#always feel free to tell me about shit buck

[outsidersstuff16]

Head Canons I have abt them (anon request!)

Order: Ponyboy, Johnny, Dallas, Soda, Darry, Steve, and Two-Bit

there will be ten each

Ponyboy-

Ponyboy seems like the type of person who will read the book before he watches the movie on the book to compare them and show the gang what's different about what.

2. Ponyboy seems like he would struggle to find writing creativity and when it comes to him, he goes into this writing zone and doesn't want to be bothered by anyone for the next 2-3 hours.

3. Ponyboy gives off this feeling that he's nice to everyone as long as they haven't badmouthed the gang or did any of the gang wrong. Like he would stop and help old people across the street because no one else would, You now?

4. I don't think that Ponyboy is a dog or cat guy rather a ferret guy who likes to dress up his fur noodle in things he's crocheted in his free time.

5. I can defiantly see Ponyboy being into what my family calls "grandma hobbies"; things such as Knitting, Crochet, Pottery, and Quilting.

6. Ponyboy is probably hella clumsy, like I could see him messing around on a table at bucks and falling off trying to jump to another table.

7. I feel like if the book was placed in the mid 70's he'd definitely listen to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen or in his current time period he definitely listens to The Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash, he just seems like that type of guy.

8. He definitely treats Johnny to Fast Food when he has the extra money. It's not in a relationship kind of way just a hang out type of thing.

9. I can definitely see Ponyboy having a good 9 or 10 first place medals for track. He's probably what's carrying his schools track team too.

10. Ponyboy definitely helps people who can't get their lockers open at school and it's more than likely his pride and joy. I dare you to convince me otherwise.

Johnny-

1.He is a respectful king and no matter what everyone else says, he is not and innocent bean. Let's be so fr. He literally killed a man for his best friend and hangs out with Dallas Winston and y'all are gonna tell me he's innocent? Yeah right.

2.He has definitely picked up some really dirty jokes from hanging out with Dallas but will only use them in the appropriate setting. If there is something serious going on than he won't let out a joke. A party on the other hand, oh shit he's gonna be saying a dirty joke every 5 minutes.

3.He loves the rain and thinks it's a gift from God. He loves to dance in it alone or when he's feeling depressed or sad he'll just sit in the rain and let it comfort him. He thinks it's prettiest out when it rains. (and I Agree)

4.He loves helping mutts he finds on the streets. He has a best friend German shepherd he named Houston, and he follows him around a lot. I can also see them sleeping and cuddling in the lot together to protect each other.

5.Johnny has definitely influenced Pony to get his Ferret so Houston can play with it for funzees. He has also shown up to like 80% of Ponyboy's track meets.

6.Johnny goes home on Monday afternoons because he knows his parents are at work and he will go into his room and find entertainment for a few hours, shower, change his clothes, and then leave.

7.before his parents started fighting, they would do family outings on Wednesdays and go to restraunts, amusement parks, and fairs together and Johnny still keeps polaroids of those outings.

8.Johnny really doesn't drink but I can see him drinking on those big occasions when school gets out for the summers, or if its someone's birthday, but I think that'd be about it.

9.You can fight me on this in the comments, but I don't care. Johnny definitely has a summer job every summer. He'll work at the movie theater, the drive in, the dingo, or try for cashier at the DX. He always finds a job for the summer.

10.When Johnny's mom and dad started fighting Johnny was his mom's therapist and his dad's shit talking listener. So, like after a fight, Johnny would consol his mom and get her to bed and then listen to his dad talk shit about his mom until he was black out drunk.

Dallas-

1.Dallas has been around his parents fighting a lot and he definitely has mommy issues because of it. His mom has definitely left him for weeks or months at a time to starve growing up which destroyed his relationship with her growing up.

2.Dallas and Tim Shepherd definitely get drunk and sing stupid karaoke together and Ponyboy keeps polaroids of it to give to Dallas later when he's sober and Dallas keeps them in his wallet.

3.Dallas is definitely scared of spiders because he was bit by one when he was like 11 and has never let it go and so the gang will mess with him on occasion and scare the shit out of him with a rubber or plastic spider or some shit.

4.Dallas got his St. Christopher necklace from a preacher in New York after telling him all that is mother had done to him and him and that preacher still keep in contact. I can just see it man.

5.Dallas definitely smokes the 7-leaf clover, let's just face it, he's probably been to jail for it too. I could see him taking a weekend trip every other month to another state just to get the shit too.

6.He's broke a chair over Two-Bit's back to see if the chair was indestructible. It was not and the gang never let Dallas or Two-Bit forget it. Two-Bit and him do the dumbest shit together all of the time.

7.Dallas has beef with this one cat out in the streets of Tulsa because he was trying to be nice and pet it and it scratched his face all to hell and has been look for it for revenge ever since.

8.Dallas was trying to give Johnny a piggyback ride wearing socks on a hard wood floor and he slipped and fell into a metal chair and broke his pinky and ring finger and kicked the damn chair after he got up.

9.Dallas loves bon fires because it makes him feel like a fire master and he likes to stick sticks into the fire to catch them on fire as if they were torches and will pass it around to tell a spooky story.

10.If this man were to have a pet, he'd have a bearded dragon because he'd find them cool as fuck and he'd scare Ponyboy with it when he mouths off.

Sodapop-

1.Soda gets extra tips at the DX from middle aged women or high school girls and he's never complaining about it because bitch he's broke! He does however split the tips with steve.

2.When Soda's mom and dad passed, Soda got most of her pictures and also got a silk duvet and pillow and he won't use it because he's scared to ruin it.

3.When Soda is mad, he'll go work on cars at the DX and won't come back home for a couple hours till he's calmed down and talks to Darry about his situation. Soda is really car smart too.

4.Soda at some point fixed and rebuilt and engine and everyone went out to celebrate it because it was Soda's equivalent to graduating and it was the happiest day of his life and have about 20 different polaroids of the engine and celebration in his work shirt.

5.He picks on Steve ALL of the time at work and Steve almost always gets him back with a really fucked up prank for example, wrapping the staff urinal with Surran wrap and 9 times out of 10 you'll hear Soda yell "Steve, You FUCKHEAD!"

6.Soda and Steve at some point were dealing with a rude customer and Dallas Walked in and they all just started making fun of this person with no chill and everyone was laughing about it for the next 3 days after it happened.

7.Soda love to watch the nearby rivers flow. It's like free therapy to him and it became his obsession when he was 12. His mother showed him that spot. Soda goes there to think when he's really upset. When his dad and mom died, he went there and camped for 2 days.

8.him and Steve will make extremely offensive jokes about each other but will refuse every single time to crack a joke about the Death of Soda's Mom and Dad and I mean refuse.

9.Soda will steal Soda he's never tried during his shift and give a review to Steve so Steve will know what he should try when he goes in. Sometimes on their day off on the way to a rodeo, Steve will stop for drinks and buy one that Soda rated poorly, and Soda almost threw hands with Steve because of it.

10.Soda likes to give each rodeo trip a nickname like if someone got flung into a wall by a bull, he'll call it the the bull-wall rodeo for the rest of his life and everyone will know what he's talking about.

Darry-

1.Darry is a prankster at work. He just is. I can see him putting charcoal paste on his boss's radio announcer and he put it right up to his lips and was practically making out with the thing and everyone was laughing at Darry's boss the whole day.

2.Darry wanted to go to college to do Physical Therapy on people but when his parents died, he had to use his college funds to pay for the caskets and funeral service and he cries about it often.

3.Darry and Dallas have man to man talks about stuff that upset them over the week and nobody knows about these talks because it's like their therapy that they can have for free, and they can both trust each other to keep it unknown.

4.At some point Darry went to work incredibly sick and passed out while finishing a roofing job and he was taken to the hospital and when Soda came to see him Darry broke down because of stress.

5.Darry tries to participate in church with his brothers every other Sunday and it always makes him feel like his week will be better. He finds it as a good reset.

6.Darry likes to make faces at babies at the store and when the baby starts giggling excessively Darry runs for it. He did this one time when he was in the store with Soda and Soda told everyone.

7.Darry likes to put Steve in a headlock as his hi to Steve and when Darry doesn't do this, everyone questions if he's ok and if something happened at work for him to not do that to Steve.

8.Darry won't get a dog till Pony turn 17 and more mature because then the responsibility of the dog can be split more even, and he'd get it as a gift for Pony.

9.Darry has tripped Ponyboy down the stairs for being mouthy and Ponyboy will never let him live it down and Darry is still very proud of his actions to this day.

10.Darry was definitely the quarterback for the football team and his dad was more than proud of him for it. They celebrated with Darry the night he was announced quarterback.

Steve-

1.he's very insecure of his nose. Like people who walk into the DX will make fun of him and mock him for it. At some point it got so bad Steve had to start working exclusively in the back of the DX on cars.

2.He loves rodeos because his mom used to work at them when he was little, so he became very accustomed to watching them he, at some point, got so close with one of the rodeo stars that he was allowed to ride his horse and do some of the jumps.

3.Stevie boy here does not like chocolate cake as much as everyone in this fandom thinks. He likes it enough to eat it. Like Two-Bit ate chocolate cake in one scene and everyone kinda looked over it but Steve eats it and everyone's all like "OHHHHHHHH".

4.Steve had a rough childhood and he had to get close with his male neighbor to learn basic 'dad' tasks from him. So, Steve and his neighbor are really close and have a really good relationship and respect for each other.

5.Steve enjoys drinking on Friday nights at bucks and more often than not Buck will let him have the beer or shots on the house. Steve doesn't get black out drunk but just enough to get buzzed and feel nice.

6.Steve saves up for his own car. He has a separate job where all of the money he earns goes towards buying his first car all on his own and his mom knows of it and is really impressed with Steve's financial decision.

7.If Steve were to have a pet, he'd have a cockatiel named Fred (My sister's idea) and this damn bird would piss Soda, Pony, and Dally so much it's actually crazy. Dallas and this damned bird had a roasting competition, and everyone was judging the shit out of them.

8.Steve likes to bully and I mean bully the shit out of Two-Bit for the fact that he watches Mickey Mouse. However, Steve calmed down on it because Two-Bit doesn't even watch Mickey Mouse all of the time.

9.Steve trips up the girls that make Soda uncomfortable with their comments on Soda's physical appearance. At some point one girl was tripped so hard her face go like 30 scratches on it and it was hilarious.

10.Steve and Two-Bit will do extremely dumb shit together all of the fucking time. Literally Steve tried to do a backflip off of the front porch of the Curtis house and Two-Bit tried to catch him and they both tripped and hit their heads harder as fuck and then blamed Ponyboy.

Two-Bit

1.Well, it's Two-Bit he's a wild card. Unless someone died, he's saying the most random shit ever. The boys were at the drive in and all Two-Bit had to say was "damn I took the longest piss ever yesterday I pissed the new Mississippi River, man."

2.Two-Bit likes to blame Ponyboy for anything and everything he can and everyone finds it so funny because it makes them seem so much alike siblings and its actually so unreal and funny.

3.Whenever Two-Bit is upset, he'll talk to Soda or Steve about it and 9 times out of 10 they can help him out with it. He's really good at getting help when he needs it.

4.Him, Steve and Dallas are some hyper motherfuckers around each other and will all do some dumb shit that will end up hurting all three or two out of the three on one of the three and they can't help but act like total crackheads around each other.

5.Two-Bit isn't actually as obsessed with Mickey Mouse as everyone makes it seems he just happens to enjoy it but that doesn't necessarily mean he has to be absolutely obsessed with it.

6.If Two-Bit had a pet I'm pretty sure he'd have a Raccoon, tell me those bitches don't give off the same energy I know he'd be feeding the raccoon hotdogs 24/7 365. That raccoon is probably fat as fuck man.

7.Two-Bit likes to take walks around Tulsa with Tim or Curly Shepherd and crack the corniest jokes ever with them and wave down cops just to tell them that there was 'trouble' at the dingo.

8.Two-Bit likes to go and volunteer at vet clinics and somehow can always get at least 15 dogs adopted in 1 day and he calls it his big boy charm and use that information as you will.

9.Two-Bit likes to pick berries for Darry so he can make pie, fruit salads, and other deserts. He also has a designated basket for it and unless he has that specific basket, he won't go, he'll just stay home.

10.Two-Bit steals the ingredients for smores and makes a bon fire to roast them with the gang and I already know he likes his mallow burnt and that's ok because that's when they're best and him burning the mallow grosses Dallas out so so so much.

The End

A/n thank you sm for requesting this let me know if you would like more head canons or one including Y/n or spicy ones. Love y'all see ya next time!❤😘

[uglygirlprettyboy]

HIYA SPOOPY THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THIS MWAH

okay okay okay so garfield was only in office for six months before he was shot and killed (though he would end up dying nearly two months after the actual wound) by charles j. guiteau, a disgruntled office seeker who felt he was owed a position as ambassador to france after giving a couple speeches in support of garfield’s campaign—and when he was denied the position by someone working for garfield, he supposedly had a vision from god, who told him he needed to kill garfield in order to reunite the republican party and save the country.

but what’s particularly neat about garfield is that he never has explicit political ambitions. he grew up incredibly poor, as his father died when he was 2, and dreamt of becoming a seaman—until, i believe, he fell into the water while at his job at the docks, and those dreams kinda went away lmao.

he was a classics professor (amongst other things) for a long time, which is how he met his wife, lucretia, and he worked on the beginnings of the pythagorean theorem.

he served in the civil war, and eventually was asked by lincoln himself to serve in the ohio state senate, which he did for nine terms—until he was nominated for president at the republican convention.

but here’s the fun part—he never signed up for it. he was giving a speech at the convention in support of another candidate, and when he finished, the crowd was so impressed that they chose to nominate garfield instead of the other dude, despite the fact that he was never even in the running. (on the podium, he actually laughed off the suggestion after someone in the crowd yelled out that they should just vote for garfield)

he barely did any campaigning, and still managed to win by a sliver of the vote as a dark horse candidate.

frederick douglass, a huge abolitionist leader and an escaped slave, was a massive supporter of garfield throughout his campaign, telling black americans that garfield was the man to support. he would later lead the procession at garfield’s inauguration.

he was a truly genius man, and was amazingly well-liked by the entire country, considering the fact that it was only twenty years after the end of the civil war. he was actually considered the first president to really feel like the president of the entire country again, as opposed to just the north :)

when he was on his deathbed, and was being taken to a home on the coast of new jersey (if i remember that correctly) for his final days, people lined up along the railroad for miles, tossing hay onto the tracks to soften his way. volunteers actually extended the train tracks all the way up to the house to make his journey easier on him.

his funeral was one of the largest presidential funerals in american history, if not the largest.

he was a genuinely good man, who, i’m his brief term, worked to end the spoils system and improve civil service reform in the country—and also happens to be my biggest special interest EVER. love talking about him.

oh, and charles guiteau, the man who killed him (and who later said at his trial that “the doctors killed garfield, i only shot him”, which is actually really true but i can’t go into it because my phone is rapidly dying lmao)? he got kicked out of a “free love” colony (ie. sex colony) because no one liked him or wanted to sleep with him, which is just insanely funny to me.

ONG THATS SO COOL I DIDNT KNWO ANY OF THAT SHIT

(also i may have voted for the shitty guy in the assassination vs president thing my bad)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[satorusluver]

Wanna Bet?

Satosugu x female reader

Minors DNI

Tags/Warnings: smut, threesome sort of, slight breast play, alcohol mention (they're sober tho), princess as a nickname because it's my weakness lol

Word count: 800 ish

A/N: Idek what this is, it was just a scene in my head that's been sitting in my drafts so *throws it at you and runs*

You stare down at the panting mess of your friend Satoru under you. He's sprawled out on the bed, white hair blending in with the pillowcase. His hands are gripping your thighs and his fingertips lightly dig into the soft flesh as you grind back and forth on him, the outer lips of your pussy sliding up and down the length of his hard dick. You've been doing this for a couple of minutes now, never working up the courage to actually put it in. It's clearly getting to Satoru, who looks like he'd be about ready to start begging if his pride would let him, which it won't. But now he's chewing on his lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin, and his icy blue eyes keep rolling back as he gently grinds up against you. The stimulation feels good, but never quite enough.

"I don't know what you're so afraid of, it's not like you're a virgin." You hear the deep voice of Suguru from behind you and feel his large hands ghost over the curve of your waist.

"I-I know...but look at him, he's huge," you stammer, looking to where the fat head of Satoru's cock is peeking out from between your pussy lips.

"He's no bigger than me," Suguru replies smugly, his hands still trailing up your waist until he cups your breasts, and although you can't see his face, you can hear the grin in his voice. "Don't tell me you're too much of a baby to sit on a dick?"

"If you keep talking shit, I'm not gonna let you fuck me after him," you hiss, your hips still slowly moving back and forth on Satoru's length, the friction against your clit causing you to stifle a moan as you try to sound firm.

"You're the one who got drunk the other night and admitted you've always wanted to know what both of our dicks felt like." As he speaks, the pads of Suguru's thumbs tease your nipples until they stiffen under his touch.

God, that was embarrassing of you. But really, who could blame you when you had two of the most attractive men you'd ever seen as your closest friends? It's honestly a miracle it took so many years for you to let your attraction to them slip.

"Well, you guys are the ones who said you wanted to actually let me do it!"

"We did. So why don't you go ahead and actually put it in?" Satoru finally speaks, bucking his hips impatiently. He's trying to keep his cool, but a hint of desperation is creeping into his usually cocky voice.

"He's right, haven't you tortured poor Toru enough? Come on, lift your hips a little. I'll help you since you apparently need it..."

You do as Suguru says, lifting your hips up, and you watch as his hand curls around the base of Satoru's dick so casually you're a little thrown off by it. The lack of any and all hesitation has you silently wondering if he'd done it before, but you don't have much time to think about it before Suguru is lining up the head of Satoru's cock with your entrance, gently moving it back and forth against your slit to get it wet enough to go in with ease.

"Go on then, princess. Or do you need me to hold your hand, too?" Suguru's making fun of you, but he actually does interlace the fingers of his free hand with yours, and his lips brush against your own affectionately.

You groan into Suguru's mouth the moment you finally sink down onto Satoru's cock, and you can feel his lips turn up in a smirk at the sound you make. You take in a sharp breath at the stinging feeling the stretch causes once you feel him bottom out. For a moment, you're silently cursing yourself for ever admitting you wanted to try this, but then your walls begin to adjust to his size and the pain begins to melt away until all that's left is the feeling of being deliciously and utterly full in a way you've never felt before.

"Fuck," Satoru curses, "she's so fuckin' tight."

"Yeahhh?" Suguru drawls, his voice somehow sounding even lower than usual. "You look like you're trying not to blow your load already," he chuckles. Well, at least you're not the only one he's poking fun at.

"I'll last longer than you," Satoru insists, although his teeth are gritted slightly as though he's already struggling with his self-control.

"You wanna bet? We got all night after all, don't we, princess?" You feel Suguru's hot breath just below your ear before he playfully nips at the sensitive skin there, and you brace yourself for what is about to be a very long night.

[hpimagines]

You know better. T.N

Tw: Sub/Dom, unprotected, pain kink (kinda), probably more idk it’s late sry

You were at a celebratory Slytherin party, the quidditch team had just won a game against Gryffindor and everyone was as thrilled. Everyone drinking and partaking in the victory- everyone except for your boyfriend, Theodore Nott. He was actually really excited for the party, until he saw you outfit that is.

The way you danced, swinging your hips as if no one was watching. Though, someone was watching, he was. Any previous excitement leaving the second his jaw clenched. He made his way towards the drink table, downing a few shots before walking up to you. You jumped at the sudden hands around your waist, going to push the person off before getting a wiff of his oh so familiar scent. “Amore, what the fuck do you think you’re wearing?” His voice low and rough, hot breath against your ear sending shivers through your body. You turn around, looking up into his eyes “A dress, obviously” you smiled up at him teasingly. “You know how I feel about showing off what’s mine” As the last word left his lips you felt a tight squeeze on your ass, small whimper leaving you lips. “Act like a brat all you want, you’re already ruined for wearing this shit without asking.” Though you should be annoyed, your core ached. You wanted to push his buttons more- and so you did. “Okay then, if you say so” You winked, walking away towards Enzo.

“I need you to help me out just like flirt with me or something” you quickly said approaching him. “No thanks, I’m not getting killed for you” he rolled his eyes returning to his drink. “Fine then” instead of walking off you fake laughed, hand landing on Enzo’s shoulder. You knew that was all he needed, and you were right. Almost as if it was on queue Theo’s hand was wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you with him.

Before you knew it your body was pushed against his door, hand landing on your neck squeezing harshly. “You always think you can get away with everything, you’re going to learn today principessa” His lips found their way to yours, immediately taking control. His free hand sliding up and down your thighs, slapping your ass occasionally- “Such a dirty girl, using my own friends to make me jealous” He began to rip your dress off, tearing it in the process. “That should’ve never left this room, thank me for ruining it.” You face flushed, though you were sad about the dress this turned you on so much, “Thank you..” you thought for a moment “sir.” Might as well go all in. His reaction towards the name was nearly animalistic, grabbing you by your waist and harshly throwing you onto the bed. “You have no clue what you do to me, drive me fucking crazy”

His face found its way between your thighs, slowly kissing their way up towards your heat. Your underwear was pooling more and more, wet spot growing more noticeable by the second. Just as his lips were to meet your aching core he simply skipped over it, kisses landing onto the opposite thigh- you felt his smirk against your skin as you lightly whimpered at the lack of contact. Your hips began to involuntarily buck forward, earning a slap on your inner thigh. “Tell me how much you want it” His fingers tracing up your boobs, slowly circling over your hard nipples.

“Please Sir, I want it so bad, I need you so bad please, anything” Your words coming out softly “Good girl.” Two fingers plunged into you, starting at a dangerously fast speed causing immediate pleasure. Moans began to escape your mouth “I knew you’d fucking love this, my dirty girl.” Just as you were going to respond you felt his tongue swipe over your clit, softly sucking, “So fucking delicious” His speed of eating you quickening, your moans echoing in the room. You didn’t care if anyone could hear you.

“All of this and you haven’t even had my cock yet” He chuckled, removing his fingers and standing up. “Turn over, ass up for me.” He demanded as he began to remove his pants. You immediately did as he said, wanting his dick as quick as possible. Without warning he slammed into you, a screaming moan leaving you a mix of pleasure and pain that you loved. That you craved. His pace was hard and fast, perfectly hitting your g-spot.

“so fucking tight.” He moaned out, voice sounding deep and husky. You couldn’t think straight, his harsh pace driving you crazy. “whose fucking body is this, hm?” Harsh slap landing on your ass, whimper leaving your mouth. “YOURS S-SIR” you choked out between moans. Gripping your hair from the back he yanked you towards him, your back arching towards his chest.

He was hitting an entirely new area now, your pleasure increasing more than you thought possible. “You like this don’t you bitch?” another slap landing across your chest, the way it stung your sensitive nipples made your core tighten. You were too lost in ecstasy to realize you didn’t respond- harsher slap landing on your already aching chest. “Did I not ask you a fucking question?.” The slap sent you over the edge, you felt your orgasm flowing over you “YES FUCK! I FUCKING LOVE IT” Your moans sounding more like screaming sobs of pleasure.

His thrusts became sloppier as your walls clenched around him. “I’m cumming fuck fuck” He slammed into you a few more times, moaning a string of italian curse words before pulling out and collapsing beside you.

“You took that so well Amore mio” He kissed your cheek pulling you close to him.

[xfgpng]

𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

— : [ nsfw ] smut, unprotected sex, praise kink, grinding, riding, creampie pie

— wc : 1,2k

commissioned! ✅

the lights are off. the only thing lighting your way is the dimly lit candles and the moon shining through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. the pretty lace almost matches the red lace dress you’re wearing.

it had been a joke when you saw it. you didn’t even think he remembered you talking about it until you saw the box laying in the middle of the bed with a note attached to it.

a gift, more for me than you - law

now, you can hardly breathe at the sight of him laying sprawled out in nothing but that sinful tight pants. the buttons are undone and the pants are unzipped but it still hides his very interested friend.

the best part? his hands are above his head, tied to the bed frame and it makes a pretty picture. you almost want to tease him but he looks so good and he did this all for you even when you both knew the man loved to take charge.

“hi baby” he smirks, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. he definitely likes his present and you almost snort at the way his breathing changes. he wants you just as much as you want him, if not more.

he could easily break through the restraints. it’s the excitement of it all and it sends a rather pleasant feeling up your spine.

“hi” you grin, slowly making your way over to him. you purposely sway your hips just to tease him and he groans appreciatively.

oh how good it felt to be wanted by trafalgar law.

he never takes his eyes off you even when you climb onto the bed and then finally, when you straddle him. he can feel how soaked you are through your panties and his pants and he can’t help but buck up into you.

you gasp, hands finding purchase on his abs and you pinch his nipple in retaliation. he gasps and bucks his hips again.

“easy” you frown, “you said you’d let me take the lead”

“and i am” he says, “trust me, i want to fuck you already but i’m working on my patience”

“good boy” you laugh and he raises a brow at you.

“watch yourself” he warns but it does nothing to scare you. you’ve always loved the way he could take charge, and you often let him.

you know he’s really trying his best to behave. he’s always had a thing for your ass and the way it jiggles when he slaps it. he wants nothing more than to grab and squeeze but he’s forced it lie there and take what you’re willing to give.


even if you decided this cute little grinding session was all you wanted until he came in his pants like a teenager. he’d take it.

“so big” you whisper, grinding down harder. you can feel the shape against your lips and it’s not nearly enough to satisfy either of you but you enjoyed being able to tease him back every now and then.

“shit” he grunts, clenching his jaw. you look up at his hands to see him also clenched into fists and you bite your lip to stop the laugh. you didn’t want to push him too much.

“do something” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut when you move faster, pressing down firmer. he can feel the way your body quivers and he’s never been above begging when it came to you, “baby please, i need you”

and you can’t help but give in, just a little. you liked him like this too. all needy and desperate, exactly how he makes you feel all the time.

you slip your panties to the side and pull him out his underwear. he moans, head tilting back and you lean down to kiss and suck on his neck as you push the tip in just a little.

you can tell he’s frustrated by the way he’s trying to move his hips but you hold onto him. you squeeze the base as you rub your wet folds onto his cock. he can’t cum like this but it’s fun to piss him off. you can help yourself.

“fuck.. just..” he bites his tongue and pulls on the tie around his wrists. he can break free if he really wanted to but he’s trying.

this was your moment after all.

“aw” you pout, mocking him, “what’s the matter baby?”

“y/n.. fuck” he takes a deep breath, “i’m warning you, stop messing with me”

“oh?” you tilt your head sideways, still rocking your hips. it feels so good to stimulate your clip this way but you’re close to breaking. “i thought you wanted this?”

“y/n!”

before he can say anything else, you slam your hips down. screaming out when you feel just how deep he is like this and you can’t help but squeeze around him.

he nearly cums from that and he’d be embarrassed about it if he wasn’t so focused on how good it felt inside you. always so soft and warm.

“holy fuck” you moan, keeping still just a moment. you were in over your head but you’d never admit that.

and maybe you wanted to shut him up for once but you were a little too eager but god did it feel so good.

“come on baby” he encourages, back to being smug once he’s calmed down. he can tell you’re more effected now than he is and he’s enjoying it, “be good and ride me”

you want to slap the grin off his face but you’re more focused on fucking yourself on him. it feels good to be so full and with him praising you, it only boosts your ego.

“fuck you’re so sexy like this” he bites his lip, “that’s it, use me”

you cry out when he starts moving his hips in time with your bouncing. you want him to hold you so you lean down and kiss him.

“take me” you whisper and he’s all too pleased by that. he breaks free easily, a little too easy but you don’t have time to be mad when he’s slapping your ass and fucking up into you harder and faster.

your eyes squeeze shut and you spasm around him. you’d never get used to the size or being this full but you wanted it to hurt the next day.

you liked feeling it and he liked knowing he was the cause.

“my sweet thing” he whispers right into your ear, “always so perfect and so good for me”

“gonna be good and cum?” he asks, “make a mess for me okay?”

and you do, biting down onto his shoulder and he grunts but welcomes to pain. he liked being marked up by you.

it’s so messy when he cums inside you, spilling out onto his lap and down onto the sheets. you’d have to clean up in the morning but you were too tired to even move.

“good?” he asks and you nod, feeling sleepy.

“it was good for me too” he kisses the side of your head, “let’s get you cleaned up and into bed”

you smile dreamily at him as he moves you to the side and he gets off the bed. he always takes care of you, making sure you’re comfortable before bed even when you’re protesting about being tired.

[ningvory]

i have to share this thought : (i think about it on a daily)

sometimes i just randomly think about playing truth or dare with best friend! ningning and at first the dare/questions etc were normal but then it escalated to dirty things however reader is very inexperienced so she takes advantage of it, stealing her first kiss, making her eat her out, telling her she’s doing a good job

later you just become her little toy, she would use you in her sleep, use a fucking machine on you

i feel like ningning would be obsessed with reader’s tit, sucking on it whenever she has a chance

anyways that’s it you don’t have to reply! i just wanted to share it with you :)

OMG!?

parings: bestfriend!ningning x inexperienced!reader

synopsis: ning was your best friend who also had a thing for corrupting your innocence

warnings: college au, pussy eating, fuck machine, corruption kink, darcyphilia, fuck machine, somnophilia, scissoring, toys, overstim, dumbification, bondage, strap-on, face sitting, you’re so sensitive but ning’s so mean that she would overstim you on purpose :((

ningning was your best friend since forever! her friends were always confused on how you two even managed to be friends. ning was definitely the popular girl at school who went to almost every frat party, and you were the quiet girl at school, never attending parties.

but ning would definitely drag you to a few parties that would actually be exciting in her opinion! she would dress you in her clothes because she knew you definitely didn’t have any type of clothes for these parties.

ning would always put you in either a black skin-tight dress or a skimpy baby pink dress that would barely cover you up! ning would purposely do this, loving the way you innocently look at her, asking her if she could do your makeup! ning has spent countless nights fingering herself at the thought of sucking on your plush tits and taking away your innocence until she came!!

she decided to stop fantasizing about the dirty thoughts and make them a reality! summer break has started which meant you were free to leave campus and do whatever, you usually got a little summer job for a few bucks until school started back. your phone vibrated, indicating that you got a notification, you opened your phone to see your best friend send you a message.

‘hey babes!! parents left for a trip so sleepover at my house! <3’

once you arrived at ning’s house, she immediately pulled you into a hug making you squeal out and almost drop your bag! you showed up to her house with such a loser outfit, the complete opposite of ning’s outfit! she’s wearing her satin shorts that do nothing to over her up, along with a matching crop top.

“you’re such a loser, but it’s cute.” ning jokingly said to you, pulling you into her house.

ning would drag you to the living room, telling you to sit on the floor as she went to grab 2 red plastic cups and a bunch of different alcohols that her parents drink.

“let’s play truth or dare!” ning excitedly said as she sat down infront of you, placing everything she got from the kitchen to the side of the two of you.

you always said truth so her questions would be innocent at first, ning would ask stuff like if you ever had your first kiss or skinny dipped in a pool, yk shit like that but ofc you said no to all of her questions, you were so innocent it just made ning wanna make you a pretty slut for her!! the first time you said dare, ning dared you to kiss her.

you didn’t know what she meant so you kissed her cheek, thinking nothing of it but she would hold your head in her hands and began to kiss you so passionately, taking your first kiss!! the second time she dared you, she got a little bolder.

“i dare you to have sex with me,” she said as she began to crawl towards you with a innocent smile as if she didn’t just dare you to fuck her!!

you were struggling to say the words you wanted to say! you were so inexperienced, you hardly even masterbaited! but of course ning already knew you were inexperienced in this field so she would take it slow with you!! <33

ning would take her shorts and panties off and sit down on the couch behind her, telling you to sit infront of her on your knees. ning would tell you to take your shirt off as she spread her legs, revealing her dripping cunt to you!

ning would push your head to her cunt, telling you to eat her out, seeing how good you can please her before she teaches you. you were eating her cunny so messy!! kitten licking her cunt first then sucking on her clit and tongue fuck her hole, shaking your head side to side and up and down, her juices getting all over your face!! you were just so cute, doe eyes looking up and her and watching how she would moan and arch her back, moaning out praises until she squirted all over your tits!!

she would pull you up from your knees and kiss you again, tasting herself on your tongue as you were whining into her mouth when you felt her grope your tits, drool spilling out of your mouth as ning was controlling the kiss until you two were out of oxygen. she would pull back and watch how you were trying to catch your breath before she would tell you to take your panties off!! her mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting you.

ning would lay down and pull you on top of her after she reassured you that you weren’t gonna hurt her. she would bring your hips up towards her face and began eating your cunt out! once she stared, she really couldn’t stop! you tasted so good on her tongue she couldn’t stop lapping at your cunny! you would be moaning so much ontop of her, brain short-circuiting with tears rolling down your face, you were so sensitive!! her tongue on your poor cunny was too much so you tried to get off of her but she would force on her face and make you take it!! :((

later on it would be a regular thing, your own bestfriend basically made you her little toy to corrupt! ning would use you whenever she was horny or bored, she didn’t care if you were sleep! she would walk into her room where you were sleeping so peacefully and pull the blankets off you, revealing your naked body to her. she would takes her panties off and begin to rub her cunt on yours aggressively, she would be so mean to you on purpose!! she knew that your cunt was sensitive but she still did it anyway! the feeling would make you jolt awake and you would whine out to her and push her hips away, trying to get her off of you because you couldn’t take it!! but she wouldn’t do anything but pin you to the bed and begin to suck on your plush tits!! :((

ning would definitely be mean on purpose, whenever she wants to eat you out, she would tie your hands together behind your back and make you sit on her face, using her strength to keep you in place on top of her! you would cry out and plea for her to slow down but she would just go faster then she did before, making you ride her face as tears were falling down your face from the sensation!! :((

ning would tie you up to her fuck machine, using the biggest dildo she had and putting the machine on it’s fastest setting. she would be pounding into your cunt as well, with her 13 inched strap on, fucking you so well that you were letting out silent moans!! you were fucked so dumb you couldn’t even form a sentence as she was pulling orgasms and orgasms out of you, making you squirt all over her strap-on and the dildo! i think ning would also sit on your face, shutting you up because you were so damn whiny from the dildo abusing your drooling cunny, she would also pinch your perky nipples when you’re not doing it right!! :((

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #5

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.

MASTER POST

PREVIOUS

“Your mate?” You stutter as you pull yourself out of the water and sit down, dripping wet, on the furs near the fire. “What do you mean that I’m your mate? Isn’t the whole point of volkroth spawning season is that there are no mates. I was under the impression it was a kind of ‘free use’ scenario around here.”

He’s got to be joking, right?

Drohako sets his jaw, but his eyes soften from the blind rage of earlier. His purple irises bore into your soul as he speaks.

“I can see that you weren’t aware of every possibility here,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“No shit, sherlock,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. “What exactly did I get myself into?” Despite trying to play it cool, you’re nervous as hell about what he might say.

“It is common for my people to breed only in the spawning pits. As I’m sure the representative informed you, the volkroth only produce male offspring. We’ve needed females from other species for longer than I’ve existed. The volkroth have adapted to this way of life—but it’s not how it’s always been.” He seems to have calmed down a little as he sits down next to me. His meaty thighs folding under him as he does.

“I knew you, this unassuming, aggravating little thing, were my mate the second you took the thick knot of my cocks. That isn’t something that happens every time we rut a female, human.” His voice deepens as he talks about being buried inside you.

“Mate... The aliens on the station have those. Are you telling me we’re like...married now?” Your throat gets sticky and the word marriage feels thick, like peanut butter.

“I do not know what this marriage word means—If it means that you are mine, and then I will pump you full of my seed until your belly is swollen with my children, then yes. You may call it a marriage.” His filthy words are spoken as plain as day.

“What if I say no?” You interject, “What if I want to fuck some other big dumb alien?” The words sound whiny even to your own ears.

Drohako narrows his eyes. “You are mine, and I will kill any other male for looking at you...do not test me human or there will be consequences.” Though he whispers, it’s almost scarier than when he was yelling.

Consequences.

Is it fucked up that the word has you clenching your pussy?

“What if I can’t behave myself?” You toy with him.

Maybe if he didn’t feed into every brutal fantasy you’ve ever had, this whole mate thing would be a much harder pill to swallow. But your freshly healed pussy throbs at the thought of him taking what he wants from you, of killing another male for just looking at you.

“You will learn discipline, you will obey me, or I’ll restrain you.” A jolt of pleasure thrums up your spine, and you sit up at attention.

“Then what?” you ask, your hand finding its way down to your already slick lips. The big brute of an alien cocks his head as he watches you slide your fingers over your clit.

“I never gave you permission to come,” he says with a glint in his eye.

“Whoops, guess you should tell me how to earn that privilege, shouldn’t you?” You dip a finger into yourself.

“Stop,” he says through gritted teeth. His fists ball up at his sides as he glares at me.

“Does it make you want to punish me? Does your little human mate make you angry, Drohako?” You buck you hips, finding a rhythm.

Drohako, a male of action, doesn’t bother with his words any longer. With two of his massive strides, he bridges the distance between us in the blink of an eye.

With a single fluid motion, he tears the loincloth off his waist. Standing over you, the vee of his groin muscles lead into the swell of his cocks, already thick and drooling. He can act mad all he wants, but you know that his body is screaming for yours. Grabbing his cocks at the root, he pushes them against your mouth.

“Open up, human, prove to me you're worthy of a release.” Drohako wants you to suck his cocks? You were under the assumption that most aliens might not understand what a blow job is...but it seems the volkroth have no misunderstanding on the art of sucking dick.

He grabs your hair, wrapping it around the back of his hand, and pulls your head forward. Your lips are barely opened as the head of one of his prehensile cocks pushes past your lips. Just one of them is enough to fill your entire mouth, but as he shoves the second pulsing member in, you can’t help but gag. Slavia drips from your mouth as he fucks it. Guttural slurping noises fill the cave.

“Touch yourself,” he commands. When you do, you’re even slicker than before, clit throbbing with a pleasure that hovers near pain. Both his hands are woven in your hair, and he’s pushing himself as far into your mouth as he can go, only a little more than halfway down his girthy length.

“Do you want me to fuck you, human?” He gets out between thrusts.

“Yeshfnugpmh,” you gargle as he hits the back of your throat again.

“Do you want my seed dripping out of that swollen cunt of yours?” his breathing is getting uneven, and you feel his balls tighten against his body.

You can’t even make out the words to say yes, but god yes you want him to use you. Your mouth is stuffed too full. You can taste his sweet pre-cum on the back of your tongue, leaking like he’s about to bust. He withdraws and pushes you on you back.

“Are you wet enough for me?” he asks before sliding down your body and hovering his square stubbled jaw over your weeping mound.

“So wet for you,” you croak, your throat not recovered from the fucking he just administered to it.

You expect him to crawl back up your body, to notch his cocks into you and to fuck you until you explode. But you’re grabbing the furs you lay on as he drags his wide, rough tongue up your slit.

“What are you?” he asks, the heat of his breath that fans over your pussy is driving you insane.

“Human,” you breathe, squirming under him.

“Be still,” he commands, putting a hand on the small of your belly. “No, what are you to me?” He asks again, looking up at you with serious eyes.

“...Mate?” You say unsure. He rewards your answer with a slow and firm lick of your clit.

“Say it again,” he says as he bites your inner thigh.

You can’t help but arch up, needing more of his touch.

“Mate, I’m your mate!” you yelp as his lips close over your clit and he begins a relentless rhythm of suction and thrumming of the sensitive nub with his tongue.

“Fuck, Drohako, I’m going to cum,” you mewl under his ministrations. He pushes two of his thick fingers into you, never stopping his aggressive stimulation of your clit. The muscles of your sex clasp around his hand, begging to be fucked harder. You can feel the delicious burn of a building orgasm as it coils in your belly.

“A little further, keep going, don’t stop,” you beg him as he sucks your clit.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to come until my cocks are inside you, human,” he says as he lifts his head from your mound.

Wait? You can’t wait! You’re almost crossing the precipice, at the point of no return.

“Too close, can’t wait,” you pant bucking up against his mouth.

When he growls against your pussy in response, it’s just what you need to cross over. His mouth leaves you at the very second you do, and you can feel his cocks pushing into you as your pussy flutters and you spiral into pleasure.

Every inch of his cocks that pushes past your trembling core only heightens your pleasure into pure ecstasy. Your vision tunnels as he grabs your hips and lifts them off the ground.

Drohako grunts when you go limp in his hands. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that you’re seeing literal stars. Your senses narrow.

The only thing you can see is his sweat covered brow, his black hair sticking to his forehead, and the only sound you can process is the beat of his sac as it slaps into your ass with every vicious stroke.

His cocks coil inside of you, and you feel them knotting themselves together, pushing against your cervix.

"My mate, you're my mate, you're my ma—" Drohako jolts, and his cock shoots his hot seed into your belly. His thick shafts push deeper still, as if he wants to push his cum as far into you as he can. He is so fucking desperate for it to take root.

The locking of his knotted dicks swells, and you can feel it lock inside of you. Even though his thrusting has slowed, they still pump. Drohako collapses onto of you, his colossal body pinning you to the ground.

“Drohako,” you wince as he crushes you underneath him. “I can’t breathe!”

He groans, eyes closed, and flips you both, still locked together until you’re straddling him flat on his back. Your pussy still throbs around him as you let yourself be the one to collapse this time. The sweat of our bodies, the mixture of his cum and your slick, leaves us sticky and panting.

“I like not listening,” you mutter into his big blue chest. An enormous hand slaps your ass, and you clench at the sting. The barbarian's eyes roll back and he moans in response to the motion of your reaction.

Your clenching milks his knot and you feel his release push out of your pussy. He brings another hand down with a crack on the other cheek and you tense and tug at the tie between you again, an unavoidable response to the pain.

“I thought you didn’t want me to move when we’re knotted together?” You pant, reaching a hand back to rub your stinging ass.

“Not in the spawning pits...but here in the home cave, I want your cunt to milk me as long as it can,” he moans, as his cocks pump even harder.

“As long as I can?” you ask with an arched brow as you lean back against his knees, reclining to present him with your knotted pussy. He tucks his chin down, still glistening with your juices, to watch the show. You take his hand and put it over your swollen clit.

“Hit me here,” you command him with a devious smile.

His eyes narrow, but you get no warning before he cracks his hand against your slit.

“Fuck!” you yelp. The reaction of his hand against your already oversensitive clit sends sparks to your core. You squirm and clench so hard that he grunts and holds you tightly against his cocks, both of his hands on your hips.

Even though he’s not thrusting, it almost feels like he is as his knot expands and contracts.

“Again,” you tell him, and he obeys. Each thwack of his big palm bringing you closer to a second finish.

“You’re my mate,” you moan on the smack that pushes you over the edge. His knot spasms, and you swear you can see it bulge in your belly. It pushes against your g-spot and when you orgasm this second time, you can feel the rush of wetness as he makes your pussy squirt for him.

As the aftershocks roll through you, you’re completely boneless. You slump against his warm chest and finally rest. It might not be so bad to be someone’s mate after all.

[lovesclinic]

GREEN LIGHT!┊synopsis: you finally get your hands on your roommate, well your mouth

aged up miles x fem!reader

Genre: filthy filthy porn with a plot

Notes: this is for aged up miles morales btw so ahead in the timeline

Warnings: blowjob, praise, oral fixation, pet names (princess, good girl, sweetheart).

miles and you are in the car driving back home from a party. you lived together, roommates, strictly platonic.

He was tired and could barely keep keep his eyes open. he stands at the traffic light waiting for it to turn green. he leans on the palm of his hand closing his eyes waiting for the light to turn green. you were slightly drunk but not too much. you look over to miles looking at his lap. you think for a few seconds then look at the traffic light.

you move your head towards his lap, miles not noticing yet. you lay your head on his lap. miles doesn’t seem to care since he thought you just wanted to rest your head but what he didn’t expect is that you would open his zipper.

you thought for a second since he was also your best friend but you thought ‘fuck it’. you massage his dick through his pants. his eyes fly open and he looks at you.

“what are you doing..” he asks.

miles takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure "I... I think we should talk about this," he says, his voice shaking slightly.

miles leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath "I mean, I've always thought you were cute, but I didn't think you felt the same way," he admits, looking over at you.

miles smirks softly, seeing how needy you are for him, your legs squirming together. his heart racing as he looks at you. He leans in closer, his hand finding its way onto your thigh

miles groans, his hands running up and down your body as he pulls you closer "fuck, y'don't know how long ive wanted to do this for sweetheart", he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing against your neck.

miles's hands slip under your shirt, their touch sending shivers down your spine. "tell me what you want, baby," he breathes against your skin, his fingers tracing patterns on your stomach.

you lean in, your lips meeting his in a heated kiss. as you feel his tongue fight for dominance against yours, you can feel him growing harder against your leg. "I want you," you moan against his lips. "I want all of you."

"Oh fuck..." He pulls back slightly, undoing his belt and pants with shaking hands. "Get on your knees, baby." He can't believe he's saying these things, but he's too far gone now.

Take me in your mouth." His cock springs free, pulsing with need. You hesitate for a moment before taking him into your mouth, exploring the length of his shaft with your tongue.

Miles's hands run through your hair, his back arching slightly. "Oh fuck yes...", he moans, biting his lower lip. His cock throbs against your tongue, demanding more attention as he leans against the wall for support.

You take him deeper into your mouth, sucking gently on the head while your hand strokes the shaft in time with your bobbing actions. "Fuck yes, baby...", he pants, his hips starting to move in rhythm with your mouth.

Suck it," he growls, his hips bucking forward as he pushes deeper into your mouth. You feel his precum dripping onto your tongue, making you want more of him.

Miles's grip in your hair tightens slightly, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Fuck... I'm close," he warns, his voice strained. "Don't stop now."

Miles's breath catches in his throat as he feels the tension building within him. His hips buck against your mouth, his cock throbbing in anticipation. "Shit... don't stop... good girl..."

You keep going, taking him deeper into your mouth. The taste of him fills you up, making you even more eager for more of him. His precum is starting to flow freely now, coating your tongue and making it slick against his skin.

Miles's breathing is ragged now, his body trembling under the onslaught of pleasure. "Fuck... I'm gonna cum princess...," he warns, his voice hoarse from need.

Suck it, baby," He groans, his hips jerking forward as he empties himself into your mouth. His hot seed fills you up, causing you to gag a little bit as he milks your mouth dry.

Feeling the imminent release, you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, milking him of every last drop. His entire body tenses, a shudder running through him as he comes down from the brink. "Fuck...,"

[blackbat05]

After Missions

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: Miguel rarely let’s anyone in after missions. But he does make exceptions.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Movie was amazing! I would say more but I’ll stop myself. I see a lot of fics for Miguel but there’s few SFW ones, that needs to changed. Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

“You sure you don’t need to get yourself checked out?”

“I’m fine.”

“I can literally see a gash on your side, Miguel.” Jess deadpans.

“I’m fine.”

“Is that all you know how to say?”

“No-yes-argh! Just leave me alone please.” Miguel widens his stride, entering his private space. Well, almost private space.

“I can call her.” Lyla and her uncanny ability to pop up despite not being called for.

“You will do no such thing.” Miguel winces as he takes a seat. Peeling off his suit, he groans as the gash looks at him with a nasty red smile. This was going to take a while.

Lyla shrugs, “Suit yourself boss.” Her hologram switches off quicker than usual and Miguel knows that she’s up to something. Not that he had the energy to care.

Using his left leg, Miguel pulls out the first aid kit with difficulty. The gash was just all in a day’s work, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to stitching it up after every mission. You always did it much better.

“So, are you even going to sleep tonight?”

Miguel sees you standing at the entrance and curses internally.

“One of these days, I’m going to shut Lyla down.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear.

“It was Peter actually. Thank god because he knew you would be to stubborn to call for help.” Despite your jab at Miguel, you didn’t seem to bothered at how grumpy he was.

Sitting across him, you take the needle from Miguel’s hands. “You didn’t think of taking some painkillers before I don’t know- you try and sow yourself up?”

“I don’t need it.” Miguel grunts as you prepare to clean the wound. He hisses loudly as the cotton touches the raw skin.

“Sure tough guy, keep telling yourself that.” You chuckle. “Here, take these.” You pass him a couple of painkillers before getting to work.

Silence takes over as you steadily work on his wounds. Pursing your lips in concentration, you finish the last bit, cutting off the excess string.

“Done!” You stand up slowly to stretch your body. You stand beside Miguel who is still sitting down, tossing on a grey sweater. You run your fingers through his curly hair, giving Miguel a head pat.

“What are you doing?” Miguel doesn’t seem annoyed. In fact, he seemed more confused at your actions.

“A head pat. I thought that would be obvious. For a job well done. Usually the people that I stitch up are way more fidgety.” You mused. “Besides, isn’t it nice?”

Miguel’s about to tell you that he isn’t a domesticated animal but your fingers somehow work magic on his scalp. He finds himself automatically leaning into your touch, letting out a soft purr.

“Not a word to anyone about this.”

“As long as you come straight to me after missions.”

“Deal.”

***

Afterword

“Did you guys see that! Miguel just smiled! Oh the world’s going to end soon.” Peter gasps dramatically as he paces up and down the room with a babbling Mayday.

“I knew our boss had some color to him! He’s not just multiverse business and all.” Pavitr grins. “Hobie come on, gimme my 10 bucks.”

“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this. How was I supposed to know O’Hara had a soft side to him?” Hobie passes him a couple of bills.

“Alright guys, let’s get outta here before Miguel finds out.” Gwen ushers the group towards the exit before all four come to halt to see an unamused Miguel glaring at them.

“Oh shit.”

***

Feel free to explore my other Miguel works here!

[n3ptoonz]

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react when you ride them

this broadcast is brought to you by getting inspired from @dirtymortalkombatconfessions tysm for fueling my raunchy mind 🙏🏾 outworld guys here

all the guys here are submissive in these hcs cause i don't see it enough!!! and reader is GN

explicit content below the cut

Smoke

first of all it's his favorite position. nothing he loves more than holding his partner in his arms while they have power over him at the same time

HE. WHIMPERS. A LOT!!!!

CANNOT keep his hands still he's always massaging or caressing some part of your body

begs. he begs. if you stop moving? he will deadass start tearing up and whispering pleas all in your ear

hold his face while you do it. look him in the ideas and give him praise && give him kisses 😔 he's got enough shit from bi han and this the only way he properly relaxes 💔

Raiden

he's not very vocal at first, but he does sigh and grunt a lot

when he's vocal? he's not loud, but curses up a storm. his eyes get all hazy and glossed over too like you gotta tap him back to reality sometimes

he can get handsy but prefers to either keep his hands in place or have them restrained in some way

speaking of which if you do restrain his hands there's a good chance he'll start bucking once he's close and try to pull free. silly goose, we know how to tie knots around here!

if you get really close to his face like holding it or just looking at him he can and will just start mumbling about how good you make him feel/how you're the only one who makes him feel like this

Kung Lao

(turns on self indulgence beam) ahem taps mic is this thing on??

lao is a praise kink BITCH you understand??? and since he's full of himself he for sure will not shy away from whimpering and groaning loud as hell just to hear his own voice

you give him praise and BOOM suddenly it's upturned eyebrows and beads of tears at the corners of his eyes. he will ask you to repeat what you said over and over

once his pride wears out he's a begging mess like smoke. he's super handsy but in the way where he's acting like you're gonna disappear before he nuts. i cracking up at the thought of that

afterwords "did i do good?" or "was i a good boy?" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHG hey im normal don't give me that look. ALSO PLAY WITH HIS HAIR he's a sucker for it (glad i can say that now he's not bald)(love you mk11 lao i swear)

Kenshi Takahashi

oooo this sensual romantic ass man. sensual romantic ASS man (he likes ass)

he's not a loud guy or it's just rare. his hands aren't gonna go anywhere but your ass though. MAYBE your thighs, but it's always back to ass!

less on whimpering more on grunting but there's occasional cracks in his voice when feels really good. he only full on whimpers if you go fast and gets closer faster from the pace

please for the love of god leave some sort of marks on this man's neck. it drives him CRAZYYYY he'll be cursing like he's never done before especially cause he WILL return the favor

like raiden if you give his face more love especially around his eyes it's up for him you're going to be told how perfect and how good only you can make him feel for the next 72 hours

Johnny Cage

BRAT. he's a brat. Johnny John Carlton Cage is a B R A T

you will have to physically shut him up and that was his mission accomplished. don't let his hands be free either cause he'll keep trying to take control (and keep failing every single time)(again, this was allll part of the plan)

when he's completely helpless at your disposal...bottom bitch alert! whiny whimpering grunting sighing giggling you name it CENTRAL. he the type to whine about being restricted when it was literally his own idea in the first place

he's a praise kink bitch too i mean come on THE johnny cage ik you weren't expecting otherwise. tell him he's a good boy but also call him your bitch oh how he loves it

and by the way... record. everything. he'll watch those tapes back like they're old school vhs memories

Liu Kang

how you got a god to submit to you is beyond anyone's belief. but who cares?! drain that mf (balls)

he absolutely positively loves loves LOVES eye contact. you look him in the eyes long enough it's like your souls are fuckin too (literally that scene with him and titan kitana except you're looking down at him everybodyshutthefuckup)

give him a bunch of kisses pls pls pls he craves it he adores it CARNALLY. very very handsy man there's no part of you that goes untouched.

he's too calm to be loud but he does grunt and will have dragged out moans that result in a higher pitched tone

surprise, even a god could use some praise every now and then!!! he blushes the most whenever you call him perfect or tell him he's doing great even with all that's on his plate on the daily <3

Sub Zero

this stubborn fucker. just pull his hair and give him the same look he gives everybody and he's all yours cause then he'll look like this (i cannot stop referring to this picture)

in the privacy of your shared room (idc if this is ooc this is tumblr god damn it) he's a stuttering mess and cannot keep his hands off your hips and thighs for anything so prepare for those areas to have frostbite

there are times where his hands slide up your back when he's close, and by this time his furrowed brows and sharp gaze are completely gone. he's looking up at you like you've descended just to give him the ride of his life (bc you did obviously)

if he whimpers it's raspy and deep. he generally grunts and groans and a lot of profane language coming from them lips

however comma it's rare he'll shudder and whine like a lil bitch if he can't touch you oooo and he's a bucker too

Scorpion

last but certainly not least this sexy mf. i fully fully believe that he would not hesitate to submit to someone he's in love with (you hahaha)

you don't even need to pull his hair just glide your fingers through it he's set for life. he sighs and just smiles, you're so good to him

he's not very vocal but he certainly whines and has shallower breaths when he's close. when he looks up at you he has to try his hardest not to bust right there cause damnnn you fine as hail

thigh man thigh man thigh man. oh, did i say thigh man? i meant to say HE'S A THIGH MAN. and neck, like kenshi don't even think about getting up off of him without a bunch of marks on his neck and shoulders if ya feelin freekie

if you pull his hair he will cum. and you heard that from me.

ask box is open! <3

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Recs - Month 5 Sept 16 - Oct 15

my all time favourite buddie fic is on this list. can you guess which one? 😂

0-5k

Morning After by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoonTeen | 1k The bed is empty when Buck wakes up.

you’re looking like you fell in love tonight by devirnis / @devirnis Gen | 1.1k Eddie is on top of him, clinging to him like a koala bear, snoring softly into Buck’s collarbone.

Buck’s traitorous heart soars in his chest.

Through The Open Window by inkinmyheartandonthepage / @inkinmyheartandonthepageGen | 2.1k At the reception of Maddie and Chimney wedding, Eddie stumbles across a Buckley sibling moment and overhears something he probably wasn't meant to hear just yet.

and i always will by Maira / @carrierofthepaperclips Mature | 2.3k the one where Eddie answers the wrong phone

The Night Shift by Veronae Teen | 2.3k “I think I’m in love with Eddie.” Heart pounding against his breastbone, Eddie gripped the handrail of the staircase so hard his fingers turned numb. Buck. That was Buck’s voice.

and all of my peaches are ruined for you by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Explicit | 4.1k Buck asks to breed Eddie one morning and, well, Eddie isn't going to say no.

5k-10k

reassure me with your praise by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincessExplict | 5.3k the one where Buck is concerned he might be bad in bed and Eddie has a solution.

hope is a sword by jeeyuns / @jeeyuns Teen | 5.4k “Did it nick the femoral artery?” Eddie mutters to Chim, hands gentle as he cuts through the fabric of Buck’s turnout pants to get a better look. Buck has a glimmer in his tired eyes as Eddie looks up and catches his gaze. He can hear the bright laughter in his mind as Buck relays a dirty joke about getting into his pants with a twitch of his lips and a scrunch of his nose.

Make So Much Smoke it Sparks a Fire by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeelsExplicit | 7.2k Incubi and succubi are not about sex. They're about lust. Desire. The build up. Driving you so insane that sex is all you can think about, all you want, all you need. Pushing you right over the edge.

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon Explicit | 8.5k Buck and Eddie try something out together.

Hot and Heavy by 42hrb Explicit | 9.4k Five times Eddie had casual sex with someone who wasn't Buck and the time they finally got their shit together

10k-20k

baby, you drive me wild by wikiangela / @wikiangela Explicit | 10.9k Buck and Eddie have car sex on the side of the road.

it still beats steady (this heart i handed you for free) by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Mature | 12.8k “Have you seen Eddie?”

Albert looks up at him, frowning. “Did they not tell you?” he asks, wrinkling his brow. He wipes the back of his hand over his forehead, smearing soot and sweat and wet ash like watercolor paint. “He’s on his way to the hospital. Jonah’s with him.”

It’s Not the Roaring Dream, It’s the Silent Lightning by giselleslash / @gigi-gigi Mature | 15.2k the one where Buck is married to Eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go.

20k - 30k

Four Can Keep a Secret by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 20.1k When Ravi and Hen accidentally see Buck and Eddie, who are trying hard to keep their new relationship a secret, in the middle of a romantic moment, they try to make them confess without the rest of the station finding out. Shenanigans ensue.

but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher / @captain-hen Mature | 28.8k eddie confesses his feelings for buck. buck is absolutely, a hundred percent sure that he does not feel the same way.

the universe has different plans.

30k +

Claim Your Ghost by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briarsTeen | 32.k After a near death experience on a call, Eddie starts having strange hallucinations of people who have died. There’s definitely no way he’s seeing ghosts, right? Because Eddie doesn’t believe in ghosts…

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston / @ebjameston Teen | 40.9k The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind.

Even in Winter There is Eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels Explicit | 45.4k Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld.

Pick a Star on the Dark Horizon (Follow the Light) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog / @buddierightsExplicit | 57.4k When Eddie learns that he's getting stationed on the other side of the country, he's faced with a reality where Buck isn't a part of his daily life. Neither of them are prepared for a life without the other. Their solution? To get married.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15)

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k

Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do. 

I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat. 

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one. 

Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.

Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me. 

Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi. 

Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her. 

The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become. 

This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this. 

It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time. 

What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.

And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto. 

Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.

He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out. 

But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him. 

He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.

“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated. 

Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action. 

Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.

“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!” 

—

“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway. 

“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that. 

He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him. 

So you do it again. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.

“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him. 

“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!” 

“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”

Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.” 

Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance. 

You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.

“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.” 

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest. 

“Stay out of my way, then.”  

“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.” 

“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”

—

Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had. 

See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.

Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft. 

In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.  

Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound. 

He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask– 

“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”

On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first. 

“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.” 

Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”

“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”

Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs. 

But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something. 

But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips. 

He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.

“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”

You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.   

“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”

“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”

“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.” 

A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”

“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day. 

Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.

“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“

“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”

“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”

Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win. 

He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking. 

But he’s done it.  

Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second. 

Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell. 

“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”

Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.” 

And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

“Nicole Summers.”

“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”

“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”

“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”

“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”

You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick. 

“How was it?” you press. 

Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”

Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”

“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”  

Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass. 

Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”

“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.

“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping. 

“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.

“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again. 

“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face. 

Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights. 

“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?” 

“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.” 

Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you. 

“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”

That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh. 

“Combination lock, huh?”

“Allegedly.”

“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.” 

Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”

Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”

He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t. 

You’re drunk. 

If you can stay drunk, all bets are off. 

If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk. 

You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan. 

And it would mean nothing. 

And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.

But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat. 

“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”

So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home. 

“Oh, shit!” 

Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.

Trembling.

“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”

Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus. 

He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.

Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–” 

But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other. 

Fuck. He can’t leave you like this. 

You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there. 

“Uh– Lacy?” 

The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door. 

A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you? 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful. 

Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–? 

“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.” 

“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon. 

“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”

But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position. 

“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands. 

What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed. 

“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.” 

It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face. 

“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.” 

–

You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive. 

“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.

You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver. 

“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness. 

Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it. 

“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”

She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy. 

You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that. 

So somebody must have. 

Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile. 

Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet. 

Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.

Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada. 

Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax. 

“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.” 

Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts. 

“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”

“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.” 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare. 

“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”

Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”

“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing. 

“Wayne–”

“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.” 

He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night. 

He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.

–

Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover. 

It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s. 

You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?

Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?

But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life. 

The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess. 

Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day. 

You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.

You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that. 

Regret stabs at you.

“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi. 

“What?”

“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?” 

Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”

“Ugh, thank god.”

“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.” 

You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van. 

“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you. 

“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”

“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”

Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.” 

He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.” 

You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”

“You’re never late for first period.” 

“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?” 

“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.” 

It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would. 

Until now. 

And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him. 

Until now. 

“So?” he says, all expectant. 

And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure. 

The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded. 

But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson? 

Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust. 

You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot. 

As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.  

You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk. 

“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”

You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”

Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum. 

Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand. 

Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body. 

She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park. 

“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…” 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”

“Huh?”

“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”

You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.” 

Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now. 

Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight. 

“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little. 

Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be. 

“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

–

Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine. 

But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap. 

Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die. 

Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.

You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor. 

Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night. 

“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker. 

She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her. 

Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape. 

“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says. 

This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at. 

“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table. 

There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart. 

You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you. 

Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.

“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”

author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats

[herbrattypsht]

Roomate!miguel????? coming into readers room while she’s……. Yk 👀👀👀

LEMME COOK😋

MDNI

Roomate!Miguel x Fem!Reader

Tw: masterbating, squirting, praise and degradation, a little mean miguel, munch miguel, spanking, multiple orgasms

MDNI

You’d just came from cheer practice, feeling frustrated and pent up. But why were you pent up? Because they had the boys football practice as the same time. Which meant you saw your fine ass roommate Miguel, beads of sweat dripping down his nice ass biceps and abs.

You always knew he was fine, even when you saw hime for the first time. Did you dare to say anything to him? Fuck no. Its was already a little frustrating having to hear about how good he was in bed due to the thin walls in your apartment, or when you could hear his whiny moans as he pleasured himself.

You kick off your shoes and head straight for you room, closing the door but being the needy whore you were in that moment you couldn’t give a fuck to lock the door, especially since you though Miguel would just hang out with his teammates after practice like usual.

You stripped yourself of your bra, panties and shorts. Letting out a breathy sigh as your fingers slowly but surely swirled around your puffy clit. Your free hand grabbed your pink dildo out from your nightstand drawer, sliding it through you slick folds, lubing it up with you slick. A whiny moan escaped your mouth as you pressed the toy in, your gummy walls fluttering around it, sucking it in.

You stared off with a good pace, feeling every vein and ridge of the toy, your moans got louder and needier.

‘Why did he look so good?’

All you could think about was him. Miguel. Bucking your hips up to meet your own pace as the more you thought about him the wetter you got, creamy slick dripping forming around the toy. You tried to keep your moans quiet but it felt so good. So good that you didn’t hear Miguel walking through the front door.

To be fair he couldn’t hear you either, his headphones blasting music as he made his way to your door with a bag of food. Your eyes were closed still, as he opened the door and saw the most beautiful sight ever. His cute roommate fucking herself silly.

God he was so hard now.

He knew he should’ve left while he could, he knew..but he didn’t. He slowly closed the door and walked closer, a needy groan left his mouth as he heard you moan his name.

“M-Miguel..fuck..”

“I’ll make you feel good mamas...”

He said, which made your eyes pop open so fast, but you just couldn’t stop. Your low, fucked out expression was doing things to him.

“Tell me you want this..use your words..”

“Please Miguel, M’so close..”

And that was all he needed to here as he pulled the toy out and flipped you onto your stomach, arching your back and eating you out like a starved man. It was so messy and sloppy but so fucking good as you moaned and whined into your pillow. His perfect ass lips wrapped around your clit, from the sounds he was making it sounded like he was enjoying it more than you.

It was so good but so intense. You tried to scoot away but his big hands gripped your waist and tummy and pulled you back again his mouth, his hand coming down on your ass with a hard smack. The stinging sensation making you moan.

“You wanted this so take it, I know you can, you’re the perfect little whore for me..don’t want anyone else Bebe..”

He murmured as his other hand went around to rub you clit, making your moans get louder and whinier.

“Oo shit g-gonna Mmm, gonna cum..”

And you did, as Miguel lapped up every last drop, but he didn’t stop. His mouth kept its assault on your pussy going. You tired to reach back and push him away, but to no avail. He was muchin on you like you were a home cooked meal.

“Gimme one more baby, I know you can do it pretty girl, such a pretty sloppy girl for me..”

His hand applied smacks to your ass, marveling at how it reddened. You were so close you didn’t are moaning like a bitch in heat, you could feel your second orgasm creeping up on you, as you reached back and rubbing your clit, you finally let go…squirting. The rush of liquid and the intense orgasm all together making your legs shake. After helping you through your orgasm, Miguel finally sat up, grabbing a towel with Luke warm water and began to clean you up. He then got you a glass of water and sat your tired body up, making you drink it. He then cuddled up with you and let you sleep, his large body providing heat and comfort. He later kisses your forehead, and dozed off.

Did I do good?🤷🏽‍♀️🤎

[i-cant-sing]

May I request Todoroki family with a reader with a birthmark /port wine stain on their face? I feel like they’d be smothered even further (the reader can also joke about getting free laser surgery cause when that shit happens it smells like burning flesh (a jab at Dani lmao))

Portwine stain used to be my fav topic ever. Like you could ask me anything in pathology and I don't think I'd remember it, but someone even hints at it and ID KNOW WE'RE TALKING ABOUT PORTWINE STAIN cause like the moment I saw pictures of it on patients, I was like "?????? How is the name so ACCURATE????"

So with Todoroki fam, I think their reaction is mostly based on how you feel about your skin. So, if you're like more confident and rip anyone a new one if they try to bully you, they're also gonna treat you very normally (except maybe Rei). But if you're insecure about your face, then they're just gonna baby you to the max as well. Rei is always cooing and going over the top with compliments "aww baby, you're always beautiful in my eyes! You're like a pretty princess! I'm your mother, I would never lie!"

Enji mostly tries to encourage you with few but deep words, something along the lines of "beauty always fades away. It's what on the inside what matters. Make yourself so skillful and abled that you don't allow this to be a barrier between you and opportunities. I'll always support you." And obviously, he'd pay bucks if you want to remove this stain/mark.

Natsuo again, using his few years experience as a medical professional or as a med student will try to comfort you like a psychiatrist and also bring in derma creams and ointments that's ij research phases and not easily accessible to the general population.

Fuyumi again, coddles you but less patronising than Rei. She does want you tell her all about it, whether if someone said something even slightly mean to you, so that she can tattle to Dabi about it and he can "deal" with the person.

Shotou is the most indifferent to it. Like there isn't much difference to how he'd react if you didn't have this mark. He's still as attention deprived as ever and he's still sticking by your side, and maybe deep down, he might even feel closer to you now that you have a portwine stain/birthmark on your face.

Dabi... well, ofcourse his first reaction is to tease you about it, relentlessly. But if youre actually super insecure about your looks, then he's also the one who's super understanding and helpful. Like he finds you crying as you look at yourself in the mirror, he just sighs and walks over before breaking the mirror and engulfing you in a hug. Probes very carefully until you confess to him that someone said something very awful to you.

He comforts you, makes you his signature marshmallow hot chocolate and then pays a visit to said bully and like.... mutilates them very badly, beyond recognition, but still keeps them alive so that they get to live through the agony and dilemma you do on the daily.

[shroomsroom]

Helloo!!

I was wondering if you could do the gang(Separate) with a reader who love photography and they get nervous they accidentally take a picture of them please? If not then it's okay!💗💗

Summary: In which you accidentally take a photo of your greaser boyfriend. Warnings: none Author's Note: i kinda didn’t understand this ask, so if I do something wrong feel free to tell me and ill fix it! (i also dont really understand how vintage cameras work) You were big on photography. Everyone knew you were good at it, so you made a couple hundred bucks per month shooting photos for people. You were out on a walk with your boyfriend when you saw the most gorgeous scenery. Excitedly, you set up your camera and tried to snap a few photos of it when you noticed that your boyfriend was in frame. 

PONYBOY CURTIS You and Pony were walking down past a meadowed area when you saw the sun starting to set. You poked Pony and asked him if you could take a couple of photos, which he of course agreed to. You set your camera up on the tripod and started snapping photos. Only when you developed the photos in your makeshift darkroom did you see it. Pony was standing about ⅓ of the way in the photo, he was looking off into the distance and the sunlight of the sunset framed his face beautifully. “Oh,” You said, bringing the photo up to see it better. “What’s up?” Pony asked, getting up from the corner he had made his own in your darkroom. He looked at the photo in your hands but you hid it before he could see. “C’mon, Y/n show me,” He wrapped his arms around you, trying to grab the photo from you. You held on firmly but not quite enough to match Pony’s strength. He snatched the photo from your fingers and looked at it. He was really quiet, staring at the photo and you mumbled an excuse, “Sorry, didn’t even see you in the frame..” You looked down at your hands but Pony just stared at you. “You kidding? You made me look like some kind of model. Holy shit, Y/n, this is so good!” He exclaimed, looking at the picture again. You looked up, bright-eyed and smiling. “God, can I keep this?!”

JOHNNY CADE Johnny had never really liked to be in your photos. So when you were developing the photos that you took in the lot of the gorgeous moon surrounded by thick trees you were shocked to see that you had let Johnny get into frame. He was looking at you, adoration in his eyes and his hair perfectly shaped his face. He looked gorgeous. So you secretly hung that photo up in your bedroom. One day, you invited Johnny over on a whim, completely forgetting about the photo. When he entered your bedroom, the first thing he saw was your photo. You’d always shown him your photos so that’s what first caught his eye, a photo he hadn’t seen before. When he stepped closer he realised what it was. You tried to get him to stop looking at it by stammering out a silly apology. “I’m sorry! Let’s just forget about this!” You were blushing with embarrassment but he just smiled at you. “You can keep it.” A light coat of pink dusting his cheeks. SODAPOP CURTIS Soda likes photos of him, but the photos he likes are never candid. He like those photos where he's staring directly at the camera, flexing or holding a cigarette in his hand. So when he found a photo of him laying in the grass, the sun hitting his face in the right angle, in your book he was shocked. 

“When di'ja take this?” He asked showing you the photo. You blushed.

“Uh, last week.” You mumbled.

“And you didn't tell me?” you hung your head, ready to apologize.

“I like this. Why don't we take photos like this more often.” He patted your head.your head. STEVE RANDLE You thought Steve working was the cutest thing ever, but Steve only allowed you to take photos of the workshop because he thought he’d look weird if you took a photo of him working. It startled you that when you looked at the pictures after they’d dried, you saw the side of Steve's face as he looked out the window. It was a genuinely beautiful photo, so you put it in your car. You had completely forgotten about it because of your car’s sudden engine failure. You took it to the shop and asked Steve to fix it. When he went inside to check something out, he saw the picture and immediately started laughing. “I told you I’d look silly,” He said, taking the photo from its place and pointing at it. You blushed but shook your head, “I think it’s a very pretty picture,” “Well, I probably won’t burn it then.” TWO BIT MATTHEWS

Two Bit always ruined your photos. He always held a silly face or pose, so much so that you banned him from being in your photos. However, when you pull one of your pictures out and see his silly face looking oblivious to the picture in the corner of the photo you bursted out laughing. Two-Bit, who was sitting in your dark room, got up to see what you were laughing about. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t have enough strength to hold onto the photo to keep him from seeing it. When he took a look at the photo he chuckled too, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your temple. “Are you laughing at me?” He asked, lightheartedly. You laughed harder, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. He tsked and threw the photo onto the ground. “I’ll give you something to laugh about” He joked and started tickling you. DARRY CURTIS Darry’s only photos around the house are of Pony and Soda. It makes you feel sad that he’s not as proud of his achievements, but you still respect him for it. Every picture you have of Darry you cherish. Sometimes they’re accidental photos and you hid them from him, or sometimes he allowed you to take one or two and looked at them closely before allowing you to keep them. So when he stumbled on your stash of photos of him, you nearly fainted. “Oh!...” You put your hand over your mouth when he opened the drawer with your photos in it. “I don’t remember some of these,” He stated, picking them up. “Uh..yeah,” You blushed out of embarrassment but he just smiled at you. “Makes me sad, these are just in the drawer. Why don’t you hang ‘em up?” DALLAS WINSTON Dallas HATED photos. So when your finger accidentally slipped and he caught the flick of your camera when he was in frame, he nearly chased you around town trying to get rid of it. You were crying laughing by the time you made it to your house and he was, lightheartedly, teasing you. “Ok Dal, I’ll cut you a deal. If you like the photo, and you HAVE to be honest, I’ll keep it. If you don’t I’ll toss it.” You held out your hand for him to shake. He made a show of pondering it but shook your hand with a laugh. Once the photo had been developed you took it out to look at it. Dallas looked over your shoulder and huffed. “Do you like it?” He asked. “I think its very pretty.” You said, looking up at him. “Then we can keep it.”