#jesus christ what a load of tags

[wouldntyouliketoknowthat]

Does anybody know who to ask about Multiple personality disorder experiences because I don’t wanna go around asking people question that bug them like an annoying bigot but I’m also needing to double check if I’m just being weird or if I’m experiencing something

[hyewka]

Okay okay!

Imagine walking in on long time bestfriend Kai using a pussy pocket on himself! Like...he's whimpering and moaning, edging himself and bullying his pretty dick with it.

And reader is like standing there not knowing what to do in a situation like this except feel the heat pool between her legs until Kai loudly chants reader's name while he's cumming...moaning and whining as he drains himself of everything he's got.

(+ he has such a sweet, reddened face, all sweaty and breathy but his arms are all veiny, wrapped around his huge cock!!....???!!)

From your new freaky deeky anon that loves you so much!!

- 🩰

warnings. assumed kai stole mc’s panties, perv!kai, pocket pussy, sub!kai, childhood best friends, not proofread i got a little excited over this ask lol

when your parents decided to take up the chance of renting a summer vacation home with kai’s family tagging along, practically tight knit family friends because of you and kai’s inseparability since childhood, you agreed in a heartbeat. though you basically see hueningkai enough as it is, you haven’t seen his parents and sisters in forever.

it’s all cheerful and relaxing, getting pulled into a tight, all too familiar hug by kai’s mom when they finally arrive a few hours after you guys settled in, on about how much she missed you and playfully scolding you for not catching up with her that often. “any boyfriend yet?” she teases with a tilt to her voice.

you groan, cheeks hurting with the smile permanent on your face. “not yet aunty, still single.”

“but you’re such a pretty young lady!” Her flattery always has you feeling giddy because you know she means it every time. “stop it” you mutter, carrying her bag for her.

“you know he’s available right?” she gestures towards kai who was unloading the suitcases from the trunk. you unintentionally hone in the bead of sweat that drips down his face, the sun blazing hot shining on him. damn. you snap out of it when she speaks up again. “when you guys get married, i’m owed a thousand.”

you chuckle when he snaps his head to you guys as if his ears are trained to pick up on a conversation that had to do with marriage when it comes out of his mother’s mouth. this is such a typical interaction, always reminding you that you and kai might as well just get married already with like, five kids—you’re almost unfazed. “mom, stop!” he whines, the tips of his ears red.

“hey, this is a girl’s conversation you’re not allowed to join in.” she shoos and you almost double over in laughter at his facial expression as he immediately drops it, going in the house dragging two suitcases loaded with a duffel bag. he always pouts whenever he’s frustrated and its the funniest thing ever.

“he’s such a baby, jesus.” she sighs. “but he’s lovable.” it comes from a motherly place, but it still feels almost like she’s giving you a nudging.

he’s lovable.

but you know that. he is your best friend after all. So you laugh it off.

#######################

you feel like such a pervert. you’ve been standing here for an entire five minutes without a single movement of a muscle. but between the two of you, who was the nastier one?

the one peeking through the already halfway opened door coincidentally or the one having a pair of lace underwear pressed under their nose…while deliriously jacking off. well, okay, you’re kind of at fault for being glued to your spot and not just shutting the door for his privacy but jesus christ. kai was using an entire sex toy in a house full of family? you know the walls were pretty sound proof but your paranoia would dispel any reason for you to act on any sexual urges, so jesus christ.

was he that horny? well he looked it seeing that his legs were entirely spread on his bed. and were those his girlfriend’s panties? but his mom said he was available? so whose-

you’re scared shitless when you notice kai’s clouded, glazed over eyes firmly on you, no longer shut—your hand on the door knob shake. but once again you’re frozen in place, no matter how much your brain tells you to move, you can’t and even crazier, he doesn’t stop even when theres a flash of panic in his features getting rid of the panties pressed to his nose, no—in fact his hand almost blurs as he slides the pocket pussy up and down on his glistening cock. god, his cock. it’s pretty. holy shit it’s pretty. like every part of him, somehow he manages to make an organ that resembles a fucking overcooked hotdog look good. you feel your throat dry, because even more than it not standing weird or bending in directions, it was fucking huge.

you jolt a little when you hear creaking of stairs, immedietely entering inside hueningkai’s room and shutting the door behind you in panic. you lock it.

“fuck.” you breathe. you think you might’ve lost your mind. you really do. because in normal circumstances you would probably unintentionally cockblock him, or at least say something. anything. but you’re fucking enamored at the way his brows furrow, the way he hisses low curses, his broad chest unrhythmic as it falls up and down, heaving.

you’ve always had a hint of his size the few times you’ve caught what you assumed to be accidental boners, but you didn’t know it was this big. It’s almost intimidating. and it has you rubbing your thighs pathetically.

the squelching sounds of the terribly gracious amount of lube and what you assume to be his precum barely does the job of drowning out his pathetic mewls and whining.

all color drains from your face when he calls out to you. it almost felt like you were watching a camboy for a second there. “Y/N, fuck-fuck fuck, are you-” he chokes, the sweat making his face practically glow under the dim light of his room. “do you like this?” he pants, eyes wet and big—the most vulnerable you’ve seen them.

you find yourself dumbly nodding, like you were under some sort of spell, unable to get out words as his moan strains with a final breath, bucking his hip up with the pocket pussy firmly pressed down in his entire length. It looks straight out of a porno the way his mouth falls open, your name out of his lips sinfully once again as he tenses, orgasming.

your instinct is to immediately go to cover his mouth, because for a moment there, he was too goddamn loud! but, god was that a mistake. Because you get a closer look of the drenched panties peeking from under him and your breath hitches.

then your eyes slowly trail back to kai’s that were just completely fucked out. the sheets being covered with dried semen has you guessing that hes been going at it for hours.

was that why his texts to you to shut the bathroom lights were so weirdly full of misspellings? did he…leave the door open on purpose?

his whimper against your palm sends jolts, and your eyes widen at seeing he had his hand on his cock again, pain etched on his eyes, clearly from the overstimulation but he tugs until its growing hard in his hand again, all while holding his eyes on your face. you gulp.

this was going to be a long week.

###################

note. i love childhood best friends sub!kai like theres somethinggg about him

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[rodolfoparras]

I just know this man has somnophilia

He'd sleep naked on purpose knowing when you come back home, pent up from the long day to see nothing but a thin layer of the sheets covering his ass.

He'd be prepared already. Ready for your use. His claws would tear the pillows while he whines in his sleep because of your cock hitting places nobody else can. I dare say he'd squirt when he cums.

In the morning he'd wake up to the bed empty but his ass full and plugged with a gorgeous butt plug you left behind. He personally requested to purchase it because he wants to know what you did last night cause his healing factor would cover any signs of it.

Then he'd jack off to the thought and feeling of his ass full of multiple loads.

(Sorry if there's no Commas I do not know how to use those even in my mother language)

Have a horny day/night!

WHY ARENT YOU GUYS IN THE STUDIO (TOP MALE READER TAG) I NEED THESE FICS IMMEDIATELY Jesus Christ him using a butt plug so he can see the evidence from the other night bc his healing factors would cover up most bruises and what not 3?3?3!?3?4?4?4?!4!3!3!3??3? MASTERFUCKIMGNPIECE

[haunted-headset]

🤍 Did You Just Flinch? 🤍

Summary: You flinched when he yelled at you.

word count: 761

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

cw: cursing, arguing, use of Y/N, you/yours pronouns used, reader flinches, hurt/comfort, Wilbur being kind of a dickhead, mentions of past abuse, use of a pet name at the end

a/n: hey guys! Quick little story: I watched a video that was basically Wilbur getting mad for like 3 or so minutes, & the first clip was Wilbur pretending to be angry at someone who was interviewing him, & Wilbur yells very loudly & I flinched & I thought "that's a banger idea for a fic, good job, me!" so yeah!! :) here's the video if you wanna see

You & Wilbur both had terrible days. You didn't get a wink of sleep because of work & stress, & the entire week, you two were snippy with each other. You didn't blame him for any of it; he was stressed, & he was tired. Today, however, you were a little angry with him for it. You two had been extra snippy last night & had an argument, & that led to Wilbur choosing to sleep on the couch, & he didn't give you your good morning kisses & hugs when he left for the studio. He just said muttering a goodbye. Not once, in all of the years of dating you, did he ever not kiss you before he left. Even if you were screaming at him the night before or you were both pissed off at each other, he'd still do it.

When you finally got home from work, you found Wilbur sitting at his desk in the office, a mug of coffee next to his laptop. He was tapping his foot repetitively & he looked tired. His hair was tousled & his eyelids were drooping. You walked over to grab the coffee mug & he grabbed your wrist, not hard enough to hurt you.

"I'm still drinking that," he sighed.

"Hello to you too," you replied. He sighed again. "I'm just refilling your coffee for you."

"I didn't ask you to do that," he snapped. "I can do it myself."

"What is your issue today?" you said, somewhat annoyed.

"What's my issue?!" he said, raising his voice slightly. "What's your issue?! You've been such an ass to me this week! You're not making the stress any fuckin' easier!"

"Neither are you!" you said, your voice also raising. "You're being an ass, too! A massive one!"

"Oh, j--FUCK OFF!" he said, now yelling. "Fuck off! You think--you just sat there thinkin' you're tough shit, didn't you, fuckin' wanker?"

You froze. He's never yelled at you like that before.

"I-I can leave & let you be if you want--" you started in a small voice.

"Oh, so you're just fuckin' dumping me now?!" he shouted. "Is that what you're doing?! You're trying to break up with me?! What a fuckin' load of bollocks!"

"No no no no!" you said, still using that soft voice. "I-I was just going into another--"

"What, are you gonna try & cheat on me?!" he yelled, somehow getting louder. "Is that what this is, you fuckin' wanker?"

"Not at all!" you said quietly. "Not at all! I wouldn't dream of--"

"SPEAK UP!" he nearly shrieked as he raised his hand. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

You flinched & covered your head as you shook & were on the verge of tears. He was most likely going to hit you. That's what the last few did.

Wilbur froze. He lowered his hand & looked at you with shock. Tears began to fill his eyes.

"Did you just flinch?" he said, almost a whisper. "Love, I--I wasn't going to hurt you. I would never."

You didn't say anything. You just sobbed.

"Oh my God, darling," he whispered, his voice cracking. He moved your hands away from your face & wrapped his arms around your waist as he took in the sight of your trembling lips & tearful eyes.

"I'm not like him, love," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I would never even dream of hurting you, okay? I'm so sorry I scared you. I shouldn't have yelled."

& you broke down in his arms as he buried your head in his chest & let out a few small cries of his own. You both mumbled apologies to each other constantly as you hugged each other like your lives depended on it. Suddenly, he picked you up bridal style & placed you on the bed.

"Wait right here, okay?" he said, brushing the hair away from your face. "I'm going to run the store."

He came back a few moments later with a full grocery bag. When you opened the bag, you saw your favorite snacks, drinks, candy, a plushie, & a pair of slippers.

"Wil, this is too much--" you started. He cut you off with a gentle kiss.

"Nothing is too much for my sunflower," he smiled. "Now, what movie do you want to watch?"

For the rest of the night, you two watched your favorite movies & TV shows, & when it was time to go to bed, you two cuddled & talked & giggled with each other until you fell asleep in his arms.

[katyawriteswhump]

eternal summer

For  @harringrovesummerbingo

Title: Eternal Summer  Square and prompt: C2 “Is your dream more important than me?” Rating: M WC: 570. Major tags: Harringrove, angst, non-explicit smut, Incubus!Billy, age gap, no upside down au, dark-ish ending which is also a happy ever after, slightly soft harringrove.

and @harringrovemicroficandart 4 prompts, fingers/slipping through my fingers by ABBA, mention of Jim Hopper. WC: 570.

Summary: Billy's nature enslaved him into killing pretty things. Then Steve happened.

...

“What are you thinking about?” asked Steve, rolling over on the pillows beside Billy.

Billy couldn’t look Steve in the eye. “Just some dream.” 

“You look pretty pissed about it.”

Billy sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It made me think. Listen, I’ve gotta—"

“Is your dream more important than me?” Steve’s voice cracked. “Last night you said… Look, if you were shitting me… C’mon, be honest!” 

“Jesus, you’re needy! Yeah! I meant it. I love you.” Billy scrubbed his face wearily. “Got lost in dreams about you.”

“Oh. Why the sad-face… Crap!”

Billy jumped Steve, pinning him on his back, wrists secured either side of his head. Steve giggled, and Billy melted. God, Billy was two millennia old! The heat must’ve gone to his head to make him feel like a real dumb teen.

“What happened in that dream?” 

I made you mine forever. “You accuse me of talking too much?”

Billy silenced Steve with a searing kiss, enjoying Steve’s struggles, as he moaned, desperate, into Billy’s throat. He knew it confused Steve—how Billy was always stronger. When Billy pinned him, he could never fight free.

The kiss grew rough, bruising. Billy sensed the delicious tingle of Steve’s lifeforce ebbing from him. Tears pressed in Billy’s eyes:

I figured you were a bully. I meant to fuck you all summer, then disappear, leaving Hopper scratching his head over a dead teen, like a hundred lawmen before. Then I watched you ditch your friends to look after a bunch of nerdy kids. You begged for love, and I got weak. Now I dream of keeping you always as you are right now—a freeze-frame saved from the crazy tricks of time.

“Fuck me,” gasped Steve, interlacing his fingers with Billy’s, clinging.

“Gotta go.” I stay, you’re gonna get sick and die, or else I’m gonna have to… 

Steve pouted. Christ, he was such a kid! Billy unthreaded their fingers, letting Steve’s hand drop like a stone.

Later, Billy loaded up the Camaro. A BMW tore up and Steve jumped out: “You weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”

I should’ve hauled ass quicker.

“YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” Steve grabbed Billy’s collar, got right in his face. 

Billy shoved him away: “Dumbest mistake I ever made.”

In a flash of golden light, Billy revealed his true demon form. Steve staggered back, covering his face then peeping between his fingers:

“Holy shit! Are you an angel?” 

Billy reinstated his glamor, wondering what Steve had seen. Poor pretty fool must genuinely love him back. Only love played crazier tricks than time. 

Laughing, Billy took his trembling prey in his arms: “I’m a demon, Steve. An Incubus. If I stay, I’ll slowly suck”—literally fuck —”your life from you.”

“Wha—” Steve took a beat, frowned: “Is that like a vampire? You could turn me too, right?”

“Doesn’t work quite like that. I could make you my thrall.”

“Wha… I don’t know what that is.”

That night, Billy spread Steve out on the bed beneath him. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was tight. “You’re gonna fuck me all night, and then… Jesus, will it hurt?”

“No.” Billy trailed his fingers down the curve Steve’s throat, over his quivering lifeblood. Then spiralling down his spine, lower, deeper, relishing Steve’s throaty growls, the little trembles beneath his skin.

No slipping from my grasp now.

For the first time ever, Billy was gonna actually make love.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

All For Naught

Day #29 - Behind the Music | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: Jeff/Goodie (Freak), Minor Steddie Mention | Tags: Future Fic, Band Breakup, Angst, Jeff and Goodie are Best Friends, But Goodie Learned How to Run from Eddie, Unrequited Love, Or Is It?, Hopeful Ending

Jeff loads the last guitar into the back of the pickup. He can't believe it's over. Just like that. They tried so hard, for so long, that he kind of assumed that they would forever. 

He definitely hadn't expected Goodie to be the one to throw in the towel.

Not like this.

He thought if they broke up it would be Eddie that called it quits. Eddie, with Steve at home. Eddie with a whole life outside the band.

Or Gareth. He's getting married. It'd be fair to want to settle down, to stay close to home. To give up on the band that has only had middling success, at best. 

But, no. It was Goodie. His best friend, the one that he thought he'd ride or die with until the absolute end, that pulled the plug. Sure, they could get another bass player, but they'd made a promise to each other years ago that Corroded Coffin was the four of them, and the four of them alone.

No additions. No replacements.

So, with Goodie out, they're just done.

All they have left is cleaning out the rehearsal garage, dividing up stuff that they can't remember who it belonged to in the first place. They aren't even fighting. That's the thing that hurts the most. That they are all just resigned to letting this go.

It's been their life for almost two decades, and now it's just over.

Jeff moved back home for a while, but looking up at the ceiling in his childhood bedroom was too depressing, so as soon as he could get his shit together, he fled. Out of town, out of the state. 

He went from living in close proximity to the three of them, to now, all alone. Staring at the blank walls of his apartment as he tries to find a job. He had a job. It didn't pay particularly well, but he loved it. 

Loved Corroded Coffin. 

Loved them all.

Loved Goodie the most.

And now they haven't spoken in six weeks. Goodie's just vanished off the face of the earth, and Goodie's mom and dad won't tell Jeff anything useful. He's just gone.

His last private lesson of the day is over. The kids are kind of fun to teach, even if he doesn't expect any of them to be the next Jimi Hendrix.

He teaches lots of guitar, and a little piano. He knows enough to teach the beginners, anyway. 

Mr. Clarke, back home, was able to pull some strings, even from states away, vouching for him. And now he's a music tutor.

It pays well. He often makes more in an afternoon than his cut would be from a weekend of gigs. 

He's not passionate about it, not like he was about Corroded Coffin, but it definitely pays the bills more reliably.

Eddie and Steve have been out a couple times, and Gareth once, and they all tip-toe around him, like he might explode. Since when is he the unstable one? Eddie always had the dramatics locked down for himself.

"I'm fine," Jeff says for the tenth time since Eddie flopped onto his couch this afternoon.

"You're not," Eddie argues.

"Do you want me to cry, or what?" Jeff snaps.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you did."

Nothing is gonna make him feel better. His best friend basically wrote his ass off, along with everyone else, in one fell swoop. He took that pretty damn personally. How could he not? It was fucked. 

"Goods called last week," Eddie says, as casual as can be. 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. That's what you lead with. Not Steve's new lawnmower," Jeff bitches, "Well? Where is he?"

"He said the South of France, but I don't believe him," Eddie says.

No shit. Jeff wouldn't believe that either. Goodie hates the sun.

"Well, did he at least explain why he imploded the band?" Jeff asks, because that's what he needs to know.

"He didn't. But you know why," Eddie says, and Jeff pauses, looking at him.

He most definitely does not, "I do?"

"Think," Eddie stresses, as if Jeff hasn't been thinking about this, and only this, for months. 

"Because we weren't making money?"

"No," Eddie says.

"Because he had finally had enough of Gareth?"

Eddie laughs, "No. But a better guess."

"I don't know. I feel like maybe I never knew him at all, if he's capable of just bailing on us all for no good reason."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "C'mon. You know better than this. You know how he's always felt about you."

Jeff opens his mouth to laugh, but Eddie doesn't, so he snaps it closed again. No. That can't be. Goodie never. 

No, no, no.

"You're not saying…" Jeff trails off.

"I am saying. We all saw it. How did you not?" Eddie asks, and Jeff's confused. That's not. They never. Goodie never said anything. How was he supposed to guess that?

Goodie came out a few years ago, as loath as he was to follow in Eddie's footsteps about anything. 

Jeff's dated women and men. Why wouldn't Goodie just say something? It's not like there was a zero percent chance. 

But it must have felt like it to him, he supposes. 

Goddamnit.

Sure, there's been some moments over the years. But he was, is, his best friend. And not fucking up that, not fucking up the band, always quashed anything that ever bubbled to the surface.

And now, there's no best friend, and no band, so the caution was all for naught.

"Well, fuck," Jeff says, and Eddie laughs, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. 

An address.

The door opens, and Goodie looks surprised. Eddie didn't warn him.

Jeff takes one big step forward, pushing into his personal space, "You're an asshole."

It's not graceful. Too many teeth, and noses bumping like they've never done this before, but Jeff keeps at it, keeps kissing him, not intending to give him the opportunity to slip away again.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[girlylukehughes]

peace

part three of the folklore hockey fic!

warnings: implied smut(no real smut)

part one, part two. part three, part four

y/nhughes just posted!

liked by markestapa and 334,635 others

y/nhughes: But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm, if your cascade, ocean wave blues come."

tagged: markestapa

load comments...

_quinnhughes: i feel like i missed something.

—y/nhughes: quinn when he doesn't use instagram or read the family groupchat

——_quinnhughes: …

_quinnhughes: anyways... happy for you ig!

—y/nhughes: thanks quinnifer😁

markestapa: we’re so cute

—y/nhughes: the cutest

——lhughes06: im gonna vomit

———y/nhughes: vomit butterflies and rainbows right? because we are sooooo cute

————lhughes06: no.

user1: the way he looks at her i'm on the floor

edwards.73: still no photo creds i see how it is. next time i'm posting incriminating evidence.

—y/nhughes: markestapa should we be scared?

——markestapa: i don't think so????

———edwards.73: y/nhughes markestapa yes.

load more comments...

markestapa just posted!

liked by y/nhughes and 446,728 others

markestapa: And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child — give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other.

tagged: y/nhughes

load comments...

lhughes: MY EYES WHAT THE FUCK

lhughes: GET THIS OFF MY SCREEN

dylanduke25: luke is sitting with his head between his knees and is pulling his hair out

—y/nhughes: send pics

———markestapa: please do

jackhughes: WOAH WOAH WOAH BACK THE FUCK UP

—y/nhughes: go away

y/nhughes: when he listens to folklore and gets it >>>>

—markestapa: only for you

——y/nhughes: mwah mwah mwah mwah

_quinnhughes: jackhughes never send me this shit again i need to go bleach my eyes and call my therapist.

_quinnhughes: also y/hughes i will call mom.

—y/nhughes: mom follows both of us she's already seen it. ur threat = empty

——_quinnhughes: i hate you.

edwards.73: my final straw. incriminating evidence being posted in 5 minutes.

load more comments...

edwards.73 just posted!

liked by dylanduke25 and 346,879 others

edwards.73: here's an explanation for each photo:

pic 1: y/nhughes and markestapa fucked up by not giving me photo creds

pic 2: video footage from the ring doorbell after their first date(luke learn to check the cameras) y/n actually ended up kicking mark in the face on accident. mark told the team he got jumped.

pic 3: y/n stole these from lhughes06 closet at the lake house and made us break into the park.

pic 4: me and y/nbff helping y/n break into marks room at the soph house. once again, luke learn how to check the cameras.

pic 5: y/n asked mark if she could do his make up. he happily obliged and got mad when i didn't say he was pretty.

pic 6: y/n and mark plotting how mark is going to get out of the lake house before me and luke got back because he wasn't supposed to be there for another day. luke i swear to god look at your surroundings.

pic 7: this one i'll probs get in trouble for, but, this how i found out about y/n and mark. he came back from their "tutoring session" like this. y/n girl, cut your nails.

pic 8: peace out bitches. give me photo creds next time there's more where this came from.

load comments...

y/nhughes: what the actual fuck

—y/nhughes: markestapa i think we have a stalker

——markestapa: jesus christ ethan

y/nhughes: also no i will not cut my nails mark likes them

lhughes06: this is MY last straw. how long have they been together for fucks sake.

dylanduke25: holy shit he actually did it

rutgermcgroarty: ethan i think you have a problem

load more comments...

masterlist

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#346

“Hey boy get out here.  This is my bud Scott.  He and I go way back to my hauling days well before I married your momma and took the both of you in.  Do you recognize him?  No?  Well he recognizes you.  He said you sucked his dick down at the docks, and that he was one of many men who used you.  That shocked panic look on your face tells me everything….

“Jesus fuck!  Right before your momma passed away, she got me to promise her that I would take care of you.  We knew you were queer.  Hell, I’ve been fine with that.  You know that.  I’ve taken you to some parades.  I went to your fundraisers.  I supported you as if you were my own son.  Your mom would have been proud.

“Now I hear that you are a faggot.  And if you were servicing men at the docks, you were probably whored out by Big Dale.  Am I right?  You meet up with Big Dale and he brings the men to use your holes?...  Answer me!...  For fuck’s sake.

“I can’t believe it!  I have a faggot whore under my roof in my home.  How long have you been a faggot?...  Don’t give me this ‘all my life’ shit.  How long…  Wait a minute.  Do you know the difference between a queer and a faggot?...  You don’t.  A gay boy or a queer boy is what I thought you were, someone who goes to parades and shit like that.  I thought you were going to find another gay boy to date or something.  A faggot on the other hand is a whore to men.  A faggot needs to serve men.  No matter how the man wants to use or abuse a fag, the faggot complies.  A faggot will get smacked around, pissed on, spit roasted, just to get the cum loads.  Cum is the faggot’s motivation.  Degradation, humiliation, and debasement is how it gets it.  So again, are you a faggot?

“Aw, that nod was barely noticeable.  You can do better than that.  Just say it.  We all know it’s true.  Big Dale wouldn’t have taken you in if you weren’t ready to be used.

“About time you admit it.  Jesus fuck.  How long?  How long have you been a faggot?...  Four years?  Fucking hell.  I had a faggot living in my house for four years?  I don’t fucking believe this….

“Why the fuck are you crying?...  Oh for fuck’s sake.  I ain’t going to kick you out.  I didn’t when I knew you were gay, I’m not now.  No, I would have treated you the way that you need to be treated.  I would have been training you…

“Wait a minute!  Wait a minute.  You’re nineteen.  And you have been a fag for four years.  Since you were fifteen?  Jesus Christ!  Maybe it was for the better that I didn’t know.  Don’t need nor want any of that underage bullshit.  Oh my, all those men at the docks and wherever else you went to spread your legs were fucking you underage….  Shit.  I’m not going think about that.

“Well starting today, you are my faggot.  You are no longer my stepson Brett.  You are Faggot or Cunt or whatever I feel like calling you.  I’m going to be a controlling asshole to you going forward. 

“Get the fuck naked.  You will wear what I tell you, and that is nothing.  You will do your chores, cook, yardwork, and so on naked. 

“No hair?...  Did Big Earl do that?  Figured he would.  You are to keep that up.  Bow your head.  You should limit your glances at your superiors. 

“Your pecker is rock hard.  Faggot you really are a faggot.  OK.  Here we go.  I want you to bend over and grab your ankles.  Show us your cunt….  Holy hell.  That is one used cunt.  You still have the cum stew in there from last night, or did you clean out when you got home last night?

“Scott, it’s going to be a mess.  I can break out the hose to clean it out….  Thought so.  Have at it. 

“Faggot, Scott and I go way back, back to my truck driving days.  We used to ride together and tag team faggots across the country.  He knows how to handle a true faggot.  You are going to with him for a four-day run.  You will follow his orders.  He will keep me informed of how you adapt to life as a faggot on a 24 hour a day.  I need to make some adjustments to the house now that I have me a faggot.  You’ll be moving down to the basement for starters.  Got to get a rimseat.  Shit like that.  When you get in, I will break you in properly.

“Damn boy, you are really handling Scott’s beer can dick.  If you think his is fat, just wait, mine is just as fat and two inches longer.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

6/9 We Appreciate Power

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

If one thing was sure with Simon, it was that he was never quite what he seemed.

It turned out that he was in a relationship for the first time since his twenties. He had a whole bunch of protocols, one of them being that he didn't date, didn't do relationships, didn't get attached. He said it was the usual approach in his line of work, but she didn't quite buy it. Other personnel and some of his teammates had partners, even children. She dared to believe that Simon was breaking his rules for her.

Simon was far more invested in people's lives than he would ever have cared to admit. But even if he appeared to harbor a tendency to protect those who could not do it for themselves, he didn't treat her like she was a helpless damsel. She was sure he would, after The Incident and especially after The Revelation, aka trauma dump. But it only felt like he had gotten more evidence of her toughness, her survival skills.

The more she learned about his past, the more she began to realize that he had a soft spot for the weak and suffering. He made no big deal out of it, but in her eyes, he was a hero for having saved his brother from drug addiction and beating his father close to death for everything he had done. Even the Puranic stories knew that demons needed to be punished, not forgiven; it was their only chance for redemption. To her, Simon was Krishna wrestling down Asuras who tormented innocents. He used his father's curse of anger for good.

And he didn't make her decisions for her. She wondered if things with her were much like with Soap: Simon let them both fuck around while he did the backup from a distance.

And another thing was that you never had a dull moment with Simon. Because one lazy Saturday morning, a week before Christmas, a ghost appeared in her hallway.

"Jesus Christ…!"

She had just brushed her teeth, but when she opened the bathroom door she was met with a huge masked man standing only a few feet away, just in front of her front door.

All the remnants of sleep vanished instantly. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, then slammed against her ribs as she saw the faded skull print on the black balaclava.

"Fuck." Her hand had shot to her chest, and she was sure every hair in her body was standing on end. But of course Simon only found the whole situation entertaining.

"Haven't heard that in a while."

He was dressed differently this time, introducing her to the professional soldier who was, even without the load of war gear, intimidating. She knew that he was a tall man, tall and broad, but now he seemed to shrink the entire hallway. The black cargo pants, waterproof jacket, padded, fingerless gloves and military boots could only be described as tactical — he was drenched in black on black on black, but it didn't make him look any smaller, quite the contrary. The dark brown eyes stared at her from under the skull balaclava with brazen mischief. When she finally caught up with her breath, she began to wonder how on earth Simon had even got here.

"Someone might think you're breaking in."

"Technically, I am."

She peeked at the front door behind him and was ready to scold him for breaking the lock, but there was no sign of any vandalism on it whatsoever. How the hell did this man do all this shit?

"Did someone see you?"

He crossed his hands over his chest like he had just been insulted.

"What do you think."

In a normal situation – if there was a thing called normal with Simon – she would be dangling from his neck by now. But he looked so impressive, so imposing and foreign, that she was suddenly shy.

"Ugh… Why do you have to be so, so…"

His eyes narrowed into a smile as she tried to search for the words.

"So you."

"You wanted to learn how to shoot."

Well, the last time they had spoken on the phone, she had asked him to teach her, but he had refused, saying that she would have to go to a range and receive tuition there like the rest of the folk. But it appeared his ego had gotten the best of him.

Because why else would he appear here like this, looking like a kidnapper, burglar and a commando guy, if it weren't to show off and get another reaction out of her?

"Now? It's raining."

The weather outside wasn't exactly inhibiting. It was just another London day where you couldn't tell if it was misty or rainy. And as if he had heard her thoughts, Simon raised his eyebrow and gave her a look that said Are you fucking kidding me?

"You got two minutes to get changed."

It was a command, and her eyes widened from him just ordering her around. Then she got back to her senses and simply obeyed. While combing through her bedroom closets, she figured Simon was being generous for her sake. Two whole minutes…

December this year was far from a winter wonderland: the weeks had been warm, rainy, and grey. But it was still wintertime, the kind of cold and wet that pushed through layers of clothing. She picked the most durable outdoor clothing she owned, paired it with her only merino base layer, then decided to change her underwear too. Into something more lush, something she had bought just for his sake. Just in case things got heated on the way back home or before they went to have a shower together...

As soon as she rushed back and had gotten her shoes on, he picked her up in a fireman's carry and headed to the door.

"Someone might get the wrong idea," she laughed at the pure audacity of this man as she watched his feet swallow the tiled path that led to the street.

"I can live with that."

"Simon, seriously. Someone might call the police."

"That would certainly be interesting."

She was hauled to a colossal car with darkened windows and tires the size of a mini horse — some kind of a preposterous off-road land cruiser she could never in her life afford. If this was his own car or if it was leased through work, she couldn't tell, but it was precisely like Simon: dark, robust and fierce.

He drove safely enough though; calm and collected, like he was driving a family car to a shopping mall. It was such a delightful little detail that she briefly thought that Simon would make a good father.

After about a 40-minute drive off the city, they reached some abandoned gravel pit in the middle of nowhere. The weather had stayed much the same, but the cold she felt came from finding herself in a completely unfamiliar setting.

She waited demurely as he opened the trunk, unloaded a few gun cases, and then picked up a black tactical vest with pouches filled with ammo. She watched with her mouth dry as he swung it on, adjusted the straps, and looked even more massive with that thing. She was given a set of eye and hearing protection, and then the first case was clicked open. It held some sort of rifle.

"I thought we would use a handgun?"

"Not before you've practiced with long barrels."

Practiced…? Just how hard could pistol shooting be?

He gave the gun to her and told her to get used to its weight. She didn't know whether the safety was on or off or if the gun was even loaded, but she pointed it to the ground as Simon went to set up targets a rather long distance away. She ended up strolling around with her shoulders tense, holding the gun like it was an explosive that could go off any minute.

This was just fucking crazy and she felt like a fool… and Simon was marching back, looking like a whole goddamn war movie.

He took the gun from her, adjusted the sight, and showed her how the bolt action worked. She only now saw that the chamber was empty – of course he wouldn't leave her unattended with a loaded firearm – then watched how he grabbed a magazine that looked like a little box and pushed it in the stock with seasoned motions.

"This is a Browning X-Bolt rifle. Good for hunting both deer and people."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at such hillbilly talk. Simon put the hearing protection on, which was a sign for her to cover her ears as well. He fired only one round to see if everything worked correctly, then gave the gun back to her.

"Remember to squeeze the trigger. Don't yank or pull it."

He then adjusted her stance, which she had briefly tried to imitate from him. He came behind her, and the gun was raised and tucked against her shoulder like she was a child who had to be shown everything by hand. And she guessed she could be compared to an infant when it came to these things.

It was a whole other ordeal to try and memorize everything he said when the hard ridges of his gear pressed against her as he showed her how to hold the rifle. And it certainly wasn't an accident for him to pack his crotch against her too. They hadn't even kissed yet, let alone reveled in the usual, steamy sex that occurred the moment they met after weeks of pining on the phone. He was like the devil himself, pouring that dark, raspy velvet in her ear and knowing perfectly well that he left her aching after every single call. Long distance relationship was a sweet, sweet hell.

"Is that a knife in your pocket?"

She could barely detect the slight tensing of his core as she said it. The shoulders caved in just a little, the hand that was snaked over hers tightened its grip only marginally… So she raised the stakes.

"Or another long barrel?"

"Concentrate."

"It's pretty hard to concentrate with a barrel up my arse."

There was a short silence, and she bit her lip — Simon never let her have the last word, not to talk of teasing him like this without being punished. The hearing protection was lifted just enough for her to catch what he whispered in her ear.

"Should've fucked you before we came 'ere."

Her pussy clenched at that, quite involuntarily, but the dark honey combined with that gruff purr while he was pressed against her was simply too much.

"You would've been all nice 'n' quiet."

Well, it was now obvious that further punishment would ensue after the shooting lesson. Her nipples grew taut, and not from the cold. He gently put the hearing protection back on before taking a few steps back, his warmth leaving her like a cloak she had been deprived of.

She took a deep breath to level her head, then slid her finger on the trigger and braced herself for the kick. It was enough to mess up her aim, but the second time was easier now that she knew what was coming. After the third round, Simon came to show her how to change the empty mag.

"That's it. Good girl."

"For God's sake, Simon, you're not helping."

The third magazine she changed herself, with shaky hands, because shooting had turned out to be both thrilling and nerveracking.

Next up was a submachine gun, during which point she was literally sweating. Everything looked nasty and technical, and she felt like she didn't know shit about anything.

"Ok, now this one you gotta keep steady, or else you'll find yourself shooting at the sky."

He adjusted the grip of her left hand so that instead of cradling the gun in her palm, she bore her thumb over the rail for better control.

"How do I keep it steady?"

"With muscles. I know you got some."

The first few spurts were full of shy stress, but she got used to the feel of it after a while. The first magazine was empty just when she started to have fun. He came to change it, and she did another round, during which Simon gave her curt advice — "don't let the gun control you," "lean into it a bit," "elbows in line," and so on. It was absolutely ridiculous how the clink of bullets on the ground could make her feel like she was Rambo or something. After the third mag, Simon deemed it done, and she almost felt sad to be departed from the gun.

"That went well."

"Yeah. I like this one," she agreed while looking at the black steel like she had just made a new friend.

"You little maniac," he said while giving her an approving once-over. The sexual tension was electrifying, the smell of acrid gunsmoke made her feel exceptionally wild, and she started to understand why people were attracted to these things. She had thought that anyone could fire a gun, but she was wrong. It required practice like any other activity, it demanded both patience and strength.

Some of the expended cartridges had melted the polyester of her jacket in a few spots, one had even burned a tiny hole in the fabric. Simon noticed her surprise as he took the gun to return it to the car.

"Yeah… Burns real nice when they catch some skin. We call them brass kisses."

After the SMG was back in the case, Simon lit a cigarette, and she felt even more timid. Seeing him in this kind of setting, hauling guns around, lifting that mask to have a smoke, dressed like he was going to some special operation, suddenly reversed months of acquaintance. She was out of her element while he was 100 % in it, and the aspects that had made her fall for him were turned up not by a notch but by a stretch.

"Now we get to the pistol. And this ain't no toy. You really gotta pay attention to your form." The cigarette hung from his lips while he emptied the gun, then took a drag like it was just his second nature to fire some shots while having a smoke. The magazine was changed by the same hand that held the empty one like he had done this a thousand times before. Probably because he had.

She would never have thought that this was what she was really into. She had spent years searching for a soulmate in future professors or decent guys who were safe and dull. All of that evaporated into thin air like the smoke from his tobacco.

It felt almost shameful that she found such a stereotypically masculine man not only intriguing but so attractive that she felt weak in the knees. To gawk at the display of muscle and war and dirt and get wet from the smell of gunpowder and his sweat as he came close to show her how the guns worked… It felt like a betrayal. She had always looked down on these people because she had simply thought that wars were stupid and anyone who wanted to be part of such violence was stupid.

But Simon wasn't stupid or simple; he wasn't a jackass with distorted views of honor and ethics. In fact, he was one of the most intelligent, morally sound people she had met. Perhaps a little gloomy and with a twisted sense of humour, but those things only added to his depth. Simon wasn't cannon fodder, nor was he a gun-crazy, trigger-happy recruit who had made reality of most boys' fantasy life. He was a relic of something essentially, fiercely masculine, a man in a world full of boys.

He came to give her another crash course on how to line the sights, take off the slack from the trigger before firing, how to square her stance toward the target. It also seemed that she was gripping every weapon wrong. Whether it was a limp wrist or the wrong spot for grip, he saw it and corrected her on it.

And after firing a few rounds, she understood why they had started with rifles. The pistol shooting was an absolute shitshow. Aiming that small but feisty piece required an extremely delicate yet stern hand.

"See what I mean?" Simon changed another mag for her, and she tried to hide her sulking.

"Yeah. Why would anyone want to use these things?"

"Easier to carry and disguise."

After the second mag was empty, he told her he had been mean and that beginners usually started pistol shooting from 7 yards away. The target she had hit only a handful of times was more than 20 yards away.

"Got one more beauty," he said, went to the car, and came back with a monster. It looked heavy, even in his hands, and for a moment she thought they were about to shoot with a machine gun in the middle of serene countryside.

"What the hell is that…"

"I saved the best for last."

It turned out to be a large caliber rifle with a scope, typically used by snipers — only, this one was larger and more powerful from the usual military use. The silencer at the end of the barrel only increased the outrageous appearance of the weapon.

"Don't look so glum. This should be easy."

She got a nice little setup that included a poly tarp and a tripod for the gun. Shooting prone with a mounted gun gave her the much-needed support, and the scope made her feel that even a person with a Bachelor's degree could do this shit. The recoil didn't scare her this time; she even liked the feel of it when it got absorbed into her body.

"Lookin' good."

And the commentary from the back made her realize that the absorbing thing no doubt meant that more than just her accuracy was on point.

"I'm sure it does," she said mainly to herself while silently happy about Simon unmistakably checking her ass out. The sniper setup was so much fun overall that she asked for extra mags. He only had two, and the session was soon over, and her cheeks were red from both joy and the brisk morning air.

Simon came to crouch beside her, and she turned on the tarpaulin to give him a smile that must've told him just how happy she was. He smiled back with his eyes, which now held a hungry glimmer in them. Yup, he had definitely checked that ass out.

"That's it," he said while removing the protective gear for her.

"Can I join your team now?"

"Sure. You'll make a great mascot."

She fake punched him for that, and he caught her wrist while laughing at her sad tries to pose a threat to someone like him while lying on her back. The next punch was not that playful, even if she was laughing too. It soon turned into a whole wrestling contest until he finally climbed to mount her.

She figured he had bested her and relaxed under the straddle of his thighs, but the greedy look in his eyes only increased.

"C'mon. Fight back a little."

She guessed this was just another need to show off, but she felt reckless enough to indulge him. She caught him slightly off guard by diving an arm around his neck while doing a hip bridge that almost bucked him off to the side, but he quickly drove his other foot to the ground to prevent himself from being toppled.

"You've done Jiu Jitsu?"

"Beginners course, 5 years ago," she answered to the mild surprise in his voice, then tried to push herself out from under him with an escape from the mount that usually worked… at least in a training situation with other beginners. But Simon countered it easily, and she soon found herself being seized in a chokehold from behind while trying to break.

He took her back down with him, even wrapped his legs around hers, performing a perfect rear naked choke on her. She should've known that Simon was adept in martial arts as well.

She was staring at the sky while clutching the steel muscle that forced her to lay her head beside his. It was a pure instinct to reach for his forearm to pull it off, even if he was holding her in place rather than doing an actual choke.

"You're always far more fun than you let on," he whispered in her ear, so close that the fabric pressed on her skin and sent tingles down her spine.

"Glad to be of entertainment even here," she said while trying to maneuver herself out of the choke, to no avail. That bastard even let go with his other hand, quite capable of holding her in place with just one arm while the other began to travel down.

She froze from the heady realization that Simon hadn't spread the tarp just for shooting purposes. It had been laid there for some other action entirely.

The hand forced its way under the waistband of her pants and swept over her underwear, cupped her with no fanfare, just to inspect the state she was in.

"Of course you're wet." The voice was dark, amused, and slightly out of breath as his legs forced her thighs further apart still.

"Of course you're a cock," she said while trying to suppress a moan. Her muscles were already sore, but she didn't want to go back to a warm house, a hot shower, and a soft bed afterward. She wanted him to continue whatever this… exploration was developing into.

He stroked her through the thin fabric she had deliberately chosen to wear today under the all but erotic outdoor apparel, and knew he could feel just how wet she was. All the fight left her, her legs relaxed into the spread they were forced into, and her hips ground against that hand, utterly wanton and shameless. She assumed it was her way of tapping out.

"Fuck…" she cussed the second time today as her head laid back to rest on his shoulder.

"Just say the words and I will."

"I already did."

"Nah… you gotta say it." The grip on her throat tightened a little while he swept a thumb right over the spot that was crying for attention, and her eyes squeezed shut just from the sheer frustration this man aroused in her.

"Please. Just..."

"Yes luv?"

God, he was annoying...

"Fuck me," she submitted like she always did.

"With pleasure." He rolled them both to the side, and she was quite literally manhandled to lie down on her back. She dutifully helped him remove her pants and noticed she wasn't the only one having trouble with restraint. She had never seen a man so enthusiastic about getting her clothes off.

But when he was met with the high-waisted lingerie composed of strings and sheer black lace instead of the plain black knickers she usually wore, there was a pause.

"Fuckin' hell…"

And she could understand the allure of it now: there was something enticing, dizzying, about pale skin covered in nothing but a few thin threads and see-through mesh. Especially when contrasted with a giant male encumbered with magazines of cold metal and dressed in black, rough ripstop. She knew he carried not one, but two knives this time: one on the back of his vest and another strapped to his thigh.

"Don't destroy them, ok?"

He was still looking at the dainty little thing like it was the most fascinating sight he had ever seen. And to think that she had almost left them at the store because it felt foolish and corny to wear something like this just for him to take off.

"Simon? Please."

The dark stare flew briefly to her eyes before darting back to the ridiculous thing that, in her opinion, didn't deserve to be called clothing.

"Since you asked so nicely."

The lace looked even more pitiful in contrast to those reinforced half finger shooting gloves as he reached to take the garment off. The whole scene must've looked like a threatening situation rather than the passionate encounter of two lovers: a giant soldier opening his pants to get his cock out and adjust himself between the legs of a half-naked woman. If anyone from school saw what she was up to this weekend, they would've probably fainted.

And how on earth could it only feel better every single time he slid in?

He did it sluggishly — it was his bravura: to torture her and watch how she gasped and tightened around him. He turned the most basic things into a fantasy, made a simple missionary feel like a holy event.

"Now that's a hungry cunt," he commented with a barely restrained groan. She nearly told him to just shut up for once…but didn't because as always, that talk only made her clamp around him more fiercely.

"Try concentrating on missions with this tight lil' fit on your mind…"

At that, she was speechless, but her fingers curled around the shoulder straps of that stupid tactical vest he wore, the contents of it pressing against her uncomfortably as he slowly filled her. He so rarely rushed, even when the air was filled with so much intensity that there could've been sparks flying from their contact. It was aggravating how patiently he could slide in and out while they were both trembling, while whole worlds were shattering from the insane passion at work here.

Her thighs were already quivering from the stretch and mutual tension and the knowledge that they were doing this in broad daylight under a dull, gray sky, on a tarp that smelled of storage room, gasoline, and lifeless plastic. But even that was nothing compared to the masked man above her. She couldn't feel skin except for the part inside her and the pelvis that brushed her as she so willingly opened up for him after they had fired guns like they were some bloodthirsty, lunatic couple.

And Simon was breaking records every time they met. She felt cold, alive, and so happy that those three words were so close to slipping out this time that it brought her to tears. And he just kept making love to her in this disturbed setting where the sniper rifle was still lying beside them with the safety off, wearing that unbelievable skull print mask that made her want to scream because it was so cringey and hot at the same time.

"Simon," she started, not knowing what she wanted when she already had everything she could ever wish for.

"What can I get ya?" He murmured to her neck, the warm breath hitting her skin through the mask and providing some alleviation to the December cold. The plastic sheet made scrunchy sounds beneath them as he continued to shag her while she was having another breakdown from the love she felt for this man.

"I- Just… a little faster," her whisper rose as a mist in the air as she tried to come up with something other than I love you. He chuffed against her neck in amusement but granted her request, and a few tears escaped.

She was crying while everything was already soaked. The foggy morning and her pussy were equally as wet for Simon to have a nice, refreshing Saturday filled with all the things he enjoyed the most. Her whole body ached, both from the cold and the love.

She nuzzled her way under that mask and finally met precious skin, salty and heavy with the scent she now associated with all things Simon and safety. She kissed his neck like an idol at first, then with more passion, like she was starving for the whole essence of him. He messed up the rhythm of his thrusts for a brief moment, just from that subtle touch of hot breath and wet tongue. And then there came a swallow and a pained sound — almost like a hushed, uneasy sob.

He was suddenly speechless too, there were no commentaries on how good she felt or how well she took him or even that good girl talk. Simon was fucking her on mute for the first time ever, only sighing and grunting as he went. He wouldn't even look at her. But it felt even more sensual, their most sensual fuck yet – that everything just trembled and shuddered and shifted like continental plates.

The build-up was far from hasty and desperate. It grew inside her, layer upon layer of swelling heat and devotion until her whole body went tense. The shaking stopped — but he wouldn't; he completed the job the same way he did everything in life. Confident, meticulous, unwavering.

When she came, he still wouldn't say anything, only hummed against her with a satisfied rumble. It was stupid, how she felt more like a goddess on that tarp than on the bed they usually did this. It felt idiotic how she felt like a goddess at all... But there was no other word really, to describe the sensation of total elevation and surrender that followed from being filled with a man like him. He was supposed to be a simple grunt and turned out to be everything but. He was full of magic, an embodiment of otherworldly power. It made her cry and left her legs shaking.

He allowed himself some mercy only after she had had her pleasure, and the sex became feverish. She dared to roll the mask up just enough to find his lips, and he allowed it, answering her kiss almost violently.

"Fuck I've missed you," he panted in her mouth like it was a confession torn from him by torture, and before she could say anything, he crammed his mouth on hers again. He never showed affection straightforward, and the sudden frankness pierced her heart like a javelin, far heavier than his actual mass bearing down on her.

The love fluttered inside her chest like a painful secret as he prevented her from returning the closeness that bordered on unbearable. He eventually came with a few hearty thrusts and broke the kiss, and the liquified stare behind those half-lidded eyes was a whole nebula of sore adoration. If this was anyone else, she would've deemed that look vulnerable.

He was perfect, and this day was perfect, and she felt a sinking, sweet fear in her stomach from getting everything she wanted and then some more – because it could never, ever last, not in her world of experience. This was simply too good to be true.

His head hung heavy beside hers, then came to rest on the crook between her shoulder and neck like he was in need of a short, cuddly moment. While valiantly supporting himself on his elbows even after the climax, his weight still managed to steal most of the air from her lungs. The magazines, albeit softened by the pouches of that vest, dug into her skin even more painfully. But she didn't care — she even wrapped her legs around him, as far as they would go, to prevent him from ever leaving her. And he didn't withdraw for a good long while. Lately, he wanted to stay inside her for as long as possible, and it was another thing that sent her to the brink of tears.

"That was…" she broke the mist of silence with words and felt him sigh.

"Yeah."

Her hand was halfway under that mask, and she could feel his hot sweat under her palm, the cold British fog licking her fingers. If she would ever catch Alzheimer's when she grew old, this was the memory she would fear losing the most.

"You're one hell of a man, Simon."

"I like you too, Sarah," he chuckled, but she could hear it… The word 'like' had started out as something else, and he corrected it just before it curved to love. The heavy accent made it roll off his tongue like it was just his usual manner of speaking, but it was there.

And if that wasn't evidence enough, he was abruptly tense, having realized he had almost made a mistake. And why would it be a mistake? Because it would've been mortifying to be the first to say it?

She looked at the heavy sky above them and smiled. Insufferable man… he was bold and fearless and hardy but turned into a stubbornly proud man with these kinds of things.

She opened her mouth to be the one with more balls, but he got off her, and the moment was lost somewhere in the folds of that tarp. Her cowboy looked at her with warm, sleepy eyes.

"You look like shit."

In his language, and said with such overly puffed up affection, it meant gorgeous, or magnificent, or beautiful. She could hear in his voice that he was inwardly beaming — like he was looking at a mess he was proud to have wrecked.

"Gotta clean you up when we get back," he chimed, no doubt eager about getting to run his hands all over her slick soapy body after first making a dirty mess of her.

"Enjoying this a little too much, don't you think?"

"Not nearly enough. Put some clothes on before I attack you again."

He was gentleman enough to help her back into her clothed and shoes, laughing when dressing her turned into yet another contest and they nearly stumbled on the tarp all over again. The elegant material of her freshly bought underwear didn't stand a chance against the cum that seeped out of her in a sudden rush. She was definitely in need of a shower.

The trip back was mostly filled with a satisfied silence as a few rays of sun broke from the clouds to shine through the windscreen. It was still early, the day had just begun. They would probably spend the rest of it, hopefully, the whole weekend, at her place — doing good food and sharing silly stories from work and school, sleeping late and misbehaving like two hormone driven teenagers.

"I got you something," Simon spoke when they were nearing the city, offering some sort of a short bladed knife. It had a t-shaped handle, and she intuitively wrapped her fingers around it so that the blade was protruding from between her knuckles as she drew it from the hard nylon fiber sheath.

"Looks… vile," she said while apparently holding it right since Simon didn't correct her on it.

"Push dagger. Very handy in close combat. Would ease my nerves to know you have it when you're, ah…"

"At work?"

"Especially there."

She felt like a psycho when a smile crept up her face from handling such a cruel-looking knife supposedly meant for punching people in the gut or neck.

"Is this legal?"

"Not in the UK."

"Right." Her nerves would not be eased by the knowledge that she was carrying an illegal weapon with her. But she already knew there was no two ways about it. How many times had she walked home from the club in an anxious sweat? And when did all that dread become normal? His gift was actually delightful.

"I can leave you that Glock too. Just keep it somewhere out of sight until we get you a license. It's for emergencies."

She thought about commenting on using it accidentally on a certain guy who had broken into her house this very morning, but then again, she knew she couldn't kill a man like Simon in a million years.

"Sure. Thanks."

Other guys had bought her books and manicures as a gift, taken her to the movies. Someone had even bought her a large TV as a birthday present. Mainly to watch football from it himself.

But Simon… Simon gave her a vicious looking knife and a pistol to protect herself with and fucked her under the sky after teaching her how to shoot with different firearms.

"Look at you all smiles," he observed her with remnants of sultry smoke still coating his voice. She realized she was watching the road with a silly grin on her face.

"You had fun today?"

He tried to appear distant and thick-skinned, but ended up taking care of her safety, went to great lengths to find out what she liked, and always made sure she was pleased. If she had known who she was dealing with from the start, she would've been more polite. But then again, it appeared her nerve was what had caught his interest in the first place.

"Yeah. And I got a lot of presents... Guess I have been a good girl after all."

"Hm. That you have."

The sun shone so brightly that she had to squint her eyes. It was the perfect moment for giving him a gift as well.

"I got something for you too." She reached for the gift that wasn't even wrapped, because she hadn't planned it to go this way, but it was of no importance right now.

Simon remained as solid as always, but the pale eyelashes fluttered in the bright morning light when he saw that she was holding the key to her apartment between them.

"So you don't have to break in."

It wasn't much, it wasn't a massage or a gift card or anything like that. He didn't exactly need it. But it was symbolic, and he accepted it with a solemn, courteous nod that meant more to her than any appreciative words or overly expressed gratitude. He was speechless for the second time today, meaning that his feelings had gotten the best of him.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Panty Dropper

@callm3senpaii was so kind tagging me in this and I know I should have been asleep but I couldn't stop thinking about stuff to write. Will I be tired today? I probably already am. Will it be worth dragging my ass around? Most definitely.

Things they do that have me throwing my panties on the floor and my ankles in the air:

TOJI :

~ The bulge in his pants and the scar on his lips.

~ When he stands, sits, when he's hard. Especially if he wants to hug me or pull me down onto his lap. And if he looks at me and licks the scar, I'm immediately flooding my pants. I don't know what it is about scars, whether they're on chests, arms, faces, backs (omfg backssss). They're just so fucking sexy to me. I want to lick them all.

~ He'll press that mass right into me. Knowing damn well what he's doing. Same with the scar, he knows wtf is up. If he wants my attention but doesn't want to have to say that he wants it, he'll just stare at me and lick the corner of his mouth until I'm dropping down on his face.

~ It gets worse the longer we're out of the house. Having to show self-restraint and not drop to my knees and rip his low-hanging pants from his godlike hips is not #1 on my to-do list.

~ HE IS, though.

REINER :

~ Jesus Christ. The way he would hold me all the time. How he can flip-flop between being gentle one minute to shoving my back up against any hard surface that was easily accessible, rolling and grinding his hips into me.

~ How needy he can be sometimes is so hot. Like, he can't fucking live another second without burying his face in my cunt or stuffing me full of his cock. Or tongue. Let's be real, the man loves to eat.

~ He's also emotional AND emotionally stupid. He tries to express himself and sometimes he just gets so pissed off that he doesn't have the words that he'll shut down. And I wouldn't be able to sit by and watch him beat himself up about some shit that happened 10 years ago. I'd have to climb up on his lap and start rubbing my ass all over him to get his focus to shift.

~ Watching him hold a baby would make every single good egg I had left drop down, ready to create life with him. He's so fucking big and seeing him hold something so small and fragile would make me insane with lust. (As if I'm not always DTF this guy). I'd whisper in his ear to give the baby back to her (yes, it would be a baby girl, all pinked out) parents because I need him upstairs shooting his hot load into me and telling me how much he wants to fuck a baby into me and watch my body change while nurturing life (WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM. LITERALLY WHAT. TF.)

~ His sweet gestures would kill me so softly. He would bring me a wild flower that he saw somewhere while he was out. Or he'd bring me a little succulent clipping that he snagged while he was at Home Depot getting stuff to make the rack to hold our sex swing that was going to be delivered in 2 days. 1 if the mail runs a little faster than anticipated.

~ I don't know how else to articulate this other than to tell you that we'd dance like they do in Dirty Dancing (the OG movie. Not the remake shit). You know how Baby and Johnny danced with each other when they'd basically straddle each others thighs and just grind while his hands were on her ass and she was clinging to him to keep herself from falling over backwards, even though there was no way in hell that he'd ever let go of her. And how he'd turn me around and have my back to his chest while we're just like, making our hips go in circles while we're in the living room listening to songs like "Cry To Me." Fucking shoot me now, please. I can't stand another minute without this guy.

Sanemi :

~ This motherfucker. His lack of personal space with me would be irritating at first. Like, he would always come to bed with me at the same time. Sleep smooshed up next to me, even during summer months when it's too hot to lay like that unless you have 3 box fans pointing at you (and I DO) just to take the edge off of the humidity swarming around you. But eventually, when he'd stay up to do something, video games or working out, whatever, and I go to bed alone, I definitely would just lay there and miss him. So I'd call for him and he'd come peek his head in the room and ask me what I need.

~ I'd admit that I need him because I'm so goddamn used to feeling his body next to me that I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not all tangled up in him. I just toss and turn not feeling grounded in my own bed.

~ So he'll turn off all the lights because he's a responsible electricity user and do his bedtime routine then finally come in and lay with me.

~ But he's not really tired. And he will turn over to face me and starts rubbing my thigh with his left hand, sloooowwwlllyy going higher until he's got his fingers dancing over the waistband of my --- wait, I won't be wearing panties. Scratch that. He'd play with the hem of my t-shirt and inch his way between my thighs until my knees are opening up for him.

~ "You still not tired?" is all he'd have to say to me in his deep, husky nighttime voice and I'd pull him over on top of me because I can't resist his voice, even in the daytime. But there's just something about his voice at night that does me in. It's heavy with the days weight and he wants to let go of everything. And I would help him with all that shiz.

LEVI

~ There are several things that he would do that'd lead to my clothes spontaneously disappearing.

~ If I walked in on him cleaning ANYTHING my pants would combust on the spot. There is something about a man who takes tidiness seriously. And no one takes it more seriously that Levi.

~I would try to get him to wear nothing but an apron to clean stuff up in, but he'd just call me a dumbass and continue his dusting.

~ When he is getting annoyed with me and his voice gets all disciplinary and starts yelling at me a little bit to "Knock my shit off", it's only going to egg me on more.

~ I would love to push his buttons until he was beating my ass over the kitchen table, counter, dishwasher, shower, closet, cat food dish. Idfc.

~ Also when he would drive us somewhere, he'd have his hand on my thigh and subconsciously rub and squeeze it whenever he'd get pissed off at the other idiots on the road.

~ It would be the way that he'd kiss me goodbye in the morning and then he would pull away only to lean in for a deeper kiss as his hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him.

~ The way the heat from his cock would warm me wherever it pressed into me as he was trying to leave for work that day. "I'm working from home today, yes. Yes, thank you. I'll be in tomorrow," he looks at me, "Possibly."

[triplexdoublex]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Chase(Huddy) x Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut, almost getting caught by a family member, use of a vibrator, outta pocket grandma

A/N: 100% based on a dream I had, so some details may differ from real life.

It’s been six long months without Chase while he was gone on tour, but finally you’re about to see him again. You see him as you pull up at arrivals; a smile already on his face when he recognizes your car. The second the car is in park, you jump out and throw your arms around him, pulling him in for a big kiss, and then help him load his luggage into the trunk.

“God, I missed you so much, you have no idea,”he kisses you again as he settles into the passenger seat.

“I missed you so much too, babe. I’m glad to have you back,” you smile at him before pulling away from the airport and starting the journey back to the house you share with Chase.

You’re almost back home when Chase starts getting handsy. He runs a hand up your inner thigh and under your skirt. “Can’t believe it's been six months since I’ve touched you, six months since my cocks been in this sweet pussy,” he begins rubbing you through your panties while you drive. First order of business when we get in the house is burying this dick so deep inside you” He grasps his hardening length through his pants with his free hand while the other tries to slip into your panties.

“Yeah about that…” you push his hand away.

“Baby, I don’t even care if you're on your period! I need you!” he pleads.

“What? No, that was like two weeks ago, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it, baby? C’mon you know you can tell me anything,” Chase questions concerned.

“You’ll see.”

Not even two minutes later you pull up to the house: balloons, tents with food, a welcome home sign and every relative of his imaginable.

“Oh. My. God. What the hell?” Chase says in shock.

“I’m sorry, babe. Your family insisted on throwing you a Welcome Home party and I tried to get them to at least change it to tomorrow so we could have some time to ourselves and you could rest, but they weren’t having it, and I didn’t want any drama with them.”

“Oh, fuck me!” He whins in annoyance. I mean, they’re my family, of course I wanna see them but not right now, ugh. Right now, I only want you— I’m still fucking hard.”

You get out of the car, retrieve Chase’s luggage from the trunk , and hand it to him as he steps out of the car. “Here, cover yourself with this.”

“Heyyy,” he awkwardly greets various family members, giving them a one armed hug while still clutching his luggage close to his body. More family start to approach, but Chase can’t take it anymore,his craving for you is absolutely carnal and his family is going to have to wait. “Hey everyone,let me take a shower real quick to wash off all the tour bus and travel off of me, then I’ll get back to seeing everyone. Promise I'll be quick.” And he knows he will be, you’ll be lucky if he lasts five minutes after having been away so long.

The second you enter the house — which is thankfully empty— your ravenous mouths are on each other, and you’re shedding your outerwear; your cardigan and his leather jacket. With your mouths fused together in passion, and your hands tangled in each other's hair, you clumsily shuffle towards the bedroom, banging into things, and knocking stuff over in the kitchen along your way. You only make it as far as the connected living room before you fall back onto the sofa, pulling Chase down on top of you. He instantly grinds himself against you and you lift your hips returning the sensation—your longing bodies visceral reaction to touching after being apart so long.

With your fingers on his zipper and his tongue in your mouth you pause, hearing the outside door open into the kitchen.

“Oh my, I told myself that you were still young and you weren’t having sex yet, I guess I know the truth now.” Chase’s grandmother criticizes.

“Jesus Christ, Grandma I’m twenty one, really?” Chase replies holding himself up off your body. “And we were just kissing. What are you doing in the house anyways, the party is outside?”

“But I know what that kind of kissing leads to,” his grandmother informs.” I kissed your grandad like that when he came home from the war, and nine months later your mother was born,” she embarrasses Chase. “I just wanted to see my grandson, is that okay?” She guilt trips him in a way only a grandparent can.

“Thanks for the visual, Grandma,” he facepalms. “Yes, but I told everyone I would be right back after a shower, sooo let me go take a shower and I’ll be right out.” He tries his best to hide his annoyance with her but fails miserably.

“Ohh fine,” his grandmother sulks, walking towards the door.

“Yup, there you go, okay bye bye, see you later.” Chase rushes her out, locking the door behind her.

“Now where were we?” Chase smirks, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for a hungry kiss.

Again you begin the clumsy journey to the bedroom, undressing each other as you go — Chase pulling your shirt up and over your head and your fingers skillfully working down the placket of his white button up.

Before you even get the chance to remove it fully he’s shoving you against the wall. Your skin is set ablaze as his nimble fingers begin to travel up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“Missed me, huh?” He teases with a smirk feeling how soaked you are through your panties.

“Mhmmmm, Fuck— you have no idea,” you moan grasping him through his pants.

He pushes your hand away in exchange for unzipping his pants, and pulls himself free. Then hurriedly, he hikes your left leg up around his waist, and pushes your wet panties to the side. You can’t help but let out a loud moan at the feeling of his sizable cock nudging your slick walls open to accommodate him.

“Fuck, I missed this.” His warm breath cascades over your flesh as he pivots his hips and mouths your neck, thumbing your bra strap out of the way to then kiss along your clavicle.

“Ohhh- fuck, Chase!” You cry out in pleasure, grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. “Uhhhhmm, yeah —fuck right there!”

“Mmhhmmm, oh god yes, say my fucking name like that again baby! He grits through his teeth hungrily as fucks into you.

“Chase— Fuck , you feel so good inside me, want you to fill me,” you plead. Suddenly you swear you hear someone opening the front door. “Shit, Chase, I think someone’s —-“

“Shut up!” He covers your mouth with his hand “I’m not finished with you”

You’ve never seen or heard Chase like this before — the demeaning tone, his desire so primative. You can feel yourself getting wetter by second and you know he can feel it too—each thrust slicker than his last. It’s only a few more until you can feel the pulsating warmth of him cumming inside you.

“Chase?” You both hear a voice coming from the kitchen.

“Shit, it’s my sister!” Chase snatches up your other leg, and quickly wraps it around his waist with the other one, and carries you into your shared bedroom. He plops you down on the bed and then discreetly closes and locks the bedroom door.

“Chase, you say in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“You didn’t cum yet and we don’t have much times,” he whispers back while opening the nightstand drawer.

You know exactly what he’s getting, he’s not one to shy away from toys in the bedroom, and he knows how quick you always cum whenever he uses the hitachi wand on you.

He switches it on and the humming buzz alone already has your lower abdomen clenching in anticipation. He presses the vibrating bulbous head of the wand firmly against your clit and in mere seconds you’re cumming hard. Quickly, before your open mouth can release a sound, his hand once again covers it.

“Chase?” There’s a knock on the bedroom door.

“Just a second,” Chase responds, letting your body ride out your orgasm before switching off the hitachi and hiding it under the covers for now.

You sprint to the attached master bathroom to clean yourself up, while Chase zips up and starts re-buttoning his shirt before opening the bedroom door.

“Sorry I just got out of the shower and was finishing up getting dressed” Chase says as he fastens the last button.

“Isn’t that the same outfit you just had on before you took a shower?” His sister asks with a quirked eyebrow and accusing tone.

“No, just similar,” he lies.

“Okay then, why is your hair still dry?”

“Uhh, I blow dried it.”

“Sure, ya did lil bro” she smacks him in the back of the head. “You know Y/N’s shirt is in the middle of the living room floor right?”

“Uh…Um” A rosy hue blooms on Chase’s cheeks. He’s fresh out of excuses.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell any of our guests you abandoned them for a quickie ….grandma already took care of that.”

[patchworkgargoyle]

🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 4

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection Rating: E || Words: ~3.5k || CW: graphic depictions of violence, blood drinking || Full tag list on ao3! || Posting: weekly Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio

It had taken two hours–two whole, entire hours, from 12:30am to nearly 3am–for Munson to get enough things together for him to feel ready to leave for Steve’s house. He’d kept getting distracted, rifling through his room like he’d forgotten almost everything he owned and each uncovered trinket was a noteworthy discovery. And Steve was annoyed.

Dustin and Chrissy managed to keep Eddie on track, somehow, and Steve knew if they hadn’t they’d never have left before the sun came up. All he’d done was sit in the doorway to Eddie’s room and complain that they were wasting time. How many damn band tees did a guy need, anyway?

When he saw Eddie try to put his infamous lunchbox into his patched up duffel bag, Steve put his foot down. “No, you’re not bringing that into my house.”

“I’m an entrepreneur, Harrington, don’t tell me I can’t keep up my business. One that you’ve personally partaken in, in fact, so you being stuck up about it isn’t gonna fly.” he replied with a tight smirk.

“Business?” Dustin asked, but went ignored by every teen.

“If you’re still out making–” Steve glanced at Dustin. “Making money, running around town, that messes up the plan. And you can’t have them come to my house either.”

Eddie grit his teeth, clearly trying to bite back a sneer, then tossed the lunchbox onto his bed a little rougher than Steve thought was necessary, narrowly missing Chrissy who was unfazed. Steve just rolled his eyes.

There was an awkward moment of silence, then Dustin spoke again. Bluntly. “Eddie, are you a prostitute?”

Eddie burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained. Chrissy choked out a giggle, hand over her face. Eddie doubled over with his arms wrapped around his waist and Steve’s eyes were drawn to the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, dark lashes fanned over his cheeks while tears started to clump them together. Swallowing, Steve looked away and ignored how his face heated at Dustin’s question.

“Jesus H. Christ, kid, that’s a new one,” Eddie said around his poorly contained cackling, wiping at his eyes. “I’m a creature of the night, not a man of the night. There’s a difference.”

Of course, Dustin wasn’t deterred. “What’s in the lunchbox then?”

It was then that Eddie scooped up the joint he’d rolled for Steve off the floor, like he’d just remembered it was there, and shoved it into his pocket. “Something I’ll tell you about when you’re older.”

“No, you will not,” Steve said firmly, glaring at Eddie who held his hands up in surrender in a way that was distinctly sarcastic, a glint in his eye like he knew he was pushing Steve’s buttons. It set his teeth on edge. The dimple that appeared when Eddie smirked and winked at Dustin made it worse.

But, eventually, they were on their way. Chrissy drove off after promising to stop by Steve’s in a day or two, and also after extracting from Steve a promise to keep Eddie safe. She and Eddie had hugged for a long time while Steve loaded Dustin’s bike into his trunk, which did nothing to convince Steve there wasn’t something going on between them, but at this point it wasn’t really his business.

On the way to drop Dustin off, the kid asked Eddie an endless stream of questions which Eddie could only answer half of. Was he able to go out in sunlight? No. What happens? His skin starts to boil and blister. Did he have a healing factor? Yes. Could he turn into a bat or a wolf? He fuckin’ wished.

When Steve parked in Dustin’s driveway, Dustin was in the midst of asking, “So who turned you?”

“Uh, wasn’t a ‘who’ as much as it was a ‘what.’” Eddie leaned into the space between the front seats, tilting his chin up and pulling down the collar of his shirt. There was no missing the scarring on Eddie’s jaw, but it was shocking to see how far it went down, and how ragged the scarring really was.

“Did you get used like a chew toy?” Steve asked, which got a snort out of Eddie.

“Bet you’d know all about that, huh?” he teased. Steve’s lips pursed and he hoped it was dark enough they couldn’t see the flush in his cheeks. He shouldn’t have said anything.

Before Eddie could start explaining, the front door swung open, spilling light onto the driveway and Claudia stepped out, hair in curlers, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, and wearing a deeply worried frown. Dustin cursed under his breath and scrambled out of the car with a hasty goodbye.

“You’re welcome!” Steve said, but Dustin slammed the door shut before he finished, trapping the following sigh within the leather upholstered interior.

He only half-listened to the muffled conversation between the Hendersons, having heard the worried questioning brushed off too many times to count, now, and returned the smile and wave Claudia sent his way before they went inside.

“Kid’s really got an ego,” Eddie said with a nervy laugh, and Steve snorted.

“You could say that again,” he replied.

The drive home was, well, probably the most awkward one Steve had ever experienced. For all of Eddie’s bluster in the trailer he fell unnervingly silent. His leg, though, kept bouncing rapidly, and he picked at his cuticles while he kept his gaze fixed out the windshield. Even his slow heart picked up to something a little closer to a normal, human pace.

“You okay, man?” Steve eventually asked once the bouncing started to drive him a little insane.

The laugh that escaped Eddie sounded manic. “Sure, dude, just waiting for the point at which you pull over and take me out like some supernatural hitman.”

“Wait, what? I’m not gonna t-take you out!”

“You mean you weren’t waiting to get me alone just to assassinate me?” 

Steve shook his head, baffled. “No! I’m literally just taking you to my place. That was the plan, not whatever… insane thing you’re thinking of.” Sparing Eddie a glance, he caught him staring back with wide, tense eyes, his irises black in the darkness of the car. “I promise, Munson. No funny business.”

He let out a long exhale, but finally Eddie slumped heavily into the seat. “Thank fuck. I don’t particularly want to die, especially not at the hands of a monster-hunter-turned-werewolf.”

“If it helps, I’d make it quick and painless,” Steve said, smirking. He hoped the joke would land and not make Eddie either more worried or, worse, piss him off. He didn’t want an angry vampire loose in his car.

Thankfully, after a pause, Eddie barked out a laugh, head thumping against the headrest. “Good to know I’m in the hands of an ethical killer, then.”

Steve chuckled along, but it faded quickly as the words soured something in his gut. He had to set that straight, right now. “I don’t, uh, kill. If I can help it.” Catching Eddie’s interested look, he continued. “It kinda goes on my record as a hunter, and not as a good thing, but I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s some stuff that’s really just an animal, and if they go feral then I have no choice, but that’s, like, the very last option. Most creatures are pretty sentient, so…”

“So killing them feels wrong?” Eddie supplied where Steve trailed off, and Steve nodded, finally pulling into his own darkened driveway.

“Yeah. They can be reasoned with, somehow, or led away to a safer place, y’know?”

“Huh.”

With the Bimmer in park, Steve turned to Eddie. He had his head tilted to the side, curls draped across his unscarred cheek as his eyes darted all over Steve’s face. A tiny line formed between his eyebrows. Steve felt examined, like Eddie was assessing him, and wanted to look away, get out of the car and walk off the buzz the intensity left under his skin. Maybe it was just a vampire thing.

A slow smile stretched Eddie’s full lips, one that felt much more genuine than any others Steve had seen that night. “So you’re just a glorified wildlife rescuer?” he said, amused. Steve just shrugged.

“I guess so. Supernatural wildlife.”

“Now that makes me feel a lot better. Bleeding Heart Harrington, who knew?”

“Shut up, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he joked. Shoving Eddie’s shoulder, he said, “C’mon, let’s get you settled in Munson.”

—

Having someone in his house 24/7 was an experience Steve hadn’t had since he was a kid. Once he hit his mid-teens, his parents started going on consultation trips and left Steve in as the resident Harrington Hunter in Hawkins, only backed up by the (usually ineffective) police, and the Carvers. He did well enough for himself, and he took a little bit of pride in being independent, told himself he liked the quiet. Filling the house with parties, before everything went to shit, was just expected of him. Having Robin and the kids around a few times a week was just for hunter business (and to hang out with his best friend).

This, though? Having a bored, listless, undead roommate messing with his things, moving them out of place, leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor even though the basket was right there, closing all the blinds and curtains instead of staying in the guest room to sleep during the day, like a normal person would? It was the most annoying experience of his life.

Each morning he’d join Steve in the kitchen before work, his eyes boring longingly into Steve’s mug of coffee. The first morning he offered to brew more, yet Eddie shook his head and said, “Wish I could, buddy, but I don’t think either of us wants to clean up that mess,” and cackled at Steve’s disgusted grimace. But it turned into a routine from there, with Eddie poking fun at his mom’s dull decor choices and Steve’s hair care habits while Steve struggled to bring his brain up to speed with Eddie’s seemingly endless energy. He did notice the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes growing a little more intense each day, but if Eddie didn’t seem bothered by anything, Steve wouldn’t mention it.

Steve would come home to find his parents’ records strewn all across the off-white carpet, Eddie lying amongst the pile listening to whatever he’d claimed to be “barely tolerable” at a truly ridiculous volume. He couldn’t get too mad, because when he’d ask Eddie to turn the volume down he’d give a genuine apology and scramble up to reach the volume knob, but still. Annoying.

Add to it the rest of the Party, who demanded to invade his house as soon as Dustin told them all the news, and Steve was ready to pop a blood vessel.

He wasn’t supposed to have to babysit a group of middle schoolers and a fully-grown adult nerd, and yet. Here he was. At least the others would be arriving soon for a meeting.

They were so loud, too. Dustin, Mike, and Eddie sounded like they were arguing but from the sounds of it they were just excited. Will, Lucas, and Max sat in their own little bubble, talking just as loud if only to hear themselves over the obnoxious yelling. Steve had to close himself in his kitchen and breathe for a few minutes before he could face the noise, and how Max managed to handle it he had no idea.

“Alright, hey!” he shouted over the mass of nerds huddled in his living room. They didn’t stop. He clapped his hands, loudly. “Hey!”

Finally all their heads turned to him. Will and Lucas at least had the manners to look apologetic. The rest of them were unimpressed–though Max was exempt, Steve couldn’t change that if he tried.

“Keep it down, you’re gonna make me burst an eardrum.”

“Whatever, old man,” Max snarked with a little smirk. Lucas laughed, making Steve roll his eyes with a fondness he’d deny.

“Sorry, Steve,” Will said.

He sighed. “It’s fine. Don’t know what you’re all screaming about anyway.”

“Eddie was telling us about his D&D campaign,” Dustin said.

“Of course. That definitely means you have to shout at the top of your lungs.”

Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all gave him a glare that screamed, “Duh.” Brats. But then Steve saw the thoughtful look on Eddie’s face. One that spelled bad news.

“Y’know, I couldn’t run a campaign for you tiny tots through Hellfire because of the–” he waved a lazy hand at the curtains shutting out the weak autumn light from the backyard, “but maybe I can now.” He grinned when the boys all started shouting again and Steve let out a groan.

“Maybe if you all shut the hell up,” Steve said, surly and rubbing at his temples. That was when the doorbell started to ring, repeatedly and insistently, and Steve stormed off to go answer the door.

Robin opened it with her key just before he’d gotten there, grinning. “Hey, dingus!” Nancy and Jonathan stood behind, the former glaring at Robin and the latter wearing a sheepish smile. Before he could even invite them in, Robin pushed past with an affectionate shoulder bump.

“I’m sorry, I think she heard that racket and–”

Steve finished Nancy’s sentence while pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Decided to be an ass? Yeah. That happens. I’ll get her back by stealing her food at work.”

“I heard that!” she shouted from the kitchen needlessly.

“Good!”

Jonathan chuckled at the exchange and gave an awkward nod when he followed Nancy inside. All they were waiting on now was Hopper and Eleven’s arrival. The teens gathered on the fringes of the kids’ loose huddle around Eddie, catching up on their day-to-day, which mostly meant commiserating about school and work, until the last knock on the door came and Steve let Hopper and El inside.

El gave Steve a bright, wide smile and raced off to the kids, leaving Hopper shaking his head fondly at her.

“How’s it going, kid?” he asked, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

“It’s fine. Looking forward to getting this solved though.”

Hopper hummed in agreement, making his way to the group.

“Oh, fuck.” Eddie’s eyes went wide when he saw Hopper, quickly looking at Steve. “Why’s he here!?”

“Good to see you too, Munson,” Hopper droned, “but for once it’s not because of your shitty life choices.”

Eddie snorted. “Says the guy who buys–”

“Shut it.”

Steve watched the two, biting back a smile when Eddie zipped his lips and gave a mocking salute, Hopper’s eyes narrowing at the gesture. Catching his eye, Eddie smirked at Steve, the corner of his mouth pulling down in amusement. He couldn’t help it, a smile cracked through Steve’s resolve and he dipped his head to hide it.

Sighing, Hopper began again. “So, I assume at this point everyone’s been caught up on the situation?” A round of nods and he grumbled, “There’s no secrets in this damn group. Fine, makes this easier then.” He jerked his chin at the kids. “You lot, you’re to stay out of anything that isn’t research. You’ve seen enough already.”

Where Will and Lucas looked a little queasy at the memory of the werewolf, Dustin, Mike, and Max started protesting. El merely glanced between them all curiously, but when Mike started to make his defence, she began to nod.

“We were the ones to find it, we know what to look for!”

“You know a dead werewolf body when you see it, great job,” Hopper snarked. “That’s more than you should’ve ever seen, so you’re benched, got it?”

They groaned.

“If anyone calls the paper about some weird sightings, I’ll follow up on it and let everyone know. And maybe Jonathan and I can check the archives, on the off-chance that there’s something there?” Nancy said, earning a nod from Hopper.

“Steve?” He looked up when his name was called. Hopper seemed almost apologetic about what he was going to say next. “Your best move is to do nothing. We can’t have you drawing attention to your squatter.”

“Hey, I was invited, thank you very much,” Eddie said.

Steve sighed, frowning. He knew it was right, but he hated being put on the sidelines. It also meant he couldn’t be out there, helping. “So no patrols?”

“Nope. Sorry, kid.”

He folded his arms and leaned further against the corner he’d claimed. “What if something else happens? Other hunter stuff?”

“Leave it to me, alright? Me and the guys can handle it for a while. Hell, maybe we’ll even make the Carvers pull their weight for once.” Steve and Hopper both shared a scoff at the idea, though Steve still wasn’t confident that those in the know at Hawkins PD could handle much at all.

“I guess that leaves me on Dingus Distraction Duty.” Robin sidled up beside Steve, offering him an open bag of chips pilfered from his own kitchen.

“I think now you’ve got two dinguses to distract, if you’re hanging out here,” he said. She and Eddie locked eyes expressionlessly for a moment, then pointed finger-guns at each other, giggling. Why did this suddenly seem like a very bad idea?

“If anything comes up, like if you find another corpse, you’ll call me, right?” Steve asked, a little worried about his fate if Robin and Eddie got along as well as he dreaded they would, and Hop nodded.

“You’ll be the first person I call.”

“Wow, Harrington, you’d rather hang out with a dead guy than an undead guy? That hurts.” Eddie put his hands over his heart. “That hurts right here.”

“That feels discriminatory,” Robin said. Eddie nodded excitedly.

Steve just hung his head with a sigh.

The meeting wrapped up not long after, with rides arranged and meet-ups for later organised. Robin left with Nancy, Mike, Jonathan, and Will after threatening Steve into hanging out after their shift tomorrow (not that he really needed to be threatened), the other kids getting ferried home by Hopper.

Steve waved them all off and closed the front doors with a relieved sigh. Finally the house was quiet. Steve walked back to the living room, expecting Eddie to have started ransacking his movie collection only to find him still in his spot on the couch, looking paler than usual. His hand was clamped tightly over his mouth, eyes screwed shut and chest rising and falling in very slow, measured breaths. Something about it had the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck standing on end.

“Whoa, dude, you okay?” he asked, stepping closer. Eddie flinched hard.

“Just gimmie a sec.” Eddie’s words, muffled by his palm, were flat and forced.

Steve froze. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

Afraid to move, Steve stayed in that spot halfway to Eddie between the couch and the coffee table. Neither of them spoke. All Steve could hear was Eddie’s harsh breathing. After a few minutes his shoulders eased away from his ears, but he still hadn’t opened his eyes, or removed his hand.

“Can you, like, open the windows or something? Let some fresh air in?” His throat bobbed.

“Yeah.” Steve backed away, then opened the windows, doing his best to keep the blinds and curtains closed against the sun. Without moving closer, he asked, “Uh, that better?”

Eddie kept breathing slowly, but the tension around his eyes started to dissipate. He nodded.

“Thank–” Eddie cleared his throat. “Thanks, man.”

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” 

It might’ve sounded a little accusatory, though Steve tried to rein that back. But some little animal instinct in him was still waving a whole field of red flags. Eddie looked like he’d been in pain, broken bone kinds of pain, and now that he wasn’t so wound up Steve could see that he was shaking.

“Been a while since I’ve been around so many people. And, uh, also been a while since I’ve had a drink.”

Steve was about to ask what he meant before it clicked. A drink, of blood. Oh shit.

“When was the last time you… did that?”

“Last week. It’s been too long. The night you showed up, Chrissy was coming by so we could, y’know.”

“Shit.”

Eddie chuckled hollowly. “Yeah, shit.”

“You can call her, it’s fine if she comes over.” He started to walk to the phone but Eddie shook his head, hand falling away from his mouth. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“She’s got cheer practice. And if she’s seen here? In broad daylight? And before you suggest animals, they can only keep me going for a few hours. I’ve tried it.”

Staring at Eddie, hunched on the couch and looking like a man on death’s door, Steve weighed their options. Well, the only one he could even consider at the moment. It didn’t take him long to do, and he pushed aside all the weird thoughts, surprises, and worries and buried it all under his desire to help and professional curiosity.

“Bite me.”

Eddie’s head snapped up. Finally, Steve noted with relief, his eyes were open.

Read chapter 5 now on ao3!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Returns and Reruns ||

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Tags/warnings: sort of hookup, ongoing whatever this is, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex. E.

A/n: Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt... For @bernthirst-events Filthy Friday, could be filthier I guess :p

It had been a while, but Matt would recognise that scent anywhere. Subtle woody aftershave mixed with a hint of gun oil, pizza from a couple of hours ago from the place down the block, the single malt whiskey on his lips. Sure enough when he turned around he could sense Frank leaning at the bar looking his way.

"It's been a while, Castle. How've you been?"

Frank made room for him at the bar, giving a slight smile as Matt waved to Josie for two more measures.

"Been quiet, you didn't notice?" He replies.

Matt scoffs. "Trying to be a good boy?"

Frank tilts his head and shakes it, chuckling slightly. "When am I ever? Nah, I'm sure somethin'll come along, someone will step outta line. They always do."

He takes a sip of his drink looking over to the pool table where Foggy is undoubtedly getting his ass kicked at pool by Karen. She still looks beautiful.

"You uh, with Karen now? She know about…" he gestures between them with a slight nervousness.

"No, no we're just really good friends. And no, she doesn't."

Matt wasn't trying to hide whatever it is he has with Frank, it just never came up.

"And Nelson?"

Matt takes a hefty swig of the whisky, swirling it around his mouth for a moment. He can feel Frank's eyes on him watching his throat work as he swallows. "Hell no. The thought of trying to explain… not sure I'm ready for that yet."

Frank hums as he drains his glass.

"You out later, doin' your thing?" He asks. Matt knows it's a loaded question.

"Not exclusively…"

.

"Fuck…"

Matt's arms span across the back of the couch, fingers gripping around it almost white knuckled, his head thrown back panting curses up to the ceiling. Clothes are strewn over various surfaces of his apartment wherever they were torn off, a couple of things knocked over on the way up to this point. He's naked, his legs spread wide, and Frank's between them, his hot, wet, dirty mouth wrapped around Matt's cock. He tries not to move his hips, as much as he wants to, but it's as if Frank's encouraging him to fuck his face, grasping underneath his buttocks and pulling him up towards him but Matt resists.

He moans and pulls off him for a moment, a slick string of spit connecting them for a few seconds until it breaks.

"You gonna let me take care of you?" Frank rasps.

Matt's chest heaves as he tries to catch a breath. "...yeah I just– aw jesus christ!" He's cut off as Frank starts sucking one of his balls into his mouth as he strokes him with his hand.

"Frank, fuck! Please…"

Frank grins releasing him from his mouth before licking his way right up the underside of his shaft to the tip, tasting the leaking precum there as it spreads over his tongue.

"C'mon Red, tell me what you want, it's been a long time… I forget."

Matt's eyes screw shut. "Just, fuck me."

Frank raises an eyebrow with a grin. "Yeah? Gotta get you ready f'me first baby, ain't just gonna fuck you right off."

He straddles Matt's lap, taking his hand in his and curling it around his thick cock. "Gotta open you up so you can take it, huh? You forget how big it was?"

Matt whines as he pumps him slowly, desperate to feel him inside. "Lube's in the bedroom." He murmurs as Frank's mouth works under his jaw to his mouth, kissing him hotly and making him melt.

"C'mon then lil devil." He says, getting up and offering his hand to pull Matt up and follow him.

When Matt's settled on his bed Frank wastes no time finding the lube and loosening him up. He missed hearing those sweet little grunts and moans of need as he worked his fingers inside him, teasing him with a little brush over the spot that he'll be pounding hard against in a short while.

"Fuckin' missed you, y'know that?" Frank admits as he kisses over Matt's neck and collarbones, skirting over the twin scars and down to graze his teeth over and suck at his nipple. "Missed this." His voice lowers as he scissors his thick digits making the other man's back arch gorgeously.

"Frank please, I'm ready, I'm ready."

Frank smirks. He loves how he begs for him, how open and honest he is with his needs now. No longer unsure, no longer ashamed.

He squirts more lube on his hand smearing it all over his cock, pressing his large hands on the underside of Matt's thighs, pushing them back and apart. When he lines up Matt's already trying to push back on to him.

"Woah, easy…" Frank shushes him as he slowly and carefully presses deeper, the fat flared head of his cock disappearing inside as they both groan with pleasure.

It still burns for Matt but he wants that bit of delicious pain, it seals the memory of Frank into him like a brand for when he eventually leaves. His hands wrap around the back of his thick neck, pulling Frank over him and down so he can taste him again as keeps on sliding inch by inch inside him.

He's such a big man, he surrounds him and it feels good to give in to it and submit. This isn't so different from when they used to fight, used to beat seven shades of shit out of each other on the streets. It was still a dance then and they got to know each other's steps and moves. He much prefers this dance though, slow and easy. All he has to do is not think, just feel, and those feelings and sensations are like nothing else.

Frank's watching him closely, can see him slipping into that subspace already. It always takes a bit of to and fro before he just lets Frank in, lets him take care of things for him. He thrusts in slow and deep, he feels so damn tight and looks like one of those fuckin' religious statues with the way that pained pleasure is painted on his face. It's not just the sex but when he's back with Matt in Hell's Kitchen he feels home. It's not love but it's damn close to it.

He can't keep his lips off him, kissing and nipping wherever he can reach, wherever makes him whimper and tilt his head back and Frank can see that glazed look in his hazel eyes as they open again.

"I-I'm close, Frank…"

Frank hears that desperate confession and snaps out of his reverie, fucking his devil the way he's waited to for so long, hitting that sweet spot that makes him howl and cry and stripe his release between their writhing bodies as he follows him, cumming deep inside and holding him so damn tightly as he gasps out his name.

Not Red, not D, not Altar Boy.

"Matt…"

Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @briefcasejuice

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @munsonownsmyass

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst

Chapter Two: Recap

Jason lay in bed until the late afternoon. He worried about how Bruce would react to the end of their conversation. He tidied up his apartment and allowed his phone to ring in the background until he could no longer tolerate the noise. "What?" Jason snapped as he answered his phone.

"Jason, you have no idea how worried everyone's been!" Dick yelled at him.

"How is it that I have to answer every single time one of you calls? I just want some time to myself—."

"Then say that, Jason! Jesus Christ! None of us know where you live, where you work, nothing! So, of course, we're all gonna panic when you hang up like that!" Dick chastised him.

"I get that, I do, but has it occurred to any of you that calling me four times a day every day to make sure I'm alive isn't helping me at all?" Jason asked. He heard Dick sigh on the other line.

"Why can't you just tell him this yourself? Why's it so hard for you to talk to him?" Dick asked.

"Because it's not his fault. It's nobody's fault but mine," Jason replied, "I just need a break. I'm tired."

"What are you tired of?" Dick asked the emotion rose in his voice.

Jason sat back on his bed and took a deep breath.

"I just want everyone to take a break from worrying about me all the time. I need a break from it... Aren't you tired, Dick?" Jason asked.

"Of course, I'm not. That's what families do. We worry about each other, which is the only way we can show that we love each other in this family," Dick whispered, "But if you need some time to breathe, I'll tell him that. We can give you that." Jason relaxed, and his shoulders dropped.

"Thanks," Jason whispered.

"But tell me one thing before I hang up... How was it hanging out with Laney after all these years?" Dick asked.

"It was fun... Like nothing changed," Jason replied. He caught himself smiling.

"Nothing?" Dick asked. Jason furrowed his brows.

"What?" Jason asked.

"Nevermind," Dick replied before hanging up. Jason went about the rest of his day, cleaning up and getting ready to go to the laundry room. Still, he wondered about all the cryptic messages Dick and Laney conveyed to him.

Jason decided to call Laney back on his way down to the laundry room, but he didn't exactly know what to say to him. "Ooh, he misses me," Laney teased.

"What did you mean last night?" Jason asked.

"I don't remember anything about last night," Laney answered without hesitation.

"Liar," Jason replied as he loaded the washing machine and put his quarters in. "Laney, when we were kids and got in trouble for sneaking into that movie, our dads told us we couldn't hang out anymore."

"It doesn't matter why anymore, Jason. We can hang out now," Laney answered sweetly, "That's all that matters, isn't it?"

"I'm starting to think that our parents told us two very different stories... Laney, please," Jason pleaded.

"I didn't know what I was talking about last night. I was just being my usual troublemaking self... I wasn't gonna tell you this, but I only got drunk because I didn't know what to say to you," Laney confessed, "I wasn't even sure if you would be anything like what I remember."

"Was I?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, I forgot how fun it was pissing you off. Except you're taller than me now, so instead of crying about it, you could just knock my head off," Laney laughed. Jason snickered.

Jason sat down on a bench while his clothes were in the wash. "Still an asshole," Jason laughed.

"Remember the day we met, and I made you cry?" Laney laughed.

"Yeah, you told me that veal was human meat," Jason replied. Laney hollered on the other line, still laughing at Jason. "I vividly remember throwing up immediately after you told me that."

"I'm sorry. That was terrible, but why did you believe me? Why would a restaurant serve human meat?" Laney took a deep breath.

Jason chuckled. "Okay, you have a point. Remember when I invited you to stay the night after that just so I could give you a wet willy while you were sleeping?" Jason laughed. "Isn't that how we ended up being friends?" Laney asked.

"No, we became friends after Christmas when—. No, it was New Year's," Jason messed with his hair.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was Christmas because you asked me why I was so mean to you all the time," Laney's voice softened, "You remember, don't you?" Jason didn't answer. Laney laughed uncomfortably. "I think your dad thought we were gonna end up killing each other before we made it to high school."

"I used to think about it before we were friends," Jason replied.

"Think about what?" Laney asked.

"Killing you," Jason answered casually. He got up and checked on his clothes during the awkward silence. Jason broke the silence with a laugh. "Lane?" Jason asked seriously.

"What?" Laney asked.

Jason kicked at nothing. "I haven't had fun in a really long time, but I had a lot of fun last night. Thanks for that," Jason mumbled, "And sorry for kicking you out earlier. It wasn't you—."

"Don't finish that sentence. Otherwise, I'm gonna think you're breaking up with me," Laney joked. He paused before changing his tone, "I know you, Jay. I knew you weren't okay when my dad gave me your number. I know you probably don't want me to come back today, but whenever you need somebody to just listen, I'm here."

Jason allowed the silence to flood in for a little while, and he found himself thinking about Laney's full weight on him as they held each other on the dancefloor that night. "Still there?" Laney asked.

"Mhm... Laney, you should come back later on today," Jason whispered. Laney made an affirmative noise.

"Ooh, should I wear my negligee this time?" Laney teased.

"Fuck off," Jason laughed, "What if I had terrible news?"

"Well, I bet you feel less terrible now. Do you think your dad will let us stay up past nine this time?"

"Bye, Lane," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Bye, Jay," Laney replied and hung up. Jason moved his laundry from the washer to a dryer, and he sat back down on the bench. A woman that lived on his floor came in and put her clothes in the washer.

"Having a yucky day again, sweetie?" she asked. Jason shook his head.

"I was, but I think I'll be okay now," Jason smiled.

The woman smiled and pulled two magazines out of her bag and handed one of them to Jason. She opened her magazine and held it up by Jason's face. "Have you ever thought about adding olive green to your wardrobe?" she asked. Jason chuckled.

"Are you telling me that I'm an autumn?" Jason asked. She nodded and looked back at the color scheme.

"I don't know about this orange on you, though... Or yellow..." She looked back and forth at him and the magazine.

"I hate to be weird, but how do you open up to an old friend when you haven't seen them for a long time?" Jason asked.

"That's a silly question. I have a better question for you. What is the risk of opening up to your friend?" she asked.

"I just don't want him to worry about me. I don't wanna feel weird about talking to him..." Jason trailed off.

"I think things might already be weird between the both of you. You seem like you're out of sorts today. I think if this person is really your friend, things won't be weird at all," she replied, "Do you still journal as we talked about?"

"I try to, but writing it down freaks me out. I just feel like I'm saying something dumb," Jason replied. They talked for a while until Jason's clothes finished drying, and he stayed to fold. After he finished folding, he said his goodbyes and made his way back to his apartment to make himself something to eat.

He felt a little sick to his stomach, being that he hadn't eaten all day. He made himself a sandwich and a cup of tea. He turned the tv on and allowed his mind to drift back to the day Jason and Laney got in trouble. He could only remember sneaking into the movie theater. Jason couldn't remember how they got caught or anything else from that day. That day seemed so important to him, and yet, he couldn't remember anything about it.

Jason got up, made himself some dinner, and soaked in the bath for a while. He closed his eyes and sank under the water, holding his breath and counting backward from one-hundred. By the time Jason got to zero, his head was clear. He pulled the plug and stood up slowly, grabbing his towel and drying his face.

Laney knocked on his door, and he wrapped the towel around his waist before going to answer. "You're early," Jason stated as he opened the door. Lane cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"What will the neighbors think?" Laney joked as he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. Jason made his way back to his room to get dressed. "You went from being like four-foot-six to like six-foot-four. You gotta let me in on how you did that," Laney noted.

"Laboratory explosion!" Jason answered sarcastically from the other room. Laney put his bag on the floor and got comfortable on the couch.

"Some guys just have all the luck," Laney joked, "Listen, Jay... I'm gonna be straight with you. You know how our little brothers are friends?"

"Yeah..." Jason came out of his room in his pajamas and a t-shirt.

"The clumsy one... Uh, Tim, he told Conner that you haven't been home in months. He didn't say why, but he did say that everyone misses you," Laney admitted.

"Oh, well... I'm gonna tell you about that," Jason mumbled as he went straight to the kitchen. Laney kicked his shoes off and lay on the couch.

"If it makes it less awkward, I can tell you about something that I did that made my parents freak out," Laney replied.

"What did you do?" Jason asked. He smiled and turned around to look at Laney.

"That's just what my mom said," Laney laughed, "I got a tattoo. It says 'mom' in a heart on my back."

"No, you don't," Jason laughed.

"You're right, I got a belly button piercing as a gag," Laney replied.

"Got any other lies?" Jason asked.

"Ooh, one more... I didn't run away and try to go to your house after our parents said we couldn't hang out anymore," Laney replied. Jason's smile faded, and he turned back around to the fridge. "So, do you wanna tell me why you won't go home?"

"What?" Jason asked.

"Our brothers are friends. They talk," Laney replied. Jason shrugged.

"I had a rough time with a class last semester... It brought up a lot of bad memories, memories of things I thought I buried. Instead of telling Bruce that I was struggling, I kept it to myself," Jason mumbled. Laney leaned forward and made a noise to indicate that he was listening. "I figured once the semester was over, I'd be fine... But it was worse. We were gonna go on a summer trip, and I just wanted to stay home and be by myself... Get some sleep."

"What happened, Jason?" Laney asked. His voice was nearly unrecognizable to Jason.

Jason swallowed hard. "I couldn't sleep the whole time they were gone, and everyone came home early, asking how I was and what I was planning to do during the summer... And I snapped. I don't remember what happened in between, but I know that Bruce and I got into this huge fight. I don't remember what I said or what I did, but he checked me into the hospital. The day I was discharged was the last time we saw each other in person," Jason's voice broke, and he held his breath.

"Jason... Is that why you don't wanna go home?" Laney asked.

"I want to go home," Jason whimpered as tears streamed down his cheeks, "I just feel like I'm gonna implode every time I talk to him. I don't know why..." Jason couldn't talk through his tears anymore, and he felt a pair of arms wrap around him.

"It doesn't sound like anyone is holding that against you, buddy," Laney whispered. Jason turned around and held onto Laney.

"I can't go home," Jason wept. Laney let go and backed away.

"I used to think you were just messing with me, but you really don't remember a lot of things... Do you?" Laney asked. Jason wiped his face.

"What?" Jason asked. "What does that have to do with—?"

"It doesn't mean anything. I was just thinking out loud," Laney replied, "Besides, from what my brothers say, it sounds like your family misses you."

"It doesn't change what I did... Don't you ever wish you could go back in time and stop yourself before you do something stupid?" Jason asked.

"All the fucking time... But the thing is, we can't. Jason, he's your dad. I really don't think he cares about what you did or why you did it. I think he just wants you to come home," Laney suggested. Jason shook his head.

"It's not that easy. Every day, Lane... Bruce calls me every single day, two times a day in the least. Ever since I left home, I feel like there's so much pressure to go back and pretend that things are normal—."

"Jason, of course, you can't pretend things are normal. No one is asking you to pretend things are okay. Maybe they want to work on things with you," Laney replied, "And I get how you're feeling. I really do. I had a hard time telling my parents about my feelings... But once I did, we really got closer, and it was worth it." Jason sat on the couch and hugged his knees. Laney sat next to him on the sofa and turned the tv on.

Laney's phone rang, and he looked at Jason. "Mind if I get this?" Laney asked. Jason shook his head. "Hey," Laney answered, "Oh no, I'm not home right now... I will when I get home... Uh-huh... I said I wouldn't, Mom... I love you too, bye." Laney hung up.

Jason opened his mouth to speak, and Laney turned to look at him. "Lane... How come nothing's changed?"

"What do you mean?" Laney asked as he changed the channel.

"How is it still easy to talk to you?" Jason asked as he let go of his knees and planted his feet on the floor.

"It's because I get you," Laney replied calmly. He stretched out on the couch, throwing his legs over Jason's lap. "Also, you're not that different from how I remember you." Jason pushed Laney's legs off his lap and went straight to the kitchen.

"I can order some pizza," Jason offered.

"I already did, right before I left. It should be here any minute now," Laney replied.

As soon as the pizza deliverywoman came, Jason paid her and sat on the couch. "What have you been up to, Lane?" Jason asked.

"In the past eight years or—."

"Yeah, sure, Laney," Jason interrupted. Laney took a bite of pizza.

"Well, as you know, I was already on pretty thin ice with my parents when we were fourteen... So, they sent me away to go to school because they thought it'd keep me out of trouble. Fast forward like two years, they let me go back to regular school, and I'm pretty sure I went to my prom at some point... Oh, and I dated a friend of the family, which was kind of nice for a while," Laney replied.

"Oh? For how long?" Jason asked.

"Three years. We broke up two and a half years ago," Laney answered, "And what have you been up to? I know it hasn't been all bad."

"It wasn't. I was in a few plays in high school. I start working on campus pretty soon, and last year I got a xylophone... I don't remember why—."

"Do you still have it?" Laney asked. Jason nodded, and Laney gestured for Jason to go get it. Jason finished his slice of pizza and went to wash his hands. He went to his room and came out with a dark wooden xylophone.

"You can have it if you want—."

"No fucking way. Hold on," Laney replied, wiping his hands on a napkin and grabbed the mallets. "I had this roommate a few years ago that got a xylophone as a present from his parents because he said he was bored, and he was gonna throw it out, and well..." Laney played a tune on the xylophone.

"You play the xylophone?" Jason asked as he went back to eating. Laney nodded, smiling a devilish half-smile. For a while, Jason almost forgot they'd ever been apart.

As the night went on, Jason and Laney talked to each other about just about everything. Around midnight, Jason got up to turn the lights down, stopping as soon as he heard Laney mumble something. "Say what, Lane?" Jason asked.

"I didn't have any real friends until I met you. I mean, I've got some really great friends now, but you and me, we were partners in crime," Laney whispered. Jason smiled and nodded. "Did you really used to think about killing me?" Laney asked.

Jason grabbed some blankets from his closet and gave them to Laney. "Oh yeah," Jason laughed, "Remember when you put that rubber spider in my bed? I thought about smothering you with a pillow, but I wasn't sure I'd get away with it. Why? You never thought about it?"

"I never really got mad at you... Except for when you gave me a wet willy, that was disgusting, and you didn't have to spit on me after," Laney laughed, "I've never seen anyone that angry in my whole life."

"Oh, Lane, the couch is a pullout," Jason pointed out. Laney got up and looked at the couch.

"Oh, it is," Laney replied as he moved Jason's coffee table and pulled the couch bed out. "Turning in?"

Jason nodded. "Goodnight, Laney."

"Night," Laney replied.

Laney lay awake for a little while after Jason went to bed before sending a text to someone. By the time Jason woke up, Laney was gone.

[arthotsglasses]

Olympia Soiree Office Room

So, yk that project I planned like a year ago about making otome environments in 3D and intractable?

After a year of my game dev college program and a load of extra knowledge from Youtube and Twitch, I made it happen. Here is my first room built out of sooo many more to go, but damn I'm finally good enough to start doing this!

Here is a video of me running around in play mode (using wasd and mouse) in Unreal Engine 5:

Comparison photo: original Olympia Soiree Switch screenshot (left), my Unreal screenshot (right)

Modelling process: Modelled and UV unwrapped in Blender, textures painted in Substance Painter:

Exported texture maps (in order of textures, normals, OcculsionRoughnessMetalic, and emissive):

TO WATCH ALL THIS HAPPEN, CHECK OUT MY TWITCH CHANNEL! THANK YOU

Now, rambles as usual:

Jesus Christ that took long and lot of work... even had to get a new pc cuz old one couldn't handle Unreal5 and Substance paint, had to upgrade...

Had to learn sooo many new things, before this I only knew how to model 3D objects. I had to learn how to UV unwrap, entire process of Substance Painter, and Unreal Engine 5.

In modelling, I had to learn the low to high poly workflow, and edge shading settings. That's the only new stuff I learned.

UV Unwrapping learning wasn't too difficult cuz the UVs didn't have to be perfect. Substance was gonna be good enough to handle them. Textile density and all that is still new and I'm still trash haha but it did the job for now.

Substance Paint tho.... had to learn all from importing low poly mesh, baking the high poly into texture maps, how to paint, masking, allllll of that, and finally export to get the 4 textures above.

Unreal 5 intro was a solid few days of pain. Starting from navigating the interface, dealing with importing meshes, textures and making them into materials, landscape & foliage generation (that I didn't use for this project yet), lighting settings, colliders, bit of blueprint.... yep but thank god I knew some Unity so it wasn't terrible.

SO... ik a lot of things still need work and missing. The books on the shelf are unfortunate cuz they weren't properly baked in Substance Painter. Some little props like books and stuff are not yet made either. There's a lot of weird edges and shading issues on the model. The lighting and stuff still needs a bit of work as well, it's not right on yet.

But,,, damn I'm soooo happy for what I was able to achieve, I didn't think I could do it this early! When I played it in the engine for the first time, it felt soooo real, I felt like I was in the game universe. I'm very excited to keep making more, and getting better with this stuff!

In the far future, I'll export it as an exe so you guys can try it out as well!

Next up in future again is probably rooms in comte's mansion, Sakamaki's house rooms, some piofiore rooms, and continuing with Olympia Soiree. Those interiors seem the easiest to start with.

comment to be tagged in future updates of this project!

tagging:@pettyval @h34rt1lly @dark-frosted-heart @vampiresruinlives @h34rt1lly @bespectacledbun

also if any has any questions or suggestions plz feel free to comment or dm me! Any feedback is appreciated!