#this had NO right to be so romantic. what in the goddamn hell!!!

[markantonys]

SAS ROGUE HEROES | 1x03

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[tgcg]

candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 4

Summary: After their reunion at the Atomic Wrangler, Cooper decides that he wants more than just a quickie out of his wandering trader.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Drug use and Alcohol. Fluff and Smut. Little longer than the other ones ❤️

DHGP Masterlist

Cooper sits on the side of the bed, inhaler in hand as he stares down at the chem. You are still asleep behind him, body tangled in the sheets, exhausted after the exciting reunion between the two of you. You had been a breath of fresh air for the ghoul, especially after finding out the truth behind the fate of his family, and then Lucy, the vaultie, had left him too. Gone back home to her vault to save them from those goddamn Bud's Buds.

Cooper had elected to stay in Vegas. He likes the city, and the booze was cheap, and the chems were even cheaper if you knew where to get them. However, now that the ghoul was borderline sober, and with you by his side, Cooper realized that he'd had something to look forward to. To live for again. You.

Every time the two of you had crossed paths, you never failed to send the ghoul's black heart racing. You were a wastelander through and through, but you were good, and Cooper didn't want to let that go. No. He would hold on tight, and nothing in heaven or hell would get him to let you go.

First thing first, however, was to show you that he was serious and that he cared for you beyond a quick fuck and drug transactions. Cooper turned in the bed and leaned over you, tucking his knuckle under your chin and kissing you until you woke up. A soft sigh escaped you when the ghoul pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see him above you.

"Well, that's one way to wake a girl up," you murmur, and shift to your back, opening your arms so that Cooper can fall against your chest, his face pressed in the crook of your neck. You hum softly and press a kiss to his bald head, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

Cooper buries himself against you, shoving his arms under you so that he can hold you close. He listens to your heartbeat, and the sound of content he makes sounds more like a cat purr than anything else. He debates with himself before deciding to hell with it.

"Let me take you out. On a proper date," He began, and the more he spoke, the more he felt like his old self, Cooper Howard, before the end of the world, "You deserve it after everything you've done for me."

You eyed him, though your lips were already turning up at the idea. Who knew your ghoul was such a romantic? You tilt your head to the side, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

Cooper rises to his elbow and admires how your hair halos around your face. You are beautiful, even sleepy-eyed, and dressed in nothing but your panties.

"We're in Vegas, Baby. Let's make the most of it."

~~~~~

Mick and Ralph's had a surprising number of preserved prewar clothing, and you picked through the dresses looking for the perfect fit. You spotted a cute, blue number that would hug you in all the right places and billow out at the waist. Mick even had a cute pair of kitten heels that he gave you on the house.

Cooper had also done some digging around and conveniently found one of his old set costumes. The colors were faded, but they looked brand new compared to the get-up he always wore. Dressed to impress, the ghoul admired himself in the cracked mirror. If you ignored the obvious, Cooper looked like he'd just come off set of A Man and His Dog.

He wold whistles when you step out of the back room, and even though you're custom to his flirty behavior, you still blush bright and give Cooper a tiny grin. You've never had an opportunity to wear something so nice before, and it made you feel different, but not in a bad way.

"Well, look at you, Darlin'. All dressed up and beautiful for little ol' me," He crooned and snagged your hand, spinning you in a slow circle so that he could admire you from all angles. You give him a smile so full of fond amusement that Cooper’s heart stutters in his chest.

"Only for you, Cowpoke," you say and curl your hand behind his head to tug him down for a quick kiss that Cooper melts into.

After paying Mick and Ralph, Cooper escorts you to the gate of the Strip where the securitrons let the two of you by after flashing the passports you'd paid the shop owners for. Inside, the flashing neon lights made you squint, and you did your best to take it all in at once.

"A lot's changed since the last time I've been here," Cooper comments and casts his gaze around. It's been over two hundred years, but the Vegas Strip still felt the same. The two of you bypass Gomorrah and the Ultra Lux, and instead, head for the Tops where a man with blonde, slicked-back hair greets them with a suave grin.

"Hey, hey cats. My name is Swank. Welcome to the Tops Casino. The floor is open, and Tommy's got some real class acts tonight on stage if you're interested."

The two of you hand over any weapons that couldn't be concealed and head upstairs to the theater. A live band is playing on stage, and a place has been cleared in the middle of the room for dancing. Cooper leads you to a corner booth and drops to kiss your brow before he lopes off to order you both a drink.

From there, the night goes off without a hitch. The two of you drink til you feel tipsy and brazen enough to tug the ghoul out to the dance floor where Cooper upstages you and everyone else there. He twirls and dips you, leaving you a giggling mess and eyes only for him.

At some point, Cooper gets the grand idea to spend some caps on some chips, and you stand beside him as he cleans the blackjack table, coming away with more chips that you have to help him carry back to the exchange desk. The two of you eventually stumble out of the Tops and mosied back down the road to Gomorrah.

Their weapons are confiscated once more, and Cooper pays the receptionist for a hotel room for later on. He doubted that they would be sober enough to leave this place later on.

His hunch was right hours later when the two of you stumbled to the elevator. Coop's arm is tight around your waist, holding you close to keep you from tipping over. You cling to him, giggling as you wind your arms around his neck, and he catches your eyes, glassy from the jet that one of the dancers had given you.

"Your eyes are so pretty, ya know that?" You slur, and Cooper snickers as he leads you out of the elevator and down the hall to the room he'd rented. He's not nearly as gone as you, but he chalks that up to being used to the substance abuse.

You plop on the bed and reach back for the zipper of your dress, feeling too constricted in the blue fabric, and get stuck with it halfway off. Cooper laughs at you and comes to help, tugging the dress away and tossing it behind him before he pounces.

His lips meet yours in a slow kiss, a gentle give and take that turns heated when you bite his lip hard enough to hurt. You sooth it with your tongue, and groan when Cooper curls his own around the slippery muscle, the kiss wet and sloppy. He looms over you, keeping himself propped up with his elbow, while his other hand grips your waist, and rocks his hips down.

Cooper groans into the kiss when his clothed cock meets the heat between your thighs. You buck against him, whining into the kiss and demanding he take his damn pants off already.

"Patience, young grasshopper," Cooper rumbles above you and slides off the bed to button his shirt and jeans. He folds them almost reverently before he turns back to the bed and crawls on top of you, "Great things come to those who wait."

You scoff at him, though your lips are tilted up in amusement, "I've been waiting forever, Coop."

Your legs fall open and wrap around his waist. You are so wet that the ghoul can see slick glistening in the low light of the room where it clings to your puffy folds. He swallows harshly when you reach down and spread them, giving him an excellent view of your clit and twitching hole.

"Now I want you to fuck me like you mean it."

Cooper doesn't need to be told twice and spits in his hand before wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself twice before he lines up and sinks down to his balls. Your cunt throbs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, and he falls forward, hips humping forward as you cling to him.

Coop fucks you like it's his last day on Earth. He shifts to his knees, and his cock slips even further, pressing against something inside you that makes stars shatter. You curse loudly, Cooper’s name falling from your lips like a mantra as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and bends you over. The new position makes it hard to breathe, but all you want is more.

"'M close," Cooper grunts in your ear, and you lock your knees around his head, meeting him thrust for thrust as you work for your release. He unlocks his jaw and bites into the hollow of your throat. The pain is enough to send you over the edge, your pussy fluttering and gushing around the ghoul's cock.

"Ah-fuck," He snarls and follows you right over the edge, pumping you full of seed until it dribbled out from your stuffed cunt. He finds your lips kissing you as he rides out his orgasm, hips jerking when you tighten around him.

Cooper lays there, breathing you in and curling his arms tight around your waist. He is far too tired to move, and you don't seem to mind the extra weight with how tightly you hold him back. The ghoul feels at peace as if a part of his life he'd been missing has slotted back into place. He raises his head just enough to catch your eyes, and you reward him with an adoration-filled smile, but it's your words that cause his heart to explode like an atomic bomb.

"I love you."

You don't expect Cooper to pull you in for another kiss, this one soft and slow. He rests his brow against yours and wonders how he ever made it this far without you.

"I love you, too."

Holy moly, that got way sweeter than I intended. I hope you enjoyed it!❤️

[freedomfireflies]

404*

Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.

And you can’t fucking stand each other.

Word Count: 2.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.

He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did. And then I came back.”

You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”

“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”

Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”

“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”

“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”

“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”

“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”

“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”

He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”

“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”

Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”

“I did, but I’m done now.”

“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”

“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”

“No thanks.”

Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”

“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”

“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”

You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”

He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”

“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”

He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”

He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”

“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”

His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”

“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”

His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”

“Poor girl.”

“Yeah? What about poor me?”

“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”

His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”

“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”

“Hear it all the time with you.”

“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.

Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.

He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.

His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.

It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.

His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.

Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.

You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.

He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”

Your lashes flutter shut.

“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”

Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.

“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”

He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”

With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.

“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”

You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.

He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else. 

“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”

You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.

“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”

You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”

He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”

“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”

“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”

You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock. 

You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.

He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.

You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.

Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.

You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”

He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”

And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.

The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.

“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”

“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek. 

“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”

He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.

“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.

“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”

“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”

You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.

The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.

Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.

But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.

In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.

Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.

“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”

You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so. 

“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.

Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.

But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.

And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.

“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”

He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.

“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”

You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.

“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”

You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.

“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”

It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.

He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.

He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.

It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up. 

He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.

He smirks.

Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same. 

Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.

“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”

Next Part:

~ Off the Shelf* (pt. 2)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

[mythbringer-mayhem]

GODDAMNIT

man, I was just scrolling and now I'm a goddamn Raidioapple shipper what the FUCK

Ok ok-

And now I'm going to elaborate just because.

I was expecting someone out there to ship Lucifer and Alastor the second I heard Hell's Greatest Dad. I mean- two people singing/arguing over being father figures? Sounds gay to me /pos. The internet sure does love it's enemies to lovers (me included. I'm hopless lmao.)

BUT. I have specifics for this ship.

I hate it when people just look at Alastor's aromanticism/asexuallity and just go "nah. I'm just gonna do it anyways." I used to headcanon Alastor as complete aroace in the sense that he just can't feel that way for someone (this is not meant to sound like "oh he can't love anyone :( he's incapable" I mean specifically a romantic/sexual relationship.) Then fucking short ass king of hell arrives, and Alastor just IMMEDIATELY chooses violence.

I didn't think much of that besides "oh that's a little interesting," and then I stumbled across Radioapple and had to take a double take. My brain needed to figure out how that would work, like how it would start, flourish, ineract, yadda yadda-

.....so now I consider Alastor Demiromantic-

(I'm still goddamn writing jeez-)

Read on if you like random people looking wayyyyyy too much into fictional characters.

Headcanon timeeeeeeeee

When Lucifer and Alastor first meet, Alastor is surprised Lucifer doesn't know who he is. Up to this point, everyone knows about the terrifying radio demon, so it must be a little weird for someone to be completely ignorant to his existence. Especially when that person should probably know the ins and outs of what's going on- ....because he's the fucking king of hell.

This is something new for Alastor. It made him curious. When you're curious, you try to learn more right? So, Alastor starts pushing Lucifer's buttons, seeing how he reacts. On Lucifer's end, Alastor's just being a smug asshole. However his true intentions are information on the esteemed oh-so-powerful king of hell. Maybe Alastor doesn't quite know where this fascination comes from, but regardless he wants to learn more. I can picture him progressively bothering Lucifer more and more (this is his unique way of getting to know him semi-discreetly)

As well as figuring out what ticks him off, Alastor would also probably passively learn things Lucifer likes. For instance, he finds out what Lucifer's favorite alcoholic drink is or something- bare with me- Let’s say Lucifer has a rough day, and it's very clear to everyone in the hotel. While he's frustrated in his own room, he hears a knock at the door. Answering it, he finds his aforementioned favorite drink. At this point, he wouldn't know who left it. But after a while, he'd be able to figure out it's Alastor through process of elimination. (This is inspired by a comic I saw! :))

Now we've got Alastor trying to discreetly be kind to Lucifer, and Lucifer is aware without his knowledge. And Lucifer would call him out for it lmao. Slowly, they'd start acting friendlier towards each other. It would take a long, long time though. The slowest slow burn of them all. They'd hang out more, do things, kick angel ass, have friendly banter, do stuff with Charlie. Untill Alastor finally realizes that he might have a crush on Lucifer. Though, I feel he'd take a while to fully figure that out, do some soul searching, maybe go to Rosie for advice.

Then they'd confess. Or they wouldn't lol. I can totally see them going on what is essentially a date, even though they just consider it "hanging out". It would be a quiet relationship. Something you'd miss if you aren't looking for it, but it is there. They both just need someone they can rest with in my opinion.

These ideas are probably sporadic and nonsensical- but I ✨️don't care✨️ I just needed to rant about the old timey deer man and the short depressed apple gremlin.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon. 

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick- 

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense. 

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino? 

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started. 

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.  

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense. 

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check. 

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night. 

Almost there... 

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture. 

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him. 

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer. 

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile. 

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips. 

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm. 

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love. 

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.  

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws. 

“Vox...?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state. 

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality. 

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.” 

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”  

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...” 

 A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment. 

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once. 

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty. 

No notes. No texts. No documents. 

Nothing. 

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!? 

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?” 

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was... 

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back. 

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?” 

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,” 

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him. 

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown. 

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.  

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him. 

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work. 

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”  

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”  

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph. 

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”  

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you. 

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.  

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.  

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.” 

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout. 

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!” 

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?” 

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.  

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote. 

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.   

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen. 

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.  

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”  

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”  

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” 

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk. 

“And I’m a dork?” 

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours. 

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”  

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible. 

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!” 

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck. 

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him. 

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you. 

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check. 

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him. 

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves. 

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls. 

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape. 

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world. 

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.” 

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . . 

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

[ophelia-writes-fics]

hold me close and hold me fast [alec hardy x reader]

It's winter in Broadchurch, and you've noticed a habit of Alec's.

Tags: GN!reader, fluff, romantic fluff, established relationship

Word Count: ~900

TWs/CWs: none, this is pure self-indulgent fluff :)

It was another frigid Broadchurch winter. The entire town had been covered in a blanket of snow and ice that was six inches thick and refusing to let up anytime soon. But despite the endless bad weather, life didn’t stop, so every morning you went to work as usual, and Alec went to the police station. He worked long, exhausting hours, and he was usually either gone before you woke up or out until after you went to bed.

You always knew exactly when he came home on late nights, though. Because if Alec was one thing, it was a goddamn stubborn bastard, and he was a stubborn bastard who refused to wear gloves, a scarf, or a hat in the winter. 

No matter how much you pestered him about it, no matter how you insisted he’d get cold, he would swear up and down that a coat was enough and he “didn’t need all that stuff”. And yet, every single night that winter, he’d come home, change into pajamas, climb into bed with you, and put his freezing cold hands under your shirt to warm them up. 

It would have annoyed the hell out of you, but when you finally confronted him about it, he looked so taken aback that you realized he’d had no idea he was doing it. Still, he’d apologized, and from then on, every time he came in late, he’d be absolutely sure that his hands were kept outside of your clothes. 

That is, while he was awake. 

After another few nights of being woken up by freezing hands clutching your chest, you quickly came to a conclusion: whether he wanted to or not, Alec would subconsciously seek out your body heat to warm himself up the moment he drifted off to sleep. 

As the weather got colder and colder, you woke up dozens of times to Alec holding you close like you were a teddy bear - every limb wrapped around you, ice-cold hands under your shirt, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It didn’t even bother you anymore. It was adorable, honestly. You knew he’d get all prickly and deny it if you told him, but he really was such a sweetheart, even in his sleep. The peaceful look on his face as he cuddled you made your heart melt every damn time, and no amount of cold hands could compare to how much you loved seeing him happy. 

Still, you really wished he would wear some damn gloves once in a while; if not for you, then to avoid getting frostbite when it was below zero outside. So, that winter, you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

You took your knitting bag everywhere you went, working on your projects whenever you had downtime, making sure Alec never saw what you were working on. Within a couple of weeks, you had a hat, a thick scarf, and a pair of mittens all completed, so you decided on a plan: on your day off, you’d wait until Alec left for work, then wrap the gift and meet him down at the police station to surprise him. And that was exactly what you did. 

---

“Darlin’, what’s goin’ on? What’re you doing here?” A worried look crossed Alec’s face as he met you at the door. 

“No, everything’s all right! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you reassured him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “I brought you a gift and figured I’d surprise you, that’s all!” 

You handed him the small parcel and watched with anticipation as he opened it, revealing the multicolored pile of warm winter clothes. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, a bit nervously. 

He looked up at you, a shocked smile on his face. “Did you make all this?” 

You nodded, and before you knew it, Alec was at your side, embracing you so tightly your feet left the ground for a moment. 

“They’re beautiful, love,” Alec murmured, still smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

Your heart fluttered with pride. 

---

The next morning, you were at the breakfast table when Alec was leaving for work. Something was different this morning, however. 

“Hmm, someone seems to be dressed rather warmly today,” you teased gently. “Whatever happened to ‘Oh, I just need a coat, darling, I’ll be fine without a hat or a scarf or gloves’?”

He gave you a playful glance of warning, then smiled. “Well, someone put a lot of effort into making sure I’ll be warm, and it’d be a shame to let all that beautiful work go to waste, hmm?” He leaned in and caressed your cheek as he kissed you goodbye, whispered a quick ‘I love you’, then he was gone. 

---

As the winter wore on, it was much the same as all the winters before it, except two things had changed. 

One, Alec never left the house without the winter clothes you’d made him. He treasured them, and you could always tell - he handled them with so much care, folding them gently every night when he got home and running a loving hand over them every now and then when he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

And two, Alec never came home with freezing cold hands again. 

And you were absolutely delighted to find out that even when he kept warm during the day, he still held you close in his sleep, every single night.

A/N: thank you for reading! i know this is a shorter one and it's a bit silly. honestly, i really just wanted to give alec some love, he's such a sweetheart and the poor thing needs a break lmao. i'll be back soon with some smut! as always, feel free to like/rb/comment/whatever else, and my requests are always open! :)

🍓 this fic's title is from the english version of 'la vie en rose' 🍓

[issa-pheonyx]

Since you did goth yan what if you did a twist on that and did goth reader ?? 😵‍💫

Could be paired with any character but im imagining re2 leon being both really attracted to but also really scared of the reader

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗮 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱! 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗵!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻. 𝗦𝗼, 𝗹𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻~👀🖤

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║��║▌║█│▌

-Okay, to start off with people (friends and his coworkers at the department) would find it both strange, yet curious based on witnessing you guys standing together. The rookie with a goth? Now way-oh you were not joking. How the hell was he able to even talk to someone so highly different?

-Now crushing on you may have been the way you were attractively intimidating from the looks seeing how he never met someone like yourself in his life. Of course, there are trolls who have talk shit on the stereotypes which you were not phased by it (as you should💅🏽) , however the rookie cop was not having it, defending you like a guarded puppy to you

-He sees you that you are really talented and protective of your creativity amongst the arts, having strengths of independence and respect for all aesthetics even for being called a 'weirdo' for being goth, etc. He would praise and worship you for having such a unique style and do not let anyone get to you, because those who are basic or just have no taste would usually copy off or project themselves onto you, because you happily and lovingly express yourself

-As more to discuss on the being scared of you part, yes, not going to lie he was shitting bricks when he made the first move. Lets say a scenario of you being involved in a scene saving someone's life who had a knife, but you were not afraid and had the courage to fight off the bastard and wield a pocket knife like it's nothing. He thought you were scary cause how did you get him pinned and second of all what the fuck was the knife doing against his neck you could just threw it aside until the cops came

-So, yes he is scared of you cause of the 'the more you fuck around, the more you're going to find out' energy you hold and having the biggest dick energy cause goddamn you is the shit and you can pull your own weight. Sure, he had stalked caught you intruding an abandoned cathedral, because it looked so pretty outside you just want to see inside so badly. This was a good excuse for him to talk to you more and more as you both walked around, you're taking pictures and videos here and there, and he sticks around you like a damn puppy smiling as you tell him more about your style cause he is genuinely curious

-You and him developed a genuine friendship since you were usually just known as the goth instead of you as a person with other individuals/groups. Leon really wanted to get to know you more and more, but the issue is there are people who will find ways to pick on you both. Leon as the rookie cop and you as the goth crush. People would laugh at the thought of him taking a liking of you cause again you guys are opposites

-Thankfully, you would shut them down with respect, maturity, and boldness in which they immediately have their tail between their legs. Leon would try to be light and taken jokingly on their statements (even when they're genuinely rude) which pisses you off, because hey Leon that wasn't a joke they are actually being assholes. So, I guess right then and there the platonic bond turned to a romantic one-developing feelings for you, because you not only express your love and creativity for your gothic aesthetic, but more as a human being who respects those who deserve it and calls out those who are undeserving of it

-You were also developing feelings for Leon too. In denial at first thinking it could be a dumb crush and you will get over with it. But, no it was real, because he sticks with you again like a damn pup you know the routine and defends you whenever someone disrespects or criticize you. He knows you. Everything about you and knows whatever bullshit they're saying is not true. You always had defend other people who you gave so much respect only to be betrayed, because you will be always the weirdo to them. Not as (Y/N)....

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

[shares-a-vest]

Part 1

"Oh my god!" Eddie exclaims, "The gas station is closed!"

"What?" Steve leans forward, squinting out through the front windshield.

"Can you not see that it is?" Eddie asks, his voice laced with sheer panic, "Jesus Christ, you need a pair of glasses," he reaches for the steering wheel, "Pull over. I'll drive."

"Get off!" Steve shrieks, elbowing him out of the way.

The car momentarily swerves to the centre line but thankfully, there are no cars about – the world's most obvious sign that the gas station is indeed, closed.

He purses his lips as he slows the car to a crawl as they move through the crossroad and past Ernie's, a cheap gas station that is the go-to place for scoring some booze without being carded and procuring condoms without judgment.

He has no idea why the gas station would be closed but, considering the universe hasn't exactly been on their side today, Steve checks his mirrors and turns the Beemer around, resigned to an afternoon of everything but sex.

"Wait!" Eddie says, slapping him on the shoulder, the chain of his leather jacket tinkling with each motion.

Steve looks over and they both nod at the same time.

"Melvad's."

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Steve," Eddie spits through gritted teeth.

"No."

"Stevie!"

"Dude, you go."

"Steve..." Eddie steps in front of him and raises his hand, balling up his fist with frustration – he even throws in a nose scrunch in an attempt to make his point, "After everything that has happened over the past six months, there is no way in hell I am walking up to that pharmacy counter and buying a box of condoms in full view of half of Hawkins' housewives."

Steve folds his arms, "And I'm not buying condoms right in front of Claudia Henderson!"

He glances at the woman browsing three aisles over, terrified she will soon feel her ears burning and look up from the overpriced tomatoes.

Eddie scoffs, "Oh please, everyone knows you saunter that tight ass all over town. Anyway, I'm sure she'll find it 'so responsible' you use protection."

He uses air quotations and rolls his eyes with such condescension that Steve can't help but reach forward to snatch at his boyfriend's ringless hand and squeeze.

"Come on," he says, tugging him back in the direction of the entrance – they need to get a move on before anyone sees them.

He's sure Dustin will be lurking somewhere, ready to pounce and ask questions and be a goddamn nightmare and do everything he possibly can to make their afternoon even worse.

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Forget it," Eddie sighs as he slams his car door shut.

Steve is about to chide him but Eddie's shoulders slump and he sucks back a sniffle.

"What's wrong?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"Let's just..." Eddie begins, looking forlornly out at the street, "I dunno – go back to your castle and I'll suck you off, or some shit."

"Wow, such a romantic," Steve quips as he fires up the car, feeling a flush creep up his neck nonetheless.

Eddie remains silent, flitting between huffing and sighing as he peels out and heads down the street, ready to scour the town in search of a solution.

The sun is setting now. A warm afternoon perfect for ahem, fucking one's boyfriend for the first time gone – wasted!

"What if I just..." Steve begins, distracted by the large sign showcasing several stores one street over from Melvad's, "I could just ask someone to buy them for us?"

He blinks up at the green and orange Family Video sign and smiles.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, sinking in his seat.

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Absolutely not."

"But Rob!"

"This is why you called in sick today?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. He knows it's no use lying, or avoiding eye contact with his best friend because Robin knows that he is finally going to do it with Eddie.

... It's just that he had failed to mention that they set a date that also ended up being a perfect summer's day.

He looks around the empty store – it's not like he is needed here, anyway.

"Why could you just – " she makes a scissors motion with her fingers, " – Cut the wrapper open?"

Steve's jaw drops.

"Oh..." he hums barely above a whisper, "I didn't... we..."

He can feel Eddie shrug next to him and murmur, "We didn't... think of that. I... I don't even think Steve owns... a pair of scissors... His... Y'know his desk is pretty... bare."

Steve slowly turns his head as Eddie rambles, catching him making some weird swish motion he supposes is supposed to represent his empty student desk.

But soon they make eye contact and –

Eddie moves first, turning on his heel at break-neck speed. Steve quickly follows, the two of them scrambling for the front glass door with such force that the bell sounds like it could knock straight off its hinges.

"Hey, at least you kiddos seemed to have paid attention in health class!"

Conclusion here

[silvershiningtarot]

Pac 18+: How Your First Kiss Gonna Be Like With Your Spouse & Where?

Inhale and exhale 😮‍💨 Remember this is a general reading and I will go depths of your connection with your spouse and this about your first kiss with them. Where are you going to kiss them?

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

Pile 1: (Three Of Cups) Okay, I have a sense that some of y'all first kiss with your husbands it is going to be outside. Maybe, it will be on a powerful day. I heard on a Super Full Moon or when the moon is out. So it will be at night. They will take you out at night when the moon is outshining bright. So both of y’all emotions will be high and it is going to be an emotional day for you two. It is part of the soul contract between you and your husband. Since the 3 Of cups, it is about soul contracts as well. It is going to be big for you two. I think that they would want to commit to you after this first kiss. I had a vision that something was going to happen for you two. It probably releasing. Everything between you two is releasing. 😱I am gasping right now. I am feeling and seeing when you two kiss it is like that movie “Shrek” True Love First Kiss. Aww. What a fairytale! So dreamy vibes I am getting. It's like he ain't best good-looking man but they will treat you right. But in my opinion, I doubt any of y’all husbands straight-up look like a fucking Ogre 👹. Nah, your husband is ugly. I think that they aren't like goddamn! But they are good-looking. That will be the man/woman of your dreams. They'll treat you like the Queen/King to be. (Six Of Swords) My thing is this, what I got from this Six Of Swords is that you may leave some people behind before this kiss happens. I am thinking that maybe, you will go through some type of issue with people. Maybe, you'll realize some people that you thought that were supposed to be loyal to you and they fucking just left you. So you bounce that ass out of there. I've heard your husband say “Come on, let me take you somewhere else. I have something I wanna show you” Haha 😂 I can fucking see your mouth open 👐🏾 wide ass hell. I got a sense that you'll be fucking shocked and appalled about how your husband did. I've heard you say “How did you do all of this?” I don't think anyone ever did something so special to you. You'll be so shocked at how they did it for you and Just you. It's like fucking Wow. Shit! Even I am shocked too. I can see it. It was like out in the woods 🪵 and I saw so many trees. It is like a forest that way deep into the woods where you two find an open space just for y'all two to be together alone. I can see that you dropping your walls down and telling them what happened. “What’s wrong my love?” I think they like saying to you “My Love” I can see them gritting their fucking jawline damn! It must be one hella of a story you tell them. Because damn! Fuck! They'll be pissed off. Yikes. It got my eyes emotional. (Death) So, I was right! This is first kiss it is something you two will never I mean NEVER! Forget at all. Your first kiss with them will be fucking rebirthing and breathe taking. I can see them leading in and kissing you and both of you are saying “Wow” because it is going to change everything. Then after the first kiss, I could see them just grabbing your face and kissing you hard not hella rough but just passionate. I've heard that they never got a kiss like that in such a long time. OMFG! This kiss is what you are going to tell your fucking kids about one day. I believe you will tell some of your close friends about it. Look at that! With the 6 Of Swords again, the Moon is out! Definitely, it is going to happen when the moon is out. Okay, I was right! It is going to feel like true love's first kiss 😘 OMG, even I blushing. That was so romantic. Omg, I am blushing ☺️. For some of you, it might happen where it is out of the country. For Most of you, it can happen in three places. At your event, you might have heard about a grand opening. Maybe, you invest in something they'll be there to celebrate your wins with you. They'll kiss you right in front of people at your event. Or They’ll kiss you when you open up your front door. “I can’t wait for any longer to do this to you.” Damn! It is me or your husband got even hotter 🔥. I can see them just kissing you😆.

Pile 2: (Eight Of Pentacles) This might happen at a workplace. I do have a sense that it can happen where you are doing your job. That is when your husband comes in and kisses you. I have a sense it won't be on the lips 💋 but I do have a vibe that it will start with a little bit of kisses on the cheek and then a big kiss is going to happen. So I am getting that it might be indoors. Like I feel like someone might see y'all kissing. But in my opinion, who gives a shit! Ahh! I had a vision that you working on a new project and they just walked in “What are you doing darling?” I think they like calling you that darling. I think that's their favorite word. ❤️. (The Strength) Oh, they will have the strength to kiss you. But I have a feeling of hesitation. They are going to be nervous when they kiss you. I see them walking back and forth just talking to themselves. OH MY GOODNESS! It is intense with this one. Damn! They making me nervous 😰 oh my, they like you a lot. I can see them talking to their self. Not in a negative way. But I've heard 👂 them say “I wonder if she/he likes me too”. OMG, I wanna cry for them because they are going to like you a lot and I have a nervous vibe from them. They don't want you to reject them. I do feel that someone might think your husband is crazy because they are walking back and forth trying to figure out what they are going to say to you. (The Lovers) Oh, gasp so you two will share a special bond between you, and your husband. I can see that it might be outside for some of you. I think for most of you, your first kiss will be outside. Oh yeah, I was right! Your husband will have a crush on you. They imagine you kissing 😘 all the fucking time. They are turning themselves on. Both of you will make it official with each other and steamy kisses. Oh yes, you two will drooling while when you are kissing them. Oh god! Yes. There's a lot of passion when you two kiss. So I believe some of you it might happen at a cookout. For most of you, it will happen when you are at a nightclub together and it just happens that's what I heard. So after the first kiss, they are going to love just kissing you and kissing you over and over again. 😘🍀😘

Pile 3: (The Emperor) Your First Kiss with your husband is going to be very intense is what I'm feeling. Because I do feel that they want to dominate the situation. If that makes sense. I heard patient they'll be patient with you. “Whenever you're ready, I'm here.” I have a sense that your husband/wife might be older than you. They have a pet too. I see that your husband can be a respectable man/woman. (Ace Of Swords) I feel your first kiss with them will be in a logical sense because I got a vibe that it will give you clarity and you'll have an open mind about kissing your husband. I'm hearing that mentally stimulating will turn you out. I can see a slow pace with this. (King Of Wands) Woah, they'll be a firecracker 🧨 with you. But I keep hearing patience. Haha 😂 I can them talking to their friends about you. I noticed planning. So maybe, they'll be planning how they will kiss you. I was right! It is going to be a gentle kiss and also a passionate kiss as well. They are going to be kissing you on your neck. I heard “dirty talks” so whenever they are kissing they like to start off kissing your neck. I think that your first kiss will be at a festival. I had a vision when the fireworks go off that's when you two will kiss. Your husband is an amazing kisser and I think the first time when they kiss you they will cum in their pants. I can them roughly kissing you right after. You two will be sharing that moment together. (Moment kiss)

Pile 4: (Two Of Wands) So I feel that your first kiss with your husband will be smooth and magical at the same time. I have a sense that you are first with your husband I notice that it will be calm. I heard “You'll know when the time comes.” So you will know when your husband will kiss you. I don't see it coming unexpectedly. I feel that they are going to prepare as well. But it is going to be so magical. It will bring out the spark in both of you. I feel the magic swirling courses to both of y’all bodies. It is like you both will put enough energy into this kiss. I don't know how to explain this pile but it is going to be emotional too. I believe it is going to be at night. Well, I have a sense of sunset 🌇. When the sun goes down “It is time now, make the move”. I just heard their thoughts just now about it. I have a gut feeling that it will be intuitively transforming. For some of you, it might happen at a comedy show like after the show and you guys went somewhere to share y'all first kiss together. So it is going to be at the river. Then I feel like after this moment of yall two sharing that kiss I have a vision that you two will be making out. Passionately making out. So it is going to be at the river. Yes! They will slowly and gently move closer to you and lead in to kiss you. Then Bam! 💥💥💥 you two will be kissing like crazy. It's going to feel like love ❤️. For Most of you, I believe that you might share your first kiss with your husband in the movie theater. Yes! Aww, so it is going to be out in public with you both. Aww. So lovely.

Pile 5: (The Empress) “My Queen I bow to you as the Queen you are.” Well, they just needed to say that😘🌸. How lovely that is. I believe that your husband will be star-struck by your beauty and how beautiful you are to them in their eyes. I noticed that they love the way you are. “I like who you are, I love who you are and you shouldn't change that not even for me. I put you high up to make sure your feet never touch the ground. Do you know why that is? Because you are a fallen angel that fell from the sky and just be with me.” Aww, they are such a charming guy. But anyway, I can see them being respectful to you. So maybe, your first kiss with them will be outside. Maybe, around an Apple tree 🍃. Haha 😂 so I think that your first kiss with them will be outside in the morning time. I'm seeing like a garden. I know you might be around flowers 🌸. So after a while, you two will be tongue kissing 😘. So yeah, I believe your first time with your husband/wife will be your tongue kissing. Freaky they are. Ahh! It will be breathtaking of course. It is like you took their breath away. For most of you, I think your husband/wife will walk up to you grab you, and start kissing you. I can see them right now just walk up and start kissing you. You'll be shocked as hell but turn on at the same time. If that makes sense. For Some of you, it might happen at that river. That is where your first kiss is going to be at the river. It will be passionate. For a lot of you, your kiss with them will happen when you two collaborate doing music together. So like the first video, it will happen when you two kiss. So, I noticed that your husband will be nervous kissing you. So they'll smoothly kiss you on the cheek first and then work their way up on those lips of yours.

Pile 6: (Judgement) Alrighty, your first kiss 😘 with your husband/wife is going to be like music to your ears. It is going to feel like harmony with you two. I see like as a dream come true. Do you know what vibe I am getting off this? That new movie The Little Mermaid 🧜‍♀️ that's exactly what I'm seeing. A lot of water surrounding y'all. This connection is like Neptune. Very dreamy. They might take you somewhere special just to share that moment with you. Maybe, your husband/wife plays the flute. “Your voice is like music to my ears” I truly think that you should watch that new Little Mermaid movie. That's the vibe I am truly getting from this pile. I heard “This kiss will be spiritual” Your first kiss with them will be very spiritual. It's like so intense it will take you on dimensions. I cannot describe this but it is like no other kiss you or they ever shared with another person. Not no ex, or high school sweetheart this is a powerful kiss. Wow 😮. Their first time with you it will be gentle. So a gentle kiss. You two will share that special moment. That moment kiss together. “You are my dream come true.” After the first time, they won't stop fantasizing about that kiss with you. Where it might happen at a hotel sweet. They'll be lusting over you. So you two might get caught kissing by someone I don't know who but it's someone. I heard “Family member.” so probably like a family member. For a lot of you, it will happen on your second or third date with them. Maybe, you two will take a vacation getaway and they'll lead in and kiss you. But whoever is in the music industry or just loves to perform. They are going to walk up on you while you are performing and start kissing you. I can see them grabbing your face and kissing you. Oh my damn! I noticed that the world would be in complete shock after this kiss 😘. Oh my goodness, 💋💋💋.

[jessybarnes]

Insatiable

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader 

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: SMUT, fluff, slight angst...like you'll have to squint to see it, oral fixation, oral sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, scratching, spanking, slight dom Chris, unprotected sex, face riding, language, nipple play, choking, hair pulling, and I believe that's it. 

Word Count: 2,136

Beta: T. Thompson 

Title Card: Yours Truly 

Written for: One of my besties. She saw a TikTok of Chris wiping his beard with his hand and her reaction was "Imagine him doing that after going down on you." And thus led to me writing this filthy one shot. Enjoy my fellow sinners. ;)

A/N: I did have a title card on this, but it's too explicit for tumblr's guidelines. If you would still like to see it let me know and I'll send it to you a different way. My apologies that I can't post it here.

"Thank god this day's almost over," you mumbled to yourself, kicking the door shut behind you.

It had definitely been one hell of a day. You slept through your alarm, traffic made you even later to work, you spilled your morning coffee all over your new jacket, and to top it all off you dropped your phone into a puddle. Yeah, today could fuck right the hell off. 

You tossed your car keys into the bowl on the table by the door and kicked your heels off. All you wanted to do was take a long hot bath and cuddle with your boyfriend.

It felt too good to be true whenever you remembered you were in a romantic relationship with a famous actor, but here you were, living the dream.

Chris Evans bumped into you on the sidewalk, catching you before you hit the ground, nearly two years ago. It was like one of those sappy rom coms. Guy runs into the girl, the guy catches the girl as she literally falls for him, the girl gives him her number, and they live happily ever after.

You still couldn't believe Chris fucking Evans was interested in you, but you thanked fate that he continued to be the one you woke up to every morning. 

"Honey? Is that you?"

His smooth Boston accent echoed through the house bringing you back to reality.

"Yeah, baby, it's me."

You draped your jacket over the back of the couch and headed up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

"Come here. I wanna show you so-." Chris stopped mid-sentence, a letter opener hanging loosely from his lips.

You stood in the doorway and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What? Is there something on my face?"

He blinked slowly, dragging his eyes from your curled hair to your red button-up blouse, the form-fitting pencil skirt hugging your hips, and finally down to your bare feet.

"Fuck, I swear I'm the luckiest man in the goddamn universe."

He climbed off the bed and stalked toward you, a primal hunger in his stormy blue eyes. You didn't have a chance to respond, he was on you in seconds.

Chris slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss, one of his large hands making its way up the back of your neck and into your hair.

"Baby," your hands rested against his chest, "what's gotten into you?"

He smirked against your lips. "Nothin', sweetheart. However, there's gonna be something in you here in a minute." He gave you a sinful wink.

"Christopher!" You shook your head and swatted his shoulder playfully.

He chuckled, trailing kisses along your neck while attempting to unbutton your shirt. "Can't blame me when you look like this…so fuckin' pretty, baby. Just wanna taste you."

Chris growled impatiently, "goddamn buttons…fuck it!" He ripped the thin fabric easily, scattering them in all different directions.

"Ah! Hey! That was my favorite shirt, ya know." You tried to sound angry, but the way he continued to kiss and lick at your pulse point made your voice breathy.

"I'll buy you another one. Shit, I'll buy you two hundred if you'll let me fuck your sweet pussy with my mouth." 

You let out a sinful moan, hands fisting in his short blonde hair as he kissed down your chest. "Oh, god…yes, fuck yes, please whatever you wanna do to me…'m yours."

Chris unzipped your skirt with his teeth, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. He pulled it down your legs and helped you step out of it, leaving you in just your white lace bra and panty set. It was one of his favorites and you didn't miss the low groan he made.

His eyes drank you in, a needy whimper falling from your lips. "Please touch me…"

Chris wet his lips, sliding his calloused hands up your thighs to your ass. "Oh, princess, I'm gonna do way more than touch you."

He pushed your legs apart, licking and sucking love bites into your inner thighs.

"Fuck, oh my god, baby please… please I-I need more… Chris, I need more!"

He gave a warning slap to your ass, his mouth continuing its assault just shy of where you wanted him the most. "I'll decide what you need, Y/N." 

Your hand gripped the door frame and you bit your lip as he pushed your panties to the side.

"Jesus, sugar…fuckin' soaking wet. Can't wait to have you come apart over and over again just from my mouth. Wanna hear you make those pretty sounds. Love the way you scream my name, baby."

You swore his words alone could make you come. It was no secret that Chris loved going down on you, and he was damn good at it too.

"Please…"

He finally gave in, hooked your right leg over his shoulder, and held you still as he delved his tongue between your folds.

"Oh-my-fu-! Chris!"

He moaned, his tongue moving back and forth between your clit to your hole expertly. You tried to roll your hips but his grip on you held you right where he wanted you. Chris dipped his tongue inside you, your legs beginning to shake as he devoured you.

"Oh, fuck….fuck-fuck-fuck! Chris! Feels so good! So fuckin' good…please don't stop!"

He slapped your ass again, moving back to wrap his lips around your clit.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit I'm gonna cum...gonna-cum-oh-my-god!"

Chris locked eyes with you, his tongue flicking your sensitive bud, and the moment he took it between his teeth you lost it. The coil of arousal inside you snapped like a rubber band. He groaned, taking everything you gave him until it got to be too much and you pushed him away.

"Mmm, can never get enough of you, honey. Taste so fuckin delicious." 

Chris stood up and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently on the duvet. "Gonna need you to do that again for me, Y/N. M'still not satisfied."

You looked up at him with wide eyes, "Baby, I… I don't think I can do that again. M'too sensitive."

He got down on his knees and hooked his arms under your thighs pulling you to the edge of the bed. "Oh, I bet you can, doll. Bet you can give me at least three more."

"Three?! Chris, I don't think th-holyfuckingshit!"

He brought his head back between your legs and shoved his tongue inside of you while his hands pinned your hips to the bed.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! OH, FUCK! Chris! Chris, baby, please… please I- oh-my-god yes, right there!"

The combination of his thumb on your clit, his tongue reaching places inside you that you didn't know existed, and his beard hair rubbing against your skin made your vision go white. Your back arched off the bed, the sheets tangling between your fingers as you felt your release gush onto the bed. 

Chris stood and lay next to you, pulling you on top of him as he watched you gasp for breath. "That was the hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen you do, Y/N. Fuck, I almost came in my pants like a teenage boy."

He lifted his hips, his jean-covered cock brushing your clit making you shiver. "Feel that? Feel how fuckin' hard my cock is, princess? Just wanna fuck you into this mattress and fill you full of my cum."

"Please," you whimpered, "do it, baby. Want you to fuck me so bad."

He kissed you sweetly, the taste of you still on his lips. "Oh, I plan to, sweetheart. I'm gonna fuck you on every piece of furniture in this house, but first," he tapped your left leg, "I want you to sit on my face."

Your moan put every porn star to shame, as you positioned yourself over his head. "Chris, are you sure about this? I mean, how're you gonna breathe?"

He chuckled, "listen, sugar, if I die from having the best thing I've ever tasted smothering my face then oh well. I'll die happy."

Chris didn't waste another second, any rational argument you had disappeared as he pulled you down against his open mouth.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ! Baby, it's too much! Fuck, I can't...I, oh, shit… shit, fuck, oh, GOD!" 

Chris lifted you off him, giving you a brief moment to breathe. "Princess, now that I know you can squirt, I'm hooked. So, you're gonna be a good girl and do it again. Understand?"

You let out a strangled cry as he resumed his assault on your soaked pussy.

"Ch-Chris! Baby, I-..."

Your hands fisted in your hair as your legs shook violently, his hands gripping your ass like a lifeline. The hot spark of arousal coursed through you, straight to your core like a lightning bolt. Chris dipped his tongue into your soaked hole, spreading your wetness to your clit before doing it all over again.

"Oh, baby, just like that...fuck please… please, don't stop! Shit, right there! Oh, fuck right there, oh-my-god- I'm- Chris I'm cumming…Oh my g-CHRIS!"

If he wasn't holding you up you would have collapsed. The force of your third orgasm coated Chris’s face with your release. 

Once you were able to gather your bearings again, Chris had already stripped the rest of his clothes off and was kissing you like he needed you to survive. He cradled you in his arms and hovered over you, smiling at your blissed-out state.

"You alright there, honey?"

You nodded, licking your lips and staring up at the smug look on his face.

"Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I just made you squirt twice with my mouth alone. Pretty impressive, right?"

You giggled and booped his nose. "Very impressive, indeed. Sometimes I think they really did give you that super soldier serum."

He laughed and kissed your lips. "Mmm, I dunno...maybe they did. I think," he pressed his thick cock against your entrance, "we should find out."

You bit your lip. "Show me what you got, Cap." 

Chris buried himself inside you in one smooth motion, both of you moaning loudly. "Christ, sugar, you hear how fuckin' wet you are? Can feel you squeezin' me…fuck. I know you got one more baby. Gimme one more. Wanna feel you soak my cock."

Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pulled out and slammed back in, the feeling of your velvet walls spurring him on. Chris set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and deep, and when the blunt head of his cock hit your spot you screamed.

"Chris! Chris, oh my god! Fuckkk! Harder baby! Don't stop!"

His big hands pulled the white lace of your bra down exposing your tits. He wrapped his lips around one nipple, his fingers rolling the other one deliciously.

"Fuckin' perfect, Y/N…so fuckin' beautiful. Seein' you writhe under me, knowin' I make you feel this good, god baby you're a dream. I know you're close, love. The way your pussy's gripping me like a vice, mmm it's so fuckin' good. C'mon, baby. Come for me, come all over my cock, Y/N." 

His thrusts were relentless, and the moment his right hand wrapped around your throat you dug your nails into his back.

"That's it, fuck, yeah, that's it. Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum...gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Let go, pretty girl. Fuck! Gonna cu-AH!"

Chris came hard, thick ropes of cum coating your walls, just as you felt yourself come all over him, yourself, and the bedsheets. You couldn't move if you tried, your limbs felt like jelly and your breaths came in pants.

Chris trailed a string of open-mouthed kisses from your chest, along your neck, and finally planted a chaste one on your lips. "Baby, you're incredible. Fuck, that was amazing…"

He slowly pulled out of you and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor. "I'll be gentle, honey."

He was mindful of how sensitive you were as he slowly cleaned you up. Once he was finished, he scooped you up and carried you to the living room. He sat down on the couch and held you close to his chest, stroking your hair.

"Mmm, love you, Chris."

He tilted your head back and kissed you sweetly. "I love you too, honey."

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck and sighed happily. "M'gonna sleep right here, kay?"

He laughed and ran his fingertips down your back lightly. "Alright, baby. I'm waking you up in an hour though."

"Why?" You groaned.

Chris rested his hand on your ass and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Well, I figured we'd start on the couch, then move to the dining room table, and end the night with you on the kitchen counter."

You rolled your eyes, pulling back to give him an incredulous look.

You're insatiable.

[harmonictechnicality]

This has got to be a mistake. There is no way on this spherical floating rock of fucked-uppery that this is the right hotel room.

Rose petals. Champagne bottles in a glass bucket. A silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries. A goddamn hot tub in the center of the room??

Mistake. Total mistake. The highest of errors.

See, Eddie is just tagging along with Steve on his monthly trips to visit Henderson at his big-brained university. And since Eddie has earned himself an appalling (yet valid) reputation of being flaky as dandruff, Steve was in charge of all the travel arrangements. Gas, schedule, hotel room.

This isn’t a hotel room. This a fucking honeymoon suite.

“The concierge said this was the only room left.” Steve tells him, plopping his duffel bag onto the heart-shaped bed. Which… fuck, really? Those exist outside of soft-core pornos?

“Sure. Okay.” Eddie spots candles on the balcony. Their balcony. Holy… “But why is all of this romantic shit here? Cause I’m sure as hell not paying for any of it.”

Eddie is barely paying for anything to begin with. He bought the snacks at the first gas station stop and has conveniently forgotten to pitch in ever since.

Steve shrugs. “It just… comes with the room, apparently.”

Eddie really wishes Steve had not put emphasis on that specific word. Knowing his hyperactive imagination, he won’t be able to un-hear that phrase for the entire duration of their trip. Awesome.

See, none of this would’ve been a problem two months ago. Up until then, Eddie never thought about inflicting red-rope marks around Steve’s wrists or how salivating it must sound to have his own name leaving Steve’s mouth while it’s stuffed with silk. No. Before two months ago, Eddie had Very Normal thoughts about Steve Harrington.

But since that day - the day Steve insisted on helping Eddie reapply his new eyebrow piercing, Eddie’s normal thoughts have been fucking poisonedwith vulgarity. 

It was everything whipped into one moment. The close proximity, the chemical-high off the sanitation wipes, the wetness of Steve’s fingers on him, the slight pinch of the metal threading through Eddie’s skin. 

As soon as Steve inserted the thin barbell, Eddie audibly gasped, swore quietly, had to play it off like the insertion hurt or whatever - just so Steve wouldn’t freak the fuck out. It proved to be an ineffective attempt at coolness, obviously Steve knew what he was doing. Has been an absolute tease about it ever since too. Flirty comments with Eddie when no one is around or making subtle touches whenever Eddie is close enough to get away with that sort of thing.

And look, Eddie would happily encourage all of that. He’d get Steve out of that stupid little polo and kiss every muscle on his torso if he thought that’s what Steve really wanted. There’s just no damn way that they are into the same stuff, physically.

Steve is probably nuts about fluffy-pink sex. All wispy touches and muffled moans under the covers. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. Eddie wants bruising kisses and sensual demands. He wants to dissect all the vanilla parts of Steve and replace them with black magic and velvet.

That. That is why this room, these things, that person, is making this all of this very dangerous for Eddie.

“You okay, man?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.” Liar.

“You’ve been staring at the desk lamp for like, five minutes.”

“Just speculating as to where the interior designer may have found a dark red lightbulb.” Which, yeah. Why is it red? Is red the horniest color? Eddie bets if Steve is lying beneath red lighting, it’ll look like his whole body is flushed, overheated from whatever Eddie is doing to him.

Fuck. This is bad. This is so very bad.

And yet, Steve is so unfazed. So casual. He’s eating the gummies off the snack bar like they’re not shaped like dicks. He’s turning on the stereo as if it’s not only looping through steamy saxophone solos. Why is none of this affecting him like it’s affecting Eddie? Is passion and desire so deeply woven into his Harrington DNA that this stuff is just a typical Tuesday for him? Ugh, Eddie is making his own head spin. 

“So…” Eddie sways side to side. “None of this is weird to you?”

“What do you mean?”

What does he mean? What fucking gives? “Uh - there’s a bowl of flavored rubbers sitting next to your hand, dude. How are you so chill about this?”

Steve clinks his nail over the condom bowl. “It’s just stuff. No biggie.”

“Just stuff? It’s like a romance novel threw up in this place.”

“Yeah, but..” Steve counters, sounds irritated. “It’s only romantic if you’re with someone and wanna… get it on.”

Eddie scoffs. “Get it on? What - suddenly, you can’t just say fuck?”

“You’re so annoying.” Steve rolls his eyes, tosses another dick gummy into his mouth. “These are all just things. It’s all about your mindset.”

“I disagree.” Eddie states. “I think anyone with an active libido would wanna fuck all over this sex-trap.”

“Booby-trap.”

“Nice one.” Eddie gives Steve a high-five. Unironically.

“Still…” Steve turns the volume dial down on the stereo. “I think you’re wrong.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve’s arms fold into his chest, taking a step towards Eddie. “Then prove your point. Convince me otherwise.”

Eddie should back down. He should wrap a leash around all of his sick thoughts and chain them up somewhere far away. He should not say what he’s about to say. He shouldn’t.

“How about we make a bet?” Big yikes. Wrong move.

“What kind of bet, Munson?”

“I bet you twenty bucks that I can change your mind. If we can use up all of these so-called ‘regular items,’ without you feeling a twinge of romance, then you win.”

Steve doesn’t respond, so Eddie keeps talking. Can’t shut up anymore.

“But if you so much as blush during any of it, then I win.”

Steve opens his mouth, shuts it. He raises an eyebrow and tries again. “When you say regular items, that excludes the condom bowl, right?” 

“What ever do you mean?” Eddie gives a sneaky grin, no restraining his dirty plan now. “You’re not interested in making balloon animals this evening?”

Steve huffs, plops down into a nearby chair. “So weird.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Harrington?” 

This is so dumb. Eddie can tell just how dumb it is by the puzzled expression on Steve’s face. But here he is, making bets like he’s still in fucking high school, trying to swindle beefy jocks out of their cushy-privileged allowance money.

However, it appears that Steve is just as dumb as Eddie is.

“Make it forty bucks.” Steve offers a hand out to him. 

Eddie accepts it, gives the firmest handshake. “You're on.”

So much for this being a normal evening.

*the rest is on ao3 :) here's the link*

[saccharineomens]

A small Chainsaw Man Analysis

They're referencing this post:

(Sorry i can't respond to your ask directly, tumblr kept crashing)

LMAO ok Anon you win but I can’t promise this will be very articulate or coherent

Ok so when I first heard about Chainsaw Man I heard it was The Manga Of All Time and the anime has been Majorly Hyped and Everyone Loves It so I was curious. Then I went and watched the anime and I was like ‘huh ok I mean. It’s good but it’s not like mindblowing.’

Then I read the manga all the way to the end of part 1 and I understood.

So the world of Chainsaw Man is set in a Fucking Bleak reality. Like, overwhelmingly so. The fact that devils exist and can murder humans on a whim and it’s basically treated as an unavoidable inconvenience because how the hell can you stop them, really, when they’re functionally immortal? The best you can do is kill them, send them to Hell, and hope they don’t die there and revive back on Earth. The protagonist is a 16 year old orphan who sold parts of his body to pay off a “noodle incident” debt inherited from his father, and then the kid was murdered by the yakuza he owed money to because they decided they liked devils, actually, and didn’t want him around killing them. In CHAPTER ONE. Why would anyone enjoy reading about a story set in a world like this?

Because of Aki, and Power, and the family Denji created with them. It takes a while for the ball to get rolling in the story, because they’re strangers at the beginning, but any manga reader is gonna know what I mean when I talk about how they love each other. Denji comes across as a sex-obsessed, horny teen, but that’s just because he craves emotional intimacy and sex is the only way he thinks he could get it. The truth is that his shower/bath with Power was the exact kind of vulnerability and intimacy he was craving, and it WASN’T sexy. The narrative didn’t treat it as sexy. Denji even notes that it wasn’t sexy, to his surprise, but it was nice to be able to be vulnerable with another person. Then there’s Aki, who imprinted on Denji and Power so hard he straight-up was considering quitting being a devil hunter so he could just live a normal life with his new family. He was willing to abandon his obsession with the gun devil, something that he’d been driving his will to live for years, for them. It was Himeno’s death and the letter he read that made him realize that the life of a country mouse might not be so bad, if it’s with the people he loves. (I know that’s a loaded sentence out of context but manga readers know what I mean when I bring up the country mouse, right)

I bring all of this up to show how even in a grim, dark, depressing world like Chainsaw Man, there is hope; and that hope comes in the form of love. Love in a general, not romantic, sense. Love of having toast and jam for breakfast, love of a movie, love of a family.

Now, to Makima.

Makima is Really Fucking Goddamn Powerful. She is literally reality breaking, almost as much as Chainsawman. (For the purposes of this essay, I’m referring to Pochita/Chainsawman and Denji as separate entities.) Makima is able to control anyone so long as she feels she has power over them, and she has a contract with the fucking Prime Minister. That’s a terrifying power. She’s literally the manifestation of the fear of being controlled.

And that’s a lonely existence.

Pochita/Chainsawman says it himself. When you’re so powerful, you struggle to make connections with people. Either they worship you and put you on a pedestal, or they fear you. You can’t get close to anyone, no matter how hard you try. The only way Pochita was able to do so was because Denji had no idea who Chainsawman was.

Makima doesn’t show this emotional weakness of hers, because it directly opposes her powers. If people saw her as needing connections with other people, they wouldn’t respect/fear her, and she would literally become weaker as a result. (The same way that as Chainsawman becomes more beloved by the general populace as a Hero, he becomes weaker.) But there’s a point where we, the audience, get to see this side of her. In her date with Denji.

Quick recap (of one of the best chapters in the whole manga, thematically): Denji and Makima go on a date at a movie theater. They sit and watch like six movies in a row over the course of the day. The first five are packed with people and are funny/entertaining, but not very deep. Neither Denji nor Makima are very impressed with these. Then…I’ll just post the comic here.

The final movie they see is more of an indie arthouse film. Most importantly, it shares an intimate, vulnerable moment between two people who hug. Denji cries because he sees this thing he craves, as I’ve elaborated on. Then he looks over and sees that Makima is also crying. We already know why, as Pochita said: she is unable to get close to anyone, due to the nature of her powers and the nature of her being a devil. Because of this, Makima craves connections with other people.

Makima straight up tells the audience why she’s doing the things she’s doing. If she has control over Chainsawman, she can have him eat other devils and create a world where those fears never existed. She truly, honestly believes this would make a happier life for humans. But the problem with that mentality is that in a world without bad things, in a world without fear…there’s no good things, either. How do you tell how “good” a good thing is, if you have nothing to compare it against? How can you tell that one in five movies is “good”, if you don’t experience the other four?

Why would anyone enjoy reading about a story set in a world like this? Because despite all of the horrible things that happens, love exists. It shows up over and over and over again. Love exists. It was there. It mattered. It was worth fighting for.

That brings me to the conversation between Makima and Denji I love so much, and why the end of Part 1 works so well.

Makima thinks that a world without bad movies fear would be better. She thinks that in this world, she could be loved. She thinks that in this world, humans could be happy forever because they never suffer hardship.

And Denji knows for a fact that that's wrong, because without bad movies, the good movies don't stand out. You can't say that jam and toast is a great breakfast if all you've ever eaten is jam and toast for breakfast.

And that's why Makima is tragic (because she's never experienced the love that Denji has, and never experienced the hardships he has), and that's why Makima is wrong.

And all of this, the whole conflict of the story, is summed up in three lines between Denji and Makima in a graveyard. It's perfect.

[sadhours]

ABSENTEE - 1

next chapter • masterlist • my requests are open!!

my new series!!! i promise the finale to wicked sensations is coming soon but in the mean time, enjoy this :) it’ll be mostly Billy centric, not terribly romantic and it takes place before he moves to hawkins

content warnings: minors dni 18+, violence, child abuse (physical and verbal), homophobic slur, cannabis use, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, blow job

word count: 6k+

///.

The rooftop is his favorite place to be. It’s calm, though you can hear the sounds of the city below you. Billy likes the whooshing of the cars on the highway and the drunken chatter of college kids bar hopping. Soothing. Happy sounds. Not like the ones he hears at home. The second he’s through the door, Neil’s berating him for whatever he’s stewed on while Billy was gone. So suffice to say, Billy stays out of the house most days and nights. The grace period from having Max and Susan is over and Neil isn’t hiding who he truly is anymore. As Billy rolls his spliff, he remembers Susan’s reaction the first time his dad had smacked him upside the head in front of her. It was unmoving, her face stoic and a look in her eye like Billy deserved it. He can’t even remember what prompted it, but that was the glorious thing about Neil’s fists, they didn’t need a reason. Billy could have moved the dish soap in the kitchen a centimeter and that would be enough to set his dad off. So why the hell would he be home when he could be anywhere else?

Absent. That’s what Max called him this morning. Just like his mother, he thought. It was true. Billy was numb to it all. He could be there but not really. Auto pilot, doing what’s expected but without reason behind it. He’s floating through life without real meaning to it. Billy hopes he’ll find something worth living for. Shit, most sixteen year olds have no true passion for life but no other kids have Neil as a father. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when his buddy, Reggie changes the cassette in the boombox. He’s supposed to be having a good time, he reminds himself, not thinking about how bad he doesn’t want to be at home. Billy licks up the side of the paper to seal the spliff, reaching for his zippo and lighting it up. He inhales deeply, letting his eyelids close with the motion as the sharp smoke fills his lungs and immediately relaxes him. Fuck, weeds awesome. Reggie’s been on this New Wave kick and Billy can’t stand it, unless he’s stoned. When he’s stoned, all music is pretty rad. So the Joy Division cassette isn’t the worst he’s heard. It fits Billy’s mood pretty well. He won’t admit it, the goddamn hopelessness of the lyrics hit him square in the chest and make him feel a little less alone.

“The girls are taking forever,” Reggie complains and Billy agrees. He could really use a beer, cotton mouth kicking in far too quick for his liking.

With a shrug, Billy peers over the edge to see if he can get a glimpse of you guys. You’ve been dating a couple months at this point, but you’ve been friends for years. Right after Billy’s mom left and Neil uprooted him from the house they shared to an apartment in the heart of the city. Billy misses that house and that apartment. You lived in the complex and he’d met you while he was graffitiing the apartments playground slide with a sharpie. He thinks he was drawing a crude pair of tits but he can’t remember, knows for sure he’d scribbled his favorite swear words at the time all over it. You guys were eleven years old. You came up to him and asked if you could draw something. You drew a cartoonish dick and right then, Billy decided you were gonna be friends.

Then Neil met Susan a few years later when he was fourteen. They moved quick and got married a month after meeting. He hates moving, so he wasn’t thrilled when Neil and Susan insisted on finding a three bedroom house closer to Max’s school. Luckily, Billy didn’t have to change schools but the house was in a cookie cutter suburb instead of the city. Plus, you weren’t a two minute walk away anymore and Neil got to keep him on a shorter leash.

“Beeeer!!!” you and Cindy, Reggie’s girlfriend cheer in unison as you climb up onto the roof through the fire escape.

“Finally,” Reggie grunts, snatching the spliff from Billy’s fingers and extends his opposite hand for a beer.

“Why are you listening to this depressing shit?” Cindy complains as she hands him an Old Milwaukee, “We’re supposed to be partying.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Billy shrugs as you nestle yourself next to him on the edge of the roof, he wraps his arm around you and accepts the beer you offer.

Cindy gapes, “You’re the last person I’d expect that from.”

Billy doesn’t respond. Instead, he cracks his beer open and looks over the edge of the roof again. He sees a handful of girls stumbling beneath and he wonders if he hawked a loogie down could he hit them and what would they do. Saliva fills his mouth in anticipation but he decides against it. They’re pretty and their reactions probably won’t be all that exciting. He’s confident about his aim, though, figures he could land it on one particular girls’ cleavage. He smirks to himself as he brings the can to his lips and averts his eyes to his friends, looking for the spliff. It’s in Reggie’s hands again so Billy leans over and snatches it.

“Stop bogarting, asshat,” he snaps.

“Relax,” Reggie mumbles, “we tried passing it but you’re too busy checking out the chicks on the street.”

“I wasn’t checking them out,” Billy defends himself.

“Sure,” you sigh next to him before standing up and making your way to sit on the torn up couch Reggie and Cindy are lounging on.

Billy rolls his eyes, taking a hit off the spliff before looking down at his watch. The football game is probably almost over and Neil’s most likely dozing to sleep, drunk off a twelve pack. But Billy doesn’t intend to go home for a while, well after midnight. It’s summer after all. He could probably crash at Reggie’s tonight. It’s a good excuse to spend time with him because usually, Billy has to steer clear of him during the school year. Neil would kill him if he’d seen Billy hanging around a black kid. He’d probably kill Reggie too. In the summer it’s safe, but during the school year, his curfew is strict and Neil would rather Billy hang out at home. He brings friends around sometimes, but never Reggie.

You keep giving Billy an angry look. Max’s words this morning ring in his ears. Absent. Billy knows that’s why you’re mad at him too. You’d had the conversation a hundred times this summer alone. He doesn’t put enough effort into the relationship, you told him. Asked him if he wanted to go back to being just friends. But Billy assured you that he didn’t, promised to do better. He’s always being told he isn’t good enough. By everyone in his life. So much so that he’s gone numb to that too. Figures the least he can do is accept that he’s never going to be what people want him to be. It’s easier that way, anyways. Hard to let it get to him if he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.

The thing is, Billy just turned 16 and Neil’s expecting him to work this summer so you’ll just have to deal. He’s excited to get a job, excited to save up his money so he can get a car. He got his license the day after his birthday, figures by the end of August he should have enough to buy a beater car. Something he can fix up real nice. Something that’s his, proof he can accomplish a goal, proof he’s not such a goddamn waste.

He was supposed to be job hunting today but he didn’t. He got up early enough to surf, got home and showered, put on his fanciest button up that was a hand-me-down from his dad and told him he was off to fill out applications. He got stoned at Reggie’s house and the two of them watched TV for hours until Cindy called. Billy can do it tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. Maybe he can work at the surf shop. The owner likes him a lot. He’s even talked about Billy becoming a team rider. Billy tries not to get his hopes up about that. Neil doesn’t care for surfing, tells Billy it’s a waste of time. Not a skill for the real world. That’s what Billy likes about surfing though. It drags him far away from reality, his mind can finally relax when he’s catching waves.

He smokes the spliff until it’s a burnt roach, tossing it over the roof and stands up. Pacing around, he ignores the conversation the three of you are having as he focuses in on the buzz from the weed. He can feel the air better, feels like he can breathe better than ever before. He stares up at the moon, admiring how the clouds skate passed it. He lays on the floor, hands behind his head and focuses on the craters he can see in the moon. It’s full and he can kind of see a face in the craters, if he tilts his head it also looks like a little girl with a triangle dress.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his stomach and he turns to see you, sitting beside him with a curious smile. He returns it with lopsided one of his own.

“Get bored of ‘em?” he asks, softly.

You turn to look at Reggie and Cindy, his eyes follow to see the couple making out.

“Ah,” he purses his lips, “It’s that portion of the party, is it?”

You nod and Billy pats his hips, signaling you to climb into his lap. Once you do, he’s wrapping a hand around your neck and luring you down, lips hovering. You feel his teeth as he smiles before placing a tentative kiss to your lips. It starts slow, lazy from his dazed, stoned state. Billy prefers kissing when he’s high, doesn’t much care for it when he’s sober. But for some reason, in this altered state, it doesn’t feel as gross to him. Billy never tells you he doesn’t like kissing or that he thinks it’s kind of disgusting. When he’s horny enough, it’s not gross and he’ll lick into your mouth all sloppy as long as his dicks inside you. It’s not his foreplay though.

He can hear Reggie grunting and groaning. He doesn’t have to look over to know Cindy’s going down on him. She’s loud about it and Billy doesn’t admit that it turns him on. Billy thinks it must turn you on too because you start grinding your hips against his. Plus, he figures Reggie and Cindy won’t care much if they started it in the first place. Billy always feels a bit strange about the lack of boundaries, the fact that the four of you mess around in front of each other. Figures that you all get it when you can and it’s not often you guys are secluded enough to pull it off.

Billy grabs your hair to pull you away, moving his hands to undo his belt and you get the hint, lifting yourself up just enough to get your underwear off and Billy’s jeans and briefs down to his knees. You hold your skirt up, looking down at his pulsing erection settled against his stomach. He wraps his fingers around the base and spits onto his other hand, smearing it all over the head before lining it up with your entrance. You gasp when you feel him prodding, eyebrows knit together in desperation and Billy loves that. Feels like he’s done something good to make you want him so badly. You slowly lower yourself until he bottoms out and Billy grunts softly, pressing his palms to yours and lacing your fingers. It’s sweet, makes your whole body fill with adoration for him. His eyes are barely open, eyelids looking heavy while his mouth hangs open just enough for you to see his tongue pressing to his bottom lip. A roll of your hips and his tongue rolls against his bottom lip, a lewd moan tumbling out of him that has your toes curling in your shoes. Through all the bullshit he seems to drag you through, you wouldn’t ever give this up. He gets you fired up like no one else could. Billy’s a literal wet dream come to life and you have the fucking privilege of being with him. The slight curve of his cock is practically designed to fit you perfectly, hooking just right to nail that wonderful, spongy part inside of you. But you think you could cum just from looking at him, sometimes. Or hearing his voice.

You bend down to whisper in his ear, “You feel so good.”

He lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling your bodies flush as he groans breathy against your ear. You press gentle kisses along his jaw, bouncing in his lap over and over. He snakes his hands up your shirt and scratches down your back, arching his own which only buries him deeper inside of you. Deep enough he hits your cervix and you yelp. Billy chuckles softly before easing up, his hands steadying at your hips.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly, pulling back to look down at his face. He looks fucked out, totally blissful and all the stress and worry usually living there is gone. It makes your insides turn. You’d give absolutely anything to do that for him all the time. He starts thrusting his hips up at you, his hands holding your hips still so he can take control. He does it whenever he’s close and you’re almost there too so you keep staring down at his face, trying to commit it to memory like you haven’t seen it a hundred times, like you don’t see his face whenever you close your eyes.

Billy’s eyes open slowly and he maintains eye contact with you, his mouth open while pants and soft moans flood out of it. Just the look and sound of him is enough and your orgasm comes crashing through you.

“Billy,” you gasp, thighs shaking against his hips while you involuntarily hump against him.

He smiles then, all lips and no teeth but looking satisfied. You don’t get the opportunity to completely ride through it, he pulls out of you and you’re quick to move down and take his cock in your mouth, eyes wide as you look up at him. He gives a pathetic thrust and clenches his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and pull back, licking up the last of it that dribbles out of his slit. He whimpers and it sends another wave of arousal to your center.

With a sigh, he pulls his pants back on and hands you your discarded panties. You awkwardly pull them back on and reach your hand out to help your boyfriend back up. Billy kisses you softly before wandering over to the sixer and pulling another beer from it. He stands taller now, relaxed and you’re relieved you can help him in some way. Even if it seems like only sex.

Billy and Reggie share a look before the two of them burst out into giggles, Cindy rolls her eyes but immediately shoots you a pleased look. She enjoys it and so do you. Billy makes his way back to the edge of the rooftop, sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. He keeps peering over and it’s making you nervous. You don’t know what he’s thinking but sometimes you worry Billy imagines jumping off. What you don’t expect is to hear the sound of him hawking up a loogie.

“Billy,” you warn, standing up.

Reggie’s standing up with you but with excitement as he stumbles over and peers down with Billy.

Billy spits down and you hear a man from below shouting.

“Billy! Fucking hell,” you scold but your boyfriend is in a laughing fit, holding his gut as the careless sound rips through him.

Absent.

“I’m gonna beat your fucking face in!” the guy from the street shouts up at him.

“I’d like to see you try!” Billy replies.

“Then get your ass down here!”

Billy’s up to his feet, the excitement of violence bubbling through him as he makes his way to the fire escape. He ignores the protests from you and his friends, though the three of you follow him down. Billy chugs the rest of his beer once he’s on the ground, tossing the empty can and puffing his chest up as he stalks over to the guy.

Billy’s in shape, he spends a lot of time lifting weights but that’s not what makes him dangerous. It’s the fact that he doesn’t really give a shit and all the pent up anger from the abuse he faces. The guy he nailed with his phlegm is bigger but Billy doesn’t seem scared. He yells out, fists clenched tight at his sides as they meet face to face. Billy’s grinning wide, he always looks so happy when he’s about to get in a fight. It fucking worries you.

The guy swings first but Billy dodges it and then his fist is connecting with the dudes jaw with a horrific pop. The guy reels, like he wasn’t expecting so much power behind a teenagers fist. He stumbles but is back quick, socking Billy in the face and you wince, knowing that he’ll have one helluva shiner.

Billy laughs, “Is that all you got, fucker?”

Another punch and the guys on the ground but Billy’s on him in an instant, delivering blow after blow to the guys face before Reggie’s pulling him off.

“Fuck!” he screams out, eyes lit up with something that terrifies you. He enjoys this too much. You reach for his wrist and pull, dragging him along as the four of you run down the block. The dudes knocked out but his friends chase after you guys. They’re not fast enough and you lose them after cutting through an alley and ending up in a deserted plot of land. It’s mostly dirt but the occasional construction debris. There used to be a motel here but it’s got plans to become yet another parking lot. Billy screams out again, cheeks split with a devious smile.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” you yell at him, pushing against his chest. He turns to you with that eerie smile and you notice his nose is bleeding.

“That was fucking rad, darling,” he gushes, “I totally knocked his fucking lights out!”

“It wasn’t rad!” you argue, “God damn you’re such a fucking child sometimes!”

Billy laughs, but it’s laced with venom, “And you’re fucking boring.”

The word hits you hard, breaking your heart in an instant. You sniffle, pissed off with yourself that you’re crying so easily. Billy could be mean, to everyone around him. You knew that when you started dating. But it still hurts. You wanted to be an exception to that, but you realize how foolish that was.

“You’re fucking crying?” he scoffs, “Jesus Christ.”

You turn on your heel and start walking, Cindy me Reggie are quick to follow you but when you’re a block away and you turn back, Billy’s not following you. He’s wandered in the other direction.

///.

Billy finds the spare key under the mat and tries his absolute best to keep quiet as he unlocks the door. Susan should’ve got his dad to bed by this hour but he doesn’t want to risk it. He slowly opens the door, stepping inside and unzipping his boots before taking them off and leaving them by the door. He peers into the living room. Shit. Neil isn’t in bed. It’s nearly two a.m., he and Susan must’ve had an argument. Billy closes the door as quietly as he can before turning the deadbolt. He tiptoes to his room, turning the knob cautiously. Once he’s inside, he flicks the light on and starts to undress. He opens his closet and grabs out a pair of grey sweats to change into. As he’s changing, he looks into the mirror, seeing the dried blood under his nose and the beginnings of a gnarly bruise under both eyes. He presses his thumb to the bridge of his nose and hisses. It’s not broken but fuck, it hurts. He sighs. He needs to clean it up. Billy desperately needs a shower but it’s too late. He’d definitely wake his dad.

Carefully, he sneaks out of his room and into the hallway bathroom. He flicks the light on and gets a better look at his face. Billy barely recognizes himself. It’s a problem he’s been having for years. He knows that’s his face staring back at him but he can’t help but feeling like he doesn’t know his reflection. Like the icy blue eyes staring back at him belong to a stranger. He quietly cleans the blood from under his nose but when he opens the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush, a slew of pill bottles and soaps fall out of it and land into the sink with a loud clatter. Max had probably haphazardly shoved her things inside. Billy closes his eyes and shuts off the light, steadying his breathing and tries to hear for a sign that he’s woken his father up.

Footsteps, loud ones clamber up the hallway and Billy braces himself. He hates this house, there’s no lock on the bathroom. There’s no locks on any doors besides the master bedroom. The door swings open and the light is switched on. Billy’s met with the angry face of his father.

“What in gods name are you doing at this hour?” Neil asks, tone cloaked in outrage. “Did you just get home?”

“No sir,” Billy replies, voice cracking.

Neil surveys his face, “You reek of pot, boy.”

Billy doesn’t respond to that, just stares blankly at his domineering father. There’s no point. He definitely smells like weed and no matter what he’d say, the next row of actions is a guarantee. Neil shoves him into the towel rack, the edge of it nicks Billy’s bare back and he can feel the blood drip down. He keeps still, looking stoically up at his dad. Neil backhands him, Billy’s face turns with the force of it and Neil grabs his throat, shoving him harder into the rack which just scraps Billy’s back up more.

“You have no regard for anyone but yourself. We’ve talked about this, huh? Respect and responsibility. Simple shit, but you’re too fucking stupid or selfish to learn,” Neil hisses.

His fathers grip tightens just enough where Billy struggles to breath but he knows his dad’s too pussy to actually kill him. He chokes out a sob, can’t help himself even if he knows it’ll only piss Neil off more. Another smack to the face, another shove into the rack and Neil knees him in the stomach.

“You’re crying? You goddamn pussy. Man up!”

From the ground, Billy seethes. He knows this will seal his fate and he’ll be forced into makeshift solitary confinement but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s overflowing with hatred for the man towering over him.

“Fuck you,” he says behind clenched teeth.

Neil kicks him once more before grabbing a fistful of Billy’s curls and pulling him back to his feet. His dad looks him square in the face before head butting him. The sharp jolt of pain rings through him, his eyebrow feels hot and then Billy feels blood before he sees it when it drips into his eye. Neil drags him by his hair, through the hall and kicks Billy’s door open, the wood slamming into the plaster of the wall and no doubt leaving a hole from the doorknob. He shoves his son into the room.

“You’re goddamn worthless. I give and give but you refuse to fucking be respectful. You’re grounded, I’ll let you out when I can look at you again. Goddamn faggot,” he spits and slams the door back closed, Billy can hear as he fastens the chain lock he’s drilled into the outside of Billy’s door.

Billy holds his sobs, reaching for whatever material is closest to him on the floor and holds the dirty t-shirt to the split in his eyebrow. He falls asleep on the floor like that.

When he wakes up, the t-shirt has fused to his face with the dried blood and he’s reminded of the beating as he peels it off. Except it opens the wound back up and he groans, pressing a clean part of the shirt back to it. His heads pounding, his whole body aches. As he stands up to look in the mirror, he sees the bruising taking place on his stomach and ribs. His face is bruised but not from his dad. He’s too scared to look at his eyebrow, the pulsing pain and blood tells him he definitely needs stitches and he’ll be ending up with a gnarly scar instead. He peers out of his window to see Neil’s truck and Susan’s station wagon aren’t in the driveway but he can hear someone’s out in the living room. His throat burns and his mouth feels like it’s got cotton in it. Glancing around the room, he sees he’s got no water stashed away. Max.

Billy sighs, trudging over to the door and opening it as much as the chain lock will allow.

“Max,” he calls out, voice hoarse and fucking pathetic but his step sister is quick to run down the hall. Billy can see her red hair flying before he can see her blue eyes looking up at him. “Water, can you get me some water?”

She nods and disappears. Billy lays on his bed, closing his eyes while he waits. He hears the stool slam against the floor and he sits up, waiting for Max to climb up it so she can reach the lock. Once she does, she scoots the stool again and opens the door. She hands him the tall glass of water and he gulps it down in record time. He extends it out to her, “More?”

Max nods but she takes longer to return this time. Billy sees why when she’s holding the first aid kid they store under the bathroom sink. Billy gives her a half-hearted smile, she can be a little shit but she does care. It makes Billy feel weird, his initial instinct is to push her away and say he’s fine but he doesn’t. He lets her set the first aid kit on his bed and open it, she pulls out the peroxide and grabs the shirt from his face. She bunches it up against his eye and pours the peroxide on the wound on his eyebrow. It tingles but the sting is dull. She pats it dry before digging through the box for butterfly bandages. They stay silent as she dresses the wound. She’s a smart little fucker, Billy hadn’t even thought about asking for the first aid kit. She stands back and puts her finger against her chin, checking over her work before nodding to herself.

“Quick,” she says, “Use the bathroom before they get home.”

Billy nods, he hadn’t thought of that either. He stands and puts his hand on the top of her head, rustling her hair up. “Thanks, kiddo,” he mumbles before trudging into the bathroom.

As he steps inside, the events from last night flash around in his head but he pushes them away. He lifts the lid on the toilet and relieves himself. When he’s washing his hands he gets a good look at his reflection in the fluorescent lighting. He looks like shit. He aches for a shower but that’s too risky plus he’s not looking forward to the cuts on his back stinging from the water. He dries his hands and makes his way back to his room, where Max is waiting outside the door. Once he’s inside, he can hear her fastening the lock back up and jumping off the stool. Billy decides to tidy his room while he’s stuck in here, pressing play on his stereo so he can drown his thoughts in heavy guitar riffs and Vince Niel’s voice. After his rooms all clean, he shuts off the stereo and looks for a book to read to pass the time. He has no idea how long he’ll be trapped in here. Sometimes it’s a day, sometimes it’s a week.

///.

You haven’t heard from Billy in two days. It’s been two days since your little fight in the field and you’re getting worried. Billy was pretty adamant about you not coming over unannounced but the landline has been giving you nothing but a busy tone every time you try to call. You’re out of options and that’s why you take the bus out into the suburb and walk to his place. Neil’s truck is outside, along with his stepmoms car but you’re determined to check on him.

The wood of the door is warm on your knuckles as you scrap against it. Thankfully, Susan answers the door but her face falls and he looks back into the house before meeting your eyes.

“Billy’s not here,” she says.

“Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days,” you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“He’s out looking for a job,” it’s a lie. You can see it on her face. Susan’s a horrible liar, just like Max is.

You chew on your bottom lip before trying your luck, “Bummer. He must be mad at me still. Could I use your bathroom? Long bus ride out here.”

Susan heaves a sigh before stepping back and letting you inside, “Be quick.”

“Course,” you say and start making the descent down the hall.

“He’s not here!” Neil yells after you which causes you to stop, the sound of his voice always makes your skin crawl.

“I know, just using the bathroom,” you reply, eyes turning to Billy’s bedroom door in the hallway. The chain lock is fastened and your heart sinks into your stomach. You know Billy’s been trapped in there for days. He’s never told you this happens to him but when you’d noticed the lock, you connected the dots.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as you try to somehow telepathically communicate with your boyfriend. You so desperately want to call CPS on Neil but the first time Billy admitted his dad hit him, he made you promise and swear that you wouldn’t. Billy assured you he could handle it, that he didn’t want to be stuck in the foster system. I only have 5 more years, you remember him telling you. With a sigh, you finally sit down on the toilet and relieve yourself. It was a long bus ride. After washing your hands, you make your escape.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Hargrove,” you call out to Neil, hoping Billy can hear you and know you’re here.

“Whatever,” Neil mumbles with a wave of his hand.

///.

Once it’s midnight, you figure it’s safe and you stalk over to the window with the black grocery bag tucked tight against your side. The windows have bars on them, you’ve overheard Susan calling them decorative but they’re definitely a safety precaution, to ward off potential burglars. You can’t help but think about the way they make Billy’s room just that much more of a prison. God, if you could save him from this shit you would. This is the least you could do.

The bars are far enough apart that you can reach your arm through it. You quietly knock against it and step back to wait for your boyfriend to appear behind the sheet he uses as a curtain.

Billy snakes himself between the sheet and the window, his eyebrow is slit open and there’s some gnarly bruising under his eyes. You give him a sympathetic smile, lifting the plastic bag. Billy opens the window slowly, careful not to make too much noise.

“Hey, little lady,” he purrs, laying the charm on thick even though he’s a goddamn prisoner in his own fucking house. “What’re you doing here?”

You smile at him, you’ve found it’s best if you act like everything’s normal, “Wanted to give you some goodies and see your face. I miss you.”

“I miss you,” he reaches out and pokes your nose. “Whatcha get me?”

Peeking into the bag, you pull out the Mickey’s 40 you’d purchased and hand it over. Billy moans at the can, grinning from ear to ear. Next you hand him a pack of Marlboro Reds and he gives you another moan.

“Fuck, I could marry you,” he takes the pack and rips it open, lighting a smoke immediately.

You bite your lip, “Do it.”

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against the metal bars, “Maybe one day I will. Then you’ll really be sorry.”

You giggle softly and pull out a pack of sour candies for him. He places them down on his floor and smiles at you, “Think we could manage a kiss through these?” his fingers tapping against the bars.

“We could try,” you suggest, stepping closer and smiling up at him.

You manage to touch your lips to his but it’s wildly uncomfortable and you both strain your lips to do it. Billy sits on the sill and reaches his hand out to hold yours.

“Sorry about the other night… I was being a dickhead but hey,” he motions to his face, “got my punishment for it.”

“Billy,” you squeeze his hand, “You didn’t deserve that. You never do… I don’t even care about the dumb fight we had.”

He shrugs but moves his hand to your chin, stroking his thumb against it, “It’s nothing new. I shouldn’t have come home that night but ya know, I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ran off like that…”

“It’s cool, I’ll probably get a sick ass scar from this one,” he points to his eyebrow.

You shake your head but smile at him.

“You really gave it to my old man today,” he grins.

You cackle, “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah! I think the kindness kills him more than if you were to ignore him. How’d you get into the house, though?” he takes a long drag from his smoke before handing it over.

You take it and smile, “I told Susan I had to pee.”

“Oh!” his eyes widen and he disappears behind the sheet again, only to reappear with a Gatorade bottle full of what you can only assume is piss. “I know it’s gross but could you uh, dump this for me?”

You take it from him carefully and hand him back the cigarette, “Why don’t you just piss out the window, Billy?”

“In broad daylight? I can’t,” he says, sounding ashamed as you unscrew the cap and dump the bottle out into the bushes next to you. You screw the lid back on and hand it back through the bars.

“I fucking hate your dad,” you mumble.

“You and me both, babe,” he goes back behind the curtain to put the bottle back. When he returns, he’s got a folded up piece of paper and he passes it to you. “I drew ya something, don’t look at it until you’re far away from me.”

You giggle and slide it into your back pocket, “Can we try another one of those kisses?”

Billy chuckles, nods and you guys attempt it again. When he pulls back, he wiggles his eyebrows, “You could probably suck my dick through here.”

“You wanna attempt that but you won’t pee out the window,” you raise an eyebrow but smile back at him. “I’m not gonna blow you through your window. Nice try though.”

Billy laughs and pokes your nose, “I better get to bed. I’m sure I’ll be released soon enough and I can maybe take you out or something.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile warmly at him.

“A thank you for the necessities,” he holds up the beer and pack of smokes.

I’d do anything for you, you want to say but it dies in your throat. Billy doesn’t really get mushy with you so you’ve been scared to tell him just how infatuated with him you are. Sometimes he’s like a skittish dog and you feel you haven’t completely earned his trust yet.

“Stay safe, Billy.”

“Eh, that’s no fun. See ya later, little lady,” he smirks with the pet name before closing his window.

As you begin your journey down the street, you remember the paper folded up in your pocket and you quickly pull it out. Unfolding it, you see lines but you’re confused. Once it’s completely unfolded you see a crude drawing of a penis. Actually, it looks like Billy’s laid his dick on the paper and traced around it. It’s the most ridiculous and hilarious thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t help the roar of giggles erupting from your chest. The image of him so utterly bored while he’s locked away and getting the idea to trace his hard dick against the paper is the funniest thing in the world to you. God, you adore him.