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wynnyfryd · 11 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #my writing #my fic

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tang3r1n · 9 months

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❝𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓!❞

Shig is stuck at the single worst party of his life— until he spots that cutie from his biochem class.

warnings; dub/noncon, AFAB/FEM READER anal ref for like a second, unprotected sex, drunk/drugged reader, yandere-coded shig,, slut-shaming, incel-ish shig, dabi got too drunk and kinda screwed reader over, drugging(?), college au, i’m gonna redo this eventually, gross descriptions

a/n; this is my (late) secret santa gift and New Years present for the illustrious @mamayan !! i hope i did your dirty man justice, this was a part of @/ectologia’s amazing Secret Santa 2023 event they hosted!! both of these authors are big inspirations to me and i’m so glad i was able to be a part of this!

This New Years party was horrendously lame. shitty music, shitty lighting, shitty drinks; the whole thing was just an excuse for idiotic college frat douches to get wasted and fuck pretty little cheerleaders for the umptenth time.

Shigaraki watched with tepid interest as Dabi was cheered on by idiotic college students chugging his twentieth beer, scoffing as the drunk man raised his arms in triumph and let out a slurred war cry, already stumbling around. He was already sick of this place, the smell of pot and vomit burning his nostrils, just as he thought to dump his cheap booze away and kick rocks Dabi sauntered over to him, practically dragging another person with him.

Tomura felt his back immediately straighten, bloodshot red eyes widening as he saw your giggly attitude and cute little outfit. You were his shamefully massive crush from his chemistry class, the teacher’s student grader who left cute smiley faces and sweet memos on all his reports, always smiling and helpful and so so so kind to everyone. Shigaraki often got carried away staring at you during labs, watching as you bent over, how your lab coat was seemingly tightened just enough to where he can see your luscious curves, how your pretty hair falls so perfectly messy from your chaotic bun, ‘wonder how she’d look if i spread her out on this table—examine her..’

Dabi poked his chest harshly, a drunken grin plastered on his face as he held up in a mock chokehold, “lis’n h-hic!-here.. yer gonna take m’new girl n make sh-braap!-sure she ge’shome safe, kay?” Tomura rolled his eyes at his friend’s drunken speech, letting Dabi clap a hand on his shoulder to steady himself as he watched you giggle and pat Dabi’s back comfortingly. Your own cheeks were darkened and he could see the sway in your stance. Tomura couldn’t help but feel a twinge of emotion at Dabi’s declaration of you being ‘his new girl’ as he finally scoffed and pulled away, his frustration coming off as annoyance.

“Why am I in charge of your ‘new girl’?” he hissed, eyes narrowed. Your smile dropped and his gut wrenched at the sight knowing it was his fault, but he couldn’t help the little twitch of his cock at your glossy lips stuck in a cute pout. Dabi frowned and shoved the taller man harshly, stumbling a bit as he did, “dude fuck off, she’s jus’a sweet gal, wanna make sure she don’t get snatched up-hic!-I obvi’sly can’do it,” he chided, poking at Shigaraki’s chest. You interjected, pretty manicured fingers and bracket decorated wrists waving in protest, “no no no nonono, h-he don’t need to do that, ‘ll be f-fine!” you slurred and Tomura sighed, pinching his brows to hide the absolute jubilation he was experiencing. He couldn’t believe his luck— literally being hand-delivered the girl of his (wet) dreams on the shiniest of silver platters. He kept up the act, however, not wanting you to see his desperation, “nah, nah, you’re both stumbling like fucking morons, lemme go grab my shit,” he turned on his heels, calling over his shoulder, “go grab yours.” hearing your heels ‘click! click! click!’ off as you ran to get your cute purse.

“T-tomura I-ahh!” you whined and cried into your pillow, the fabric soaked and caked in your tears and makeup. You screamed as he pushed your back down into a sinfully painful arch, cock sloppily thrusting into your poor cunt. All you’d done is asked for help taking your massive heels off, bending down to untie the long, crossed straps as he snuck up from behind using his, very surprising, strength to grab and yank you up over his shoulder. You gasped and twisted, pounding on his back with your fists as he stumbled through your tiny apartment just off campus. It was only now that you regretted never agreeing to the on-campus dorms.

His whiny pants seemed to infect your very soul, bright red, bloodshot eyes staring down at you in such a creepy way, like he feared blinking would ruin his moment with you. Not like this was much of a fond moment being made, panties hanging off your ankle, shirt and bra ripped, literally ripped in half, hair frizzy and messy from his constant pulling and tugging. You felt disgusting; dizzy and nauseous, wet and gross with how loud your own pussy was squelching, the blunt ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his balls against your puffy lips send chills of disdain and pleasure up your back, making your already jumbled brain that much more scattered.

He was so touchy, his clammy hands pinching and prodding at all your fat and curves, frantic in their path all over your sweaty skin. Shigaraki’s entire form was frantic, hips stuttering and basically humping you while his cock twitched wildly, arms and thighs quivering at he pinned you down, drool, literal spit, splattering against your face and neck as he openly crooned and moaned like a bitch in heat. You felt so violated as he praised your body, talking about ‘all those lonely nights’ and how he ‘spent so many labs with a hand down m’pants-“ god he was a fucking pervert.

You whined as his thumb found your clit, rubbing fast circles and sending a wave of pleasure through you, another wave of nausea following soon after as you bit back bile, there was no fucking way you were gonna cum from this degenerate raping you. But alas, try as you might your biology was working against you, thighs and cunt clenching around him and his cock as you neared your high. His laugh was cracks and hoarse as he leant down, greasy pale-blue hair tickling your nose as he licked a stripe up your face, drinking your tears, “mmfh—! fuck, y’gonna cum? huh?” he tried, rubbing tight circles onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. You thrashed in what little movement you could, sobbing and shaking your head, “N-NO, NEVER, YOU F-FUCKING PERV—“ he cut off your screams with a harsh swat to your pussy, causing a full body shake as you tipped over the edge.

Perhaps you would’ve been embarrassed if not blinded by the white-hot pleasure of your forced orgasm, mouth agape in a silent scream as your cum cremend his cock, creating a frothy ring of white at his base. Tomura giggled out a disgusting laugh, wiping the milky mixture and smearing it into your messy face, cooing at your disheveled appearance as he sped up his sloppy thrusts.

Just as you came down from your high, his hand suddenly pinned you back down by the neck, quickly cutting off any air as he whined above you, eyebrows creased as he fucked into your hot, messy pussy, “g-gonna cum— fill up y’pretty pussy,” he whined, using his thumb to softly poke and prod at both your lips and little puckered hole and causing you to jolt, tightening up around his again and sending Toura over to his own climax.

His ‘big o’ face was obscured by his tangled, dirty hair, a pathetically noisy groan resonating as he stilled inside you, pump after pump of warm, thick cum shot right in you. You cringed, so weak from your own finish that you did nothing but whine in protest as he slowly slipped his cock out, instantly jamming two of his lengthy fingers back in to keep his cum night and snug.

“Happy New Years, I—“

“fucking pervert.”’

#.venus updated!#.v speaks #..mha #..shigaraki #mha smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura smut #mha shigaraki #mha shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #tw drunk #tw dubcon #tw noncon #x female reader #afab reader

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strawberryspence · 2 years

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PART 1

Eddie did not know what to do. It was one mistake, made in a dimly lit bar, and he honestly doesn’t even remember the guy’s name. Was it John? Jeremy? Jason? It was one guy, he never even flirts anymore but Steve looked so good that night that it hurt. Hurt so bad he needed someone to temporarily fill that gaping hole in his heart. Because how can Steve Harrington ever want him in any way?

His mother, Cecilia Munson, used to call him sweetheart at the softest times of the day, sunlight dancing through their rooms, just for the two of them. He remembers being nine, young, sharp edged from his father, wondering why anyone would look at him and call him sweetheart, not when he hot wires cars and pick locks. His mother smiles sweetly at him, explaining, “You, Eddie Munson, have the kindest and biggest heart. I call you sweetheart because I love you.”

Of course, Eddie’s in love with Steve. Of course, he calls Steve sweetheart because he loves him. How can anyone not fall in love with him? He calls Steve sweetheart because its true. Steve is a sweetheart. Steve’s sweet with the biggest kindest heart he’s ever seen on anyone. Sure, he wasn’t the best in high school, but he’s proven that he’s better now time and time again.

He gets a visit from Dustin two days after the bar incident, pounding at his door like a hurricane. When he finally opens the door, Dustin’s red faced with anger, “You’re fucking lucky I love you or I would’ve bought Erica Sinclair with me.”

Before he can even ask what’s happening, Dustin’s listing the ways Erica can hide a body, never to be found again. Eddie sighs. The group knows now, of course, they would. News spreads like wild fire with the kids. It’s because of those damn walkies they have (he can’t begrudge them for it when it once aided in saving his ass.)

“How did you find out?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?!”

Dustin shrugs, “He’s got vendetta against you now. I don’t know dude, they’ve always had a weird friendship. Max thinks they were a throuple at some point, Lucas thinks they’ve got a thing going on just the two of them and Will won’t say anything.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie’s not one for jealousy but there’s something green cruising through his veins right now and he hates it with a burning passion. He needs Dustin to leave so he can scream into a pillow, or maybe sob in the shower.

“Why are you here?”

“I am here to make sure you fix this shit you fucked.”

Eddie looks up at him with surprise as Dustin crossed his arms, eyebrows raised, “Everyone knows Steve’s the biggest sweetheart. He may hide it with his big hair or his sarcasm, but we all know. If you do like him, which you do, you dumb ass. You have to fix this, Eddie. I haven’t seen Steve this upset before and I was there when Nancy dumped him.”

Eddie blanches at the statement, it tears straight to his heart at the fact that he made his sweetheart upset. God, he's an idiot.

The next morning Eddie goes into mission mode with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a bag of cookies he bought from the bakery on the other as he arrives at the Harrington’s mansion. He’s gonna fix this today, come hell or high water.

Robin answers the door and Eddie’s sure he’s never seen her look more feral and that’s saying a lot when they've fought a magical evil wizard together. Robin’s looking at him like she’ll gauge his eyes out if he makes a wrong move, which he deserves.

Eddie asks for Steve and before he can finish the door is shut to his face. Well, he deserves that too. So he knocks again, ringing the doorbell as annoyingly as he can.

Robin opens again, nostrils flaring, “What do you want Munson? If you’re here to make my best friend cry again, I am asking you to leave now.”

“Robin, I just want to talk to him. I want to apologize. I made a mistake and I want to fix that mistake.”

“Then what? You're gonna go calling him sweetheart again without strings attached?”

“You know that’s not what it is. You know, Robin.”

And she does know. She knows about Eddie’s feelings for her best friend and the fear of not being good enough for Steve. Robin’s afraid no one will ever be good enough for her Steve but before the bar incident, she thought Eddie’s the closest thing to good enough.

For a second, Eddie can see Robin soften, then she shakes her head, “No.” Robin says, her back straightening.

Robin’s about to close the door again when Steve comes into view. A blanket draped over his shoulders, hair messy, glasses askew. If it was any other situation Eddie might’ve swooned at how soft he looks like but he’s eyes are red rimmed from crying and Eddie hates himself even more.

“Let him in, Rob.” Robin stands solid at the doorway, not moving. Steve looks at her wearily, “Robin.” They have another one of their silent conversations, before Robin gives up, “Fine.” She leaves the door open before marching up the stairs to give them privacy.

Eddie hands him the daisies and the cookies, Steve smiling down at it before inviting him into the living room with a small smile.

“I am sorry.” They both blurt out at the same time. Eddie’s not even sure to why Steve’s apologizing. Steve then goes on a tangent about how sorry he is for making the assumption that the name sweetheart is only for him and that it meant something more. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, it was his and his only. He says it’s okay and he didn’t deserve Eddie in the first place and he wasn’t that special. Every word just crushes Eddie even more. How can Steve think he doesn’t deserve Eddie? Him of all the people?

Eddie can’t do anything but scoop him up in his arms, trying his best to give him the best hug in the world as he apologizes for his mistake. Eddie assures him that he is Eddie’s only sweetheart and Steve didn’t make anything up in his head. Eddie tells him he is in love with him, and Steve tears up but at least there's a big smile on his face.

Then and there, Eddie makes the decision to show Steve the love he deserves, to woo him off his ass. Eddie loves him, through and through, and Steve’s always gonna be his sweetheart and if in 50 years they don’t end up together, Eddie will never call anyone else sweetheart, because that’s for Steve, his nail bat yielding, bad ass, sweetheart.

They don’t kiss. Content with just being in each others arms, knowing their true feelings for each other. (Also because Eddie feels like he needs to earn it) Robin goes down when it gets too quiet, and when she sees them in the couch she smiles sweetly at the image of the two of them tangled together.

She walks up on them, “I am so glad you two made up.” Eddie’s smiling up at her when Robin’s fist hits his nose.

“ROBIN!!!” Steve’s clutching him, he’s pretty sure his nose is bleeding and when Eddie looks up, Robin’s holding her fist like it hurt her to punch, but she’s grinning the biggest grin Eddie’s ever seen on her face.

“Again, I am glad you two made up. I love you both very much. But if I you make him cry again, that’s not the only thing I am breaking.” Robin smiles before kissing their heads and heading to the kitchen to get him an ice pack.

They look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter as Steve tries to wipe his bleeding nose with his own hand.

Eddie does woo Steve. On the third date Eddie planned for them, Steve finally kisses him. They’re in his car and Eddie’s rambling about his new campaign and how the kids loved it. Steve kisses him mid-way the conversation. The kiss itself, Eddie thinks, is just as sweet as Steve. Steve holds him like he’s the best thing in this universe and like it’s a privilege to be kissing him, rather than the other way around.

Eddie does not stop wooing Steve. He picks him flowers in random fields, takes him on dates, makes him dinner, leaves tiny notes on his bathroom mirror, (he also woos him amazingly in bed), packs him lunches, makes him mixtapes, burns CDs, and, three decades later, playlists.

They’re 40, Steve found his first grey hair yesterday and Eddie’s knees hurt more often that it should. But Eddie still calls Steve sweetheart. Their kids cringe at their parents and their vintage pet name for each other, but their smiles don’t hide the fact that they adore their parents love.

Steve knows he’s special, because Eddie Munson calls him sweetheart for the rest of their lives.

Eddie knows he deserves this life, this love, because Steve Harrington loves him.

#MY BABIES #BOTH IDIOTS BUT I LOVE THEM #daeheadcanons #steddie #steddie rants #steddie headcanon #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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waynewifey · 1 year

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Well, can you write a batman x fem!reader where the reader is a super hero (like catwomans superhero version or smth) and they just keep meeting at crime scenes and always flirt and stuff and end up dating?

obsessed much? — b.w blurb

summary: request above!

pairing: bruce wayne x superhero!reader

warnings: murder; hero wears acape

word count: 360

A/N: hii tysm for this request! i haven’t been writing much lately since my ‘aftermath’ fic, so this isn’t as big as you probably wanted, it just really made me want to write it as a blurb. maybe i’ll write a full fic about it later. also, i know a lot of people hate cape-wearing heroes but i absolutely love the goofy cliche, so i had to add that in. let me know what you guys think!

he’s kneeling near the body with the putrid smell of blood flowing into his nostrils. the puzzle pieces are coming together, but there’s still a big one missing. the shadows devours him into the room. what isn’t he seeing? slowly, the sound of heels hitting the ground approach his back.

“i thought heroes didn’t do investigations.” the first reply is a scoff, then the cape rustling.

“i don’t,” she says, “but this one hits home.” bruce turns around to stare the deep round eyes, one of the few things he could see underneath her mask. her suit fits perfectly in her curves, the stretchy and non-flammable fabric accommodating her fight needs. perfect for running around town. it wasn’t bulletproof, though, because the stone-hard skin was all the protection she needed. the cape was just for fun. “i saved this dude from a train wreck last week. thought it was a malfunction, it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way anymore.”

“you think someone is targeting you.” she hums in response, a chill running down her spine. all she wanted to do was to use her gifts for the good of the city. somehow, that ended up with the total of four murders so far.

“they want to get my attention, i just don’t know why.” a pout appears in her puffy lips. he wonders what they feel like. he takes the plastic gloves off, staying with the leather ones, and lays them on the floor.

“who wouldn’t?” as he gets up, a snarky grin lightens her face up. they’ve always been this good in making the other forget the bodies in the room. literally.

“obsessed much?” one step in his direction leaves them inches apart. he still thinks it’s way too far. the height difference has her looking up, batting her eyelashes. “maybe you’re the killer, batboy.”

“it’s batman.” his voice is baritone and raspy, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks. one move and his hands would be on her. her heart beats shamelessly on her chest, like drums inside her body. his gaze is so penetrating she has to look away before answering.

“right. cute.”

#battinson #battinson x you #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #batman x you #the batman #batman #robert pattinson x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne insert #bruce wayne #dc universe

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amyispxnk · 2 months

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My Kind of Woman

Chapter 4: Route D.

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - A mistake from Tommy brings the two of you closer together once more.

A/N: yall know i couldnt let reader and joel be apart for longer than one chapter lmao

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.6k (woo she’s a big one)

Warnings: language, violence, firearms/weapons, blood, fluff, slight angst, panic attack, the tiniest smidge of some dirty thoughts

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Your day starts off simple. You wake up, brush your teeth, drink some coffee as you watch the sun rise. Then, you wash your mug and head upstairs to-

Loud, incessant banging startles you as you stop in your tracks, turning to the door.

You hear Ellie’s voice from the other side and immediately rush to open it, eyes wide as you take in her dishevelled appearance and the sight of Joel beside her.

“Hey.” She smiles sheepishly, knowing you probably don’t want to see him right now.

“I knew you wouldn’t come out if you heard Joel was here, so.. yeah. Anyway! Some shit happened and they need you to come to the clinic with us.”

You’d only been half paying attention after you realised her little trick to get you and Joel in proximity again, but your head snapped up when she mentioned the clinic.

“The clinic? Why? What’s going on?” You say hurriedly, already pulling a jacket on.

“Tommy, he-” Joel starts, and you look up at him. He’s surprised when you seem ready to listen, not cutting him off or ignoring him.

You raise your eyebrows and he clears his throat, continuing.

“He got hurt on patrol.”

You tense up, about to make a break for the clinic when he places a gentle hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You try not to shudder at the contact.

“He’s fine. It wasn’t too bad, we made it back here in time.. But his leg got kind of fucked up and he can’t go on patrol for a few weeks, at best.” He says after letting go of you, the three of you all walking towards the clinic now.

“Okay. Okay.” You mutter, exhaling shakily as you try to calm yourself down.

You and Tommy were friends even before Joel came into the equation, but after you and Joel had your little.. disagreement, Joel was constantly asking about you. First he pestered Ellie, and when she got fed up with it and told him to ‘just man up and ask her, dude’, he went to Tommy.

Tommy then started checking up on you and hanging out with you a little more, and, despite the reason he was doing it, the two of you were now pretty good friends.

Your nose wrinkles as the three of you finally get inside the clinic, the stale smell of chemicals and drying blood invading your nostrils.

A nurse by the door recognises you almost immediately, taking you to see Tommy. To be fair, he doesn’t look that bad. But he’s definitely paler than normal and he’s not got that stupid grin on his face like he always does.

You stand at the door, unsure if you should even really be here, now that you think about it. The rest of these guys - Maria, Joel, Ellie - are practically family to him, and you’re just you. Why am I here? You find yourself muttering, ready to turn and leave when Tommy greets you in a weak voice.

“Hey.” You say, putting on a brave face. The others step back, having already been with Tommy for a while when he got back. Maria still clutches his hand tight, though.

“What did you do this time?” You tease, smirking as you sit beside him.

“You’re sayin’ that like it’s my fault.” He argues, to which you just raise your brows.

“Okay, it was my fault.” He mutters, going on to explain how he was too busy ‘yappin’ about somethin’ or other’ to Joel whilst they were on what was supposed to be an easy patrol. The fact that it was an ‘easy’ patrol meant that he was a lot more carefree about it, turning the corner and running straight into a group of raiders.

He laughs about it now, but it was definitely one of the scariest moments in his life. He barely had a second to think before a shot was fired, straight into his thigh. Afterwards, his assailant kicked him in the same leg and brought him to his knees. Joel rushed in, met with the sight, and let his instincts take over.

Something about the way they just trail off after that tells you it wasn’t pretty.

“Anyhow.. Joel brought me back and they patched me up, good as new!” Tommy says, managing a little humour as he points at his very limp and bruised leg.

You just nod, giving him another (fake, but hopefully) reassuring smile.

Joel clears his throat as he steps beside you.

“Tommy was originally my patrol partner but, uh, since he’s clearly not in the state to do that, he wanted you to join me instead.” He says, trailing off uncomfortably.

You still, taking the words in.

It’s been a good month now, and the hurt of what Joel did to you has mostly blown over.

Maybe this would be a good chance for the two of you to start over? If he really was just scared to take things any further, maybe this is how you figure out why.

“Okay.” You nod, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

Tommy gives him an ‘I told you so’ look, before turning to you.

“Next patrol is on Thursday afternoon, so just take it easy ‘til then. The route isn’t as easy as the one we just did.” He says, getting a small chuckle out of you since clearly the route did not turn out to be as easy as he thought.

“Okay, Tommy, thank you. Get better soon.” You say, before leaving him with his family and returning back home.

–

This time, it’s Thursday morning, and your routine goes along smoothly. You get dressed and head out to the Jackson market, needing to restock on some supplies before patrol since you haven’t been on one for a while now.

After lunch, you make your way to the armoury and pick up your weapons - a revolver, a rifle, and a knife you put in your holster.

You make your way to the stables, where you find Joel with his horse. You don’t know how to greet him so you just go over to your own mare, May, brushing her hair and feeding her an apple.

“Hey.” He finally chokes out from the other side of the room.

“Hey.” You say, a little softer. It’s the first time in ages that the two of you have been alone together, and the first time you’ve actually been ready to talk to him normally again.

“You ready to get goin’?” You ask after another beat of silence, to which he nods. The two of you set off down the river path on Route D, where a horde of runners was supposedly closing in near one of the checkpoints.

It started off as almost complete silence, save for the sound of your horses’ hooves and the occasional birdsong drifting through the air, but then you decided to bite the bullet and try to start a conversation with him.

“So! How’ve you been?” You say at last. You know it’s probably the most basic conversation starter ever used in the history of forever, but you do genuinely want to know what he’s been up to recently.

“Umm… fine. Not got much goin’ on, you know how it is.” He mutters, still unable to fully meet your gaze.

You nod, pursing your lips and glancing around as you search for something else to say, feeling the awkwardness clawing its way back to the surface with every passing second.

Joel surprisingly solves the problem for you.

“Actually- it’s probably really boring, but, uh, I finished up a pretty big woodworking project last week. ‘s for Ellie’s birthday.”

“What was it?” You ask, intrigued by this new fact you’ve learnt about him. He does so much with his hands.. guitar, building, shooting, and now woodworking. For a guy with such big fingers he sure does a lot of intricate work with them. What else could he do with them? You know you’ve been having that thought a lot recently, despite not talking to him for ages. Maybe that’s why you’d been thinking about him so much, especially in your bed at night-

“Turtle duck.” He says, breaking you from your reverie, and you giggle softly.

“A turtle duck? Like, from that cartoon?”

He tries to prevent his heart from bursting at the sight of your smile and the sound of your laugh, knowing he too caused it, but it doesn’t work.

“Yeah, yeah. She found one of the comic books and, even though she’s still hooked on them Starlight ones, she thinks they’re pretty cool. Thought she might like it.” He says, fondness in his tone as he speaks of her, and it makes your heart want to burst too. He’s such a good father to her. If he is her father. You’re still not completely sure. You want to find out but you don’t know a way to say it, so you push it to the back of your mind for now.

“When is her birthday? I feel horrible for not knowing, but..” you ask.

“No, don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s in a few weeks, July 23. Told me she never knew her birthday so I let her pick one, and of course she chose that comic lady’s one.” He grumbles playfully, making you laugh once more.

“Well, I gotta get a gift for her then. What do you think she’d like? I know she’s into comics, but you already claimed that, and there’s also the guitar.. But that’s all I got.” You hum, brows furrowing as you try to think of something.

“Well, we could always find some stuff for her guitar. There’s another patrol route I’d go on with Tommy, and we passed this old music store ‘bout a month ago. I reckon we could go and clear it, pick up some stuff.” He says, and you beam at him.

“That sounds perfect! Thank you, Joel. You’re sure she’d like it?”

“I know she would. From people she cares about, she appreciates even the thought. She’ll love it, sweetheart.” He smiles, not even realising the pet name he’d let slip.

You feel the heat in your cheeks, and bite back a stupid grin of your own when you realise that maybe things are going to be back to normal again.

–

After about another hour of scattered chatter and comfortable silence, you near the checkpoint. Sure enough, you spot mauled carcasses and shattered glass windows along the way, together with some other classic signs of infected inhabitants. If that wasn’t enough, you hear the telltale gurgling cries of the creatures, and fall back slightly to devise a plan and stow the horses somewhere safe.

“We gotta be smart about this. Smart and fast, and quiet.” Joel begins, leaving no time to mess around. “We don’t know how many are in there, and we don’t know if there are clickers ‘n’ whatnot with ‘em, so we gotta take out as many runners as possible without making a sound. Then we work on any clickers. Got it?” He asks, finally looking back up at you.

“Yeah. Jus’ needa make some more shivs and then we can get going.” You reply, taking your backpack off to get the supplies you need and starting to make a few, hoping you won’t need them but knowing you probably will. It’s not common to get a horde of runners without a handful of clickers thrown in there.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You say as you stand back up, zipping your jacket up and making sure the collar covers your neck. It’s a precaution you take which has really saved you from getting bitten there before. Such a simple thing, you wonder why it’s not a common practice by now.

He nods, and you exit the garage, securing any doors before heading over to the overrun buildings. There are two on the left and three on the right, with a few stragglers further down the road. Joel takes the stragglers on the left, and you take the ones on the right. He always seemed to favour his left, for some reason, even though he was right handed, and it always felt like he didn’t hear you properly when you were on his right. Was he really that old that he was going deaf? You briefly pondered as you met back in the middle to discuss what comes next, wiping the blackened blood off of your blade.

“I reckon we go a building at a time, clear a floor each. That way we can get to eachother quick, if need be, and we don’t get overwhelmed if there turn out to be more than we thought.” He decides, and you agree with him, before the two of you head off to the left buildings of the street. It’s mostly runners, but there were 3 clickers which you had some close calls with. The two of you managed to clear that side, looting the buildings afterwards and making your way to the right.

The first building also goes fine, but you think you notice spores between the first and second ones, holding your hand up and stopping Joel. You make your way back to him, whispering about what you’ve seen, and the two of you pull your gas masks on.

A shaky exhale from you pierces the air as you enter the second building, guns raised, Joel turning left and making his way down the hall, as you take the right.

A runner stands at the end of the hallway, limping around, and you know you need to be fast about this. If it turns around, it’ll scream at the sight of you, and you’ll be dead.

Your swiftness works out as you stab the infected in the throat, but your eyes widen when you realise there’s a clicker directly facing you, about 10 feet away from you.

You find yourself forgetting how to breathe and holding your breath impulsively, but maybe that’s a good thing, since you’d surely be hyperventilating by now if you could.

The corpse starts to grow heavy in your hands, and you muster up all of your strength to half-carry, half-drag, the thing behind the corner of the wall. Of course, the slight shuffling of your footsteps piques the clicker’s curiosity, and you hear the low croaks coming from its mouth as it ambles over towards you, giving you about 5 seconds to come up with a plan.

Your knife. If you can get a good grip on it, then your knife will be able to finish it off for you. But how would you get a grip on it when it’s directly facing you?

No time to question that now, since the clicker is literally right in front of you.

It tenses up, opening its mouth as it gets ready to screech, and you know you have to kill it now.

You rush forward as quickly and quietly as you can, trying not to cry from the sheer fear you're experiencing as its hands reach for you, sidestepping and getting behind it, stabbing it in the neck once, twice, before holding the knife there until it bleeds to death in your hands.

You take a moment to calm your breathing before moving on to the other rooms on your side. Another clicker, which you’re much more prepared for, and 6 runners, all taken down stealthily.

You’re carefully making your way over to Joel’s side when you hear it. A bang, a crash, and the loud, terrifying roar of a bloater.

Holy fuck, you think, this is the day I die. Because you’ve never taken on a bloater before, not many people have, and you don’t know if Joel has either. But you know you have to help him either way. It seems to be in his area, and you just start running, gun out, nothing to lose.

You hear it down a hallway, and dart into a room on the side, hoping it’ll run past you and you can get a shot on it from behind. You, again, try to calm your breathing as the heavy thuds of its footsteps get closer and closer, your body rigid as you clutch your gun tight.

It pauses, and your life flashes before your eyes when you think it starts turning towards you, but it just continues down the hallway.

Then you make what could possibly be the biggest mistake of your life.

You cock your gun.

And the thing roars again, before it’s charging towards you. You scream, you can’t help it, and start running.

You have to get out, find some sort of space so you can actually take a fucking shot at it without dying, but you don’t know how. It’ll charge at you in the time it takes to actually fire a shot, and you’re trying not to cry as you hear it behind you. You turn into a room, dart around, before slowing down and trying to be quiet. It’s a few rooms over, but you can still hear it, and as you try to focus on pinpointing its location, a hand covers your mouth from behind.

You start flailing, about to jam your gun into your attacker’s stomach, when Joel’s low voice whispers in your ear.

“It’s just me. Calm down.” He soothes, slowly releasing you.

You could cry at the sight of him, are surprised you haven’t already, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You ever taken down one of these before?” He asks quietly, nodding towards the direction of the bloater, and you shake your head.

“Okay, well I have, and here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll come up from behind and fire at it a few times, try hit its legs so it can’t run at us. Then you’re gonna throw one of these at it from the other side, and start firin’ too.” He says, handing you a nail bomb. You were surprised he just had one of these, but you don’t question it right now, taking it from him with shaky hands.

“You gotta be careful with it, okay? Don’t be accidentally settin’ it off or somethin’.” He tells you, and you just nod, eyes still wide. He meets your gaze and softens a little.

“I know you’re scared, darlin’, but just trust me on this.”

“Okay.” You whisper, finally finding your voice.

“Okay.” He repeats, nodding and standing up.

You stand up too and you find the bloater again with him, watching as he approaches it from behind, grabbing the nail bomb and bracing yourself. You have to do this exactly how he said or it won’t work out.

He fires, the bloater screams, and you throw the bomb, wincing as it shakes the entire building with its blast.

You go onto autopilot as you pull out your rifle, firing round after round, trying to kill it before it can charge at either of you, Joel doing the same with his shotgun.

You barely realise the thing is dead as you continue firing, going to reload when you realise it’s gone completely still.

Your body is still rigid and tense when Joel approaches you, lowering your gun and directing your gaze back to him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You whisper, voice weak.

“Let’s go, then.” He mumbles, knowing you’re definitely not okay right now.

You loot this building before clearing the last one, it being pretty empty save for the 4 runners you take down, and head back to the horses. You’re still moving on autopilot as you untie your mare when Joel’s palm comes to your shoulder. You jolt at the contact, relaxing a little when you remember it’s just Joel, and he sighs.

“Look at me.” He says, and you turn slowly, chin trembling as you meet his soft gaze.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, slower this time, and you just shake your head as your tears start to fall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck-” you mutter, wiping your eyes and digging the heel of your palm into them to try stop any more tears, finding yourself starting to hyperventilate and get overwhelmed as all the panic in your body finally gets released.

“It’s okay. C’mere.” He says quietly, opening his arms for you, which you gladly step into.

“It’s okay.” He repeats for you, holding you tight. It grounds you, feeling him like this, warm and big and safe.

The tears eventually stop and you sniffle quietly, pulling back and wiping your face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, darlin’. It’s scary to take one of those things, even after doing it multiple times. I was real fuckin’ scared too.”

“You were scared?” You murmur, having not sensed that from him at all. Guess that’s just how he was, stoic and determined whenever there’s a threat like that.

“Yeah,” he nods, “didn’t want y- didn’t want either of us gettin’ hurt.” And there it is. He was more scared because he had you to protect, as well. He’s a natural protector, and when it comes to someone that he lov- that he cares about, it makes things ten times scarier for him. Knowing a mistake from him could mess it all up. Like before.

“Well.. thank you. For keeping us safe back there. And for.. this.” You say quietly, wiping your face once more before returning to your mare.

The two of you ride back to town after filling out the log book, in another silence. It isn’t awkward, and Joel knows you probably still need some quiet time to process everything, but he does try talking to you again once you’ve made it back to the stables.

“You alright now?” He asks quietly, as the two of you return your weapons.

“I will be. Thank you, Joel.” You say with a small smile, the most you can manage right now.

“Okay. Good work today, darlin’. I’ll see ya ‘round.” He says, before leaving the room.

Things are going to be okay.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

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Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @sarahhxx06

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments. I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go! For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD. I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.” And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet. - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers #writer's wednesday

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countryclubkook · 2 years

Text

Him or Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, topper being a slight asshole, small mention of parent death and absent parent, not proof read so potential grammatical errors, slightly ooc/fanon Rafe I think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anymore I should add

Summary: when Topper finds out his best friend Rafe is secretly dating his sister behind his back, all hell breaks loose. Will they be able fix their relationship? Or will the betrayal be too much to recover from?

A/N: This is the first story i’ve written in months so i’m still a little rusty. I wanted to get something out though to get back into the groove of things. Italicized means flashback, this also is meant to take place in season 1 after Sarah and John B are together so I hope you all enjoy🤍 I left the ending of this slightly open for a potential part two if people want it/I decide to write one (Topper is 19 and reader is 18 for the sake of this story, Rafe is his canon age in the show)

“You know I’ll take care of you right?” he spoke with such certainty. How could you not believe him?

It was never supposed to be this way, you and your brother's best friend being together, but when he gave you those bedroom eyes and whispered those sweet nothings in your ear how could you resist? The both of you kept it a secret from Topper as long as you could knowing his overprotective nature when it came to you. He had found out when he saw the two of you kissing at the country club, that was a bad night for the three of you.

“My fucking sister dude? Are you kidding me? You could have any girl on this island but you go after my sister?” the vein on his neck popping out as he screamed at Rafe. Neither of you had expected him to be home, let alone for him to be waiting in the living room for you two to come back. As soon as Rafe stepped into the door he was thrown against the wall by his neck, a very angry Topper staring at him with pure hatred.

“Topper stop, let him go. Please.” you pleaded with him but it was no use, his grip stayed the same and he acted as if you weren't there. They were in their own world at that moment.

“Fucking relax man, I chose her for a reason. I love her, and you're not going to stop me from seeing her. So if you're going to hit me and tell me to stay away from her, do it so we can get this over with.” he was visibly annoyed by this as his tone confirmed it. Sure they were friends, but you meant more to Rafe than anyone else so your big brother trying to prevent your relationship was simply just an inconvenience that had no real effect at all.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, nostrils flaring and veins so visible you were getting concerned about their health. It wasn't until Topper let go of Rafe with a small scoff that you felt you could breathe again. You've never felt more shitty in your whole life than you did when Topper looked at you with such betrayal and hurt. He just shook his head and stormed out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't know he would be here” you say as you rush over to him and examine his neck that was now red (and would inevitably bruise) from the grip Topper had on it. He watched as you examined him with such worry and such a gentle touch that it reminded him yet again why he was with you, that you were worth whatever argument ensued because you showed him love nobody else would.

“Baby, I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you being okay than my neck.” grabbing the sides of your face and forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glossy with tears and your breathing slightly uneven. Your relationship with Topper was different than the one Rafe had with his sisters, it had always just been the two of you since you were growing up. Your dad had died when you were babies and your mom was a piece of shit who was never around so that left the two of you to protect and raise each other. Hurting him felt like the biggest stab in the chest and you felt terrible.

“I-” your sobs overpowered your voice before you could finish as you broke down in your lover's arms. His shushed comfort helped bring you some peace but not nearly enough to stop the feeling in your chest from growing. He had moved you over to the couch and held you in his lap until your cries eventually stopped and your breathing remained calm.

“Baby?” he asked quietly in case you had fallen asleep. When he got no response, he gently laid you on the couch and covered you with a blanket before kissing your cheek and heading out to find your brother. Rafe was probably the last person he wanted to see but he would try to talk to him for you.

That “talk” didn't go very well. You didn't know what was said, all you know is that Topper came home bloodied and bruised and didn't say a word to you. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together when you saw Rafes bruised knuckles the next day and his excuse was that he “wanted to try boxing without his gloves”. But a few weeks had passed since then and you thought it would be fine, you and Top would go back to normal and eventually he and Rafe would reconcile like nothing ever happened. If only it was that easy.

Topper had grown increasingly hostile toward you when he decided to acknowledge your existence. His responses were always short and snappy like you were the most horrible person to be speaking with. You knew the only way of fixing this was breaking up with Rafe but there was no way in hell you were doing that so you instead just tried to give him space when you could. But one day he decided that ignoring each other wasn't enough, he needed you to know your options.

‘We need to talk’ one text that always has the ability to make your heart race. You stare at it for 10 minutes trying to figure out the right response before you type back a simple ‘Okay’, his next text telling you he’d meet you at the house in ten minutes. You felt like throwing up and your anxiety was through the roof. You knew what he wanted to talk about, that's what made you nervous. It felt like hours had passed when you finally heard the front door open and heavy footsteps approach the kitchen. Your heartbeat had become very quick when he came into your peripheral vision.

“Hi” a simple word used to greet people now had a more hostile meaning behind it. You finally looked up to see him but he was already looking at you. He still had that same look in his eyes he had that day. Betrayal, disgust, anger, every emotion you had hoped you'd never see him have towards you.

“Hi” your voice much smaller as you tried to avoid his hard gaze. An awkward silence passed for a few moments before he finally spoke again. There was clearly no small talk to be made so it was now or never.

“I'm giving you two options, and I never thought I'd have to say this to you of all people but I guess you really can't trust everyone. I understand you think you love Rafe and that he loves you, but you don't know him like me. Rafe Cameron doesn't ever love someone, he uses them to his advantage until he no longer needs them around and then he leaves them in the dirt. I'm not staying around to watch that happen to you so it's him or me.” his voice was stern, there was no hesitation in his words. He meant every last thing he had just told you.

You stared at him for a moment trying to process what you just heard, did he really just give you an ultimatum? You half expected him to laugh and tell you he was just fucking with you, that he was still upset you hadn't told him but as long as you were happy so was he, but that moment never came. Instead, he continued to stare at you with a pierced gaze waiting for your response.

“Are you serious right now Top?” you chuckled in disbelief. There was no way this was happening right now.

“As serious as a heart attack” no hint of amusement in his voice. Your emotion quickly changed from guilt to anger as his words finally registered.

“You have no right to do that. None. Rafe and I do love each other, we don't think that. You don't know our relationship and this was exactly why we didn't want you finding out. I'm not a baby anymore Topper. I'm a big girl and I can make my own decisions about things, including who I date. If that backfires that's on me and I learn from it. You don't get to decide that for me.” your face had turned red and you felt hot. How dare he make you choose between them.

“Y/N you don't understand okay? I know how he works, I've seen it happen. He's only going to hurt you when-” he tried to argue but you cut him off.

“No. You don't understand. He treats me better than anyone else ever has, he makes me feel loved. You don't know anything about love, that's why your girlfriend cheated on you with a fucking pogue.” his face fell at the comment. You knew it was harsh and uncalled for but you were too upset to care.

“Fuck you Y/N. I'm giving you one last chance to make the right choice” you knew he meant that.

“Fine. You want me to choose so badly? I choose him, I'll always choose him.” your breathing was heavy as you yelled at him. There was no taking it back now so you could only hope it didn't end badly for you.

“Okay” he scoffed “just don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. You mean nothing to me anymore” he spoke with such disgust that it took everything in you not to cry.

“I won't. He's never going to do that to me” you spoke to him with the same voice he had spoken to you. The two of you staring at each other with anger and a look of disbelief that this had happened to you. Topper gave one last shake of his head before going up the stairs to what you thought was his room. It wasn't until you heard a loud thud a few minutes later that you realized he was in yours.

One by one, bags and boxes of your things came flying down the stairs. Topper was standing at the top with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

“You want to be with him so bad you can go stay with him. I don't want a lying whore living with me.” his words hurt you more than would ever admit but you swallowed your tears and began packing your car with your things, getting in and starting the car to drive to Rafes once the last thing was thrown in.

He hadn't expected to see your text but all he could do was worry when you’d told him you were on your way to him. The only thing comforting him was pacing around the room and thinking of all the ways he could try and help you. He heard your call pull up and almost broke the door getting to you and his heart shattered when he saw you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes red and puffy, you looked destroyed.

As soon as you were in his arms you broke down, the both of you falling to the ground as your sobs echoed in the warm air. The familiar smell of Rafe's cologne made you feel safe, a feeling you hadn't fully felt since Rafe and Topper's fight. It felt like you were finally home and could relax, the war was over and you could just live again.

“Shh baby it's okay, you're safe now. I've got you” he said as he rested his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. There wasn't much that could be said to help you feel better about the situation but knowing you weren't alone did help to make you feel good. Topper was just jealous he didn't have this type of love with Sarah.

You'd finally calmed down enough to unload your things into Rafe's room. Ward adored you so letting you stay with them was absolutely no issue which you were so thankful for.

Hours had passed and your tears had long stopped. You had taken a nice long shower and now you were in bed with Rafe, it felt natural to you. He gave you a small nudge to get your attention and your eyes met his. He had a slight smirk on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face” your eyes widening slightly worried you had forgotten to wipe some makeup off your face.

“No no it's not that, it's just… I could get used to this you know? It feels right” his voice was much softer now.

“It does, doesn't it? Maybe this whole situation isn't so bad after all” it was very bad, but maybe you could convince yourself otherwise if you said it enough.

Rafe could see you thinking about the situation again despite what you'd just said so he grabbed your face to hold it in place. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“You know I'll take care of you right?” and you had no doubt he would, fuck Topper. You just needed Rafe. He would never betray you like Topper, he would never hurt you the way your brother did. He loved you.

“I know” you smiled sweetly at him before giving him a soft kiss, both of you enjoying the moment of peace before pulling away to turn the lights off. Sleep slowly engulfing you as you relaxed into the others touch. This is how it was meant to be.

If only you knew exactly what getting involved with Rafe Cameron would turn into.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron x thornton!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #obx angst #obx imagine

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ghostbustting · 3 months

Note

vampire!Nikki sixx x reader smut where Nikki is just fucking the daylights out of her and won't stop commenting on her heart rate (superhearing) like the smug man he is.

Sorry if you don't write stuff like this feel free to reject, I just thought this sounded hot.

Love you 🩵

don't usually write stuffs like this, but hope I did well !! :")

╰┈➤“𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫„ ๋࣭⭑

Vampire!Nikki Sixx x Reader

Contains Smut and Blood.

The moment I stepped out into the city late at night like this, I knew it might mean trouble. Los Angeles was wild. Too wild, perhaps. You’d see people driving in cars and blasting music loudly, people partying here and there, even some fights. But here I am, only trying to make my way back home from work.

My steps weren’t calm, yet weren’t so fast either. I would’ve chosen a taxi. But I wasn’t taking the chance of getting into a taxi with a creep again. However, was walking any better?

Surely not.

The road was crowded, sure. But not every one of them would seem to give a fuck if a woman was approached by creeps, no matter how obvious a scene is going on, some of them would most likely just avoid the scene in order to ‘protect’ themselves.

Hence, I take shortcuts along my way home. Not saying it’s any safer, but it would be useful if any sketchy dudes with big hairs, leather jackets, and tattoos were going your way.

I walk into the alleyway, the lights of L.A that were always so bright, turned dim and flickering in this area. Puddles of god knows what liquid were everywhere, I had to do my best to avoid them. Which is why, black shoe soles were better in this case, hiding what would be a fucking dirty sole.

However, my steps stops when I see a figure ahead of me. His body tall, dyed black hair big and long enough to hide the back of his neck, he was dressed in black, big boots and gloves covering what would be his slender fingers.

Another thing about the Los Angeles, is that not every corner of The City of Angels was always filled with angels.

Some of the Angelenos tends to stay in the dark late at night, blending perfectly well into the shadows like a camouflage and lurking slowly behind you, catching you off guard the moment you notice them and their demeanor.

Their cold skin seems to look pale by nighttime, teeth pointy if you got the chance to see them talk, often longing for blood, their eyes always as sharp as a razor, cutting through the person’s head each time they were gazed at.

Not a single heart beat would manage to escape their ears that can hear thousands and thousands of noises all at once. But if you run, you stand no chance as they move deadly fast.

I gulped and slowly take a step back, trying not to make any triggering sound. Yet the puddle my shoe just happen to step on betrays me, making a small noise yet loud enough for him to hear.

His body turned around, his greyish green eyes meeting mine in an instant, the way he holds his eye contacts never failed to make my heart thumps loudly, which I hated, knowing he can hear them with such ease. His presence always had it’s way to seduce me, it takes a lot in me to hold back the secret desire in me to feel him.

I’ve encountered Nikki Sixx a couple times before, sometimes when he’s playing with his band, sometimes in situations like this, often finding it easy to avoid him and the troubles he’d surely bring towards my way, even though he never went too far over flirting. But seems like today just wasn’t my luck as he immediately went to me and pinned me up against the alley’s wall.

My breath hitched as I look up at him, a small grin on his lips now, his sharp teeth just slightly peeking out. “Got you now..” He murmured, the proximity between us making me able to take a sniff of his intoxicating cologne, the scent filling my nostrils as if I just walked into a fragrance boutique.

“..I’m just trying to go home..” I say sternly in order to make my statement crystal clear to him. I try to keep my eyes on his, trying to make him think I’m not scared. Which, I am, partially that is. In a way, I don’t think he’d hurt me. The thing he does might be very unexpected, but one thing about him is that his true desires are visible right in those eyes of his like a window to his heart.

Nikki chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lean down close to my ears, his cold breath meeting right against my skin, sending shivers up my spine as I stiffen up. “Then why don’t you let me take you home?” His hands slowly make their way towards my hips.

I froze and clear my throat before trying to speak again, “I don’t—”

But before I knew it, he cut my words of protest off as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder before he start run.. really fast. I yelp and hold onto his head tightly, grasping onto his hair. “What the fuck, Sixx?!?” I screamed, punching his shoulder over and over again as if it’d stop him.

The not so humanlike speed he had in his run made my heart beat fast, afraid of falling off, even though the firm hold he have on my hips are supposed to be enough to keep from falling. “Slow down! Fuck!” I protest, holding onto him for dear life and closing my eyes.

“Oh you’ll scream that again later!” He laughed like a maniac. I blush when I realize what he meant, smacking his shoulder again in response. I can’t tell whether to be flustered or feel the need to kill him, thought the possibility of the latter seems very very impossible.

Next thing I knew, we came into a stop.

Slowly, my eyes starts to flutter open while Nikki lay me down on my bed.. I flinch and look around, shocked to find us in my bedroom in a flash of light. It felt like only 5 seconds ago we were still in that nasty empty alleyway.

“How the fuck—"

I was cut off yet again when Nikki made his way on top of me on the bed, he was hovering over my figure with that same devilish grin he wore the whole time.

My breath got stuck in the middle of my throat as he towers over my body and took the back of one of his hand to caress my cheek. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” He whisper, then he paused before chuckling to himself, his sharp fangs being shown even more clearly now. “Well woops, that one’s a lie.”

Though I tried so hard to act like he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. Yet of course, my heart beat was too easy for him to detect and use as a proof of my intimidation, along with the heavy breaths I let out, each noise his ears catches making his grin even wider and devilish.

The eyeliner around his eye made the color of his eyes even more lighter and intriguing, those green eyes of his so majestic with the moonlight that peeks from my window shining his way, illuminating and spotlighting every single features that face of his owns.

Each blink my eyes made, they open to a different vision of him, each new vision, another new breathtaking features of his takes ahold of my attention while he continued to grin down at my statue-like state.

“Let me have you..” His voice echoes in my mind, like a sweet seduction for me to open up my heart, to let my desire take over my body just like the way his own desire take over his body. “I’ll take.. very good.. care of you..”

When his face leaned down even more, my eyes slowly flutter close on it’s own, acting as a permission for him to take an act.

Next thing I know, his hands clawed on my clothes and rip them apart with his strong bare hands, meanwhile his lips immediately move to mine, his kiss already passionate and rough from the moment our lips touched, his movements driven by lust and a burning flame in him.

I always knew no matter how wild this man can be, there are always much more deeper and wilder layers to unfold within him. And that is exactly what I’m doing right now.

Something in me myself burned, as if he shared that flame with me through our locked lips. My hands tugged on his hair while small gasps leaves me when my body became fully exposed within minutes, the fabrics that once covered my body were thrown away, his cold hands roaming over my warm body, the difference between our body temperature only making things even more intense.

Suddenly, I feel his fangs sink into my bottom lip, wincing when he licked up the blood that leaks from my lip and pull back from me, smirking as he starts to undress himself.

“Nikki..” I softly whisper, squirming on the cold sheets.

His finger then meets my lips, sushing me while he slowly take off his clothes.

With each fabric removed, more of his pale skin reveals itself, seducing me to touch him. His clothes were thrown to the floor, joining my own pile of ripped up clothes. I watch his body silently, the tattoos he had on his arms, the way his chest rise and fall, the happy trail leading down to his hard cock.

Then back up to the grin on his face as he slowly spread my legs apart. He was so tempting, his hands as cold as ice while he touch me with such lust in his eyes.

With his cock in his hand, he lead it to my cunt and slipped it in with such ease, almost immediately taking control over my hips and thrusting in and out of me with a surreal speed.

I gasp and grasp onto the sheets around me, squirming at the feeling of his cock filling every spot in me, the pleasure building up inside of me and pushing out dirty noises from my lips, the noises that only made him grin even more, his fangs showing much clearly.

His thrusts were incredibly fast, too fast to the point I can’t even keep up any more with it, yet it haven’t even been 5 minutes since he’s been inside me. My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, my lips apart as I moaned out his name.

“Nikki..! Fuck..! Slow down..!”

“Feel good huh?!” He laughed a sinister laugh that fills my ears.

“So good..!” I nodded and pant for breath, desperate to have control of myself again. But this man above me was way stronger and powerful than I am, he knew way too much how to please me, or rather please himself.

His cock continued to thrust in and out of my tight hole, our skin meeting each other each time he thrusts, creating a loud slapping noise that harmonize along with my moans and his groans.

I could tell that he was losing control over himself, his head thrown back and he was letting out the loudest groan ever before he lean down and bury his face in my neck.

I thought nothing of it until I feel those sharp fangs strikes blood again, this time on my neck while he suck on the blood desperately, tasting me. I wince and held onto his back, tears building up in my hazy eyes.

Another sinister laugh leave his lips as he connects his lips to mine, making me taste my own blood on his tongue.

One of his hand that was previously on my hips trails up to my chest, his fingernails lightly caressing over the skin of my chest, making me arch my back and yearn for more of his touch.

“Your heart.. it’s beating very loud..” I can practically hear the grin in his voice as his nails gently press against my skin, making me think his nails are going to sink into my skin and steal my heart that is uncontrollably pounding very fast and loud. “I bet it’s for me, hmm? No man can give you this much pleasure, yes?”

The feeling of his cock continuously hitting that special spot in me made it hard for me to even utter out a single letter.

“Answer me!”

“YES!!”

I moaned out, my fingernails creating a big scratch mark down his back, making him groan and laugh once more before accelerating his thrusts. “What a slut.. your little heart’s practically beating out of your chest.. and it’s all for me.. your heart’s all mine..”

The tension behind his voice and choice of words only made the pleasure more unbearable, my toes curling as my legs shake, his hands still taking full control of my hips. “Yes! Yes!” I continued to pant out, not even able to breathe correctly.

Suddenly, I can feel my walls close up around his member, squeezing him in as I feel a strong knot on my stomach, my eyes wide and filled with tears that now stains my cheeks. “I need to cum.. please please let me..” I beg, half sobbing.

“Let go, baby.” He then held my legs up and place them on his shoulders, pausing before he thrusts even faster now.

Screams escapes my mouth as his faster thrusts pulls out the strongest release from me ever, my back arching off the sheets beneath me while his hips’ movement slowly falters as he fills me up with his seeds, shooting in white streaks all around my hole before pulling out.

As I try to take control of my breathing, his body plopped onto the spot beside me, pulling me close to his chest. “Told you I’d take care of you..” He panted out with that same grin never leaving his face.

I scoffed out a chuckle and rest my head on his chest, still panting. “What.. Whatever..”

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down just like mine is, though I did not hear a single heart beat the whole time I rest on his chest.

But I suppose that’s just what he is.

A cold-blooded creature with a once dead heart that’s been brought back to live.

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gcslingss · 3 months

Text

coffee? | colt seavers.

summary: colt finally gets his coffee :)

pairing: no pairing, just colt - ig colt x jody?

warnings/content: lots of coffee mentions, author is uneducated when it comes to coffee, colt likes more milk, jody loves colt and his antics sm

word count: 619

notes: thanks to @dontglimpse for asking for this cuz bro this man needs his caffeine so bad- poor fucking dude

“Wh— Colt?”

“Just a second, babe, I’ll, uh, be right back.”

Colt gave a confused Jody a smile and wave before heading towards to little cafe on the side of the road.

He and Jody had just returned from the Metalstorm screening in Hall H, super cool, and everything had been spectacular, except for when Colt’s long needed coffee spilt before it even reached his hands because some dude loved Jason Momoa too much to give a shit about his surroundings. The poor stuntman would’ve asked for a replacement, but Dan was too keen on getting them out of the place before traffic amassed.

It really seemed like ever since the Ryder Messed Up incident, he and coffee had been destined to never cross paths again.

Ah, coffee. What an abstract concept.

Which was why, as he walked into the cafe, every bit of his body he could cross, he kept crossed.

When Colt breathed in the scent of roasted beans and cream and cookies, it hit him like drugs.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled under his breath, halting and closing his eyes for a second. He took a second to regain his composure, before walking up to the barista.

“Hi, sir! What would you like?” she asked, smiling wide, but Colt was too focused on the pretty paper coffee cups stacked behind her.

“You— your coffee machine works, right?”

The barista frowned. “Yes, of course.”

Still, Colt didn’t bring his hopes up.

“I’ll, uh..”

The man was more of a Latte lover, but unsurprisingly, he craved a little more decaf today.

“Hi, um, could I get a flat white?” he asked, fingers drumming on the inner lining of his jean pockets in utmost dread. “On the go, please— kinda in a hurry.”

“Sure, yeah.”

Colt went and stood at the other end of the counter, foot tapping aggressively. Please, coffee, come to me.

His phone rang. It was Jody.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

“Hey. I’m assuming you went to get coffee.”

Colt grimaced. “Just another minute, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh my god, don’t apologize. I know how bad you need it— I just hope nobody knocks it over or something again.”

“…Me too.” Colt meant that from the bottom of his heart. He’d missed far too many times.

It took a minute and 23 seconds (yeah, he counted) for the flat white to get to the counter.

Colt grabbed it so quickly, paying the barista in less than a few seconds before rushing to his truck, both hands tenderly holding onto the cup.

“Hi,” Jody said, amused. “Got your coffee?”

“Got it, yes. Haven’t had it, though.”

Colt looked so tense, staring intensely at the cup. Nothing had gone wrong yet.

“Please drink that, Colt, I think I’m going to die out of anticipation,” Jody said, suddenly just as tense as her boyfriend. “Gosh.”

He looked at her, Adam’s Apple bobbing.

“Yeah, okay.”

He brought the cup to his lips, and the absolutely intoxicating aroma of coffee rose to his nostrils.

Oh, dear.

Colt took a big gulp, and when the taste of perfectly brewed goodness washed over his taste buds, he could’ve sworn he ascended to another plane of existence for a bit.

He leaned against the seat, eyes closing and a relishing sigh leaving his lips.

Coffee.

“Good?” Jody asked.

Colt just nodded, still in ecstasy after that hit of delicious, delicious caffeine.

“I can tell you like it,” she said, lips pulled into an extremely amused smile. “Need a second to process it?”

“God, yeah.”

Despite the giggles, Colt didn't slow down, gulping down the coffee so quickly, but still savouring the taste.

He was carrying a flask with him everyday from now onwards.

taglist: @bisexualcoltseavers @hollandstrophyhusband @zsuo @flowersomgravee @webbo0 @officer-kd6 @dontglimpse @chihuahuamations

#colt seavers #colt seavers fic #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fic #the fall guy fic #the fall guy #alecfics #my fics #jody moreno x colt seavers #colt seavers x jody moreno #jolt #coldy #colt gets his coffee #fanfic #ryan gosling fanfic #colt seavers fanfic #drabble

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Black Light 9

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note:thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You gape for a moment before you’re certain this is real. You wet your lips with your tongue as you sway nervously in the doorway. You are poorly prepared for company.

“Um, I’m not allowed to have boys in my bedroom,” you say.

August scoffs and stands. His deliberate slowness underlines his size and has your brows popping up your forehead. Oh, he is very big and strong. Of course, you knew that already, you always thought he was built like the Terminator, but it’s very obvious at that moment.

“I’m not a boy,” he growls as he takes a step forward.

You chuckles nervously and drag a foot back as your heart races. The questions bubble up all at once; how did he get in here? Why is he here? And most concerningly, what does he want?

“Sorry, uh, sir, man,” you babble, “I just…” you blink and look around, “I wasn’t expecting–”

You spin and race down the hall, gripping the towel for dear life as it flaps dangerously. You hear him barreling behind you and you let out a shrill cry.

No, no, no. Why is he doing this? You’re a friendly person, all you ever do is be nice to him, so why is lifting you up right now? Why are your feet kicking in the air above the carpet as he drags you backwards?

His thick arm traps you against him, writhing as you fling and arm out trying to grasp onto anything. You whimper as your fingers claw over the pictures of your parents’ many couples’ trips and your annual camping excursions.

“Why are you doing this? Please…” your hand hooks around the doorframe as he turns into your room, grunting as your head hits his chin, “please, I didn’t do anything.” He yanks you away from the doorway, your fingers bending back painfully. “Please don’t murder me. Please. I don’t wanna be a story on a podcast.”

He turns and flings you so you land on your bed, bouncing jarringly as you barely keep your towel from flying completely open. He stands at the end of the mattress, hands on his hips, looming over you. His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare.

“Alright, well, we can cut a deal, make it fast?” You plea, “I don’t think I can handle torture–”

He rolls his eyes and grabs the middle of his shirt. You flinch as he swoops his shirt over his head and tosses it away. It catches and dangles from your SpiderGwen figure. Good, she doesn’t need to be a witness.

He reaches for you and you shriek. No! You can’t go out like this. You saw too many movies on Jack the Ripper not to put up a fight. You kick out and he swiftly deflects your foot with his elbow. He latches onto the towel and rips it away, leaving you naked and stunned.

You look down and push yourself up, trying to cover yourself as you curl into a ball.

“Hey dude, can I at least die in some clothes?”

He huffs again, giving you that look you get, the one that says ‘stupid little girl’. You furrow your brow as he snakes his hand along the front of his shorts and tweaks a brow. He grabs the bulge there, the one you hadn’t noticed behind the swish fabric.

“Oh,” your head clicks, “ohhhhh…” a cold river flows down your body, “well, that’s flattering but I don’t know if I’m ready–”

He rescinds his hand and shakes his head, muttering under his breath. He goes to your dresser and pulls open the drawer. He sifts through the contents as you watch in confusion. You uncross your arms and put your heels on the bed as you keep an eye on him.

You shimmy towards the foot of the bed slowly, trying not to break his attention. He has two of your belts in hand, the braided white leather and the glittery pink leopard print. You get closer and lower your legs down until your soles are on the floor.

You stand and he spins. You cry out as he just as swiftly strides back to you, grabbing you by the throat. You whimper as he pushes you down to the bed. You wriggle helplessly and touch his wrist.

“I didn’t mean to run into you…” you gurgle.

He snarls, irritation needling between his brows. He runs his hand to your shoulder and flips you over. You yelp and he smacks your ass, hard. You kick your feet and whine.

“Ouch! Okay, look, I agree there's tension here but you're a bit above my age range--”

“Quiet,” he sneers as he grabs your arms and pulls them back behind you, “must you make everything difficult.”

“Uh, I think I have every right– to make–this— difficult,” you try to pull free but he overpowers you easily. He winds the belt around your wrists, tight until your hands throb, and knots it.

He stretches a knee high sock above your head then swoops it around your face, gagging you with it and tying it at the back of your skull. You garble around it, unable to close your mouth fully as it saps the moisture from your tongue. You wiggle, like a snake and he turns you onto your back.

“Now,” he stands before you and hooks his thumbs in the elastic of his shorts, “no more talking.”

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #drabble #au #the club #black light #mission impossible: fallout #series

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gunnrblze · 12 days

Text

Unaffected

Part two of my lil Kick x Hesh nonsense. Except this is 6200k+ words lol. My apologies if it gets a little repetitive, this is why I usually stick to shorter fics hehe. Part one here. MDNI, 18+

CW: blowjobs, two dudes fuck, fools in love, insecure-ish/pining Kick

Tag request for @blacktacmopsi (who’s general hc’s of Kick I’ve based some of this on, thx queen)

Kick could hardly breathe for the rest of the day. His oxygen felt depleted when it wasn't being shared with Hesh’s. When the man's breath didn't fill his space, his mouth, his nostrils, his head. As if his own was somehow lacking in substance, he wonders how he went his whole life up to this point without it.

Like a good ghost though, he persisted. Through the aching need that continued to claw its way into every nerve fiber of his body, through his own godforsaken boring paperwork, through all the hours he had to go before being alone with the younger man once more. He swore he could feel the phantom touch of Hesh’s big hands on his shoulders, heavyweights that he'd willingly let drag him down, even if for only one more fleeting moment of respite against his lips.

The day couldn’t have gone slower, he thought. Or perhaps one's brain just defies time when it's desperate for a different hour. He wondered how many glances at the clock like a jittery schoolboy it would take before the plastic started to crack with the burn in his gaze. He wondered if his heart would similarly crack now that it’d been fed something. Now that his aching, desperate need for the soldier had been tended to, if it would ever be enough to fill that little gaping hole he liked to pretend his work filled for him. He knew the answer and yet it didn't help his overthinking. It was almost unlike him, the amber eyed man much more practical than this. Yet Hesh had somehow, within the span of half an hour spent in his office, managed to level his train of thought like a city plaza. Kick could shudder with the thought of how else the man could pick him apart without even trying, what another taste of Hesh’s firm lips could do to him. Would it hurt less in the end to find out, or to avoid the inevitable like the plague? Surely this wouldn't last, whatever this was.

Kick always had a penchant for the unknown, though. He’d sink to the bottom of the mariana trench with no oxygen tank if it meant he could get even a glimpse at the bottom. So how surprised could he be when Hesh’s not so subtle “you up?” text had his boots nearly bouncing off the pavement to get to his barracks?

He did everything he could to hold onto his air of facetious nonchalance. To pretend that his pining hadn’t reached a fever pitch just from their earlier encounter alone, giving Hesh’s door two firm knocks before the following sight knocked the breath from his lungs.

A freshly showered Hesh stood in the doorway, that familiar scent of pine stronger than usual. His sweats hung lower on his waist than necessary, strung round his hips like a goddamned Calvin Klein model. Prettier than any magazine boy could ever be, though. He wondered how many seconds of him staring at the sliver of skin between said sweats and the tight compression shirt that adorned his upper body went by before the air of Hesh’s voice finally sounded.

“You alright?” the younger man's voice was lilted with amusement, arms crossing over that broad chest as his mossy green eyes similarly roamed over Kick’s body. Was he toying with Kick, or was the guy just effortlessly attractive? The thought was infuriatingly cute.

“Yeah…gonna let me in, Walker?” he tried to retort but it came across much more desperate than he wanted, maddeningly so. How could he even let himself get this way? Near begging to be let into the room of a colleague at least a decade younger than himself, with the intention of what, really? To kiss some more, maybe fulfill those cock twitchingly hot wet dreams he’d been having lately? To pretend his desire, his need stopped there? Stopped short of wanting to crawl under Hesh’s skin and take up as much room as the blood in his veins?

The man didn’t give him that much time to debate though, before stepping aside with a smile that could light up the darkness he felt on even his worst days. Kick felt an insatiable urge to get closer already. To take him by his scruff covered cheeks again and kiss his lips raw. He stepped inside and heard the door close behind him, Hesh’s presence lighting him up so much it almost felt like a fight or flight response. Not that he was nervous, no, just laughably desperate for something, anything he could sink his literal or metaphorical teeth into.

It seemed Hesh was just as needy, the spaces between their bodies already closing up as Kick took quick stock of the man's living space before turning back around to face him. Standard issue military barracks, but with the added lieutenants perk of no roommate. Little personal effects, save for a sleeping german shepherd in the corner and some clothes strung about. Charmingly Hesh, he decided, before being met with those green eyes again.

Suddenly he felt like he was floundering, like he didn't have years and years of flirting experience under his belt. A ship lost at sea, this wasn’t just a regular person he’d met here or there, some place where it didn't matter so much what happened in the end, because he’d never see that person again, no. These were real feelings, for a real man that he worked with everyday. The dim lights of some janky bar weren't there to give an interlude to his feelings, they were threatening to spill out everywhere like the blood of an enemy soldier.

The distance between them only shortened as Hesh stepped forward again, the man's cheeks already adorably heated, a rosy tint crawling up from under the trimmed beard along his jaw. God, he wasn't sure how much he could take. Words were lost on both men, Kick’s body scorching with too many emotions to name. He had Hesh alone. Alone, and all to himself. It would’ve been overwhelming if he were able to process it anymore, but his limbs had a mind of their own. Fingers reaching up to curl around the side of the man’s warm neck, wordlessly pulling him closer as they slid to the back, trying to drown himself in the masculine scent that engulfed the air between them.

Hesh’s own hands found Kick’s waist, a song and dance they'd played earlier in his office, nearly clammy palms sliding down to grip his strong hips, almost tentatively guiding the older man closer. Muscle memory took over as Kick pulled the blushing soldier down to crash his lips firmly against one another.

It was all consuming, both men's bodies acting on impulse all at once, autopilot taking over. Breaths mixing and stuttering in Kick’s lungs as he pulled Hesh impossibly closer, both hands returning to the man's face, cupping him by the jaw as if he were a precious, breakable thing, and not a solid wall of muscle lodged firmly up against his own body, a soldier primed to kill and maim and dominate. Not the kid he was made out to be, no. A man, so full of heat and energy it felt like Kick had been doused in kerosene and set ablaze. As if it were all they knew how to do, Hesh was backed up again against the door of his room, backside thudding against the wood with more force than Kick had intended, drawing a groan from both men's throats. Kick didn’t even need to apologize, it only seemed to spur on the man locked to his lips further. Hesh’s tongue swiped over the older man’s lips only once, and it was all he needed. Almost stupidly, Kick opened his mouth instantly, gasping in the minty taste he was met with before tongues started clashing. It was a heady dance, both men recklessly attempting to consume one another, as if salvation was a finite resource and they had both suddenly found themselves damned to hell for all eternity.

Kick’s skin was prickling with anticipation and that ardent thirst, the desire to be closer, to devour all of the man pinned between his body and the door, to merge with him until they were no longer considered separate entities. It wasn't enough, it was too much, it would suffice, he didn’t know, his brain was swimming and his heart thudding against his ribcage like a beast trying to uncage itself. There was no time to decide before Hesh was thumbing the hem of his shirt, a silent plea that Kick understood too well.

“Take it off” Kick’s voice was deeper, raspier. It wasn't quite a demand, nor a suggestion. A plea perhaps, one that had Hesh scrambling to appease the both of them. Their lips only disconnected long enough for the green eyed man to all but rip the fabric off Kick’s body, tossing it on his floor as his hands found purchase on the broad expanse of chest in front of him. Lips pressed hot against one another again, Kick’s cock responded nearly instantly to the sweaty hands smoothing over his stomach and pecs, his length hardening up as a shiver ran down his spine at the feeling, one infinitely better than any of his dreams. His hips pressed more firmly against Hesh’s, earning a groan from the younger man. Kick felt Hesh’s sweats outlined with the print of his own growing cock, exciting him almost pathetically.

In the back of his mind, he was loosely aware of the consequences this could all have, the ones that swam through his mind earlier while he was desperately awaiting this moment. Hesh was younger, a subordinate truthfully, regardless of any rank. He was fresh, at least to the Ghosts. He felt guilty in the back of his mind, where the rest of his feelings for the man didn't take over. Was he fucking something up here? This was beyond fraternization, but he was more so terrified of what nearly felt like his corruption of Hesh, involving him with a man like himself, despite the both of them coming on to one another equally. He should give the kid a chance, no? To explore something, someone, else. An option that wouldn’t end in the dumpster fire that this one easily could.

With every slow grind of the man’s hips against his own however, any other real thoughts melted out of Kick’s ears, reducing him to something almost absurdly impatient in the blink of an eye. His dexterous fingers found the band of Hesh’s sweatpants, sliding underneath the fabric just enough to feel the heated skin of the man’s waistline. And oh, if he didn’t want to bottle up and preserve the near whimper that slipped from the soldier's throat as the roughened pads of his fingers trailed around to the back, sliding down to grope at his rear, squeezing the plump muscle firmly.

“Kick…more” Hesh’s voice was breathless and so much deeper than normal it made Kick’s cock twitch in his pants, precum already slickling his tip and staining his boxers as he ground himself into the man further, using the tightening grip on his backside as leverage.

Both men panted and groaned as they ground their hardening cocks together, lips connecting in a slower, more sensual rhythm that left Kick just as breathless. Deep and all consuming, their bodies grew hotter, the change of pace allowing Kick to become more fast and loose with his dizzying thoughts.

“Jesus, Hesh…been waiting all day for you, all goddamned day” Kick’s breathing was labored as he muttered lowly against the other man's mouth, grip so tight on his ass it made Hesh unable to think clearly, his fingers digging into the back of Kick’s neck and one of his muscled shoulders. Kick felt like he’d implode at any moment, his wildest little dreams about the soldier he’d sought the attention of for months finally coming to fruition, every kiss Hesh pressed to his lips another douse of gas on the fire, pinning the man helplessly between his body and the hard door.

“Don’t wait anymore, take me” the other man would pant in response, his low honeyed voice laced with a flaring hunger that had Kick pulling away only enough to rip that tight shirt off him. Those amber eyes raked over every bit of upper body Hesh had on display. Course, dark hair littered all over his toned chest and down his stomach in whorls, lining a delicious trail that disappeared down into his sweats. A gift from whoever was up above, Kick decided as his hands lingered near the band of those sweats once more, their eyes connecting long enough to see one another's matching desires coming to a head.

Hesh’s cheeks and neck were flushed, those pouty little lips parted, making Kick dizzy with every exhale that came out of them, washing over him in waves. “Yeah? Sure this is what you want?” Kick had to ask, wouldn’t feel right with himself if they crossed the point of no return without making sure Hesh understood what this really entailed, what he was really getting himself into.

The soldier only grinned down at him, chest heaving a bit as his hand slid up the back of Kick’s neck, carding through his hair and sending a tingle down the man’s spine. Kick’s cheeks were equally pinkened, his lips ghosting over Hesh’s as he waited what felt like too long for the man’s answer, fearing the worst despite the way Hesh’s cock was throbbing against his through their clothing.

“Yeah” the soldier nodded, kissing him deeply, both hands tangling up in Kick’s cropped hair now. “You’re all I want” Hesh whispered against his reddened lips. A sigh of relief, need, and something that felt strangely like ecstasy escaped Kick, his eyes closed in bliss as he took in all of Hesh, his strong scent, the scorching heat of the man’s body against his, the very essence that made up the man. Kick, for a moment, existed on a different plane. One where he simultaneously felt unreal and more alive than he ever had. A third space, one that Hesh was carving out in his soul, slotting himself in whether Kick liked it or not. He wasn't too sure if Hesh meant he wanted him tonight or forever, and he didn't have the heart or capacity to ask just yet. Chickening out, he wanted to take what he could get. If Hesh only wanted to fool around, he’d take it. Take everything the younger man would grace him with until he ran dry, even if it meant he’d always be a little out of reach, even if it’d take all the heart the amber eyed man had left and hung it out to dry. Kick didn’t need complete reciprocation right now, he figured. He just needed Hesh.

One hand slid down the soldier's sweats, palming at his rigid shaft through the fabric of his boxers. It drew a mind numbingly lustful groan from the man, one that had Kick leaking even more into his own clothing, watching the way his pretty lips parted before he took the bottom one between his teeth, grinding into Kick’s hand.

“Tell me…tell me what you want, David” Kick’s voice was husky and torrid, his lips brushing against the younger man’s balmy neck, peppering little kisses all over the skin and up to his jaw while his fingers curled around the length of his dick, stroking easily over the fabric. Hesh’s breathing was raggedy, shamelessly groaning into Kick’s hair as he clutched onto the man’s shoulders, squeezing him like a lifeline, tethering himself to Kick like he was the only tangible thing left.

“Fuck, you, I want you, Kick…anything, please” he grunted lowly as his cock throbbed in the older man’s grip, the plea slipping from his lips as he lost himself in the touch. His breath feverish against Kick’s scalp, nuzzling himself into the man’s hair with a tenderness that didn’t go unnoticed, making Kick’s heart beat what felt almost irregularly. The plea was enough to have his lips slipping away from his neck, free hand cradling Hesh’s jaw to press a kiss to his lips.

Kick retracted his hands and took one of Hesh’s, leading the man over to his own bed like he belonged in the room himself. Sitting Hesh down on the edge, he surprised the both of them a bit as he sank to his knees, fingers curling under the band of his sweats one last time before he started sliding them down, taking the man’s boxers in the same go. Stripping him bare now, Hesh blushed even more, a smile curling on Kick’s face at the precious sight.

Those green eyes stared down at Kick as his cock sprang free, helping to remove his clothing from his long legs. The sight sent a pang of heat coursing through Kick’s lower half, his own cock throbbing near painfully as he tried to commit this moment to memory. A hand wrapped around the base of Hesh’s thick shaft, rewarding Kick with a lovely groan as their eyes met, a silent plea of permission to keep going. Licking his lips as the younger man nodded wordlessly, Hesh was already gripping the bed sheets in an attempt to restrain himself.

It was all Kick needed before he was wrapping his lips around the throbbing red head of Hesh’s cock, tongue swiping over the slit to lap up what had leaked from it. The movement ripped a low moan from the man above him, his hips twitching lightly, head being thrown back as heat began to pool in his lower stomach already. The noises Hesh tried to hold back had Kick’s free hand reaching down to palm at his own crotch as he took more of Hesh into his mouth, a groan leaving his own stretched lips as he filled his mouth up with as much of the man’s length as he could, nearly just as desperate to have him.

“Ah, fuck…Kick, t-that’s, shit-” Hesh’s voice got almost higher in pitch, hips bucking his cock into Kick’s mouth of their own volition. Kick stared up at the man, head bobbing up and down his length as his mind swam. Hesh looked so fucking pretty, his cock twitching and leaking down the hot tongue swirling around it. Like some sort of Greek god, Kick figured, as he savored the taste on his tongue.

It was a blur as Hesh’s hand found Kick’s hair, tangling in the strands, resting near the nape of his neck as Kick tightened his lips around the cock he was attempting to fit down his throat. It pulled a whorish noise from the man above him, and he swallowed every shot of cum that Hesh gave him, watching the man above him clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle his moaning.

The poor man panted as he was situated on the edge of his bed, a slight tremble racking his thick, hairy thighs as they were bracketed around Kick’s shoulders. Kick smiled at the sight, that odd swelling in his heart, the one that felt tender to the touch, was never far behind his lust for the soldier. They were interlinked, mingling like they belonged to one another, creating a heady mix that threatened to choke Kick out if he wasn’t careful.

He gave Hesh a moment to recover, sliding his hands up and down those shaky thighs, fingers curling around his hips as the man above looked down at him, a gaze set with so much reverence it made the older man’s heart stop, he was sure of it. Hesh was flushed, his tanned skin slicked with a sweaty sheen from his neck all the way down his vast chest, the warmth of the barracks in the summertime only aiding the heat the two men were creating between themselves. The younger man’s hands were loosely combing through Kick’s short locks, his cock still hard and throbbing with a need that wasn’t yet satiated.

“God…c’mere” Hesh rasped out, trying to pull Kick up for a kiss, bending down a bit to meet him halfway, before Kick stood up from the cool tile himself. His broad, shirtless body towering over the soldier as he cupped his face in his own clammy hands, lips pressing softly to one another as Hesh started to fumble with Kick’s belt buckle, thick fingers set with a slight shake as he worked the leather through the loops.

Kick smirked against the man’s red bitten lips as he gave soft, sensual kisses to Hesh, letting him taste his own spend. “Eager, huh, baby?” the amusement in his tone almost made Hesh whine, drawing an undying need out from the pit of his chest. The pet name even more so, the foreign word on his tongue releasing a soft moan right back into Kick's mouth, relaxing him almost.

“Shut up” the younger man smiled easily, his tone lacking all its defense as his fingers deftly worked Kick’s belt off his hips, letting it fall to the tile below with the rest of their shed clothes. Kick tried to keep his composure, but a part of him was almost hesitant to let the man see him in a more undressed state. He wasn’t one to be insecure of himself, no. He was well aware of all he had to offer, and he was far from ashamed. And yet Hesh was different in his mind, in his heart. He found himself hoping his body, his abilities, would keep Hesh coming back for more, in case that was all that appealed to the younger man. If he couldn’t offer the soldier a good fuck or a nice, hot mouth to return to, would he come back to him at all? He refused to worry about it at the moment, desperate to commit the scorch of Hesh’s skin and the lingering taste of the man on his tongue to memory. Desperate.

Hesh kept his mouth on Kick’s, the men breathing synchronously as the older man’s button and zipper were undone, pants being slid down the thick of his thighs, revealing the smooth, creamy skin underneath. His skin was more paled than Hesh’s, but littered with enough darker hair, and a deep scar running up the side of his knee. Kick helped shake his pants off, stepping out of them as his hands tightened on Hesh’s warm shoulders. Hesh couldn’t wait any longer to palm at the outline of Kick’s cock, a quiet groan rumbling from the man’s throat.

It felt too natural with Hesh. Too natural as he helped the man slide his boxers off as well, the pink head of his cock weeping down his length. So natural as he maneuvered Hesh up onto the bed, crawling overtop his body, chuckling deeply as their knees knocked together, nearly sending the older man off the edge of the twin bed they both struggled to fit on. “Don’t knock me off yet, Walker, just gettin started with you” The sound of Hesh’s laughter in response to the tease set Kick’s heart blazing again. The two men’s lips never unlocked. Deep, firm kisses slowly being shared as Kick’s defined body pressed against the man’s beneath him, their stiff cocks smushing together, irregulating their breaths all over again.

Sweaty bodies crowded together on the small bed, Kick didn’t mind the position at all, despite the cry from his lower back at the angle he was situated in. How could he care, anyhow? How could he ever care when he had such a godlike man beneath him? Cock grinding against his own, those sweet groans filling his mouth as he smiles against Hesh’s lips. Kick didn’t mind going at Hesh’s pace, he wasn’t sure how much experience the kid had, but all that mattered was that he made them both feel good. Hesh’s sweeter, more tender touches and grasps, his warm skin and hot breath had slowed down Kick’s sense of time. Stuck in an endless loop it seemed, his mind was molten lava, ready to pour from his ears as he grinded himself down on the man, licking his own fingers before trailing them between those thick thighs.

Hesh’s breath stuttered a bit in his throat, Kick’s warm fingertip circling his hole, prepping him. His shuddering breath made the older man smile against his lips, his touch firm but gentle enough to coax Hesh into relaxing more. “Easy, sweetheart… feels good, yeah?” Kick soothed, his little smirk never leaving as he pressed kisses to Hesh’s jawline, opening him up slowly with one long finger as gently as he could, due to the lack of any real lube available. Hesh grunted, hissing at the stretch of his tightness, his face morphing into one of bliss as Kick started to pump his finger in and out. “Y-yeah…feels fucking good” Hesh breathed out deeply, a hand clawing into the older man’s shoulder, groaning into his neck. Kick worked him open on one finger, adding more spit as he pushed another inside of the man beneath him, cooing at him softly, voice deeper as he praised Hesh for taking his fingers so well. The operators sweat slickened bodies kept one another warm, sharing each others air as Kick worked him up, fucking him with two digits, his own cock twitching and leaking onto his stomach at the sounds the younger man made. His grunts and near moans made Kick hungrier for him, mesmerized by the way his thick lashes fluttered.

“Kick, please…fuck I need more” Hesh’s rough voice pleaded with the man, green eyes gazing into his, hips bucking into the easy thrusts of Kick’s fingers. Kick smirked at him as he curled those fingers right into that sweet spot within Hesh, watching the man’s reaction, a gruff moan being ripped from the soldier's throat. The older man pressed more hot kisses to his neck, his roughened voice whispering into Hesh’s ear.

“Yeah? Ready for my cock, are ya? Go ahead baby, tell me what you want me to do with this hole…” Kick muttered, smirking as he teased Hesh just a bit, watching the man get a little more desperate under him. “Yeah…want you, want you to fuck me, please” Hesh groaned as Kick’s fingers kept finding their way in and out of him.

It was all Kick needed, unable to wait much longer himself to sink into Hesh’s warmth. He withdrew his fingers from Hesh, shamelessly licking them to gather more spit before reaching down to stroke his leaking cock. The sight made Hesh groan, his hand reaching up to brush the wisps of hair from Kick’s sweaty forehead, his touch never wavering with its gentleness. The older man positioned himself between Hesh’s long legs, one of them practically hanging off the bed to accommodate him, their bodies contorted on the small mattress without a care in the world. Kick nearly had tunnel vision as he glided his tip up and down Hesh’s puckered hole, breathing heavier as he bit his bottom lip.

“Might burn a little at first, yeah? Sure you’re ready for me?” He smirked down at Hesh, propped on an elbow with one thick bicep steadied next to the man’s head as he ignored the burn in his hamstrings, far too mesmerized by the skin on skin touch and the glitter in those green eyes he couldn’t tear his gaze from. His weeping, throbbing cock provided more lubrication, slickening Hesh’s hole further. Hesh wordlessly nodded, grinning back up at the man as his hands found Kick’s shoulders. Kick chuckled deeply, before beginning to press his hard length into the man’s body.

Hesh grunted, his breath faltering in his throat as Kick slowly pushed the head of himself inside, groaning softly as he kept his eyes trained on the younger man, watching the mixed sensations flood his body, eyes fluttering at the stretch. Kick rasped out his praise as he kept slowly sinking inside Hesh, filling him up inch by inch. The soldier grunted and moaned lowly, fingers unconsciously sinking into the firm muscle of Kick’s shoulders.

“That’s it, fuckkk” Kick grunted as he sunk his length fully into Hesh, stilling to let the man catch his breath for a moment, free hand going to wipe a drop of sweat off the man’s hairline, his cock throbbing inside the tightness of Hesh’s hole. “Jesus christ, keep going…” Hesh breathed out into the crease of Kick’s neck. He obeyed, slowly pulling out a bit just to push right back in, tearing a delicious moan from Hesh’s throat. The pace was easy at first, Kick trying to hold himself back from fucking Hesh too quickly. The moments were a blur, both men drowning in one another's bodies, the moment far more sincere than Kick’s encounters typically were. The man utterly lost in the sensation of his sweat slickened body pressing Hesh’s into the narrow mattress, the feel of his rigid cock sliding in and out of the depths of the man below. He felt as if he were being changed somehow, transformed into a different man. The intimate moment fixing up some broken part of him, as if Hesh had the ability to repair what once was, at some point in time.

Time slowed down for the pair, low grunts and groans flying from Kick’s mouth as his elbows stayed bracketed around Hesh’s head, the eye contact soft, yet intense in its connection. Neither man could speak, both hurtling towards their peak faster than they could control. The mattress hinges squeaked, and Hesh moaned deeply into Kick’s ear, flooding his brain with nothing but the sweet sound. The soldier's nails clawed into the skin of Kick’s back, leaving marks that the older man hoped branded him for life, marking him indefinitely.

══════════════════════

They laid against one another for god knows how long.

Sweaty bodies finally having caught their breath, both men too drunk on the feeling of the other to care about how loud they might’ve been, or how stuffy Hesh’s room was around them. Kick pressed a kiss to the younger man's lips, muttering of his pride in the soldier, how well he did, how fucking perfect he was. Unable to keep the reverence from his voice, he didn’t care how his tenderness for the man displayed itself, unable to be concerned with crossing any potential lines while his head was swimming with endorphins, and that sickly feeling he couldn’t quite name. Or the one he perhaps just didn’t want to name.

It wasn’t love, he knew. Told himself. He was simply infatuated. Obsessed might’ve been pushing it, although the man lying underneath him, filled with his cum, certainly felt like some sort of drug frying his synapses. As much as his mind tried to prevent itself from worrying about the matter in the moment, well, Kick always had been a problem solver. That insatiable need to understand his surroundings, his problems, was nagging at him. His slick chest was pressed to Hesh’s, legs tangled as both men refused to move, both their bodies beginning to cramp up a bit on the narrow mattress.

It was Hesh that spoke first, the man’s face buried into Kick’s neck, inhaling the sweat and musk that wafted from his skin.

“Thank you…” his voice softer now, two orgasms tearing him apart and building him back up while his fingers danced over the fresh pink scratches adorning Kick’s back and shoulders. The older man sighed silently into Hesh’s neck, the warm breath sending a tingle down the soldier's spinal cord.

“Thanking me for stretching you out with no lube? You sure?” Kick muttered frivolously, smirking as he pressed a light kiss to the man’s neck. It earned him a gruff laugh from Hesh, hands smoothing up and down the expanse of Kick’s back now, unknowingly testing the man’s capacity for keeping his mouth shut at the intimacy of it all.

“Yeah, totally, a real gentleman you are…” Hesh echoed his sarcastic little tone, both men’s faces pressed into the creases of one anothers necks, effectively hiding the boyish grin neither of them seemed able to rid themselves of. “I mean, thank you for…” the younger man’s voice trailed off unwittingly, unsure of how to speak his thoughts.

“For being with me…” Hesh finished after Kick’s gracious moment of silence, his voice holding a hesitation, his hands never stopping their gentle graze along the corded muscle of the man’s back. It made Kick’s breath still for a quiet moment, his mind swirling sluggishly with a million different meanings behind the man’s gratitude. He was silent still, hoping for elaboration, if not due to the fear that upon opening his mouth, his own misinterpretation might muck everything up. His careless streak of praise and banter shut itself up momentarily, replaced by a nagging in the back of his head.

When he didn’t get anything, he figured one of them had to speak sometime or another. Although he briefly wondered if it’d be better to die than speak. If he could settle for never opening up the opportunity for David Walker to become a wound. One that he’d no doubt pick at until infection mutilated his bones.

“You’re thankful for getting laid?” Kick wanted to wince as soon as he spoke, his attempt at humor falling flat. To joke through it wasn’t helping a damn thing, he knew that much, but his heart had a thick layer of concrete built around it, the deflection usually bouncing right off.

He listened to Hesh sigh quietly underneath him, the man’s big hands never stilling their gentle caresses. Kick wasn’t sure he could stand the silence, much as he wanted to keep things as neutral, as safe, as possible. His heart clenched in his chest, constricted as he tried to decipher Hesh’s meaning, his hesitation, the fact that he was still content to be crushed into the bed by the sweaty man atop him, long after the sex was over.

“I’m thankful for you, Kick” Hesh murmured into his ear, his voice holding a tone that Kick couldn’t construe over the pang he felt stab his heart. He wondered if maybe Hesh was actually being straightforward, and he was just missing it, or if perhaps the man just spoke in a different language after fucking the colleague he had unnameable tension with, and maybe Kick was stupid for reading to much into that, too. His mouth didn’t want to respond with anything though, still fighting between honesty and evasion.

It was ridiculous, he knew above all else. That the soldier had him questioning his logical reasoning abilities. That he couldn’t snap out of it, of the knee jerk reaction to gloss over everything with a joke, to prove to somebody, anybody, that he was stronger than he felt sometimes. Unaffected, as if anybody in the history of humanity ever had been. Maybe he could be the first, if he’d just get up and leave Hesh’s quarters.

But he stayed, letting the man trace over his back while he quietly avoided himself for a bit longer, feeling the end of something near. Kick sighed, briefly wondering why Hesh would be so grateful for him. Self depreciation usually wasn’t his style these days, but the question, or rather the statement, crept up on him. He let his heart clench and unclench a couple more times, before deciding that bravery was an option. Bravery in the face of danger, something Merrick spoke to him before. Except there was no real danger here, only the green eyed man below him that instilled a sense of peace that’d become foreign.

“Yeah? I’m thankful for you too, David” Kick’s voice was quiet as he breathed into the man’s neck, feeling his heart prepare to drop despite any response he might receive. If vulnerability was a drug, he’d be fine with staying stone cold sober. But he knew more realistically, blockading himself would hurt too. Scared of both receiving and not receiving anymore affection from the younger man was dizzying, and Hesh seemed to just have that effect.

But he could feel the soldier smile against the skin of his neck, warm hands kneading at his shoulders this time. “I like this, y’know…” Hesh muttered, shifting so that he could look up into Kick’s amber eyes, still unperturbed by the large operator's body draped over his like a weighted blanket. Kick lifted his head from the man’s neck, propping himself up on an elbow for leverage as he met Hesh’s eyes, a small smile gracing his lips whether he meant it to or not.

“I like you” Hesh finished, a twin smile on his own lips. Kick stared down at him, a rush, a smack of emotions hitting him like a freight train. His grin only grew, feeling every ounce of uncertainty fall away, shedding itself like the skin off a snake. Kick’s hand came up to rake through the thick beard covering the younger man’s cheeks and jaw, mesmerized by the sight of the pretty soldier, naked and warm under his own body, professing something he’d bullied himself into believing he’d never get, something he wasn’t sure he’d deserve.

“I like you too, kid”

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