#if the dudes can have their asses out so can we fuck em

[theconfusedanimal]

some gaY SHIT!!!! WOW!!!!! @volpurr's sthsona kissing mine bc we gay

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[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[tgcg]

this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

[webslingingslasher]

I Swear I Don't Know Who That Man Is

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: fluff/angst

Word Count: 5K

Summary: you got wasted and called peter to pick you up, you also don't realize it's him right away.

Peter Parker hates parties. 

But, he loves you. That’s why he’s currently allowing his eardrums to burst apart and have his shoulders constantly being checked from the other bodies surrounding him. It’s giving him the type of overstimulation where he wants to throw everyone to the side and scream at everybody to shut the fuck up. Instead he pushes through the crowd and tries his best to find you as quickly as he could. 

��Yo Parker! Is that you?” 

Peter wants to roll his eyes, how is Tarrent going to look directly at him, use his name even and then follow it up with asking if it is in fact, who he thought. Peter thinks about ignoring him until Tarrents hand claps him on the shoulder and digs his fingers in as he drags him to the kitchen island. 

“Parker’s here, pour 'em up!” Tarrent waves his hand at his friend with the bottle, he shrugs and follows instructions. Peter is busy looking around for you. 

“Thought you weren’t the party type, Parker.” 

Peter grabs the shot from Dalton, the one with the bottle, who poured them at the request of his frat president. 

“I’m not really, I’m on boyfriend duty right now.” 

Tarrent rips a nearly empty beer can from his lips, foam spilling out and his fingers slightly dented the can in his hold. “Where’s she at? Should I get D to pour a shot?” Peter’s always been confused by Tarrent, he was kind of a dick. Not the intentional type of dick, but the overall stupid dick. He’s always been a fan of Peters, he never let anyone pick on him and always was his buddy when he was in the room. 

Peter eyes the shot in his hand, he doesn’t want to do this. 

He doesn’t get drunk, unless he drinks an abnormal amount. Instead he just gets to taste all the burn with none of the fun side effects. 

“Not sure, she was supposed to get a ride home with Linzey, but then she called me up here.” 

Tarrent nods, “Linzey with the tits? They’re honkin dude, you should see ‘em.” 

Peter blinks at him, “Yeah, she has boobs alright.” 

Tarrent raises his shot glass, “To tits!” 

Peter raises his own shot glass, “To tits!” He tries to forget that you would pinch his arm if you heard him say that. Then taps the glass on the counter twice in unison with his friend before throwing it back. 

His nose wrinkles slightly, warm vodka was absolutely terrible. 

“So, Parker. Wanna play a round of pong?” 

Peter thinks he doesn’t know his first name, he’s never once called him it. 

“I would but I’ve never played and I have a girlfriend to find.” 

Tarrent claps his hands, “Tell you what, you play a round with me and I’ll send D to get your girl. Sound good?” 

Peter thinks about it, he really, really doesn’t want to be here but he’s feeling slightly pressured. Not to mention Tarrent’s done a lot for Peter, he’s pulled a lot of cards for him. He’s helped him get into the library after hours, and he even let Peter use his car for a date. 

Peter sighs, “Just one round?” 

Tarrent waves Dalton off and raises his fists and shakes them, “This is gonna be so lit dude, something tells me you’re gonna win us this round.” 

Peter laughs, “I’ve never played.” 

Tarrent punches his shoulder, “Beginners luck, man.” 

Peter watches Tarrent push away a kid on the cups, even in the middle of a game they both stopped just because Tarrent wanted to play. “Rerack ‘em, Charlie. Parker’s gonna kick ass.” 

Tarrent explains the game to Peter quickly, “You shoot a ball and I do, you wanna get them in the cup. You get it in the cup, they drink it and remove it from the triangle. If we both get one in then we get balls back and can reshoot, if we land it in the same cup then they take an extra cup off. You can’t have your elbow go over the edge of the table, however you can bounce the ball and if it lands they’ll take an extra cup, but they can also swat it off the table. If they land a cup and the ball swirls around the cup you can ‘finger it out’, basically how you do your chick, last rule is a redemption, if we win they get an extra shot. If they miss, they lose, if they hit it, our win is canceled out but the game isn’t over.” 

Peter nods slowly, “So I just make it in the cup?” 

Tarrent smiles, “Exactly, Parker.” 

Charlie finishes the rerack, both sides have ten, red plastic cups lined up in a triangle. He looks up to see his opponents, Tom and Terry, twins in Tarrent’s frat. Tarrent holds out his hands, a fist in one palm, Tom copies his move and they start slamming their fists down. “Rock, paper, scissors. Let’s fuckin go, Parker! Watch me.” Tarrent cheers when he wins the game, picking up the white ball he blows on it for good luck and shoots it, it hits in the middle and bounces around the rim before falling off. 

“Fuck! You got this, Parker. Win it for your lady!” Tarrent slaps Peter’s chest, the force knocking him off balance for a second.

Peter can’t think of one thing you’d be less impressed with. 

Tarrent is a good guy, dumb and sexist and misogynistic but a good guy. He didn’t realize what he was saying was wrong and usually when Peter gently corrected him he took note immediately and changed his language. 

Peter decides he’ll give the win to Tarrent. He can easily win this game, no matter how good his opponents are, they don’t have Spidey skills. 

He clears his throat and picks up a ball, he focuses on the first one and shoots. It’s a perfect shot. 

Tarrent jumps up and howls, “That’s my fuckin guy! Fuck you Tom! Fuck you Terry!” 

The game goes back and forth for a minute, Peter choosing to miss some shots to slow the game a little. Otherwise it would be finished in five minutes. Halfway through the pressure gets to Terry, “You can’t hit this, Parker. Just like your girlfriend, you know you always leave her begging for more.” 

Peter blinks and tilts his head, “Is that supposed to be trash talk?” He sails the ball into a cup, Tom slaps his brother's head and chugs the now lukewarm beer. Terry’s words made him think, where were you? Dalton was sent to search almost fifteen minutes ago. 

Dalton comes running up panting, “So I’m looking all around for you man and I gotta be honest, I have no fucking clue what she looks like. I tried asking every girl if Parker was their boyfriend but there’s too many.” 

Peter looks over to Tarrent, he’s heard his pledge and made pleading eyes at Peter. 

“C’mon, man. You can’t bolt now, we’re about to win!” 

He’s right. With a sigh Peter unlocks his phone and shows Dalton your picture. He examines and nods, “Be right back!” Then turns to break into a half jog, he stops to turn a girl around, that looks absolutely nothing like you, before shaking his head and running back into the house. 

He has very little hope. 

They won the game with very little surprise on Peter’s end. He nearly got talked into a second game but he was more desperate to find you so he could get midnight mcdonalds and a cuddle. “You sure you can’t do one more?” Peter winces, “Sorry, dude. I gotta find Y/N, she’s probably pissed by now.” Tarrent nods gulping down a beer, “I know how chicks are, I’ll see you Tuesday, Parker.” 

Peter smiled and nods his head, “Good game, man. Glad I could get you that win.” 

Tarrent gives him a grin back, he’s a little sloshed for sure. He hooks an arm around Peter’s neck, his beer splashed on his sweater on the shoulder. “You know, I really do consider you a good friend, Parker. You’re a good guy.” Peter taps his arm, “Thanks, man. You too.” 

Tarrent shoves him away and slaps his ass, “Go find your chick, I’m sure she’s missing you.” 

Peter now realizes why it’s taken Dalton so long to find you, he’s not looking. 

He estimates Dalton made it three steps in when he spotted a wasted blonde and was busy chatting her up, he made eye contact with Peter and his eyes widened, “Listen man, I’m sorry, okay? I just saw the prettiest girl in my life and I had to talk with her. Also can you please not tell Tarrent? He’ll knock me back four points and Franklin can’t beat me, I have a thousand bucks I don’t have on pledging.” 

Peter watches the girl swing her head back and hit the wall, she giggles and sips her drink. He just points at her and looks at Dalton, “She’s wasted. Get her a water and get her home safely. I promise she’ll call you, do the right thing.” Dalton grins and shows Peter his phone, an Uber already ordered. “Like Tarrent says, rule three of Alpha Beta Delta, W.W.P.D. What would Parker Do?” 

“Tarrent has a rule dedicated to me?” 

“Dude he has a whole fucking powerpoint on it.” 

Peter nods his head impressed, turns out he can make an impact outside of the suit. 

He pulls out his phone to check the time and sees two missed calls and seven texts, each one getting progressively sadder when you ask where he was. Peter looks up at Dalton and motions to his phone, he understands and waves him off. Peter’s quick to send you a text. 

‘I’m here, where are you?’

You read it, your chat bubble appears, then disappears, and then sends nothing. 

Peter doesn’t know if you’re in trouble or just mad he was an hour late to get you and ghosted you. 

‘baby please tell me where you are, i want to go home.’

You have the same pattern, then a text appears. 

‘So did I. An hour ago.’

Peter groans, no one could ever prepare him for a not only drunk, but a pissed off, drunk girlfriend. 

‘:(‘ 

He tries to think of where you might’ve gone. Peter checks the upstairs bathrooms first, then Tarrents room. When he comes up empty he tries outside, both the front and back. Nothing, he’s worried you might’ve left him as a punishment. When he circled the living room for the third time he was hopeless and texted you with no response, he was about to scream until he saw Lindzey. He nearly bolted to her, “Where’s my girlfriend?” 

She narrowed her eyes then smiled when she recognized him, “The basement. She’s pretty gone, she said Jarred was giving her the creeps so I came to get her some water.” 

“Where is she now?” 

Lindzey looks at him funny, “The basement?” 

“You left my girlfriend, your friend, alone in a basement with a guy that was giving her the creeps while she’s inebriated?” Peter decided he would never trust her around you again. 

She tried to speak but Peter held up a hand and passed by her, quick to get down the stairs, he didn’t even know there was a basement. He was able to breathe easier when he saw you sitting in a chair in the corner swirling a straw in your cup, your feet tapping to the beat of the song. 

You looked drop dead gorgeous. 

Peter approached you, you didn’t look up at him. You sucked on your straw and chewed at the end, he smiled down on you. 

“Hey, trouble.” 

In a swift movement you moved to hit the side of your shoe against his, “Out.” You spoke around your straw and kept staring at a poster on the wall. “Huh?” Peter was confused, did you want him out of the room, or the house? 

You sighed and kicked again, “I said out!” 

Peter couldn’t help but laugh, you were trashed. “Out of where, baby?” 

You ripped the straw from your mouth, the ice danced in the cup, at last you snapped your head to look at his face “Listen here, prick.” Your voice was venom, Peter’s eyes widened, he looked around for a second and shuffled closer. In turn you threw yourself back in your chair, “Out means out. Out of my way, out of my space, out of my fucking life.” 

You’ve never been this harsh before, he didn’t realize you were this pissed. 

He sighs, “Trouble, I’m sorry I-” 

You cut him off quickly, “Don’t call me that, ever. My boyfriend calls me that, that’s his word for me. Not yours.” 

He can’t help but grin in relief, you didn’t know it was him. 

“I don’t see a boyfriend.” 

You scoff, “Yeah well if you don’t see a bear shit in the woods doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. He’s on his way, he’s picking me up.” 

“How about I take you home sweetheart?” 

As serious as you could muster at the moment. You looked dead in his eyes and threatened him, “My boyfriend is gonna beat the absolute shit out of you.” Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh is he now?” You nod fiercely, “If I ask, he’s so whipped for me he would do anything I want.” 

Peter’s offended. He knows it’s true, but damn. 

“He’s whipped but left you here alone?” 

You nearly clawed his eyes out, “I have no fucking idea why you’re acting like you know anything about him. He’s my boyfriend and he’s picking me up, and I promise you don’t want to be here when he does.” 

Peter feels a sense of pride that you’re dropping his name, he made you feel so safe and comfortable that you knew he would drop kick anyone you deemed deserving. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Want me to bring you to your boyfriend?” 

You scoff and sip your drink, “I don’t think he would want me to leave my spot.” 

He wants to give you an atta girl, he’s trained you well enough that when you’re drinking and waiting on him you hunker down until he finds you. He will be looking forever if you’re constantly moving around. 

“What if I told you I was told to come get you?” 

You look him over with shifty eyes, you don’t trust this man. 

“What’s his name then?”

He ignores your question and reaches for the cup you're drinking from, he thinks it’s time you stop. You slap his hand, hard, “Don’t, ever, touch something I’m drinking, okay? Mommy never taught you to keep your hands to yourself, huh?” 

Peter rubs at his red hand, “I-“ 

You dryly laugh in his face, “How fucking entitled to you think you are? I mean really, not to mention you have no fucking clue how to read a room. I’m not interested, you dolt, I have a boyfriend that is gonna come grab me at any second.” 

Peter squats so he’s more eye level. He notices the issue, you couldn’t see him. He was backed against the wall and it was shadowed, the second he bent down the window lit up his face. 

“Hey, trouble. I am your boyfriend, wanna get home?” 

Your eyes lit up with recognition, the moment you saw who you were berating your lower lip trembles. Fat tears pooling in your eyes had Peter panicking, did you still not understand who he was? Has he scared you? 

“You’re okay, baby. It’s just me.” He smiles to be non threatening, it doesn’t work. You blink and tears fall, Peter frowns and reaches forward to cup your face, you shrink back further into the seat. The drink clutched to your chest spilled out over your shirt, you ignored it and looked at Peter, shaking your bottom lip at him to hold off sobs.

Peter starts to look around, before placing a palm on your chest trying to sop up the extra liquid into his sweater. You shove his hand back quickly, then raise your knees to hide your chest, wrapping your hands around your legs and cry into your knees. 

He’s at a loss for words, he really doesn’t know what’s going on. Are you truly lost and think he’s taking advantage of you? It seemed like you recognized him the second you saw his face. He puts his hand on a knee, you move your leg so his hand falls off, he’s lost. 

Peter thinks he needs to find Lindzey, he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you here alone upset, but he can’t seem to figure you out. If you can see your friend and have her willingly say that you are safe and this is your boyfriend then everything should be fine, right? 

You have your face hidden from him, he had taken your cup away when it landed all over your front. Peter rests the plastic on the ground, the remnants of ice click. With a sigh he stands, he turns to look up the stairs hoping Lindzey would be coming down any second, if he has a guess though, she’s in Tarrents room watching the ceiling fan. 

Peter takes one step and you grab his wrist tightly. 

“You’re not leaving me right?” 

“Hey!” He gives you a warm smile, like the kind of greeting you get from coming out of your room after a few hours. “What’s got you crying?” 

You repeat your words, “You’re not leaving me, right?” You emphasize the right, because you don’t think Peter would do that but you’re not too sure the way you’ve been talking to him. 

“I was gonna find Lindzey, are you-“ 

You jump up instantly using the hand you have on Peter for stability. You’re so close to Peter you almost step on his toes, he’s quick to back up. You take in his movements and start to cry, you shake your head quickly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again, I promise. Don’t break up with me, don’t leave me.” 

Peter’s face scrunches in confusion, you take it as rejection. You cry harder, you sob so hard people are starting to turn and look. “Hey, c’mere.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you out of the basement but you stick your feet to the ground and shake your head violently. “No! Don’t do this, Peter. I’m sorry! Please don’t!” 

He really wants to get you the fuck out of here. It’s dark, cold, loud and crowded. You’re also a nervous wreck that’s not only sobbing but also screaming at him stuck to his side but refusing him to touch you back. You’re also making it sound like he’s about to take you out back and teach you a lesson, he’s trying to think of the nicest way possible to get you to shut the fuck up. 

You sniffle and take a deep inhale, then pout at Peter who takes your silence as an opportunity and leans in to talk directly in your ear. 

“Calm down, Y/N. Follow me, understand?” 

You nod but when he tries to move you stay attached to the ground again, “I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise.” 

Peter can’t think of a time you’ve been more hammered. 

He needs to get you out of here, he tries one last time before he’d be forced to throw you over his shoulder. Peter leans to talk into your ear once more, not mean but stern. “I’m not mad, but I will be if you don’t follow me.” You wipe away any extra tears that had fallen before nodding slowly, you’re trying to not make him mad. He doesn’t know why you think he’s so upset at you. 

Peter tries to grab your hand but you cross your arms and sniffle as you follow him up the stairs, he keeps turning every few seconds to make sure you’re still with him. He knows the second he’s able to get you away from the house you’d be able to explain why you were so upset. He’s just so tired and is more than ready to get home so he could sleep next to you, and he’s been so patient with you so far. 

It’s rare you make him aggravated. So when you bolt from behind him to hide behind Tarrent he has to take a few deep breaths before he follows you. He doesn’t know why you’re scared of him, he doesn’t know why you were crying, he doesn’t know why you want to hide behind Tarrent. He does know he wants to get the fuck out of here. Peter takes a second for his annoyance to leave, he’s half tempted to pull your arm like a toddler out the door. Kicking and screaming and all. 

When Peter finally walks over he’s blocked by Tarrent’s hand. 

“What’s going on, Parker?” His tone is accusatory, his side chosen with the teary eyed sniffling girl. 

Peter sighs, “Honestly, no fucking clue.” When he looked over at you, you immediately threw your head down to look at your shoes. He leaned in a little closer to Tarrent to speak softly, trying not to set you off again,  “I tried to get her to leave but she started crying and freaking out.” 

“She doesn’t want to leave with you.” 

Peter blinked. Tarrent was supposed to be his friend, why was he taking your side out of nowhere. 

“She had me spooked too. I promise everything is okay.” He smiled and went to move around Tarrent to grab his girlfriend, this time Tarrent was more aggressive. “She said she doesn’t want to leave with you, Parker. I won’t make a lady do anything they don’t want.” 

Peter is so ready to say fuck it to everything.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, great. Are you going to be getting my girlfriend home safely or will one of your pledges that can barely tie their own shoes be instructed to do so?” Tarrent’s face hardens, “Why don’t you go take a walk, Parker?” 

He throws his hands in the air, “Awesome.” He points to Tarrent, “You can take care of it from here.” Then Peter stands near you, you still haven’t said a word or moved an inch. “Have a goodnight, Y/N. I’ll talk to you whenever.” 

Finally you speak, it’s a worried tone. 

“You’re leaving?” 

Peter can’t help himself, he gives a laugh, like he’s the crazy one. Exasperated, he looks at you, “Yeah, baby, I am.” You look him up and down, “Why?” He takes a second to look around the room, he’s expecting cameras to come out. 

He doesn’t want to fight but his tone said otherwise. 

“Because, Y/N. You called me here to pick you up, then you were mad I was late. Then you wouldn’t tell me where you were because you thought a game of hide and seek would be cute, then when I found you, you started crying and screaming at me. Now you’re hiding behind my friend and he’s telling me you want me to leave. You want me to leave but you want me to stay, which is it?” 

Tarrent looks like he’s ready to break up the fight at any second. 

You go back to blinking at your shoes, he nods his head with a mumbled ‘fucking awesome’ and started to walk away. Your quivered voice made him stop, you were panicked and upset. He didn’t get why until now. 

“So you’re breaking up with me?” 

Tarrent looks at him like ‘well, are you?’

Peter can’t stop himself, the confusion spills out. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re breaking up with me?” 

When he walks closer Tarrent spreads out slowly, he’s trying to let Peter have a chance to talk to you. 

“Baby, why would I break up with you?” 

You look at him and he sees how sad you look, you can’t help the bubbling cry that pulls through. 

“Because I was mean to you.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

You thought he was mad because of what you said to him in the basement. You thought you had fucked it up by hitting and berating him. You thought he was trying to get you out of the house so he could swiftly dump your ass and leave with a nicer, prettier girl. 

“Oh shit.” He breathes out the words and in an instant Tarrent knows this isn’t as accurate as you claimed it was, even if you were plastered he was ready to have your side first. And not that he even really knows you, but he considers Parker a good friend and if there was a chance he was about to fuck up and end it with you he had to middleman it. Tarrent knows Parker deserves you. 

He slowly pushed himself away until he was no longer in between you two. Peter appreciated the space and pushed his toes into yours, he was going nowhere. 

“I’m not mad about that! You didn’t know it was me!” 

Peter is so happy this was about nothing. 

You won’t hear it, you’re drunk and extremely apologetic. 

You hiccup, “No, cause I was so fucking mean to you, Petey. I should’ve never said that, I was so so mean. I wasn’t being a good girlfriend.” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks it would upset you more. 

“Baby, really. It’s okay, you didn’t know it was me. I’m not mad at all, I promise.” 

You shake your head, “I was so mean to you though. I called you like, so many bad names.” You gasp when you remember what else you had done, you grab his hand to look at it. Peter tries to pull it away before it causes you to spiral more but you somehow have an iron grip on his wrist. 

“And I hit you! Oh my god, Petey. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it I swear.” 

Peter places his free hand against your cheek, “I know you didn’t.” You place a soft kiss to the red mark, he knows you feel insanely guilty. 

‘Hey,” He taps your cheek with a finger to get you to look at him. “You trust me, right?” You nod. “Good, now believe me when I say I’m not mad. You stuck up for yourself, trouble. You didn’t see it was me and I realized that, okay?” 

You sniffle. “So you’re not mad at me?” 

He laughs, “No, trouble. I’m not mad at you.” 

You look at his hand and frown, you kiss it again. “And you won’t break up with me?” 

Peter smiles sadly, “Don’t think you can get rid of me that easy, sorry.” 

“Kiss?” 

He looks at you, then the room, “Here?” 

“If you’re not breaking up with me then prove it.” 

Peter wants to tell you he could kiss you then dump you but you wouldn’t get that he was joking and it would collapse everything. 

He follows your wish and pulls you in, he’s not much for outstanding PDA but he thinks you deserve a little more than a peck tonight. You did just gaslight yourself into thinking he was breaking up with you. 

Peter pulled back and watched you grumpily blink your eyes open. 

“Why stop?” 

“Are you asking for another?” 

You nod quickly and look over his shoulder, “Now! Before Casey Shauna sees you and tries to come over.” Before he can say a word you fly up to meet his mouth, it was sloppy and you basically headbutted him with your mouth so his teeth hurt. He gently pushes you away and rubs his upper lip. 

Your eyes widened, “Oh no, I did it again. I hurt you, right?” 

Peter was not about to fall back into this rabbit hole, not when he just found his way out of it. 

“Not at all, trouble. Had some lip gloss, that’s all.” 

You pout and shake your head solemnly, “I’m not wearing lip gloss.” 

“How bout this, I get you home and I’ll give you all the kisses you want. How’s that sound?” 

Like a puppy you’ve forgotten why you were upset, excited you hold on tight to his arm as he guides you through the crowded room until you reach the front door. You ask him how firm he is on the kisses offer, he gives you three the second you exit the house. 

“I also want sex.” 

Peter laughs, “That’s funny, cause I want a mcchicken.” 

You ‘oo’ at him and slap his arm in excited agreement. “I want one too, but with cheese. And maybe some fries. Oh, Peter! I want a super large coke too, they have the best coke!” 

By the time you’ve hit up Mcdonald’s and had Peter’s wallet buy you whatever you wanted, (even when you asked him for another mcchicken and a refill,) you were too tired to do anything but pass out on the couch. 

Peter humphs at you while he watches you snore with the TV playing in the background. 

“The sex to Mcdonalds pipeline never fails.” 

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x afab!reader. you want to get your work done so you can go home. blitzø wants to fuck you on his desk. you come to a compromise that turns him on way more than he thought it would. anon request for tail play. 1.6k.

featuring: imp!reader, tail play (including jerking him off with your tail), blitzø being reduced to a mess by a power dynamic shift, oral sex (f!receiving).

“Hey, tits! Get in here!”

You look up at the sound of Blitzø’s voice, huffing a sigh as you drop your whetstone and set the blade you were sharpening on the table. Millie gives you a glance torn between sympathy and annoyingly knowing humor, and you flip her off on the way out the door. You hear her giggle as you make your way to your boss’ office.

“Would it kill you to call me by my name?” you ask as you enter, closing the door behind yourself out of sheer habit.

“Dunno. Maybe.” Blitzø shrugs, lazing back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk. “Better to play it safe.”

“Uh-huh.”

He grins toothily, crooking a finger at you to beckon you towards his desk. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m working, Blitz.”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” he smirks. “It’s what I pay you for.”

You register the lascivious edge to his expression, and despite the way it automatically makes your insides flutter, you fold your arms over your chest.

“Be careful how you phrase whatever you’re about to suggest, B.” you warn. “’Cause if you even suggest that I put out for pay, I will slap you in the face so hard your teeth will bleed.”

“Ooh, kinky,” he teases, and you shake your head, determined to hide your amusement. He tucks his hands behind his head, shifting in his seat in a way that lifts his hips briefly in a manner that you know is suggestive. “Wanna take a break?”

“I want to finish up so we can go home,” you shoot back, jerking your thumb back over your shoulder. “Can I go now?”

Blitzø shakes his head. “Nope. I got shit for you to sign. So, get your sweet ass over here and… do your job.”

You scoff at the weak innuendo but do as he tells you. However, when you come to a stop on the other side of his desk he raises a brow pointedly. His tail is waving lazily back and forth behind him, the way it does when he’s thinking about just how quickly he can get you naked. You sigh, rounding his desk obediently and coming to a stop beside his chair. You eye the stack of papers in front of you skeptically.

“And these are?”

He shrugs. “You took out the main target on all of these. You gotta sign off on ‘em for billin’.”

“Right… and I have to do it in here, huh?”

He smirks, dropping his feet from the desk. He pats his lap invitingly, brushing his palm over the bulge in his pants and squeezing suggestively. “You wanna get comfy, you can park it right here.”

“I’m good.” you tell him, bending down to sign the first form. He reaches forward to smooth a hand up your inner thigh, dipping it between your legs before grabbing a handful of your ass. You inhale sharply, caught off-guard by the sudden thrum of arousal his touch elicits from you. You swallow, cursing yourself because you know he’s heard it, and turn your focus determinedly back to the papers in front of you. “Dude.”

Blitzø slumps back in his chair with a heavy, overly dramatic sigh, one elbow propped on the arm of it. His cheek squishes against his fist petulantly. “Come on, tits. I thought the whole point of you comin’ in today was so we could get freaky on my desk.”

You roll your eyes, flipping the form over and skimming the other side. In truth… this is turning you on. The way he’s touching you, the way his tone is growing almost needy. You’re so used to him calling the shots, to taking charge both in and out of the bedroom, and so is he. Denying him like this is sending a new kind of warmth tingling through the middle of you. Still, you ignore that feeling pointedly.

“You are so lucky we don’t have a H.R. department.”

He snickers. “Bitch, I am the H.R. department.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” you shoot back snidely, and his smirk widens. You turn around when you feel the spade of his tail smooth over your ass, raising an eyebrow at him pointedly. He raises his hands innocently, the gesture ruined by the evil little grin still on his face. You sigh dramatically before a smirk of your own blooms. You take hold of his tail, just below the spade, just before he can smack you with it again. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Unlikely.”

“Asshole.”

“Ooh, now there’s an… shiiit…” he breaks off as you squeeze his tail and drag your fist down the length of it slowly. His eyes roll back for a moment, his jaw ticking.

“You’re gonna keep bugging me about this,” you continue, wrapping his tail around your hand and squeezing. You straddle his lap, thrilling in the way his eyes spark with interest as you do. He leans back in the chair, pressing his hips up into yours temptingly. You reward him by palming him through his pants, feeling him twitch beneath your hand. “You’re not gonna stop until you get to cum…”

He shakes his head quickly, eagerly.

You unzip his pants, and Blitzø exhales a soft groan as you slip your hand into them and take hold of his cock. He’s hard under your touch, and he surprises you slightly by leaning up to kiss you. You tilt your head and let his lips catch the underside of your chin, and you lean back, letting spit drip from your mouth and down onto the head of his cock.

“Satan’s taint, that’s hot…” he mutters, confused when you climb back off his lap. “What the fuck are you—”

“Shut up,” you tell him, and Blitzø’s next complaint is drowned out in a moan as you wrap your own tail around his cock. You drop a quick kiss on the mark on his forehead. “And be a good boy for me.”

“Holy titty-fucking… fuuuuck…” he groans as your tail begins to stroke him, spreading saliva and precum down over the length of him. You tighten your hold around him each time you reach the base, and he grasps at the back of the chair and the arm of it as you turn back to the desk. “Slutty little… Christ!”

You smile to yourself as you bend over again, picking up your pen and returning to the paperwork. The way he’s breathing is getting to you, the heavy, labored exhales sending sparks dancing along your spine. You can feel his own tail wind around your calf, the spade of it twitching back and forth in time with you jerking him.

There’s almost a purr sounding through the imp behind you, his hips humping up into the grip your tail has on him. Your signature becomes skewed and shaky as you feel him shift forward, his hands running up over your thighs. Your breath catches as he takes hold of the waistband of your pants and jerks them and your underwear down over your ass.

“Bli—” your reprimand breaks off with a gasp as he buries his face in your cunt, his tongue immediately finding your clit. “Oh, fuck!”

He snickers into your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing his forked tongue into your cunt. You moan aloud, accidentally knocking the pile of paperwork onto the floor as you bend further over the desk. Your tail quickens over his cock as he circles your clit with two fingers, his other hand digging claws into the flesh of your ass. He urges you to grind against his mouth, fucking you ruthlessly with his tongue.

“Jesus, fuck, Blitz—” you crush a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, but Blitzø has no such hang ups, snarling your name as he cums, forehead pressed against your ass. You can feel his cum drip over your tail and you loosen it, your body quivering as he returns his tongue to your clit. “God…”

He moans into your cunt as you cum against his mouth, lapping at your clit until you take hold of his horn and force his head away again. Boneless against the desk, you bump your head against the wood with a sigh.

“Goddamn it.” you mutter, pulling up your pants. You feel Blitzø give it a parting, appreciative squeeze as you straighten. “You always get your way, don’t you?”

He hums a self-satisfied laugh. “Seems that way.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing the tissue box out of the drawer and tossing it into his lap. “Clean yourself up, B.”

“Ooh, I love it when you’re all bossy.” he teases.

“Yeah?” you raise an eyebrow, stepping up between his parted knees. You brace both hands on the back of his seat, leaning down over him. His smirk falters, his eyes flicking down over you before meeting your gaze again. He leans up, but you press a finger to his lips before he can kiss you. “Well, if you wanna see me get all ‘bossy’ like this again, you better finish the fuck up in here. Because the next time I make you cum, it’s not going to be where we’re risking staining the fucking paperwork. Got it?”

He nods, his face flushed.

“Good.” you kiss him, briefly. “Because I’m gonna need to ride that cock of yours as soon as fucking possible.”

Blitzø grins. “Oh, you filthy whore.”

You straighten, smiling back at him as you head for the door, blowing him a kiss as you go.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Can I request JJ and Pope being in poly relationship with a female reader? NSFW and SFW pls if you can

AHHH id love to THANK YOU SK FORB THIS

SFW

- they’re very much so in denial at first, and they both are strictly dating you for a little. That is until you finally get them to admit how gay they are for each other.

“Just admit it, you guys are so in love!” You attempted, watching both boys shake their heads but look at each other at the same time.

“Nope.” JJ protested.

“I mean… I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think I really…”

JJ’s eyes snapped up to meet his, quirking an eyebrow. “You’ve thought about it…?”

you’re wearing a smirk and clapping your hands together in victory.

- anyways they are literally the best bfs ever. popes the more calm and romantic one. He’s the one that ends up cleaning your guys messes a lot.

-and JJ is the more chaotic but charming one. It’s a perfect balance.

- days usually start like this…

“JJ, what did I tell you about leaving your clothes on the ground?” Pope groaned, frustrated as he picked up the boys dirty clothes and threw them into a hamper.

“Sorry!” He shouted from the living room, you giggling at the boys.

- anyways dates are a mix of super cute and also chaotic. Like you guys cannot go anywhere without jj saying some dumb shit that makes you both look at him with a “seriously dude?” look.

- but you both love him for it anyways.

- JJ is also the most protective one in the relationship. Doesn’t let anyone say shit about either you or pope. has gotten into multiple fights for it and will continue to do so, Pope is lecturing him and telling him to stop before he gets locked up and your wrapping his wounds. He is more obvious and loud about his affection.

- and Pope is the most secretly affectionate out of the two of you. He showers you both in compliments, most of them discrete.

- JJ is one for pda and pope is not.

“Jesus, stop- stop, both of you.” He shot you both warning glares, watching you both be those couples who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Oh, so I have a super hot girlfriend and im supposed to not wanna touch her all the time? That doesn’t make sense.” JJ teased, wrapping an arm around you.

“We are literally outside a McDonald’s.”

- they both scream casual dominance !! specially pope

NSFW

- okok AHHH. pope is much more gentle with sex, he’s the one telling JJ to be slower sometimes, to go easier on you..

- JJ is more fast and fervent when it comes to sex. He practically pounces on you both.

- THREE. WAY. KISSES!! All of you love em and they’re just so so sexy.

- and watching pope and jj kiss? oh my fucking god.

- you all pope always have hickeys. Jj just loves them too much.

- if you’re into anal, JJ loves fucking your ass while Pope has your pussy :3 he calls it his hole, and pope calls him a freak for it.

- speaking of freakiness I think we all know jj wins in that category. He dgaf, he pretty much down for anything and everything.

- also pope has the biggest fucking load ever. when you first fuck you and jj are like 👁️👁️ does it ever stop?

- two words. Eiffel Tower.

- you ask to hold them when their soft. And jj is like why not and pope looks at you both like you’re from another planet.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Male! Stripper x client! gn! reader

Ehh it feels so weird writing another yandere after MONTHS of only writing about the pre-implemented boys. So, enjoy!

Also, Dino isn't human. Just putting that there so ya'll aren't put off!

Also, extra long fic as an apology for the delay.

Notes: Inherently sexual talk, exploitation, implied coercion (not to the reader, and not elaborated. Only mentioned) Cryptid(?) Mentioned is not accurate, more like a self interpretation.

Yandere! Stripper name: Dino (Dee-no)

The music was so loud inside the prestigious strip club named "Tease." Red lights that hurts to look at if you're not used to it, the smell of alcohol, smoke, and sex lingering in the air, and how can one forget the display of skin exposed?

In this strip club, almost everything is allowed as long as it's consensual.

That comes with a lot of loopholes that a lot of clients exploit, but the way the club only panders to those who have a lot of money, aka the upper echelon of society, means that they get to get away with their... faults, most of the time.

Prestigious in name, their workers and strippers were pampered yet were overworked in a sense that they are obliged to do thing even if they're not in the contract. For example, sleeping with their clients.

It's called the "Special golden shower". Despite it's unfortunate yet intentional name, the client will order from an array of drinks on a menu, and one of them is the "Special golden shower" or SGS for short. This 5,000$ splurge of money is a way to order a stripper for a night. And, if you add 5,000$ more, the stripper is theirs for 24 hours. Of course, the club isn't stupid enough to not throw in freebies. The client can rent a "special" room, in which there's a stripper pole on a stage, a king sized bed, sanitized toys, and contraceptives. There's also alcohol, even food if they want. And the add on for 5k$? They can take out their choice of stripper from the club.

The stripper? Forced to accept it since the split of the money is 50/50. That's 2,500 for a night. If lucky, 5,000.

There's also a special incentive to those who "booked and hooked" clients the most every month. Straight up 3,000$ bonus.

Now who would say no to that?

And the stripper who consistently got number 1 spot for the male strippers, and possibly overall, is Dino.

Nobody knew where Dino came from. He just came to Tease one day, wanting a job as a stripper, saying that he fits their criteria with so much confidence.

And he did. His body, obviously a product of rigorous work out, is lean yet muscular. His hair was luscious and smooth, obviously well groomed. A smooth, angular face that's universally handsome, and stature that rivals even to those in beauty pageants.

Also, his demeanor that's always a "yes-man" made him the perfect employee.

The Tease management love him. He rakes in so much money because he pulls in so much clients. Like an idol, he has loyal fans that goes crazy whenever they knew Dino would have a show. Money upon money, they would scramble to get the SGS bundle. And those who underwent Dino's "care", they would say it was the best sex they had in their entire life. Hell, they said they felt so tired and so weak afterwards. Some even had to get a wheelchair.

Well, that was the rumors anyways.

But this honestly made you curious.

"Hey! Did you hear that the owner's kid is visiting?"

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know really. But this means we need to put on a show. Like a really good show."

Dino paused from washing his face, hearing his other stripper-mates talk about the owner's kid.

He grabbed his soft towel and patted dry his face, intrigued by the news. So he went to his chair and started to slowly put his skin care routine while eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Shit, do you think I can bag 'em? Maybe they'll order the SGS."

"You sure the kid isn't ugly or something? I don't want to fuck some ugly ass--"

"SHUT YOUR TRAP DUDE. Do you want to get fired or something?"

Dino rolled his eyes and decided to shut the conversation from his mind and continued to do his skincare.

'Foolish humans, really. Can they be so conceited in face of such a large sum of money?'

Dino isn't exactly human.

When he's finally of-age, he decided to leave his hometown and mingle with the humans. He's always been so fascinated with them, seeing these people that holds no kind of power at all yet almost dominated earth.

His parents warned him that they are nothing but greedy and destructive. Did he listen? No.

When he finally got to the mainland, he got swept up by the wrong crowd. And naive Dino, got plunged into the night life.

The once bubbly and kind incubus is no more.

At least, with his current lifestyle, he gets fed regularly with sexual energy and life force to the point that he doesn't need to drain that much energy at all. Besides, he enjoys the attention sometimes. If the people weren't creeps.

His parents were right. Humans are disgusting creatures who will spend so much money just for a night of pleasure. And they don't even need it, it's a want.

Their stares, their words, their touches... It's absolutely vile.

But then, Dino is a hypocrite. The money that came from it was too good to be true that even though he doesn't like it, he continued to be Tease's number 1 employee.

He sometimes dream of what his life once was. A hopeless romantic, someone who will find the perfect partner, and promise eternal love with one another. Respecting boundaries, safely and consensually explore kinks and plays, and Dino would only feed on their sexual energy and not anybody else.

That's now a far fetched dream.

The door creaked open, making him snap out of his train of thought.

"Show's in an hour. The owner's kid will be watching, so be presentable... As much as a stripper can be, and give them a memorable time." The stage manager said, before leaving them once more.

Dino sighed and put on his latex micro shorts, kinky boots, and his leather straps. A little bit of perfume, and a sweep of his hair. Some glitter, and he's done.

As expected, a lot of people came for Dino. He tried to squint his eyes as he leaned on the pole. The blaring lights didn't allow him a clear vision of the people on the audience. So he can't tell who's who at all.

The money kept raining as he did a back bend, ascending to an Ayesha. He wanted to bag the owner's kid so much. Maybe they'll give more money.

So he amped up the allure, and admittedly, he raised his charms by using his powers.

More money raining on him, he decided to just give the ultimate show he can.

As expected, he heard the bell that someone ordered the SGS bundle for him.

"You lucky dog." The stage manager slapped his ass, making him glare at him. "The owner's kid booked a 24 hour SGS bundle for you. That's 5k. But that must mean nothing to you since you always get 'em."

Dino smirked, it worked well.

So, he cleaned himself up and went up to the special room.

He saw you, and he's genuinely surprised. He thought you were gonna be some... "Facially challenged" person, but he finds you very pleasant looking. Attractive even.

"Hello, i'm Dino." His smooth voice came out of his mouth. "And may I ask your name, master?"

He smirks. Most clients liked it if he called them master.

You frowned a bit before waving him off.

"Please don't call me that." You said, a bit overwhelmed. "Honestly, i'm only here to shake off my dad. He's really strict, and thinks I shouldn't go anywhere near Tease. So..."

Dino blinked. He didn't expect the owner to be a "wash-hand" type of person. Wash-hand as in he tries to keep his reputation clean but his work involves something "nasty" in society's standard.

"Really? And you're already an adult. So what's with his business breathing down on your neck like that?" For the first time, Dino felt comfortable talking with a client. He sat down on the stage's ledge and looked at you.

"Ugh. I don't know." You twirled your hair with your fingers. And this action didn't go unnoticed by Dino who was looking at you intently. "He's not the best person. He thinks that if I go near here, i'll turn into a... Whore."

Dino was flabbergasted. "What the fuck? What kind of father..."

"I know right?" You raised your hand, annoyed. "I hate him so much."

He started to examine you. True to your words, your outfit is on the conservative side. The only skin showing is your hands, neck, collar bone, and face. In all honesty, you stick out like a sore thumb.

"Hey, you know..." Dino cleared his throat. "With you booking me, that means that I will do whatever you want. Um, so are you here to rebel? Maybe loose your virginity to me or something?" Dino tried to laugh, wanting to lighten the mood. "Or are you secretly not one already?"

"Oh no. I'm not here for that." You stopped him from saying more. "I'm just here to piss my dad off, spend his money in here. I mean, it will still be his really. And renting you for 24 hours will make him go crazy. So uh, help a poor person here?"

For the first time, he didn't dread SGS. Somehow, that lifted a heavy weight on his shoulders even just this once.

It's a well needed break that he welcomed.

"Yeah, sure. Why not. What could go wrong?"

Everything went wrong.

Dino panted, gripping the counter as he washed his face again and again.

But somehow, he can't get rid of the fluster he's feeling right now.

It's been months since he first met you. And true to your words, you both only hung out. A natural friendship born out of helping each other took place. You were his rest, and he was your hero.

He's content with that.

"Like hell I am." He spat out, glaring at the mirror as he brushes his hair back.

That only lasted for two months.

The way you talked to him like he's an actual person and not a sex toy-- it was so refreshing that he started to look forward to your every booking.

Yes, you regularly went back to Tease to book him again and again to piss off your dad who can't do anything. After all, he's all bark and no bite.

It was dangerous.

The more he learned about you, the more he wanted to dig more. At first, he thought you were just a spoiled human who wanted to rebel against your father. But in reality, you were a person who was swallowed by FOMO, and been left out so much because of your upbringing.

He felt pity at first, and that pity turned into a need to save you from your father. He wanted you to experience things you wanted to. Like alcohol, sex, or just to party in general.

As bad as it sounds, he desires to drag you down and influence you to the night life that he knows. Which is darker than the standard. He wants you to know how it feels, he wants you to feel what he knows...

Until that want turned to wanting you.

When did it all start? This heavy feeling inside of him?

His buried innocence was surfacing once more. His hopeless romanticism is eating him alive every time you talked to him. He felt like you were saving him from the wretched world he knows.

Classic knight saves the princess trope, he knows. But god does it feel good to be treated like a person for once. He felt so alive around you and your understanding and non-judgmental personality. He loved that you didn't feel disgusted every time he touches you, or winces at his clothes.

He aggressively rubs the towel on his face and throws it back on the hamper before marching to his chair. He started to quickly apply his skin care routine. The unwanted excitement of seeing you again was bubbling beneath his skin.

He needs to be more beautiful. More handsome, exquisite.

More. And more.

Your damned eyes. Your eyes that he can't forget about at all.

"Fuck!" He almost broke the mirror when he threw his moisturizer bottle at it. "I'm so far gone..."

Your eyes that didn't hold any affection for him.

He can feel it. The need to take you against your will. The hunger for that life force and sexual energy that he desperately needs. But he shouldn't. He really shouldn't.

After all, you kept booking him again and again without any sex. He's about to keel over and just take you then and there just to get what he needs. Especially that it's the first time in so long that he's gone so long without an abundance of it.

He's loosing control. Quickly.

"Hey, Dino. The owner's kid is here again. They said you're booked again for them. Just making sure you know." The stage manager said, breaking the silence in the empty dressing room. Dino nodded and grabbed his boots to wear.

He's going insane.

He wants to be the only one in your eyes. He wants to be your every firsts.

So he'll doll himself up more and more just for you to look his way with unbridled love that he so desperately craves.

And maybe, you'll save him from this hellhole he created once and for all.

[katzkreationz]

Hey all! Sorry for the long absence here, life has been kicking my ass 😅

But I did finally pick up the tablet again, and I've been working on some things. I've been interested in character redesigns so thought I'd try it with some of my favorites (and some old OCs no one's seen yet or in a while). So if you're interested in seeing them sooner, please do drop by my patreon!

Notes:

Anti Comso and his family were my favorite villains in Fairly Oddparents (even when they kinda just...vanished along with every other previous villain that wasn't "relevant") Always thought it was a missed opportunity that we never got them acting ad a villainous family unit. Evil vacations, family bonding thru world conquest scheming, board game nights! C'mon it coulda been great!

Anti Cosmo-- some outfit changes, wanted to break away from the all navy blue color scheme a bit to make him really stand out more among the masses. Also wanted him to have a legitimate crown since...dude is the ruler of the race he deserves a cool ass crown. Made it reminiscent of a salt shaker, put a little upside horseshoe, and the number 13 for bad luck vibes. Alsoooo put some runes in there to symbolize "great protector", because even tho he's a menace....his plans are all focused on freeing his kind so they can do their thing. Just saying, if I had control of these characters, I'd probably be delving more into their place in the world.

Anti Poof (because I'm not calling him Foop)-- gave him a real body, and wanted to try and style his hair after both parents? Make him look a bit more like their kid ya know. Pretty simple design, cute lil onesie. Gave him a rattle instead to mirror Poof more, but cube instead of rounded. Styled it after a dice, and each side has an ailment he can inflict on people. Pink eye, stubbed toe, etc. In my version he's around his folks a lot more, but tries to keep himself presented as an independent person; he's a big boy he don't need no parents (the self proclaimed big boy says as he's burped like the 1 year old he is)

Anti Wanda-- the biggest changes, obviously. The show had some faults...like the constant fat jokes (cough fuck you Bitch Fartman). So out of spite, she's a chubby queen and her twink of a husband adores her every time she nearly snaps his spine. She's not the smartest, but she brings the muscle to Anti Cosmo's brains.

And of course, gave em all tails. Because they're cute, sue me.

[mulletmitsuya]

Toman Captains + BajiFuyuTora Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of substances, mentions of PTSD

Desc: Baji tries to make a polycule work with some heavy convincing

Baji: alr guys, i'm gonna ask Fuyu and Tora out on a date at the same time

Mitsuya: that's not gonna work

Draken: don't they hate each other? just pick one

Baji: no i'm in love with the both of them so i'm gonna ask both of them out

Baji: also they actually have feelings for each other but haven't realized it yet

Draken: you're pushing it

Smiley: first of all, Kazutora likes women

Baji: no, he has feelings for me but he hasn't realized it yet

Smiley: alright man

Mikey: Baji, your chances are better with Chifuyu. sort that out first because you're gonna ruin the entire friendgroup dynamic with this shit😟

Baji: we're not a friendgroup, we're lovers

Mikey: i'm talking about us, dipshit

Baji: who

Mikey: everyone who isn't Chifuyu and Kazutora??

Baji: idgaf

Mikey: ayt

Pah: weren't we your treasures or smth 🧐?

Baji: i've moved on to bigger things

Baji: smaller twinks

Baji: you get me?

Smiley: Chifuyu's short but he's not a twink.

Smiley: now Kazutora, we can call a twink

Smiley: you guys are using this word wrong

Mikey: it's it just a skinny guy?

Smiley: "a gay or effeminate man, or a young man, regarded as an object of homosexual desire, usually a bottom. they are attractive and slim in appearance."

Draken: this is just Mitsuya

Mikey: 🧐

Mitsuya: ?

Smiley: that is correct but i didn't wanna say anything cause that twink got hands🤷‍♂️

Mikey: now that i think about it, Mitsuya used to be kinda built. not buff but not skinny. fuck happened

Pah: Draken died

Pah: "died"

Baji: so he stopped eating? lame

Mitsuya: do you guys get how mourning works

Draken: well i'm good now so let's get this grub 🗣

Draken: sorry for making you sad, brother

Draken: it's my mission to bulk you up again

Mitsuya: i'm fine👍

Mikey: no one dying is going to get in between me and a meal😭🙏

Mikey: skill issue on Mitsuya's part

Smiley: skill issue is when your friend dies and you go into a depression so deep that you can't even eat anymore

Mikey: that's what i'm saying❗

Smiley: leave it up to Draken to get shot 3 times in the chest and just walk it off

Smiley: that was kinda hard tho

Draken: thanks👍

Draken: it hurt really bad

Draken: i think it traumatized me

Draken: i can't go to amusement parts now. or listen to fireworks cause i'll start hallucinating shit that happened from that night. weird

Mitsuya: ...that's called ptsd

Baji: yeah man you have ptsd

Draken: what's ptsd

Baji: PTSDEEZ NUTS LMAOOOOOOO

Baji: GOT EM

Draken: i wish your suicide attempt worked you mentally challenged, wanna be werewolf, loreal shampoo ad looking ass bitch

Baji: BANG BANG BANG💣💥💣💥💣💥

Mikey: DUDE💀

Baji: do you guys get it

Baji: it's the gunshots

Baji: because he has PTSD

Baji: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Draken: do you remember how you killed Shinichiro

Baji: 😐

Mikey: GUYS💀

Draken: i'm sorry Mikey

Draken: but

Draken: Baji do you remember when you were screaming his name and watched him bleed to death

Smiley: ☠️

Draken: the skull represent Shinichiro, who you killed

Baji: anyway

Baji: back to my kittens

Baji: before Draken decided to take shit too far😒

Draken: when you go low I'll go lower

Baji: cause you were almost 6 feet under???

Draken: where you put Shinichiro??

Baji: ANYWAY

Mikey: Ken-chin he's gonna kill himself again😔

Draken: that is exactly the point

Baji: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY ANYWAY

Baji: anyway

Baji: back to the topic at hand 😐

Baji: i'm doing it tonight

Mitsuya: ahem

Mitsuya: do you know how awkward it's gonna be when Kazutora rejects you? we don't wanna have to deal with that

Baji: he won't reject me

Mikey: your delusional

Baji: can you guys name a situation in which things didn't work out for me?

Baji: no you can't

Mitsuya: 1) Bloody Halloween??

Draken: 2) Your grades🤨?

Mikey: 3) Not making your mom cry🤔?

Baji: ...

Baji: those don't count

Smiley: it's so hard trying to talk to stupid people

Smiley: he doesn't use logic at all

Draken: Baji don't fucking ask them out

Mikey: ask Chifuyu!!! that f slur is obsessed with you😍

Draken: don't say that word😐

Mikey: i literally didn't say it😭

Mitsuya: Baji please just think for literally one second

Baji: too late cause i just texted them

Mitsuya: omfg

Mikey: you fool😞

Mikey: what did you say??

Baji: i went to our groupchat

Baji: "yo let's cut the bullshit. i'm in love with the both of you so why don't we all date and love each other in a relationship with all three of us and shit"

Baji: i sent that

Smiley: you're very... direct

Smiley: i'll give you that

Smiley: Kazutora's gonna say no

Draken: obviously

Baji: bet

Baji's kittens:

Kazutora: Chifuyu can you please change the fucking groupchat name

Kazutora: i know you and Baji do kinky shit together but i am NOT anybody's kitten

Chifuyu: but Baji-san changed it and i can't change it back if he doesn't want me to

Chifuyu: and Baji-san and i do not do "kinky shit"

Chifuyu: we don't have a sexual relationship😐

Kazutora: you have free will mothefucker!! you don't need his fucking permission

Kazutora: is he your dom or something😭

Kazutora: why are so obsessed with him jesus

Kazutora: you guys are gay af

Chifuyu: just because i don't stab my friends doesn't mean i'm gay

Chifuyu: i just respect him a lot cause he's cool 😒

Chifuyu: nothing you'd know about

Chifuyu: you psychopath

Kazutora: you slobber on his dick all day

Kazutora: "Baji-san!!! What a cool kick!! Can you teach me😁?"

Kazutora: you might as well just ask him to put it in

Chifuyu: shut the fuck up all you've ever known are the prison walls that enclosed you

Kazutora: NOT ANYMORE😁

Baji: ladies, ladies

Baji: there's enough to go around 😏

Baji: ew. alright i'm never using that emoji again what the fuck

Kazutora: CHANGE THE GROUPCHAT NAME

Baji: no

Kazutora: you and Chifuyu can do your pet play somewhere else please leave me out of it 🙏

Baji: nuh uh

Baji: you're a tiger

Baji: tigers are cats

Baji: so you're a kitten

Baji: done deal

Kazutora: i'm an adult tiger not a kitten😐

Baji: i'm the alpha and you and Chifuyu are my omega's

Kazutora: what the fuck does that mean????

Chifuyu: haha Baji-san😂

Kazutora: i've never seen someone ride someone else's meat so hard before holy shit

Chifuyu: if you don't understand what respect is, just say that 🙄

Baji: don't lie Chifuyu

Baji: you're in love with me

Kazutora: LMFAOOOOOOOOO

Baji: you are too Kazutora

Kazutora: 🤨

Baji: yo let's cut the bullshit. i'm in love with the both of you so why don't we all date and love each other in a relationship with all three of us and shit

Baji: you guys are in love with each other too just by the way

Kazutora: what

Kazutora: that's not how anything works

Chifuyu: Baji-san i ask again is this a prank 🤣🤣🤣

Kazutora: it has to be cause i'm not a boy kisser like you mfs

Baji: Kazutora be fr. you just got out of prison, you're clinically insane, you're on parole, people feel unsettled by your presence, you have an ankle bracelet, you belong to the state, you have mommy AND daddy issues, you've killed someone

Kazutora: damn

Kazutora: you didn't have to list it like that

Baji: all i'm saying is that i'm your best option because i don't care about all of this and i'll take care of you for the rest of your life even tho you're crazy

Baji: cause i love you (gayly)

Baji: you could even stab me again

Chifuyu: NO

Baji: Chifuyu shut the up i'll get to you babe

Chifuyu: yes Baji-san

Kazutora: "yes daddy😩😍"

Kazutora: what the fuck dude you could least try to hide it 💀

Baji: can u focus

Kazutora: oh right

Kazutora: what about gay sex tho

Baji: i'll teach you

Kazutora: but you have a dick

Baji: uhhhh

Baji: fine you can use yours

Baji: nah nevermind i'm not a bottom

Baji: fuck you

Kazutora: i didn't even say anything

Kazutora: but whatever ig

Kazutora: i'm not gonna be with Chifuyu tho😐

Baji: you are

Kazutora: 😒

Baji: Chifuyu we've been in love for years so i know you'll say yes. just needed to convince Tora babygirl

Chifuyu: but is this a prank tho🤣🤣

Baji: no

Baji: you are my boyfriend now

Baji: both of you come over

Kazutora: ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

Kazutora: fine

Chifuyu: are the both of you pranking me🤣😂

Baji: just come over you fucking idiot

Baji: that was too mean

Baji: please come over you fucking idiot❤

Captains:

Baji: they said yes and we're all about to have sex now

Mikey: you're just gonna lie Baji

Draken: should i get beers? you can cry if you want i won't even laugh at you

Draken: i promise

Mikey: you're just gonna lie Ken-chin

Mitsuya: what did they actually say

Baji: they're coming over? and we're about to make love? are you guys dumb 🤨

Baji: it worked out how i said it would

Smiley: Draken gets the beers i'll get the cigarettes

Smiley: Baji we tried to tell you

Draken: don't piss me off cause you know i don't smoke

Draken: you're gonna influence Angry into an early grave

Draken: do you want your brother to have lung cancer

Smiley: chill

Smiley: Angry tried a cigarette and almost died

Smiley: so you don't have to worry about that

Smiley: fine i'll bring weed instead

Mitsuya: where are you getting drugs😐

Smiley: my plug, duh 😁

Mikey: can i have a weed as well please

Smiley: idk man what if your dark impulses come out or something

Mikey: my therapist said that only happens with specific triggers so it's fine

Mikey: plus i have a shock collar in case that happens

Draken: i don't think that's normal 🤨

Baji: you guys are pissing me off

Mikey: dude it's fine we can comfort you even tho we told you so

Draken: i'm gonna be the better man and forgive you since you've just been rejected

Baji: yk what idgaf

Baji: i'ma just nut in my kittens

Baji: bye losers

Baji: no one does it like i do

Mikey: poor thing🙁

[belokhvostikova]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”

In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.

Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it. 

“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”

Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed. 

“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”

“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.

“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”

“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”

His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”

“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.

“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today. 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”

Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.

But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!

But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross. 

“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.

“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation. 

“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out. 

Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”

“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”

“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”

Gareth grimaced. 

Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.

-

The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.

Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock. 

Oh, fuck, he’s hard already. 

But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-

“Hello?” Oh, shit.

“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!

“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?

He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?” 

“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work. 

“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line. 

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”

Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”

“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”

“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”

“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.” 

“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.

“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?

“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.  

“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.

“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.

“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”

“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”

Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked- 

Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?

-

Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers. 

But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.

Long gone were the risks of parental interference.

Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight. 

Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.

The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far. 

But that was all too easy. 

And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves. 

“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.

You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.

“Huh…?”

“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”

Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.

What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night. 

If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.

A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”

Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”

“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!

Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).

In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.

A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity. 

“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”

“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes. 

“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!

Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.

“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body. 

A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.

“It’s okay, baby-”

“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”

There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”

The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.

“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.

And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished. 

You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”

“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you? 

“American- yeah, yeah, American History.” 

“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”

“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches. 

“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”

Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”

A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.

And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.

“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.

“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”

“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?” 

“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers. 

You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot. 

“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”

Shit. “Uh…”

“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”

Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”

“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”

Fuck me.

-

Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.

“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”

“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.

“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”

“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”

“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”

Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”

You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.” 

“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”

You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”

“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”

Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”

“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”

You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”

His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.” 

“Uh…”

“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.” 

“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes. 

“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle. 

“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence. 

Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered. 

“Just relaxing? A small break?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised. 

Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?

“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.

The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.

And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything. 

Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times. 

He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked. 

“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed. 

“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger. 

Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal. 

But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”

“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.

“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.

He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”

“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.

“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”

“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”

“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”

“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged. 

Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”

“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”

“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain. 

“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”

“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”

You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”

Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.

Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability. 

Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”

“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.” 

“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”

“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face. 

“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring. 

“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached. 

“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear. 

He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”

“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”

“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”

Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible. 

You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”

An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”

You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored. 

“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion. 

“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself? 

“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.

“What do you do then, baby?”

Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words. 

But you had never acted on impulsion. 

And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question. 

Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.

“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”

“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out. 

“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.

Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”

“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”

A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off. 

“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead. 

“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”

Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined. 

Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke. 

“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”

“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”

“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”

You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”

“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”

“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal. 

“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists. 

A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”

“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”

Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum. 

But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously. 

And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command. 

“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.

Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”

“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.” 

Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body. 

“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly.  “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”

That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”

And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it. 

“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.

His dream girl. 

“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh. 

A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”

“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months. 

“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face. 

“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness. 

“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.

“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples. 

“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously. 

“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”

Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”

“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.” 

Eddie Munson was a little weird. 

But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel. 

“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”

Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight. 

“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.

“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand. 

“Ow, Eddie!” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you. 

“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum. 

“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”

You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine. 

Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.

“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose. 

Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need. 

“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”

“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”

“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”

“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him. 

“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit. 

“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency. 

The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!” 

Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.

“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion. 

You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded. 

His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”

The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny. 

Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick. 

His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.

“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting. 

His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.” 

“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”

Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.

Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”

His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”

While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”

He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years. 

“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”

You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.” 

With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny. 

His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.  

The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs. 

Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans. 

“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you. 

“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”

Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy. 

“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart. 

“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.

Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”

“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.

“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-

“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled. 

Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!

You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.

“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.

He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh

[the-cuntessa]

From dating John B and JJ, you have learned many things.

The first is that sharing a house with JJ and John B means mothering them. Constantly.

Reminding them to throw beer cans in the trash and not on the floor.

"JJ," You nudge him with your foot, making him stand up a little straighter.

"Yeah?"

"Throw the can out, boo."

"But--"

"That's how John B sprained his ankle. Get your ass up and chuck it. Please."

Telling them that when they spill water they actually have to mop it up.

"John B, man, I'm sinking into the floor here."

"Wood's probably rotted, don't worry about it. Gonna get this whole place redone once we get the gold."

"Didn't the girlfriend tell you to stop leaving water on the floor--oops."

"Dude!"

"This is why we listen to her. Fuck."

"There's a hole in my floor, JJ!"

"That's not my fault!"

"You jumped on it!"

"How was I supposed to know my foot would go through?!"

Not-so-subtly showing them that if they don't make dinner, they won't eat.

"Hey, Ma, when's dinner?"

"I told you that I wasn't cooking tonight."

"But I'm hungry."

"I told you it was your night to cook, Jay."

"Yeah, but--"

"No buts. If you cook, John B does it tomorrow. We rotate, that's how this works."

"John B! The lady says make dinner!"

"No, I didn't!"

The second is that there's no changing the fact that you're becoming a little bit more of a slob yourself.

Leaving your clothes out and on the floor--it's just sucky to go back and pick them up after your boys get down and dirty, stripping you in the living room.

"JJ, have you seen my favorite panties?"

"No! Ask JB!"

"John B--"

"Back of the couch, and if they're not there, ask JJ! I told you to get 'em!"

Leaving your beer cans stacked up on the porch.

"Baby, what's with the, uh... collection?"

"I'm gonna make a mural."

"Out of beer cans?"

"Hey, I don't trash your beer-can lightsaber."

Hanging out bathing suits to dry until you have none left and have to collect them all.

"Baby, you dropped your top."

"Yeah, I-I can't get it. Will you grab it for me?"

"Sure. Oh, shit, I remember this top! This was the bikini you were wearing when I first met you."

"That's nice, John B."

"Does it still fit?"

"JJ, you're such a pervert!"

"What?! Honest question, Mamas!"

The third is that you love these boys with everything you are, and you're not leaving them. Ever.

[austinsastrology8991]

Mercury in da HoUSe (s) mercury and why you think your smart - you only think your smart, you don't even know if you are because you can't think any other way. I dont care if people tell you your smart, they don't even know if they are smart because they have the same dilemma as you....... but if you think your dumb your probs right.... okay enough chit chat we gotta do some astrollogy >> Mercury in the first - These guys talk the talk, hella good at talking, talk too much, but at least they know how to talk. but it gives everyone in the rooom a headache. also there voices go a million directions... they like to put on voices. actually i hate your voice. its too earpiercing its like your looking at there voice even if you look away. how are you able to make me look at yo voice, its meant to be auditory but i can fucking see it STFUUUU Mercury in the second - I like money but not as much as this guy. this guy will think of every scam, every business every investment possible just to prove his worth (typically with money) as kids they are hustlers with money, everyone knows they gonna make coin, but typically as they get older, money don't mean shit to them and they start investing into something substantial and if they dont grow outta this mindset, they become shells of themselves like bill gates or the amazon guy. mercury in the third - okay these guys are actually smart, but its almost hard to tell. because there intelljgence isn't attached to anything beside intelligence itself. so its hard to notice, but they are very smart people. quick learners but i notice not quick thinkers, or at least they don't voice it much. which i guess makes them smart because they ploying liek dat mercury in the fourth - subtle intelligence, almost manipulative intelligence, they are the types to make you make a point jsut so they can point out the flaws in your point rather than make a argument themselves.... then make an argument once yours has been smashed to pieces. assholes honestly... but i rate it its just smart tactics but make em talk first and they speechless lmao mercury in the fifth - funny yes your funny, yes i see what you did there, oh yes this next joke is also funny because it ties in with your last joke.. did i mention your funnY? oh im not that funny, well im sorry i can't do it like you becayse yourr liek for real funny. okay can someone else speak now, this guys voice wasn't annoying but now it is. fr comedians but every comedian over do it, and so do they mercury in the sixth - annoying intelligence, always pointing out the flaws in whatever the fuck you just said. like dude im trying my best to think, to then speak it, and to respect you as a person. and your lookjing for flaws, in my speech? oh you can't help it? well i can't help but not wanna talk to you. annoyingly nitpicky with what i say you say she say, why so serious? oh your too smart? thats what every dumbass has ever said to me stfu. mercury in the seventh - always on your back, but can you get off my back, im still working on my argument i dont need you to suck me off about it jeezes. id rather you criticize me honestly. oh now your critical of me. well why can't you just think for yourself. oh you don't know how to. you only don't know how to because you just wanna learn more and more and more and more and more. and now you dont know how to think for yourself. congrats you played yoself mercury in the eighth - so mysterious wow so profound, i never saw it that way. no you just were thinking of something cool to say this whole time and you jsut thought of it. your only quiet so you dont look like a fool. insecure bitch ass. oh but now you just wanna insult me yeah thats because i called you out. honestly these guys are just looking for a deep chat, and its only deep because they were digging for so long.

mercury in the ninth - these guys know way too much bullshit. like they read a lot and just spit random facts and its hard to talk to them without feeling patronized. like yeah we get it, you read a lot. most peole don't because we like to be a human, not live in a book. go outside its nice. oh thats where you get your information > outside, books, the world is your dictionary - god you really are annoying. oh you knew that already. fuck off man.

mercury in the tenth - shrewd; always thinking and saying the best possible thing to say for each scenario, and its typically just sayings they read in hustler books, or what they dad said once. yeah your street smart, but no one else advertises it as much as you, which means you don't understand the streets as well as you think. yep thats right re-strategise; they just wanna own the streets i swear. and no one tries as hard as them. and thats saying something mercury in the eleventh - stop protesting you mong, you really think convincing us the realities of the world, will change the world? oh itll start the butterfly effect, okay true go on, tell us how eating veggies gonna stop the meat industry. oh you were just saying this crap for bants. yep that was annoying. oh now you wanna talk about how attitudes has shaped the world, dude why you always trying to integrate everysingle philsophy of the world into one conversation. you do realise its all bullshit? but everyone likes em because they invite everyone in on the conversation... hey someone gota do it Mercury in the twelfth - these guys are the worst i swear, cant be more manipulative than these lot, they will act innocent, but come at you aggressivly, and itll just confuse ya. youll think they just dumb and naive but they klnow damn well what da hell they doing. play yo game with someone else... oh you don't like to play with them because they fall for your shit, yep so you only like people who set you straight ehhhh you should just come at me straight or ill set you straight. oh you just struggle with convos well it shows.

[bemygunstomyroses]

The Lost Boys riding in your car with you would include: Part 2

Summery: This is just unhinged, again.

Warnings: GN reader! Swearing, implying smut, the boys being like animals, we know the drill!

Read part one first before you read this one so ya understand it better! Love ya! ❤️

Alright, we're back in the car. Everyone is seated in their assigned spots. David is in the front passenger seat, Marko is on the right in the back, with Paul in the middle and Dwayne on the left. Double-checked and confirmed, right? Okay!

You and your boys are on the road again but this time you guys are going through the city.

Buckle up if you aren’t already because these boys are fucking maniacs once again!

The lights of Santa Carla are bright and bold as you slowly get stuck in traffic trying to reach your destination. Don't think you'll get bored because you won't. You have four dingbats with you to keep you occupied!

Marko is displaying road rage even though he's not the one driving.

“Come on! Pick up your lazy ass! We have places to be you asshole!” Marko would yell out the window with his head out making you embarrassed and keeping your head down from the eyes looking around.

Paul would probably join in the trash talk as well. Most likely will flip em’ off.

Your the kind that would keep a little basket of snacks in the back of the car in case you get hungry while driving, of course the boys are going to go through your stash and eat most of the snacks.

“Can one of you pass me that chocolate bar in the snack basket?” You ask pudding your hand backwards to get your treat. Meanwhile the basket is in Paul’s and Marko’s lap, digging through every inch of the tub.

"Oops, sorry babe, but we're out of snacks. Marko must have eaten the last one," Paul lied through his teeth, throwing Marko under the bus.

“No I didn’t you asswipe!” Marko yells, his voice booming in the car. This ends up with the two wrestling in the back seat, while bumping into poor Dwayne who is already smashed into the side of the door.

"You're both going to make me lose my temper! If you don't behave, I'll be forced to turn this car around!" You warned the two of them, shooting them a stern look.

They both mumbled a quick "Sorry" and then dove right back into snacking as if nothing had happened.

David’s hand is of course on your thigh, drawing little shapes and squeezing your soft skin, traveling his hand slightly higher making you a blushing mess.

"David..." you whispered urgently, making sure no one else could hear.

David leaned in close, tilting his head and whispering in your ear, "We can always throw them out of the car. I know I can make you fog up the windows." His teasing tone conveyed a mischievous confidence, and you could feel the smirk on his face.

You lightly smack his chest but he suddenly takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles with ease.

While you all are waiting for the never moving traffic to move (Which is doesn’t) the two blondes take this opportunity to hop out of the car and basically do stupid shit.

Running around the car. Hopping out in front of other cars, presumably giving everyone the bird, meanwhile, the people are honking their horns and getting agitated. (I wouldn’t blame them)

When everyone is back in the car, Paul takes this time to go through your CDs and cassettes and pick out the “good music” he said.

“Baby, you need more music taste! Remind me to take you to the store”.

Paul, I'm going to throw you out of this car!

If you get too tired of driving, David or Dwayne, you know good well Marko and Paul ain’t doing shit.

As David decided to drive, you might wonder who would be relegated to the passenger seat. In reality, no one; instead, they would accommodate you by making space in the back, provided the car is spacious enough. In some cases, if space is limited, you may find yourself seated on someone's lap. The concept of seatbelts becomes minor when you are in the company of vampires!

Dudes all probably gonna pop a boner

When you sit with all three of them they are smothering you in kisses, Paul tickles your sides making you squirm and laugh loudly and Marko pinching your sides.

Dwayne being a cuddle bug and pulling you into his chest. <3

David obviously can’t miss out so he’s reaching his hand back to touch you of course.

“Hey man! You’ve been touching them all night!” Paul whined and cooed at the leader.

“Fuck off, Paul.” David barks and refuses to stop holding your hand.

As the evening unfolded, you found myself resting my head on Dwayne’s lap, with your feet reaching out to Marko, and Paul providing support in the middle.

Dwayne playing with your hair with his slender fingers making you almost fall asleep. Paul playing with your fingers and Marko massaging your feet. It’s all very relaxing, that’s until David decides he’s getting bored and break checks the car and you all go flying forward-

“Whoops, break check”. Is all David would say with a grin on his face. You all don’t take it seriously and just laugh who the boys make sure you didn’t bang anything up.

After all, David navigates the car into an open field for you all to sit and enjoy looking at the beautiful stars. Dwayne Grabs a blanket from the trunk and places it on the soft grass. Paul puts on the radio some soft rock ballads and turns the volume up just enough to head the music.

You all cuddle up on the blanket and stargaze the night away, while all the boys are stealing passionate kisses on your lips.

“Hey, the shape of those stars are making kinda looks like a giant dick-“ Paul said out loud and for a moment everyone is silent, then you all erupt in laughter, Marko and Paul then tries to find more “stars” and pointing their fingers up at them.

“That one kind of looks like a heart”. You say and you point your finger. The boys share a smile on their faces. “You’re right”. David said and he kisses your cheek.

Paul began to say, "That one kinda looks like-" but was interrupted as Marko and Dwayne playfully tackled him, and they all ended up wrestling in the dewy grass.

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt bbut a Karen makes their S/O cry? :0

It's the readers first ever encounter with one in the wild and at first Y/N just,,, tries to ignore the woman/leave but the Karen does the usual of not letting em leave and then Y/N gets overwhelmed and starts crying?-

BAHAHHAAB I LOVE FUCKING WRITINF ABOUT KARENS I CANNOT LMFAOOOOOO ; thank you for the request lol ; I got a random strike of writers block halfway through and its very obvious I'm sorry

MCYT ; wild karen encounter

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, iterations of homophobia/transphobia & fatphobia, Karen activity, reader is described as nonbinary

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you two went different ways while clothes shopping and you were looking at more fem/masc (whichever doesn't conform with your sex) clothing

you felt someone glaring daggers at you so you glanced up and saw some random ass woman staring at you, accompanied by her 13ish year old son

she started making remarks about how you shouldn't be looking at those clothes and it's not "modest" for a little young man/woman like you

like mf you're nonbinary huh

you try to ignore her, meanwhile her son looks SO uncomfortable and wants to very obviously leave

she starts recording you out of no where to call you slurs and the sons just like "mom stop" and of course she doesn't

you end up crying and trying to hide it while you defend yourself but you get quickly overstimulated and flustered

the yelling caught Tommy's attention so he quickly walks over like "woah, woah, woah, what's going on?"

and she starts SCREAMING at poor Tommy about you

he looks at you literally wiping your tears while she's STILL recording it and he just peacefully flames her ass

"it doesn't matter what the hell they wear, clothes don't have gender and I could care less about what my partner buys and wears and how they express themselves. go post that to Facebook and look like a fuckin' idiot."

he pulls you away to the changing rooms so you can talk in private and eventually try on the clothes you were looking for

while he was going that he got a hold of a nearby security officer and told them about the situation since you'd both been illegally recorded on the premises of the store

he didn't wanna press charges for you or anything but at least wanted the woman escorted out to look more like a dumbass, considering the security guard had to call the police because what she did was a crime

couple days later you found the video and bodycam footage of the woman being detained and arrested for resisting arrest and recording someone without consent on private property, which is marked as a felony where you live

live laugh love Tommy bc everyone in the video description was hyping him up and saying how bad they felt for you and even the son 🫶

RANBOO

dude you can't even go grocery shopping without people bitching about you guys

you were just trying to pick out some chips and this lady walks past with a scoff

ran quickly turns around like, "Sorry, can we help you?"

she quickly starts yelling about how you gay people are all going to hell and shit

ranboo quickly spits back but you get overstimulated and really take it to heart and you tear up a bit

the lady notices and points it out

she then follows you around the store, yelling at you and shit while they're on the phone dialing the non emergency police line because wtf is wrong w this lady???

before you're questioned and after she's detained, you guys stand alone and try to calm yourself down because you were just getting really stressed about it because wtf do you even do in that situation

gives you a big hug and reassures you that it's okay to cry

he's generally just proud of you in general for being able to hold yourself together for the most part

FREDDIE BADLINU

you two were going out for a little movie date, and dressed in tuxedos to watch Saw X

some dumbass dude was making snarky comments to his wife about you two considering you were holding hands while ordering snacks

Freddie turns around, having heard the guy talking about you thinking he dropped something "can I help you?" He asks in the nicest tone possible

the man and his wife both start making nasty comments about "this generation going to hell" and how you're brainwashing Freddie or something???

you almost immediately start crying because you're trying to ignore it and talk to the girl behind the counter filling your popcorn bucket who doesn't know what to do

she quickly pushes the security button under the counter because she can see your distress and how Freddie was just like stunned as he looked between the couple and you cause like wth

once they're escorted out you're the first in the theater so you guys sit there and talk it all out because you got really overwhelmed

he gives you a hug and reassures you that you did nothing wrong and you're gonna enjoy the movie

the dude had a warrant out for his arrest for not paying child support anyways L

NIKI NIHACHU

you two were out on a walk in a park holding hands and shit and passed this little family down by the creek

the mom just goes full fucking demon mode and starts recording you guys and shouting at you

niki quickly retaliated with a "leave us alone!" before walking off

you were visibly pretty shaken but she reassures you everything is okay and she probably wasn't even recording

she ends up finding the video a few days later

thankfully all the comments were supporting you two and flaming the lady's ass lmao

QUACKITY

you guys were out doing stuff (getting shit at home depot for quackitys new house and peojects) and some Karen was judging your abilities to handy-man basically

"actually, my partner is the best handyman I know! so shut the fuck up"

the Karen immediately goes to the front to get a manager or some shit

meanwhile yall quickly checkout and leave

while leaving you see her getting detained for resisting an officer with violence and threatening an officer 🥰

that becomes a story you tell at every single "family reunion" (meetup with friends)

he still boasts about yelling at someone like that

FOOLISH GAMERS

you guys were out getting snacks for a movie night with friends that were staying over

some Karen made a comment how you needed to go on a diet or some shit since you were the one carrying the basket full of unhealthy snacks

foolish quickly whips around and flames her ass

you just kinda stand there like "wtf"

foolish slings an arm around your shoulders and leads you away since she wouldn't stop blabbering and was threatening to call the cops for some reason

back in the car he reassures you that you do not need to go on a diet and you don't need to listen to the lady whatsoever

movie night was 10/10 you watched Barbie & roasted Saltburn bc that movie wasn't good like at all

[papil0nglegs]

Scout x Teen!Reader(PLATONIC!)

Need a big brother? Scout is here!!

Scout defends you with his life if you’re a teen on the team

Sure you guys were def breaking several laws about general warfare, but he didn’t care. He wanted you have the best time you could have here

The entire team is either hard on you or doesn’t think you can do much for this war. Scout knew how it felt to be considered ‘useless’, so he was able to bond with you pretty fast

If anyone even SLIGHTLY argues with you, this bitch kicks down the door of whatever room it’s happening in and runs to defends you. Doesn’t matter what you did

“I MAKING SURE YALL DONT JUMP EM’ 🙄 THE FUCK???” Immediately squaring up

“Scout we were just talking about what to have for breakfast..”

“Oh, MAKE THE KID WHAT THEY WANT CMONN”

We all know spy is pushy, he feels for you sometimes because he sees you as scouts sibling and tries to mold you into what he wanted scout to be but fails because of the way he teaches

“Dude cut the kid some slack, alright? They didn’t know what they were doin’ out there. We shoulda told em’ about the cart.”

“No one will cut them any slack out there, so why should we? They must learn their own way otherwise they become failures.”

Scout truly hated Spy at that moment, shaking his head as spy’s sly ass walked away.

Teaches you how to play baseball omg?? (If you ever win he was def going easy on you)

Will try to brush your hair in the morning but instead of brushing he just does little strokes on the top of your head

“Am I doin’ it?”

“Um, yeah!”

No.1 hype man, dancing in the middle of battle because that’s a thing in the tf2 universe? You better believe he’s right there cheering you on.

“YOU GOT THAT SHIT ON Y/N!!”

“YES, THANK YOU!”

Will be buying you a hat exactly like his, calls you ‘mini scout’ whenever you wear it

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'Till You Make It | Part 3

“Alright so, how long has this throwing men at you thing been happening?” Not a sentence Eddie Munson ever expected to be saying out loud, especially not to Steve Harrington, but there they were, sat in the back of his van, which Eddie had parked just off of Cornwallis, his van hidden among the trees, safe from prying eyes.

They had to get their story straight, even if nothing about what they were doing was straight, that had to be straight. Especially straight enough to fool a goddamn lawyer like Lynda Harrington.

Eddie was just glad he’d left the pillows and blankets in there from the other week when he’d claimed he had a love nest in his van to a particularly horrified set of parents.

Nothing quite like the mental image of your barely legal precious daughter getting down an dirty in the back of a beat up old van. Fabulous.

It was actually quite nice though, he even put fairy lights up in there.

“The whole shebang, just over a month. But the men… that’s new. They haven’t managed to actually introduce me to anyone yet, one of the joys of queer shit being so frowned upon, they cant find a willing guy to come forward.” No-one daring enough to take the risk, not even for a Harrington.

“Can’t say I blame em, you’re having to pay me to out my own ass to your parents, they’re well respected, people expect them to be on the ‘right’ side of history” ‘right’ said with very sarcastic air quotes and matching tone.

“People are gonna be surprised then.” About as surprised as Steve was, probably. “So… are you… I mean… outing yourself? It’s… you don’t have to tell me but—I just… if they want proof i—I don’t wanna make you—” Steve was staring into his lap, awkward, cheeks flushed, adorable. Fucking… adorable… not a term of endearment he ever thought he’d throw at Steve Harrington.

So many unexpected turns for a Sunday morning.

“Mnhm, I’m ah… like you I suppose. Only I think I’m more of a five on the Kinsey scale…” at Steve’s raised brow and adorable puppy head tilt, Eddie smiled sheepishly, of course the King of the Jocks wouldn’t know what the damn Kinsey scale was. “That’s uh… it kinda measures bisexuality? It’s rarely an exact 50/50 split between liking guys and girls, most lean one way or the other, with an interest in more… I uh… I lean more towards men… you…”

“Girls… I think.” Eddie nodded, it was what he expected. “But—what’s the scale?”

“Zero to six, six being gay and zero being straight. I’m pretty solidly a five I think…” five made sense to him. He’d found girls attractive before, maybe even had a crush on one once, a pretty cheerleader who’d made his palms sweaty and his heart beat fast enough to make him turn tail and run in terror, but boys were his go to. “It’s not an exact science though, I mean shit, you don’t have to label anything.”

“… I feel like a three.”

“A three?” Higher than he expected but, as of that morning he’d thought Steve was a zero. No clue what so ever that he’d ever even entertained the idea of boys.

“Mn… I’ve… I’ve definitely been attracted to men before, a few men actually… some ruined it immediately by being assholes” Eddie didn’t want to guess, but a few jocks did come to mind “but… I’ve never tried anything, y’know?” Aww, never touched a boy, cute. “And telling my parents? That was recent, like, really recent, and impulsive. I just didn’t expect them to pull this whole ‘we can throw men at you now!’ Schtick so… to answer your original question, about two weeks now. Why?”

“Building a believable timeframe so we can have an idea as to where they might expect us to be in our ‘relationship.’ Your mom’s a lawyer right? Shits not gonna be as easy as telling them we’re dating and have that be that she’s gonna want the when’s, the how’s, the details, normal moms do, yours is a lawyer dude, we have to be spot on with everythin or this will be a total waste of time, and money on your part cause obviously, no refunds.” He may not be dealing as much as he used to be once he realised he had other more valuable services to offer,

And the party king stopped throwing parties??

But his policies were still pretty iron tight.

Steve just nodded his head, he understood, Eddie couldn’t get his time back so, however many days he spent there, he’d be paid for each one regardless of the outcome. “Alright… what do you normally do with these dates then?”

“Freak the fuck out of their parents usually. Be vulgar, insinuate things, the Gillespie’s hate being called by their first names?? No idea why, but that was an easy spot to poke at, I’ll talk about my band, offer weed to chill out, y’know, typical things that’d make a parent in rural Indiana pale at the thought that their sweet daughters had only skimmed the surface of the dating pool, finding just the scum the pool boy hadn’t cleaned out and settling with it.”

It could have been self-deprecating, in fact Steve almost told him not to think of himself like that but Eddie seemed genuinely amused by the whole thing, it was all an act.

He was a mischievous gremlin, he was making himself the worst of the worst in front of these people, he didn’t think he was that person, he just acted the part like some kind of drama club performance.

Oh god, wasn’t he in drama? “…That’s uhm… that’s a mental image.”

“I’m a storyteller” Eddie shrugged “sometimes I talk about DnD too, and—”

“I mean how do you prepare for them?”

“Oh… not much to prepare for on those ones, it’s usually just one night and the main goal is to fuck it up so bad that the girls’ parents don’t want their daughter going anywhere near that stupid pool out of the fear that she’ll settle for scum again, this is the first long term relationship I’ve had to fake! And you want me to fake it properly, not just fuck it up, I mean… It can’t be a surprise to you that I’ve never been in a relationship, right?”

Steve wanted to be polite, he really did! But no, it wasn’t a surprise.

Not because Eddie wasn’t attractive, it’d be a lie to claim that. Eddie Munson was… a special kind of attractive to Steve. The oh god what? Kind of attractive that only existed when a polo-wearing jock type like Steve, found someone like Eddie attractive.

That kind of attractive.

He had a nice, soft face, framed perfectly by a mass of badly maintained curls. Not badly in the way that they were dirty, just… it was clear he had no idea how to tame them, how to enhance them, how to do anything with them other than apparently put a brush through them and make himself look like he’d been dragged through a bush. Twice.

He had those big brown eyes, expressive, could easily find himself stuck in them if he looked for too long.

The smile with the dimples? Gold star on that one.

He didn’t have acne, or pimples, he didn’t stink, he clearly cared about basic hygiene, but that was all surface level stuff.

He was also expressive about his interests, which was an attractive trait, he was sneaky smart.

Sure teachers had all but written him off as an imbecile and he’d heard a few saying that over the years to the poor guys face, but Steve had seen Eddie do difficult multiplications on the fly.

He’d seen Eddie recite Shakespeare off the top of his head, prattle off verse after verse, sometimes free styling in perfect iambic pentameter if the teachers dropped jaw was enough of a sign.

He'd seen Eddie climb a rope in gym. Dude was squirrelly, he had muscle in those arms, and nobody in that gym knew where he’d built it. Maybe he wasn’t gifted at dodgeball, but he could sure as hell climb shit.

He’d seen Eddie be an effective businessman. Tommy had bought from him a few times, and he’d seen Eddie dealing at his parties. The guy knew his shit when it came to drugs, he didn’t just deal and bail, he stuck around and made sure people were safe. Could always answer questions if people had them, so he could retain knowledge just fine, it just had to align with his interests.

School didn’t work for him, that didn’t make him unintelligent. Steve could respect that. Steve could relate to that. Except he did feel like he was kind of an idiot.

But no… it wasn’t a surprise that Eddie hadn’t been in a relationship.

People looked at him warily in school, he put up a shield around himself made of barbs shot at every clique the school had, he fired off pastor at a megachurch worthy sermons about being against conformity and capitalism from atop school lunch tables.

He was in band, drama club, AV club, the dude was a nerd of the highest order, the ‘image conscious’ girls of Hawkins High didn’t wanna be seen with that.

So even if he did sort of like girls, stupid high school girls wouldn’t like him. Wouldn’t appreciate him the way he should be appreciated.

“…No, I guess it’s not a surprise… high school sucks though, man. There’s no permanence in high school flings.”

“Would have at least liked a fling though, that would have been cool.” Would he though? No. As much as it didn’t align with the whole rockstar life he had thought up for himself, he wanted something… bulkier. Something with more to it than surfing strangers beds. He wanted permanence.

Wanted someone to come home to, arms he knew, a garden he could fuck around in, maybe a tree to sit in and write songs on warm summer days.

A fireplace to snuggle up in front of with a special someone.

Maybe a kid, or three.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Eddie. Trust me. You had fun doing what you did, I got my heart stomped on over and over again, not fun.” It didn’t sound fun. Eddie wanted to reach out, it wasn’t far, they were in a small van, two pretty tall guys, there wasn’t much space there, he could have reached out but… the space between them still felt too vast.

“…Guess it’s a tend to your own field kind of thing then eh?” Steve looked at him with a small frown, a question in his expression “y’know… the grass is always greener on the other side? Just tend to your own field, the grass will grow. Do your own thing, it’ll be better for you…? That kind of thing.”

“Ah… then yeah, it’s a tend to your own field kind of thing.” Eddie smiled and gently bopped his head in agreement. A surprisingly comfortable silence stretched for a moment until “I think… a week would be best. Say we’ve been dating a week, but met at one of your gigs a few weeks back maybe? It’d explain why I’ve been less than enthused about any of their choices. I was already into someone.”

“…You know about my gigs?” Oh could those brown eyes get any bigger?

“Yeah? Tuesdays at The Hideout right? Dustin keeps trying to bribe me into taking him…” Eddie’s smile turned a little softer, warmer, prettier, he had such a soft spot for that kid it wasn’t even fair. “I could say Robin an I decided to check it out to see if it was ‘kid friendly’ enough to take him, Robin introduced us since she’d know you from band, you teased me about being there, but not in a mean way cause beneath all those barbs at us poor jocks, you’re actually really nice, and we just hit it off? Took us a bit of time to feel each other out cause it’s dangerous to be like us but once we did it was like… bam. Stars collided or some shit.”

“…You’re… surprisingly in tune with this queer shit, Harrington…”

“I’ve known I was bisexual for a while, Eddie… it’s not new to me, I know it’s dangerous, I’ve seen what jocks like me do to people like me… even when there’s no proof only rumour or because you look it… I know how dangerous it is to be like us… but do you think it’d work though?”

“…The barebones story is there, we can world-build. Now let’s talk boundaries.”

Part 5