#could not have gotten a guy who knows less about whatever the fuck hes talking about.

[dennisboobs]

jesus christ are the commentaries with dr drew ever fucking painful

[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)

Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 

At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 

It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.

 

Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 

You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 

“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 

“Right,” Eddie replied. 

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 

“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 

“About me shutting up?” 

“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.

 

“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

 

“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 

“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 

You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 

“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 

Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.

“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 

“You what?”

 

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

 

Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.

 

“Can I meet him later?” 

Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 

“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”

 

You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 

“What can I get for you? The regular?” 

You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 

“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”

 

The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 

“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 

“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 

“Say what?”

Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 

“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 

“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 

Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 

“Promise,” Eddie replied. 

Good.

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates!

Part 2 AO3

Steve didn’t hate him exactly.

He was just… vastly irritated by his very presence.

When they’d fallen into being roommates with Eddie, Steve and Robin were just happy to have anywhere to live. 

They’d spent a few weeks living in the ageing BMW after they’d gotten booted by their previous landlord when the rent had spiked again and they couldn’t afford to pay it anymore.

Then Dustin had come to them saying he had a friend that had a spare bedroom that he needed to fill and they had jumped at the chance. 

It wasn’t a terrible apartment, all things considered. 

The bathroom needed a bimonthly mould clean out and the water pressure was nonexistent. It was almost always colder inside than it was outside, no matter how hot the weather got and the front door had clear signs of being broken down before, with a new lock haphazardly slapped over where the old one had been but it was shockingly quiet and secluded. 

A small and unassuming building that people tended to glance over sitting close enough to the city centre so that everything was within walking distance. It was twice the size of the place Steve and Robin had lived before, an open plan kitchen and sitting room with enough room for a dining table creating a barrier between the two. 

A nice dining table too. 

One that could fit more than two people.

Two bedrooms, one bathroom. 

Eddie had apparently wrinkled his nose at the idea of sharing with a couple but Steve and Robin weren’t about to correct him. He was a completely unknown person who seemed to make it his mission to look mean and scary, no matter what Dustin said about him. 

So Steve refused to feel bad about making assumptions.

But the guy was less mean and scary and mostly just annoying.

He left his shit everywhere, like he’d never heard of fucking organisation before. And he was so loud and exuberant all the time. Like yeah, they guy could enjoy his passions or whatever but that didn’t mean Steve had to like being an unwilling participant in it.

When Robin moved out, Steve stayed even though it was clear Eddie would have preferred if he'd gone too. 

He wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate was a lot. 

And he certainly wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate kept dropping hints he wanted his special someone to move in and Steve to move out.

Steve would show Eddie the meaning of stubborn.

They bickered like an old married couple constantly and Steve couldn’t exactly say that he hadn’t risen to the bait or caused his own fair share of problems between the two of them either.

Things had only marginally shifted once Eddie had proudly stuck up a flyer advertising the set list for the Pride Parade After Party that his band had somehow been signed to perform at.

When he caught Steve looking at it one morning he’d levelled him with his smuggest smile, like he’d just won some kind of argument. Like he was just waiting for Steve to go on a homophobic rant and run out of the apartment, never to return.

“Got a problem there, Stevie boy?”

Eddie crossed his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter with a feral look in his eyes, itching for a fight.

Steve had just turned to him with his sharpest, most cutting grin and lifted open the zippered side of his bomber jacket, revealing his bi pride flag patch sewn to the inner pocket.

“No.”

Eddie had glared at the patch like it had personally offended him before storming off to his room with a scowl.

After that, the barbs thrown at each other had gotten a little more… queer.

After one particularly frustrating argument, Steve had snapped at Eddie “I know how to keep a fucking shower drain clean, Mary.” before snatching his keys up and slamming the door behind him.

When Steve had finally seen fit to talk to Eddie again, nearly two full days later, huffing at him to hurry up in the kitchen, he wanted some coffee, Eddie had turned with the most exaggerated face of surprise and his hands thrown up in shock as he proclaimed, “She speaks!”

Steve had rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Jesus, you’re such a queen.”

Eddie had levelled him with his own cutting smile and responded, “That I am, darling.”

After that their arguments were full of a lot more condescending and patronising ‘Mary’s and ‘sweetie’s and ‘oh, honey’s.

It gave Steve the strangest feeling of companionship. Not only with Eddie, loathe as he was to admit it, but also with the culture and with the queers of old who were still around, who’d had to kick and spit and fight just to be seen.

Eddie had been buzzing around the apartment all day. 

It was A Big Date Night™ apparently. 

He was gonna ask the boyfriend to take a road trip with him back to Indiana to meet Wayne, a big step that he’d never made with a partner before.

Steve liked Wayne. But he liked even more how irritated Eddie was that they spoke. Wayne had called the apartment one day looking for his nephew and when Steve answered he heard the sounds of a game in the background and asked about it.

It was over forty five minutes later Steve turned to find Eddie staring at him with a horrified expression on his face and Steve couldn’t help the evil glint in his eye as he continued to debate Wayne on their favourite players.

But Eddie had left hours ago now and it was getting… late.

Really, really late.

Like four in the morning late and he hadn’t come home yet.

He was supposed to, he needed to be up the next morning for his shift at the nerd shop he worked at and he loved that job. He wouldn't miss it for anything.

Steve wasn’t like, worried or anything.

Not that Eddie needed to be babied, he wasn’t one of his kids. 

He was just… looking out for the safety of another human being.

The only light in the dark apartment was coming from the low glow of the tv and it was so quiet there was barely a sound coming from the speaker. Steve was curled up on the couch, swaddled in a throw and his mind kept drifting. 

He couldn’t pay attention to whatever was playing, his brain just kept catastrophising about what the fuck could have happened to make Eddie so late. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin and simultaneously felt his body unclench when he heard a key in the lock and recognised Eddie's wild head of hair coming into the apartment.

But that didn’t last long because Eddie caught the door before it could close with a loud snap like it usually did, shutting it slowly and softly behind him.

It was alarming because Eddie never remembered to close the door quietly, no matter how much Steve bitched at him. And it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, Steve knew that, it’s just that his mind was most often somewhere else, focused on some other thing so that he simply… forgot.

Eddie cursed low to himself as he slumped into the kitchen, pulling the freezer door open and rummaging around for a bit before pulling something out.

He kept his head low, hair spilling out around his face as he jumped up onto the counter and sat. 

He still hadn’t noticed Steve sitting there, watching the whole exchange under the dim flickering light of the television.

It looked like Eddie had snatched up a bag of Steve’s frozen peas. And they were Steve’s. Because Eddie didn’t eat anything green unless it was artificially coloured and covered in sugar.

Eddie squeezed the peas in hand hands, considering, before he muttered to himself, “so fucking stupid” and brought them up to rest on the side of his face.

That kicked Steve into action, unfurling himself from the couch, keeping his throw around his shoulders because it was fucking cold and he padded over to the kitchen in his fluffy socks.

“Eddie?”

Frozen peas scattered, skittling across the tiled floor, landing in the sink, ricocheting off the cupboard doors and clattering off the walls as Eddie jumped violently at the sound of his name, softly spoken as it was. 

He’d snapped his head up and Steve could see, in the dim light of the tv behind him, unusual darkness spreading over Eddie’s face, like a stain on his pale skin.

Eddie tightened his hands again around the now mostly empty bag, looking back down at it. 

“‘M sorry about your peas.” He mumbled.

Steve could only blink in response. 

Eddie wasn’t supposed to mumble. 

He wasn’t supposed to be quiet and subdued and wilted. 

He was supposed to be loud and brash and tawdry and bright.

“I’m gonna turn the light on, okay?” Steve tried to keep any rising panic and worry out of his voice, tried to keep himself calm and level. He could barely just make out the small nod Eddie gave after a beat of hesitation.

The light was harsh and painful after so long spent in mostly darkness and Steve had to squint through his glasses waiting for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he felt his stomach drop.

Eddie's face was scrunched up as he tried to blink through brightness but that wasn’t what caught Steve’s attention. 

Because there was blood crusting on the side of Eddie’s face, settled around his eye and in his hair from a gash over his eyebrow. His lip was split and puffy and swollen and his cheek was slowly blooming from red to purple.

“You should see the other guy.” Eddie grinned with a wince, when he noticed Steve cataloguing, but his eyes stayed distant and sad.

“What…” Steve stepped closer, hovering his hand over the injuries, over his hair. “What happened?”

Eddie shrugged, dipping his eyes back down to the melting bag of peas in his hands. “We had a disagreement.”

Steve looked down too and gently took the peas out of his grip, placing the bag in the sink next to them. 

It was only then that he noticed Eddie’s knuckles were bloodied as well, split and starting to swell.

He had to swallow against the sickening anger coiling in his throat as he closed a gentle hand around Eddie’s cold fingers and he tugged it over to the sink, turning the tap on. 

“Your peas-”

“Fuck the fucking peas, Eddie!” Steve snapped before trying to reel himself back in when Eddie flinched, nearly pulling his hand away but stopping himself at the last moment.

With the softest movements he could manage, Steve got Eddie’s fingers as soapy as he could before slowly working his rings left and right, pulling them off his fingers.

“What are you doing?” It wasn’t quite a whisper but the question was low, almost like a hum.

“Your fingers are going to start to swell soon. I can leave them on if you’d rather have them cut off later?” Steve looked up to see Eddie watching their hands working together under the dribble of the tap. 

He shook his head.

“Well okay then.” He tugged the last ring free and examined them, silver and wet and heavy in his palm. 

There was still some dried blood in the grooves. 

“Did you at least get him good with these?” He gestured to them before placing them carefully to the side and gently towling Eddie’s injured hand dry.

A smirk tugged at the uninjured side of Eddie’s mouth. “You’re damn right I did.”

Steve gave a short sharp nod, placing Eddie’s hand back in his lap. “Good.” 

He moved over to the freezer, pulling out his own cold compress which Eddie hadn’t chosen for some reason and tugging the first aid kit from on top of the fridge.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” He said, trying to keep his voice even and his posture lighthearted as he laid the stuff out next to Eddie’s leg. He pulled their second drawer open and took a clean dish towel out, running it under the tap.

“Why, Stevie? You worried about me?” Eddie tried to grin but it quickly turned into a grimace as Steve pressed the damp cloth against the cut on his eyebrow, his lips turning down.

“Don’t be precious about it, honey. Just tell me. I’ll never stop pestering you until you do.” He pulled the cloth away and started gently brushing it across Eddie’s skin, trying to remove as much of the dried blood as he could.

“Alright, alright, keep your wig on.” Eddie huffed and pulled his mouth into a frown before shrugging again. ”Well I’m single now.”

Steve managed to keep his hands working, only halting for just a second as the words hit him. “Rick did this?”

“Yep.” Eddie said with a pop. “Everything was going good, you know. Standard date stuff, whatever. Then I asked him to come meet Wayne and he looked at me. Said, and I quote; ‘What exactly do you think this is?’”

Eddie snorted and shook his head. 

Steve was forced to pull the cloth away to stop tugging on the broken skin. “Wait so-”

“So apparently I’ve been seeing this whole thing as more serious than it was. Apparently I’ve been putting feelings where there were none. And get this,” he grabbed Steve’s hand, stalling his movements again and forcing him to look into those giant deep brown eyes, “he’s married.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open in an indignant stare. “No.”

“Yeah. I know, right? I’ve been the other woman this whole time.” He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “Just a bit of fun.” He tongued at his split lip. "And it's my problem, my fault that I didn't figure it out, according to him." He shook his head, forcing Steve to retract his hand from around his eye. "The fucker took his wedding band off every time we met, so…"

Rather than grabbing Eddie gently by the chin, which he was really, quite horrifyingly tempted to do, he instead said, "Be a dear and stop moving."

Eddie levelled him with a glare but there wasn't much behind it, it was all performative even as he tutted and started twisting the chain on his jeans around in his fingers. But he stopped moving his head.

"So how did that lead to this?"

Eddie scoffed. "How do you think, Mary? I got mad."

"Well good. You should've been mad. Did you throw the first punch?"

"Technically?" Eddie hummed in consideration. "Yes. But he had his hands on me before that soo…"

Steve froze, he couldn’t help it. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

"In what way?" He kept his voice light but the bright white concern underneath was like a foghorn. 

Eddie shrugged again and turned his head, giving Steve more access to the blood crusted above his ear and into his hairline. 

Then he leaned forward just a little bit more until his forehead was resting against Steve's shoulder.

Steve reached back to pull Eddie's hair out of the way, over the back of his neck so he could clean up his hairline.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, the silence wasn't tense but it wasn't calm either. It was anticipatory. Eddie was building himself up to answer.

"He didn't see a problem with the situation, I mean obviously he didn't see a problem with the situation so he just wanted to… continue, I suppose. We'd been… experimenting with switching before this and he tried to go full dom on me. Kept trying to get me to submit." Eddie's voice had started to shake even though he tried valiantly to keep it down and it made Steve wonder just how long he'd been keeping it down already. 

Steve dropped the cloth off in the sink and brought a hand up, resting it on the back of Eddie's still bent head, making sure not to cage him in, making sure to keep his touches light and gentle but still there if he wanted them.

"I didn't- I didn't want to anymore but he just kept going and I told him he wasn't asking my consent, he was demanding it. He said I had to do what he wanted because he was in charge and that’s how it works-” 

“Eddie, that is not how it works-”

“Yes, thank you, darling. I know that. I told him that wasn't what's done, no matter the dynamics and he was just getting more and more pissed off, like I was ruining his fun and he wouldn’t get off of me so I just… fucking decked him." Eddie laughed, a terrible broken thing. “I thought… I thought we had… it had been so good while… why can’t I have… why does it always have to end like this?”

His voice had become harsher, more defeated as he went on, cracking and pitching along the words until the end. Until a heart wrenching choked off sound was pulled from his throat.

Eddie was weeping softly into Steve’s shoulder and his hands were twitching in his lap, like he wanted to reach out, like he wanted some comfort but didn’t know if he was allowed. 

But he must have decided he didn’t care if he was allowed or not because the next second he’d thrown his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him in tight, sniffling openly and freely into his neck.

Steve took the tiniest of steps closer and wound his arms around Eddie’s middle, bypassing his leather jacket and battle vest, snaking his arms underneath until there was just the threadbare band t-shirt between them.

He ran a hand up and down Eddie’s back as he shook, while Eddie just clutched on tighter.

“Why does it always have to be… why can’t I… why…” a terrible little sob broke out of Eddie’s throat. “Why does no one ever want me the way I want them?”

Steve had to pinch his eyes shut against the pure heartbreak in his voice, coming out halting and thick and so small. 

He just held him tighter, whispering little placating words and small shushes that he felt more in his chest than he did his throat. 

He hesitated for just a moment before placing a light little kiss to the side of Eddie’s head, into his hair. The same kind of kiss he’d give to Robin or one of the kids if they were in the same situation. 

That was all.

“God.” Eddie muttered, pulling back and scrubbing his hands roughly over his eyes and nose, apparently uncaring of his injuries. “Your shirt is fucking disgusting.” He eyed the stains and wet patches and no doubt little traces of blood he’d accidentally left there. “What makes you think that’s an appropriate state to appear in?”

Steve just rolled his eyes, taking the lighthearted jab for what it was, a want to move on, to start snarking again and cracked open the first aid kit. 

“Your face is disgusting.”

“Yeah, well. You’re the one who’s been cleaning me up, sweetheart. So, who’s fault is that?”

He glanced up at the cut over Eddie’s eyebrow. 

“That might need stitches.”

“No stitches, can’t be bothered with stitches.”

“Stitches not punk enough for you?”

Eddie did glare at him for that.

“Don’t even. You know I’m not a punk.”

Steve grinned at him. “No?”

“Steven.”

Even through the heavy talk, Steve relished the sight of the slight smile that had appeared on Eddie’s face and his return to bitchy banter.

“Edward, is there a difference?” Steve shrugged as he fished for supplies in the kit. “Doesn’t seem to be.”

“To you, maybe.” Eddie flicked at a piece of his hair. “God you’re such a… you’re such a jock.”

“Wow,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “let’s add observant to your list of positives.”

“Assho-ow!” Eddie shrieked as Steve pressed a butterfly bandage over the wound.

“You’re a giant pain in my ass.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Eddie growled at him, irritated and snappy, “you perpetual bottom.”

“Excuse you,” Steve snapped back, “I switch it up. I have versatility."

“Uh-huh.”

“But you gotta admit,” Steve flashed his most charming grin, “it’s a lovely bottom.”

Eddie scoffed but there was a red flush starting to creep up his neck. “S’not like I pay much attention to your bottom.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Steve gave a disappointed sigh, “everyone pays attention to my bottom.”

He didn’t get a response, just a bitchy roll of the eyes.

“You gonna call out of work tomorrow?” He dropped the cloth into the sink and crossed his arms as Eddie leaned back on his hands.

“Why? So you can mother hen me all day? No, thank you.”

“Oh sweetie.” Steve regarded him with mock sympathy. “You think you’d be lucky enough to get my mothering?”

“What if I die in my sleep tonight? You’d be inconsolable.”

“Yeah. Simply devastated.” He said as he all but pushed Eddie off the counter and herded him back to his room.

Part 2 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut (I remember you showing interest for this one but I won't tag you again unless you ask! 😘)

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[popponn]

here and there, about him.

summary: is he perfect? no, just like anyone else. but there will always be something about him. (aka a snippets of one of many, many things he will do for you.)

notes: missing lovesick bllk boys trope for a hot minute while doing other stuffs. short and light stuffs to scratch the itch. was about to isagi and nagi, but turns out self control is still a thing for me. warning: none, just minor swearing + fluffs capital f of smitten boys, chigiri is ready to fight for you. reader's gender unspecified.

characters: rin, chigiri, kaiser.

itoshi rin is very, very much very obvious in his favoritism to you. so obvious that both his teammates and his brother told him to tone it down a little bit. of course, rin only scoffs and tells them to mind their own business (actually he said it more as ’fuck off, cretins’, but details). but, really, no one could exactly blame them. this guy could be in an ongoing tirade about how person a is an utterly pathetic soggy wet trash, then you greet him with a smile and he turns into a cold, suave, rich boyfriend on a snowy winter day. drape his jacket on you, hold your hand, and ’let you hug him from behind while discreetly intertwining your finger with his’ type of stuff. it’s a bit disgusting, honestly. and no one wants to start commenting on how he immediately looks in your direction after scoring a goal. also if he buys something, the only one who has the slightest bit of hope of ever receiving anything is his brother here—and that chance is very miniscule on its own since none of them are you. put simply, it’s a bit infuriating, yet undeniably infuriatingly cute in its own way to watch. especially when there is a very high chance you will be the one and only romance this anti-social guy will ever have. everyone in the team supports the two of you, but by gods maybe please do something about him a little bit?

chigiri hyoma will never let anyone hurt you. it’s common knowledge already that he takes no shit from anyone and ever since he has seen you as ‘the one’, he pretty much already thinks of you as an inseparable part of his life already. so, in other words, that means you have gotten yourself a boyfriend who is ready to become a biting guard dog at a moment's notice. someone insults you? tries to physically harm you? oh, baby, hold your boyfriend back because he is also known to get angry real quick. save his reputation and hold himself back from spouting words that would make someone’s ancestors cry or, worse, from beating someone up. this is a speedster athlete trained by ego jinpachi himself—no one could escape unscathed from something like that. but hey, this is someone who naturally turns into a shoujo manga male lead with soft gazes and flowery smiles the moment you put a hand on his cheek. this is, in a way, just another way for him to protect and make sure of your comfort. also, he needs to have an outlet for the less soft part somewhere other than soccer.

michael kaiser is very reliable and observant, despite whatever persona or deflection he will give you even in the ‘official already’ part of your relationship. this guy has a high ego and puts on an air of someone high and mighty, beyond your league. but everyone all knows if you get to the part where he proudly lets you wear his clothes or makes sure you stay pressed to his side during walks, he is down bad. still, for his sake and maybe everyone else’s, let him take care of you and act casually about it. don’t point it out when he suddenly crouches down and ties your untied shoelaces, keep talking as if nothing happened when he puts a hand in the small of your back, and just act as if nothing happened when he gives someone a ferocious glare while making sure you cling unto his arm. don’t praise or, god forbid, swoon at those. it will only make him get flustered and lose his composure or, worse, get real annoying. he is indeed good at the whole act of service thing, surprisingly, but please do remember his attitude is indeed also in the ‘piece of shit’ category most of the time. just let the yellow and blue betta fish swim at his own pace and let what means to happen in the future, happen at its own time, including giving praises to him without him reacting like a lovesick brat.

[hyewka]

Ranaaa sub!jjunie content is so dry plis make a drabble with it tooo :(

warning: free use, degradation, misogyny, brat taming, sub!yeonjun, asshole!yeonjun, oppa use but its once 😭younger reader

perfect timing because all i can have brainrot over is taming bratty yeonjun like i love obedient subs but jesus christ imagine having an egotistical pompous asshole grovel at your feet.

an au where hes your older brothers best friend whos always been in your life, constantly berating and making unfunny jabs at you in front of your brothers friend group since highschool; you thought oh well, you wouldn’t have to put up with it any longer once they graduate. to your demise, your brother and yeonjun get closer. they even choose to go to the same exact college. then, your brother lets you move in with him with no worry of paying overpriced rent. it feels like a gift from heaven until you come to dooming realization everythings going too well, too good to be true. the nagging instinct proves to be true as not only does yeonjun visit the apartment every day, he even sleeps over at times. its hell.

because now instead of making dumb teenage jokes about girls like he used to, hes turned into some weirdly overprotective guardian. making snarky comments on what you’re wearing whenever you go out, or giving you a scolding about how men “really” are for the tenth time and how oh youre so naive, you’re perfect prey for the kinds of guys in the “real world”. he talks your ear off, and when he gives that up he moves to belittle you and berate. its all hes good at. leech.

its no surprise seeing yeonjun on the couch again, you cant even kick him out because your brother pays like 80% of the rent—thats the con of paying less. you can’t fully treat this apartment like your place.

you also aren’t surprised when he catches you, eyes narrowing as they look you up and down. he sighs. you ignore it, putting on your heels.

“are you really going out like that?”

just ignore.

“i keep telling you its not safe to wear stuff like this but you don’t listen.”

ignore him.

“you know there are men out there who—hey, are you even listening?”

ignore.

“hey!” he yells, straightening up. you give him a glare this time, fool. you see the beer cans laying around everywhere. he’s a fool. good for nothing, a pretty face wasted on a fucked personality. he slumps back against the couch, tsking. “forget it. i’m just looking out for you while your brother can’t but okay, whatever, dress like a whore all you want. just don’t expect to be treated with-”

the rooms silent. all you feel is the burning numb feeling on your palm and rage snuffed the moment your hand landed across his face. you slapped him so hard, when he looks at you with wide wet eyes and a split lip, you let out a dry laugh. you feel everything rush back to you. all those humiliating memories. “seriously, who do you think you are? you’ve berated me those two years, embarrassed me, treated me like shit in front of people, and now you want to act like some fuckass parent?”

he flounders, you see the fear and confusion in his eyes, the way his lips part to say something only to come out with nothing. you grab his face, gripping it hard. “slut shaming me for what i wear? in this year? god, you must really not have a conscience.”

“i’m not slut shaming you! i’m just protecting-”

“protecting me? is that what you wanted to say? really?” you sneer, putting your knee between his legs, “what are you protecting me from? guys like you? perverted, sleazy, good for nothings?”

his cheeks are deep shade of red, it could be from how rough you’re gripping his face, or how hard you slapped him earlier or it’s him blushing. all those possibilities are amusing to you—you like it in fact. he’s stammering, shaking his head, trying to pull your hand off him. but he fails, which visibly gets him even more haughty and embarrassed. poor guy, he looks like he’s about to sob.

“what the fuck has gotten into you!? you’re speaking to me informally like i’m not your-"

“senior? oppa?” you push your thumb past his lips, and he panics again but you make sure to press on his tongue particularly hard. “you’re not any of those things, stupid mutt.”

you’ve always fantasized about being on top, someone taking charge of one whos always under your control, reacting to every touch or twist, you just didn’t expect to be in a predicament where yeonjun’s the one you’re feeling the burning desire to ruin. all of him, you want to ruin him.

seeing as how his eyes have welled up enough tears that they could spill any moment, it didn’t look too hard. “gosh, with the way you parade around, i’d think you wouldn’t be so easy to break.” you laugh coldly.

“y-you didn’t break me, fucking bitch. i’ll tell your brother-" he sounds like an actual fool talking, you could barely make out what hes saying, but lucky for him you caught on to the gist.

“no, you’re seriously a sleazebag. you go on and on about how men really are, warning me about this and that, but right now you could easily manhandle and overpower me, but you just sit here. and fuck, you pop a boner at me being slightly mean to you? tell me, was it the dress that you’re telling me not to wear out? calling you a stupid mutt? my leg? or god forbid, the slap?” you smirk at seeing his eyes widen looking down, they might really pop. did he really not know he got hard?

“pervert. you really were just warning me about guys like you... perverts.”

you shove two fingers in his mouth, simultaneously choking him and shutting him up, serves him right. “i bet you’ve jerked off this pathetic dick of yours to the thought of me. is that why you feel the need to berate me? to cover for your guilty conscience? stupid mutt.” you’ve having too much fun with this, seeing him not fight back, just sitting there taking it, letting his tears drip down. choi yeonjun…a crybaby. who would’ve thought.

you don’t mean for it to go any further, its just a little scare to get him off your back, a little grinding against his clothed hard on, just a little to have him elicit a whiny moan, just a little to have his senses overwhelmed—a little to have him humiliated with spilling his slimy seed in his pants so quick, sticky cum staining his boxers. leaving him there on the couch, overstimulated and pathetic, breathless, with an arm draped over his face, while you go out to the party you’re a bit too late for.

no jackets to appease him, no change of clothes, it felt freeing. you should do this more often.

then imagine smothering your cunt on his face, pinning the stupid asshole down just frustrated out of your mind and using him to have him shut the fuck up for once. his incessant whining and squirming under you dies down..eventually. then he stops pretending to not like it anymore, and you hear the squelching. he’s jacking off. he’s been so annoying and you’ve been sexually frustrated for the past week— getting a scolding from your professor today was the final straw. luckily for you, yeonjun said something to piss you off again.

he hasn’t stopped since that day, actually you figure him being an asshole only got worse after that incident. he’s more mean, despite humiliating him over and over again. you even positioned him to bend over your lap when your brother was out, spanking him until he shook, cheeks beet red. no matter how much you humiliate and berate him, it doesnt deter him, he only becomes worse outside of sex. “god, you’re super fucking annoying, you know that?” you groan, sliding your cunt back and forth his face, gripping his hair.

you can’t be mad for long when he’s making an effort to actually make you feel good, eagerly opening his mouth, lewd eyes looking up at you through his wet lashes as he eats you out—you find it cute almost. you dispel the thought, and decide to look elsewhere other than his face to keep your mind off. this is for your pleasure, not his, focus on that high building up.

its a weird relationship, you and yeonjun. he lets you use him however you like despite his complaining, he says he doesn’t want it, then he purposefully riles you up—you know that because every time he does it and you take his bait successfully, you find he isn’t in any underwear. bastard.

“stop jerking off freak.” you grit, shutting your eyes as you get sloppier and quicker, so …close. you can hear he followed your demand, the only sound being your desperate grinding. then you feel his whine, it sends some vibration, like he’s really a mutt begging for you to look at him. you ignore it, you’re good at that. but then he turns his head to your thigh, biting the flesh and you jolt. this indecent brat! you take two fistfuls of his stupid dyed hair, and move just a little more. a little more, and you cum all over his face.

minutes go by after you orgasmed and you’re on your back, on your bed, kicking him out with the lower half of his face glistening, wet with your cum. “leave.” you regard him coldly and he rolls his eyes, frowning, wordlessly shutting your door aggressively. a smile slowly spreads across your face as the realization sets in; he’s probably mad you blue balled him. serves choi yeoniun right.

this is definitely some much needed therapeutic healing.

[diazisms]

k but rewatching 2x01 and it's gotta be Buck's pov of ugh, this new guy who's all handsome and perfect or whatever

Be curious about Eddie's pov bc I feel like it would be 70% Panic like omg pls don't mess this up and also 30% Gay Panic like why doesn't the pretty guy like me :(

(fair warning, this may have spiraled past 2x01......a lot. bear with me.)

i don't think we've ever gotten eddie's pov the way we've gotten buck's (2x01 and 7x04 for example) HOWEVER i do think we more or less know who buck is from eddie's pov through his actions.

which, considering their characters, tracks so hard.

buck didn't realize he was queer until a man quite literally kissed him on the mouth. seeing eddie from buck's pov is safe because buck has no idea what his feelings are. we watched buck's complicated feelings of jealousy towards eddie unfold TWICE and neither time did he realize what the feelings actually were (physical attraction and y'know. being in love with the guy). buck's pov is one we're allowed to see through as the audience, because it's not actually gonna tell us much, seeing as buck hasn't realized anything.

eddie, though?

reservoir of catholic guilt eddie? the guy who had panic attacks about the idea of being married to his girlfriend? the same man who was diagnosed repressed by a cardiologist?

he knows. he knows and he's been pushing it down since he and buck met, and if we were to ever see buck through eddie's eyes it'd give away everything. the eddie we've seen through buck's pov is just. pure golden sunshine, laughter, love, and buck's best friend in the whole fucking world. buck's best friend that he's in love with, sure, but buck hasn't put those dots together yet, so we, as the audience, won't see that.

buck, to eddie, is home. is family and warmth and comfort. and, obviously, eddie is the same to buck, but eddie knows this. eddie is fully and completely aware of who buck is to him, he's just shoving it all the way down. eddie gave buck a place to land ("it's eddie's house, i'm not really a guest"), eddie trusts buck wish christopher more than he trusts his parents with christopher (ramon and helena saying to eddie 'don't drag him down with you' and him leaving for LA -> eddie saying to buck 'there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you' after the tsunami), eddie let buck in when he was at his absolute lowest.

and, you know.

the will.

we've talked about it a half dozen million times in this fandom but we're gonna talk about it again because it's brain melting. we've never seen buck through eddie's eyes but we've seen exactly who he is to eddie through his actions. eddie trusts buck. eddie needs buck to know he has a reason to stay, that eddie and chris are his reasons to stay. eddie told buck flat out that his life means something. that buck thinks he's not worth anything but he's wrong because he means everything to eddie. eddie loves him.

eddie loved him when he held his hand when buck got pinned under a firetruck and eddie loved him when he dropped chris off before the tsunami and he still loved him when the water went back to the sea and eddie loved him when buck sued the city because the worst part of the whole lawsuit was how much he fucking missed him and eddie loved him when he was trapped under a well and all he could think about was his son and how, if he goes too soon, christopher deserves to be with someone who will love him the way eddie does and eddie loved him when he thought buck was the last thing he was ever gonna see, bleeding out on the streets of los angeles and eddie loved him when he told buck in the only way he knew how to (because, evan) and eddie loved him through panic attacks and mental breakdowns and lightning strikes and new girlfriends and a broken ankle and a new boyfriend because there is no version of eddie diaz that isn't in love with evan buckley.

and eddie knows that.

which is why we don't see it.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Don't cha wanna dance?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: T

CW: Vague boner references again

Tags: No UD AU; dancer Steve Harrington; good neighbor Eddie Munson; Flirting; Sexual tension

Notes: Continued from day 22. This is for @sourw0lfs and @wormdebut specifically, who very gently bullied talked me into writing more dancer!Steve. 🩰

Eddie has never understood new year's resolutions. He believes that, if he wanted to change something about himself, he could do it any time. Like quit smoking. Or stop biting his nails. Or be less of a goddamn push-over. 

Okay, so maybe the latter is something he should really, really work on, ‘cause it's gotten him into a whole shitload of unfortunate situations lately. As if chauffeuring Max to her stupid ballet classes wasn't enough. Now he's also helping out at the dancing school’s annual Christmas recital, because he's just such a nice guy, apparently.

While he tries to arrange the lopsided folding chairs into something resembling a neat line, he struggles to remember when he agreed to this shit. For the life of him, he can't recall. His brain was probably flat-lining when Max asked him, as it tends to do around a certain very hot dance teacher and his muscles and his tights and-

“Looking good!” 

He whips his head up. Steve is standing a few paces away. The tights are a pale pink today. Jesus Christ. 

“You too,” Eddie blurts. Steve's eyebrow arches and shit, he wasn't talking about Eddie, was he? “I mean, thanks, I … ow, son of a-”

“Oh, shit!” Steve is next to him in an instant, freeing his hand from the maws of the folding chair. Eddie swears, sucks his throbbing thumb into his mouth. “Sorry, these things are ancient. You need an ice pack? I've got some-” 

“‘m good,” Eddie says. Tries to go for suave. Fails because he's still got his own thumb up his mouth like a fucking two-year-old. “Had worse.” 

Steve’s face is a mask of doubt, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Anyhow,” he smiles instead, putting the offending chair in line with the rest. “I just wanted to say thanks again. You're probably busy enough around the holidays, but Max insisted you'd be happy to help.” 

“I'm not,” Eddie says. Pauses. Grabs a strand of hair to hide behind. “Busy, I mean. I am happy to help, so … don't sweat it, or whatever.” 

A heartbeat passes in awkward silence. 

“So, what's with the, um …” Eddie says. Watches how Steve tilts his head at him, hair swooshing with the motion. Briefly considers stuffing his thumb back in his mouth to shut himself up. “... with the y’know. The getup.” 

Something flashes across Steve’s face, something dangerously akin to hurt. 

“What?” he asks, doing a hesitant three-sixty. “Something wrong with it?” 

Screw the thumb, Eddie thinks. He needs to find a way to fit his entire hand in there. And Steve, for what it’s worth, needs to stop twirling, or they're about to have a massive fucking problem.

“It’s fine!” he says. Maybe a bit too fast, because he thinks Steve’s mouth curls into a smug smile. “I just mean, um … you’re not … dancing today, are you?” 

Is he? Oh dear God, please no. The place is gonna be swarming with proud parents and relatives, Eddie is not ready for the inevitable consequences of Steve in his pink tights on that stage. Not in the skinny jeans he had to wear today, stupid fucking moron that he is. 

“Huh? No, tonight is all about the girls,” Steve says. Eddie is so busy sighing in relief and nodding that he doesn’t catch the next words.

“Sorry, what?” 

“That other recital I was talking about earlier? You coming to that, too?” Steve repeats, and fuck, what other recital? Eddie really needs to work on his listening skills. If he actually listened instead of staring at the guy like a catatonic caveman every so often, he might be able to maintain a halfway intelligent conversation. 

He’d also probably know why Steve is suddenly coming closer. Eddie tries to take a frantic step backwards and almost crashes into the folding chairs. 

“Oh, erm …,” he stammers. “When was it again?” 

Stever reaches up to run a hand through his hair, boyish and bashful. 

“Um, New Year's Eve,” he says apologetically. “I totally understand if you already have plans, it's just… There's a little get-together after the show, too, with drinks and snacks, and I thought-”

“Sure, I'll be there,” Eddie says. 

See, what did he say? Total push-over. 

The thing is, with the way Steve’s eyes light up, he can't really find it in himself to regret it. 

*

“Ew, what happened to your finger?” Max looks about as disgusted as she sounds. Which is probably fair, because Eddie’s thumb has turned a vibrant purple. 

“These little babies did,” Eddie gestures offhandedly at the chairs they're stacking against the wall. “So be careful.” 

“Were you staring at Steve again?” 

“Fuck off, I wasn't.” 

She pushes the hair that has come loose from its bun out of her eyes so she can give him a deadpan stare. Eddie glowers right back. 

“And even if I was, what's it to you? You can be glad I keep showing up to these gigs. Today, on New Year's Eve, it's really getting-” 

“What are you on about?” Her entire face scrunches up in confusion. “There's no recital on-” 

“Oh no?” Eddie pulls the flier Steve gave him from his pocket and pushes it into her chest. “Then what's this?” 

“That's not our school, dumbass. Check the address.” 

She studies it for a second.

“Huh? What d'you…?” Eddie is already squinting at the letters again. Sure enough, the address doesn't match the one he's been driving Max to. Instead, it's somewhere downtown. “What?” 

“That's the studio Steve goes to,” Max has already returned to stacking chairs. “Super fancy place. He used to be a pro, y’know? Before he tore that muscle?” 

When Eddie doesn’t reply, she tugs the flier from his limp fingers, folds it neatly and puts it into his jacket pocket. 

“Happy new year, doofus. Better wear bulky pants.” 

All my holiday drabbles

[bueckerrss]

softcore

pairing: Chris sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of drugs, wounds, drowning, cursing, and more.

word count:1146

recommended songs: bittersweet tragedy by Melanie Martinez, softcore by the neighbourhood, and reflections by the neighbourhood.

theyre 18/19 in this story.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

“My muse” that is what he called her and she loved it, she would get him through his darkest times. Their relationship was the most beautiful thing in the world, if people saw them walking down the street they knew that they were deeply in love just by how they looked at each other. but what people didn’t know is how their relationship was behind closed doors, not everything was sunshine and rainbows.

Two months and three days. That's the amount of time he had been distant. And it was driving her crazy, she wanted her boyfriend back. She felt the relationship slipping away but she was determined to make it survive. Even if it's the last thing she does. She didn’t know the reason as to why he was being so distant. The things he had gotten himself into that she wasn’t capable of knowing about.

“What do you mean you can't make it tonight? Chris, we’ve had this planned for weeks now. Could you possibly cancel on them?” she asked, “baby, as much as I want to you know I can’t.” he replied with a frustrated sigh “yea, whatever, it doesn’t matter do whatever you want.” she said “babe, don’t-” he was cut off by the sound of the call hanging up.

He sighed at the memory, it had been a week since that argument. He knew he had to go talk to her about the way he was acting but he didn't have time to do so, he had to be on that boat in less than twenty minutes. He decided to just say fuck it and head to the yacht, he could make it up to her later.

What he didn’t know is that y/n was right behind him following his every step. as he stepped on the dock getting into the yacht y/n several steps behind him. once she got on she hid behind a pair of stacked boxes.

“I’m done doing these deliveries for you ash, it’s becoming too much for me” he told the older man as he shifted uncomfortably “now, why would you decide to come to this trip if you were just going to quit?” the man spoke, rubbing his face in frustration “i have personal matters to take care of and this job is pulling me away from” he stopped when his eyes met hers.

-

her eyes widened as she realized that he saw her, she quickly ducked behind the boxes trying not to make too much noise. “who is this guy” “what does chris have to do with him?” she thought trying to stay as quiet as possible. as she slowly backed away she accidentally ran into a box knocking it over making it fall with a huge bang.

The sound of the box falling made the two talking guys look the way the sound came from. Shifting uncomfortably at the two pairs of eyes that were on her “this isn’t the bathroom..” she awkwardly giggled before trying to run away.

Before y/n could get far enough a big hand grab her hair and pull her back to be face to face with him, “do you know who she is?” asked ash as he pointed his gun to y/ns head. Chris hesitated as he bit the inside of his cheek in nervousness, fear crosses his eyes before replying: “no.” but ash knew chris like the back of his hand, he knew chris was lying “well then since you don’t know who she is and she was clearly spying on us, you know what I have to do right?” asked ash making eye contact with chris an evil glint in his eyes.

Chris slowly nodded his head, biting his cheek again before chris could utter another word ash pointed his gun at y/n and shot her. The power from the gunshot pushed her back causing her to stubble into the water. “Y/N!” screamed chris as he launched forward trying to stop her, but before he could reach her ash got in the way.

“I thought you didn’t know her, lying is bad christopher, and you know what i do to liars” spoke ash as he got closer to chris. chris quickly pushed through him diving into the water for his lover.

the deeper he dived the deeper he felt he was going to lose her, he should’ve known since the beginning that this would happen. but he wasn’t thinking straight, he got consumed by the thrill of the drug dealer world and how nothing could ever happen to him again.

he finally reached her arm pulling her up with him, once they reached the surface swimming to the dock. chris started coughing from all the water that he had accidentally swallowed as he reached upwards to get to the surface “please don’t be dead” “please don’t be dead” chris kept repeating as he laid y/n down on the wooden deck.

tears streaming down his face as he did cpr on her, he looked around for at least a person to help him. he didn't know what to do but he did know one thing; he couldn’t lose her. not today, not tomorrow, never.

-

that night he stayed up thinking, he knew it was a dangerous thing what he did and he knew he couldn’t keep her around anymore. he loved her way too much to see her get hurt or worse killed.

he knew he had to do the right thing, that being he had to break up with her, even if it hurt him. he couldn’t see her suffering from his mistakes.

the next day he went to visit her in the hospital, flowers in his hands eyes bloodshot red from crying all night long. but when he saw her, it took everything in him to not break down in front of her.

“babe, hi i wasn’t expecting to see you so early” said y/n a smile on her face as her eyes met her boyfriends, “baby? are you alright?” she said softly the smile slowly fading away.

he just shook his head “i’m sorry” he said his voice breaking he looked up to keep the tears from falling “but you know I can't involve you in this and the fact I obviously can't protect you the way I want to. this isn't safe, y/n.” he said looking at her tears streaming down his face “c-chris what are you talking about?” she said worried.

“i’m just saying i can’t do this anymore y/n it’s not good for us. what i do is clearly dangerous and i don’t want you near any of it. so to keep you safe, im ending it here” he said biting the inside of his cheek before leaving the room. “i love you.” he whispered once the door closed behind him.

————————————————————————

this was written when i was running on a few hours of sleep, then no sleep and then when i was tired so sorry if its bad ☹️ when i have the time and motivation i promise to make this better 😭.

tags: @bernardsbendystraws @patscorner @lexisecretaccx @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloblogs @sturniol0s @raysmayhem-72 @endereies @breeloveschris

[toxictigertonic]

Three count em THREE whole people said they liked my headcanons and wanted more so I'm back with more, this time for how they sleep bc I think it's funny.

COYLE

- Like a damn ROCK.

- But also, extremely vigilant at the same time.

- You could pick him up, shake him, scream in his face, he sleeps. Door cracks open a little? Floorboard creaks? He's up and ready for a fight.

- I really hope he'd sleep in boxers but he strikes me as a butt ass naked kinda guy. Enter his room at your own peril he WILL fight naked.

- Sleeps with his arms to his side, stiff as a board. Dead center of the bed though so good luck if you're looking to share with him.

- Sleeps like that partly bc of military and partly bc if he sleeps on his side he drools.

- Snores like a fucking lawn mower. Has woken people up from a sound sleep bc of it. People are holding grudges.

- The sunglasses and hat stay ON.

- No blankets, no sheets. You can guess how awful this is with the whole sleeping naked thing.

- Sleep walker. Again, awful when you remember that he's nakey.

- One pillow. There is a perfectly head shaped dent in it from his bald ass dome.

GOOSEBERRY

- How many pillows can you fit on a bed? Okay now double it.

- Her bed has the comfiest blankets and the biggest quilt ever.

- Futterman gets his own pillow, so she sleeps on her back with one arm up on the pillow and the other resting on her stomach.

- This is because if he doesn't have his own pillow he'll complain. Also he'll get lost in the mess of blankets.

- She still does the Futterman voice in her sleep. Futterman talks in his sleep. Futterman does not say nice things in his sleep.

- She also talks in her sleep but she's talking about making sure the children are safe or that her pie needs to come out of the oven while Futterman says things about dental hygiene (and how you'll be taught about it whether you like it or not)

- The ONLY one of the prime assets that brushes her teeth before bed. Doesn't wash her face though.

- If she didn't have Futterman to worry about she'd be a side sleeper, pillow tucked under her head and blanket tucked up under her chin.

- She'd have one stuffed animal me thinks. I'd say it's the duck but that feels too simple. How about a mmm ratty old cat.

- Wakes up with the blankets off of her everytime. She doesn't know how it happens but it does.

- Wears the cutest pajama set ever. Futterman deserves pajamas too.

- Sleepytime tea connoisseur. Chamomile with cinnamon and honey every night.

FRANCO

- Again, God help us where do I begin.

- He is my little skrunkly so I say this all with love. Maybe. Potentially. Maybe a little hate.

- Would absolutely spend the money to get an adult sized crib to sleep in. Maybe Murkoff got him one just to make him a little less of a brat (affectionate).

- Sooooo many stuffed animals. So many. From classic stuffies to weird stuffed animals you never would've thought existed.

- He cuddles with the same one every night though, without fail. According to character ai it's a pink elephant so I'm going with that.

- I feel like he'd have a special pajama set for each weekday. Or he'd wear whatever the hell he was wearing during the day to bed. Not sure which.

- If he doesn't have the binky he'll resort to thumb sucking, he won't sleep if he can't have one or the other.

- Also needs sound to sleep, a silent room makes him antsy. Typically has cartoons going.

- (Sad one for those of you who like angst) Dreams about what life could've been like if he had a happy family. Wakes up in tears every time.

- (Cute one to apologize for that) He's clingy as all hell. If someone were to sleep in the same bed as him they'd become his human teddy bear. Good luck getting up this mother fucker has Grip and is so starved for positive attention.

- He wakes up groggy as hell. Give him 30 minutes after he's gotten up bc before then he barely remembers where he is.

- Kicks in his sleep. And they're not gentle kicks either that little bastard is MEAN.

- Drools, sorry not sorry.

- If you pet his head he'll be out like a light :)

Let me know if there are any specific headcanons you'd like to hear out of my noggin because I promise I have plenty. I can talk about these freaks alllll day.

[thegainingdesk]

The Spider to the Fly

Statement of Oliver Barrett, dated 22/05/2023

The rent should have been the first red flag, I know that, but fuck me, have you seen the rents in Dublin these days? Worst than fucking London, if you can believe it. And there's this guy, right, four-story townhouse, twenty minute walk from my new job, says he just wants a tenant to make this place feel less empty, all for a grand a month, bills included. In this market! Too fucking right I didn't question it.

Well, I say a grand a month. One thousand euro and one cent, to be exact. The cent didn't bother me at the time, why the fuck would it? The man wants to add a cent to the rent, I'll give him a cent. Maybe it was to get over some threshold for something, or some tax dodge, or whatever, I didn't know and I didn't care. It was still €999.99 less than I'd be paying anywhere else in Dublin for some damn sight nicer digs. Now though, knowing what I know, after everything that… well, anyway, it bothers me more now. It feels significant. Like those old penny rents you hear about, or something. Something symbolic, and old.

But anyway, there was a cheap room going, in a good location, a good house, it was bloody better than anywhere else I've come across, and I was only in Dublin for a weekend before I properly moved to get everything sorted, so I didn't ask too many questions. So I go to this house, and it was gorgeous. We're talking Edwardian or Georgian or, I don't know, fancy. Some Upstairs Downstairs shit, like there were servants quarters and a coal cellar and whatever a scullery is. I didn't really think about it at the time - again, I'm not really in a position to ask questions - but you usually see houses like that in a row, right? Like terraced? This one was just there. On its own. On a nice street, don't get me wrong, but it was taller than any of the other houses, set back a little, and the style's all wrong. Maybe I thought the rest of the street had gotten destroyed in the Blitz or whatever they had in Dublin, it's not like I know anything about history outside of naming a couple of Henry the eighth's wives.

So I walked up to this great big, not quite right house, and I pulled this rope by the door and it fucking clanged. This wasn't some little ding dong electric doorbell, this was some fucking machinery. It felt like the house was vibrating from it. And while I'm reeling, this Victorian era sonic torture device still going off in my ears, the door swung open, too fast really, faster than you'd expect someone to get to the door, even if they were by it.

I don't know who I was expecting but this guy was hot. Like, something else. I'm talking movie star hot. Fuck, maybe he was a movie star, there's so many movies these days, right? He could have an Oscar for all I know, maybe that's how he could afford the house. I'm looking up at him, checking him out, and I don't have to look up at many people but this guy is real fucking tall, six-six maybe? And rail thin, but in a way that he makes work, he wasn't gaunt or anything just… angular. He had this jet black hair and his eyes were somehow even darker - at the time I probably would have said they were like ink or the night sky or something sappy, but looking back all I can think of is how shark's eyes look. I don't know, maybe that's just me projecting stuff after… well you know, after what happened. And he's just stood there, completely still, but, fuck, I really don't know if I can explain how fucking still this guy was. And that's not me looking back after the fact, at the time I was a bit creeped out. It was like looking at an optical illusion or something, like my eyes couldn't put together this guy that I'd just seen open a door in double-speed with how fucking still he was now. It was like someone had pasted a photo into the middle of my vision. And even though he was so fucking still, there was this, I don't know, this tension to him, like I could just see some energy there, ready to… fuck, I don't know, pounce. Like a tiger or… well, like a… but that's for later I guess.

Anyway, I'm checking this guy out, because he was sort of giving me the creeps, sure, but he was also fucking hot, and suddenly he wasn't so still anymore, and he’s looking me up and down and he's smiling and I'm starting to feel like this guy's checking me out right back. I don't know if you're gay, but there's this look, right, every gay guy knows it, this discrete little up and down, maybe with a little smirk and it just says, you know, "I'm gay, you're gay, let's fuck sometime". Now, I've had my share of guys in the past, I'm not about to be humble about it, I know that I'm hot myself, or, well I guess, you know, back then… but you know, I really was a great looking guy. Square fucking jaw, little dimple right in the middle of my chin, real broad shoulders, you know, I've always played rugby, and you could tell, because I had some decent fucking muscle on me, still do, probably, somewhere under all this fucking… whatever. The point is that I've had guys lining up for a chance to bounce on my dick, so I wasn't exactly shocked when guys checked me out but this guy, I mean, he was out of my league, you know? Out of everyone's league. It's insane to think guys that look like that would check anyone out.

So I was feeling sort of cocky, like maybe I could get more than a room out of this deal. And I know, don't shit where you eat, and definitely don't fuck your landlord, but fuck me this guy was hot, right? I couldn't pass up on this. And everyone in the fucking city's probably going for the room, it's not like I was likely to get it anyway, not with an advert that attractive. Sorry, what's that? Where did I see the advert? No, sorry, I can't quite… No, no, I don't think it was on a website, maybe a… Listen, I don't fucking remember, okay?

Anyway, so this guy smiled and he stepped back, and with his long legs he was all of a sudden right back in the shadows, and he let me in and the door closed behind me and all of a sudden it's just so dark. And I sort of stumbled around and I hear his voice, somewhere off down the corridor, and he said, and I remember this, because it's the first time I heard his voice, all soft and whispery, like I'm imagining it more than I'm hearing it, and there's this light, coming down the corridor from some door, but it's not like the hallway gets any brighter, it's just this beam of light for me to walk to. And he said, right, he says "Why don't you come into the parlour?" I remember that, exactly, because who the fuck says parlour, but it's in my head too, like it echoes in there. Anyway, so I walk towards this light, but it feels, I don't know, like I'm pushing through something, like- fuck, sorry, can we stop for a minute, I just need-

[Archivist's note: the recording was paused here at the subject's request. The subject was provided with a cup of tea and a member of the museum staff brought some food. After around five minutes, the subject was happy to continue the interview.]

Sorry, it's just, that's sort of where it feels like it all started. Walking through that hallway towards that voice and that light and that… that parlour. I'm not sure I really even remember what happened next. We spoke, for a while, the house rules and stuff I guess, when rent was due. I don't even remember agreeing to taking the room, it was just assumed. He certainly didn't give me a tour. He didn't even tell me his name, I don't think, not then anyway.

The next thing I knew I was back blinking in bright daylight, disorientated to be out of the dark and out of the warm, heady air of my new home. I flew back to London the next day, and spent the next few weeks preparing for my move. I received a contract in the post and found out my landlord's name - Damhán Alla. The contract was short, and was lacking a lot of the details I was expecting - nothing about a deposit, no bank details to transfer money to, none of the usual stuff. And what was there was odd - the contract was for one year and one day, no naked flames, the basement was out of bounds, I wasn't allowed to use certain spices or cleaning products, and I specifically wasn't allowed to do the hoovering myself. But like I said, if he wanted to run a tax dodge or whatever it was by renting me a cheap room, and if he was a little particular about his cleaning, or he's got some allergies, I was happy to help him out.

I turned up with all my worldly possessions in a few bulky bags - I'd either sold a lot of my stuff or sent it to my parents for storage, there was no realistic way I could haul much of anything to Ireland. My new landlord opened the door and was once again eye-achingly still for a moment or two, and then suddenly he's all charm, welcoming me in, taking my bags from me once I'm over the threshold, asking me how the journey was, if I wanted something to eat or drink.

I stuck my hand out. "It's Damhán, right?" I said. "I don't think we actually exchanged names last time." Thinking back, I don't even know how he knew my name and address to send me the contract.

His laugh was soft, but with a cruelty hiding somewhere deep in it. There was another sound there too, coming from his throat; a clicking maybe, or bubbling, and a hissing behind that. "Damhán," he corrected my pronunciation. "Not 'Damn-ham'."

"Down," I tried again. He shook his head and repeated it, slowly. "Dow-un," I said, doing my best to replicate him. He shrugged and gave a small nod - it would do, obviously.

I had the attic room - a whole floor really. In contrast to the rest of the house it was light and airy, with large windows and modern furniture. It had an en suite, a little kitchenette, even my own sitting area. I never needed to use the rest of the house if I didn't want to, but Damhán assured me from the shadows of the stairwell that I had the run of it, reminding me once again about the contract's stipulation not to go into the basement.

I got the full tour. The house was huge - I mean huge, you know. Bigger than it looked from the street, it must have just gone back and back. Loads of empty rooms, which makes sense, I guess; what are you supposed to fill that much space with? I remember at the time asking where his bedroom was, you know, just so I'm not stepping on his toes, and him avoiding the question. Thinking back I don't think I ever did figure that out. And the whole house was dark, curtains drawn in every room, hardly any lights. And cobwebs absolutely everywhere. And these cobwebs weren't dainty little strands, you know, they were thick. I'd occasionally walk through one and actually get stuck for a second or two. I remember thinking that if I had enough money to afford a house like that I'd hire a cleaner to come in a couple of times a week, but rich people are weird, right?

We made our way through the dark to the kitchen - me stumbling, my new landlord silent - where he started pulling out pots and pans to cook me lunch. I can't remember if I'd mentioned being hungry, but I suppose I must have been, anyway, after so long traveling.

Once he was set up, he led me through to the parlour where we spoke that first time, and told me to sit down. He left and I could hear him cooking in the kitchen.

He came back in after a while and placed a plate filled with bacon sandwiches in front of me. The bread was thickly sliced and freshly baked, the fat on the bacon was still sizzling slightly, and I could smell the butter before it was even close. There must have been three or four of them on the plate, each one piled with bacon and far too much for me to eat in one sitting usually. I remember salivating and licking my lips. Damhán licked his lips as well, and watched me tuck in.

Damhán wasn't much of a talker, I quickly learned, but he liked my company at meal times. Whenever I did try talking to him, he'd always end up laughing - with that hissing, bubbling, clicking sound beneath it. I learnt after a while to not make him laugh. He'd not eat with me, he'd just… watch me. Each breakfast and dinner time, and lunch on weekends, he'd call me into the parlour, place a pile of food in front of me and watch me eat it all. Always huge portions, always rich and fatty, always fucking incredible. Some of the best food I'd ever eaten, honestly. Every time I'd think, I'm never finishing that, y’know, always a proper pile of food, and then I'd take that first bite and… Look, it did taste amazing, it did, and I'm sure that was a part of it, but really… I don't know. I just ate. Like I entered a trance, or I was sleepwalking, or… I don't know, okay? All I know is he'd put food in front of me and watch me eat and then it was like, I don't know, like I knew I was eating but I didn't feel it. Like someone else was eating and I was watching them as well.

I started snacking at work as well. I've never been much of a snacker, got to watch my figure you know. Ha! And you can see for yourself how that turned out. But all of a sudden I'm just hungry all the time, I'm stashing chocolate and biscuits in my desk and in my coat, and all day I'm just mindlessly eating and- no, no, not like when he was watching, not that kind of mindless, just, you know, I didn’t ever think about it, it was just, I don't know, habit or instinct or automatic or whatever.

I didn't notice at first. The weight gain, I mean. God, I mean I must have noticed it, but I didn't notice it, you know? Like I could see it happening, I could see myself getting doughy and could see my gut puffing up and how my clothes weren't fitting right, but it's not like. I don't know. I thought with the move and the new job and living in a new country, it was just stress. Like, my weight goes up and down sometimes, this was just an up, there was nothing to notice.

But it kept on going up. And up. And at some point I'm bigger than I've ever been and my clothes aren't just fitting weird or too small, they're tight. Like, couple of sizes, bursting out, buttons not closing tight. I don't know what everyone at work thought. God, I must have been obscene. Actually, I think I, yeah, give me a moment, I've got a picture from around then, some work drinks thing… ah, yeah, here you go.

[Archivist’s note: the subject here showed a picture of himself in a small crowd, at a bar or similar. The subject looks to be around 250 lbs and wearing clothes several sizes too small, with skin showing where his shirt has ridden up, and shirt and trousers showing clear signs of the fabric straining. This picture, along with several others the subject has provided of themselves during their time in Ireland, can be found in the supplemental materials attached to this statement.]

I still didn't see it though. Like, you can see what I looked like, and, I mean, god those trousers! They must have killed, you know? And I can remember how painful they were to wear, remember noticing my body getting bigger, but my brain, I don’t know, just didn’t make the connection that I was actually getting fatter.

It was fast. Really fast. There was this woman in the office, Sarah, right, and she was maybe six months pregnant when I started. Well, obviously, couple of months later she's going on maternity and I looked over at her and I think its the first time I clocked how big I was getting because I realised my belly was bigger than hers. Even accounting for, you know, different heights and builds and stuff, my gut still looked bigger on my frame. One day just before she was due, she mentioned she's put on over two stone, and I remember people saying how much that is. I get home and I weighed myself for the first time since London. I was eighteen and a half stone. I'd put on about five stone since moving. I literally put on more than twice as much as a pregnant woman, and I did it in only a few months. That's mad, right? After that I tried to pay a bit more attention to my weight, step on some scales occasionally, but like I say, it was difficult. My brain just couldn't focus on the idea.

At some point in all of this, some point before I realised I put on more than Sarah I mean, Damhán one day just appeared in the parlour while I was eating some, I don't know, mound of potatoes and meat, and he just put this pile of clothes next to me. Didn't say a word, no mention of how it's because I'm bursting out of my own clothes or where they've come from, just puts them next to me then stands back to watch me eat.

I tried them on later and they fit perfectly. Well, I mean. They fit, anyway. I think I was so used to my clothes cutting in everywhere by that point that anything that was actually reasonably my size felt like it was tailor-made. They must have been expensive though. Real wool suits, tweed trousers. Not really my style, you know, bit old fashioned, but I couldn't deny they looked good, and by that point I was just happy I had something where I could get all the buttons to close.

I remember one time, not too long after, I think I was a bit over twenty stone at that point. I’d come back from the pub - I started drinking a lot, during it all. I think on some level I recognised how fucked up it all was and was just trying to… I dont know. Numb myself. Get out of the house. Whatever. I came back, took off my coat and shoes and whatever, get upstairs and collapsed. The next morning I had this hangover from hell, but at least I knew Damhán’s going to have sorted a slap up breakfast to help me through it. So I went downstairs and… god, sorry, it's just… right, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need…

[Archivist's note: The recording was once again paused here, and the subject was given some cake and biscuits while he became settled.]

Sorry, where was I? Right. I went downstairs and he’s standing in the hallway with his palm outstretched. Completely still, like he's been there hours, just waiting for me to come down. He had a lighter in his hand - I must have nabbed it off someone in the smoking area, you know how it is on a night out, you just sort of pick these things up, don’t you? Anyway he’s stood there with this fucking lighter in his hand, just staring and staring at me as I come down the stairs, and he said “Your contract said no lighters”. That's it. No “good morning” or “how's the head” or whatever. “Your contract said no lighters.”

And I said, you know, sorry, won't happen again, few too many last night, as you do. And he doesn't move. Just stood there with his lighter and he just repeated himself, louder: “No lighters, no naked flames.” And I realise, this guy’s angry. Really, properly, fucking livid. He was almost shaking with it, you could hear it in his voice. His face wasn't really showing it, not really, a little bit around his mouth maybe, but his eyes were… fuck they were blank. This guy was furious about this lighter, probably waited for hours for me to wake up, and his eyes were just blank.

So I'm there realising just how badly I've fucked up, that he must have some phobia or something. I’d seen all the hobs and whatever were induction whatsits, but I'd not really thought about it until then, just thought, I don't know, fuck, that they were just induction hobs, didn't think to care. I started to apologise again, told him I understood. I don't know if he heard me. He just went on and on about lighters and fire, getting louder and louder all the time, until suddenly he just stops and turns around and walks away down the hall.

For a second he stopped outside the door to the basement and put his hand on the knob and turned to look at me. It was like he was sizing me up, looking me up and down. Clearly he decided against whatever he was planning because he carried on to the kitchen and just snapped at me to go sit in the parlour. I remember that moment really clearly. And to say it now, it's nothing, right? He went to open a door. Decided against it. But… fuck me, it felt important at the time. Like my whole life depended on whether or not he opened that door. Maybe it did.

Fifteen minutes later he walked in and just put two big frying pans down in front of me, one piled up with bacon, one filled with eggs and sausages. He walks away and comes back with a loaf of bread and a couple of packs of butter and throws those at me and says “eat”.

And there was a part of me that, you know, obviously wanted to ask about the deconstructed breakfast sandwich I've just been served, and a part of me that was just absolutely boggling at how much food there was, but then there was… I mean the biggest part of me, the bit that wins out, just says to eat.

So I ate. I reached out and I grabbed some bacon with my bare hands out of the frying pan and I just shoveled it in my mouth, and just carried on until it was all gone, all the while with Damhán stood watching. Then the eggs and sausages, just with my hands, you know, with the yolk just, fuck, just dribbling down my arms. When that was all gone I started taking bites out of the bread. Didn't slice it, didn't butter it, just ate until it was gone. Then Damhán just carried on watching me and I… I got that feeling. Like I was in a trance and the only thing I knew is that I had to eat. So I bit into the butter. Just took a great big bite out of it. And another, and another. Fuck me, I ate it like it was chocolate. And I was screaming at myself to stop, right? Obviously I didn't want to be eating butter by the block. But he didn't force me, or threaten me, or whatever, didn't even tell me to. I ate it. I did that. Me. And he just watched.

Once I was done he walked out and left me alone. I won't lie, I cried. Pretty fucking hard. My stomach hurt, I was covered in butter and grease and egg. I felt huge - I was huge. And I just felt so ashamed.

After that it all picked up pace. He never mentioned that day again, but meals got bigger. A lot bigger. Each one could have fed a rugby team. Occasionally he'd just put a block of butter on the side, like it was a fucking dessert or something. I always ate it. He never told me to. I just knew what I was supposed to do.

And I started swelling up. I was gaining fast beforehand, but this was, fuck me, I reckon it must have been over a pound a day, maybe two. Must have been, honestly, considering how fast it all was and how big I am now. Clothes just seemed constantly uncomfortable; even straight after he'd given me bigger ones, they'd not quite fit right. My back hurt all the time from hefting around this gut, my feet hurt, I got these stretch marks fucking everywhere. It was just a lot, all the time, and my body never got a chance to adjust.

It was around Christmas, I must have been, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven stone - who knows honestly, it all went by so fast. I went to my work’s Christmas do. Fuck knows what they must have all thought of me - can you imagine? They hire me at thirteen, fourteen stone, and not even a year later I'm pushing double that and not showing any signs of stopping?

Anyway, the Christmas do. I'm wearing the biggest Christmas jumper that I could find in M&S, and even that's, you know, riding up on me, fits me like a sausage casing. People are being friendly, nicer than I'd be if I was watching someone inflate in front of me in real time, if I'm being honest. No jokes or anything; not to my face anyway. And someone asks if I'm going home for Christmas, and I say no, I'm staying in Dublin. They ask, you know, very reasonable questions; am I not seeing family, my friends back in London? And I couldn't answer them. I had no clue why I wasn't going back home.

Eventually someone asks will I be doing anything with my housemates. I said it's just me and the landlord, so they get to asking about him, you know, what's he like, is he alright, do I get on with him. And at some point I mention his name and a couple of people give me funny looks, one woman laughs at me. I assume I've just said it funny, you know how Irish names are. And someone tells me that Damhán Alla means spider in Irish. I sort of laugh and say I must be saying it wrong, I spell it out on a napkin and someone says, no, that’s definitely just ‘spider’. And they keep on asking questions; is it his first name, full name, do I know if it's a nickname, just finding it absolutely mad that the new fat English bloke at work is claiming his landlord’s full name is Spider.

It makes me feel weird. I think they eventually just accept it as a weird name, like celebrity parents calling their kids Apple or Moonbase, but it really stuck with me. And I didn't really talk the rest of the evening, I just sat thinking about the cobwebs, and how dark the house is, and how dark and empty his eyes were.

At some point I followed someone to the smoking area and made a point of nicking a lighter. I didn't know what it was supposed to do, what I'd use it for, but fuck it, if Damhán didn't want me to have a lighter then I'd make sure to have a lighter. I tucked it into my pocket, and from that point on I always had it hidden somewhere, slept with it under my pillow, even kept it in sight when I was having a shower.

Nothing changed for a while, not really. I had my lighter, and I was thinking about Damhán differently, but honestly, it's not like I'd trusted him for a good while anyway. I was still eating the insane piles of food he put in front of me, still getting fatter and fatter. This goes on for a few months, and remember, I reckon I'm putting on over a pound a day at this point - a few months is a good long time to be putting on that much weight. But, as I got bigger, I felt like Damhán started to act differently towards me. I could see him eyeing me up sometimes, like, I was some fruit he was waiting on to get ripe enough. He even asked me, a couple of times, how much I weighed. I'd always tell him, between my bites of butter. One time I said I wasn't sure and he followed me up to the bathroom and watched me weigh myself. I remember him laughing when I read off the weight - bubbling and clicking and hissing again, making my stomach turn - and telling me I was doing a good job.

One Sunday in March, breakfast was huge. I mean, I was pretty used to eating a lot of food by that point, but this was just a crazy amount of food. He just kept bringing out plates and plates of it, didn't even watch me like he usually did, just kept on going back into the kitchen to whip up more. Eventually the sausages and eggs turn into roast vegetables and chicken and gravy, and there's some steaks in there, a load of it was just ready meals still in the plastic, and it all just keeps coming and coming and I just keep eating and eating. Eventually it got dark and the food stopped coming. He never says what the fuck just happened or that it was over, he just stops coming in with trays of food. Anyway, at some point a bit after that I heard him go through the basement door, which, I mean, I should have realised then that something was about to happen. Because I've never been down there, obviously, but I also don't think I've ever seen him go down there either.

Anyway, I sit there burping and farting and digesting until I feel human enough to pull myself up, and fuck me I was used to putting on weight by that point, but I could literally feel all that sudden extra weight. And I stagger up the stairs, probably travelling about a foot a minute, really fucking sluggish, until I collapse into bed, in the same too small pyjamas I had on that morning, my gut fucking looming over me, not even enough strength to pull the covers over me, fuck knows if I’d even be able to reach over my gut to grab them in the first place, and I’m asleep within a few minutes.

At some point I woke up. I didn't think too much about it at first, because I'd started snoring pretty bad somewhere in the first hundred pounds or so, bad enough that I woke myself up with it sometimes. But eventually, I started to see a shape somewhere above me. Like, the room was pitch black, but there was a section above me that was even darker. And I felt something drop onto my face, like something wet and slimy. I reach over to turn my light on and there's Damhán leaning over me, with his mouth wide open, long lines of saliva falling down onto me.

And his teeth were, fuck, I don't know if I'd ever seen his teeth before. Like, maybe he never opened his mouth when he spoke? Or maybe it was the same as how I didn't think about how much I ate or how big I was getting and he just made me not notice them, but they were… fuck me. His mouth was full of these huge, sharp, black fangs.

And even though he had his mouth wide open, wider than I've ever seen any human ever open their mouth, it sort of felt like he was smiling. Like this sadistic, shit-eating smile.

I backed away, as best as I could, what with my being the size of a small hatchback and the fact that he was close enough that even a normal sized person wouldn't be able to really put that much space between him and them, never mind me with my gut almost touching him. I realised that I was covered in cobwebs, thick ones, so that I had to pull them off as I went. And he laughed. His mouth didn't move, but he laughed, and it was so much worse than any other time I'd heard. It was that same gurgling, hissing, clicking sound, but it was like he wasn't bothering to cover it up anymore. I felt like throwing up.

I reached under my pillow and I grabbed my lighter and held it up to him, lit. It seems mad really, how he reacted to it. A tiny little flame like that, and that fucking monster cowered from it like I was holding a gun up to his head. I’m not particularly maneuverable, these days, so it was a struggle, but I made sure as fuck to keep that little flame between him and me at all times as I heaved myself out of bed.

I backed towards the door, and I think he panicked that I was going to get away because he lunged at me and… fuck. He went up like he was covered in petrol. The flame barely touched him. And he started going around the room, bumping into things, and they went up as well.

I couldn't exactly run, but I turned around and I lumbered out of there as quickly as I could. At one point I turned round and the whole landing had gone up behind me. I couldn't believe how fast it was all burning. I think it was all the cobwebs.

I got downstairs, with my heart pounding, and I turned around one last time to see the basement door open. I heard this clicking and gurgling, like when Damhán laughed, and these legs came out round the door, like spiders’ legs but huge. Six, eight feet long maybe. I didn't wait to see whatever they were attached to. I barrelled the door down, and I think it came off its hinges - this much weight will do that.

A neighbour must have rung 999, because the emergency services got there pretty sharpish. The paramedics put one of those foil blanket things awkwardly over my shoulders, like it was supposed to cover me up, and I got given a cup of tea and sat in an ambulance for a bit, then got taken to the police station for some questioning. I lied, obviously. Just told them I woke up when I heard the fire alarm and that's all I knew. I mean, what was I supposed to tell them? I set fire to my surprisingly flammable landlord because he was fattening me up to feed to a spider god he kept in the basement? Is that… I mean, do you think that's what it was? No, no, I suppose you don't know any more than me.

Someone at the station must have picked something up about why I wasn't giving any details, or they had additional information about the house or something, because someone mentioned I should give you guys a call. That you've smoothed over cases before where some of the details have been, I don't know, weird.

And I guess I thought you might be able to give me some answers. If you've seen anything similar, I mean. Like why did he have to make me so fat? Okay, you've got a spider-thing in your basement and you want to make sure its meals are nice and big and nutritious, but then why take so long? Just feed it a normal-sized person a week, not, fuck, not the fattest person you’ve ever seen after a year.

No. No, I suppose you haven't. Sorry, I just. Yeah.

I've been to a doctor about the weight. They didn't even have any scales that could weigh me, they had to refer me to a specialist who had some bariatric scale things. Fucking four-hundred and eighty something pounds. Thirty-five stone, or near enough. Have you ever even seen someone that big? Ha, I suppose you have now, yeah. Anyway, yeah, they've got me on some special weight loss regime, you know, restricted calories, physical therapy which is basically just walking for ten minutes until I'm knackered. I need to lose a load of weight before they can even talk about surgery.

That's it, I guess. Will you- yeah, no sorry, you've got your own procedures and stuff. Yeah, I can see myself back to reception. I don't suppose you have any more of those biscuits, do you?

[Statement ends.

Final archivist's notes, dated 05/11/23: The details of Mr Barrett’s statement have been verified as far as possible. There is a record of his move to and employment in Dublin, and while there is not a record of his renting with Mr Alla, there is a record of the existence of a building matching Mr Barrett’s description at the address provided and of the fire Mr Barrett described [see supplemental materials].

There are 17 reports of missing persons logged in Dublin where the missing person had gained a significant amount of weight prior to their disappearance, going back to 1909.

The name Damhán Alla appears in four previous statements, dating back to 1907. We have added the name as a searchable tag to these statements, although none seem to deal directly with him.

In recent follow up interviews with Mr Barrett's family, friends and doctors, it would seem that his weight loss plan has been unsuccessful, and he has gained somewhat more weight since moving back to London. His family and friends have noted that he seems in good spirits, despite his rather unique trauma and ongoing circumstances. His father made a mention of a new hobby - a newfound interest in spiders.]

[twoa-plus]

it’s 2:00am and this is more of a character thing than a genuine theory but *claps hands for the drama* same coin theory. what if both of the stans are bill

or like. a parallel to him. like i said this isn’t a super serious theory i’m mostly just back on my character analysis bs lol

so i haven’t gotten to talk abt this much but i am a firm believer in that there is not a superior stan. from a personality perspective this is obviously entirely subjective, but i mean that there isn’t a superior one when it comes to their objective traits and how useful they are

ford is. ford. i don’t really have to say anything here he’s super smart can play the piano or whatever etc etc. however one thing that i will say that i think is important here is that i am like. 99% sure this man has a higher tolerance to The Horrors than other humans do. dude spent 30 years in that portal and came out pretty much the same level of crazy, and we all saw what happened to fiddleford. i know fidds saw bill take off his exoskeleton or whatever but u can’t convince me that ford traveled the multiverse - with all sorts of monsters and non-3d dimensions and god knows what else - for 3 decades and didn’t see some shit that would make anybody else lose it. like at this point u could tell me this guy could have a casual conversation over tea with cthulu and be fine and i’d believe u

as for stan - and i mean this in the absolute best way possible i love this guy - he’s like the world’s most charismatic cockroach. he’s fantastic with people and just straight up refuses to die. for the first point i don’t just mean this in the conman way, when it comes to the people that actually matter stan always manages to win them over in some way or another (soos, wendy, the kids, ford, etc) and one does not simply survive for a decade on the street without needing the occasional favor from someone who actually likes you. “oh but rico-“ man when u’ve been living as a homeless criminal for a decade and the list of people that want to kill u consists of 1 person and the government u’ve done pretty damn well. anyways as for the cockroach point, he’s alive and has his memories. i don’t even have to say much here stan went through all of That, lived through the series itself including The Literal Apocalypse, metaphorically (something something people are just a collage of their life experiences) died at the end of it all and then came back to life. that’s hardcore as hell man. in a less literal interpretation of the “refusing to die” bit, he’s also just. insanely determined. the biggest example is ofc him never graduating highschool and yet teaching himself god knows how much math and science and whatnot over the course of 30 damn years because he just refuses to believe that he can’t save his brother. stan pines is a force of nature i swear

[additional note while im already ranting about this guy, im not a personal believer in the “stan is just as (academically) smart as ford” theory. first of all i feel like this entire theory is kind of rooted in the idea that he has to be/be on the same level as “the smart one” to have value, which is an idea that the stans’ entire backstory is based around criticizing, and i think stan has something just as if not more valuable than freakish intelligence - raw fucking grit. he wasn’t the one to open the portal back up because of some intellectual advantage, he was the one to open the portal back up because he wanted to, god damn it, and best of luck to you if you’re gonna try and stop him.]

anyways as for the same coin thing, everybody knows the stan part. his casual references to the impending apocalypse, “you’ve been buying gold, right?”, him being such a good conman, etc etc. while i’m already ranting about stan’s determination, bill’s got that too - he’s been trying for like thousands of years to take over the world and he just Won’t Stop. point is there’s a lot of character traits they share

(i know in the original same coin post a pretty major point is stan not making a deal with bill, but i think that could probably be pretty easily explained without the need for divine intervention. the only times bill makes a deal with someone without them summoning him first is after he’s kind of left on a loose end with gideon, and everyone knows stan wouldn’t fall for his lies in the first place)

bill also shares a lot of traits with ford, though. both have some kind of physical anomaly (bill’s eye & ford’s hands), both can see/understand things others of their species can’t, they’re both egomaniacs (listen i love ford but the guy has issues), etc. u could even argue that, at least at the time they meet, they have some kind of connection through their loneliness

so. with the theory of “bill was reincarnated to make up for what he did,” what if it wasn’t just stan? what if he was split in two, and his “reincarnation” is both of them? they’re flawed enough to make it a lot harder for either of them to take over the world (ford’s lack of social skills & stan’s lack of freakish academic knowledge), and they have something bill doesn’t - each other.

bill is alone. that’s his whole problem. he killed everyone he loved, treats everyone new he meets like shit, and now he’s Like That. throughout it all, the one thing the stans have always had - even if it was just in their memory - is each other. “oh but ford-“ shhhh. shhshhshshshhsh. shut up. ford has Problems but i genuinely don’t think he ever stopped loving stan. love is weird, first of all, and secondly he clearly never stopped trusting him. no matter what he might say about stan being a liar or a conman or whatever, who’s the one person he goes to when he’s forced to admit he needs help? ford is a weird guy and has an… odd way of showing it but he loves his family just like the rest of the pines and i will die on this hill

i’ve been writing this for over an hour straight and i think my brain is melting but i’m sure at this point u get the idea. both of the stans, together, serve as a parallel to bill, and the one thing they have that he doesn’t is love. that’s what killed him.

something something killing an interdimensional dream demon with the power of friendship and this gun i found

[billthedrake]

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS (PART THREE)

"Wow, you went all out, Coach," I said as I helped him set out the food on the table.

He gave a grin and replied, "Just my bachelor holiday dinner... thanks for sharing it with me, Russ."

"My pleasure," I said.

Ed had in his hand a bigger sized bottle of beer, which he opened. "Feel like sharing my Christmas present?"

I nodded. "Just a half glass," I said. "Gotta drive back." I wasn't a big beer guy, but I didn't want to turn down Coach S's offer. "Who's the gift from?" I asked.

"Matt Reynolds," he replied as he poured my glass half full then set to give himself some. "He and I are both into beer." Coach Reynolds was the high school's head football coach.

I held up my glass. "It makes sense, but I guess I never thought of teachers hanging out together outside of school."

He held up his glass and gave a silent toast. Then he replied with a smirk, "I'll admit get along better with some of the teachers more than others. Matt's my closest friend." Ed got a little shy as he added, "He's the only one who I've come out to, actually."

"Coach Reynolds?" I responded, incredulously.

That made Ed laugh. "Um, yeah. You surprised?"

I nodded. "The guy's a total meathead. Yeah, I'm surprised."

My former teacher shrugged. God, he was so handsome and adorable. I was glad we'd gotten the sex out of the way, so I could actually carry on a conversation with the man. "People have a way of surprising you, Russ."

"Sometimes not for the better," I said. Then realizing I might have come across as snotty or cynical, I added. "Sorry... I guess I'm still a little bitter from the way Zach Martin treated me." Zach and I had been friends since 6th grade, but he stopped talking to me when I came out.

I saw a look of real empathy on Coach S's face. "Sorry, Russ," he said. "I didn't know the full story, but I know you went through a lot."

"You do learn who your real friends are," I said, my tone less bitter than my words now. "I realize now that Zach is just crazy insecure, and I just got caught up in that."

Ed nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if Zach is gay himself."

I don't know why that didn't occur to me. "You think?"

He nodded. "Don't take it to the bank. It's just a hunch. But I know when I was that age, I was so freaked out someone would figure out... I may have been an asshole to a few guys just so I could fit in."

"Damn, Coach," I said.

He seemed embarrassed now. "I never had a friend come out to me, and I don't know what I would have done if I had. I'd like to think I'd do the right thing, but you never know." He took a sip. "I just know I was MAJORLY fucked up about the gay thing. Playing sports didn't help." I knew Ed Stanley was opening himself up to me, maybe in a way that wasn't easy for him. "I always admired how you handled things, Russ."

That surprised me. "In what way?"

He looked at his beer glass as he reflected on my question. "I don't know. You seemed confident in yourself." He looked back up at me. "Whatever... I know being a teenager isn't easy and probably wasn't for you either. Teachers don't know all that's going on, but we have more of an idea than our students realize."

I laugh. "Probably, yeah." Then, "truth be told, being an adult isn't always easy either."

That made Ed smile. I loved his smile. "You got that right," he said. "There's one big consolation prize, though," he said. "What we did just now," Ed added with an impish grin.

"You mean the fucking?" I clarified.

His blue eyes twinkled. "Yeah, the fucking. Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but that was the hottest sex of my life."

Damn, this man knew how to push my buttons. "I'm honored," I said. "So maybe I shouldn't admit it was the hottest sex of my life, too."

"Well, here's to hot sex," Ed toasted.

I laughed and matched his toast.

We talked a little less as we dug into the food. I don't think I realized how much the sex had worked up my appetite, and Ed seemed to be in the same boat.

But as our eating pace slowed, I had to ask the question on my mind. "So, Ed..." I started. "Why did you let this happen... You know, between us?"

He seemed to anticipate my question. "I got tired of putting my life on hold. I broke things off with Jessica two years ago," he explained about his former fiancee. "It was around the holidays, actually, and I guess I realize I'm still not happy." He gave me a little wince of a smile. "Seriously, having you keep me company has made my year."

My heart pounded. "Damn, Coach. I'm having a blast. Not only the sex, but all of it."

"You know, for a college kid, you're pretty damn mature."

"Hardly," I laughed. "I know this sounds cheesy, Coach, but for me, being gay... well, I just love other guys. Love spending time with them, in whatever way clicks." I found myself the one being embarrassed. "I guess I craved the male bonding I didn't always have."

"Remind me to punch Zach Martin's lights out next time I see him," Coach said. And it took me a second to realize he was joking.

I laughed. "Please do. The fucker."

Ed pushed his chair back. "Let me clear the dishes. I have some dessert if you have room."

"I have room," I said. "But I'm helping you."

I got up and started picking up out dinner plates. As I brought them into the kitchen, I could see out the window, into Ed Stanley's back yard.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

"What?" Ed asked, concerned.

"It's a blizzard out there," I said. I set down the dishes by the sink and walked over to the sliding glass door.

I was exaggerating, but it was really coming down now, and several inches of white stuff lay on the ground, the reflected light making the dusk seem less dim.

I felt his presence behind me, his hand touching my waist. It was a simple gesture, and a welcome. "Jesus," he said. "Is it supposed to let up?"

I laughed. "Man, I don't know." I turned to him. "I should check in with my folks."

He patted my side before stepping back. "Yeah," he said. Maybe a little disappointment in his face that I'd be leaving, but possibly I was flattering myself.

I pulled out my phone and indeed I had a couple of worried texts from my mom. She was staying over at her friend's and was concerned I'd be driving in the winter mess. I told her I could stay over at my friend's and that I'd check in with Dad.

My father isn't a big texter, so I called him.

"Hey," he said when he answered. "Some storm, huh?" Dad could get right to the point sometimes. I think I inherited that from him.

"Yeah, Mom's freaking out about me. I told her I could stay over at Jason's tonight."

"Sounds good, Russ," Dad said. Then with a quiet tone, asked. "You're not at Jason's are you?"

I paused, a little freaked out I was caught in a lie. Though knowing Dad, he hadn't actually caught me at anything. The man just had a good sixth sense. I figured I was 21 and had no reason to lie to my parents. "No, Dad, I'm not. Sorry."

"I'll cover for you with your mom. Just be safe, OK?"

"I will," I said. "Promise. And again, Sorry." I was feeling like a heel now.

"I was 21 once," Dad said. "You need your space. If you need anything, a ride or something, just me a call."

"Will do."

I shook my head after I hung up. Coach S was right. Sometimes people can surprise you, in a good way.

He was just finishing cleaning up when I walked back in. "Everything OK?" he asked.

"Yep," I said. "If I'm not imposing too much, Coach, could I crash here tonight? I can sleep on the couch or whatever." I didn't want to make it seem like I was just trying to be clingy with him. "My parents just don't want me driving."

He laughed. "I damn well hope you're not taking the couch, buddy," he said. Then with a worried hesitation, he added, "I mean if you do, I'll respect that... but I wouldn't mind a little bonus time with you."

"I wouldn't mind either, Coach."

That made him smile. He set down his towel and faced me fully. "You know, I never was your coach."

"You prefer Mr. Stanley?" I teased.

"No, not really," he laughed. He stepped up and wrapped up his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "You know, I didn't ever think I'd enjoy being with a taller guy," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked. I'd spent my teen years self conscious about my height but now enjoyed it. Ed Stanley was bigger and hunkier than me, but I was able to look down some at him as we stood toe to toe.

He nodded. "Guess I liked being the man."

"Ed, that's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said with a laugh.

"Yeah, it is. Guess I got some hang ups. But I like this," he said. "You're a tall drink of water, Russ." He now ran his hands up my back, over the fabric of my T-shirt. "When did you bulk up?"

"Started hitting the weights freshman year," I explained. "Guess I had hangups of my own, you know, about my body...."

"You got a porn body, stud," Stanley said with a sexy grin.

"Look who's talking," I said.

We kissed. It was gentle and magical. Just a hint of tongue and I could sense our breath was synching up.

"Hmmm, I like snow days," the man said in a low voice.

"I'm liking them now," I replied.

I felt his hands come around my friend, openly feeling up my chest. I was so into his ex-jock build that I was enjoying seeing him clearly turned on by me. His hands traveling lower until his left knuckle grazed the crotch of my jeans.

"You're hard," he said, as he looked up into my eyes.

"Pretty much. Yeah," I nodded.

We kissed again, and now I took the occasion to feel up Ed's body. I undid a couple of his shirt buttons and felt him moan into my mouth.

The man seemed to be keeping his self-control as he stepped back. I could tell he had a boner in his sweats now, and I was proud I'd given that to him. "OK if we just enjoy a little time in the living room before hitting the bedroom? We got all night, Russ."

"Sounds good."

"I'll light a fire in the fireplace," he said. "Sometimes it doesn't seem worth the bother just for myself."

"I wish I'd brought something more comfortable to wear," I said. Even in his button-down, Ed looked relaxed with his sweats on.

"Feel free to dig through my drawers to see if something will fit you." His eyes swept up my body. "Not sure if there will be."

"Thanks," I said. I went back to his bedroom and looked through his casual clothes, all folded neatly in his drawers. Indeed his sweatpants and pajama bottoms were way too short, but I decided on a pair of gym shorts with a drawstring that helped them hold to a waist that was two inches smaller than his size. I could have stuck with my T-shirt, but I saw an old shirt with a baseball team logo. Something about wearing Ed Stanley's clothes excited me, so I grabbed the shirt, too. I slipped the shorts on without anything on underneath, then tried on the shirt. It was loose, but it came down below my waist, which was good.

He was done fiddling with the fire when I walked in.

"You found my old team shirt," he observed, walking over to join me on the couch.

"The Captains?" I asked, referencing the logo.

"Yep, my minor league team. Played with them for two years before I called it quits." He seemed nostalgic.

"Is that when you decided to go into teaching?" I asked. I didn't really know how any of this worked.

"No, I got my Ed degree in college. I knew the majors was a long shot."

"Well, you're a great teacher," I said, then blushed as soon as I did. "I guess this is weird to talk about, huh?"

"A little," he admitted. "But you're really hot, Russ... you've become a really hot young man. So if I have to deal with the weirdness, it's worth it."

He placed his arm around my shoulder again, and I leaned into his warm build some. I knew if he started something sexual, I'd be ready for it, but our session earlier that afternoon had taken away the urgency.

"I know this isn't my place to say, Ed, but you deserve to be happy." I couldn't look at him as I said this, but after seeing a certain loneliness in the guy, I felt I had to speak to it.

"Thanks, Russ," he replied softly. Almost sadly. "Are you happy?"

"More or less," I said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"I dunno," I said. I realized no one but Ed Stanley had ever asked me that question. "I mean, I'm enjoying college, and I guess I've dated a couple of guys. But like, I don't know, part of me wants a real relationship, something serious, to see what that's like. I mean, I'm not gonna rush it or anything, you know?"

His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Yeah, I know, Russ," he said.

I turned to him and his eyes were on me. Coach Stanley wanted another kiss. I wanted to kiss him. This time, I did my best to copy the man's soft approach. Something about our connection made me rock hard now as I kiss him and he kissed me back.

We made out some, a lot even. But we weren't rushing anything. It was around 7 and it was Christmas and the snow was coming down. We could enjoy this.

"What about you, Ed?" I finally asked as we parted, goofy expression on our face. "Any boyfriends?"

He shook his head. "I've tried the app thing. And this may sound old fashioned, Russ, but... I don't know, I think I need some other connection than coming in and taking off my clothes."

I nodded. "In all fairness Ed, you look REALLY fucking good without your clothes on."

He smirked. "Thanks. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," I said. "I've done the hookup thing some, and I've enjoyed it. But... I don't know, earlier..."

I stopped mid sentence. Stanley picked up on it. "What?" he asked.

I gulped. "I'm afraid of saying something real stupid, Ed."

He put his hand beneath my chin and turned me toward him. "I want you to trust me, Russ. I may not agree with what you say but I'm not going to judge you. Promise."

I nodded. My body shook a little, which made me embarrassed because I knew Stanley could tell. "When you were in me earlier...."

"Yeah...?" he prompted.

"It felt incredible. It was incredible."

"It was incredible for me, too," he said.

"Yeah, but... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think for me half of it was I wanted to make you happy. Like, I wanted to give that experience to you."

"Oh buddy," he muttered, his eyes a little moist.

"Maybe you think that's fucked up, but I think that's what made the fuck so good for me."

He took a deep breath, like he was trying to choose his words carefully. "That's what sex is, giving as well as receiving pleasure."

"It's not always," I corrected. I thought back to some of my hookups. "At least not emotionally."

"Yeah, not always," he agreed.

We kissed again. A little more eagerly this time. Part of me wanted to talk more with Ed, but this felt better. Being held by him, him pull me down on top of him as we reclined on the couch. He was warm, and the fireplace was heating up the room, too. Maybe this wasn't too different from time with my boyfriends of the past, but Ed Stanley brought a seriousness that wore down my defenses.

Slowly we humped on the couch and explored each other's bodies as we made out. He had me take off his minor league T-shirt and I unbuttoned his dress shirt once more. Ed Stanley was hard once more, I could feel his boner against mine, even if we hadn't stripped from the waist down.

But as we kissed Ed ran his hands down my back and under the waist of my shorts, which were his shorts really. His broad palms felt nice and warm against my bare buns.

He grunted into my mouth as I pulled up.

"Think I could press my luck, Russ?" he asked, horny as he could be.

"I'd say I'm the lucky one, Coach... are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

He looked into my eyes, his blue eyes clearly hungry. "I'd love to fuck you again, buddy." He put a slight emphasis on the "fuck" making it sound more naughty. "Maybe try some different positions."

I grinned. "You liked the barebacking, didn't you?"

He bit his lips and nodded. "And how. But if you're not up for it..."

"Oh, I'm up for it," I assured him. "I should be a little more relaxed from earlier."

"Is that how it works?" Ed asked, his fingers now dipping deeper into my crack.

"Can't speak for other guys, but a good fuck stretches me open a little. It's a nice feeling actually."

His nostrils flared as he took that in. "Bedroom?" he asked hoarsely.

"Lead the way, Coach," I said, then slid up off his body before standing in his living room, an erection evident in the shorts, matching his own clear boner.

Things felt smoother and slower now that we were working up for our second round. Yet our eyes ate each other up as we stripped down completely and got in on opposite sides of Ed's bed.

"Damn," he hissed as I moved in to nestle up against his naked furry build. "I'm glad you're staying over, Russ."

I could feel his hard dick against mine. "Funny... all of this happened because I ran into you."

"Glad I got that Christmas tree," he said. "I almost didn't."

"Glad I had the guts to hit on you," I replied.

He smirked. "I knew you wanted to."

"Yeah, I know," I said.

We kissed again. I was starting to worry about whisker burn or chapped lips, but it was like neither of us could get enough. The more we did, the more Ed seemed to get worked up. I was, too, sure, but I think my normal MO was to be a horndog when I was with a guy, so it was like I was waiting for the signal from him to amp things up.

I now used the element of surprise to push him on his back while I got up on top. His hands were greedily gripping my ass muscle as we got into it.

"Damn, you have a great ass," Ed said in a soft low voice.

"I realized at some point tall guys have to hit leg day twice as hard," I said, joking but not entirely.

He laughed. "I hope you don't mind me focusing only on your body... you know I think more of you, Russ."

I didn't know what Coach thought of me, actually, beyond this strange chemistry that had erupted between this week. I leaned up, flexing my bod a little and showing off for the man, even as my own hands were on his strong pecs. "I'll let you in on a secret, Coach. It's kind of a kick when you treat me like a piece of meat. I didn't think that would ever happen."

"Noted, buddy," he said, his own hands coming up to touch my smoother build.

I reached over to where the lube was still out.

"You, um... ?" Coach started to ask.

I nodded, reaching back to slick up his boner. Ed Stanley was rock hard now and I enjoyed the broad grin on his face as I slicked him up then leaned back against his cock.

"Twice in one day... fuck," he muttered.

I misunderstood what he meant. "You want it, right?"

"God, yeah," he muttered. His eyes were on my body some but mostly watched my face as I sank back onto him. The penetration indeed was easier this time. I was horny and Ed's prior fuck had loosened me just enough.

"Amazing," my ex teacher grunted.

I sat further down in his lap. I felt full in a good way, but it was the psychological part of this mating that got me going. "I didn't ask... what's your favorite position?"

"I gotta choose?" he chuckled.

"No," I replied. "Just curious."

His hands now openly caressed my front, his eyes clearly excited. "I love it all. But maybe doggy."

I nodded. "Hot. But let me ride you like this, and you can pick the positions you wanna try."

"Sounds amazing, buddy," Ed grunted. I could tell he was still in thrall with the feeling of condom-less sex. "Only it should be good for you, too."

"It will be," I assured him. "Maybe let me cum missionary," I added. "Last time was crazy hot."

"Will do."

Ed watched me work up and down in his lap, his hands now gently gripping my waist to guide me. Then not so gently he held me steady while he pumped up into me. "Feel good, buddy?" he asked.

It wasn't a question, though. Stanley could read the pleasure in my face. "Fuck me, Ed."

He got an almost serious scowl on his face as he got into fuck mode, thrusting up deeper into me. "All right..." he finally urged. "Climb off."

I didn't know what he had in store, but as I knelt on the mattress, Coach S's thick body scrambled out from beneath me and moved to come from behind. I felt his hand on the middle of my back, pushing me forward. "All fours, buddy," he urged, a new horniness in his voice.

I felt his lube-slick prick nudge back into place and once again his hands gripped my waist to almost pull me back on to him.

The thrusts were urgent and hard now. Not rough, but I was being nailed by a very horny and very athletic man. "Tell me if it gets too rough," he instructed.

"Feels amazing," I replied. It did, too. I wouldn't say Ed Stanley was making me any less vers in my sexual inclination, but he was revealing to me that when I did bottom, I wanted a top like this. That girthy cock of his was riding hard and heavy over my prostate. I braced myself on the bed and felt my prick drip onto his bedsheets while my former teacher used my hole.

"Goddamn... my last load is frothing up on my cock," he said excitedly. Like he was living out some nasty porn video. Which in a way I guess we both were. "Fuuuuck!" His thursts jackhammered into me in rapid succession, until I felt them pause.

The hands on my waist now let go and ran up and down my sweaty back. "Don't wanna cum just yet," he said softly. Then he pulled out and gave my ass a light smack. "Why don't you lie on your stomach and pull one leg up."

I did as asked, turning back to look at his hungry eyes and sweaty body as I did. "You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you."

His wet dick pulsed. "I have," he grunted. "I watch a hell of a lot of porn, and now I have my own Corbin Fisher guy in bed with me."

I pulled my left leg up toward my chest, feeling my ass crack and hole exposed to his gaze. "Just remember I'm not actually a professional at this, Coach."

He had an apologetic look on his face. "Got it," he said, then scooshed forward to line up his prick to my now-wet ring.

I was half turned on my side, half face down, in a scissor position. The entry was easier this time, aided by the limits the angle put on Coach's thrusts. He was taking it slow, too. Only I got to feel the extra depth of penetration as his cock bore deeper. All the while, those blue eyes were on me. Watching.

"I love seeing your hardon while I fuck you," he muttered.

"I told you, Coach... it's good for me, too."

It was like my words made him focus on me, and the pleasure I was getting from my insides. Slowly, he sawed in and out, eyes locked on me the whole time.

"I feel like I could come any minute," he said after a few minutes.

"Why don't you?" I asked. I was so turned on but also knew my relatively inexperienced ass would probably tire out within a couple more minutes of this.

"Don't want it to end," he said simply.

"You know I'm gonna let you fuck me again, Coach," I replied. "That is, if you want."

"Yeah?" he said a real sense of hope in his voice.

I nodded.

"Fuck... I'm so close, buddy," he said, now very slowly working in and out of me. "Ok if we try this on your stomach?"

I didn't reply. I just moved my legs down and stretched out on the bed. Coach Stanley stretched out on top of me, covering my back closely with his hairy bulk and his beard tickling the back of my neck. Already he was thrusting into me, not fast but hard, while his hands felt up my arms.

"This OK, Russ?" he asked.

"Feels great, Ed," I grunted. It did, too. I'd tried this with a couple of guys before, including my frat boy boyfriend, but Ed Stanley was bigger and furrier and meatier in his build. I loved the full contact and the weight of him on me. And I loved the thickness of his dick plowing me steadily. "You can go harder if you want."

I swear he growled, let out a real bear growl, when I said that. His hands now held my arms down and he just went for it. Hard deep shoves into my ass as he eagerly went for his nut.

"Oh my fuck..." he grunted. Then I heard a deep series of whimpers as the man came, deep in my ass for a second time, his body twitching and jerking on top of me. I didn't think I could come in this position, but I felt a pressure in my prostate that made me feel the urgent need. I reached down and touched my prick. I had enough lube left in my right palm to make it work. Just two strokes back and forth and I was entering my own deep orgasm.

"Oh shit," I hissed as I regained some consciousness. I'd never had a bottoming orgasm quite like that. My first with Coach Stanley had been about fantasy buttons and the way he pressed every one. This second nut was more purely physical, the way Coach's topping practically fucked the cum out of me.

Ed was already rolling off me and lying down to get face to face as I turned on my side. "I guess that was good for you, too, huh, Russ?" he asked.

"Jesus, Ed. I can barely think right now," I muttered, still catching my breath. "But yeah...."

His own chest was rising and falling and I could even sense his heart beat as he smiled at me. "I think you telling me I could do it again sometime... that was the trigger for me."

I looked down on the bedsheets, where my cum had soaked the fabric. "I'm afraid I left a big wet spot."

He smiled. "Well you gotta sleep in it... just kidding. We'll change the sheets," he said. "But I'm glad you liked that, because... goddamn...."

"Yeah," I agreed. I slid off the bed. "Can I get some water?" I asked.

"Help yourself in the kitchen," he replied.

I slid Ed's shorts back on and made my way to rehydrate. When I returned, he'd stripped the sheets and was putting on a new set. I helped him. He was bare chested in his sweat pants. If I hadn't just had two rounds of intensely incredible sex, I would have boned up just looking at him. As I watched him tuck one side in, he looked up, catching me staring. He winked, which made me blush.

He picked up the bundle of soiled sheets and turned back to. "Don't worry, Russ, I'm in the same boat," he said. "Like I said, it's like when I wanted to play with my new toy all Christmas day."

I laughed. "You mean I can't play with mine tomorrow morning?" I joked.

He smirked. "I didn't say that, buddy," he said. "I'll throw these in the wash. You feel like having another beer in front of the fire place? I have some scotch too, if that sounds better."

I'd never had scotch but I figured what the hell. This evening was about new experiences and getting to know Ed Stanley. "Scotch sounds good."

He nodded. "Put another log on the fire, if there's still embers. I'll tend to it in a minute."

"Yep," I said.

Coach S wasn't making a move to put a shirt on, so I didn't either. Maybe we'd need to fire to keep warm, but I enjoyed the half nakedness together.

Coach offered me a small glass filled with the brown liquor and went to get the fireplace roaring again. He settled back on the couch next to me. It was my turn to place my arm over his bare shoulder, feeling the hardness and the heat of his body.

He had a quiet content look on his face. "You know, Russ, I don't want this day to end."

My heart pounded. "It doesn't have to, Ed," I said. "Well, it does, but you know what I mean."

He nodded. "You're a special young man, Russ. You know that?"

I ran my fingers along his delt muscle. "You give me too much credit, Coach, but thanks." I tried to calm my breathing. It was just the sound of the fire and the snow had made everything outside dead quiet. "A while ago, you said I could say anything and you wouldn't just me." It was a question as much as a statement.

"I meant it, Russ."

I squeezed his shoulder. "I guess I'm pretty young still... but I've never felt things click with another guy like they have with you."

"Not even with your boyfriends?" Ed asked quietly.

"Not even with my boyfriends," I said. "Listen, I know that probably came off weird and clingy and..."

"Russ..." Ed interrupted me. "Will you go on a date with me?" I could hear the tension and anxiety in his voice and when he turned to me I could see it in his eyes, too. "Sometime this week, before you go back..."

"I don't want to get you in trouble, Ed," I said. "You know, with your job or anything."

"We'll figure that out," he said. "But you didn't answer my question."

I realized I'd been afraid not of my answer but how much I wanted to give it. "Yes, I'd love that, Ed."

"Good," he said, patting my leg.

We kissed, softly. I pushed my tongue into his mouth first this time.

When we parted we had goofy grins on our faces.

"You know..." Coach S said as he traced his hand up my pectoral muscle and over my neck. "Even if people do find out or there's any gossip... it'll be so fucking worth it."

I laughed, only to have Coach cut me off with another kiss, guiding me back down to a reclining position on his couch.

THE END?

[waitimcomingtoo]

Some Light Voyeurism

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you’re mean and Peter likes that, so he stalks you while you’re on a date

Masterlist

“Did you guys check online and see who your lab partner is yet for Professor Lind’s class?”

“Not yet. Did you?” Peter asked Ned as he opened his laptop.

“Yeah. I’m with some dude named Michael Morbius. He sounds like a total doof wad.”

“Hey. That’s not nice.” Peter chuckled. “It’s says I’m with some girl named Y/n L/n.”

“Oh no. You got Y/n as a lab partner?” Neds eyes widened.

“Is that bad?” Peter worried.

“Dude, she’s like the most popular girl in school.“ MJ told him.

“Really? I didn’t realize popularity was still a thing in college.” Peter said, mostly to himself.

“It is. And she’s the face of it. Good luck man. That girl is gonna eat you alive.” Ned sighed and shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard that she’s a total bitch. She’s mean to everyone.” Ned whispered as he looked over his shoulder to where you and your group of friends were sitting.

“She’s never been mean to me.” MJ shrugged.

“That’s because you’re a girl. But I’ve seen her make men cry. Even professors.” Ned replied.

“Well I like her. She calls it like she sees it and doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit. I think it’s pretty cool actually.” MJ said in your defense.

“You’ll think it’s less cool when she bullies Peter into doing the whole project. You know how fragile Peter is. She’s gonna destroy him.” Ned whispered loudly.

“Oh no. The first project isn’t due for another two months. That means there’s a lot to do for it. How am I gonna survive two months with this girl?” Peter groaned.

“You’re not.” MJ snorted.

“It’s been nice knowing you, man.” Ned said and patted Peters back. Peter frowned and looked over his shoulder to get a better look at you. He leaned in a little so that he could hear what you and your friends were talking about. One of your friends was talking and he could see you rolling your eyes at her.

“I hate when girls say this but it’s so true for me. I’ve just always gotten along better with boys. You can even ask my mom. Like when I was little, all my friends were boys. It’s the same way now. I’ve always gotten along with them better than girls. Girls are so much drama, you know? And all they talk about is makeup and their clothes and their hair. Like, I would honestly much rather talk about the economic state of the world. But girls never want to talk about that. That’s why I honestly prefer boys.” Your friend, Gretchen, told your friend group. Peter could hear you let out a little groan before throwing on a fake smile.

“Hey Gretchen?” You asked.

“Yeah?” Gretchen answered.

“Can you shut the fuck the up?”

“What?” Gretchen laughed in shock.

“It’s just that nobody cares and you’re lying.” You shrugged. The girls at the table exchanged a look as Gretchen sputtered a few times.

“I’m not lying. You can literally ask my mom.”

“Why the fuck would I ask your mom?” You asked. “I don’t know her like that.”

“I’m not lying.” Gretchen laughed again as her face turned bright red.

“If you hate girls so much, then how come you’re sitting at a table full of girls right now? And how come I’ve never seen you talk to a guy? Name one guy friend you have.”

“Psh. Noah.” Gretchen said like it was obvious.

“Noah? Who’s Noah?” You laughed in surprise.

“He doesn’t go here. He’s my boy best friend. We like grew up together.” Gretchen answered as her eyes darted around.

“Well can I see a picture of this Noah?”

“I don’t have any.” Gretchen said quietly.

“Then pull up his Instagram.” You shrugged.

“He doesn’t have one. And honestly, I want to delete mine. Social media drains me.” Gretchen said and out a hand over her heart.

“How does social media drain you?” You laughed again. “I’ve seen you get kicked out of class three different times because you posted your BeReal during a lecture.”

“I’m different now. That was in the past.” Gretchen stated.

“That was this morning.” You reminded her.

“Whatever. This is why I don’t hang out with girls. Too much drama.” Gretchen scoffed and got up. She brushed past Peter, bumping his shoulder as she went. You made eye contact with Peter when she did this and gave him an apologetic smile. He turned bright red and smiled back, falling for you right then and there.

After school that day, Peter waited by the bus stop with his earbuds in. He noticed someone out of the corner of his eye and looked up just as a man approached him.

“Excuse me, young man. Do you speak Spanish?” The man asked Peter. Peter tensed up, always feeling anxious when he had to talk to strangers.

“Um, no.” Peter gulped.

“Me either.” The man replied. “Would you like to meet the mother of my children?”

“No thank you.” Peter smiled nervously.

“You seem really strong. Can I feel your bicep?” The man asked and reached out to touch Peter. Before the man could touch him, you approached by Peters side.

“Hey. Are you ready to go?” You asked and linked your arm through Peters.

“Yeah. Excuse me, sir. I have to go.” Peter immediately went along with whatever you were doing and walked away with you. You kept your arm linked through his until you made your way to the next bus stop a block away.

“Thanks for that. I never know what to say to strangers.” Peter thanked you once you were at the next stop.

“No problem. Girls have to stick with girls, right?” You said with a kind smile.

“I’m not a girl.” Peter told you, making your smile drop.

“Oh my god. I thought you were a lesbian. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I honestly get that a lot.” Peter admitted, making you laugh.

“I think it’s the jacket. And the haircut.” You told him through a laugh.

“Oh.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his jacket.

“Dude, it’s not a bad thing. Lesbians literally rule the world.” You told him with the upmost sincerity.

“Thats true.” He said with a soft smile. You looked at each other for a moment until your eyes drifted behind him.

“Hold that thought. What the fuck are you looking at?” You asked angrily. Peter turned around and saw a guy staring at you like you were something to eat.

“You. Have I see you before?” The man asked as he walked towards you. You wrapped your arm around Peters again and took a step back.

“How would I know who you’ve seen before?”

“I think I would’ve remembered a face like.” The man flirted, making you gag a little.

“So then your original question was pointless and you wasted our time.” You stated, making Peter hold back a laugh.

“You have a little attitude, don’t you? I like that.” The man smiled and took a step closer to you.

“Excuse me for a second. Some men were born without the ability to take a hint.” You said to Peter before turning back to the man.

“Look dude, no one ever fell in love with the balding loser who hit on them at the bus stop. I was standing here, having conversation with someone when you interrupted. Nothing about my body language made it seem like I was open to you coming over here to speaking to me. I’m not interested in or your wispy little mustache. In fact, I could probably grow a better one myself.”

“Uh, what?” The man laughed in confusion.

“Honestly, I’m not sure why you haven’t walked away yet. Because what do you have to offer me other than the juice stain around your mouth and a low credit score?” You asked with a shrug.

“Damn. You could’ve just said you weren’t interested.” The man grumbled.

“And you could’ve minded your business and never come up to me in the first place. Have you ever noticed that most women stand behind the pillars at the train station or against the wall at bus stops? It’s because they don’t want to be seen by men like you for their own safety. So you staring at me like I’m the next girl you’re gonna skin and eat is not appreciated.”

“I should’ve known you and your lesbian friend were a bunch of crazy feminists.” The man scoffed and looked between you and Peter.

“The craziest. Now fuck off.” Peter stated. The man rolled his eyes at you and finally left you alone.

“Peter Parker. That was unexpectedly awesome.” You turned to him with a smile once the man was gone.

“You know my name?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Of course I do, lab partner.” You said with a wink. Before Peter could respond, the bus pulled up. Peter sighed a little in disappointment as the doors to the bus opened.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.” You called as Peter went up the steps of the bus.

“See you tomorrow.” Peter smiled as the doors shut.

When tomorrow came, Peter spent his lunch period staring at you with a dreamy smile on his face.

“You were wrong about Y/n. She’s really cool.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin on his hand. Ned turned around to see what Peter was looking at, which was you on the phone with your manager.

“I need you to come in tonight to cover Brian’s shift.” You manger said over the phone.

“Can’t. I have plans.” You told him.

“You have to. We have no one else working. Jenny was gonna do it but she pulled out.”

“Your dad should’ve pulled out.” You said before hanging up.

“Is she?” Ned asked sarcastically.

“Yes. Shut up. I love her.” Peter stated.

“Love her? You spoke to her for the first time yesterday.” Ned reminded him.

“Yes, and that was all it took.” Peter said simply.

“I don’t know dude. She’s mean.” Ned pointed out.

“Yeah, but in a hot way.” Peter insisted and went back to staring at you. He didn’t mean to, but he could hear your conversation and with his enhanced hearing.

“You’re meeting Danny’s parents tonight, right?” One of your friends asked you, making Peter frown.

“Yep. It’s my first time meeting them. I’m kinda nervous.” You told your friends.

“Who’s Danny?” Peter asked Ned.

“You mean Danny Fenton? Her boyfriend?” Ned asked.

“What? She has a boyfriend?” Peters face crumpled as he looked at you again.

“I don’t think they’ve been together long. Just a few weeks maybe. But he’s super popular.”

“He’s popular too? Since when are people popular in college?” Peter grumbled. He got an idea suddenly and his expression went from upset to intrigued.

“Oh no. What are you thinking about?” Ned asked him.

“I was just thinking that I don’t know much about this Danny guy. Maybe Spiderman should visit her on her date to make sure he’s safe.” Peter shrugged.

“Peter. No. No more stalking. We’re still not allowed back on the street Taylor Swift lives on.” Ned reminded him.

“This won’t be like that time. And we were barely stalking Taylor.” Peter insisted.

“Peter, no.” Ned whined. Peter looked at you again and felt his heart ache with how much he wanted you.

“Peter yes.” Peter decided.

That night, Peter found himself perched in a tree outside of Daniel Fenton’s house. He was dressed in his suit and watching you through Danny’s window. You were sitting down at the dinning room table with Danny’s parents and Peter could hear your heart beating with anxiety. Peter pulled his mask off so that he could get a better look but already didn’t like was he was seeing.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Peter grumbled as he got comfortable in the tree.

“Well.” Danny’s mother smiled sweetly as you and gestured to the casserole sitting in a dish in the center of the table.

“Well?” You repeated in confusion.

“Sweetheart, Danny is waiting.” She said and looked at the casserole again.

“For what?”

“For you to make him a plate.” She said like it was obvious. Peter saw your face go from a polite smile to having murder behind your eyes.

“The food is on the table in front is us. I think he can make himself a plate.” You laughed awkwardly and looked around for support. To your surprise, everyone was looking at like you were the crazy one.

“Yes. But you’re his girlfriend. It’s what girlfriends do.” The mother repeated as her smile shifted to a stern look.

“It’s not what I do.” You smiled sweetly in return as your eyes shot daggers at her.

“It is now.” She said sternly. “Make Danny a plate of food. Now, please. He’s hungry.”

“Yeah, babe. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Can you just get me some food? It’s not that hard. Damn.” Danny mumbled. Your head slowly turned to look at him as you sickly sweet smile never dropped. Peter let out an excited laugh and watched closer to see what your reaction would be.

“If it’s not that hard, do it yourself.” You’re said, batting your eyelashes at him while maintaining your poise.

“I just sat down. Come on. I’m starving.” Danny whined and held his plate out to you. You looked at the mom again, who was looking at you with disproval.

“He’s starving.” His mom repeated and handed you the spoon for the casserole. Your smile dropped as you took the spoon from her.

“So why don’t you get off your ass and go get some food?” You said loudly and looked at Danny.

“Do not raise your voice at my son.” The mother snapped at you.

“Don’t raise your voice at me. Or we’re gonna have a problem Debby.” You snapped back and pointed the spoon at her. Debby looked down at the spoon before slowly looking up at you.

“Sweetheart, please. Don’t be difficult. Can you just go make my baby a plate?” Debby asked with a falsely calm voice.

“Your “baby” is a grown ass man. If he’s hungry, he can get food himself.”

“You are his girlfriend. It is your job now.”

“He’s not a helpless little baby. He can is perfectly capable and picking up the spoon and serving himself some food.”

“Make him a plate or get out of this house.” Debby said in a low voice. You stared at her for a long time as every else at the table sat in silence. Peter was on the edge of his branch, eager to see how this would play out. Finally, you held out the spoon in front of you and dropped it as if it were a microphone. Debby and the rest of his family gasped as a smile tugged at your lips.

“All right, bye.” You smiled at them all before turning to leave.

“I’ll call you!” Danny called after you.

“Don’t!” You called back in a cheery tone. Peter couldn’t see you as you walked through the house but suddenly saw the front door open.

“Oh shit. She’s coming.” Peter whispered in fear. He went to scoot back, forgetting he was in a tree. He fell out of the tree with a loud thud, landing directly in front of you. You stopped walking and gasped as Peter rolled over with a loud groan.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” You asked and helped Peter get off the ground. He had landed face down, so you had only seen the Spiderman suit and the back of his head so far.

“What? Me? Yeah. I’m fine.” Peter shrugged it off like he wasn’t aching in pain all over his body. Your expression when from concerned to shocked when you looked into his eyes.

“Peter?” You whispered in disbelief. Peters eyes widened as he reached up and touched his bare face.

“No. Not Peter. I’m his cousin. Pe…nis.” Peter stammered weakly.

“Oh, okay.” You cracked a smile. “Hey Penis. What’s up?”

Peter shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head, knowing he just messed up big time. Meanwhile, you bent down and picked up his mask before handing it to him.

“Thanks.” He smiled weakly.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled back. “Come on. Walk me to my car.”

Peter slipped his mask back on and walked beside you as the two of you made your way towards your car. You were being oddly normal about finding out his identity and it made Peter even more anxious. You reached your car and your gestured for him to get in the passenger seat, which Peter complied.

“This is a really nice Prius.” Peter said once you were inside.

“I know.” You deadpanned, making Peter gulp in fear.

“You can take your mask off. No one can see you in here.” You said in a soft tone. Peter nodded his head before tugging his mask off again. You looked him up and down for a second before smiling.

“Were you up in that tree?” You asked him and pointed to the tree outside Danny’s house.

“No.” Peter lied quickly.

“There’s a branch in your hair.” You pointed out.

“It’s to keep my bangs off my forehead.”

“Oh. I usually use a headband for that.”

“I lost mine so.” Peter shrugged and looked away, making you laugh. He relaxed a little when he heard you laughing and settled into your passenger seat.

“So you used a branch from the tree outside my boyfriends house? Makes sense.” You nodded.

“Yeah. He has really good branches for that type of thing.” Peter said, knowing you didn’t believe him.

“I’m sure he does. But I also saw you fall out of said tree, so I’m thinking maybe you’re not telling me the whole truth.” You smiled teasingly, making Peter shrink down in his seat and covered his face.

“Right. Forgot about that.” Peter mumbled in embarrassment.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Were you stalking me?” You asked in a casual tone. Peter knew he was already caught and had no use lying.

“A little.” He admitted.

“Just a little? So not fully stalking?” You asked sarcastically, making him groan.

“No. Not fully stalking. Just some light voyeurism.”

“Aw. Peter.” You chuckled. “You don’t know what that word means, do you?”

“Yes I do. It means to watch somebody through their window.” Peter insisted.

“No, honey. It doesn’t.” You smiled sympathetically and shook your head.

“Yes it does.” Peter frowned and pulled out his phone. He googled the word quickly and felt his stomach drop when he read what it actually meant.

“So it turns out I didn’t know what that word meant.” Peter said simply, making you laugh again.

“I figured.” You shrugged. Peter looked at you for a minute, wondering why you weren’t more freaking out about what was happening. You just caught him stalking your date in his Spiderman suit and yet you seemed completely unfazed.

“So, you probably have a lot of questions.” Peter said and looked down at his suit.

“Eh. Not really.” You shrugged. “I’m assuming you developed a crush on me after our encounter at the bus stop and wanted to see what I was doing.”

“Well, yeah. But the suit and the tree? That doesn’t concern you?”

“I’m not really shocked by that either. I’ve seen you scale fences without touching them. And the only times Spiderman has been spotted outside New York was Washington DC during the decathlon tournament, a team which you or a part of. And in Europe while we were on a school trip there. A school trip you were always mysteriously missing from.”

“Damn. You peeled the onion all the way to the middle didn’t you?” Peter mumbled when he realized you had him completely figured out.

“It’s okay. Don’t feel bad. It was only a hunch that you were Spiderman until I watched you fall out of a tree in front of my boyfriends house dressed in the literal Spiderman suit.”

“That’s pretty much a dead giveaway, huh?” Peter laughed a little.

“Pretty much.” You scrunched your nose and nodded. You gave one last look at Danny’s house before starting your car and driving away.

“So did you hear any of that back there?” You asked Peter.

“Yes. All of it. I was up there for a while.” Peter admitted.

“I’m worried about what you constitute as full stalking.” You laughed when you remembered Peter had told you he was only doing some “light voyeurism”.

“Okay, maybe I was fully stalking you. Maybe. But you’ve been on my mind ever since the bus stop and I wanted to see what your stupid boyfriend looked like.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh again. You liked the chemistry between you and Peter and took the long way home just to spend more time with him.

“And what did you think now that you’ve seen him?”

“I think that your stupid boyfriend is also your stupid ugly boyfriend.” Peter mumbled.

“Well after tonight, I can assure you that he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” You looked over your shoulder at him with a smile.

“Well that’s good news.” Peter returned the smile. You looked back at the road again but kept your smile on. You stopped at a red light and Peter looked over at you just to admire the way you looked under the street lights.

“Just so you know, my mom is super dead. So she would never ask you to make me a plate of food.” Peter told you. You burst out laughing and playfully hit him in the chest.

“Good. Because I would never make you one. And I would fight your dead mom if she tried to make me.” You deadpanned, making Peter smile at your shared sense of humor.

“I bet she’d really enjoy that fight. In fact, I know she’d really like you. She was a bitch too.” Peter told you, smile instantly dropping when he realized what he had said.

“You think I’m a bitch?” You gasped playfully but looked honored.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Peter said quickly. “I mean, I did. But I didn’t mean for it to sound mean. I just mean you speak your mind and stand up for yourself and I really like that. My mom was the same way. She didn’t take shit from anybody. You reminded me of her back there at Danny’s house. At the bus stop too. I think….I think she would’ve loved you.”

You pulled in front of your apartment building just then and unbuckled your seatbelt so that you could turn to look at Peter. He was worried he had just said way too much, after all he did just compare a girl he barely knew to his dead mother, but you were once again unfazed. You gave him a soft smile before reaching over to take his hand.

“Thanks for saying all of that. Sounds like it’s an honor to be compared to her.” You said and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yeah. She was a pretty cool lady.” Peter smiled sadly and looked down at your intertwined hands.

“So you like that I’m mean to people and I remind you of your mom? Sounds like you’ve got some kinks just begging to be discovered.” You said and clicked your tongue.

“Don’t forget the light voyeurism.” Peter sighed.

“Who could forget that?” You chuckled. You looked at each other for moment until Peter frowned.

“If you have a car, why were you at the bus stop?” He wondered.

“I wasn’t at the bus stop. I was walking past the bus stop when I saw you needed help. Did you see me get on the bus, dumbass?” You asked him angrily before cracking a smile. Peter smiled too when he realized you were just joking.

“Do you think I could take you on a date? To make up for the one you just walked out of?” Peter used all his courage to ask.

“I mean, I never actually ate tonight. And unless you had snacks up in that tree, I’m guessing you didn’t either. We could go somewhere now.” You suggested, surprisingly looking just as vulnerable as Peter did.

“Want to go get pizza or something? There’s a place a few blocks from here that makes really good pineapple pizza.”

“Pineapple pizza is an abhorrent crime against humanity.” You said calmly.

“That’s just not true.”

“You can’t put a sweet fruit on something savory like a hot pizza.”

“Yes you can. People do it all the time.”

“They should stop.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“You need to open your heart to the wonderful world of pineapple on pizza. Have you ever even tried it?”

“I don’t need to try it to know that it’s disgusting.”

“Yes you do!” Peter laughed. “You can’t say it’s gross if you’ve never even tried it.”

“Okay. Well sorry for having great tits and a right opinion.” You mumbled and went to start your car again. You pulled the keys out of the ignition suddenly and looked over at Peter.

“I don’t want to drive to the pizza place.” You told him.

“Oh, okay. We could get something else.”

“No, I mean I want to walk there.”

“Oh. Why?” Peter wondered.

“Because you can’t hold my hand if we drive there.” You said through a shy smile.

“I mean, I technically could. You could just hold my hand with the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel.” Peter explained, causing you to stare at him for a long time.

“Hey Peter?” You asked after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to shut the fuck up and hold my hand?” You asked sweetly.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I really do.”

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[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Behind the Camera

A/N: I feel like I've been working on this one-shot for forever. . .Anyway, this all started because I had a dream about Eddie and Jonathan.

Summary: How Jonathan knew Eddie, what he really thinks of Steve, and the possibility of what might happen in season 5.

They didn't know how Jonathan knew Eddie, not even Will, who had been there in the music store the following spring after Will had gone missing. He remembered how Will talked about Eddie, who had taken the baseball that had been meant for Will. Eddie had made Will feel better for being called zombie boy. He made Will feel like there was nothing wrong with who he was . He still remembered the words Eddie had said to Will.

"To hell with what they think," Eddie had said. "They can call you whatever they want. That doesn't mean a single thing about them. At the end of the day, you're the only person who knows who you are. . .besides, Zombie Boy? As far as nicknames go, that one's metal as shit."

Then Eddie let know that when Will was ready for high school, there would be a place for him at Hellfire. It had touched Will so much and, in doing so, touched Jonathan. It had thrown Jonathan off, the wave of affection he had felt for the other guy. He thought the guy was cute, Jonathan realized. Later, when he got home, he thought of Eddie's smile, his dimples, and warm brown eyes. He also realized that Eddie hadn't been the first guy he thought was cute. . .fucking Steve Harrington, the guy who was dating the girl Jonathan had a crush on for forever. God, why did things have to be so complicated? Maybe that's why Jonathan took him up on his offer to be his first customer. Eddie was less complicated than Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. He was still complicated but less so.

He had gotten two different addresses when he asked around about Eddie's place. . .the one on Philadelphia that had burned down and the one he now lived in. . .Forest Hills trailer park. It hadn't looked as daunting as he thought it would be. And when Eddie opened the door, he was wearing sweats that hung loosely on his hips and no shirt. Jonathan remembered that he had gotten so flustered that he had nearly forgotten why he came there. He could only utter one word.

"Drugs," Jonathan said, and Eddie laughed.

"Anything you're looking for in particular?" Eddie asked and then noted the way Jonathan looked at him. "Drugs, I mean. I'm up for negotiating on anything else."

Jonathan hadn't even known what to say to that, so Eddie had just let him in. Maybe Eddie knew how nervous he had been because he made himself comfortable and just started talking about music. It had been so easy to talk with Eddie. It had been a while before they had gotten to the drugs part of the conversation, but when they did, Jonathan felt comfortable in revealing he hadn't really done as much weed before. It had surprised Jonathan when Eddie revealed he had been quite new to this as well. . .that he had to learn how to do it with Reefer Rick and then some. . .

"Do you know what shotgunning is?" Eddie had asked.

"Isn't that what you do with beer?" Jonathan asked.

"Different kind of shotgunning," Eddie grinned.

"Oh," Jonathan blushed.

Eddie grinned and proceeded to show him what shotgunning was. Of course, Jonathan had to go and close the gap between them. Eddie pulled back with a laugh.

"Okay, that's kissing. . .but we can do that too," Eddie said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

After that, they fell into an easy pattern. Kissing, talking, and shotgunning with Eddie's music playing in the background. He had complained about how unfair it was that he was the only one shirtless, and Jonathan had been quick to rectify that, and then they kissed again. Jonathan remembered the way he felt, lying on the bed with Eddie on top of him, with his hands trailing up his sides. After kissing for a while, they relaxed onto the bed. Jonathan had told him about how he always thought that it was just women for him, and Eddie told him the same thing. Then Jonathan talked about Steve Harrington. . .it was a stupid slip-up that Eddie caught him on.

"Ugh, I can't believe it. . .he's a jock!" Jonathan had complained.

"And it's a known fact that jocks are hot, annoyingly so. . .at least I think so. Cheerleaders, basketball players, unfortunately, they do it for me. It's even better if you picture them switching uniforms. . .the ladies in the basketball shorts and the men in the cheerleader skirts. . .delicious," Eddie said.

"You're a freak," Jonathan laughed.

"Takes one to know one Byers," Eddie had said and Jonathan had laughed in agreement.

"Well, Nancy isn't a jock," Jonathan said.

"Wasn't she on the cheerleading team for a short while?" Eddie asked.

"What? No, why would you say that?" Jonathan asked.

"Because she was," Eddie said. "Yeah, with Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, yeah, Chrissy Cunningham," Eddie groaned, blushing.

"Why are our types preppy jocks?" Jonathan laughed.

"It's a mystery, man," Eddie cackled.

Jonathan had left feeling better than he had done in a while, thinking about what his mother said about feeling like he was alone in this world. He didn't feel like it then, and maybe she had been right. He had never been alone. His mother had known he had made a new friend but not what he was doing. Kissing had escalated to shedding more clothing, touching, and using their mouths in other ways other than kissing. For a while, Nancy and Steve had been pushed to the back of his mind. When they weren't together, they were just lying naked in bed talking about their families. . .talking about their deadbeat dads while Eddie traced patterns into his back. Days turned to weeks, and then weeks turned into months before it all came crashing down. Jonathan was spread out naked in Eddie's bed with Eddie's face between his legs. It just came out. . .no, not that.

"I love you."

Eddie froze before pulling off of Jonathan and moving back. He stared at him for a moment before he began freaking out. He wiped Jonathan off before pulling on his own clothes. Jonathan sat up and opened his mouth to say something but Eddie beat him to the punch.

"I don't think we should do this anymore. . .or see each other," Eddie had said.

"I can take it back," Jonathan said quickly.

That hadn't been the answer either. Eddie looked in his eyes.

"Did you mean it?" He asked.

"Yes," Jonathan said, but he wasn't sure.

"I'm not where you are, man. I don't think I ever will be. . .I mean, who knows, but you deserve better than that. You deserve someone who's ready to be your boyfriend. . .or your girlfriend," Eddie said. "I'm not."

Jonathan could probably read him better than anyone or, at least, he thought. He wasn't going to push him, but he could see how scared he was. His father's temper swirled around inside him, and for a moment, he recalled that time in the woods when he yelled at Nancy. Maybe he did love Eddie, or maybe in the back of his mind, he was still thinking of Steve and Nancy. He didn't want to hurt Eddie either. Jonathan cupped Eddie's face and kissed him, pouring everything they had into the kiss. Neither one of knew that it would be the last time they'd kiss. Jonathan broke it and pulled on his clothes before walking out the front door of his trailer. When he walked into his house, he saw his mother talking to Hopper. She was busy, so he had managed to escape to his room, shut the door, and turn on his music. The summer of 84 had ended, and so had his relationship with Eddie.

Now, a couple of years later. . .with the end of the world looming over their heads, Jonathan was sitting on the steps of Hopper's cabin and talking to Nancy. She had stayed silent the entire time he had talked about Eddie. Jonathan sniffed as Nancy rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," Jonathan said. "Or about the acceptance letter."

"That part doesn't matter right now. I can be pissed at you later," Nancy said softly. "I'm sorry about Eddie."

"It was the last time we spoke. I should have tried to speak to him before I left. Should have tried being friends with him, at least," Jonathan said, wiping his eyes.

"We all had a lot going on, Jonathan," Nancy said softly. "You couldn't have known it would have ended up like this."

"Living in this cursed town? I should have," Jonathan mumbled.

"Does your mother know?" She asked softly.

"I never told her," Jonathan replied.

"Maybe you should," Nancy said. "Everything else we can talk about later. Right now, you need to grieve and let the others plan."

Jonathan buried his head into Nancy's shoulder and sobbed. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said softly.

They heard the door open behind them, and someone stepped out. Neither one of them turned around. Joyce stepped into view, sitting on the other side of her son.

"Jonathan, what's wrong?" Joyce asked.

Jonathan pulled away from Nancy and turned his mother.

"I knew Eddie," he said.

Then, in messy, heartbreaking sobs, Jonathan told his mother what he told Nancy.

"Oh, sweetheart," Joyce said softly and pulled him into her arms.

"I'm never going to talk to him again," Jonathan cried. "I should have tried harder."

"Oh, Jonathan, Nancy's right, life got in the way, and you didn't know what would have happened," Joyce said.

"I'm fucking tired. Not just because of all the bullshit with the Upside Down but the people in this town. . .just people who hated him for no fucking reason and in the end, they were just. . .they hunted him, Mom and I had no idea. . .he must have been so scared. . .they were looking for any reason to hate him, to hate people like us," Jonathan said. "The crazy thing is. . .even after all the shit they gave him, he loved this town, and I think it always broke him that they didn't love him back. He wasn't perfect but he was so good. . ."

"Oh, honey," Joyce said. "I have no clue what to say right now, other than to let you know that I'm here. We're going to save this town, and then we're going to let them know that they were so wrong about Eddie. I'll make sure they know."

"I love you, mom."

"Oh, I love you so, so much," Joyce said.

They heard the door open behind them, and they all stood up. Will, Hopper, and El came spilling out. Will had tears in his eyes.

"You were kind of sobbing pretty loudly," he said, and before Jonathan could feel embarrassed, Will threw himself in his arms.

Then it was El hugging him as well. Jonathan hated how they both understood what it was like to be treated this way. . .like freaks. . .like monsters. They didn't deserve to be treated like they didn't have a place here or anywhere else. His brother and sister deserved a place in this world more anything. He wanted them to know that they weren't alone, and hopefully, they felt it, just as much as he did. Hugging them tight, Jonathan didn't feel so alone, soothing the ache in his heart that would never fully go away, but he did feel better. When he pulled out of the hug, he found himself being pulled into Hopper's arms. He was the first man in his life who had come through for Jonathan, more than his own father ever did. He came through for Will more Lonnie ever could. And when Hopper uttered the words that Jonathan had secretly hoped to hear from dad, he broke down again.

"I'm proud of you, kid. . .and I am so sorry."

It helped, though, afterward, having something to focus on. He used his fury and his hate to channel it into helping people, into helping the town keep Creel out of their heads. Suddenly, though, he was an anonymous voice on the radio. Telling the town about Eddie, about what kind of man he was, and how he took kids under his wing. . .how he gave them a place to belong. He talked about how D&D was just a board game, how in many ways it was a lot like basketball. He told them how Eddie became a target to protect his friends. He told them about all the ways that Eddie fucked up because of his dad, because the people in this town hated him based on the fact that he looked like his father. Jonathan went on to talk about how just because people had different interests doesn't mean that they had to be enemies. All Eddie wanted to do was play his music and D&D with his friends, but he also wanted a safe place for them. He wasn't interested in hurting anyone. . .he couldn't even kill the spiders he was desperately afraid of. Then he talked about Wayne, Eddie's true father. . .the things Eddie had told to him confidence. He told them what Wayne had said, how he had loved Eddie more than his own father ever could.

"To hell with what they think! You can't walk through life shaking yourself to pieces over how other people think you should be. They'll always try to fit you in some box - angel, devil. Hero, villain. Fuckup, saint. But we ain't meant for boxes, not 'til we're dead in the ground. You're the only person who knows who you are. So stop trying to fit yourself into one of their boxes and just let yourself be you."

Then Jonathan told them about Eddie's mom, how she died when Eddie was six, and his love of music came from her. Jonathan played them the song that Elizabeth used to sing to him at bedtime: Hey, Jude. As he let that play, Nancy came in with tears in her eyes. He knew when she managed to choke out a name.

"Chrissy," Nancy had said and couldn't find herself to say much else. "I'm sorry."

Jonathan had pulled Nancy into his arms and held her tightly, letting the music wash over them. She had lost Barb, then Fred, and she had also lost Chrissy in the same way that he had lost Eddie.

"We can't lose, Steve," Jonathan said. "We have to talk to him."

"I know," Nancy whispered and paused. "It was worth it. . .the time we spent with them."

Before they knew, months had passed, and it had become a year. It was fucking crazy how they were making everyone still go to school after everything. Dustin had bitched about it to Steve on the car ride back to the radio station which had become their base of operation. They had wanted to ride with them alone, but Dustin had beat them to the front seat. Robin was working with Joyce at the hospital, looking out for Max and hoping that the soldiers wouldn't do anything nefarious with her. They all switched shifts looking out for Max, Nancy even going so far as to volunteer as a candy striper.

"You know, Dustin, we had hoped to use this opportunity to talk to Steve about something," Nancy said, leaning forward.

"If you're talking about the whole RV thing with the nuggets and the whole you've always been there thing, we kind of already know about it," Dustin said.

"Seriously, how?!" Steve asked with a groan. "Wait. . .I already know. . .Robin."

"It kind of sort of just tumbled out of her," Dustin said.

"Yes, I am familiar with my platonic soulmate, Dustin," Steve said with a sigh.

"Is that what you call each other?" Nancy asked, and Steve hummed. "That's cute."

"Hey, by the way, Jonathan, how'd you know all that stuff about Eddie?" Dustin asked.

"I was friends with him a while back," Jonathan said. "I mean, Argyle wasn't the first one I used to smoke weed with."

"What happened?" Dustin asked.

"We, uh, just kind of went our separate ways," Jonathan said and paused, looking at Nancy. "I think I'm just going to say it."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Look, Steve is probably going to tell Robin, and apparently, she's got a big mouth," Jonathan said.

"No, it's more like she's got a loose mouth. . .ugh, that didn't sound right," Steve frowned.

"Well, I don't think she's going to spill the beans about this," Nancy said.

"How do you know?" Jonathan asked.

"I just have a feeling," Nancy smiled.

"You have a feeling about what?" Steve asked, looking in the rear view mirror, and she smiled at him. "Nancy?"

"I think you know," she replied.

"Okay. . .well, Eddie and I were more than just friends," Jonathan said.

"You were best friends?" Dustin asked.

"Okay, you're adorable," Nancy said and Steve snorted.

"Eddie and I had a casual relationship," Jonathan said.

"Oh. . .oh, shit," Dustin said. "I mean, that sucks. . .I mean, not that you're gay. . .but that you lost Eddie."

"I'm not gay, man. I always sort of knew, but I recently learned there was a name for it when I went to California," Jonathan said. "I'm bisexual. I like men and women."

"Woah, cool, you can do that?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah," he laughed.

"Hey, Jonathan, thanks for telling us," Dustin said softly.

He reached between the seats and hugged Jonathan. He buried his face into his shoulder, sniffling.

"I'm sorry you lost Eddie," Jonathan said.

Dustin sat back, wiping his face. It was silent for a moment. Jonathan shared a look with Nancy, unsure of what to say next. Steve was quiet, looking contemplative. He hadn't said anything about what Jonathan had revealed. He opened his mouth, feeling a lot like in this moment what happened with Eddie. Maybe they weren't on the same page, like Nancy and Jonathan had been hoping he was. Maybe he only wanted Nancy. Although he hadn't exactly told Steve about his feelings for him, he felt like he had told him enough. . .maybe too much.

"So, there were reports of a rather large winged creature flying around. . .bigger than the bats," Dustin said. "Mike believes it's a baby dragon."

"I didn't know you could do that," Steve blurted out.

"Believe in baby dragons? You can believe in anything that you want to, Steve," Dustin scoffed. "Of all of Mike's hangups, that's the one you have a problem with?"

"What? No! Robin and I believe it's a baby dragon, too," Steve said. "That's not what I'm talking about. I mean, liking men and women. . .I just - I sort of always had this inner panic like I had to choose one or the other. . .it just felt like I was pretending sometimes, and I never thought about it. I never went - Hey, I could do both! I could like both! And it was easier to pretend when I was wearing my facade of King Steve back then - Holy shit, I think I'm like the same!"

"Steve, I think you're hyperventilating," Nancy said with wide eyes. "Pull over."

Steve pulled over on the side of the road and climbed out of the car to get some air. Jonathan and Nancy followed him, leaving Dustin in the car. Jonathan watched him for a moment before hugging him tightly. Steve laughed before wrapping his arms around him.

"I'm really freaking out. I mean, I am, but I feel more excited than anything else," Steve said, and then he whispered in Jonathan's ear. "I think you're hot, I always have, and I think I've always liked you - I always liked seeing you and Nancy. . .when I realized you slept together, a part of me wished I had been there."

Jonathan pulled back and smiled at him.

"When I got with Eddie, I was trying my hardest to get over Nancy and you. I thought I was a freak for liking you both," he said. "Steve?"

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice thick with emotions.

"Is there any room for me in your RV?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, definitely, definitely," Steve said with a goofy grin on his face.

He cupped Jonathan's face and crashed his lips to his. They wrapped his arms around Jonathan, pulling him close and fully enjoying the feeling of his lips against Jonathan's. The other man eagerly accepted the kiss, his nails digging into his Steve’s back. After so long, this was finally happening. Jonathan couldn't believe it. Finally, they pulled apart and let Nancy squeeze in between them so she could kiss Steve too. Jonathan snorted when Steve giggled against her mouth.

"What was that?" Nancy asked.

"Sorry, I'm just so happy," Steve said.

"Can we get a dog first before decided on any kids yet?" Nancy asked.

"Of course, the RV would be yours too. Add anything you want to, and I love dogs! The six kids are definitely negotiable. I would never have us get Jonathan pregnant six times. His hips are nice, but they're not very childbearing," Steve said, and Nancy giggled.

"Fuck you, they're very childbearing," Jonathan pouted.

"So, is the dog before or after we get illegally married?" Steve teased.

"After," Nancy said with a grin.

"Did you just get engaged?!" Dustin asked as he popped his head out the window. "Steve went from having a sexual identity crisis to kissing you guys to getting married! I think I just got whiplash!"

"Yeah. I think we did," Jonathan said, laughing before turning back to Steve. "You said earlier that I was lucky to have Nancy now, I'm lucky to have you both. There isn't anyone else. It's always been you and Nancy."

"Aww. . .but okay, that is not how you're proposing to my big brother," Dustin said. "He deserves flowers and candles. . .the works. He should be wooed! Try again! I hope you know his favorite song!"

"You guys never warned me that little brothers would be this much work," Steve said.

"Sorry," Jonathan and Nancy laughed.

Jonathan could tell on the drive back to the radio station that Steve was quite eager to share the news with Robin. It was infectious. Jonathan was eager for Steve to tell Robin as well. It didn't happen immediately, though, not for a couple of days. Everyone was so busy trying to look over Max, trying to figure out Vecna's next attack, as well as trying to avoid the soldiers and dodge the jocks that were out for blood. They were also on the lookout for the dark flying creature that soared overhead sometime and any other creature that came from the Upside Down. Robin, Joyce, Will, Lucas, and Mike had gotten stuck at the hospital. Meanwhile, Dustin had disappeared.

"I can't believe he took off by himself," Steve said as he paced in the radio station. "Okay. What if something happens to him? When is Hopper and El getting back?"

"Steve, he's going to be fine. Dustin is smart. When he needs us, he'll come find us," Nancy said.

"I know, I know. I just hate this," Steve said.

"I know, us too," Nancy said softly.

Jonathan and Nancy wrapped their arms around him from behind, pressing their cheeks to each shoulder. Steve sighed, relaxing a bit. He turned around and pulled Nancy in for a quick kiss before doing the same with Jonathan. He pulled away when they heard the sound of the door opening, and Steve recognized Dustin's familiar footsteps. Dustin appeared. His Hellfire shirt was torn. His face was bloody and bruised. Nancy gasped.

"I just wanted to visit Eddie. When I got there, they were painting "burn in hell" on his gravestone. I just wanted them to stop. There were too many of them, but I got away. I know there's nothing buried there, but I just wanted to talk to him," Dustin said softly. "I just wanted to talk to him again."

Dustin burst into tears. Steve went to him immediately. He wrapped his arms around him, holding onto him for dear life while Dustin did the same. Steve kissed the top of his head, and Jonathan could tell that he was struggling to keep his own tears in. He wasn't so lucky. A tear dripped onto Dustin's hat. Jonathan and Nancy let them have their moment before joining in the hug. The door opened again, but they didn't stop hugging Dustin even when Hopper and El came in.

"What the hell happened?" Hopper asked when Dustin pulled away.

Dustin looked sheepish for a moment and then quickly wiped his face. He paused, unsure of what to say. El moved in front of Dustin and looked him square in the eyes, touching his face.

"What happened?" She asked sternly but gently.

"I just wanted to go to Eddie's grave, but they disfigured it. . .they messed it up. I tried to stop them, but there were too many of them," Dustin said. "I'm stupid."

"You are not stupid," El said. "They are. Mouth breathers."

"Yeah," he said, cracking a grin.

"Let's get you cleaned up," El said and grabbed his hand.

"As long as you tell me what's been bothering you lately," Dustin said.

"It is not important," she replied.

"Bullshit," he said.

They all watched as El grabbed a first aid kit and went to work cleaning up his face as best she could.

"Mike and I broke up the other day," El said.

"Hell of a time to dump you," Dustin said.

"He did not dump me. It was mutual," El sighed.

"What? Why?" He asked.

"We love each other, but it is not enough, especially since we both have feelings for other people," El said.

"Well, damn, I'm not surprised about Mike, and I can already guess who he has feelings for," Dustin frowned. "You're a complete mystery."

"You will figure it out," El said.

"Not even a hint, uh?" He asked.

El laughed and kissed his nose. Jonathan shared an amused look with Steve and Nancy.

"I think I figured it out," Jonathan said.

"Me too," Nancy and Steve said, grinning.

"Seriously, is no one going to tell me?" Dustin asked.

El cupped his face and squished his cheeks together before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"Do you still need a hint?" She asked.

"No," he laughed. "I think my day is looking up, though."

Jonathan knew what was coming next the minute that Dustin opened his mouth. The growl. Dustin realized that Hopper was still in the room and thought better of it.

"Just because you're a step up from Mike doesn't mean that I don't have my eye on you, kid," Hopper said.

"Hey, that's my brother who you're insulting," Nancy said.

"Please, you would have shot me if you didn't somewhat agree," Hopper said. "Besides, I meant a step up in partners for El."

"That's a little better, I guess," Nancy said in amusement.

"By the way, your mom is on the way from the hospital with the others," Hopper told Jonathan. "We're going to talk about everything when they get here."

"Then I guess it's our turn to look out for Max," Nancy said. "I already put on my uniform."

"Like I said, we will talk when they get here," he replied.

It wasn't long after that they came in. Lucas looked sour. . .well, they all did. Mike had a black eye, and Robin had a bleeding nose. She wiped it away with her sleeve. Nancy rolled her eyes and went to help her with it. Robin pushed past Nancy and into Steve’s arms.

"We are never getting separated ever again," Robin said. "I had no idea if you were alive or dead! Did I miss anything?"

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan shared amused looks.

"A little, but I'll tell you later," Steve said.

"Are you going to let me take care of your nose now?" Nancy asked.

"Yes, Nurse Nancy," Robin said. "Sorry."

They had all noticed that it was Will who was taking care of Mike's black eye. Apparently, they had gotten ambushed at the hospital by a pack of rabid jocks who were hellbent on hunting down any member of Hellfire. It was Robin's quick thinking who got the kids out of the way. . .mostly. Mike had gotten hit, and then Robin had taken a punch to the nose, getting in front of Mike. It was Joyce who almost scared them off, but then the large winged creature swooped down in front of them, chasing off the offenders. Once the jocks were gone, the creature took off.

"I don't know what it was, but it was definitely more humanoid, so I think we can rule out baby dragon," Mike cursed. "Damn."

"I'm sorry, did you want a fire-breathing dragon on our hands?" Robin asked.

"Well, whatever this thing is, it could be dangerous," Hopper said.

"I mean, technically, everything in the world is dangerous, but I don't think this creature is bad. It didn't feel bad to me, and it chased off the jocks," Will said.

"Well, maybe it's trying to lure us into a trap," Lucas said.

"Maybe . . .," Will said.

"I don't think that's what it is," Dustin frowned. "I think I know what it is."

Everyone went silent and looked at Dustin as he stared at the floor.

"Are you going to share with the class?" Steve asked.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," he said.

"If anyone does, I will use my powers on them," El said seriously.

"Okay, Robin, you got a good look at it. Does it look a little bit like a demobat?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah, actually, it did with the wings, gray skin, and the three tails," Robin said. "It had a bunch of dark mangled hair on top of its head."

"Well, that just proves it," Dustin said, slapping his knees. "I think the creature is. . .Eddie."

"Oh, honey, I know you miss him - " Joyce started to say.

"Really? This comes from the lady who had a theory based only on magnets and ended up being right?" Dustin asked. "You're going to doubt me?"

"Okay, yeah, you have a point. We have worked with a lot less," Joyce said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it's okay, I would have doubted me too," Dustin said. "Hell, I'm doubting myself a little. . .but I have to believe that this is Eddie. I have to."

"Well, if it is Eddie, why hasn't he come to us?" Hopper asked.

"Well, wouldn't you be a little terrified if you turned into a monster?" Lucas asked.

"That's true," Hopper said.

"We have to make him come to us. We have to get on the airwaves, keeping talking about Eddie and then we. . .use me as bait. . .imply that I'm in danger or some shit. He needs to know that we're not going to hurt him," Dustin said.

"How do we know that he's not a minion of Vecna?" Mike asked.

"That's the risk. . .we don't, but Eddie gave up his life for all of us. . .shouldn't we try and put in the same effort?" He asked.

Jonathan admired Dustin's courage and steadfast loyalty. Eddie really was lucky to have a friend like him. He really hoped that Dustin was right and that Eddie really was alive. He definitely didn't want to see him cry again. It was almost as bad as seeing Will cry. Jonathan needed to talk to Eddie again to be friends with him because while he was no longer romantically interested in him, he did want him to be a part of his life. As the three of them prepared for Dustin's plan, Robin walked over to Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Talk to me while we work, Popeye," Robin said.

"Well, I'm engaged to be engaged to Jonathan and Nancy," Steve said.

"What?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, apparently their proposal wasn't good enough for Dustin," Steve said.

"Because it wasn't," Dustin said as he walked by.

"I'm not sure if I would call it a proposal," Jonathan said sheepishly.

"Yeah, we just decided to share an entire future together, is all," Nancy said.

"That's not what I was what-ing you about," Robin said with wide eyes.

"Apparently, not as straight as we thought I was," Steve smirked. "Bisexual."

"Me too," Jonathan replied.

"Not sure what I am, but I'm definitely not straight," Nancy said and Robin raised an eyebrow at her. "Chrissy."

"Jesus. . .I'm sorry," Robin said softly, and then her eyes widened as she pointed at Jonathan. "Eddie!"

"Yeah," Jonathan said sheepishly. "Was me talking about Eddie on the radio that obvious?"

"No, not until you said something about you. . .it just makes sense," Robin said and turned to Nancy. "I am so sorry about Chrissy. How did you know her?"

"I was briefly on the cheerleading squad," Nancy said.

"Nancy Wheeler in a cheerleader uniform. . .Holy shit!" Robin exclaimed.

"Put your tongue back into your head, Buckley," Steve said in amusement.

"Look, I may prefer blondes and redheads, but I am not dumb to the attractiveness of Nancy Wheeler," Robin said and then pointed to herself. "Lesbian."

Nancy laughed and hipchecked Robin, who returned the favor with a giggle.

"Even better. . .Steve in a cheerleader uniform," Nancy said.

"Now, there's an idea," Jonathan said.

"Ugh, gag me with a spoon," Robin groaned. "I can't believe you put that image in my head."

"You two should know that I am very willing to do anything you two ask me to," Steve grinned and winked.

"Stawwwpp!" Robin groaned as Jonathan and Nancy laughed.

Before they left, Joyce approached them, looking amused at the sight of them laughing.

"Something I should know?" She asked.

Steve grinned at Jonathan, raising a questioning eyebrow. He blushed and nodded at Steve.

"Well, I'm illegally marrying your son and his girlfriend," Steve said, and Dustin cleared his throat. "That is if Dustin will let them propose to me because apparently they didn't do it right. I have apparently required an overprotective little brother."

"Maybe we should just let him plan the wedding," Jonathan laughed.

Dustin appeared at his side so suddenly that Jonathan jumped.

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Low-key! Within reason!"

"Okay! Let's go!"

They drove to the woods near the junkyard. Nancy had changed out of her candy striper uniform and into a pair of jeans along with a dark pink jacket. Jonathan took a minute to admire his partners as they stood with Dustin. God, they both looked so good. Steve with his gray white sweater and his brown jacket. Steve’s hair has pretty much stayed the same over the last few months. Nancy's hair had thickened and got longer, now spilling over her shoulders with her bangs longer as well. They looked good under the dim light of the full moon and under the glare of their flashlights. Steve turned and dug into his trunk. Jonathan took the time to admire Steve’s backside as he pulled out a familiar looking bat.

"Our baby," Nancy grinned.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"It was my bat first. Jonathan hammered in the nails, and then you both wielded it. I should point out that I haven't gotten to hold her, and I think it's Mama's turn," Nancy said as she took the bat.

"It's an inanimate object, Nance," Dustin said teasingly.

"A deadly inanimate object," she replied.

"Point taken," Dustin said. "Let's get to work."

"Are you sure about it being you, Steve?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, I'll be careful," Steve said. "Besides, you know me. . .I never get hurt."

They watched Steve slip on the mask, reassured even less by what he said. Nancy took Jonathan's hand and watched as Steve started chasing Dustin. He screamed as Steve ran after him. Nancy and Jonathan followed from a distance.

"I'm starting to think this might be the stupidest plan ever," Jonathan said.

"Well, it's the only plan," Nancy said.

Suddenly, a large creature swooped down from the sky and knocked Steve to the ground, pinning him. Steve managed to act quickly and rolled the creature onto its back, but it was quick, too. Its claws barely scraped against Steve’s side, causing him to groan loudly and roll away, but not before the creature had him pinned again. This time, Steve was on his front, his hands underneath him so he couldn't fight back. The creature raised its claw, ready to strike when Dustin screamed.

"STEEEVE!"

"STEEEVE!" Jonathan yelled out.

"STOP! STOP!" Dustin yelled out.

It wasn't stopping. Scowling, Nancy raised the bat and swung, hitting the creature in the side. It screeched and fell off of Steve.

"SON OF A BITCH!" The creature yelled.

They watched as the wings grew small and then the tail before sliding into its gray skin. Eddie Munson stood up, naked as the day he was born. He clutched his side and glared at Wheeler. Steve rolled over and took off his mask, standing up to clutch his own side.

"Welcome back from the dead, man," Steve said.

"What the hell were you doing attacking our shrimp?" Eddie asked.

"Why do you think?" Steve asked. "To get you here."

He pulled his backpack off his back and pulled out some clothes. Steve tossed Eddie a pair of sweat pants and yellow sweater. Eddie grimaced and shrugged them on.

"Eddie?" Dustin said in a soft voice.

Eddie whirled around and stared at Dustin. He stared back, his bottom lip trembling. Dustin burst into tears and threw himself into Eddie's arms. Eddie held onto him tightly, letting him cry into his chest. It was touching until Dustin squeezed him a little too tightly, and Eddie winced. He pulled back.

"Damn it, Wheeler got me good," Eddie winced.

"Well, you were asking for it. You went after our boyfriend," Nancy said and proudly held up the bat. "Naily did good."

"Naily?" Steve and Jonathan asked.

"What? It's a great name for our baby," Nancy said.

"The infamous nail bat," Eddie grinned. "And don't you worry about me, I'll heal."

"I don't think I will," Steve said.

"Shit, big boy, sorry about that," Eddie winced. "Lift up your sweater."

"What?" Steve asked.

Eddie sighed, rolled his eyes, and yanked up his sweater. Eddie spat into his hand and slapped the saliva onto Steve’s skin, smearing it around. Steve hollered and hissed. He tried to swat Eddie's hand away, but Eddie held firm. He pulled away with a grin and then waved at the others to gather around. They leaned forward and watched as Steve’s skin came back together.

"Holy shit!"

"Cool, isn't it?" Eddie asked. "I realized I could do that when I took my first drink of a deer. I felt so guilty at first, but then I realized I didn't have to kill when I saw the skin go back together."

"You're a vampire," Dustin said with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Eddie said, and licked Steve's blood off of his hands, his eyes flashing red.

Suddenly, they heard a rustle through the trees. Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and Steve quickly surrounded Dustin. El and Hopper burst through the trees.

"Holy shit. Jun - ," Hopper stared to say.

"I swear if you call me Junior, I'll bite you," Eddie grinned and flashed his fangs.

"Fair enough. It's good to see you," Hopper said. "Wish it were under better circumstances."

"When we're both not suddenly back from the dead?" Eddie asked, and he laughed.

"Are you a minion of Vecna?" El asked.

"The asshole tried to turn me into his puppet, but I didn't like forced conformity before, I'm certainly not going to like it when I'm dead. He's pretty pissed at me, so I probably shouldn't be around you guys. . . " Eddie said.

"He probably already knows. El has been keeping track of him or trying to. Besides, we're already at risk. We have a better chance with you fighting by our side," Jonathan said. "We're glad you're back."

"All of us?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

Eddie laughed and threw an arm around Jonathan's shoulder, hugging him tightly.

"Anything else happen while I was dead?" Eddie asked, looking at Nancy and Steve knowingly.

Ahead of them, El and Dustin walked hand in hand. Dustin bent down and showed her a rock that looked like a heart. El grinned and kissed him when he gave it to her.

"My sister, El, is dating Dustin now," Jonathan said in amusement.

"Well, they're fucking adorable," Eddie said.

Eddie's reunion with Mike and Lucas had been a joyous one. It was also full of tears and apologies. Eddie also took time to spit on Mike's black eye and Dustin's face. They both complained loudly that he could have just spat into a rag. After that, it was more discussion and interrogating Eddie on what Vecna wanted from him, on what he wanted from all of them. It wasn't long after that they figured out that Eddie and Vecna were connected. . .that if Vecna could get into his head, then Eddie could do the same. El encouraged him and walked him through it, using her own powers to help him.

"Okay. . .I feel like that was too easy," Eddie said softly. "Oh. . .someone else is opening the door for me. . .oh, they feel familiar. . . Chrissy! It's Chrissy. . .but how?"

"Okay, this feels like a trap," Jonathan said.

"No, I swear. . .It doesn't feel like Vecna. It feels like Chrissy. . .she's calling to me," Eddie said.

"Or maybe you want it to be her. I mean, Vecna does use our trauma against us, right?" Jonathan asked.

"Why do we keep doubting each other? If Eddie says it's Chrissy, then it's Chrissy," Dustin said, and Jonathan threw up his hands.

"But we also need to be cautious," Jonathan said.

"Okay, I can't concentrate with all this bitching," Eddie said. "Okay. . .it's not just Chrissy. . .it's all of them. . .all of his victims. . .JESUS H CHRIST! They're alive!"

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, uh, apparently, he continues to use their trauma to like boost his power or some shit but they have to be psychic themselves even if they don't know it. He found that it's better to keep them alive. The sick fuck prefers them younger. . .he's got his next target," Eddie said. "Hold on. . ."

Everyone was on the edge of their seats when the door burst open, startling everyone. Argyle came in, carrying a box of supplies.

"I come carrying gifts," Argyle said and stared at Eddie, his eyes still closed. "Hey, isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"Argyle!" Jonathan exclaimed. "You scared the shit out of us, man."

"Sorry," Argyle said, sheepishly. "I got us the supplies from the War Zone. Getting in and out of town was easy peasy, like I said. What did I miss?"

"Catch him up, Jonathan," Dustin said.

"I'm sorry, who put you in charge?" Jonathan scowled but turned to Argyle. "The bat bites turned Eddie into a vampire who can get into Henry's head, and we're trying to see what his next plan of attack is."

"Got it," Argyle said and then leaned in closer to whisper to Jonathan. "I sense that the vibes between you, Nancy, and Steve have changed."

"Uh, we can talk about that later," he replied.

"Shit! Shit! SHIT!" Eddie cursed, his eyes flying open. "Holly. . ."

"Not our Holly!" Nancy exclaimed. "Please, tell me it's not our sister."

"I can't. . ."

"FUCK!"

They all took off immediately towards the Wheelers' house. Nancy and Mike had barged into the house, startling their parents.

"Where's Holly?!" They asked.

"In her room," Karen replied.

She hadn't been in her room, though. Everyone began scrambling around the house, trying to find Holly. It was Steve who found her in the backyard, in a trance, walking toward the woods. He had been the first to reach her and managed to stop her before she could go further. Karen and Ted had followed suit. That's when they heard it. . .the growling sound. A clawed hand back handed Steve, throwing him away from Holly. The demogorgon picked up Holly. Steve got up and jumped on its back. It took off. Everyone screamed but none more so than Ted and Karen, who took off after them. Eddie had ripped off his sweater and deployed his wings, flying above them. Jonathan's heart pounded in his chest as he ran beside an equally frantic Nancy. They couldn't shoot at the creature in fear of someone getting hit by a stray bullet. As fast as they all were going, the demogorgon with Steve still hanging on, was much faster than them. It was a blur through the darkening trees, but they could make out Steve, pulling out a knife and stabbing at the creature to let Holly go. Finally, the demogorgon flung Steve off of him. Steve came crashing to the ground, but he managed to slash the demogorgon in the leg on the way down. Finally, it dropped Holly, and Karen moved forward with a branch to shield her daughter.

"RUN TO DADDY, HOLLY!" Karen screamed as she hit the demogorgon that dove for Holly.

Holly screamed and ran into Ted's arms. The demogorgon swiped at the empty spot and growled at Karen before hitting her with his claws. She screamed as she fell, its claws digging into her, and then she went silent. The demogorgon dove for Ted and Holly. Ted acted quickly and covered Holly with his body, the monster's claws scratching his back. Nancy screamed as she swung the bat at it. El came charging in, her hand flying out and throwing the demogorgon away from Ted. It charged again, and El threw it harder while Eddie attacked from above. Argyle and Hopper came in with homemade flamethrowers, lighting up the demogorgon. Robin, Joyce, and Dustin threw molotovs at it. Lucas, Mike, and Jonathan acted quickly. They pulled Ted and Holly to safety. Jonathan gently picked up Karen, who was thankfully still breathing, but she wasn't conscious. The demogorgon screamed and took off. Everyone moved quickly to get the Wheelers to the hospital, Jonathan carefully putting Karen in the back of Argyle's van while Ted climbed in, clutching Holly. Nancy climbed in the passenger's seat with Mike.

"Take care of Steve," Nancy said to Jonathan, and they drove off.

Jonathan turned to the group to talk to Steve, but he wasn't standing with them. Robin was looking around wildly as well.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Jonathan asked.

That's when everyone realized that he wasn't standing with them. Jonathan pushed past them and back into the woods. Steve wasn't there either. . .only his bloody knife. There were drag marks in the dirt. Jonathan took off, following the trail.

"STEVE!" Jonathan yelled.

"STEVE!" Dustin and Robin screamed.

They couldn't find him. At one point, the trail just ended. They couldn't find a single sign of Eddie either. Dustin collapsed into Robin's arms, sobbing. She held him tightly.

"We're going to find them. We ARE going to find them," Robin said.

After searching for a while, they had no choice but to return to the hospital. Jonathan had paused before getting into the car. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't fucking breathe. His chest was tight. Why he couldn't he breathe? He clutched his chest as the image of Steve’s smiling face appeared in his head. . .an image of them all packed away into the RV with a dog in their laps appeared as well. Suddenly, that image shattered. Jonathan let out a strangled yell.

"Jonathan, honey, breathe. I'm here," Joyce muttered softly. "We're going to find him. Okay, we're going to find both of them."

"I have to - I have to tell Nancy," Jonathan gasped.

As much as he appreciated his mother's hug, he wished it was Steve’s arms around him now. He managed to calm down somewhat, and once that happened, they all drove to the hospital. He found Nancy, Mike, and Argyle in the waiting room. Nancy and Mike were pleading with their father.

"Please, Daddy. You have to let the doctors look at you. Mom is fighting for her life in there. You have to do the same thing. We can't lose you either," Nancy said.

"We'll look after Holly, Dad. I know I said a lot of things to you, but I was being stupid. I know you care. I know we don't show it a lot, but we love you," Mike said softly. "We can't lose either if you."

Ted sniffled and loosened his grip on Holly. Nancy immediately picked her up. He shakily stood up and hugged his kids.

"You're the best thing that your mother and I ever did," Ted said. "I should have said it more. . .I'm proud of you."

Hopper stepped in to help Ted hobble out of the room.

"Don't go, Daddy!" Holly sobbed.

"Dad's going to be alright, Holly. He just has a few scratches that need looking after," Nancy said.

Holly let out another loud sob and buried her face into Nancy's shoulder. Jonathan went over to her and hugged her tightly. Well, hugging them both. He pulled back and stroked Holly's head.

"How's your mother?" Jonathan asked softly.

"We don't know anything yet. Only that she's still in surgery," Nancy said with a sniffle. "Jonathan. . .where's Steve?"

There was silence as everyone exchanged looks. Jonathan looked nervously at Nancy.

"We thought he had been with us but. . .when he turned back, he was gone. We couldn't find him anywhere. We don't know where he is," Jonathan said. "We don't know where Eddie is either."

Nancy started to breathe heavily as her eyes went wide, and she was trying to remain calm. . .to keep it together. It was all too much. Nancy set Holly onto one of the plastic chairs and burst into tears. She pressed the heels of hands into her eyes as it grew harder for her to breathe. Meanwhile, El turned the television to an empty channel and tied a bandana around her eyes.

"I need silence," El said gently.

Nancy buried her head in Jonathan's shoulder and let him hold her as she tried to quiet her sobs. When she couldn't, she looked at Mike, who nodded and took Holly into his lap. Nancy dragged Jonathan out of the room and hugged him tightly.

"We have to find him. We have to," Nancy said.

As Jonathan held Nancy, he thought about Steve and all the times he interacted. He always thought Steve was an asshole but that had been at a time when Jonathan had used his camera to hide behind, to distance himself, and at a time when he couldn't admit that he thought that Steve was beautiful. He just hated Tommy and Carol. . .how they talked about people, but had Jonathan been much different. . .hating everyone and judging them when the truth was he was scared of getting hurt himself? It's funny how people distance themselves from people in many different ways because he knew that Steve did it with Tommy and Carol. It was easier than being alone or being himself, but Steve’s love for Nancy had brought that out in him. It had brought out the real Steve. . .the one that walked right into Jonathan's house to fight the demogorgon with them. . .unknowingly forging a bond with Nancy and Jonathan that he hoped would never break. Sometimes, you just get lonely for so long that it's just too familiar to let go, something Jonathan had known all too well.

"Please, don't go, Mommy!"

The scream that Holly had made for her father. . .sounded much like that of a little boy that Jonathan had seen a long time ago. Jonathan had been quite young himself. He was wandering in the woods with his Polaroid camera. . .his first camera when he heard the sounds of a boy his age crying. He peaked through the trees, seeing a fancy house a head. A handsome boy was crying in the driveway, watching his parents pack their things in their car.

"Oh, hush, Steven, we're going to be back soon," his mother said.

"I'm too young to stay by myself, Mama!" The boy had cried.

"No, you're not, and you're too old to be crying like a baby," his mother said. "Now, be a big boy, and if you're good, we'll bring you back something nice."

Steven sniffled and wiped his eyes, tucking in his lower lip. Finally, he quieted down and watched his parents drive away. Maybe he saw his own loneliness in the other boy, which is why he took his picture and then put the picture in his bag. He took another when the boy clasped his hands under his chin and closed his eyes.

"Please, Santa, I don't want to be alone," Steven said.

Jonathan remembered thinking he didn't want to be alone either and how he wished his dad would stop hurting his mother. He remembered taking a step toward the boy and went to leave the woods to introduce himself when another boy ran up the driveway.

"Steve!"

"Tommy!"

Jonathan stepped back and watched them embrace.

"You shouldn't be alone on your birthday, Stevie boy. Your parents may have forgotten but I never will!" Tommy yelled and ran into the house, holding up a gift. "Come open it!"

"Thank you, Santa," Steve had said.

Jonathan had taken a picture of his smiling, happy face, too. He remembered thinking how pretty Steve had looked then, but he also figured that someone like Jonathan would never be friends with someone like him and pushed that moment to the back of his mind. He didn't know why he never made the connection. . .that it had been the same Steve he had fallen in love with. . .why did he only remember now?

"Jonathan, you're crying," Nancy said, pulling him out of the memory.

"I love him," Jonathan said.

Nancy touched his face and leaned her head against his. Just as Nancy was about to say something, El came storming out of the waiting room just as Hopper came back from tending to her father.

"We have found his location. Thanks to Chrissy," El said to Jonathan and Nancy. "They are using his powers against him."

"Alright. Me and El will go get Steve. You guys stay here," Hopper said.

"What? No, we'll go with you!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Someone needs to stay here with your sister, and I'm not going to risk anyone else's lives out there. It's bad enough that I'm risking my own daughter's," Hopper said.

"No matter where we are in this damn town, we're already at risk," Jonathan said.

"Mike can look after Holly and Robin. . .," Nancy said, turning to the others who had spilled out into the hallway. "You'll look after the kids."

"No! Because we're going with you too!" Dustin exclaimed.

"There needs to be people here to look after my sister, and I can't be in two places at once. So, I'm asking you to do what Steve would have done. . . Please, keep Holly safe," Nancy pleaded softly.

"Don't worry, Nancy, we got this," Erica said, for once being agreeable.

They forget sometimes how much Steve means to so many people but especially to Erica. Steve, himself, doesn't even realize it. Jonathan knew she was putting on a brave face, but he could see the fear and worry in her eyes. Robin, however, wanted to argue right back with a furious look on her face. Her friend, Vickie, had shown up at one point and slipped her hand into Robin's.

"We'll look after them," Vickie said, and Robin's face softened.

Dustin opened his mouth to argue, but Lucas nudged him.

"We need to look after Max, too," Lucas said to Dustin. "And Ted and Karen."

"And you're going to need to my awesome flamethrowers. Pizza isn't the only thing I like to cook," Argyle reminded them.

"Argyle the Pyro Pizzaman," Jonathan said and they shared a laugh.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Will and Joyce were coming with them either. Hopper knew it was pointless to argue with them. Will hated to leave Mike, but he had powers of his own. There was no way he wasn't going to back up his brother and sister. Everyone hugged each other tightly. Will hugged his friends and then hugged Mike last. El hugged Dustin and kissed him soundly. Lucas made a noise of surprise.

"When the hell did that happen?" Lucas asked. "I thought you were still dating Mike!"

"We broke up, but it is okay. We are friends," El said and paused. "He will always be my first love. You were a great first boyfriend."

"And you were a great first girlfriend," Mike said, and they hugged tightly. "Be careful."

"Aww," Dustin said and Will laughed.

"And you guys aren't upset?" Lucas asked.

"It was difficult. We both cried. . .Mike more than I did," El grinned.

"I did not!" Mike exclaimed.

"I think it's sweet," Will said, and Mike blushed.

It felt so wrong to split up, but Jonathan knew they really didn't have a choice. They all hated it. The ride to the lab was silent. . .of course, it was the lab. None of them knew what they would find there, and Jonathan hoped that they would find Steve alive as well as Eddie. Nancy was holding his hand so tightly that he thought she would break it, but he welcomed it anyway, needing it just as much as she did. Of all them, El was the most troubled by going back to the lab. Jonathan reached over and squeezed his sister's shoulder with his free hand. She relaxed a little and pressed her cheek onto his hand. He could tell from the reflection in the window that she looked more determined than before. After they all got out of this, Jonathan swore he was going to spend time with both of his siblings. Maybe take them out for ice cream. It was daunting pulling up to the lab, and Jonathan remembered the last time they were here. Bob had died.

"That's not going to happen to him," Nancy said, as if she could read his thoughts.

"We won't let it," Jonathan said.

When they got out of the car, Nancy pulled out her shotgun and handed Jonathan their bat. The building was covered in the vines from the Upside Down and looking more intimidating than ever. Everyone walked to the front doors only to find Wayne Munson and Gareth Emerson trying to get in.

"Hey!" Hopper yelled. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"My boy is in there!" Wayne hollered. "I know it!"

"Mr. Munson. . .how do you know that?" Nancy asked.

"I heard him calling to me. . .he's scared," Wayne said, gripping a shotgun in his hands.

"I was with him when said he heard him, I don't know if he heard Eddie or not, but I thought I ought to go with him," Gareth said. "Will, what the hell is this place?"

"You shouldn't be here," Will said.

"Neither should you," Gareth scowled.

"We'll sort that out later," Hopper said.

"Step back," El said.

Wayne and Gareth looked at her for a moment before doing what she said. She held out her hand and moved the vines away from the door. Once they were gone, she blasted them open.

"What the fuck?" Gareth asked and then leaned close to Will. "So, when you said on our date that your sister is basically Wonder Woman. . ."

Gareth was a terrible whisperer. Nancy and Jonathan heard every word. They shared a surprised look.

"I thought for sure Will and Mike. . ." Nancy started to say.

"Yeah, me too," Jonathan said.

"I love Mike," Will told his brother. "But he just broke up with our sister, and I, personally, need some time while I'm still young to explore my options."

"You've been pining after my brother for a long time," Nancy pointed out.

"And don't you think it's his turn?" Will asked, causing Nancy and Gareth to laugh.

"And you don't mind?" Jonathan asked Gareth.

"What? Being used by Will Byers? Worth it," he said, grinning. "Besides, he's honest. . .it's refreshing."

"Quiet!" Hopper hissed.

Suddenly, they remembered where they were and got serious again as they quieted down. Jonathan watched in amusement as Hopper muttered under his breath about fighting the apocalypse with teenagers and their drama. They followed El all the way to the room where she had opened her first gate. Vines were all over the place with bats hanging from the ceiling. . .with demogorgons lying on the ground at Vecna's feet. On the walls, Steve and Eddie were wrapped up in the vines. They were unconscious. Along with them were Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick. The plan was simple. Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick were supposed to keep him busy inside his head while El killed him from the outside. Hopper and the others would be their backup, torching anything that tried to assist with Vecna. Wayne tried to go to Eddie, but Jonathan put a hand on his arm.

"Wait," Jonathan mouthed.

El closed her eyes, held out her hand at Vecna, and began to levitate. It had gotten the attention of the bats and demogorgons. They raised up all at once and surrounded their master. . .screeching and howling at the intruders. Hopper and Argyle started up the flamethrowers as the bats rained down upon them. Nancy blasted away the demogorgons along with Wayne while Jonathan hit the bats with Naily. Will blasted away creatures with his powers, the very ones he had been working to use with El. Gareth had looked at him in awe for a moment before pulling out a knife of his own. The fight went on for a while, the bats falling away from the flames along with the demogorgons. Will had no other choice but to pull himself away from Gareth and Wayne to help his sister kill Vecna. El's eyes were red, and black veins were spreading across her face as blood gushed from her nose. Jonathan knew he hadn't quite gotten far with growing and developing his powers. He looked away for a moment as Will levitated to join El.

"Will!"

A demogorgon came upon Jonathan, and he fell to the ground. The monster snarled, and its face opened up, saliva dripping on Jonathan's face. He could hear everything exploding around him, could smell the gunfire and the smell of the smoke. . . the smell of the disgusting vines. He could hear them slithering and sliding away. Suddenly, he could see feet appearing, as if people were suddenly dropped from the walls. A moment later, something was swinging against the monster's sides. The demogorgon fell off of him, and Jonathan looked up to see a pale Steve above him, holding the bat. Half of his face was scratched and bruised. Steve held out a hand and pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. Jonathan pressed his lips against Steve’s in a hard, desperate kiss, tears spilling from his eyes. Jonathan could taste his own salty tears along with Steve’s.

"Fuck," Jonathan gasped as he pulled back, remembering what was going on.

He turned his attention onto the scene in front of him while Nancy kissed Steve. Vecna's body was burnt to a crisp, dead. Will and El were leaning against each other, exhausted. Their eyes were still red, and blood was dripping from their noses. Patrick Mckinney and Fred Benson were looking at each other in amazement. Wayne was hugging Eddie tightly, the both of them crying. Chrissy was standing awkwardly, waiting to talk to Eddie. Had he not seen her?

"Eddie?" Chrissy asked.

"Oh God, I'm hearing things. I swear, I keep hearing Chrissy Cunningham's voice. . .it's all I have been hearing lately, and maybe that was a dream. . .that she's alive," Eddie sobbed.

"No, she's here, son. Turn around," Wayne said, pulling back.

Eddie turned around and yelped before pulling her into a tight hug. Chrissy beamed and returned the hug. Eddie quickly pulled away.

"Shit, sorry - " Eddie said.

Chrissy giggled before grabbing him by the back of his neck and kissing him deeply. Eddie froze for a minute, unsure of where to put his hands, and they all watched as they flapped around excitedly as he kissed her back. Chrissy giggled against his lips and placed his hands on her waist. He broke the kiss, cupping her face.

"I kept thinking that I was hearing your voice. . .calling my name in the back of my head. It was part of what kept me going," Eddie said.

"I was calling your name," Chrissy said.

"I heard you," he whispered.

"I heard you, too, Eddie," she said.

"What?"

"That song you played right before you died. . .was that really for me?" Chrissy asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"You really died, Eddie?" Wayne asked.

Eddie turned around and was about to say something to his uncle when the ground began to shake. The vines started slithering away, pulling back and taking Vecna's body with them. They all watched in amazement as the vines disappeared out of the room and put the door. They all held onto each other as the ground continued to shake.

"To answer your question. . .yeah, I died. I'm a vampire now, Uncle Wayne," Eddie sighed. "I really am a freak."

"Yeah, you are," Chrissy said, elbowing him in the side. "It's a good thing I have a thing for freaks."

"It's also because it's also because it takes one to know one," Eddie laughed. "You're a freak, Chrissy Cunningham."

When the ground finally stopped shaking, they all moved outside. The skies had been cleared of the particles, and they could see the vines slinking back to where it came from. The skies had darkened, though, and thunder was now growling loudly. The rain came pouring down in buckets at though it were trying to wash away all of the filth and destruction that the Upside Down had caused, that Henry had caused. They stood under cover and all watched the rain coming pouring down.

"Max should be awake when we get back to the hospital," El said.

"You saw her? Was she with you in Henry's mind?" Nancy asked.

"She was, and she fought like Max," El grinned.

"I don't really understand what just happened," Fred said.

"It's okay, I never understand what's going on," Steve said. "Everyone thought you were dead, but Vecna, that monster, only made it seem like it. Think Freddy Krueger."

"Jesus," Patrick cursed. "Eddie. . .man, I'm sorry, I really thought you killed Chrissy."

"To be fair, what were you supposed to think?" Eddie mumbled.

"That I should have known better not to judge you the way that we did," Patrick said.

"Maybe. . . "

Eddie stared at him for a moment, a look of understanding passed between them. He turned to Chrissy with a grin and grabbed her hand before dragging her out in the rain. She shrieked with laughter and clung to him as he began dancing with her. Jonathan realized that Steve’s arm was still wrapped around his waist, and he looked at him.

"You're not dragging me out into that weather. I don't care how much you inflate those Bambi eyes of yours," Steve said.

"Yeah, good luck with that. He gets those from his mother," Hopper said. "You're screwed."

"Don't listen to him. Besides, I don't want to go out there either," Jonathan said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, not dead, so that's a surprise," Steve said. "I'd figure that I wouldn't make it out this time."

"Don't talk like that," Nancy said.

"You used to pray to Santa," Jonathan blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked. "How the hell do you know that? I never told anyone that. . .not even Robin because I know she'd mock me mercilessly."

"It's embarrassing. . ." Jonathan trailed off. "I didn't even remember until after you went missing. . ."

Jonathan told them, away from Hopper's and Wayne's prying ears. The rain had gotten louder and had practically drowned out any sound. Jonathan was standing close to Steve and Nancy. Steve stared at him in surprise.

"Wow, so it wasn't the first time that you did that," Steve said teasingly.

"I'm sorry, Steve. The whole picture incident. . .it's the worst thing I have ever done. I apologized to Nancy, but I never apologized to you. I spent so much time using the camera to hide, to push people away. I just forget there's more to people than what I think their image is telling me," Jonathan said. "I just forget about the boundaries when I look through the lense. . . Mom is right. I tend to act like I'm alone in this world."

"Well, you're not the first person to ever do something stupid to try and push people away," Steve said. "And I get it. . .what it feels like to feel like you're all alone in this world."

"Neither one of us is perfect," Nancy said. "We all try to do things on our own, but we don't have to do that anymore. Well, the difficult stuff anyway, we're still individuals. Just. . .when we feel like we need each other. . .let's agree to try and let each other in. . .without resorting to anything drastic. By the way, Steve, does Jonathan know that you were the one who bought him that camera?"

"What?"

"Surprise!"

They laughed as they watched Eddie and Chrissy dance happily in the rain for a while. Finally, the rain let up, and they came back over to the group. Eddie shook his head like a dog all over Gareth, who laughed and pretended to be mad but then hugged him tightly. Chrissy giggled and moved over to Nancy.

"It's weird that this is how we were brought back together," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, I wish it were under better circumstances," Nancy said, and Eddie bounded over to them.

"I forgot you two were on the squad," Eddie said.

"Well, we knew each other pretty well then," Chrissy said. "Should I tell him?"

Nancy laughed and nodded. Chrissy leaned over and whispered in his ear. He gasped.

"No way! Me and Jonathan!" Eddie exclaimed.

"What?!" Chrissy laughed. "Wow. Small world."

"Small town," Eddie said and then looked at Steve. "Shit, sorry, forgot about your face."

He spat directly in Steve's eyes, and Steve hollered.

"Damn it, Eddie!"

Once the rain finally stopped, they drove back to the hospital, where everyone was still in the waiting room. Robin hollered when she saw Steve and pulled herself away from Vickie to throw herself into Steve’s arms.

"Okay, we are never ever getting separated again. I am not letting you out of my sight," Robin said.

"What happens when you want to go on a date? Do you just bring me along?" Steve scoffed.

"Vickie! Is it alright if I bring my platonic soulmate on our date?" Robin asked.

"Okay!" Vickie exclaimed happily.

Robin froze and she stared at Steve in horror.

"Did I just ask Vickie out in front of everyone?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Ah, fuck it," Robin said.

"How's mom and dad?" Nancy asked Mike as she hugged him and their sister.

"Dad is going to be fine, but Mom's still not out of the woods," Mike said softly.

Jonathan gave them a moment, and he saw Lucas hug Patrick before pulling back. He cursed.

"Max!" Lucas yelled.

El grabbed Lucas's hand, and they ran off together towards Max's room. Everyone else ran off after them. Jonathan could see the doctors moving out of her room and Max sitting up as Lucas stood by her bed.

"Hey, stalker," she croaked, looking at him.

She was looking at him. . .she could see. He supposed that if the other's bodies were fakes. . .illusions, then he supposed blinding her had also been an illusion. He wondered if breaking her bones had been as well.

"Mad Max," Lucas sobbed.

"You should probably kiss me before I change my mind," Max said.

Lucas leaned down and kissed her, sitting on the edge of the bed. They broke the kiss, and Lucas hugged her tightly.

"I never wanted to leave your side," he said. "Sometimes, I had to. All I wanted to do was read to you until you woke up."

"I heard you, Lucas. I'm sorry I didn't before. I'm here," Max said and squeezed him tighter. "So, everyone is here except for my mother. . .that tracks."

"Actually, she was here for a long time. She never left your side. We had a hard time getting her to eat and drink until Joyce talked to her. . .or rather yelled at her. She checked herself into rehab. She wanted to be better for you when you woke up," Lucas said.

"Oh. . .well, that's good," Max said, blinking back tears and smiling. "That's really good. . . Okay, so how long did it take to kill this fucker?"

"Well, it's December 1987," Lucas winced.

"A fucking year?!" Max asked. "I think I missed our date."

"I missed it too," Lucas sniffled and laughed.

Jonathan took Steve’s hand, who smiled softly at him. Steve took Nancy's, and she smiled at both of them. They hoped that they didn't have to deal with any more shit after this. . .that they could all have their happily ever after.

"So, I guess we're never going to know what Creel was planning," Max said.

"Oh, yeah, he was trying to summon enough power to awaken a dragon," Eddie replied.

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, we were all in his head," Chrissy said. "There's a dragon sleeping inside a mountain in the Upside Down. Like hundreds of years ago, it came from the Upside Down and wrecked havoc. It took tons of psychic energy to put it to sleep. They tried killing it, but it was immune to most things. Eventually, the demogorgons were born, as well as the bats to keep people from awakening the beast. The Mind Flayer was the guard, and basically, was a beacon for any psychics to stay out. . .to keep the gates closed. They never expected Henry to try and control them or to take their power as his own. Henry needed El and all of us because we were descended from the original psychics who put the dragon to sleep."

"Jesus. . . I guess we're going to keep an eye on that," Hopper said.

"Are you saying that we're going to have to create a secret order?" Dustin asked.

"Dragon keepers," Eddie grinned.

"Dragon lords," Dustin said and then frowned. "No, Dragon Keepers sound better."

"Knights of the Dragon, an order for both men and women who choose to vow to keep that fucker asleep," Eddie said.

"And so shall it be. . .," Dustin said.

"So, not like the Knights of Hellfire?" Steve asked.

"Damn it, that is good," Eddie cursed.

"Okay. . .now it's so shall it be. . ."

A YEAR LATER. . .

The light streamed in through the curtains, practically blinding Jonathan. He groaned. They forgot to close the curtains last night after getting off of work. He pulled away from Steve’s arms, and Steve groaned. He clung to Jonathan.

"Where do you think you're going?" Steve asked.

"We forgot to close the curtains last night," Jonathan said.

Jonathan stumbled out of bed and towards the curtains. He bumped into the desk chair, knocking his shirt uniform to the floor. He picked it up. KNIGHTS OF HELLFIRE was on a patch on the arm of the shirt. The order was still going strong, and there was no sign of any awakening of the beast. Jonathan really liked working with them, mostly because it was run by Joyce and Hopper. Though it was funded by Sam Owen's family, he knew that the money had to come from somewhere, and at least they were running the order themselves. They also inadvertently gave them the ability to make the town safe for people like Jonathan and his family. Working with them also gave them the freedom to do whatever they wanted.

"Hurry up, it's bad enough that Nancy isn't here," Steve groaned. "The bed is getting cold, baby."

"Just hold on," Jonathan said and folded the shirt over the chair, moving it and turning to look at Steve. "I'm glad Emerson gave her another chance, and she's having the time of her life, but I miss her too."

"It helps that Eddie's victims weren't actually dead. That asshole is still riding high on becoming the town hero who rescued them from a psychopath's basement. All hail King Eddie," Steve snorted. "I wish she could be in two places at once."

"Like two Nancys?" Jonathan asked with a grin.

"Now, there's an idea," Steve said, and then he froze. "The curtain just moved."

"What?" Jonathan asked and turned to find the drapes were shaking. "I told you your new place was haunted."

"When are you going to call it our place?" Steve asked. "I mean, when's the last time you slept at your parents' house?"

"Uh. . ."

Steve leaped off the bed and grabbed the bat out from underneath his bed. Jonathan stared at him.

"What?"

"You're naked and holding the bat," Jonathan said.

"Focus, baby, there's an intruder in our home," Steve said.

They hadn't even gotten close when suddenly Nancy jumped out from behind the curtain. Steve and Jonathan screamed. Nancy was lucky that Steve had forgotten about the bat and dropped it. Suddenly, Robin and Vickie came running in wearing t-shirts that Robin had stolen from Steve as well as Jonathan. Robin was holding something long - she quickly threw it over her shoulder. It buzzed loudly as it hit the floor, and it continued to buzz as Robin quickly kicked it down the hallway. They could still hear it.

"Oh, it's just our other roommate home from college! Hi, Nancy!" Vickie exclaimed happy.

"Hi, Vickie, you're looking very satisfied this morning," Nancy smirked.

"I am!" Vickie exclaimed.

"Nancy, you scared the hell out of us! I could have hit you with this," Steve said picking up the bat.

"But you didn't. Hm. . .No wonder Jonathan got distracted," Nancy smiled.

She wrapped her arms around Steve and kissed him deeply. He dropped the bat and returned the kiss. Robin groaned and rolled her eyes as she went to stomp out of the room. She stopped.

"Wait. . .our roommate?" Robin asked. "Did you move in with us?"

"Accidentally! I went to get more stuff from my house and I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I slept there. Also, I had slowly moved my stuff over here without realizing it," Vickie said.

"Hey, Jonathan did the same thing!" Steve laughed. "Oh! I need to call Eddie! Tell him what you tried to use as a weapon."

"Don't you dare!" Robin exclaimed.

"Too late!"

Steve dove on the bed and reached for the phone on the nightstand. Jonathan watched in amusement as Steve dialed the number by heart, his perky ass on display for everyone to see as he twirled the phone cord with his finger. Robin groaned.

"Nobody wants to see that, Steven!"

"I beg to differ," Jonathan said as he reached over and smacked Steve’s ass before throwing a blanket over it.

"She acts like it bothers her, but she's seen it a million times," Steve said. "Oh, hey, Chrissy wants to know if Eddie and Robin are secretly related because Eddie used the same thing when he thought someone was breaking into the house. It was just a raccoon."

Jonathan wrapped his arms around Nancy and kissed her deeply.

"It's wonderful to see you but next time you decide to surprise us. . .we both like chocolate," Jonathan laughed.

"I couldn't resist," Nancy giggled.

"Anyway. . .I'm glad you're back, Nancy. Vickie and I are going back to sleep. Uh, we just have to get our, uh, flashlight," Robin said.

"Right! Flashlight!" Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve laughed.

"Dingus!" Steve exclaimed.

"That's my word, Steven Otis!"

Jonathan grabbed the phone from Steve.

"Hey, Eddie."

"Jonathan, my man!"

"Bye, Eddie!"

"Okay, that's fucking rude - "

"Steve’s naked and Nancy just got back for Christmas break - "

"Say no more - "

Jonathan hung up the phone, and Nancy immediately wedged herself in between them. Jonathan kissed her, enjoying the way she felt beneath him and the familiar noises she made. Oh, fuck, he missed her. Judging by the desperate way she kissed him, she missed him just as much. She turned around in his arms, letting his lips fall to her neck as she kissed Steve just as desperately.

"I missed you guys, too," Nancy said as she broke the kiss. "Do I also have a home here?"

"Always. . .no matter where you are," Steve said.

"Now, I can call it our place," Jonathan said.

Afterward, Jonathan lay in bed, staring at his sleeping partners beside him. Steve was lying on his front while Nancy slept on his back. The sunlight streamed through the currents, shining down on both of them, bathing them in a beautiful golden light as though they were angels. Oops, they forgot to close the curtains. Jonathan gazed down on them and wondered how he got so lucky. He looked around the room. . .at the collection of their things that had found their way into the room. Their clothes were in the closet, his camera sat on the desk, the basketball that Steve played with Lucas was sitting in the laundry basket, Nancy's books were sitting on the shelf that Steve had put up, and all of their pictures hung on the wall. They had a life together even with the threat of the dragon looming over their heads, something that's always going to be there, which is why Jonathan knew they needed to enjoy all that life had to offer. . . Especially the good things. He was suddenly very glad that he and Eddie had never gotten on the same page. This was where he wanted to be.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve jumped up when someone knocked on their bedroom door.

"Code white! I repeat! Code white!" Dustin's voice came through. "It's time to plan a very illegal wedding! Remember when you said I could plan it! I heard from Ted and Karen that Nancy's home. . .Jonathan?! Steve?!"

"Why did you go and tell him that?" Steve asked sleepily.

"Why did you go and adopt Dustin Henderson as your brother?" Jonathan asked.

"I still say he kidnapped me," Steve said and Nancy giggled.

"I CAN HEAR YOU! . . . ASSHOLES!"

Jonathan snuggled up against his partners, choosing to ignore Dustin and enjoy the time he had in this world. Dreams of traveling the world with Steve and Nancy in the RV with their dog in Nancy's lap danced in his head.

[somebluemelodies]

happy holidays my friends! my gift to you in these trying lore times is canon divergence <3 angst? what’s that? i only know richas and pepito have gotten ahold of mistletoe—

The kids are planning something.

The kids in question? Richarlyson and Pepito, who have been chittering and giggling almost nonstop since they finished opening their presents, using their notebooks instead of signing so their parents can’t figure out what the fuck could be about to happen.

Cellbit and Roier stop trying to figure it out when they get denied information the third time, so they can only trust whatever the two hatchlings were plotting isn’t going to be explosive, at the very least.

Nothing in fact happens for a long while, and one could assume that maybe they don’t have any plans in mind. Maybe they’re just gossiping.

(God only knows how much Richarlyson loves to.)

And then the party happens. An island-wide thing, per most of the major celebrations. There’s a whole new area, too, decorated similarly to spawn. A snowy little wonderland, with colorful blinking lights strung between tall pines decorated with large ornaments and occasional garland.

(It’s a welcome change from everything that’s been transpiring over the last few weeks.

A chance to recuperate.)

Roier is talking to Étoiles and Bagi when something tugs his pant leg, and he looks down.

Bright eyes and big, round glasses are looking right back up at him. “Pepiux?”

Pepito grabs his hand instead, trying to pull him away. “Ay— ¿Qué pasa, Pepito? What the fuck?”

Pepito only tugs his hand again, more insistent. The hatchling is smiling, though, eyes twinkling with mirth Pepito has failed to conceal, and at the very least, Roier knows something hasn’t gone to shit. “Okay, okay. Vamos, Pepito, vamos.”

He’s led over to under some tree a good distance away, but he doesn’t see anything. The spider-hybrid looks around, shooting Pepito a questioning look, but Pepito only beams with no elaboration, still holding his hand.

Roier keeps looking around. Is he supposed to see something? Nobody seems to be doing anything unexpected.

And then he looks up. “No mames, wey— Pepiux, you sneaky—”

“Guapito?”

He looks back down, and finds his husband being led by a very determined-looking Richarlyson. “O que é isso, Richas?” Cellbit laughs, and warmth blooms in Roier’s heart at the sound.

The hatchling lets go of his hand when he and Roier are standing directly in front of each other, and Pepito finally lets go of the spider-hybrid’s, too.

Cellbit copies Roier and looks up, eyes widening slightly. But then a smile creeps onto his face, and his piercing eyes are shining in a way the lights can’t provide, in a way his husband hasn’t seen in a long while.

How the kids placed the mistletoe up there, they’re not gonna question.

Instead, their focus is on what the hatchlings added to the holiday sprig: pink amaranths.

Cellbit looks down at Richarlyson and Pepito, who have just finished a high-five and are looking extremely pleased with themselves. He quirks an eyebrow. “We’re literally married, you guys.”

Richarlyson whips out his notebook, writing with a comedic ferocity before holding it up. AND? YOUR POINT IS?

Pepito lifts his own notebook, a lot less aggressive as he bounces in place. FELIZ NAVIDAD APAS :-D

The cat-hybrid chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His attention is diverted by hands settling on his waist. Roier’s smile is soft, and he’s looking at Cellbit in a way that makes him weak, mind going pleasantly fuzzy. “Oi…”

“Hola, gatinho,” Roier murmurs.

(Satisfied, Richarlyson and Pepito slink off, giggling at the prospect of the next part of their grand plan.)

Cellbit closes the space between their bodies, one arm wrapping around his husband’s neck while the other cups his face. Roier feels a familiar coil around his leg.

The spider-hybrid spares one last glance up at the customized mistletoe before pressing their foreheads together. “Well? You gonna kiss me or what, pendejo?”

“Pendejo? With that mouth of yours?” the investigator quips.

“It’s more fun, no?”

Cellbit hums, his thumb brushing along Roier’s cheekbone. “Claro.”

And with that, Cellbit tilts his head and the distance is closed, eyes fluttering shut as they melt into the kiss.

Subconsciously, they hold each other tighter, pulling each other impossibly closer. The world fades out around them, until it’s nothing but each other.

(They’re already as close as they can get.)

(Not that the fact will stop them from trying.)

They don’t pull apart until their lungs are burning for oxygen, watching each other closely as their hearts race in their chests.

Their silent stare at each other hardly lasts a few seconds before grins are splitting their faces, foreheads pressing together as their shoulders shake with silent laughter.

But then Roier makes a sound, unable to keep quiet, and that’s all it takes for them to both fall into proper laughter. Cellbit’s head drops to his husband’s shoulder, burying it in an attempt to stifle the growing noise.

(He hears Roier through his laughter, “hijo de puta, Cellbo—”)

They rock in place until they’re finally able to calm back down and catch their breath, and Cellbit lifts his head. He moves his hands back, cupping Roier’s face in both and studying him fondly.

“Told you it was more fun,” the latter chirps, and it takes more self-control than Cellbit cares to admit to not start laughing again.

(Roier’s always been good at that: making him laugh even at the simplest of things.

Maybe it’s less Roier and more a testament to just how whipped Cellbit is. But that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

(Since day one.)

The cat-hybrid rolls his eyes, not a trace of malice to be found. “Whatever, man.”

“Ey, man, what the fuck?” Roier moves a hand from Cellbit’s waist, putting it to his heart. “You know I’m speaking facts. Pure facts.”

“Cállate, guapito.” The cat-hybrid pinches one of his cheeks.

“I have a better idea,” his husband answers.

Cellbit doesn’t even get a chance to ask before Roier’s hand is against the back of his head, threading through his hair, and their lips are pressed together once more. A little less gentle, a little more passionate, but no less perfect as it speaks the words they don’t need to.

(Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.)

(And across the way, a flustered scientist and an equally-flustered war veteran find themselves under a red-rosed mistletoe.)

(A very Merry Christmas, indeed.)