#think i might write more on this

[suntails]

love will truly live

[egophiliac]

Final manifestations for Book 7?

I'm trying REALLY hard not to build up any solid expectations, because I wanna go in ~fresh~! they're already so far away from anything I thought would happen (not in a bad way, I'm just accepting that I'm on Miss Yana's Wild Ride at this point and we're seeing this thing through 'til the end, by gum). so it's nothing too major, but:

they've been handing new crying expressions out like candy lately, I want to see some delicious Malleus tears.

honestly I want everyone to cry buckets. their tears sustain me. the more Silver angst specifically I get the happier I am.

SILVER!!!! 👏 VANROUGE!!!! 👏

just let him have this. the poor boy's been through so much. let him have his big "I'm proud of you, son" moment with Lilia.

I'm 100% expecting Grim's arc (and probably whatever's going on with Crowley) to be its own episode, but a nice hook to leave us hanging on would be good!

a nice hook though, please, I don't think I can take another "Grim is attacking us! now wait eight months to find out what happens :)" cliffhanger...

some Meleanor? as a treat? just a little bit, a tiny quick flashback or something, please Twst I just, I just want to see her again. let her have a little ghost cameo like Dawnathan Knight got. Lilia and his kids are all having their big group hug or whatever and she can gently fade in to be all like

(turning asks off until I'm done playing, SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE Y'ALL)

[paradox-n-bedrock]

me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-

*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*

me: okay, folks, it's you and me now

[starssoblue]

“things were so hard with dad in recent years...how did he go from paparapluie to père? i wish i could face him and understand, but while he was still here i didn't dare try to tell him [any of my feelings] and now...it's too late.” * paparapluie is a pun on the words papa and parapluie (umbrella) since the plush is a frog. père is the french word for 'father.'

[lady-potato-ninja]

I recently made a poll to decide between two drawing ideas and Emperor/Empress Bingqiu won by a large margin! I have a very specific vision in my head about what Empress shizun should look like and although these come close I'm not sure they are quite it.... Somebody on here said it was difficult to come with a design for this and I wholeheartedly agree it's so tough 😩

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Severance AU: Get me out of here.

[stellewriites]

simon is a he/him lesbian in this fic. he’s a gender nonconforming cis woman & prefers using a masc name and pronouns

huge thank you to woolie, birdy, gougie, báir & three for being so encouraging and helping me with this fic and to kitty for making all of my oc names as always :3

this is a love letter to butches <33

Riley (he/him), 31, female.

Looking for a roommate ASAP. DM for details, don’t fuck me about.

you’d found the post on an online forum asking for a roommate and hadn’t hesitated to reach out immediately when you saw you were in the same city. your current roommate was only a few weeks away from moving in with her boyfriend, which would leave you with an apartment you couldn’t afford on your own.

although the post left everything to the imagination, the options for roommates were slim pickings and the single room apartments on the market were no cheaper, meaning you were getting desperate.

after a brief back and forth online with riley, he explained that his own roommate was moving out which was why he was looking for someone new to fill the spot. the apartment was cheap for the area - not that he told you where it was- and you’d have your own bedroom but you’d share the living room and kitchen, there were two small bathrooms, and storage in the shallow loft since it was the top floor apartment.

standard stuff but it sounded perfect.

riley was a blunt texter, but you assumed he’d maybe had his fill of people messing him about so far and just wanted to get down to business and find a roommate before he was stuck in the same position as you; paying double rent for a place that wasn’t worth it, digging into savings to stay afloat.

after covering whether you smoked (quit last year), had any pets (allergic), or liked frequent house parties (too shy), he offered to meet up to go into more detail about the place and you’d jumped at the chance, naming a cafe you liked to frequent near your work.

you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived and found a table near the window - or more accurately, what you’d been picturing riley to look like - but you’d had to school your features into something less flustered when a tall woman in a baggy hoody and a pair of black work out shorts walked in and bee-lined for your corner.

as he walked your eyes glued themselves to his nike shorts as they rose up his thighs, indecently tight, showing off the thick muscle covered in a smattering of soft, unshaven hair, light enough that it glistened in the afternoon light. as he got closer you noticed a smattering of scars leading up his shins to his knees and stretch marks curving around the inside of his thighs.

you felt the urge to reach out and touch when you felt the weight of his own gaze taking you in for the first time.

“riley?” you’d asked hesitantly, when you finally managed to lift your head up to face him, cheeks ablaze. beneath his hood you could see that the scars continued on his face; almost prominently one ran from mid chin through his lips and up his cheek, another, smaller but thicker, ran from his hairline to two inches down his forehead slightly off centre.

you were mesmerised.

“prefer simon,” he’d corrected but nodded, his voice lighter than you’d expected but thickly accented.

he pulled down his hood with a scant look around the cafe to reveal a short cropped haircut, a little shaggy at the top. he took the seat opposite you and you sat up straight when your knees bumped accidentally. you snatched your legs back beneath your chair and clenched your thighs tightly together as the warmth of his bare skin throbbed through your jeans.

christ what was wrong with you? you had the attention of one hot, tall butch and suddenly you were a bag of nerves and fumbling all over the place. get it together.

“oh! yeah ok, cool,” you said and tried to smile normally. “simon.”

“not what you were expecting?” he asked wryly.

“uhm, no,” you admitted with an embarrassed little huff. “not exactly; i don’t really know what i was expecting though to be fair.”

“want to back out? no ‘ard feelings,” simon offered indifferently. guarded.

“no! no, i’m still very interested,” you insisted, biting your cheek when he raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “i ordered already, uhm. got here a little early after work so i figured why not? i just got you a latte, i should’ve maybe asked.”

you felt wrong footed in front of his confidence. his legs were spread wide beneath the table, feet planted on the outside of yours and suddenly this felt less like a first meeting for a roommate and instead like your ideal first date.

you looked over at the counter and tapped your leg impatiently when you couldn’t see your drinks.

“that’s nice of ya.”

“i wanted to make a good first impression if we’re gonna be roomies,” you joked.

“mm.” he looked you up and down. “you messy?”

“excuse me?”

“i like to keep the place clean. deal breaker if you’re messy, it’s why soap had to move out.”

“soap? i don’t— yeah, i’m clean. tidy. i can keep my shit tidy,” you insisted. a waitress brought your drinks over on a tray and you thanked her quietly.

he smiled. “good, then this should be fine.” his foot tapped yours under the table. “relax. you said you came here after work?”

“yeah, i work nearby. sales calls, nothing interesting,” you shrugged and took a big sip. “pay is shit, but it covers half of the bills. what about you?”

“construction,” he said simply and your eyes drifted without permission to his hands wrapped around his mug then up to his arms hidden beneath his hoody.

“nice,” you choked out, visions of simon in a sweaty tank top throwing back a sledge hammer, not at all helping with the heat on your face and between your legs. “long hours?”

“sometimes,” he conceded. “s’why i asked about parties. don’t need to be coming home from work to an ‘ouse full’a dick’eads.”

you snorted.

“i can promise no house parties. well, maybe one around my birthday but i mean does inviting four people around for pizza really count as a house party?”

simon squinted his eyes playfully. “guess i can allow a little leniency here and there.”

you grinned behind your cup.

“what about your own friends? they swing by often?”

“not if i can help it,” simon huffed, a smile pulling at his scarred lip as you chuffed a surprised laugh. “tend to go to gaz’s or price’s house if his bird in’t home.”

the idea of a bunch of lads around the flat wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal breaker, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t going to be often regardless.

the pair of you stayed long enough to order a second drink while you discussed rent prices, tenancy agreements, and simon showed you photos of the area it was in.

“can show you the place now if you don’t need to head home yet?” he’d offered. “not too far to walk from here. could get an idea of the place and see if it fits.”

you’d nodded eagerly and followed him a couple of blocks away to a cosy, hidden away flat near the centre of town. you were surprised it was as cheap as he’d said given the location, but when the water refused to get hot in the kitchen sink when he went to wash a singular mug you soon caught on.

“boiler goes every other month, but i know how to fix it,” he’d said with a sigh, popping the kettle on instead. “taps, radiators ‘n shower all go cold.”

you winced, but it wasn’t enough to put you off. “landlord refuses to get it sorted?”

“landlord doesn’t answer my texts or calls anymore, think he got pissy w’me after i complained about him doin’ fuck all about the single glazed windows to the council few winters back.” you pursed your lips in order to not laugh but simon saw your expression and shrugged unrepentant. “arsehole needed tellin’, di’nt he?”

“i think this place will be perfect,” you settled on saying. you looked out of the nearest window and noted the working locks; the traffic was loud outside but you’d always preferred the constant buzz to send you off to sleep, the few times you’d been camping you’d not slept a wink in the silence.

he told you about the few other residents and explained the shortcuts you could take to get to work or for the shops and by time simon had finished giving you the tour of the place - a deceptively long space towards the back, hiding its double bathroom and bedrooms - you’d noticed it had gotten dark outside. when he noticed your furtive glance however, simon offered to drive you home without a second thought.

and again, not thirty minutes later when you were about to climb out of his truck with one last deep breath of his cologne, he offered to help you move in next week.

if that works for you, he’d said.

you’d started packing as soon as you got inside.

the only issue with moving in with simon - an issue you’d only noticed after having lived together for 6 months already, an issue your friends had to point out to you - was that the dating pool in manchester suddenly seemed a little drab. a little pathetic.

“i really don’t think si has anything to do with the fact that i can’t find anyone i’m interested in when we go out anymore, i think it makes more sense that all the hot women are just no longer single now,” you’d laughed when your friend had suggested it.

sure you thought simon was insanely hot, and that opinion had only solidified after spending the last half a year with him; seeing him braless more often than not beneath his muscle shirts when he lounged around the flat on his off days, pressing closer than necessary after a shower when you tried to pass by in the hallway, working out in the living room grunting and groaning as he hit his push-up goal, sweating and stretching obscenely as you tried to keep your eyes respectfully locked on your phone or the tv.

you were well aware that simon was sexy but more importantly off limits, so you didn’t let it affect your dating life. or so you thought.

“doesn’t help that you barely come out on a night with us,” emma pouted. “even less now that you hang out with simon most evenings.”

“when was the last time you hooked up with someone? even just kissed someone?” ash asked before you could defend your lack of social life, their eyebrow raised as if to prove their point.

you sighed. it had been a while, and taking care of things by yourself wasn’t really working out too well. simon always seemed to come home just when the frustration peaked enough for you to grab your vibrator, and you knew from the girls he’d taken home in the first few months that the walls were in fact thin enough to hear everything. with gritted teeth and wet panties, you always had to put it back in your drawer and wait for another day for some ‘me time’.

quotas for no nut november were being accidentally exceeded so much so that you were heading into catholic nun absolution. it was almost mid may; you needed to find someone to break you out of your funk sooner than later. get over by getting under or whatever.

“we’re not trying to guilt you into coming out with us,” emma added kindly, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “we know you don’t always like the crowd and that’s fine. but we just want you to be getting the dick or pussy that you deserve.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “what do you suggest then?”

emma shared a look with ash. “well…”

it hadn’t taken much more convincing from your friends to set up an account for you on tinder after that.

you spent some time on your profile, trying to find the right blend of funny but not too snarky, sexy but still approachable. it was a nightmare but the thought of getting your tits kissed and played with by someone else after almost half a year was enough to keep you on track. you just needed to focus and get it done.

——

as you walked back to your flat with ash after grabbing lunch together, you flicked through the options in your area.

“oh, she’s cute!” ash scrolled through the photos before cackling. “she’s funny too, listen, ‘if you google top places to eat out in the city, i’m the number one spot. better make your reservation quick’.”

you laughed. “oh that’s bad, si would find that funny.”

ash sent you a deadpan stare before going back to the profile. “so swiping right?”

you hummed and glanced at the phone again. “i don’t know, i don’t think she’s my type.”

“the last ten profiles ‘haven’t been your type,’ admit you’re just being picky,” ash pointed out.

“i’ve got standards is all,” you huffed. “i’m not just going to say yes to everyone.”

“she was exactly what you normally go for; strong build, blonde and funny in a dumb way according to the bio, aka you catnip,” they said. “hell, i’m surprised she’s not one of your exes.”

“fuck you,” you laughed and elbowed them. “i don’t even have a type, i don’t know why i said that.”

“oh please,” ash guffawed. “i can and will list the many attributes your exes all share if i have to.”

you sent them a scathing look and they held up their hands in defeat, a smug smile ruining their supposedly conceding pose.

“the only outlier was that weird austrian that i told you not to give the time of day to,” they continued. their face crumpled into a look of disgust, nose wrinkled and eyes pained. “could tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he doesn’t wash his dick.”

you pouted and ground your teeth in a grimace, unable to disagree on any count. he was certainly a lapse in judgement, you wouldn’t deny it.

“i’m just not feeling it, ash. i don’t want to waste her time when i don’t see the attraction. it’s not fair on her.” you shrugged and took back your phone to swipe left. “maybe my type has changed.”

ash stayed quiet a moment, looking contemplative as you both continued walking.

“ok you have a point. there’s no need to waste people’s time, but - and hear me out - everyone on there is just treading water trying to figure out who they want to fuck. she might spend a week talking to you and then ghost,” ash explained.

“great, cheers for that,” you chuffed.

“you know what i mean,” they rolled their eyes. “everyone’s figuring out if they want to go on a date or jump in bed with each other on there, you’re not wasting anyone’s time by giving them a chance. let yourself be wooed.”

“‘wooed’, i’m not looking for a mr darcy,” you joked.

“then actually give these people a shot, it’s not like they’re looking for marriage either,” ash countered. “or maybe you’ve got a specific person in mind distracting you that you’re making unfair comparisons to.”

you glared as you entered the apartment building. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. you opened the app up again and bit your lip before swiping right on the first five profiles that appeared, showing your friend as you did. “there, happy?”

your phone buzzed and you looked down with wide eyes as all five accounts matched you back. the app directed you to the messaging centre and you looked at ash sheepishly.

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” they warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes as you waited in the elevator. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your floor. you unlocked the door to your flat and dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on here for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing. “s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder.

“show me,” he ordered softly. you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

you chuffed an unimpressed laugh at the profile that popped up first. “‘want to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome for his birthday, any takers?’ jesus christ, the dating pool is so dire,” you whined.

simon chuckled behind you. “bloke looks like he’d barely be able to handle ya either, look at ‘im. he’d ruin his pants before you even took ya bra off.”

“at least i’d be able to concentrate on the girlfriend then,” you snickered along with him.

“nah, best you’d get from her is a bit o’ tongue for show,” simon said. “can tell by the profile ‘er heart’s not in it.”

you swiped left and simon was immediately ready to point out the failings of this profile too, and then again when you swiped left after laughing along, and again after that.

the way he leant over you blocked your friend from your view, but simon could see the knowing look ash was giving him directly in his peripheral, but he chose to ignore it. especially when he lowered one hand into your lap to start swiping left himself.

you let your free hand rise to play with simon’s long shirt sleeve before you suddenly took in his attire and frowned.

“why are you dressed for work?” you turned to sit on your knees facing the back of the sofa as he rose up to his full height to see him wearing his work trousers and steel-toe boots, his hi-vis vest tucked into his waistband.

“john rang, asked me to cover soap’s shift when he went home sick after lunch. i’ll be back from the lot later; might be late in the evening if i have to go grab a few things for ‘im from b&q before it closes for tomorrow,” he said, contrite.

you pouted heavy and exaggerated. “movie night’s cancelled? fuck you, john price.”

simon snorted, his scarred lip lifting at one side in obvious mirth. “i’ll tell ‘im y’said that, shall i?”

“fine with me, i’m not afraid of him,” you goaded.

“he’s ex military you know,” simon winced jokingly.

you rolled your eyes. “no duh. so are you.”

he hummed a low single note.

“and you wouldn’t let him touch a hair on my head, right si?” you continued shamelessly.

“i’d tell him there’s no point wasting time trying to teach you manners. any time i try to knock some sense into ya noggin it just echoes,” he huffed, holding back a smile as he tapped his knuckles on your crown for emphasis.

you swiped at his fist with a hiss.

“you can piss off to your job already then if you’re going to take the mick,” you laughed. you kept your hands to yourself otherwise, knowing better than to try and push him away after one too many failed attempts. his stomach was always firm enough to keep your best efforts from moving him, but topped with a thick and soft enough layer that it gave way beneath your prodding fingers and roaming palm.

“i’ll make it up t’ya. another night,” he promised lowly, bending down close again to whisper. as your pout lessened he nodded before heading out.

“wooow,” ash exaggerated and lengthened the word sarcastically as they sat watching you slump back to sit normally now that simon was gone. “it’s somehow worse than i thought.”

“hm?”

“does he always fold like a cheap suit when you flash the puppy dog eyes at him?” ash laughed.

“you’re seeing things, he literally just cancelled on me,” you argued and turned to the tv to channel surf. “are you staying for tea? think i’ve got the stuff in for a curry, could pirate that new horror with kyle gallner.”

ash rubbed at their chin. “don’t think i didn’t notice the subject change… but i’m listening.”

——

you got your movie night with si a few days later with the pair of you lounged on the couch, simon’s heavy, long legs draped across your lap as you waited for the take out you’d ordered to arrive.

your phone buzzed with a notification and simon perked up. “food here?”

you took a moment to respond, looking at your phone and tapping away for a second before shaking your head. “no, just a message.”

you phone buzzed again just before you could put it back down and you unlocked it again with a growing smile.

“oh, ‘s emma asking about dog sittin’ again?” he guessed.

“it’s not emma,” you said easily, without further detail, distracted by your phone.

before simon could ask, a knock at the door had him swinging his legs down and heading to grab the bag of food. he grabbed some cutlery from the kitchen on the way back before slumping heavily down next to you, spreading his thighs wide enough to press against yours.

he frowned when he saw you were still engrossed in your phone, a little secretive smile pulling at your lips. at the smell of the food you looked up and your eyes brightened, you put your phone back on the table and ignored it when it buzzed, helping simon instead, sitting back when you had your share and pressing play on your movie. when the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession you bit your lip and glanced at it.

“answer it,” simon said bitingly, having figured out who’d be messaging you by that point. the stupid, bloody app. “but tell ‘em you’re busy with a woman already.”

your eyes widened and you coughed out a surprised laugh. “si.”

“tell ‘em you’re not hanging out with ‘em next week either, you can’t make it. you’re busy with me instead,” he continued, the weight of his hooded gaze heavy and stifling.

“but i’m not busy, we don’t have plans next week,” you said weakly, confused.

simon huffed heavily through his nose. you’d almost think it was bordering on angry but for the entire time you’d known him, simon had never gotten angry at you, even when you accidentally shrunk his brand new sports bra on a too-hot wash.

you both tensed when your phone buzzed again.

“let me turn off my notifications,” you said and reached for the phone furtively. you skimmed your notifications and felt something bloom in your chest at the mention of a date from one of your matches, but you didn’t mention it to simon. “there we go, now we can focus on movie night,” you said with a grin, scooping another forkful of sweet & sour chicken into your mouth.

simon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. he looked to your half empty glass and stood up. “want me to grab you another drink?”

you smiled, mouth closed and cheeks full of rice, and nodded as he chuckled. he turned away before the urge to poke your puffy cheeks won out and you accidentally spat rice out on the rug.

——

>> any new matches? 👀👀👀

you pursed your lips as you read the text from emma.

<< a few. might have a date next week

<< depends if she plays her cards right

>> lol is it the librarian or the electrician?

<< electrician. might give me mates rates if i ask her to check out the faulty leccy wiring in the flat :p

>> more like dates rates ;)

>> she was cute 😍 where’s the date?

<< she mentioned getting dinner, a new place that just opened up that she said was meant to be cool

>> the thai place? omgggg i’ve been meaning to go! give me ur review after pls and ty

>> and i mean the food, but any dirty deets are welcome too 👀👀

<< ???

<< i haven’t agreed to go yet

>> 🙄 girl…

>> what happened to giving them a chance, ash said you were on board

<< idk si was acting really weird the other day

<< he got really moody about it all, practically told me to fob it all off and just hang out with him instead

<< i think he’s worried

you had been watching a few murder documentaries lately, and one too many of them had started off as innocent dates or first meet ups that ended in tragedy.

>> i think he’s jealous

you stared at the text as your stomach flipped.

<< ???

>> he’s literallyyyy had a huge crush on u since forever

>> this is not news 😐

you scoffed but felt your stomach clench and hesitated to text back.

>> don’t believe me? just watch how he acts around you over the next few days and see if he does any of these repeatedly

emma sent a screenshot from a website listing ‘things she does if she likes you’ and you snorted. it felt trivial, like you were a teenager again, but you decided to play along.

<< fine. but he won’t.

you sent your quick affirmative back before putting your phone down and finishing your break.

the idea of simon liking you was an impossible one in your mind. simon had brought home women from the moment you’d moved in, it had never been a deterrent and he’d always said you were welcome to do the same as long as they didn’t stick around when he had a day off.

recently though, you thought, there’d been less and less women traipsing out of si’s room giggling and flushed, staring adoringly up at the tall butch woman. sadly, you knew exactly how good simon was in bed from the enthusiastic sounds of his previous partners over the months, so you couldn’t blame them for tripping over their feet as they were ushered towards the exit, an eager ‘call me, yeah?’ breathed out just before the door was closed forever.

that was another reason you’d never made a move. even if sometimes there had been moments where you had thought simon’s gaze lingered too long or his touch couldn’t be excused as just friendly; you couldn’t take being a one night stand. not with him, and not when you’d have to move out when your feelings inevitably bubbled over.

you bit your lip as you cooked that evening. simon was chopping the veg for your bolognese as you were left to watch over the pasta - last time you’d burnt it when you’d turned away and gotten distracted and you refused to let simon hold that over you for any longer.

“you know i can go stay at ash’s or with emma and her partner for a day or two if you want,” you offered out of the blue.

simon stopped cutting and looked at you.

“why the fuck would i want tha’?”

you swallowed. “i just noticed you haven’t had many people ‘round recently and thought maybe it was because i was home,” you said, barely meeting his eyes. “so i can make myself sparse for a few days, it’s no bother. i don’t mind.”

“i had johnny over just the other day,” simon said as though you might have forgotten. the boisterous scot had managed to fondly wiggle his way into gaining your friendship the few times he’d popped by for simon. “and gaz and the lads are all coming by next week. y’dont need t’ leave.” he went back to chopping though much more forcefully now, the chopping board dully thumping with each downward cut he made through the courgette.

“yeah… but what about other visitors?” you hedged. “the walls are thin, si, so i thought maybe you’d want the place to yourself again temporarily so you can—“

“no. i don’t want the place to m’self. i like havin’ you here, like hearing you move around in the night and in the mornings,” he interrupted without looking up. “you stay.” he paused for a moment, doubting himself even as you nodded along. “unless you want to go?”

“god no! no, i just thought i should offer,” you laughed a little awkwardly.

he frowned deeper.

“do you want me to go?”

you paused, you mouth flapping like a fish. this was an option you’d not considered. you noticed simon’s eyes grow more and more desperate, his grip on the veg in front of him tightening as he waited for your response.

“no. never, si,” you said.

he watched you a moment more before nodding. “good. wouldn’t have anyway.”

you snorted a laugh and looked back to the spaghetti, hissing when you saw it had stuck to the bottom of the pan. “shit.”

“…tell me you haven’t managed to burn it a second time.”

——

your conversation with simon reminded you of the article emma had sent you. it took less than a week to notice how differently simon acted with others in comparison to how considerate he was with you.

he made the effort to hold eye contact at the start of your conversations, and if you ever paused too long in your reply his eyes would flicker back up from where they’d drifted to his food or phone to check why. you’d never doubted he was always listening, but seeing it first hand reassured you that he was without fail. and it only highlighted, now that you looked for it, how closely he kept to himself when strangers tried to pick up a conversation with him, how he used as few words as possible on the off chance he did reply.

you wouldn’t hesitate to consider simon tactile, soft-handed and gentle. but you knew that was a privilege. the same with his smiles, spotted in flash of crooked teeth or the slow crinkle of his dark eyes paired with the pull of his scar on the occasion he wore his mask.

at your realisation, you began to check the list religiously each night in the safety of your bed as though trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t noticed the way simon mirrored your own behaviour. how he’d lean opposite you in the small kitchen, tilting his head a second after yours as you complained about work, boiling the kettle for a cuppa after a long day.

you’d pretend not to notice him on the phone twenty minutes later, cancelling going out with his friends, again, so he could stay with you while you relax for the weekend.

you found he’d swapped the brand of peanut butter you usually bought after the last one gave you a tummy ache without mentioning it, he’d asked about your grandad’s birthday even though you’d brought it up offhandedly weeks before, he let you run your hands through his hair near his scar when he napped on the sofa. the list went on.

but you’d already agreed to that date with the electrician.

——

“i don’t know if i’ve come down with something, my stomachs not right. i don’t think think i should go,” you complained as you got ready for your date, your phone propped up on your dresser with ash and emma’s faces on screen as you video called. “i feel queasy.”

“that’s just the nerves, you’ll be ok once you get there,” emma soothed.

“want us to meet you afterwards?” ash asked.

“maybe, yeah,” you hummed. “or maybe call me an hour in just in case it isn’t going well so i can have an excuse to leave?”

“how does ‘your long lost brother just woke from a coma and you’re the only one he remembers’ sound?” ash asked.

“dramatic enough for me to make my escape,” you laughed.

“you won’t need it,” emma reassured. “you’ll be too busy flirting and fawning over her muscles to even answer the phone.”

you laughed harder and the ache in your stomach faded ever so slightly as you pulled on your shoes and got ready to leave. simon was still at work, pulling some extra hours to get the job back on schedule after johnny’s time off, which meant the flat was empty as you left.

you bit your lip and headed to the restaurant, waving shyly from the entrance when you saw jessi, the electrician, already seated and waiting on you.

“hey, been here long?” you asked as you took your seat.

“barely five minutes,” she reassured you with an easy smile. “you look stunning, by the way. worth the wait.”

you thanked her, and took in her styled hair and half unbuttoned dress shirt from across the table. you felt a little underdressed in comparison but hid your insecurity when you smiled at her across the table.

“are you always this shy?” she asked when you stayed silent a beat too long, her grin turning sly and teasing.

you laughed a little self depreciatingly and shrugged. “it’s been a little while since i went on a date,” you admitted, butterflies starting to flutter at her sharp gaze.

“i’ll go easy on you then,” she promised and winked before handing you a menu. “what looks good to you?”

——

you’d thought the date was going fine, good, even. the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind and when emma had called you’d screened it and smiled at the winky face she’d sent a moment later.

jessi was fun to talk to; her humour was maybe a little more forced than what you liked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. you’d thought she was enjoying herself too given the flirtatious comments, the lingering looks and how her ankle kept brushing yours.

but just before you could suggest ordering desserts, she stood and grabbed her coat.

“this has been…” she trailed off. “maybe you’re not ready for dating, you know?”

she’d dropped a few twenty notes on the table and left before you could ask what the fuck that meant.

you called over the waiter, covered the rest of the bill and made your own downtrodden exit soon after, dessert suddenly not seeming so appetising.

“tell me you’re going to her house to stay the night and that this is a safety call,” ash said as soon as they answered.

you huffed a sarcastic laugh. “nope.” you popped the ‘p’ and scuffed your toe along the pavement as you walked.

“fuck, this isn’t a good sign then. no dessert?” you heard emma mumble in the background.

“put me on speaker if you two are still hanging out,” you said and hugged your thin jacket tighter with your free arm as you started heading down the dark street towards your apartment.

“how’d it go?” emma asked a moment later.

“i thought it was going good,” you whined. “she was nice, we were chatting, i was engaging! but she just… left?”

“what were you chatting about?” ash asked.

“just the basics; work, friends, hobbies, roommates,” you listed.

“oh god,” emma groaned on the other end of the line. you heard her voice become muffled as though her face was in a pillow as she grumbled, “you didn’t.”

“what?” you asked with a frown. “it was good, she was being flirty.”

“yeah no shit, it was a date,” ash snorted. “how many times did simon come up?”

“don’t start this again—“

“because you were literally talking about him other day when we walked by a black and white cat just because it had little ‘socks’ and it reminded you to do laundry when you got back.”

“i promised to do simon’s while he’s been picking up extra hours,” you defended yourself. “he literally had to walk around shirtless the other week when i forgot to add them in for him.”

“oh, the grown woman who can and often does do his own washing just had to walk around with just a flimsy little sports bra and boxers on all day? sure, sure.” you could practically hear ash roll their eyes. emma snickered in the background and there was a slight shuffling which was never a good sign. “yep, here it is. and i quote ‘the way he’s built… like a damn chew toy. need to sink my teeth in to him, it’s like my jaw buzzes every time i see him with the urge to clamp down on his bicep.’ those are your texts to our group chat from that same day.”

“the texts i send when im ovulating should never be repeated out loud,” you hissed. “and do we really need more evidence that he’s synonymous with my wet dreams now, i’ve already admitted that i like him.”

“so you know this is a safe space,” ash said facetiously. “answer the question: how many times do you think you managed to bring him up in conversation?”

you chewed your cheek in frustration. ash would know if you lied but thinking back on it you didn’t really want to admit how many times you managed to bring up simon for your own dignity.

“look they had the same boots on, ok? and when she talked about her work it was the only way i could try to relate if i told her how simon had mentioned the same things,” you reasoned.

ash cackled on the other end of the phone and suddenly emma was talking while their laughter grew faded.

“have you looked at that list i sent you?” she asked, her tone oddly low and sobering.

“yeah, i can’t stop thinking about it,” you huffed. you paused to cross the street. “but it feels like i’m just making them up because i like him and he’s just being a normal roommate.”

“you’re not and he’s definitely not,” emma chuffed. “and i think you know that too.”

you were silent as you walked, your steps slow and careful even as the bitter cold wind snapped at your cheeks.

“he likes me?” you asked softly.

“no duh,” ash’s voice rang from the background making you laugh. they got closer and you could picture your friends crammed on emma’s shitty little couch as they spoke to you. “why do you think he’s always walking around flexing his muscles like that, huh? we’re in manchester, i don’t care if it’s almost summer, it’s not bloody warm enough for it!”

“and simon has you as his lock screen,” emma added like a 1-2 punch before you had chance to try and explain any of it away. “he always cancels on his mates to see you instead, and don’t get me started on how touchy he is with you.”

“he’s tactile…” even as you said it you didn’t believe it. though you couldn’t keep count of how many times this week alone si had let a warm hand land on your shoulder, knee, back, wrist, neck; you knew he barely touched anyone else.

"girl. simon?" emma snorted probably thinking the same thing as you.

“he likes me,” you said more confidently into the phone.

“oh thank fuck, she’s finally caught on,” ash said as emma laughed.

“i could literally be swapping spit with him right now and instead i’ve just wasted like two hours on a shitty date, oh my god,” you bemoaned.

you don’t know when you’d stopped walking but in a second you were speeding up to a jog as you said goodbye to your friends and hung up, fumbling to put your phone in you bag. eager to get back home and to see simon.

——

you crammed your key into the front door’s lock when you got home and groaned exaggeratedly when it didn’t turn. simon must’ve left his key in the door, again. of all the bloody times.

you knocked hurriedly, loudly, impatiently.

“siiiimon, open the door, come on i’m cold out here, you wouldn’t leave me shivering and lonely just because you forgot to put your key on the keyhook i specifically bought for—“ you cut off your joking whine when the most stunningly beautiful woman you’d ever seen opened the door to you, a knowing smile on her plush lips.

“oh,” you croaked. almost reflexively, your throat closed up and your eyes started to sting. “i must have the wrong flat.”

“what? no, you’re—” her smile dropped slightly and her dark eyes grew curious, but you didn’t stick around long enough to see.

“sorry, my fault! i’m meant to be on the floor above,” you rushed out and pretended to laugh. “silly me. sorry again.” tucking tail you turned to the fire exit at the top of the small staircase without waiting for a reply.

you knew the short staircase lead to the roof, simon had shown you one time and there were enough signs pointing it out. on the other side of the door was a small, flat balcony that stuck out of the slanted roof, and had old metal ladders that dropped 3/4 of the way down along the side of the building, in between the detached restaurant next door.

given you were the top flat in this little rinkydink building the woman at your door had probably thought you were an idiot and you couldn’t blame her. you decided to stick it out for ten minutes outside before sneaking back down and heading over to emma’s with your heart in your hands ready to be mended with the power of friendship and alcohol and food.

you sat down on the shitty little balcony and groaned loudly, desperately holding back your tears lest you fell into a despair and ended up accidentally falling asleep out of exhaustion and dramatics up there instead.

you’d finally realised your feelings and it was too late; simon had clearly taken your previous offers on board and moved on. you’d given him a free night while you went on a stupid date, what else was he going to do since you’ve been continually - though not purposely - pushing him aside like he was disposable.

“fuck,” you sighed shakily.

“date that bad you’re thinking of jumping?”

you swore in surprise and span in your spot to see simon leant in the fire exit doorway.

you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “yeah it was,” you said before looking back down to your hands. “sorry, i didn’t know you were busy or i’d have gone to a friend’s instead.”

simon frowned and stood up straight. “stop saying you want to go somewhere else,” he said stiffly, swallowing thickly before taking the few steps to sit next to you. “when i’m here.” he knocked your shoulders together. “gaz said you freaked out at the door?”

you looked up at him in confusion. “gaz? that was ky— she’s called kylie, not kyle isn’t she?” you asked with wide eyes. simon’s accent had hidden her real name and convinced you all his mates were men and you’d never thought to second guess it. “christ, i thought she was— never mind.”

simon tilted his head as a knowing smile grew on his face.

“you thought i’d brought someone round for a shag?”

“well, she’s very fucking gorgeous,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. he leant his weight further into your side.

“mm. haven’t noticed.” at your unimpressed look he shrugged. “got my eye on someone else, ‘aven’t i?”

you nodded but avoided his eyes. seeing an unknown woman answer your door - gaz or not - had knocked your confidence more than you’d have liked to admit.

simon snorted.

“talk t’me, thought i was meant to be the quiet, brooding one.”

you looked across at him for a moment before leaning in to hug him tightly. you let the scent of his aftershave soak in and sighed when his own arms automatically wrapped around you too.

“you’re an amazing friend, si,” you whispered. and with how close you were pressed together, you easily felt how he stiffened at the title. you squeezed him harder in response, garnering yourself some more confidence at the same time, and sucked in a cold breath to speak. “and i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

you felt a whoosh of air against your neck as the breath left simon’s body; he went loose in your hold and you buried your head deeper into his shoulder.

he tried to catch your eyes, ducking his head as best he could, but you���d thoroughly tucked yourself in against him as you felt a stinging heat spread from your cheeks outwards, your heart kicking its way through your chest and likely thumping noticeably against his own.

with gentle and patient cajoling, he managed to nudge you back up to face him and you offered up a wobbly smile.

“are you serious?” he asked breathlessly.

you nodded. “i’m sorry it took me so long to reali—“

simon coughed out a wet and surprised laugh and pulled you in for a kiss, his scar catching against your dry lips before you were able to slip your tongue out to wet them briefly. his hands were firm as they cupped your round cheeks, not letting you break for a breath until the very last second, determined to take all he could get before it came crashing down on him.

“y’r an idiot, so fuckin into ya. been a nightmare living with you, unable t’touch,” he mumbled against your lips and suddenly it was your turn to laugh into the kiss.

“unable? all you do is touch me,” you giggled, gasping when he took the chance to flick his tongue against yours.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you huffed. “drives me mad, si.”

“only gonna get worse here on,” he promised. “never taking my hands off ya, off your fat arse and soft tits.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. “fuck.” you’d be dripping like a tap at all times if that was the case and going by simon’s smirk, he knew it.

“i’ve had to deal with your dumb mate fucking teasing me about liking ya for months now too,” he grumbled.

“they’re not dumb.” you leant in to bite his lip meanly. “and i’m sure your friends will be teasing me for what just happened too, never mind me being so blind to be on dating apps while we were practically already together.”

simon groaned. “i fucking hated those apps.”

you kissed him sweetly in apology, a soft peck to the lips then each cheek as he greedily chased your lips.

“they’re gone now. my date was ruined because i could only talk about you the whole time. all i want is you.”

“yeah?” his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as he tugged your jacket openand slid a hand under your shirt. his rough fingertips teased at the thin material of your bra and your nipples stood to attention under his ministrations and from the chill of fresh air biting at your tummy, bared when his arm rumpled your shirt. “want me right now?”

“always,” you panted. “but…”

you furtively glanced to the door.

“no one comes up here. i can be quick.”

“your friends are waiting,” you reminded him.

“fuck my friends,” he scoffed and tweaked at a nipple, grinning at the squeak you let out.

“would rather fuck you,” you joked weakly even as he pulled his hand back to pluck at your jean’s button and zipper.

“then what are we waiting for?” he asked.

you moaned and gasped when he slipped his hand down the front gusset of your jeans and into your panties before you gained the cognisance to pull it back out with a groan. “later, later,” you promised. “wanna get you naked.”

simon stared at you for a second and you worried he was annoyed at you for putting your foot down. he nodded however, licked his lips as he glanced back to the door and then dipped down to kiss you lightly.

“i’m kicking the lads out then, gimme five.” he stood and took few broad strides to get back to the stairs inside.

you laughed and called after him as he darted back down, taking two at a time as you followed with a grin, struggling with your jeans. “si, don’t be daft.”

“smartest move i’ve made in a long time.” he said as he walked back in to your flat. “everyone out. want some time wiv my girl.”

“ayy congrats!” soap called from the couch.

“that means now, soap.”

“don’t hafta tell us twice,” the scot stood with a slap to his knees and saluted simon on his way out. “ye coming, ky?”

“it was nice meeting ya,” gaz said as she wandered past, winking. you hid your hot cheeks in your shoulders but couldn’t help the flustered grin that spread as simon barely waited for the door to be closed before shedding his shirt, leaving him in a sports bra and his baggy trackies.

“get comfy. not letting ya leave til i’ve had m’fill.”

“funny you think it won’t be me dragging you back for more. let’s see if you can keep up, si. i’ve been told i’m pretty demanding.”

“always loved a challenge.”

you grinned wickedly. “come and get me then.”

butch/stud masterlist

moodboard masterlist

updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)

[starmocha]

"On your knees."

Your strangled gasp barely passes your lips as you are pulled down all of a sudden by his Evol. You struggle to move, the gravity around you is much heavier than it should be. Kneeling before him, you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down, and then seconds later, his cold voice commanding, "Now suck."

When you hesitate, he reverts the gravity around you, and you nearly tumble forward, unprepared for the sudden lightweightness again. Little fluttering gasps escape when his gloved hand just barely touch your chin, the pads of his fingers touching just enough to tilt your head upwards and your eyes focus in on his hardened cock, already dripping with precum.

For a moment, you swallow, the taste of his cum already registering in your brain before your mouth instinctively part enough to take in the tip, slowly taking in more and more of him. He tenses briefly, his own breathing unsteadied, almost as if he was unprepared for how good this felt.

"That's it," he groans as you take more of his cock in your mouth. His large hand cradles the back of your head as he praises you. "What a good little cocksleeve you are."

He smiles, amused, when you seem to preen with delight at his words. "Do you like it when I praise you?"

You moan in response around him in your mouth, his immediate shallow, slow thrusts have your eyes brimming with tears as you let him use you for his pleasure. When he yanks your head back by a fistful of your hair, you peer up into those beautiful amethyst eyes of his, ready to drown in them and submit to his will completely. When he spoke again, you could feel yourself pulsing, aching to be his in body and soul.

He could see your desires in your eyes, always knowing you better than even yourself. He smiles again, and croons, "Then be a good little fucktoy for me, and I will praise you more, my pretty little slut."

[ejsuperstar]

Imagine you live in pelican town. The new farmer has been here a couple weeks now and seems to be settling in, except... He's picking the weirdest friend choices. Like sure it's not weird to befriend the local fisherman, especially when he has an interest in fishing himself, but you're pretty sure you've seen him rooting through the Saloon's garbage with the local homeless man. As well, he keeps harassing the poor guy who works at Joja even though you KNOW he doesn't want to be friends with him.

And since you're on the topic of weirdness, isn't it odd he seemingly runs everywhere at a full sprint? Or just... Eats entire raw fish while fishing for "energy reasons"...

...

Despite all that, it's too early to call him off putting or anything... He has been engaging in town traditions, and he's started helping out with the old community centre. He's probably like the rest of you. Someone with a few quirks, that will fit in with the valley great!

Surely he can't get any weirder... Right?

[corkinavoid]

For @pinklotushere, to 'Die With a Smile' by Lady GaGa and Bruno Mars,

DPxDC Before Tomorrow

"I didn't know where else to go."

Danny looks up at the vigilante who is standing on the edge of the roof just a few feet away from him. He watches him fidget and roll his shoulders uncomfortably, then reach up and peel his domino mask off. He won't meet Danny's eyes, he notices absentmindedly.

"Your family, maybe?" He offers, and Tim's shoulders slump in relief.

They hadn't spoken to each other since that very heated discussion over a week ago. Okay, some might have even called it a fight, what with all the yelling, but hey, no one threw punches, so it was still pretty civil in Danny's book.

"They are still running around trying to stop it," Tim shrugs, the line of tension in his shoulders still barely there. Ah, the sole reason that discussion got so heated in the first place. The burden of heroism. Fighting till the very end, even if there's nothing you can do.

Danny turns away, his gaze firmly back on the pink, barely there line at the slowly brightening horizon - the only sign that the sunrise is almost here.

"And you're not?" He asks, not looking at Tim and trying to make the question sound easy and lighthearted. Like it's just another one of their long night talks, one that you can never remember in the morning because you didn't really talk about something in particular, you just talked.

There's a sound of footsteps coming closer, then a ruffle of Tim's cape behind his back, and a faint warmth of his shoulder brushing against Danny's. He sits down just beside, dangling his feet over the edge of the roof. Over the emptiness that is sixty stores between them and the ground.

"No," Tim shrugs, his eyes also on the brink of dawn, slowly creeping through the jagged skyline of Gotham. "I thought, hey, you know, if the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you," he says with a short laugh. Danny can't figure out if it's hysterical or just relieved. Maybe it's both.

"Like the song?" He asks, a smile tugging on his lips, "If the party was over, and our time on Earth was through?" He recites, turning to look at Tim.

He looks pretty - well, his boyfriend always looks pretty, that's not new - but this time, Danny looks closer, almost studying his face with a rapt attention of a scientist. Trying to engrave them in his memory: the line of his nose and the faint light of the not-yet-here sun, the chapped lips and the calm, almost serene blue in his eyes.

"Yeah, like the song," Tim chuckles and turns to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he appeared on the roof. "I'd wanna hold you just for a while," he murmurs, something soft in his voice, and Tim is not a great singer, but Danny loves him anyway. He loves everything about Tim. Including his stubborn decision to keep trying to do something, keep fighting when there's no way out, keep clawing his way through the ruthless circumstances that leave him no choice.

He doesn't finish the verse, and Danny gives him a crooked smile, doing it for him, "And die with a smile."

Tim's face doesn't change. He is still smiling, looking at Danny with a fondness he only likes to show behind the closed doors, and, with a short pang at his core, Danny realizes: He's dealt with it.

He's dealt with the unbending storm inside of him that pushed him to fight despite the consequences, he's came to terms with the promise of impending doom.

And he came here to sit beside Danny, dangling their feet over the edge of a skyscraper, and watch the last sunrise.

Danny feels so much love for his boyfriend that it almost hurts, his core thrumming in his chest, threatening to spill out.

The first rays of sunshine color Tim's cheek with gold, and Danny leans forward.

Tim's eyes flutter closed, but Danny doesn't kiss him, like he probably expected - and, in all fairness, like he probably should have. Instead, he only brushes his lips over the boy's cheek and leans closer to his ear.

There are thousands of things he can say, starting with the simple 'I love you' and all the way to 'I won't let you die, smile or not'.

But the one thing he says, a cheeky grin on his face, is,

"I lied. There is a way."

He did not, there isn't, but Tim takes a sharp breath in and grips his shoulder so tight it hurts, and Danny knows he will find it even if the better timeline will never come.

~•~•~•~

That song is a waltz, and waltzes always make me feel like writing heart-wrenching love stories, I'm sorry. No, I'm not, I lied.

The pure fucking devotion, people. Tim, who is okay with giving up just to spend the last minutes with Danny and Danny, who is okay with ruining the world just so he can make Tim happy. I'm in love with them.

[Also, my initial idea was to write a DarkHumor (Dick/Dan) spicy piece for this, but then Dead Tired took over my brain and ate it whole, so here we are]

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking of a new steddie fic/au hmmm.

It’s just the classic, Steve buys weed from Eddie in season 1 era, he and Tommy meet him at the bench in the woods behind school. Steve and Eddie have some playful banter and clearly get along, but it’s dismissed as just a drug deal and they go on about their lives.

Next time they meet is when a frantic Steve comes and finds Eddie after he’s just fought off the demogorgon for the first time. He’s rattled, and skittish, wearing a nasty black bruise on his eye, and just overall not acting like himself. He snaps at Eddie multiple times to just ‘hurry up’ and ‘get him his stuff’, and sure he’s being an asshole, but more than anything Eddie is just concerned. He has never seen The King Steve Harrington lose his cool like this. So Eddie cautiously gives him the weed, making sure not to give too much, and lets him go about his day, but not before asking if he’s alright. Steve clearly wasn’t expecting this and brushes it off defensively, but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it for the rest of his week. How the hell did Eddie Munson notice something was wrong, when his own parents didn’t? Nor his “friends”?

They cross paths again a year later, the beginning of season two. Steve is still with Nancy and has freshly dumped his old douchebag crew of superficial friends. He is still sitting quite comfortably on the higher ranks of popularity, but there is no denying his status is not what it used to be. He comes to buy weed from Eddie in the first week back at school, and it’s a casual interaction. He’s still as charmingly stuck up as he ever was, but now without Tommy there to judge his every move, he seems a little more at ease when making casual conversation with Eddie. Eddie doesn’t mention the year before and Steve is so glad for it, secretly very embarrassed that he went to Eddie for some refuge after arguably his most traumatic experience to date. He gets his stuff, giving Eddie a smirk when he notices he’s dropped the price significantly for Steve when it’s just him alone. Eddie gives him a challenging smile back, almost daring him to call it out, but he doesn’t. They both just laugh and part ways.

The next run in is tina’s halloween party. They notice eachother when Steve first arrives, making eye contact and giving a polite nod. Maybe Eddie lifts his drink up to Steve in a silly salute. They don’t speak at all or make any effort to hang around eachother. That is, until Steve storms down the stairs in a rage after he’d gone up there with Nancy Wheeler. But then are those- tears? Eddie was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette, trying to discreetly hide from one Billy Hargrove to avoid having to sell him anything, but staying visible enough that he won’t lose all chances of making any money tonight. Steve storms right past him and hits his shoulder. Eddie whips around and is about to call him a dick before he sees who it is.

Steve tries to quickly wipe his face, he won’t make eye contact with Eddie, and he’s clearly trying to get out as fast as he can. Eddie doesn’t let him, though, since he’s obviously not thinking very clearly and is most likely about to do something emotional and stupid. He asks if Steve’s alright, and his answers are all short and rushed, so he’s definitely not. They’re not really friends, but Eddie’s not an asshole.

— “Did you drive?” Eddie asks

“Yeah”

“Well, you’re drunk, Steve. You can’t get behind a wheel right now. And if I knowingly let you, then that makes me an accomplice. I’ll take you home.”

Steve tries to protest, attempting to push past him, but Eddie interjects. “Yeah, yeah, alright! Don’t thank me yet, Steve’o. This is not for you, see, I’m not trying to get a criminal record, here. I cant go to prison, Steve. Do you know what they’d do to a pretty guy like me in prison? Nope, let’s go hot stuff.” —

Eddie takes Steve home. They don’t talk much. By the time they reach Steve’s drive way and Eddie has put his van in park, Steve is making no attempt to exit the vehicle just yet. Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he didn’t really plan this far, so he’s just tapping away awkwardly at his steering wheel while Harrington stares down the dashboard so clearly lost in thought Eddie fears his head might explode. Steve tells Eddie what happened, says it’s ‘relationship troubles’, and he’s not quite sure what compelled him into being so honest with Eddie Munson, but he’s blaming the alcohol. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. They chat for a bit, Eddie makes Steve laugh and considers the whole night a success after that. Then they start cracking jokes about their shared hatred for Hargrove, and Steve looks and sounds a bit more ok to go inside. He thanks Eddie, quite sincerely actually, and it throws him a bit. He stutters a ‘yeah, for sure. It’s no problem.’ And Steve goes home.

After that, it’s a little different. Steve, doesn’t actually really have anyone, anymore. When they go back to school he’s now greeting Eddie here and there in the hallways, making conversation when they find themselves alone together, in the lunch line or at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t approach Eddie when there’s too many people around, though. As much as he’s grown, Steve Harrington still carry’s some prejudice in him about how certain things may make him look. But it doesn’t bother Eddie too much. It’s not like they are really friends, they’re just like, strange acquaintances. And Steve would never deny that they get along, that really Eddie’s ‘not so bad’. So that’s a win.

Steve finds Eddie again not long after the party to buy some more weed, a plan that sparked purely out of boredom. Eddie says yes, of course, but tells him if he wants it today he will need to wait till after school and meet Eddie at his place, since he was busy. So Steve takes a trip to the Munson trailer to make his deal. Eddie invites him inside and they sit together on the couch as he gets Steve’s bag ready. They end up making quite pleasant conversation, joking around and ultimately finding they are really enjoying each other’s company. They enjoy it so much so, that Steve ends up smoking there, with Eddie. So now they are kind of like, hanging out? And it’s fun, so they do it again. Still they’re not, friends friends, they just get along. Eddie just sells Steve weed sometimes and they keep it civil.

He doesn’t hear from Steve for a while, and the next time he sees him it’s from a distance, in passing. The man has the most roughed up face Eddie has ever seen, bruised and swollen in multiple areas, stitches and bandages all over. It’s really, concerning? completely metal, but alarming. This is the second time Eddie has seen the guy all beaten up like that. He knew that boys fight, but surely not that bad? As worried as he was, Eddie doesn’t approach him to ask questions, because they don’t know eachother like that. So he goes on about his day, and he doesn’t see Steve again after that for quite some time.

Then it’s summer, Eddie isn’t graduating again, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself over the break. The new mall has just opened up, and there’s a cool music store up on the second floor that he likes to visit sometimes with his band friends. And wouldn’t you know, working at the Scoops Ahoy located directly across from his favourite store, is Steve Harrington. The guy hasn’t come to Eddie for any weed since last year, and then there was that sighting where he looked like he’d just fallen face first into a flying fist or two, so it’s been a minute since Eddie’s seen him. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice surprise. He only goes into scoops once. He’s curious, okay? Sue him. And, he knows the girl who works with him, Robin. So he plays it off like he had no idea he’d see Steve there. And to his surprise, Steve actually acknowledges him. He doesn’t act like Eddie is a total stranger just because they’re not in school anymore. The interaction is quick, they make very casual conversation, Eddie says hi to Robin, grabs his milkshake and goes home. That’s all. He doesn’t go back, and he doesn’t really plan to. Steve’s nice, and he knows Eddie’s around if he needs to buy from him again, and that’s really as far as their relationship goes. That’s all it ever was. It’s been fun getting to know Steve Harrington a little bit better, even if it was just for a short time. Eddie liked having the chance to see in past the quaffed hair and pressed polo shirts to learn that Steve was really just a person under it all. He never thought he’d say it, but Harrington wasn’t so bad. It was a nice little eye opening experience for Eddie.

Eddie was ready to write off his little blips of interaction with Steve Harrington as a thing of the past, no hard feelings, and move on with his life. That is, until he gets a knock at his front door in the middle of the night afew days after the big mall fire. And it’s Steve on the other side. And he looks awful, his face is the worst Eddie’s ever seen it. And he wasn’t really knocking, more like pounding. He says he needs Eddie’s help.

What the fuck?

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[egophiliac]

so on the subject of the "Crowley is secretly Revaan/Laverne/Levin/please Twst give us his name" theory, I think my feelings are best summed up as "I don't really buy it, but it's funny". like, in all seriousness, I'm not opposed to it; I have enjoyed the writing in Twst so far and I'm willing to trust that whatever happens will, you know, make sense and not be terrible. but I'm just not really convinced by the current evidence! maybe that'll change once we learn more, we'll see!

with that said, may I propose a few alternate theories about the possible Crowley/Revaan connection:

[moyazaika]

hmm

[stellewriites]

butch price x reader

cw: smut, pussy eating, fingering, bush huffing, mean price, mechanic price, freak reader, inferred as inexperienced reader (as a treat!)

thank u as always to the cloisters for cheering this series on and yapping away about butches to me. here’s the fourth & final piece of the butch love letters quadrilogy

you huffed and puffed as you paced back and forth in front of the smoking open bonnet of your shitheap car.

you were cursing your friend for convincing you to get the cutesy car over the scuffed up ford you’d seen on the secondhand marketplace the same day. that tin can wouldn’t have broken down on you unexpectedly like this; stuck in the middle of nowhere as the sun set with no reception to call triple a or even your dad for a bit of engine advice.

you’d opened the hood as soon as you’d pulled over but you had no clue what was wrong with it, just that it probably shouldn’t be smoking or hissing like that. you’d tried to take a look at the canister that was spitting bubbles at the cap but had forgotten the golden rule of Don’t Touch, Hot after you’d been driving. your fingers still ached a little from the burn.

one hand on your hip, you held your phone up with the other like it would help at all as you tried to call for help again. the hazard lights from your car were starting to become brighter than the natural light and the streetlights were dim and far apart, not offering much in lieu of the setting sun.

you really didn’t want to be stranded there for the night.

you’d ignored the cars that had passed earlier when you’d first pulled over, not expecting to need an extra hand when your paid-for car support would be arriving presumably swiftly after you called. and then when you’d realised it wouldn’t be so easy, you’d hoped that simply letting your car cool off a little would fix the issue enough to get you further down the road at least.

you’d sat behind the wheel once more and felt your stomach drop when the engine rolled; a mean, dry grinding noise coming from it instead of the usual purr.

you’d tried once more before pulling your keys free and glueing yourself back to your phone as your last hope. you knew there was no way you’d be able to walk for help, especially not with how long you’d waited and how dark it was quickly becoming.

short of a miracle, you’d be stuck there until someone passed by in the morning and could maybe tow your little fiat to the nearest garage.

the rumble of a bike had your spiralling thoughts stopping in their tracks and your head snapping up towards the road. you felt your eyes widen as the rider pulled over, stopping a little ways behind you.

they climbed off the impressive bike easily, thick thighs nudging it to stay in place as they nudged the kickstand in place, and removed their helmet.

you wondered for a moment if you’d managed to hallucinate the woman stood before you - a miracle after all - with her close cropped hair glittering with greys spattered throughout. you stared shamelessly at the clustering of them at the shaved sides, but wondered at the way the low light caught the peppering of them through the messy, longer trim on the top.

“what’s the problem?” the woman asked, her voice firm but light.

you swallowed thickly and dragged your eyes down to her face, not that it was a difficult task to look at her. she was gorgeous and you felt your knees knock as you watched her come closer.

her sarcastically cocked eyebrow reminded you that you’d not yet answered her and you cleared your throat before shyly shrugging.

“it just started smoking so i pulled over. couldn’t tell where it was coming from but the engine won’t start,” you said and stepped out of the way so she could have a look. her lips thinned as she carefully dug around inside. you felt the need to fill the sudden silence and stepped back to her side, your hip pressed to the car but still giving her enough space so you weren’t touching. “it had been hissing for a while before.”

“hissing?” she asked as she looked up at you, her hands veering towards the left at your confirmation.

“mhmm. for maybe the last mile or two,” you said sheepishly.

“you kept driving?” she asked with a tinge of judgment. you folded your arms in front of you as you felt the look wash over you.

“no lights came on the dash,” you said a little feebly.

she blinked slowly, as though processing what you’d said before turning back to the car.

you had the distinct feeling that she thought you were an idiot. you dug your fingers into your arms as you watched uselessly. maybe you were.

“y’radiators gotten too hot with no water, cracked the water tank. it’s no wonder the engine wouldn’t start, y’wont be able to drive it ‘til it’s fixed, could set the engine on fire,” she said as she pointed out the things she was talking about. she stood back up straight and turned to you as your heart sank.

“fuck,” you swore heartily and clenched your eyes shut. that sounded expensive.

“i know a local garage that can sort it for you, decent rates,” she offered, her voice a touch softer than it had been so far. “i can give you a lift too.”

you opened your eyes just in time to watch her nod to her bike and start walking.

“oh, i don’t know if i should leave my car here…”

“we’ll call up a service to collect it as soon as we’re in range, won’t get any signal out here,” she said and pulled out a spare helmet from the back of her bike as if it was already decided, you were just late to the game. she pulled her own on with practised ease and held out the other towards you with a tilt of the head.

you darted back to your car and grabbed your bag before turning off the hazards, locking the door and finally joining her. you introduced yourself and waited for her to do the same.

“you can call me price,” she said brusquely, not returning your smile.

not the friendly introduction you’d been hoping for, but you were grateful for a name to put to the face all the same.

price didn’t hesitate before pushing the helmet onto your head, knocking your chin up with her finger in order to clip the strap in place. you stood frozen as she straddled her bike, lost for a moment at the unexpected touch and not seeing the impatient nod of her head to the space behind her.

“haven’t got all night, love. are you getting on or not?” price snapped, eyes flinty as they stared you down beneath the open visor.

“right, yes, sorry,” you stuttered, scrambling to her side. you paused at the height of the bike, the length of your summer dress not allowing for much movement before you’d inevitably flash your saviour; but at the memory of her sharp look, you tried to balance yourself and quickly lift your leg over the seat.

you were conscious of your size and weight behind her as soon as your arse hit the leather, shuffling back to give her room. you ran hot at the best of times and you couldn’t imagine she’d like a heater pressed along her back for the ride ahead given how testy she’d been already.

balancing behind her without clinging on was tricky however, with your toes just scraping the ground to keep you in place. even with your grip on her jacket at her waist you didn’t feel particularly sturdy.

you saw more than heard her sigh as her shoulders lifted then dropped in front of you and then suddenly her strong hands were on your thick thighs as she tugged you forward, slotting you so you were cradling her hips flush against your own.

“you need to hold on tight,” she said plainly and tugged your arms around her sturdy middle, tightening your grip further with a scoff when you automatically loosened it once she’d let go. you clenched your hands together above her belt and finally it seemed you’d done something right as she set off, kicking the stand up and revving, checking the empty road as she pulled out.

your dress fluttered in the wind; never mind flashing her as you’d climbed on, you would definitely be giving her a show now if she had the mind to look down and back at you. but you were too busy to fuss with the flighty material, instead concentrating on staying attached as she took corners sharply, dipping and weaving and tilting the bike so you’d have to clench your legs tighter and tighter against hers.

every time your knees felt like they could touch the asphalt, you hid your face in her back as best you could with the bulky helmet hindering your way, but you could still feel the way her shoulders shook with a laugh. you were inclined to pretend it was just the rumble of the engine, but you were more than aware of the difference in vibrations at your core and although both had you squirming, you knew they weren’t one and the same.

the ride was short - a blessing and a curse - and soon you were pulling up to a garage; lights turned off and clearly closed for the evening.

you felt disappointment bloom as you stumbled off the bike but price didn’t let it linger. unlocking the garage door and pressing a button on the attached fob to send the shutter lifting. she pushed her bike inside and you followed without needing to be told.

you stood near the entrance as you watched her walk around, clearly familiar with the workshop. you let your gaze drift, taking in the few cars parked inside the sprawling space, hoods down and doors presumably locked while they weren’t being worked on, tools packed away at their stations not necessarily neatly but clearly with care.

a hand on your lower back had you jumping and you turned to see price at your side, ushering you further in until you were sat on a tall stool next to a workbench.

you noticed as she walked away that she’d taken off her jacket and your eyes caught on a tattoo on the outside of her bicep, a labrys. simple in its design, and clear in its message.

you tried not to stare too hard, but your eyes kept snapping back to trace the lines that made up the two headed axe, especially as she moved and her bicep bulged. your throat felt suspiciously dry all of a sudden.

you played with the little orange carabiner attached to your bag strap, your keys jingling softly in the silence of the garage.

price was at the other side of the room, head leant against her raised shoulder to keep her phone in place as she spoke into the receiver and wrote something down at the same time. you saw her frown and roll her eyes and bit your lip, heat pooling below your gut. you watched as she said something indistinct before hanging up and calling a new number.

you felt yourself grow fidgety and sat on your hands to keep yourself still, the solid wood seat sobering with how unforgiving it was against the back of your hands as your palms and fingers gripped the underside of your sweaty thighs.

price laughed across the room and you tuned back in to her conversation. “l

“sure, i owe you one nik. see you in a few then,” she said and hung up her phone, slipping it into a pocket. she turned to you and her lips twitched when she found you already watching her. “found someone that’s going to tow it tonight, just need to wait here to lock it inside safe and sound before the lads can work on it in the morning. shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours before he turns up.”

“amazing, thank you,” you said, gratefully smiling at her. you swallowed and gathered what confidence you had before speaking, putting on your best flirty tone, “i don’t know how to repay you for all of this.”

price paused for a moment and watched you closely, seeming to look for something in your face to decide how she’d respond even as amusement danced in her eyes.

“i’m going to check over a few cars, make sure they haven’t been getting lazy with the work here while i’ve been away,” she said finally, ignoring your clumsy almost-proposition. you scrunched your face in annoyance and regret once she’d walked off towards the key cabinet facing away from you, wanting to bury your face in your hands as it flushed hot in embarrassment but realising they’d gone a little numb when you slipped one out from beneath you.

you could still feel it as you curled your fingers, but it was almost distant, secondary.

an idea came to the forefront of your mind. you peeked up at price as she bent over the open hood of a stranger’s car, checking the notes one of her coworkers had left from the day before and you were suddenly flooded with a deep yearning. tumultuous and red hot, it stirred between your legs as you remembered price’s firm hold on your thighs and wrists and the feeling of her settled between your legs as she laughed and ordered you around.

you breathed in shakily and let your tingling hand rest on your knee, trailing it up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh slowly as you kept your eyes on price. the last thing you needed was her catching you even if the touches could be considered innocent so far.

watching to make sure she didn’t suddenly turn around to catch you also mean you could see the shift of her muscles and weight beneath her vest; a sight you’d never say no to and one that only caused your breath to hitch as you continued the trail to the hem of your dress.

you stopped and bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to continue. it wasn’t like you’d be able to get yourself off in the middle of the garage so it would only further frustrate you and the possibility of getting caught and having to awkwardly face price the next day to get your car back after it was fixed was mortifying enough to still your trembling fingers.

“looks like you’re not the only one with a cracked water tank,” price spoke up from her spot in front of the car. her hands were on her hips before she dragged one over her short hair, scratching at the freshly shaved base of her neck. “i’ll check to see if we have a few in stock, might make it a quicker fix for you if johnny already ordered some in for this one.”

you nodded even though she didn’t look at you and you pulled your other hand out from beneath your arse. your right hand hand gained its feeling back so you dropped it in your lap; the left however was fighting pins and needles as you ran it over your stomach to your chest, squeezing lightly at your breast as shame and excitement and lust flooded through your system like lightning. your eyes slipped closed for a second and even though it felt nothing like price’s confident, sturdy grip from earlier, you couldn’t help but picture it to be her as you grazed your thumb over your nipple with a firmer pressure.

“we’ve got a spare one in stock, so we just need to double check it’ll fit, but otherwise it should be good to go tomorrow unless something else comes up when gaz checks it over.” price’s voice jolted you out of your reverie too soon, having not heard her re-enter the room, and your hand flew down to join your other in your lap, your elbow smacking back harshly against the worktop and echoing in the large empty area.

price raised her eyebrows at you, her jaw falling slack for a moment, as she watched you try to hide your deep wince of pain. a second later she started to walk over to you.

her pale blue eyes were piercing as she kept eye contact with you. “you alright?”

“yep, fine. totally ok. uhm, why?” you tried to play it off casually, landing so far from nonchalant it had price’s worry slipping off her face.

her smirk grew. “y’just smacked your elbow so hard i could hear the bone rattle.”

“oh, sorry?” you apologised uselessly.

“no need, love,” she dismissed your apology quickly, eyes still lasered in on you. “it’s just… you’re looking a little hot and bothered.”

the mean tilt to her smirk didn’t help and you felt yourself fluster and sweat anew under her pinning gaze.

she took a step closer, reaching one hand out to skim across the bare skin of your leg, unknowingly tracing the same path your hand had before. your legs turned to jelly beneath her touch in a way they didn’t under your own and seemed to naturally fall open at the slightest pressure as she urged you to make room for her to step between them.

her fingers’ path stopped at the hem of your dress before she started to bunch it up, letting the material gather at her knuckles as the tips of her finger disappeared beneath while she revealed more soft skin to her greedy gaze.

“were y’committing the view to memory for when you get home and can get your hands on whatever little toy gets you off quickest?” she asked rhetorically, her tone light but words pointed as she watched for your reaction.

you bit back a gasp.

“i can give you what you want,” she offered, voice sweet and soft once more. enticing. “what you need. you don’t have to squeeze your thighs tight for a little relief as you watch me work.”

you flushed hot at the reveal that she’d noticed you all along and shivered as her fluttering touch continued its agonisingly slow path, diverting up to your hips and away from your drooling pussy at the last second. you whimpered.

“would you like that?”

you nodded eagerly, eyes hooded and mouth panting as you watched her hands at their stand still, your panties revealed with your dress hiked up so far, taut where it was caught beneath your arse. you lifted your head to stare at her chest in front of you and then looked up into her flinty eyes, nodding again dumbly. price tutted and you felt your clit throb.

“gotta hear the words, love.”

you flushed hot, head to toe, and mumbled a shy, “i’d like that.”

“mm what was that?” she asked, cocking her head and running her hands, palm flat, back down your legs to your knees, squeezing.

“i want you to touch me,” you said louder, bashful but growing desperate. “please?” you added belatedly.

“‘please’? so polite, love. bet you always get what you want speaking like that, looking like this.”

your eyes had begun to water, glistening as frustration and need overwhelmed you; you shook your head looking up at her.

“never— never done anything like this,” you admitted.

price laughed, tickled by your answer.

“oh, you don’t fuck your mechanic usually?” she asked, pretending to be shocked. “he must not be doing a good enough job on your little kia.”

you hummed, pitchy and unconvincing, eyes growing shifty and giving away that you meant you didn’t do any of it in general. that you weren’t exactly practiced. and price picked up on that immediately.

“oh.” she smiled meanly. “that’s not it, is it? no, i bet he’s floundering for your attention, but you’re just too nervous to give him what he wants, ey? don’t want your first time to be in a dirty garage, in the back seat of some other prick’s car while your mechanic fumbles around in your knickers.”

she’d bent down low to run her lips along your neck, kissing along your neck and leaving a delciate wet trail as she kitten licked across your racing pulse. you gasped when you felt her fingers finally trail over your cunt, the thin material of your panties barely hindering the electric feel of her touch before she pulled at the band and let it snap back against your skin.

“but i think getting dirty is part of the appeal for a girl like you, pretty as you are. you want to be manhandled and marked and ruined,” she whispered hotly, her breath tickling your neck. “nahh, must be that you’re just not interested in what’s been on offer before, hm?”

“he’s nice enough,” you admitted, clinging onto price’s shoulders, “but…”

“—but he’s not what you want,” she finished for you, raising her head from your neck to kiss along your cheek and hovering over your lips. “none of them are, are they? you want something else entirely.”

you leant forward to close the gap, hoping to finally get a taste of her but she pulled back. you chased her lips until she was stood back up straight, looming over you as embarrassment flooded through you again, but pleasantly.

“bet you’ve never been touched before; never had this pretty pussy licked open, spat on.” you felt your chest heave as she spoke bluntly, looking down at you, her hips began to subtly grind against yours. “have you ever even cum on someone else’s fingers?”

“i have,” you huffed at her assessment of you, but she only laughed at your petulant tone.

“no, you haven’t,” she insisted to further wind you up. “bet you’ve not even kissed another woman.”

your breath stuttered as she focused on your lips, licking her own.

“i want to kiss you,” you said bravely.

“that’s all you had to say.”

she dipped low, hands on the worktop either side of you, and licked her way past your gasping lips. you felt overwhelmed and fully explored as the tip of her tongue flicked at yours, saliva building in your mouth as you moaned wantonly and soaked up her quiet grunts in return. she tugged you up onto your feet and in between wet kisses and tight squeezes to your soft hips she led you towards her office in the back.

you made it to her desk with minimal tripping and no bumps on your way despite not having detached to see the way there. instead you’d clung on and trusted she wouldn’t lead you into a wall or car accidentally as she hurriedly felt up your sides to your breasts.

she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the desk and plucked at one of your nipples through the thin dress with a teasing grin.

“feel better than your own hand?” she asked and dropped to her knees before you could answer.

with rough movements price hiked up your dress to reveal your panties and leant forward without hesitation to latch on to your clit through the thin cotton, eager to get you squealing.

she laughed at the restless twitch of your hips in her hands and turned her head to snicker into the fold of your thigh and groin.

“you’re more fun than i thought a virgin would be,” she goaded, eyes heavy as they gazed up at you. you fell for the bait, scoffing down at her with a pout once more as your hand rose to her short hair and yanked what your could grasp to lead her back towards your drooling cunt. you winced when her teeth clashed against your core as she grinned into your panties, endlessly amused by your brash urges hidden behind a forced shy politeness.

price reached up and tugged the material aside to lick a broad stripe up your slit, humming low at your taste and the building slick that had been steadily leaking since she’d first frowned down at you in condescension in front of your car.

“needy an’ desperate,” she huffed before focusing back on task, kitten licking at your clit as you gasped and whined. it felt like you were on fire and you couldn’t help but push up onto her tongue with jerky little thrusts when she dipped low to your hole, desperate for her to keep berating and humiliating you.

she pulled back with a wet suck and a gasp, pushing two fingers into you with no resistance as she caught her breath and licked your arousal off her lips.

she stared up at you as you shook on her fingers, practically doing all the work as you rode her hand until she decided the pace wasn’t good enough and picked up where she’d let you take over.

“fucking hell,” she whispered and nipped at the fat of your thigh. you clenched down on her fingers with a groan.

“please, please, please,” you begged airily. price smiled as she looked you over, head to toe, before nodding benevolently and dipping down to lavish your clit with attention once more.

you felt your orgasm begin to peak and wave over you with a loud, unashamed moan as she curled her fingers just right inside you, the awkward angle of her wrist doing nothing to slow her down as she prolonged your pleasure until you slumped back. spent and exhausted.

“better than your own hand?” she asked cheekily once more and you nodded dazedly.

“uh huh,” you said, remembering she liked verbal answers, and lifted a tired thumbs up at her.

she snorted and took a hold of it, pulling you up just enough to get your hand down the front of her open jeans and into her own soaked underwear.

you moaned as she guided you to slip inside and you clenched your thighs around her as if it was your own pleasure as you slowly sunk in deep. price groaned low and long, curling over you and humping against the heel of your hand where it pressed against her clit.

you weren’t as confident or practiced in your movements from this angle but you did you best to pull out those dazed moans and hitched breaths from price when you moved your fingers and your palm a certain way, repeating until you got the reaction you wanted oh so desperately from her.

price was panting into your neck after a few minutes, the skin between you clammy and you echoed her moans back to her without thought.

“w-warm, so tight,” you stuttered into her ear as you felt her clench around your fingers, nearing her own orgasm as slick ran down past the webbing of your fingers.

your enthusiasm turned price on like nothing else and she shuddered at the next prod and rub of your fingers deep inside of her.

“fucking hell, love,” she swore breathlessly, a grin tugging at her lips as she pulled back to look at your fucked our expression. “got you pussy drunk in under ten minutes and we’ve not even fucked yet. that’s a record even f’me.”

you crooked your fingers and felt a deep satisfaction when price’s jaw dropped on a silent moan, eyelashes fluttering down at you.

you watched her in awe; the way her crows feet became pronounced as her eyes squinted and her brows pulled in in pleasure, the shape of her pretty parted lips as she trembled in your hands.

“i wanna taste,” you blurted out, voice cracking with how dry your throat had become.

you struggled to free your hand and push price back a step as she grumbled, but you got enough space to hop down off the desk and drop to your knees in front of her. you yanked at her jeans without fanfare, wiggled the waistband and her underwear down to her knees before going wide-eyed at the sight of her thick bush.

feeling the soft curls against your fingers was one thing…

you leant in with abandon and pressed your nose in tight, huffing open-mouthed against her mound. soaking in the sweat, slick scent of her and moaning weakly into the damp curls.

“jesus fucking christ.” price tipped her head back and silently thanked whoever was listening for the enthusiastic little freak she had at her feet. she didn’t deserve you, but she wasn’t going to pass up this golden opportunity either.

your hot breath had her thighs twitching where you rested your hands over her pants to keep her still, but her patience ran thin.

“get to it then, love.”

you flicked your eyes up to look at her and she rested one hand on the back of your head, controlling and reassuring.

you started with little kitten licks, needing coaxing ever so into loosening your restraint despite the reckless way you’d just face planted her pussy moments prior. a firm hand or a sharp word would have you set right, you knew, so you continued as you were, trying to remember what you’d liked and copying it.

price didnt wait to see if you’d warm up on your own and used her other hand to tug at your jaw, prising your mouth open further and encouraging your tongue to wag out.

“tongue,” she ordered brusquely before grinding against your face. you got with the program and pointed your tongue so it slipped inside easier, gripping onto price’s arse and thighs as she rode you with little concern for your breathing.

you sucked and hummed against her, lapping at what you could reach when she adjusted her angle before continuing to use you. your nose pressed tight to her mound and caught on her clit on every other thrust up until price was moaning into the air above you, her orgasm quickly rising.

she pulled back and held you away with one hand while the other gave a few hard flicks to her clit. she got off with a broken moan, looking at your wet, messy face; arguably more fucked out than her own. her eyes caught on the hand you’d dropped to finger at your clenching hole again and she groaned, low and amused. fond.

with a breathless laugh, she tugged up her waistband back to her hips but left the jeans unzipped. she pushed her boot between your spread knees, beneath your hips and pushed down on your shoulders until you were resting over the tilted toe of her boot.

you were quick to get the idea and pulled your fingers free, thrusting to catch your clit against the unforgiving material until you came a second time, leaving a thick shine along her shoe when she pulled it back.

you panted against her hip, forehead resting against her just above her open waistband as you caught your breath with a giddy smile. you nibbled and sucked at her stomach as she pet the back of your head.

“don’t usually let girls mark me,” she said softly under her breath as she watched you. she rubbed at one of the the budding red marks you’d left near her zipper. “but I’m quite fond of you after that little performance. might keep ya.”

butch 141 masterlist

moodboard masterlist

[hoarder-of-dragons]

What we (or atleast I) keep forgetting about the Frankenstan AU is that, Ford taking care of the dead body. No, not the stitching or the temperature regulation but imagine tenderly scrubbing the grime of his skin, washing his hair, do you think he combs it and remembers how he used to look like and he is so tempted to "form" the person in front of him to the kid he remembers from his past and discovering his scars?

Meanwhile Ghost Stan can't make himself look at Ford taking care of his body like a hospital patient he should just die he did die why can't he leave why won't he die he is useless much less deserving of this care