“Much better, thank you”, you say, shuffling into a comfortable position as the two of you seemed to naturally shape together.

You and Eddie were now facing each other, one of your legs was placed between his, the warm naked skin of each other's calves rubbing together, and one of his arms were locked around your waist, holding you tight to his chest where your hands were resting.

“Goodnight”, the two of you spoke at the same time, eyes closing.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but sleep didn’t seem to come as easily as you thought and it felt like there was an invisible cord in your gut that was pulling you closer to Eddie, so you listened to the instincts and opened your eyes to look at him. Except, it seemed you weren’t the only one to feel this way as you found Eddie’s wonderful brown eyes already open and looking at you.

The two of you shyly smiled having caught each other looking.

“Go to sleep Sweetheart”, Eddie encouraged, dipping his head and kissing your cheek, almost near the corner of your mouth. You moved closer on instinct until you could feel his breath fanning across your face and didn’t stop until your lips rested against his chin, finding the touch comforting.

Neither of you knew who it was who shifted, maybe you were naturally drawn higher or Eddie lower but then your lips were on the corner of his mouth. You could feel the crease of the corner of his lips against yours that began to pout with a delicate little kiss.

Then your head tilted and you kissed again, your mouth covering half of his now as you both didn’t seem to be breathing or thinking, every muscle throughout your body feeling like there were no bones supporting your structures, like you were melting into the bed.

The next kiss, the two of you turned in unison, mouth meeting mouth directly, pushing delicately together still both unsure of each other's actions.

Eddie was the first to press firmer into the kiss, his ringed fingers clenching his shirt that you wore as he released the breath he was holding, the air fanning across your cheek. It was your turn to reciprocate the kiss, one after another you gave him close-mouthed issues, your fingers lifting to feel the soft skin of his cheek, leg that was slotted between his also shifting higher.

This seemed to shake Eddie out of what was happening as he pulled back an inch, opening his eyes to see your lips still pursed from the kisses he’d been desperately enjoying. But you’d both been drinking and even though this was something he wanted more than anything, he wouldn’t forgive himself if this continued any further.

Giving one last kiss to your temple, Eddie’s husky voice whispered, “Go to sleep, Sweetheart”.

Maybe it was the fear of the reality of looking at Eddie after kissing him or potentially the alcohol but you didn’t open your eyes again and before long your breaths had evened out and your hands fell from his face and onto the space of bed between your bodies as sleep consumed you.

In the morning, Steve barged into the room with a plate full of slices of toast, having stayed up for the sunrise, he was offering food to all the guests before finally going to bed. You and Eddie jolted, sleepily accepting the food and munching in natural silence.

“How are you feeling?” the metal head asked, his stomach feeling heavy with nerves waiting for your response.

Shrugging your shoulders, you swallowed your mouthful of food, “ok, I have a little bit of a headache but I’m sure that’ll go in a bit. Why? Was I really drunk last night? I don’t really remember anything after beer pong” you admitted, hoping that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Eddie’s face almost flinched at your revelation and it had you putting down your food, “what… did I do something bad?” you asked worriedly.

Eddie shook his head causing his curls to bounce, “No you didn’t do anything embarrassing, you were absolutely fine, didn’t make the sun rise though”, he tried to smile through the realisation that you didn’t remember anything, more specifically the kiss. He tried to brush off his disappointment, but couldn’t deny how much he wished that everything was different.

Eddie dropped you off at home an hour later, and both of you decided to use today to recover from the heavy drinking and then meet up again tomorrow to do whatever came to mind.

As soon as you saw your best, you dropped onto it and fell asleep for a couple more hours, waking in the early afternoon and feeling a lot more refreshed. The hours ticked and you spent your time showering and generally cleaning up, before Robin called you on the house phone, wanting to discuss last night and she was saddened to hear that you didn’t remember a lot of it.

“Really? I was hoping you would have some gossip to tell your best buddy”, she sighed dramatically on the other end of the phone.

You frowned, twirling the phone lead in your fingers as you asked, “What do you mean gossip? Eddie said I didn’t do anyone embarrassing”. Your friend seemed to go quiet which was very unlike her and you knew something was wrong, “Robin please tell me what I’ve done”.

“It’s not that you did anything embarrassing, it’s just that um… Well… Steve said that when he walked in on you two this morning, you both looked pretty cosy. You were in his clothes, his arms were around you… Steve was hoping there was something to read between the lines”.

You let out a relieved sigh, drunk you hadn’t accidentally done something, it was just the usual gossip that seemed to be discussed every time anyone saw you and Eddie together. “Oh, that! That was nothing, just two friends sharing a bed and being com…fortable…”, your words fizzled out as something seemed to come back to you.

Now that you were actually having to think about specifics, little flashes of the night came back to you. Eddie making you laugh as he found you on the sofa, then nothing, and then you remembered drinking a glass of water and being proud that the glass didn’t fall onto the floor, and then nothing… but then… your lips… you’d definitely kissed someone last night… in the bed that you woke up in with Eddie.

Eddie… You’d kissed Eddie last night, on the mouth…with your mouth… in a more than friendly way.

“Hey? Are you there?”, Robin asked as you stood in silence, staring at a crack in the wallpaper on the wall.

“Sorry, can I call you back?”, you didn’t give her time to answer as you placed the phone back on the receiver.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, finding it even difficult to swallow but you weren’t sure if it was due to anxiety or excitement. But then, why didn’t Eddie say anything this morning? It was clear that he hadn’t been as drunk as you and remembered everything from the night before so why wouldn’t he say anything?

Before you overthink it, you were pulling on your sneakers and were out of the door, walking with a purpose, the only thing you were sure of was that you needed to get to Eddies and talk to him, even though he lived a 20-minute walk away which involved going through the scary area of the woods, you didn’t care for once.

The length of the trek gave you a little bit of time to really digest what had happened. Of course, you’d wanted something to blossom between you and Eddie for as long as you could remember but always coward out of it at the last second. But now, there was no way you were letting this go, you weren’t even sure what to say to him, the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was deciding what to do as you continued on, the sun beginning to set through the treeline as the evening hours of the day passed.

Finally, you arrived at the trailer park, with sweat glistening over your face with the speed that you had walked but your arms and legs were chilled due to the cooler evenings due to the time of year, regretting not putting on a jacket before leaving but it was way too late for that as Eddie’s trailer was in your eyeline.

His Uncles truck wasn’t outside so you were thankful for him potentially being at work so he didn’t have to witness this conversation.

Stepping up to the porch door which was closest to Eddie's bedroom, out of breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead, you banged on the door hard as you could hear Eddie listening to his music loudly. What were you even going to say? SHIT, you thought, SHIT SHIT SHIT, maybe you shouldn’t have come over, maybe there was still time to turn back and run away.

But this was not the case as the door handle turned and Eddie opened the front door, his hair in a low ponytail, wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt and his usual ripped black jeans, his face immediately turning into a frown with worry as he saw you at his doorstep. “Sweetheart? What are you doing here? Are you ok? Did you… did you walk here?! Through the woods? You should have called me I would have picked you up, what’s wrong- has something happened?”

Eddie was evidently panicking, you never just turned up on his doorstep, if you wanted to see him, you’d usually call so he could drive and pick you up so a million possibilities were currently going through his head. He stepped out onto the porch, his hands lifting to your shoulders, eyes searching your face and then your arms and legs for any signs of injuries.

Your mouth opened and closed with no idea as to what to say, you could say you were ok and wanted to talk, or maybe bottle it completely and say you wanted to see him. However, neither of these options was what you decided on in the end as you suddenly blurted out, “We kissed!” Eddie’s entire body seemed to freeze, his eyes wide with uncertainty so you continued to babble, “I kissed you on the mouth, with my mouth, we kissed each other, Eddie”.

Finally, he spoke as he said in a low voice, “Yeah, we did”. He let go of your shoulders and you watched him seem to contemplate something for a minute as he wiped a stressed hand over his face before looking at you with a bit more confidence, “Would you like a beer?”

“Uh…no thanks”.

“Ok, well I do so please come in and make yourself at home”, he held the door open for you before shutting it gently and walking through the kitchen/living room area to the fridge, pulling out a beer and drinking half of it before placing it on to countertop, turning to look at you, leaning against the side as he didn’t know what to say.

You stood steps away, suddenly feeling light like a deer in headlights, fingers nervously twisting together due to habit and realising that you were doing it, you shook them. Eddie also noticed, he always noticed everything about you and hated that you were nervous about this sort of conversation, it was one of the reasons he hadn’t told you.

Holding out his hand, he softly said, “Come here, Sweetheart”.

You were thankful for this, closing the gap between the two of you instantly and grasping his hand, feeling him squeeze it and pull you close so that you now stood between his legs and you instantly felt at ease, his touch always seemed to do that. “I don’t really know what to say now I’m here, I remembered what happened and came straight here in a panic, maybe you regretted it or-”

“I’d never regret kissing you”, he responded honestly. Your eyes looked up into his, seeing the sincerity there as his thumb brushed against the back of the hand that he held. The way he was looking at you, like he always did, with the look he only saved for you that made you feel warm and safe and happy.

“I want to do it again”, you admitted under your breath, feeling like there was nothing in the world that mattered more than this conversation, that crossing between friends and more.

Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, he just simply lifts up the hand that was at his side and with his knuckles, he grazed down your cheek with a familiar but intimate touch and as he began leaning forward, you knew his answer.

And yet, when his breath was graced over your lips, you couldn’t help but say, “Eddie, you’re my best friend”.

He paused, a hairbreadth away from your face, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours as he whispered, “You’re my best friend too”.

“I… I don’t think I want to just be your best friend anymore”.

This was all the confirmation that Eddie needed to press his lips and body against yours, standing away from the countertop, both hands cupping your cheeks so that you could feel the coolness of his rings. Your hands had settled on his chest, gripping his shirt for dear life, scared that if you let go, he might disappear.

The kiss deepened almost immediately, both of you leaning into each other as closely as you could, heads tilting and mouths opening further. You moaned as Eddie’s tongue brushed against your upper lip and you willingly reciprocated the touch, his taste bursting over your tongue, most of the beer he’d just drank but something else that was unique to him and you absolutely craved more.

Eddie was feeling just as overwhelmed and yet, thoroughly relieved that this was happening. He had been kicking himself all day having not spoken to you about it before dropping you home and had been back and forth to the phone, dialling your home phone before stopping at the last digit as he lost his confidence. So to see you standing at his door, apart from the initial panic, there was only relief that remained, already deciding that if you weren’t going to mention it, he would reveal what had happened.

But now, here you both were two best friends, finally being able to touch each other the way you’d both been so desperate to do.

Finally decided that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere, your grasp on his shirt loosened so that you could stroke down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, unsure whether you should dip beneath to feel him further.

It seemed like Eddie was in the same situation as one of his hands was now holding your hip, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your t-shirt. Pulling away from the kiss, Eddie leaned his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to catch your breaths.

This was where you made the brave decision to take matters into your own hands by taking a step back. Eddie frowned slightly but then you took his hand in yours and began pulling him towards his bedroom and his face immediately brightened, biting his lip as he followed after you.

Through all the times of imagining this exact situation, you’d thought maybe you would be nervous but all that you felt was excitement and anticipation which only fueled your confidence as you pushed Eddie onto his bed and then straddled his lap. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you close as you both began kissing again. Your fingers cupped his jaw, feeling the little prickles of his stubble starting to grow from now shaving today, and then you moved further around his neck to his hair, pulling out the elastic band so you could run your fingers through it.

He groaned at the touch, his skilful fingers now moving beneath your t-shirt, stroking the soft skin of your hips and back, whilst also pulling your hips down so that you could feel the evidence of his arousal. You gasped into his mouth at feeling how hard he was and your veins seemed to hum knowing that it was you who had caused this. Your panties were just as wet as you ground your hips now, rolling them against his to stimulate the two of you.

Dropping your hands to reach over his shoulders, you began to pull on his shirt, needing the material off of his body and thankfully, he soon understood your request and pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. Before kissing him again, you looked down at his chest, something you had seen countless times but now you could actually run your fingers down it, nails scratching lightly over the sprinkling of dark hair in the centre that trailed all the way down to a thin strip that disappeared below his belt.

Your mouth watered at the sight but then his mouth was back on yours, hungrily moving, tongues dancing together, teeth scraping against lips, he was insatiable. You wanted more of him, you wanted everything he had to offer, and you needed to make him feel good, there were so many options but with your arousal and desperation, you just knew you wanted him now.

Pulling back from the kiss once more, Eddie began to taste the skin across your neck, open-mouth kisses along the sensitive areas, nipping on certain parts where you moaned louder. “Eddie that feels so good”.

Eddie hummed at your desperate little whines, needing to hear more of them so without giving you any warning, he placed an arm around your waist and turned the two of you so that you now lay across his bed and he hovered above you. Looking up with wide eyes,  Eddie dipped his head to kiss you once, twice and then his fingers hovered over your short buttons, undoing them with ease. You helped him to pull them down with your underwear, Eddie making quick work to pull your shoes off, and then reached for the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head and onto the growing pile of clothes.

Lying back onto his bed, you now realised just how exposed you were, having gone without a bra today because you had intended on lounging around the house so you were completely nude, save for your white trainer socks. Eddie’s eyes were wide as he looked over your body, to the areas he hadn’t seen before and he almost came right then and there as he groaned, “You’re so fucking beautiful Angel”.

He crawled over your body to peck your lips, then trailed lower, leaving sweet kisses on his journey, over your collarbones, nipping with his teeth to tease and then stopped at your sternum, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, his hair shadowing his face. With his hand, he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the tissue and holding it in place for this tongue to stroke across your perked nipple, the sensation of warmth blooming instantly in your abdomen.

“Ed-Eddie”, your fingers delved into his thick longs, holding him in place as he moved from one breast to the other, doing something he had been desperate to do for so long.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sweetheart”, as he finished speaking, he sucked your right nipple into his mouth and then flattened his tongue against the skin. Your back arched into the touch, completely melting into him and his distracting mouth, only then realising that one of his hands was moving lower, grazing over your navel, your bikini line and over your mound, stopping just before moving any further.

“Please Eddie, don’t stop, I want you to touch me”, you sounded desperate but you didn’t care, feeling elated with need.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart”, he reassured, moving back to hover over your face, making sure he could see your face as he finally stroked his rough fingertip against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet, is that just for me?”, he asked with an air of arrogance as of course, he knew this was just for him. You couldn’t form the words as all you could think about were his skilful fingers so you frantically nodded your head, your hands still in his hair, squeezing tighter onto the strands as he idly explored between your legs.

Eddie rested his other arm next to your face, leaning his weight onto it as he continued to stare down at you, watching every gasp and show of pleasure as he circled your bundle of nerves, feeling your hips rotating with his moves, it was a sight he wanted to remember for the rest of his life.

As he applied a little bit more pressure, you arched your back in euphoria, your neck now more exposed and Eddie couldn’t help himself and began to leave open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, tasting your skin.

Your fingers relented on their grip on his hair, wishing to instead feel any part of his body, so you reached over his shoulders, grabbing the top of his back, your nails scratching against the skin to hold him there. Eddie groaned deeply in his chest at feeling you mark his body, enjoying the slight sting of pain that came from your scratches.

“Eddie! I want you”, you whined as he continued to tease your entrance, not pushing in just yet but just feeling every part of your cunt.

He once again is hovering over your mouth, “Yeah?” he smirked, his eyes impossibly dark with how wide his pupils were, “I want you too”, he admits, “but I wanna hear your pretty moans first”. Finally, he slipped his middle finger into your soaking hole and your eyes rolled back at getting to feel more of him, chest bumping up into his.

Eddie is completely crowding you into the bed, every part of your body seemed to be touching his as he knelt over you, his finger moving in and out of you, coated in your juices before adding a second finger, his thumb brushing back and forth over your throbbing clit. Clearly, his guitar playing had really given him more skills in other departments because the way he was coaxing you closer to your orgasm at record speed was mind-blowing, you couldn’t even think of words to praise and beg him, just simply held onto him, accepted his kisses and let the pleasure pulse through your body.

“That’s it, Angel, you’re doing so good for me”, he whispered against your cheek as you came, juices soaking his fingers as he stroked against your g-spot until your walls stopped fluttering and gently eased them out. You watched with a blissed expression as he lifted them to his mouth, sucking his fingers and moaning, “You taste so fucking good, and you’re just so pretty when you cum”, his praises made you mewl and pussy clench.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss, planning on distracting him as your hands explored his chest again, moving lower until you could feel his belt, fumbling to undo it with unsteady fingers. Then you were pushing the material over his hips and thankfully he pushed them lower with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles until he was also completely nude.

This gave you the perfect path to wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times and you were presented with the perfect gift of hearing his moaning. He was bigger than you thought, surprised that he hadn’t boasted about his size before to boost his ego. The skin was soft and warm but his shaft was hard and throbbing, veins bulging along the length as your fingers squeezed as you moved up and down.

“I’ve always wanted to do this too”, you admitted as he closed his eyes, savouring your touch. “Making you moan and throb in my hand”, this made his groan even louder as your unfiltered statement.

You could feel a bead of precum dripping from the tip and before you could spread it around with your thumb, Eddie was easing your hand away from his cock and up to rest above your head, his body beginning to position between yours as lust and excitement hummed in both of your veins.

“Wait Eddie - do you have any condoms? I’m not on any birth control”, you thankfully remembered, sitting up slightly and watching Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, yeah hang on, I’ve got one for emergency”, he clumsily lay across your body to reach into his bedside drawer, fumbling through numerous objects before holding up a condom wrapper like it was his pride and joy. “Ah ha! Knew there was one somewhere”, he muttered to himself as he sat back on his heels, tearing the wrapper with his teeth, discarding the foil and then holding the tip of the condom and rolling it down his shaft. Even though it was a normal thing to do, you couldn’t deny, seeing Eddie touching himself whilst rolling in the condom had your pussy clenching and knowing that he was putting it on just to fuck you.

“Come here, big boy”, you say with a grin, holding out your arms for him to crawl back into which he did eagerly but this time he held both of your wrists in one of his hands, above your head, whilst the other helped to position his tip at your hole.

Now there were a little bit of nerves bubbling in your stomach as you looked up at Eddie, who you had lusted over for so long, actually about to fuck you. It seemed he had similar thoughts as he gave you a small smile before leaning down and capturing your lips with his, distracting you from the feelings and replacing them with overwhelming need instead.

Your hips moved closer to his as he finally began to push in, you both gasp, breaking the kiss, foreheads resting against each other, both enjoying the moment but he also made sure to check that you weren’t in any pain as inch after inch slipped into your cunt.

You felt so discomfort though, your overwhelming arousal helping to make it even more enjoyable as you praised, “Feels so fucking good Eddie”.

“Shit!” he grunted as he was fully inside of you now, “you’re going to make me addicted to feeling this and hearing those perfect moans”. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and then began to do shallow thrusts, building in momentum and depth until you were rolling your hips to try and meet his thrusts did he not hold back.

Eddie fucked you with deep, fast thrusts that had you clawing onto his chest and back for something to hold onto as his face nuzzled into your neck to suck and kiss the sensitive skin. Neither of you said anything other than each other's names, didn’t need to as you both held onto each other, regretting all of the time you’d wasted.

As the tightening in your core intensified you really tried to take in every single detail. The feeling of his thick, cool, metal rings on his fingers that were linked through yours, his freshly-washed, sandalwood hair wash that wafted into your nose where his hair brushed against your cheek, his puffy full lips against your jaw, his chain necklace brushing against your collar bines your nipples brushing against his chest. Then there was below the waist, your thighs being held up by his hairy ones and his cock that was fucking into you causing never-ending pleasure.

It was all you’d ever hoped for as you quickly had time to gasp, “Eddie, your gonna make me cum, I’m so close”.

The bed squeaked with the momentum of his fucking as he increased his speed and Eddie let go of your hands but only so he could hold onto one of your thighs, pushing it further against your chest. His other hand moved to your jaw, holding your head in place as he once again kissed you sloppily, tongues twisting together as he groaned in the back of his throat.

You cried out Eddie’s name against his lips as you came, pussy walls contracting in flutters around his cock and the sensation was too much for him to cope with as he snapped his hips a few times, shouting, “Shit- Sweetheart, yes!” as he too came, his seed filling the condom as he rocked into you both until both orgasms had subsided.

You both stayed like that for a couple of minutes as he lazily kissed along your shoulder before you tilted your head to capture his mouth a few times and then pulled away so he could get up and dispose of his condom. Watching him with an elated grin, your eyes travelled the length of his body as he stood and walked out to the bathroom but you were more concentrating on his back that was covered in your scratches.

Biting your lip to hide the grin, you couldn’t believe that it was actually you leaving those marks on his body, feeling so giddy you could scream but instead, you took a deep breath and decided to sit up yourself, reaching for the closest articles of clothing which just so happen to be Eddie’s shirt and boxers.

Eddie returned a couple of minutes later, completely nude and looking thoroughly prideful as he stopped in the doorway, checking you out just as much as you’d done to him.

“What?” you asked with a shy smile, you were covered now so you weren’t entirely sure what he was staring at.

“You look well and truly fucked, Sweetheart”, he commented, moving over to his drawers to find some new clothes to wear which were just another plain t-shirt and fresh boxers.

“You’re one to talk, have you seen your back?” you teased, watching as he looked into the mirror behind his treasured guitar, turning so he could look over his shoulder and at the marks you’d left on his back. His grin spread cheekily across his face, his dimples appearing as he looked back at you.

“I think I could get used to seeing this”, he admitted with an affectionate tone.

As Eddie got changed into his new clothes, you moved to use the bathroom and then joined him in the living room where he was sat on the couch with the TV on in the background with his opened beer and a fresh one for you. You thanked him as you sat, naturally both reaching for each other as you lift your legs over his lap, his hands massaging your thighs as you both talked more than watch what was on the screen.

Eddie finished the last of his beer and you watched with fascination, your arm over his shoulder, stroking the hair that rested there as you wondered out loud, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

He laughs, placing the empty glass onto the table in front of you both before leaning back and looking at you, “You have actually, you told me last night but I thought it was just a drunken comment”.

“No, it definitely isn’t a drunken thing, it’s an always thing, you’re quite the pretty boy Munson”.

“Hmm, your flattery is getting your everywhere with me, Sweetheart”, he leaned in to start kissing you again, distracting the both of you from the noise of the truck pulling up outside.

You weren’t aware Eddie’s Uncle had returned until he was walking through the door and you both rushed to your feet, with a gap between you and beer bottles hiding behind your back but, that was the least of your worries.

“Hi Mr Munson”, you say in a cheerful tone like you always did. Wayne always loved having you around as he often remarked that you ‘Kept Eddie out of trouble’.

Wayne waved tiredly at the two of you having returned home from work, “Hey kids uh-”. He seemed to stop, actually taking you both in, other than the fact he knew there were beers behind your backs that he knew you both stole and drank but, it was more the dishevelled looks, twinkling eyes and swollen mouths, as well as your obvious choice of clothing… none of which were yours.

“Finally…”, he grunted at the realisation you both had seemed to move on from just being friends. Your face warmed as Eddie rubbed the back of his neck as Wayne kicked the door closed and shrugged his jacket off.

“Uh yeah, I feel like we have some explaining to do”, Eddie awkwardly said and you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Thankfully Wayne held up his hands, “Don’t wanna know kid, just want you both to be happy and uh… please use protection,  I don’t need any baby Munson’s running around here”.

“Oh my god”, Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he looked anywhere that wasn’t his Uncle who muttered about having a shower, leaving you and Eddie to laugh and fall back onto the couch into the same position as before, not needing to hide anything now.

“If you think his reaction was embarrassing, could you imagine what all of our friends’ are going to be like?” you say with a shiver.

Eddie audibly groaned, dropping his head back whilst looking at you from the corner of his eyes, “Oh, this is just going to be a whole lot of fun and games, Sweetheart”.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 39

part 1 | part 38 | ao3

Eight hours, four pizzas, and one — yes, one, Henderson, Jesus — job-well-done beer each later, Steve waves the kids out the door and promptly collapses facedown on his shiny new vinyl flooring.

"God," he groans, rolling his forehead on the floor.

Eddie's not much better off. He's slumped against the front door, bracing his weight with one hand, head hung low between his shoulders. His hair's all frizzed out with sweat, and Steve can hear his soft panting over the hum of the radio. "Yeah," he says in breathless agreement. "Fatherhood is exhausting."

Steve snorts a quiet laugh. "Welcome to the babysitters club."

"Not even getting paid for this shit," Eddie complains, but Steve can see the smile tugging at his mouth when he steps over him. "I'm gonna grab a shower. That okay?"

"Go ahead," Steve mumbles, eyelids heavy as he waves Eddie down the hall. "Towels are in the closet. Borrow whatever you want."

His limbs feel like lead. Shoulders throbbing; headache worse. He's also... maybe, possibly having some major regrets about moving all the couches out onto the front lawn along with the rolled-up carpet earlier (a fact he'd sooner eat his own shirt than admit to Eddie, because Eddie warned him not to do it; told him he was going to be too tired after installing the floors to bring them all back inside, and Steve had shrugged him off at the time because Steve's an overconfident dipshit.) Anyway, he's pretty sure the spasm in his spine is price enough to pay for not listening. He's not about to put up with Eddie's gloating, too.

Eddie pauses in the hallway, rings tapping against the wall, smug little bastard look on his face. "You doin' okay down there, champ?"

It's a serious effort to raise his arm to flip him the bird, but Steve manages.

—

"Hey, sunshine."

Eddie's voice is gentle as Steve blinks himself awake, neck cracking horribly, little puddle of drool under his chin. He's not sure when he drifted off. The last thing he remembers is nuzzling his cheek against the floor, feeling the weirdly papery material slide against his stubble; thinking about how it was cheap and it was tacky but it was new and it was his. How it felt like as good of a fresh start as anyone in Forrest Hills was going to get.

"How long was I out for?" he groans, rolling onto his back to stretch out his stiff limbs.

Long enough, apparently. Eddie got a whole pillow fort situation sorted out while Steve was snoozing — dragged all the pillows and blankets off Steve's bed and arranged them in a pile in the middle of the empty room, pulled a side table and lamp over from the corner, gathered up the radio and the last box of leftover pizza and his black lunchbox and a couple of beers to share.

He's also freshly showered and wearing Steve's pajamas. Looks clean and warm and soft; borrowed Hawkins High green sweats, a thin, white undershirt, the shoulders damp where his hair hangs in pretty wet waves.

Steve is so, so normal about the picture Eddie paints.

So normal.

Not at all popping a boner over a guy in ratty loungewear.

Steve crosses his legs — subtly, left ankle to right knee, but Eddie gives him a knowing smirk over the lip of his beer bottle anyway.

"Shut up," Steve blushes.

"Did I speak?" Eddie asks.

—

part 40

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[lev1hei1chou]

Bunny Boy

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo loses a bet Masterlist

Gojo Satoru sighed, staring at the fluffy bunny costume in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd lost the bet, and now he was supposed to wear this ridiculous thing. "Do I really have to wear this, baby?" he pleaded, holding up the costume with a pained expression.

You gave him a mischievous grin, crossing your arms. "Oh, you definitely do, Satoru. A bet's a bet, remember?" you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

"But bunny ears? And a fluffy tail?" he protested, looking like he was about to start bargaining for his dignity.

"Yes, bunny ears, and a fluffy tail," you affirmed with a giggle. "Come on, it'll be hilarious!"

Resigned, he reluctantly slipped into the costume while sulking, struggling with the huge ears and adjusting the tail awkwardly. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Once he was fully decked out in bunny gear, you burst into laughter, unable to contain yourself. "Oh, love, you look adorable!" you exclaimed between giggles, snapping a quick picture.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he grumbled, though the corners of his lips twitched with a hint of a smile. Despite feeling utterly silly, seeing his beloved laugh so freely made it worth it.

He lost a bet fair and square, and now he was paying the price by parading through the streets of Shibuya in a full-blown bunny costume.

"Come on, baby, it's not that bad," you said, trying to make him feel a little better. "Not that bad?" he protested, his voice desperate. "I look ridiculous!"

"That's the whole point," you teased, looping your arm through his as you set out to walk through the bustling streets.

People passing by couldn't help but stop and stare, some bursting into laughter, others whipping out their phones to capture the sight of the great Satoru Gojo, an esteemed sorcerer, reduced to a fluffy bunny.

"I hope you're enjoying this," Gojo muttered under his breath as they continued their journey.

"Oh, immensely," you replied with a mischievous grin.

Despite the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, Gojo couldn't help but notice the smiles and laughter his costume brought to those around him. It was hard to stay mad when he saw the joy it brought to others, even if he felt like a walking punchline.

Eventually, you made it back home, where Gojo promptly shed the bunny suit and collapsed onto the couch with an exasperated sigh.

You flopped down beside him, still grinning like the cat that got the cream. "You know, you make a pretty adorable bunny."

"Adorable, huh?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'll show you adorable."

Before you could react, he lunged forward and began peppering your face with playful kisses, tickling your sides until you doubled over with laughter.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!" you gasped between fits of giggles.

Gojo relented, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. "Y'know, despite the humiliation, I wouldn't trade moments like these for anything."

You leaned into his embrace, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Me neither, even if it means occasionally turning you into a bunny boy."

[sexsylexi]

Drunken Supprise

Wally West x reader

Wally West had just returned from a patrol around the city, his red and yellow suit still clinging to him as he sped through the streets and finally stopped at the front door of his shared apartment. It was a quiet night, with the only sound being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirping of crickets. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and was greeted by the familiar warmth of home.

He tossed his keys onto the small table by the entrance and kicked off his shoes. The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a table lamp casting gentle shadows across the room. Wally stretched, feeling the tension from his evening patrol ebb away. He was just about to head to the kitchen for a quick snack when he heard a series of muffled sounds coming from the hallway.

Frowning, Wally turned toward the noise. It was unusual for anyone to be up at this hour, especially since he and his partner, you, usually turned in early after a long day of hero work. But as he approached the source of the noise, he realized it was coming from the front door. He quickened his pace, concern growing with each step.

He swung the door open and was met with the sight of you, fumbling with your keys, your eyes glazed and your movements uncoordinated. Wally's eyes widened in surprise. He had seen you tipsy before, maybe a bit more carefree and giggly after a couple of drinks, but never like this. You were undeniably drunk.

"Y/N?" Wally called out softly, stepping closer to you. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your vision clearly struggling to focus. A lazy grin spread across your face as you recognized him. "Wallyyyy!" you slurred, stumbling forward. "Hi!"

Wally quickly closed the distance between you, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. "Hey, easy there," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and concern. "What happened? I've never seen you like this before."

You leaned heavily against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Had a few... too many," you mumbled, your words barely coherent. "The team... we were celebrating."

"Celebrating what?" Wally asked, guiding you inside and closing the door behind you. He helped you over to the couch, where you promptly collapsed, giggling.

"Just... being awesome," you said with a hiccup. "You know how it is."

Wally chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know how it is. But I think you might have overdone it a little tonight."

You groaned, your hands covering your face. "I feel like the room is spinning."

"Here, let me get you some water," Wally offered, heading to the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a glass of water, which you gratefully accepted. He watched as you sipped it slowly, hoping it would help you feel a bit better.

As you drank, Wally sat down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. "You really should have called me. I would have come to pick you up."

You shook your head, a stubborn look crossing your face. "Didn't wanna... bother you."

Wally sighed, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You know you're never a bother to me. I worry about you."

Your eyes softened at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "I'm sorry, Wally."

He smiled, his heart melting at your vulnerability. "It's okay. Just promise me you'll call next time, alright?"

You nodded, your eyelids growing heavy. "Promise."

Wally gently helped you lie down on the couch, draping a blanket over you. "Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything."

As you drifted off to sleep, Wally sat beside you, watching over you protectively. He had never seen you so vulnerable, and it reminded him just how important you were to him. He would always be there for you, no matter what. And as he sat there, he silently vowed to make sure you were safe and cared for, through thick and thin.

Hours passed, and Wally remained vigilant by your side. Every so often, he would check to make sure you were still comfortable, adjusting the blanket or brushing a stray hair from your face. The night was peaceful, the only sounds being your soft, steady breathing and the occasional rustle of leaves outside.

At one point, you stirred, mumbling something incoherent. Wally leaned in closer, trying to catch your words. "Wally... I love you," you murmured, barely audible in your sleep.

A smile spread across Wally's face, warmth flooding his chest. "I love you too, Y/N," he whispered back, even though he knew you probably couldn't hear him. The sentiment was genuine, and he hoped you would remember it when you woke up.

As dawn approached, Wally decided to make you a hearty breakfast. He slipped into the kitchen, moving quietly so as not to disturb you. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and fresh coffee soon filled the apartment, a comforting reminder of normalcy after the night's events.

When you finally woke up, the sun was peeking through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. You sat up slowly, rubbing your temples and groaning at the dull ache in your head. "Ugh, what happened last night?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

Wally appeared in the doorway, holding a tray laden with breakfast. "Morning, babe," he greeted with a grin. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," you replied, attempting to smile despite the discomfort.

Wally placed the tray on the coffee table in front of you and sat down. "Here, eat something. It'll help."

You looked at the spread before you and your stomach grumbled in response. "Thanks, Wally," you said, genuinely grateful.

As you ate, Wally filled you in on the previous night's events. You listened, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "I can't believe I got that drunk," you said, shaking your head. "I must have looked ridiculous."

Wally reached out, taking your hand in his. "Hey, we all have our moments. I'm just glad you're okay. And it was kind of adorable, seeing you all giggly and carefree."

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Well, I'm glad you were here to take care of me. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You don't have to worry about that," Wally assured you. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

The two of you spent the morning together, enjoying breakfast and each other's company. As the day went on, the headache faded, replaced by a warm feeling of contentment. You knew that with Wally by your side, you could face anything, even the aftermath of a wild night out. And from that day forward, you made sure to always call him when you needed help, knowing that he would be there in a heartbeat, ready to catch you if you stumbled.

[kinardsevan]

Buck sees an old video of Tommy during a rescue and is insanely turn on so he goes on a deep dive to find anything he can. Competency kink unlocked

It was all Evan could do to close his mouth as he stared at his brother-in-law’s phone. Chimney had mentioned the rescue earlier in the day, but fuck, something about actually seeing Tommy repel down the side of a mountain with nothing but a harness to hold him up was hot. 

It was a risky move. Granted, Evan was learning his boyfriend loved risky moves. This one in particular though, had been in an icy downpour in the middle of December. He’d been the only one tall enough to be able to make the drop between where the rope ended and the cliffside in order to reach the kids who had fallen there and get them back up into the harness so they could be pulled back up to safety. There was plenty to be said about how the rescue could’ve gotten Tommy killed, but the fact that he’d done it was hot. He’d put everyone else on the scene before himself, never mind the way his clothes were sticking to him from the rain. Even though the video was over a decade old from some news footage, just seeing had been what kept Evan going through the rest of his shift, after which he’d promptly driven to Tommy’s house, determined to get his tongue on his boyfriend's skin and lick every inch of his beautiful, beautiful chest. And that was only the beginning. 

A week and a half later, Evan was stuck on the couch, courtesy of a bad strain in his leg on a rescue of his own. He’d been ordered to sit out the following shift and rest, and of course Tommy had to work. Evan had hated it at first. At least, until he hobbled into his livingroom, halfway through an episode of Days of our Lives when the news cut in. 

It was hot. So hot that Evan had to unbutton the collar of his polo when he saw his boyfriend on the TV.

Harbor was at a scene on a highrise, trying to get people out of a partial collapse, and Tommy was fucking repelling the side of the building to get people out. The news was holding such great coverage that Evan was able to watch him get two kids, an adult, and their dog out of the building before they finally switched to an interview with Chief Simpson. And it was right about that time that Evan realized he was hard. He groaned at the realization, far too frustrated from the way watching his boyfriend work affected him, and even more frustrated at having to solve his own problem. 

Still, he didn’t forget. 

Nine hours later when Tommy stumbled through the doorway to the loft, Evan was at the door, waiting. He promptly shoved Tommy back against it and hit his knees. Tommy furrowed a brow, running a hand through Evan’s hair as he looked down at him. 

“What’s happening right now,” he asked, a little incredulously.

“Watched my sexy ass boyfriend save an entire family today,” Evan replied, unzipping his pants and reaching into them. Tommy groaned and dropped his head back against the door. “Figured he should get a reward for that.” 

Tommy tilted his head down, ready to say that it was just his job, he wasn’t doing anything extra, only to get a full view of Evan going completely down on him, pulling a moan out of the middle of his chest. 

“Fuck, Evan- oh my god.” 

Little laughs, almost cunning. And then all the way down. Tommy jolted. And then, only because he wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer otherwise, he pulled Evan off of him, pulled his pants back up. Evan scowled at him. 

“I was doing something,” he whined. 

Tommy shook his head, leaning down and sweeping his boyfriend up from the floor, tossing him over his shoulder like a ragdoll. 

“Sorry baby. My boyfriend said I need to do him instead. Besides, you said yours deserved a reward, and this is the one he wants.” 

[fourmoony]

hiiiii! so i was thinking you could write something about the boys bringing drunk james home and him and reader live together and when he sees her he's so happy and lovey. he just keeps muttering "you're so pretty" and she gets him to drink water and eat something and then gets him to bed. i feel like it would be sooo cute, him being all obsessed w reader!

thanks for requesting, lovely!!

james potter x f!reader | masterlist - 727words

cw - alcohol consumption, smoking, drunk james

James is three sheets to the wind when Sirius drops him off at the front door. Like, literally drops him. Sirius is slim, sleek like a cat, and James is all broad shoulders and brick-like muscles, so you're not surprised when the smaller one huffs a relief when you swing the door open, and then promptly allows James to collapse in a giggling heap right in the door way.

Remus is half-way down the garden path, cigarette to his mouth. He waves half-heartedly, not looking the least bit sorry that he's been less than helpful in aiding James home. It's clear Sirius has carried his best friend the entire way from the Leaky - a ten minute walk from your house.

"He's all yours," Sirius tells you, heaving breaths as though he'd run all the way here with James on his back, "Enjoy."

With that, he turns on his heel and drags Remus off into the night, still smoking his cigarette. You look down at James, who's got a warm hand wrapped gently around the exposed skin of your ankle. He's still giggling quietly to himself, a joke he's yet to let you in on, lying face up over the door jam. It can't be comfortable. Heaving a sigh, you place your hands on your hips and attempt your most stern look, "You need to get up, James."

James groans, his merry giggling coming to an end. He looks petulant, like a child, "Can't."

"Jamie, I can't carry you. Like, physically, I cannot carry you." You worry your lip, James' thumb takes up stroking gently against the ball of your ankle. It's warm, feels nice. Feels like home.

"Okay," He heaves a sigh, rolls onto his stomach and uses the door handle to pull himself up.

He wobbles, almost takes a tumble, but with a hand on the wall behind your head, you steady his balance. You walk rather clumsily to the sofa, your arm around James' waist and murmuring silent prayers that he doesn't topple over because you'd truly have to leave him there for the night, and you'd feel rotten about it.

James collapses onto the sofa with enough might to send it pushing against the wooden floor, an awful scraping noise followed by his murmured, half asleep apology. You leave him with the promise of returning with water, but you think he barely registers it. The door closes with a soft click, and you make your way to the kitchen. James has managed to turn on the television by the time you return, and is clumsily pressing buttons, eyes squinting even with his glasses on.

You make a mental note to scold Sirius for returning him to you in this state.

"Here, swap." You hold the glass out for James, voice soft.

Your boyfriend smiles, giddy and elated, as though he'd forgot you were home, "Thanks, pretty girl."

Even in his inebriation, James Potter is able to bring a flush of pink to your cheeks. You click your tongue, eyes focussed on the TV as you put on James' favourite show. He settles in to the couch, half the glass of water gone, most of it dribbling down his chin. You bite back a laugh, settling in next to him. He smells like beer and cigarettes, but under it all, he still smells like sea foam and bergamot, like your Jamie.

Instantly, his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into him and you go. You'll always go where James pulls you, ever trusting, ever loving. His lips press to the side of your head, movements jerky and sloppy in his state, but he murmurs so softly into your head, you swear it's engrained in his soul to remind you, "You're so pretty, baby."

Your head shifts, gentle eyes meeting his. They're a little glassy and unfocussed, but the love-sick look is there. You press your lips to his, soft and gentle, careful not to move too quickly lest James become nauseous. He returns the kiss with equal gentleness, though his lips taste like beer.

Your nose is wrinkled as he pulls away, his right index rather harshly trying to smooth out the lines. You laugh.

"Love you." You whisper, lips against his cheek.

You feel his lashes flutter, his hand rubbing at the skin of your hip, his lips upturn, "Love you, too."

[sickly-qt]

Whatever you've got planned for Mila/Remy and Drew/Finn will be wonderful, but I have to admit I kind of hope Mila does get pregnant - the opportunities for Remy as caretaker are just so good, lol. And I feel like Drew and Finn are actually ready to step up to be parents themselves. But like I said, whatever you decide is great.

In the meantime, Mila has to catch Jules' bug and then pass it on to Remy, right? And Julian takes care of them both? Hmm?

AH I'm so sorry it took me so long to get around to this. But you are SO right, Mila totally has to catch Jules' bug (which happened here for anyone who missed it) and don't worry Remy isn't going to make it out unscathed he's going to suffer soon. However, for now it's Mila's turn.

I hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Feeling okay?” Remy asked, looking at Mila over his glasses.

She was coming down the stairs, her auburn hair damp and hanging in loose waves over her shoulders. What really caught his attention was the way her arms were wrapped around herself and the uncomfortable look on her face

“My stomach is upset.” Mila shrugged, then collapsed onto the couch and laid her head on Remy’s shoulder, looking at the iPad on his lap, “What are you working on?”

“Just putting together some projections for a meeting later this week. Boring stuff.” 

“Don’t you ever stop working, it’s 7pm on a Saturday. You should be paying attention to me and your kids.” She complained.

“By kids you mean the one who’s still sleeping off a stomach bug from hell and the other that can’t be bothered with me because she’s distracted by some new gadget my mom got her?” Remy teased, “I work when I can find the time, and right at this moment, my time is for you.” He closed his iPad case and set it on the coffee table before wrapping his arms around Mila. “You’re warm.” Remy pushed her hair away from her face.

“I am? That’s great, I’ve probably caught what Jules is recovering from.” Mila nuzzled in closer to his side and sighed, “I really don’t feel well.”

“I know, Love. Let me get you something for that fever.”

Mila took the pills with no complaints and promptly passed out on the couch while Remy cleaned up dinner and got Leah bathed and settled for bed. After all of his dad duties he returned to his boyfriend duties and sat on the edge of the couch in front of Mila, gently shaking her awake.

She scrunched up her face and groaned, clearly not happy with having been woken up. 

“C’mon, M. Let’s head up to bed.” He said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He frowned, noticing the heat still radiating off her skin. 

“I feel sick,” she whined.

“Nauseous sick or fever and achy sick?”

“Yes.” she sighed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

Mila slowly sat up and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth muffling a small burp. Remy looked at her with raised eyebrows. 

“I’m gonna throw up.”

“Now?”

She shook her head, “I’ll make it upstairs.” She hiccupped, then grimaced and swallowed hard.

“Okay, c’mon. I actually rather like this carpet down here.”

Remy walked behind her upstairs, his hand hovering by the small of her back as she made her way to their bedroom. 

He peeked in on Jules and Leah to make sure they were both sleeping before trailing Mila into the room where he found her hovering over the toilet in their en-suite. 

“How are we doing, Lovely?” Remy asked gently, filling a glass with water and sitting it on the edge of the sink before grabbing a claw clip out of the vanity drawer.

Mila shook her head, hiccupping. A small burp came up and she gagged a trail of spit hanging from her lips into the water. 

“I don’t feel good.” She stated the obvious.

“I know.” He cooed, gathering all her hair and twisting it up into the clip. Remy settled on the edge of the tub rubbing small circles across her shoulders. 

It didn’t take long for her spine to curl and dinner to make a reappearance in the bowl.

She coughed and sputtered, small burps wracking her until a larger wave came up quickly followed by another. 

“You’re alright, M. Get it all up.” Remy continued rubbing her back. 

Strands of her hair were coming out of the claw clip and he pushed them out of her face, his hand holding her forehead. 

“Ughhh, fuck.” Mila groaned, sniffling. She reached up and flushed the toilet, sitting back. 

“Want some water?” Remy asked quietly.

She nodded, “Please?”

When she drinks some water and keeps it down for a little while they move to bed, Remy sitting the trashcan near her side of the bed just in case. 

“I’m a big girl, I can make it to the bathroom.” She mumbled tiredly.

“I know, I know. It’s just in case, M.” He crawled into bed and she quickly curled up next to him, nestling her head in his neck. 

Remy was exhausted, holding Mila’s hair back as she puked into the trashcan for the second time that night. He could only imagine how tired she was. She had run out of energy to run back and forth to the bathroom after the third trip. 

Mila hiccupped and whined, water and bile trickling into the bin hugged to her chest. 

“This is hell.” She complained, “Can you hand me some water?”

Remy reached around her and grabbed the water bottle off of the nightstand, opening it before handing it to her. She took a couple sips before burping over the trashcan. 

“You’re doing great, Love. You’re a trooper.”

“If I keep puking I’m going to scream”

“As long as you keep drinking water I think we can avoid a trip to the doctor. I just don’t want you getting as dehydrated as Jules… your fever seems to be sitting around 100.3.”

Mila took a couple more sips of water and hovered over the bin for a couple more minutes before she sat it on the floor and laid back down with a sigh.

“I’m going to apologize ahead of time for when you catch this.” She said, staring at the ceiling.

“I’ll live, just like you will. Nothing could keep me from holding back your hair while you’re puking your pretty little guts up.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Mila rolled over, laying her head on Remy’s chest. 

“I’m serious.” He ran his fingers up and down her arm, “nothing in the world could keep me from staying up all night taking care of my vomiting girlfriend.”

“You’re ridiculous… I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Remy pressed a kiss into her hair, “Get some rest, Love.”

[fairy-writes]

Heyy, i ask for a drabble with Kirishima Ayato, who's s/o is an investigator (i lnow you've written some like this once, that's how the I got the idea) soo she's like fighting againt a ghoul, and at first Ayato only hears the fight so he hurries there, and the other goul is glad to see him, thinking that he'll be saved now, but when Ayato notices that the investigator is his girlfriend, so he doesn't help the ghoul, and just watched as the ghoul gets defeated, and after that, he takes care of his girlfriend, cleaning her wounds and bandaging them.

P. S.: im sorry if this is too specific or a long request, if you don't feel like writing it there's no pressure for you to do so <3

BLOOD AND BRUISES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Kirishima Ayato x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, CCG Investigator!Reader, Human!Reader

Notes: Ayato is :re age in this (so around his 20s for those who haven’t finished :re (like me lol))

__________________________________________________________________________

You were late. 

Ayato looked down at his watch and sniffed in annoyance. Today was supposed to be a celebration of your second anniversary, but you weren’t here yet. He’d give you thirty minutes, and then he’d start looking for you. 

Half an hour later, you still weren’t at the restaurant. Not that Ayato was hungry, he had made sure to eat before coming here. Because he wasn’t about to eat human food and make himself sick. 

So, he got up, paid for his coffee, and headed out. His long overcoat was heavy around his shoulders, and he stopped just outside the restaurant. Tilting his head up, he took a deep breath, tasting cigarette smoke and smog and the scent of human blood on his tongue. 

Wait…

Blood?

He took a deeper breath and confirmed it. It was definitely blood. 

Your blood.

So he takes off. Not where he could be seen, of course. No, he walked down an alleyway and leapt up to the rooftops, where he then jumped across them in an attempt to follow your scent. 

Ayato finds you after a mere five minutes of travel. You’re wrapped up in a fight against a ghoul. A lower-level one, but a ghoul nonetheless. Your coat issued to you by the CCG is shredded and stained with blood, but you’re still standing. You hold your quinque tightly in both hands, skin taught across the bone where you grip the weapon until your hands are shaking. 

You really do have quite a beautiful weapon, as morbid as that sounds with how it was made. It’s long and sleek, pulsing different colors of green and blue as opposed to the regular red and purple.

The ghoul notices him instantly. As do you. The only difference is you just relax the tiniest bit. The ghoul flat-out sits on the ground.

“About time backup arrived! I’ve been fighting forever!” The ghoul whines and Ayato cocks an eyebrow, leaning on the side of a building. 

“Whoever said I was backup?” He says, and the ghoul sits upright,

“What do you—”

Your quinque flashes out, quick as a whip, and cuts their throat. The ghoul’s eyes widen, go blank, and roll back into their skull with a dying gurgle. Ayato watches as you flick your wrist, cleaning the blood off your weapon and collapsing it back into your briefcase before looking at him with a tired look. 

“Sorry, I didn’t make it to dinner.” You say before you promptly pass out.

Ayato carries you to your shared apartment, and by the time he adjusts you in his arms to unlock the door, you’re slowly coming to. He can both feel and smell the blood seeping from your body onto his back and through his coat. He carries you on his back, looking for all the world like someone carrying their friend home who had too much to drink. 

“Ayato?” You mumble and shift, letting out a quiet gasp of pain as you move. 

“We’re home.” He says back quietly. He shuts the door behind you both and settles you down on the couch, leaving your side for only a moment to check the house for intruders and get first aid supplies. Under the sink, all the way at the back. You keep it stocked regularly on account of your frequent injuries in the line of duty. 

Sometimes, he wishes you’d quit. Wishes you’d get a regular job like an office worker or something. Hell, he’d even help you find a job if that’s what you wanted! But it wasn’t. You wanted to save people from “bad ghouls.” Ones that would kill for sport or just for fun. You weren’t particularly powerful, but you were cunning and quick. 

In time he had been contemplating your job choices and retrieving the first aid kit; you had managed to take off your coat and unbutton your shirt. The lacerations on your torso were plentiful but, thankfully, not that deep. Though they are bruising, he can tell by how tenderly you move. You’d likely only need some stitches, something he was well versed in now. 

Ayato cracks an ice pack, wraps it in a rag, and presses it to the black eye forming at your right eye. You mumble a “thank you” and hold it there, hissing lightly as the coolness spreads over the injury. 

It isn’t long before the smell of your blood is almost overwhelming, but Ayato pushes through. He stitches you up, applies antiseptic, and, overall, tries to fight the bubbling anger toward himself that he’s feeling. 

To think you had been so close this entire time! He should have come sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt. Maybe he could have helped you out more. 

A hand on his face catches him off guard. 

“You’re overthinking things.” You tease gently, and he just huffs. 

“I just worry about you.” He says quietly, and your teasing expression melts into one of pure, unadulterated love. 

“You got to me in time.” You soothe, and he nods, tightening the bandages around your midsection just enough so they wouldn’t hurt but would still stay in place. You stop him once he’s done patching you up and press a kiss to his lips. He returns it greedily, careful not to aggravate your wounds. 

“You gotta apply for workman’s comp.” He says against your mouth, and you just laugh.

“I’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning.” You say as he scoops you up and carries you to bed. 

You fall asleep before Ayato that night, which in and of itself isn’t unusual. He’s a night owl, and you always have to get up early in the morning for work. But it gives him time to sit and think. 

You could’ve died tonight. 

If he hadn’t gotten there and distracted the ghoul…

Ayato shakes his head and looks to the side where you’re sleeping as soundly as your injuries allow. 

You’re alive. Alive and breathing. He should be grateful for that.

He shouldn’t take that for granted. 

[bellysoupset]

asking for a tiny fic request of the aftermath of one of jon’s vertigo episodes with leo as a very concerned caretaker

"Leo," Jonah groaned, as his fiance shoved him back on the couch unceremoniously when he attempted to get up, "I'm fine."

"No, you ain't," Leo scoffed, shooting him a death glare, "I don't want to see you up and about any time soon, there's nothing that's urgent enough to get up for and I can get you whatever you want."

Jonah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew Leo was only worried, yesterday's night had been a nasty vertigo episode that stretched well into almost dawn. Every time he so much as turned his head it felt like the whole world was twirling and catapulting upon itself; His stomach had decided the best way to help with the circumstances was to get rid of everything Jon had eaten since, maybe, kindergarten... And the episode had hit him so out of nowhere that Jonah had caused a minor car crash in the garage of their building.

He had been driving Leo's car, because the blonde was feeling sleepy after a heavy dinner, and promptly decided to drive straight into a wall when his brain went haywire. Part of Jonah was extremely glad Leo's old, beaten up, 2005 Ford Freestyle would finally have a reason to go, but the bigger part of him was mortified by being the motive his boyfriend had a large purple bruise on his forearm, where he had braced against the dashboard.

"I know you're worried," Jonah tried saying, his voice calm and diplomatic, "I know yesterday was scary, but-"

"No buts," Leo continued to move around, a hurricane of worry and neurotic energy. Jon wasn't sure the blonde had slept at all last night, not even a blink, and that probably explained his bitchy mood, "you drove into a wall. You're still super dizzy. We have a balcony. I want you sat-"

"I'm not going to fall off the balcony," Jon rolled his eyes and tried once more to get up, "it's across the room and we have a net sealing it off anyway because of JD and-" he was talking and pushing himself up, his bladder begging for relief and Leo let out an angry huff and dropped what was in his arms — yesterday's mess, clothes stained by vomit and their hot to go box of food that had collapsed on Leo's lap — and crossed the living room, shoving Jonah back down like a big bully.

"Jonah! I'm serious, stop being such a stubborn asshole all the time-"

"I'm going to pee my pants," Jonah said between his teeth, glaring at Leo. The shoving back certainly didn't help the woozy feeling he still sported, like his head was badly screwed to his neck, "unless you let me get up and go to the bathroom, like I've been trying for the past ten minutes."

"Oh," Leo's whole face turned cherry red and he scratched at his cheek, embarrassed, "Well- Why didn't you just say so!?"

"I've been trying, but my huge pain in the ass of a boyfriend-"

"Don't say that," Leo pouted and Jonah rolled his eyes, his teasing tone having apparently gone over the blonde's head.

"Baby, I'm fine, I promise you. It's just aftershocks-" He never quite finished his sentence, as Leo looped an arm around his waist and pulled him up, half supporting his weight, "uh- Like I said, I don't need-"

"I don't give a shit what you think you need," Leo wrinkled his nose, dragging him towards the bathroom, Jonah trying to squirm out of his hold... But it was actually quite nice to know he wasn't about to walk into a wall (again) or accidentally step on JD (again again).

"Are you planning on helping me pee too?" He teased lightly, when Leo entered the bathroom with him, "Wagner, get out of here."

"You have nothing there I haven't seen yet," Leo said, huffing, but he did let go of Jonah's waist and then turned around, standing to the door much like a bodyguard, "you terrified me last night."

"I know, I'm sorry," Jonah cringed, then glared at his fiance's head, "I can't pee with you watching!"

"I'm not looking!"

"You're ten inches away from me! Get out of the bathroom!"

"Prude much!?" Leo rolled his eyes, but there was a smile coloring his words and he did stomp out of the bathroom, pulling the door ajar, "you've never had stage fright with me befORE!" His voice went up as Jonah groaned loudly and grabbed on the sink in order to haul himself to the door and slam it shut.

He let out a sigh, resting his forehead on it and laughing quietly to himself as he heard Leo's voice loud and clear through the wood, "DON'T LOCK IT!"

[cascowriteswords]

hi everyone 👋 i wrote something  [[the one where i found this in my google docs from months and months ago and finally finished it and accidentally created a teeny tiny fwb au]]

“Is this why you invited me over?”

Lexa humphs. She tries to take her phone back from Clarke’s grabby little hands but no luck; Clarke uses her shoulder to block her, shoulders rounding as she leans over the phone possessively like Gollum with a ring. 

“It’s not, but - oh, wow, Lex. These are - these are really bad.” Clarke can barely get her words out around the laughter bubbling up from her chest. Lexa’s ears burn and her cheeks pink as she collapses back against the couch, half wishing the cushion would just swallow her whole. She crosses her arms and tucks her chin against her sternum, the definition of sulking while Clarke ridicules her dating profile. She swipes through profile pictures - the main one with Lexa proudly holding an 8lb bass she’d caught last summer, the next of her locked in an arm-wrestling match with Anya, another posing with Lincoln’s golden retriever puppy in the middle of a baseball diamond. 

Lexa thought the pictures were good, making her look attractive and showcasing some of her personality - outdoorsy, athletic, good with animals. 

Clarke apparently doesn’t share her opinion. 

“The fish pictures. What is it with the fish pictures? I thought it was a straight white boy thing but. Well, you don’t quite fit that bill.“ 

“I’ve gotten a lot of matches and compliments on my pictures, thanks. Especially on the one with the bass. Can I have my phone back now?”

“Yeah, I see that. Hm, here - Kylie Jones. Has a boyfriend but wants to experiment if you can be discreet. She’s excited to have found a lesbian that isn’t so ‘butchy’ - her words, definitely not mine. And then Dana Walters, who has a Let’s Go Brandon t-shirt on in her profile pic. Really reeling in the all-around 10s I can see.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Lexa lurches forward and catches Clarke by surprise enough to wrest her phone out of her hands. She promptly hits the lock button and slips it back into her pocket. “They’re not all like that. I’ve gotten plenty of perfectly nice, fully vaccinated girls replying too.”

“Why are you even on Tinder?” Clarke changes her line of questioning. “I’ve never heard of anything good coming from it. People just use it to hook up.”

Lexa shrugs. “Maybe that’s all I’m looking for. I’m not searching for love.” 

Because she’s already found it. She exchanges a meaningful look with Clarke, who undoubtedly picks up on her unspoken thought. But Clarke had told her she isn’t ready to be with anyone, not yet. 6 months ago. And Lexa’s willing to wait - she knows that Clarke’s ex-boyfriend had cheated on her and understands that she isn’t ready to jump back into dating right away. But she’s also human and has needs and 6 months is a long time. So, Tinder.

Clarke looks thoughtful. She keeps staring at Lexa and Lexa stares back, not quite sure why her heart is beating a little faster in her chest. “So you’re just looking for meaningless sex? No strings attached?” 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I can do that.” Clarke looks completely serious but Lexa’s certain she must be joking. She’d rejected her when she'd asked her out on a date all those months ago and they’ve been platonic friends ever since, and now this? She’s offering sex? Cannot compute. “You don’t need to go out and meet these random strangers. That doesn’t sound safe, or fun.”

Lexa can think of a dozen reasons that’s a horrible idea, starting with the fact that she’s in love with Clarke and Clarke is not in love with her. It’s a recipe for a disaster. “Uh, it’s nice of you to offer but -” 

“Are you horny right now?” Clarke interrupts, effectively shutting Lexa up. “Because if I’m honest you’ve been driving me nuts in those jeans all day.” Her eyes rake up and down Lexa’s body and Lexa swallows, mouth suddenly dry. Clarke’s hand is on her knee now and she isn’t sure how or when it got there. 

“Clarke, we really shouldn’t,” she says, but she’s unable to keep the hitch out of her breath when Clarke scoots a little closer, slides her hand a little higher. It could be a trick of the light but it looks like her pupils have gotten bigger, infiltrating normally-blue territory. 

“You don’t want to?”

“You know I do,” Lexa laments. “It’s just that -”

“Feelings. I know,” Clarke sighs. She’s rubbing circles over the faded denim covering Lexa’s inner thigh now, absentmindedly. “So you’d really rather fuck some stranger?”

“Not at all,” Lexa admits. “But…” 

“Maybe it would be easier than you think. To separate the physical from feelings?” Clarke suggests. Lexa’s pretty sure sex would just compound her feelings. She bites her lip, torn and uncertain. Her heart and her body want one thing but her head is warning her against it. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stop pushing, I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole. You said no.” Clarke says, smiling in a sweetly apologetic way. She pulls away and returns to her separate space on the couch, sighing, looking adorably flustered. 

Flustered because she wants Lexa. Fuck. And Lexa wants her. So what are they even doing, sitting here feeling tortured? Her resolve breaks quickly. “Okay,” she says. Clarke’s eyes snap up to meet hers, full of question. “I know you said you’re not ready for a relationship right now, but if you feel like you’re ready to sleep together then we can try -”

Clarke is across the couch and in Lexa’s lap so quickly it almost knocks the wind out of her. Lexa had thought she was the only one pining and wanting and lusting after her best friend but despite Clarke’s rejection, she seems equally as desperate and frantic as she crushes her lips to Lexa’s. And fuck, it’s even better than Lexa had imagined it would be. Clarke’s lips taste like her vanilla chapstick and she winds her fingers through Lexa’s hair and Lexa has never felt so consumed by a kiss. So wholly unable to think of anything else, her pulse fluttering wildly as her hands find and settle on Clarke’s hips. Clarke reacts to the touch and grinds down and Lexa is briefly embarrassed by the moan that flies out of her mouth, until Clarke mumbles, “Fuck, that’s so hot,” against her lips. She nips at Lexa’s lower lip then, pulling it between her teeth and biting down just hard enough to sting, eliciting another moan. 

Lexa normally prefers to maintain a little bit more control during sexual encounters, but with Clarke in her lap kissing her furiously and rocking her hips she finds herself more than willing to relinquish some control. Things move fast and slow simultaneously from there, time blurring as they lose themselves in one another, all roaming hands and hungry mouths. After an indeterminate amount of time Clarke reaches down and deftly undoes the button of Lexa’s jeans. Following a quick check-in to which Lexa very quickly consents, Clarke slips her hand under the elastic of Lexa’s underwear and runs her fingers through her, finding her already slick with anticipation. 

“Fuck, Clarke,” Lexa gasps at the sensation, hips jerking involuntarily. 

“I’ve got you,” Clarke murmurs softly, stilling long enough that Lexa opens her eyes, not quite remembering when she’d shut them in the first place. She’s not prepared for what she sees; the softness in Clarke’s eyes as they search hers, the lust and want clear in them but also something…else. Something she can’t quite put her finger on, and she doesn’t have time because Clarke starts moving again and renders her incapable of thinking of anything other than how fucking good that feels. 

“I’ve got you,” Clarke says again, before leaning back in to swallow Lexa’s groans.

Lexa is fucked - literally and figuratively. Because the more Clarke says that, and the more Clarke keeps touching her like that, the more she realizes that ready for her or not, she’s already very much Clarke’s.

[mutival]

Okay so I wrote a Cassandra fanfic

Can’t believe I’m writing about a cannibal but here we are. Any constructive criticism is always appreciated! English isn’t my first language and this is like the third fanfic I’ve ever written. Idk if Cassandra is acting like she would canonically so PLEASE lecture me on that as well if need be

Thank you!

Fluff/Sleeping/Cassandra Dimitrescu x reader RL

Opening night is always messy backstage, I now know that better than anyone else.

After my Juliet, Cassandra Dimitrescu herself, and I managed to round the show up, we were far too busy to properly reflect and fraternize, much to her dismay. Bouquet after bouquet, fan after never-ending fan, there was no end to the amount of socializing

Cassandra had to do before we could properly discuss the play. However, I wasn’t let off scot-free either. The second the curtains dropped, I was whisked off to the side door by the producer, where I fell face-first onto my roommate, Daniela, in the cold night. The darling girl was holding flowers, of which now there were none left unscathed. She yelped when she fell backwards, softening my blow. ‘’MC, the flowers!’’ Daniela exclaimed, feeling the thorns of the roses puncture her perfect abs. I haphazardly shot up, nearly collapsing again from the strain. However, as fast as I rose to my feet, I was slammed down again by the weight of my lovely second roommate, Angie, flanking me from the left. I crashed into a piece of decor, promptly catching Angie but leaving nothing salvageable of the castle wall prop. The ruckus made me wonder if Cassandra would leave her socialite group to come check what all the noise was about. Angie practically squealed when she finally stabilized, straddling my hips. ‘’Roomie!’’ She yelped, I only noticed just now she had a celebratory wine bottle in her hands. ‘’Courtesy of the Dimitrescu winery!’’ She pressed it into my hands, a cute silver ribbon covering the neck. Daniela rubbed the back of her neck, seemingly looking uncomfortable. ‘’Don’t tell Cass or my mom. I kind of-’’ Angie cut her off. ‘’She stole it!’’ At that, I gasped. ‘’Dani?!’’ I scolded her, holding the evidence of a crime that could get me in some deep shit with the family I so desperately wanted to impress. Dani gave me an awkward grin. ‘’Only the best for our star!’’

Star.

‘’Star.. Yeah, damn right! I am a star now, am I not?’’ I plucked Angie off of me, striking a pose that could rival Cassandra’s. Angie cheered, grabbing me by the arm. She mumbled something about getting caught, and off we went to the dorms. I took Dani’s hand in mine with my free hand, forming a little almost duck-like train.

-

About 4 hours later, I'm laying in bed. Sleep doesn’t come easy after those 5 AM recitals. However, seeing Cassandra beaming on stage and.. oh, right. We kissed. Oh my god. We kissed. In front of HUNDREDS of people?! I groaned, my cheeks heating up when I remembered. Angie was drunkenly sleeping on the couch in a position her aunt would’ve definitely scolded her for. She was awfully strict on posture, after all. I’d run into her a few times before while unceremoniously getting locked in the auditorium. I still don’t know what possessed me to take Angie’s dare to stay in the auditorium to hunt for a phantom. ‘’Phantom my ass, if you believe in ghosts, you must be really stupid’’ I had declared. After wrecking another piece of decor in an attempt of getting away from the phantom I claimed wasn’t real, I got a brief introduction.

I yawned, grabbing my jacket. I was certain no shop would be open at this hour, but I felt compelled to take a walk to clear my head from all the fuss and chaos the show had caused. After pulling on my shoes, I snuck past the snoring Angie coddling a vodka bottle in her sleep, murmuring “I won’t let you get wasted” and “I’ll take care of you” and snuck out. I strolled towards the campus, staring up at the room where the student council resided during the day. How peculiar, someone had left the lights on. However, that isn’t my problem and I definitely won’t be making it my problem, I thought as I roamed around the center of the campus. I took a sharp left past the now calm auditorium towards the-

A faint rustling can be heard.

What the fuck?

I whipped my head around at near lightning speed. Another phantom?! It seemed to be following me. I struggled to grab my phone from my pocket, dropping it in the process of getting the flashlight on. I cursed to myself, bending down to grab my device as fast as humanly possible. Whatever was after me must have heard me, for footsteps rapidly came closer. This was it. I was gonna die. But there was so much I hadn't done, so many things I hadn’t said. Before I even registered the voice calling my name, I had chucked my phone in their direction. It flew through the air gracefully before colliding with my pursuer, who let out a sharp hiss. A… hiss? I looked up, barely making out their figure. The adrenaline started to wear off once I heard her voice. ‘’Fuck, ow! That might bruise!’’ She whined, almost stomping her feet like a little baby. I strutted towards the ‘’stranger danger’’. ‘’Cassandra?’’ I could finally make out her face, albeit her voice having been a better clue after having heard it day and night throughout the last couple of months. ‘’Call me Cass.’’ Even injured, she was smug as ever. ‘’I’m so sorry, Cass!’’ I gasped, seeing her covering her eye and huffing. However, I quickly changed my tone. ‘’But what the fuck were you doing, sneaking around in the dark?!’’ I knew the answer to that all too well, but I still couldn’t help but be worried I had seriously hurt her. She bent down, taking my phone and returning it to me before she spoke. ‘’The nightmares. I can’t… I don’t want to go to sleep, but I’m so tired. I thought a walk might help me.’’ She whined, almost like an upset puppy. ‘’I don’t want a full 8 hours of torture right after such a good performance.’’ she huffed. I felt bad for her, I really did. So, I asked the following; ‘’How about I come with you? I’ll be able to wake you if you start having nightmares.’’ She looked positively puzzled. ‘’Bold offer, because you do sleep like a normal human being. Who says you can stay awake longer than I can?’’ She grinned at me, teasing me, challenging me. I responded stoically. ‘’Your screaming will do the trick. Now come on.’’ I extended my hand to her. Oh god, what was I thinking?! Surely she wouldn’t-

But she did.

And now here I am. In Cassandra’s shirt, in her bedroom.

Believe me, I really tried this time to get my own clothes. However, my courage quickly parted from me once Angie stirred and murmured awful song lyrics in her sleep. Fearing I might wake her, I asked Cassandra for a shirt. She handed me one, making promises about not peeping. Looking in the mirror, however, I can confidently say she most definitely did not intend on keeping her promise, staring at my reflection through the window.

I laid down on the bed, waiting for her to come lay next to me. She did, eventually, but something about her demeanor changed. She wasn’t chatty or flirty anymore, her face only resembling flusteredness and.. fear. I can’t say I was any better, anxiously twiddling with my hair. Sharing a bed with THE Cassandra Dimitrescu was a big deal, after all. ‘’..Hey.’’ I whispered, looking at her. She could barely meet my gaze. ‘’It must be hard, letting people in.’’ I muttered, taking one of her hands in my own. She looked down at our hands, and then intertwined our fingers. I’ll forever be grateful for the lights being off, because I was redder than her mother’s lipstick. She murmured something under her breath, before speaking more clearly. ‘’It is. It’s just a struggle, you know?’’ She looked at me expectantly, her gaze piercing through my very soul. I nodded in response, yawning. She understood I was tired. I could swear she scooted closer, but at this point I was too dazed to care. ‘’Goodnight, Cass.’’ I spoke in muted tones. Before I drifted off, I heard her purr. ‘’Goodnight, my star.’’

Around 8 AM, it happened. I awoke to Cassandra stirring, she was definitely a lot closer to me than she was before we went to sleep. I contemplated waking her, but she really needed sleep. Instead, I went with an irrational solution. I gently started rubbing circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her, whispering sweet nothings to her. Seeing as she wrapped an arm around me and slowly came to a halt in her wrestling with the bedsheets, I deemed my mission successful. One of her arms snuck under my waist, pulling me even closer. She was tucked into the crook of my neck, her soft breath on my pulse point. After letting out a small yelp at the sudden contact, I eased into her. Her arms were brass, not as defined as Daniela’s but definitely rugged from all her work in the mechanic’s shop. There was no going back now, her grip was far too strong and comfortable, oh so very comfortable for me to attempt to wrestle out of. I didn’t want to either, continuing to gently draw shapes on her back. As I, once again, drifted off to sleep I heard it. I swear I heard it, albeit not even I could believe my own ears.

She whispered, ever so softly;

‘’You’re so adorable, my star.’’

The little kiss on my neck confirmed I wasn’t dreaming, for when I looked in the mirror the next morning, there it was.

Her lipstick.

So every time I convinced myself I was crazy..

I most definitely wasn’t. This was real.

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

For the prompts... Which social media platforms they use and which they hate. This could be for all of them... or as many as you want.

It's been a hot minute since I was on twitter but I've wanted to play with this idea for a bit and you provided the perfect opportunity! THANK YOU! Please forgive the laziness in formatting and choosing handles and also any weird inaccuracies about how the platform actually works. Enjoy! :D

“It happened again!” Alex mutters as he collapses face first onto the couch in the studio, arm extended above his head with his phone cradled in his hand.

The others look at one another and back at him.

“What happened again?” Julie asks.

Alex waves his phone at her without moving his face from the cushion and she gets up from where she’d been seated at the piano to grab it from him. She quickly enters his passcode and is met with a screen filled with Twitter notifications. She chokes down a small chuckle before opening up his app.

Luke and Reggie look over her shoulder to see what the big deal is. They both *have* Twitter but neither of them use it. Reggie prefers being able to entertain his followers on TikTok and Luke… well, Luke insists that nothing replaces that in-person connection with fans.

sunsetcurve4eva caught the boys (and Julie) at their show last night! SO GOOD! Always love seeing them play #sunsetcurve #julieandthephantoms *attached video*

Insertusernamehere replying to sunsetcurve4eva their drummer is incredible!

alexmercer replying to insertusernamehere he’s alright i guess

insertusernamehere replying to alexmercer lemme guess, you could do better?

strummingdrumming replying to alexmercer 🙄where’d you even come from? it takes nothing to acknowledge someone else’s talent

Reggie can’t stop the giggle that escapes as Julie scrolls through hundreds of people coming to Alex’s defense and Luke snorts at the next tweet he sees.

alexmercerislife replying to insertusernamehere strummingdrumming JFC do none of you even realize who that is?

“Oof,” Alex huffs out when Reggie jumps onto his back, laying out over his friend.

“Own your awesomeness, Alex!” Reggie exclaims, turning to rest his cheek between Alex’s shoulder blades and staring up at Julie and Luke who are both bearing huge grins of their own.

“Yeah, Alex,” Julie adds. 

“What awesomeness is Alex owning?” the four of them turn to look at where the new and unexpected voice had come from. “There’s a lot to choose from!” Willie smirks down at his boyfriend who promptly sits up, knocking Reggie off of him and onto the floor.

“Hey!” Reggie cries good humouredly as Alex reaches grabby hands out to Willie who complies immediately and allows himself to be wrapped into a hug as he stands between Alex’s legs.

“They’re all being mean to me,” Alex mumbles.

Willie laughs as he runs a hand through Alex’s hair, “I’m sure. What is it this time?”

Julie just hands Willie the phone and he lets out a guffaw as he reads through the same tweets that Julie and the boys had just worked through. He locks Alex’s phone and throws it onto the couch beside him before reaching down to gently grab Alex by the chin and force him to look up at Willie.

“When will you learn?” Willie asks earnestly before leaning down to drop a peck on Alex’s lips. “People love you! Let them.”

Reggie nods while Luke points at Willie in agreement, “what he said!”

“Fine,” Alex grumbles as he pulls Willie down into his lap. 

“We’ll bully you into loving yourself if we have to,” Julie says with a grin.

“Sounds homophobic,” Alex mutters into Willie’s shoulder.

Julie laughs as she rolls her eyes before quickly pausing as she realizes something, “wait, you said again. This has happened before?”

“So. many. times,” Alex cries as he collapses back into the couch. 

“I’m confused,” Reggie wonders as his brow creases in thought, “if these people love you, how do they not know you’re you?”

Julie lowers herself to sit beside Reggie on the floor where he’d made himself comfortable, “not every fan is a stan, Reg. You know that.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Luke chimes in. He loves their fans but there is a limit to how much being recognized and photographed that he can handle. 

“And maybe they’re new fans or this was their first time seeing or hearing us,” Julie adds with a shrug.

“I just love that it allows this to keep happening,” Willie grins, looking back toward Alex who had covered his face with his forearm. “When you say so many times…?”

“This is at least the third.”

Luke lets out another chuckle, “serves you right.”

Alex removes his arm from in front of his face to glare at Luke. 

Reggie’s eyes widen as he realizes something and he pats his pockets, looking for his own phone. He comes up empty and scans the room before spotting it and crawling over to grab it. He types for a moment and grins as Alex’s phone chimes from beside him.

thereginaldpeters replying to insertusernamehere alexmercer yeah, own your awesomeness Alex

Prompt List

[brick-a-doodle-do]

You say you want prompts….

What if the giant who used to be quiet (maybe for not so good reasons) but came out of their shell with the help of their tiny has a short relapse where they completely don’t talk and the tiny is just there to help

Perhaps g!Ranboo with t!Tommy or t!Tubbo (or whoever I just want fluff—)

speedwriting on vacation? speedwriting on vacation.

i was gonna wait for you

wc: 1849

cw: swearing, panic, brief mutism (is that the right word? the internet gave me it), mention of (sfw) vore/mouthplay

—–—

Ranboo is going to murder him.

Tommy stumbles against the lapping wind, which pushes at his cheeks and makes them like ice. Rain patters onto him, each drop like a bucket being dropped on his head.

Shivering, he pulls his coat around him, trying to act like it wasn’t already drenched. He stumbles again, adjusting his footing right before toppling over. A blurry light shines in the distance, through an array of trees with branches that clash loudly with one another. With each of his steps, above the sounds of the wind and pouring rain, there’s a faint clicking noise. Prior to going out into the belly of the storm, Tommy had been occupied shoveling handfuls of rocks into his pocket to assure he wouldn’t get swept into the night by the gale.

The tiny made his way through the clearing, the light of the house growing nearer at an agitating pace, and by the time he finds footing on the pathway to his hole in the wall, the rain has seemed to disperse a little. He scrunches his hair up and water seeps from it, the same as he pinches the fabric of his coat. 

For the most part, the house seemed sleepy enough. Maybe he could get to bed before Ranboo confronts him. He treks the path, his soaked and muddy shoes sliding along the floor and nearly having him fall over enough times for him to discard them at their third murder attempt at him. 

The rest of the way was quick, until he finally reached his nook. The lights were out, just as he had left them. He squints in the darkness, feeling his way through the area before collapsing on a makeshift couch. He sighs, pulling his coat off and tossing it to the side with a squelch. He cringes at it, then decides he should probably do something about the wet mess he could call himself. 

He gets off the couch and flicks his lights on, which flicker for a moment before lighting the space up in warm lighting while projecting star-shaped shadows on the wall. He grabs his jacket from the floor and hangs it up, positioning a portion of a towel, (courtesy of Ranboo), underneath it to collect the fallen raindrops. 

Doing the same with his shirt, he then hovers over a basket of clean and dry clothes. 

Tommy is mid-way through struggling on a makeshift hoodie before a soft sob carries through into the walls. 

He—not before adjusting the shirt on him—pauses, interest piquing at the sound. Ranboo?, his mind supplies, thoughts of the human’s reaction to his disappearance already filtering through his thoughts. At another sob, Tommy promptly replaces his pants and hurries down the hall to the opening in the kitchen. 

Stepping out onto the counter, it wasn't hard to spot Ranboo, curled up on his couch, staring blankly out onto the floor, shuddering occasionally as the post-cry hiccups settled in. 

Tommy’s seen that gaze before. 

Guilt bubbles in his gut, the feeling in him as he remembers seeing Ranboo look like that, quiet and still after events regarding another borrower they had scared off. Tommy had gone to talk them out of the demeanor and in the process befriended them, and now months down the line they stare at the floor the same way they had back then. It didn't take much for Tommy to recognize that the trance he’d put the human in traced back to none other than himself. 

He sighs, arms crossing instinctually as he begins to adjust to a plan. Water drips inaudibly from his soaked hair, tracing down his face and dripping down his bare arms, a small puddle forming at his feet before he takes off again, along the length of the counter, (While clambering through stray things on its surface), until he reaches the edge of it, then steps off to an installed plank for him to walk along, the thing narrow and uneven although plentifully useful. 

Tommy passes through Ranboo’s excuse of a dining area and then into the living room, silent as he can as to not disturb Ranboo into panicking further. The human’s head rests on the couch with their hands folded solemnly over the edge of the couch. 

While sturdily inching his way down the pathway, Tommy debates on calling out to his friend, his mouth opening and closing with ‘Ranboo!’ stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

He sucks it up and stops in his tracks momentarily, cupping his water-wrinkled hands over his mouth and yelling out a fond: “Ranboo! My guy!” 

Ranboo’s still for a moment, Tommy narrowing his eyes at the scene before opening them up again as he human shuffles up from the couch and looks around for the borrower. He waves, attracting their attention towards Tommy. Ranboo’s eyes soften instantly, though they make no move for their little friend. 

Tommy, not knowing what to do with such a distance recognition as Ranboo’s, fills the silence.

“Oh, man, Ranboo, that storm out there,” Tommy starts, groaning for emphasis while continuing down the path to the, (still half-frozen), human, “I fucking went across the clearing for acorns, they're in season and I figured …. uh, well, I didn't really have s plan, but then it became fucking dark as shit and only at sundown, so I filled my pockets with rocks so I wouldn't blow away, I—”

“Were you leaving me?” Ranboo says, cutting Tommy off purely in relief. His voice is quiet, nearly cracking had he spent any more time crying. 

“What?” Tommy asks, dumbfounded at the question. By now, he’s halfway across the floor of Ranboo’s floor; halfway to the couch. 

“You left, and I have to ask if it was because of me,” Ranboo repeats, more emphasis and his voice a little louder, though Tommy doubts any lift in Ranboo’s demeanor. 

Tommy shakes his head, knowing well Ranboo couldn't see it but perhaps as a reassurance to himself. 

“No, no! Dickhead do you really think I’d do that? Ranboo, I wouldn't have came back if I was leaving you,” Tommy says, scoffing half-heartedly before adding a swift: “which I wasn't.”

Ranboo hums, still making no move to welcome home the borrower, who stands below his outstretched hands awaiting any kind of movement. 

“Jack was a one time thing, he just got scared, like the ass he is,” Tommy continued on. He stands, folding his arms over his torso impatiently despite knowing he shouldn't be worried about the status of his stance. 

At the most, Tommy can barely reach the tip of Ranboo’s finger no matter how much he extends his height.

Falling back down onto his heels, Tommy huffs. “One time, I walked in on Jack borrowing food and he thought I was a human. Scared the shit out of him for sure, like a human could come from the other side of the cabinet.”

Ranboo stays quiet. 

“...can you let me up?” Tommy asks, finally. Much to his dismay, he’s met with an immediate response that almost seems mindless. Ranboo’s hand inches down barely, though enough for Tommy to cling onto him. Secure, Ranboo says nothing as he brings the borrower up to the couch, resting on the unoccupied side of the pillow that he had been resting on. 

Tommy then adjusts to the uneven surface and looks up at Ranboo, who's face is covered, the strap of their seeming mask the only thing he can make out. They put the mask back on. 

(Regarding the incident of Jack, Ranboo had sulked around the house in a mask. He never understood why and never cared to question it after he took it off, and now he doesn't have the gut to ask now.)

“I'm back, aren't I? I still touched your abnormally long fingers,” Tommy points out, partially because he wanted out of his thoughts. Ranboo doesn't crack a smile at his thrown-together humor. Or, at least he assumes they don't as the mask obscures the one prominent indicator. 

Tommy pulls his lips to the side in thought, eyes narrow at the quiet human. “If I took the mask off and climbed inside your mouth would you move enough to spit me out?” 

Ranboo’s brows crease through strands of their hair. Tommy considers this progress. 

“Ranboo,” Tommy starts, something of a distant phrase stuck in his throat. His voice runs dry and his pride pulls at him to Shut The Fuck Up, but his heart doesn't care.“I'm sorry,” he says, a weight lifted from him even though he knows he shouldn't be the one being relieved, “I knew you were awake, or whatever you were doing, and I left during a storm and even then I hadn't came back and I guess it was shitty on my end. Sorry.”

There's a pause, and a longer pause, and …. it doesn't take long for Tommy to realize the pause was simply Ranboo ignoring the borrower. 

He doesn't know why, although that silence hit him graver than any other. Like months of tangling has been undone by a simple stroke. An apology from him has been left to disperse into only a fine memory of Tommy’s that leaves him remembering how kind he had been and how passive Ranboo had been. (Even so, he still has the emotions to amplify that he was more than hurt at the absence of a response.)

“Fine. Dick.” It's back to wit. “I'm going to jump off the couch since you don't want to fucking talk to me,” Tommy murmurs, turning on his heel and making less than a grand exit than he would've liked. (Not as if Ranboo's attention was on him.)

He slides off of the pillow, then close to the cliff that was the edge of the couch. Staring down at it, he considers the fall. Couldn't result in death, therefore leading him further and further until he decides to quip out a curious: “Oh, goodbye ole’ Ranboo, he-who-won't-talk-to-me.”

At his last syllable he steps from the couch, praying to Prime as the ground comes closer that he comes out of this with no less than an injury. Before he could hit the ground, just as he had presumed, he’s caught as lengthy cold fingers trap him and he’s stopped from the fall. Ranboo’s grip on him tightens ever-so-gently and he can make out his return to the couch. 

Ranboo hums, the smallest of noises he’s heard all evening. 

Instead of being let out, Tommy body pulses with warmth all around him as he’s engulfed in a darkness, a beating heart just moments away from him. He groans at their grip, yet makes no move away from the crease in his friend's neck, which radiates warmth and vibrates softly, almost silent had he not been pressed against their throat. 

“Thank you, for not leaving me,” Ranboo whispers. It echoes from where he sat against their throat. 

Through his urge of wit and of sarcasm, Tommy only has the mind to respond, loud and clear and in full honesty, with: “I wouldn't do that.”

—–—

[crissiebaby]

The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 16

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, crossdressing, inappropriate language, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“You shoulda seen his face during the transformation scene. He was practically drooling over Cinderella's gown. If only we had some heels, we could’ve given him the full “glass slipper” treatment. You might wanna jot that one down for future reference,” said Ellie, thumping two fingers on Latasha’s desk. Giving the overworked caretaker no chance to respond, she continued, barely missing a beat, “After the Fairy Godmother finished with the dress, the mice, and the carriage, it was time for the ballroom scene; my personal favorite scene, I might add…”

A dense, unfocused glaze had long overtaken Latasha’s pupils as she listened to Ellie ramble on while constantly getting distracted by side tangents and refusing to skip even the most minor details. This was supposed to merely be a chance for her to cross-reference what Connor and Riri had already told her, and yet here she was, trapped on the other side of Ellie’s one-way conversation about the plot beats of a movie she’d seen at least three dozen times.

*BZZZ! BZZZ!*

Latasha’s need for cognitive stimulation was suddenly sparked as her cell phone vibrated briefly on her desk. “Oh! Uh, Ellie, sorry to cut you off but your Mommy’s almost here. You should go wait for her on the couch,” she said, neglecting to mention the 15-minute buffer that Carol had given her.

Thinking nothing of Latasha’s dismissal, Ellie halted herself mid-sentence and jubilantly hopped to her feet. “Can I pick out a toy to pway wif toos?” she asked, switching tracks to Little playtime mode in the blink of an eye.

“Of course, just make sure you play near Riri where I can…” said Latasha, trailing off as she spotted an abandoned stuffed animal and a sudsy bar of soap in the center of the living room sans Riri. She promptly shifted her withering gaze onto Stacy, who hadn’t moved an inch since taking her seat on the couch. Latasha’s already thinning patience was on the verge of total collapse, “Where’s Riri?”

Shrugging her shoulders with a snide expression, Stacy had no intention of making Latasha’s job any easier. “Dunno. Not like it’s MY job to keep track of her,” she said, dangling her caregiver’s power position over her head.

Images of Bart Simpson being strangled by Homer zoomed throughout Lastasha’s weary mind; a fate she wished she could impose on Stacy presently. Biting her tongue once again for the sake of her business, she widened her intimidating eyes and gave Stacy the coldest stare she could muster.

No matter how hard Stacy tried to emulate the role of a Big, there wasn’t much she could do in the face of an actual Big’s punishing fury. Her smirk faltered under the pressure of Latasha’s death glare, compelling her to relent, “Relax, she went up to comfort Skye.”

Sighing roughly, Latasha allowed herself to cool off. Of all the reasons Stacy could’ve given, it was hard to stay mad at Riri for such a caring act. If anything, her anger inverted as she grappled with the frustration of not handling Skye on her own. She could practically hear Elma chirping at her for it. “Alright, well…regardless, it’s your turn, Stacy. Ellie, I better not see you running off too,” she said, attempting to wrestle back control as she gestured for Stacy to join her.

“Buh chus said I cood pick a toy out!” pleaded Ellie, frantically grabbing Latasha’s forearm with both hands.

“AFTER THAT!” shouted Latasha, losing her temper in the heat of the moment, “I-I mean, yes, you can. Just…hurry.” She abruptly patted Ellie on the butt, sending the anxious Little off in the direction of the nursery.

Snickering at Latasha’s outburst, Stacy knew the more frazzled Latasha was, the better her advantage was heading into their dialogue. This was almost too easy. “Wow, Latasha, A+ caregivership there,” she said, applying a heavy dose of snark to her mockery.

“Yeah, well, it’s more than a costume for some of us. Now, get your butt in here,” replied Latasha, taking Stacy’s shade and throwing it right back in her face. There was a reason she saved Stacy for last. The events of this weekend had clearly emboldened the ultra-bratty Little to an outrageous degree, and now that her reign of terror was cut short, she was desperately trying to claw back as much dominance as possible. Closing the doors behind her, it was high time she reminded Stacy whose Palace this really was.

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*SHUNK!*

The hollow pipes of the Padded Palace shook as Connor’s steamy shower came to an end. Normally, he was fairly efficient, needing at most 10 minutes to wash up and shave his face. However, the lushness of the hot water combined with how filthy he’d been in the last day-and-a-half kept the water running for almost half an hour. He quickly snatched a towel off the hook, pulling it into the shower while holding the curtain closed to prevent the warm air from escaping.

Draping the towel over his head, Connor furiously ruffled his wet hair around until the majority of the moisture had been forced out. Far from an elegant approach but there was nothing he hated more than the feeling of damp hair sticking to the back of his neck. The same fluffy, pink towel was then used to wrap up his pelvis and lower torso. It was far softer than his usual towel, which was currently in the other bathroom. Not that he minded one bit. In the back of his mind, he teased himself for returning to pink so quickly, although it wasn’t like the powder blue he had been wearing was all that masculine to begin with. He chuckled, contemplating what Connor from two months ago would’ve thought of him now; an idle thought that soon found his neutral smile fading away.

*KNOCK! KNOCK!*

Suddenly, a pair of light thumps at the bathroom door drew Connor’s attention. “Occupied,” he said, nowhere close to ready to leave the steam cocoon of the shower. Sadly, this did nothing to deter whoever was waiting at the door as another series of knocks soon followed. Rolling his eyes, he parted the shower curtain just enough to slip through before immediately sealing it back up. Hopefully, he’d be able to return after this interruption was dealt with.

To Connor’s surprise, he opened the door to find an empty hallway. Poking his head out, he glanced from side to side. As far as he could tell, he was alone. “Hello?” he said, listening for a response. A floor beneath him, several footsteps could be heard. Seconds later, he spotted Ellie peeking up the staircase.

“Chus need somfin?” asked Ellie far too earnestly to be pulling some grand prank. 

“Uh…no. Thanks, Ellie,” said Connor, awkwardly dismissing Ellie before shrinking back into the bathroom and nervously pressing the lock on the doorknob. Had this been a one-off, he would’ve been able to let it go. Unfortunately, this was now the second time he’d opened the door to a noisy hallway only to find it devoid of life. The logical side of his brain knew it was likely one of the girls but that didn’t stop him from feeling slightly superstitious. On top of everything, the last thing he needed was for this place to somehow be haunted.

Shaking his head at the silly assertion of something supernatural at play, Connor returned to his shower to finish toweling off. The next five minutes were spent patting himself down until he felt dry enough to embrace the chilly air of the house at large. A puff of mist escaped as he dashed from the bathroom to his bedroom.

Letting the towel around his body fall to his feet, Connor approached the dresser with a dejected sense of apathy. He’d had his fun but it was finally time to return to the dull boy clothes he was unceremoniously ripped away from the night before. Sure, there was an enormous part of him that wanted to dive back into Latasha’s storage closet for another nightie but after such an extreme 24 hours, it was probably for the best that he took it easy.

*SQUEAK!*

The oil-deficient hinges of the dresser drawer echoed in Connor’s ears as he pried the snug shelf open. “Huh?” he muttered, encountering an empty cubby where his boxers and gym shorts had been previously. His heart rate ticked up by several beats per minute as he proceeded to check the rest of the dresser, only to find that each drawer was as barren as the first, “Okay, what the heck is…”

Connor's throat tightened, leaving him unable to finish his sentence as he spotted the pre-selected outfit that had been laid out on the bed for him. Unfolded in the center of the mattress was a light yellow party dress with bright pink ribbons all over, which had been carefully paired with matching bloomers and two full-sized plastic nappies. The double diapers caused him to look toward where his package of pull-ups had been stashed, finding that too had been stolen during his shower. Whoever had laid this out for him had made certain he had no alternatives.

In an instant, every ounce of blood Connor possessed drained from his head. At least he could officially confirm that the Padded Palace wasn’t haunted. After all, he was already pale as a ghost.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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