#van flip scene

[mechazushi]

Kafka Hibino

Kafka Hibino.... with visible salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka HIbino.... in that black turtleneck and a dark brown leather jacket and also wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing that outfit and is an Animal Biology Professor in an College Au.

Kafka Hibino..... asking out Hoshina who is an Advanced Mathematics Professor working at the same college, to have an after-work drink with him.

Slightly DRUNK Kafka Hibino... becoming very forward with an also slightly drunk Hoshina

Slightly Drunk Hoshina... immediately matching Kafka's freak tenfold and Kafka is very much fine with this.

[chirpsythismorning]

re Lettergate: Lettergate, but it's El's pre-spring break letter laying crumpled somewhere in Mike's room. Reminding him what El said about the painting. Making Mike wonder in a letter of mostly lies was the part about Will also one? Mike's gears spinning-> Why did Will have it at the airport not El? Why did Will bring it with him? Why wait to give it to him if it had been from her all along? What would make Will lie to him like that? Questions for both Mike and to some casual viewers to think about if they hadn't already. We know it doesn't add up and why, but does Mike?

Right?!?!? Like it's such a mind fuck.

I'm still not certain about that scene, and that's probably what I love about it so much.

I could see it being bunch of different scenarios.

Initially when s4 came out, I was very confident Mike didn't see Will crying. I even made this post about it that blew up, bc I could genuinely relate to Will's situation, where you're facing the window in the car, crying as quietly as you can in hopes that no will notice.

But then as time passed, I rewatched the scene more and I started to notice all of Mike's micro-expressions (the first time I watched it, I didn't notice any of them...), with him going from bright and happy upon thinking the painting for Will's crush (according to El), was actually for him, only for Will to say it was commissioned by El and with Mike now looking extremely confused.

I kind of take that first reaction as something the entire fandom overlooks, both ga and bylers. Because it's clear from the start of that moment Mike WANTS the painting to be for him from Will, and he's visibly relieved to find out it is, only to be visibly dejected when he finds out that it's not.

And like you said, then comes the uncertainty for Mike that this could have been just another thing El lied about in her letter, so him assuming Will was painting something for his crush might have not even based in reality in the first place?

Also, why would Will lie to him? Will never lies to him! At least not something as big as this. Which is why fans have acknowledged some of the notes from the score Being Different matching both parts of The First I love You and The First Lie. There is something sort of special about Mike just believing Will, and the importance of that being conveyed through that score basically. I do get that. Then again, Being Different is mostly Will's perspective on the situation at hand (and he's known to be an unreliable narrator). This is him saying I love you to Mike for the first time (veiled) and this is him also lying to him about something big for the first time.

But again, after rewatching that scene god knows how many times now, it's clear based on Mike's emotions throughout that he is having some sort of realization and conundrum.

In fact, he looks most emotional and effected when Will starts describing the situation of their relationship, not him and El's.

When Will starts talking about feeling different and like a mistake and how Mike makes him feel like he's none those things, we know that can't possibly apply to Mike and El's dynamic at all. In fact, we just saw that that was the whole reason for their big fight, with El being convinced Mike just saw her as a monster like everyone else, with him deflecting by saying she was a superhero, not acknowledging the core of the issue at all. This is something him and El never touch on again, face to face. All we have is their fight, them reuniting and saying they missed each other, followed by Mike jumping into saying much of what he said in their fight during his monologue, things that literally upset her last time (denying he never said I love you), mixed with some inspiration from Will, and with a dash of trauma bonding phrasing that would come off as romantic to the majority, but also arguably as platonic and yet just as meaningful. But the pressure of it being romantic is what made it so hard to watch, because we know Mike's heart is conflicted right now.

The issue I have with the interpretation that Mike didn't pick up on Will's feelings at all though, is that there is something so much more impactful than all of that stuff I have just said combined, and it's the whole I didn't say it/You didn't have to line. That was really beautiful exchange that sort of encapsulated their whole relationship, and so having that ring true in the moment when it mattered most? Epic.

It meant everything for Mike to read between the lines in the van scene, as it would have cemented this truth between them that the love they feel for each other doesn't need to be outright said, they just know based on how they make each other feel. Like that's the whole point.

And by the end of that scene, Mike looks like someone who understands.

When Will is emotional looking out the window talking about being a mistake, we get Mike out of focus in the background looking Will up and down very sympathetic. I don't know why he would have such strong indicators of feeling sympathy for an emotional Will, describing things that sound an awful lot like their circumstances, unless he somehow picked up on what Will was saying despite Will not outright saying it?

The way Mike literally looks stunned and amazed when Will starts rambling and saying things that word for word describe him and Will? Why would he react like that if he had absolutely no thoughts in his head?

Gonna be honest and say the most obvious reason he would figure out Will is lying, is that El does not know an iota about DND... Like she doesn't know anything. She would have to have asked Will to dig deep and do something personal for her to give to Mike... And that just feels like it would be a quick obvious indicator for Mike that this has to be how Will feel's if it's coming from his knowledge about all of it? That in and of itself makes me feel like Mike would easily come to that conclusion that this is Will's feelings for him and he goes from being happy to sad to happy again bc he is relieved that the truth is it is for him, even if neither of them can face it rn.

More than anything on the Mike and El front, I think Mike knows that El deserves so much more than being settled for, which is why he's having a hard time playing along for much longer.

I think he would have preferred they stay friends at the end of s3 with them having been that way for the last 3 months before the epilogue, but it's not like Mike could say no thanks? That wasn't an option in any shape/form. After everything El just went through, and everything she's done for him and his friends, how could Mike hear her say I love you, and reject that? The fact that he does care for her very much is what makes it so tragic that he is suffering and not allowing himself to open up about it, bc he feels like if he did, he would be selfish. It would be selfish to break it off when she wants to be together now and is approaching their relationship romantically, only for him to go against that. And so he plays the part, and he does it really unconvincingly...

As he is having these moments in s4, I think it is him sort of accepting something that he has just started to see as inevitable because it's not like he can hide from the truth forever. Unless he wants to be miserable like his parents, and clearly he is feeling the pressure to just go along with it, while also deep down wanting to reject it, and we see how that blows over in the end, with it being way worse than he ever imagined (apocalypse proportions? Like, Jesus Mike).

I will say, that as a boy that is still technically in a relationship with someone, Mike probably felt like he couldn't be like Yes Will, I like you back. The best he could do was give him a look that said that reassuringly and then try to process it. Him facing the truth in that moment was never an option while him and El still hadn't talked things over. Also him facing a crying Will, would have only made him cry himself arguably, meaning his only option was to sit there looking as emotionless as possible (rink-o-mania teas). I think what we have here is honestly a s3 ending parallel right in front of us but without us being able to see Mike's side of it. We've got Will and Mike and even Jonathan. Will cried hoping Jonathan wouldn't notice, but he did. Mike biked home and hugged his mom looking just heartbroken. But imagine those s3 shots with Mike out of focus? You probably wouldn't know for certain if he was sad or not? I honestly feel like if we had seen Mike in the van, he would have looked like he was holding back everything he could, making those parallels overlap perfectly.

Then after the van scene, Mike's reuniting with El again and he's saying I'm here I'm here and you can see it on his face, he's worrying too much about El again. He's worried that he's going to break her if things end romantically between them and as a result she won't be in his life anymore. That's not what he wants at all. But then his eyes search for Will and he's so conflicted, bc he literally just days ago confided in Will that he didn't want to do this anymore. And yet still, he doesn't want to hurt El, nor does he want to hurt Will. *enter explosion in the background behind Mike, followed by Argyle going AW SHIT AW SHIT AW SHIT as Will and El hug and Mike watches....*

Then Surfer Boy happens, and El is reaching to hold his hands and now she's saying she missed him. I imagine he was terrified that because of their fight, she wouldn't want him in her life anymore, and so he was relieved on that front. But then the pressure is back again. He's back to square one, at the end of s3 where he feels like the only way El will ever want him is romantically, and he has to fit that role in order to be in her life. Not only is it something he feels obligated to do to stay connected to El, but also it seems like the most safest option in the world he lives in. It's what is expected from everyone around him. It makes sense. So it doesn't really matter if Mike is having doubts or that now he's hopeful Will feels the same, he starts to second guess himself.

And this then leads to part ?/? of Mike stalling (2 scenes before this, Yuri gets called out for being a coward because of his stalling, all while he hides the truth about the stalling in his coat chest pocket...). Mike is yet again stalling because he can't find it in himself to be honest and tell El he doesn't love her and play along and lie for any longer, and yet he also can't tell the truth because that also terrifies him (which is that he knows he doesn't love El because he has those feelings for Will...)

He stalls until it's not an option anymore, regardless of how he feels about the whole situation. And Will is pushing him and telling him to do it and Mike looks heartbroken. I think in this moment he is feeling doubts about Will's feelings, but also I think he is mostly convinced both El and Will want to be with him, so he is having to choose in this moment to be selfless like Will in order to save El's life, putting what he perceives to be her happiness, above his own (a vicious cycle we have going on here).

Now, a large part of why I subscribe to this, is because of a lot of details that fit, but I have also touched on this next detail here. Basically, I think Mike went from thinking the painting was from Will initially, to thinking it was from El by the end of the season.

I think the scene at the hospital is when this major shift happens. When Lucas says that El saving Max was a miracle, I think this is when Mike starts to now believe that El does love him, and that apparently his words did work, and so therefore the painting had to commissioned by her, right? The scene starts with the painting in the background behind Will, but directly after the miracle drop, Mike quickly shares a look with him, only to slowly, nervously look over at El, confused and then almost sad, with the painting now in the background behind her.

And so now the question becomes, does Mike want to keep up this act (unconvincingly) with El? Or does he want to follow his heart?

You could say that the ending of s4 answers that question...

I think that this means that starting in s5, Mike will definitely still have mixed feelings and emotions about the painting, along with his perception of El and Will's feelings for him.

I think that it makes sense that he would be upset if he's being sort of whipped back and forth about the truth. Lying was like a big deal in s4 with him and El (along with the whole series in general), but I think it's going to be a lot more impactful and intense seeing that confrontation happening with Will and Mike. Not because Mike is going to hate him or be mean over it, but just sort of be more upset than anything else.

Is Mike maybe thinking that this could be a testament to the state of their relationship? That apparently Will's gotten to the point where he lies about something like this? It's going to be a lot to process seeing as he ended s4, for the first time, making an active choice to choose for himself instead of basing that choice on other peoples emotions.

Because apparently that is what happened isn't it? He literally ended s4 thinking the painting was commissioned by El and yet he still chose Will, also while now probably assuming he was wrong about Will's feelings and he doesn't actually feel the same.

Let that sink in.

Mike made that choice for the first time based on his own emotions and not others, even all while assuming it was going to be doomed...

I'm sort of proud honestly, because that's not an easy thing to do.

Being true to yourself and risking hurting and losing others is a scary thing. And it's also why they've got themselves in this situation in the first place, because all of them are sacrificing their own truth, under the assumption that this is what everyone wants.

It's tragically epic.

[upsidedownmvnson]

you can take it | eddie munson smut

summary: eddie gets jealous at a gig and reminds you exactly who you belong with :)

warnings: dacryphilia, just pure filth, rough sex, daddy kink, name calling in bed, jealous boyfriend, shy!reader, voyuerism

You really were innocent in the whole situation.

You were at The Hideout, watching your boyfriend Eddie perform. You sat alone at the bar, sipping on something sweet and fizzy the bartender made you, on the house.

Someone approached you, introducing himself as Eric. He didn't leave when you mentioned you had a boyfriend, but he didn't make any moves on you either, he was just speaking to you, so you didn't feel concerned about it.

The only rule you and Eddie had about hanging out with other people is as long as they're not into you, it's totally fine. Because usually, Eddie is a pretty level headed guy, especially when it comes to you. He loves you, and trusts that you love him, and only him.

However, there are a few people that push Eddie's buttons just by existing. You knew about Jason Carver, but who you didn't know about was Eric Heely, lead singer of Hotels of Fire, another band that frequents gigs at The Hideout. And an industrial pain in Eddie's ass.

And now, he was leaning against the bar talking to you while Eddie played the rest of his show.

And Eddie was getting pissed off.

He didn't like the idea of this guy talking to you, but what he really hated was that this guy was using you to get a rise out of him, and worse yet, it was fucking working. Eddie's neck was getting hot, and he'd long lost his usual grin. Instead, it was replaced with a tight scowl, a really annoyed grimace that probably would've signalled something was wrong if you would just look at Eddie.

But no, you were talking with Eric, sipping on your drink. He could tell from there that you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You saw the best in people, and if you had said you weren't interested, you would trust the other person to take that as an answer. But Eddie knew better. Eddie knew that Eric wasn't just trying to make a new friend, he was trying to ruin Eddie's night.

By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was far too late. Eddie had already decided that you needed to be taught a lesson.

And once you're in hell, only the devil can get you out.

You noticed Eddie's grimace, and put two and two together when you saw your new friend waving at Eddie, smug smile on his face.

"Do you know Eddie?" you asked, growing suspicious.

"Oh yeah," he said, making sure Eddie was looking at him before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We go way back."

You reacted quickly, getting out of your chair and smacking that guys hand away from you. You were clearly telling him off, but Eddie just wished you would get away from that guy.

Eddie, still not angry with you, was fuming. Eric had touched you. He touched you without your permission, and you felt uncomfortable, Eddie could see that. The music turned aggressive, and his bandmates could see the scene unfolding in front of them, and they didn't know what was going to happen.

After cutting the song short, Eddie announced their set was over.

His friends looked at each other questioningly, as there was still supposed to be another few songs, but they wrapped up anyway, unplugging their instruments and beginning to disassemble. Eddie threw the van keys to Gareth, and didn't say a word as he rushed over to 'save' you.

You met Eddie halfway, trying to assure him that you didn't do anything. Eric was behind you smirking at the damage he'd done to Eddie's mood.

"Baby," he cooed, rubbing your arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him." Eddie nodded over to Eric, and followed up by flipping him off. "Go over with Gareth, okay? I wouldn't trust this guy near your drink." Eddie plucked the beverage out of your hands, and while he doubted that Eric did anything to it, he just wasn't willing to risk it.

Eddie stormed over to Eric, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"If you ever lay your hands on her again, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will kill you."

"Death threats? Eddie, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? She was totally into it."

"If you interpret recoiling as into it, you're a predator." Eddie had to get out of here before he did something he would regret. Before he got the band barred from the only place they could find to play. "Stay away from us."

"Whatever, freak."

Eddie let go of Eric's shirt, turning on his heel and focusing on just getting back to you and calming down. Was he mad? Jealous? Pissed off? Yes, yes, and yes.

"Eddie?" you asked, as he approached you, but he didn't answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you close, closing the gap between you and laying a big, fat kiss on you in front of everyone. You melted into him, not really caring who saw. Eddie loved pda, always had, loved showing everyone that you were his, and he was yours.

Hid hands wrapped around your waist, holding you as he leaned into you, bending your back and forcing your chest into his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking in the intoxicating smell of him. Eddie, sweat covered and sexy.

"Eddie," you mumbled against his mouth, "let's pack up and just get out of here," you said, pulling away from him finally.

"Yeah," he agreed, "good idea."

And you could see the fire in his eyes. You could feel the way he tried to push into you. You were in trouble, but you weren't scared, you were excited.

"Are you ready to help us pack up?" Jeff asked, "or would you just like us to watch you make out some more."

"No one was forcing you to watch," Eddie said, his tone level and casual. None of his usual joking manner. "I'll bring the van around."

Eddie pulled you behind him. He wouldn't be letting you alone with that guy fucking lurking around. You were guided out the back door, and through the dark parking lot behind the bar. Eddie always parked in the same corner, far enough away from the door where he could secure a quick deal or two during his shows.

Even through the rage, you thought he was being a perfect gentleman by opening the passenger side door for you, but you should've known better. In this mood, you should've expected him to be dirty, dirty, dirty...

When you moved to get in, he pushed you down, bending you over the seat. With your ass in the air, he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees, immediately smacking your ass three fast times. It stung, the sudden intrusion of pain was a delightful surprise. He groped your ass for a second, mumbling something about it being his.

"I fucking love this ass," he muttered, sliding his fingers down through your already soaking wet folds. "And this pussy."

Two rough fingers found your clit, rubbing small, quick circles around the little bud.

"I need to get you home," he said, plunging those fingers inside you. "Like, right now."

"We should h-help pack up," you said, only to be met with another smack on your ass from his free hand. He wasn't holding you down, you could've easily asked him to stop and he would've. But you didn't want to. And he knew that.

"Just need a minute," he said, falling to his knees. The concret scraped his knees, but he didn't care. He needed this to calm down. Then he could go pack up and get you home and deal with the rest of his frustrations. "Jus' a little taste," he whispered, leaning forward and diving into your pussy like it was the cure to all his problems. Which it kind of was, honestly.

One hand was gripping your thigh, right where it met your ass, holding it open so he could lick, and suck and just taste you. The other hand, slid around you to rub slow circles on your clit again, but not enough to get you off. He didn't want to overwhelm you already, and he definitely didn't want you to cum yet.

"Eddie," you moaned, biting your hand to keep quiet. "They're waiting for us."

"Don't care," he mumbled, continuing to eat you out, right there in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something here in the parking lot, but it was the first time where you weren't hidden inside the van.

"Eddie," you moaned, as he licked up your slit and dipped into your tight little hole with his tongue, before pulling away entirely, letting the cool breeze blow across your wet centre, and you whined, wishing he would continue. He laughed, leaving your clit behind to grip both your ass cheeks in his calloused hands, the rough fingers felt amazing against your soft skin. He bit one of your ass cheeks, and kissed the other. And then slapped both at the same time.

And you got ready for him to fuck you. But instead he tucked his erection into the band of his jeans, and pulled your panties back up. He fixed your skirt, and then guided you to sit in the van.

"You're so good," he mused, his bad mood already lessening. "So beautiful."

You blushed, suddenly bashful about what he'd done.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here," he said, closing the passenger door and rushing around to the front. He drove to the otherside of the lot, completely unfazed by his voyeuristic tendencies.

The guys were already moving stuff outside, and leaving it by the backdoor.

"We were afraid to come over there," Gareth joked, loading stuff into the back. He found it even funnier when he caught the blush creeping over your neck and cheeks. He didn't say anything else about it. But he knew that there was some truth to it all.

"Just hurry up," Eddie said, impatience catching up with him. "I'm in a bad mood, I just fucking hate that guy."

"Yeah, that guy is a dick." Gareth shook his head. "But it's not like she would've let him do anything."

"Obviously," he muttered, and closed the back of the door. "It pisses me off that he would even try to use her like that though, like she's less of a person. It's just, it's gross."

"It is gross," he agreed. "Well, we're out of here. I think I'll catch a ride with Jeff. You seem, uh... busy."

"I think that's for the best."

The drive home was silent, except for the radio playing quietly between you. Eddie's hand gripped your thigh, tightly, possessively. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to fuck you. All the ways he was going to make you cum. All over his face, his cock, his fingers. He couldn't think about anything else. He loathed the idea that Eric probably thought he could get with you. It made it him fucking furious. The more he stewed about it, the more angry he got.

It was time to remind you that there was no one on Earth that could fuck you like he can.

He trusted you fully, but he was going to remind you anyway.

"Eddie?" you asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm sure, my love." He traded his grip on your thigh for your hand, which he brought to his lips to place several chaste kisses to your knuckles. It was sweet how much you cared about his feelings, and boundaries. "I just need to make sure you're properly fucked. I've been fucking you softly lately, and I love that," he smiled, and you were blushing, the topic of conversation making you bashful, "but it's time for Daddy to really fuck your brains out."

"Eddie!"

"Time to make my little mouse cum again and again," he continued, "until you're screaming and begging me to stop." He continued to kiss your hand as he spoke, "but you won't want me to stop, not really."

"Don't be dirty," you whispered, shy about the way he was speaking to you. But you loved it. You were soaking wet, clenching your thighs together, thinking about all the ways Eddie would have you. All the ways you would totally and fully give yourself to him.

"Oh baby," he cooed, "tonight we will be filthy, and I think," he let go of your hand, "I'll start now."

And with that he slipped his hand between your thighs, pushing them open. He wasted no time in grabbing your panties, yanking them over to the side and slipping his fingers between your folds.

"So fucking wet," he moaned, slipping a finger inside you, "and so fucking tight." He groaned, taking the finger out and popping it into his mouth. "And sweet."

You were breathing heavily, so turned on by how Eddie was acting. He'd dominated you before, but this was different. Like he was trying to prove something. He was trying to prove to himself that he was the right one for you, that he was the one you wanted and needed.

"I want you to be good for me tonight," he said, moving back between your legs and fingering you again. This time with two thick fingers, and his thumb on your clit. He knew everything by feel, his eyes never left the road. He knew where to touch, and what to do to please you. "Just do what I say and you'll be rewarded."

"Okay," you whispered, speechless at what was going on. You pulled your knee up onto the passenger side door to give him more access to you. To let him in deeper.

"Good girl," he cooed, "off to a good start."

He removed his hand again, and you whined at the loss of contact, but he shut you up by sticking his fingers into your mouth. "Taste that, honey? It's my favourite thing in the world." He kept his fingers in your mouth for a moment, until he felt your tongue swirl around the digits. "You're gunna suck my cock as soon as we get inside your house, and you're not gunna stop until I tell you to stop."

You nodded, and he pulled his fingers out, returning to gripping your thigh like at the start. You were throbbing, thinking 'please touch me again,' over and over and over in your head until you were sure he knew what you were thinking, because his smug smirk returned.

"Look at you, fucking begging for it, looking at me like that isn't gunna be enough, doll. You're not calling the shots tonight."

"Can I suck your cock now?" you asked, and he smiled.

"No," he said. "Keep your hands to yourself."

And suddenly your hands were magnets, and he was what they were attracted to. You wanted to touch him, to play with his hair, or his jacket. Touch his thighs, or any piece of exposed skin you could find. You needed him. You wanted him to be inside you, anyway possible. The lay restlessly on your lap, just keening to touch him.

You clenched your thighs together again, and Eddie tutted at you. "Don't do that, your pleasure is all for me tonight."

"Eddie..." you whined, hiking your leg up higher, trying to entice him to return to his work between your legs. But he didn't budge, just smirked as you whined and writhed in his passenger seat. He loved it like this, he liked how fucking feral you got for him.

And he especially loved how smug it made him when one of the guys sat in that seat, knowing all the dirty things he'd done to you in this van.

He killed the engine, parking crooked in your driveway. No one was home, it was a recipe for a perfect night.

"Don't even have to be quiet," he mused, "you're really in for it, little mouse."

And you were quick to exit the van, and excitedly head into the house. You were only a few steps in, leaning on the wall and trying to kick your shoes off when Eddie slammed the front door, grabbing your hand and turning you back around to him.

"I said 'as soon as we get inside'," and he pulled you down until you feel on your knees. "I didn't say take anything off."

He pushed your face into his bulge, the jean rubbing against your cheek, and the zipper cold on your nose.

You undid his belt above you, fumbling because you couldn't really see it. You pulled it through the loops, and he grabbed it from you before you could discard it.

"Take my pants off," he muttered, letting go of your hair. And you obeyed, tongue tied and soaking wet. Throbbing in your panties. Eddie had never been like this. And you wanted more. You wanted more than you knew.

While you worked on his jeans, he wrapped the belt around your neck. Not to choke you, but to hold it there, as if it was a promise. A promise to keep you in line. You sucked your lip into your mouth, salivating at the sight of his dick springing to life, free from the confines of his ripped jeans. His sexy, sexy ripped jeans.

You started teasingly, licking the underside of his dick slowly, but he yanked the belt, causing it to tighten ever so slightly. "I said, suck my dick!" he raised his voice, annoyed that he had to repeat himself a third time.

You whimpered, putting the tip in your mouth, and he thrusted into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat as you choked and gagged.

"If you want to stop at any point just tap twice or say Atari," he said, a softer tone taking over for a moment, he pulled back a bit, making you look up at him, "tap twice now if you understand."

You tapped his leg twice, and then you gagged on his dick as he thrusted it down your throat again. "Good girl," he muttered, dick twitching at the view he had. Belt wrapped around your throat like a leash, tears filling your eyes and his dick hit the back of your throat. You didn't even have to move, because Eddie couldn't control himself from grabbing your hair, and guiding you to suck his dick exactly how he wanted it.

Eddie was fucking your face, a foot from the front door. If anyone came onto the porch they'd hear the wet squelching of Eddie thrusting into your mouth, or the coughing caused by the intrusion.

"That's fucking unreal, little mouse," he muttered, throwing his head back and his continued gripping your hair by the roots, moving your head up and down on his thick cock. "You take daddy so well."

Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of your ignored pussy, while Eddie takes his pleasure. "You look so pretty like this," he said, returning his attention to you. Tears made their escape down your cheeks, dragging your mascara with them.

He gave the belt some slack, and you backed off of him, sucking in a few big gulps of air.

"I didn't know you could take it so good, baby," he cooed, "Daddy's good little slut."

You nodded eagerly, not sure if you were allowed to talk or not. You leaned forward to take him back in your mouth, doing everything you had been before, but without Eddie's guiding hand, you did it yourself, shoving his cock to the back of your throat where you coughed and gagged around him.

His groans were delightful. Eddie moans were music, filling you you with pride and desire. You pulled away again for some more air, and he looked at you with a devilish smirk.

"Come up here," he said, yanking on the belt, forcing you back to your feet.

The belt dangled when he let it go, and he just looked at you for a second. Your hair was messy, cheeks covered in wet makeup, puffy lips, belt hanging loosely around your neck, and glossy eyes that made Eddie swoon, for just a moment. And then he smirked, rubbing his thumbs across your cheek, trying to remove some of the mascara, but he just smudged it more. He smiled.

"Did you like that?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were liking this otherside of him. You nodded. "Why don't you bend of that couch over there? Hmm? Show daddy that ass he loves so much."

You did as he asked, bending yourself over the armrest of the couch. Irritated by all the clothes still on, but Eddie said not to take anything off, and you wanted to be his good girl. Even your sneakers were still on.

You looked behind at him, and he had taken all his clothes off, and was roughly palming his cock in his hand. One finger looped around your panties, yanking them down your legs and off, landing somewhere on the floor. He winked at you, making you blush. He gripped your ass tightly, his thumb linger dangerously close to your asshole.

He spread you open, slapping his cock against your asshole a couple times, mumbling, "I'll have to give this tight little hole a try sometime..." but he slid down to the wet, sopping hole of your pussy, testing the readiness of it by slipping the tip in. Your pussy basically sucked him in, begging him to give it to you. "So fucking wet and ready baby, so fucking good for me."

Instead of fucking you like you desperately needed, he just popped the tip in and out a couple times, spreading your wetness down to your clit and up to your ass.

And then he was lined up to your pussy again, holding himself at your hole, and you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, glossy eyes begging for him.

"Why so quiet, little mouse? I want to hear you," he said, moving his cock down to your clit again, and then right back up to your centre.

"Please," you begged, voice breaking with anticipation.

"Please what?"

"Please... please fuck me Daddy," you begged, "please fuck me, I've been so good, I want it. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" you begged.

And in one swift movement he grabbed the belt again, yanking it tight, constricting your throat just enough for you to feel the threat of choking, and also thrusting himself fully inside you. You screamed at the sudden invasion, but it felt so fucking good. The belt slightly constricting you, forcing your head back, and Eddie suddenly balls deep inside you made you scream you loved it so much. His other hand gripped your ass, the skirt bunching up in his palm.

Like how he treated your face, he was roughly fucking into you, each pump going all the way out before slamming back in. Each move was calculated, your head being forced back felt... so fucking good. He slapped your ass, flipping your skirt up.

You muttered unintelligible syllables, just grunts and moans as he took all of you.

You were taking him so well, your pussy was gripping him so tightly. Fuck, Eddie couldn't take it, but he didn't want to cum yet. Didn't want it to end.

You were breathing heavy, getting close to finishing, and Eddie could feel it. He knew the signs of your orgasm, and right when you were about to fall off that edge, he stopped entirely, pulling out and letting your orgasm shatter to pieces, not giving you any sense of relief. Instead, you were left with a painful thump in your clit.

Eddie touched it slowly and softly, giving nowhere near enough to coax you back to your orgasm, but enough to soothe the throbbing of neglect your poor pussy felt.

You whined, trying to push yourself back on him, and it made him chuckle. You looked so desperate for him. You wanted him. And Eddie finally got back his confidence that he was the only one for you. A fact you'd never doubted.

He loosened the belt, taking it off completely, and flipped you over, so you were standing again, leaning back against the couch. He moved your hair out of the way to make sure he didn't do any damage, and he didn't. It was just a little red, with a few small marks where the edges had rubbed into you. But he'd never pulled it tight enough to hurt you.

And then his movements were caring, just for a moment, just enough time to slide off your skirt, and then your shirt and bra. He slowly undressed you, stroking his cock slowly. He worshipped your body, hands dragging slowly across all newly exposed skin.

"So fucking pretty, baby," he said, "and you take it so well, who knew you had this kind of ... perseverance?"

"I want to cum," you pouted, "and I want you to fuck me full."

Eddie's eyes widened at your words, and his usual cheeky grin returned. "Oh, baby, you don't even know what you're asking for," he groaned, biting his bottom look as he took in your disheveled appearance.

"Yes, I do," you challenged, "please?"

And he pushed you back, letting you fall onto the couch cushions. And you crawled backwards as he climbed over the couch, stalking up your body like you were his prey.

He wedged himself in between your thighs, lining him up with your pussy and shoving it back in, hitting every part of you. He stayed still inside you, every inch of him covered with you. And he kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue, teeth, with his hands. He was all over you, covering every sense and taking the attention of all your thoughts.

"I love you," he muttered, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered.

"Good," he smirked, "now take it."

And he was thrusting into you like he didn't love you at all. Hitting every part of you that was only for him to hit. Each slap of his hips hitting into your thighs hurt, but only in the most pleasurable way. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him, trying to somehow bring him in harder, deeper.

One hand by your head, holding him up, the other latching around your throat as he kissed you, all tongues and sloppy. the only sounds being the squelching of your painfully wet pussy and your tiny whimpers, being lost in his mouth.

"I want you to cum," he said, pulling himself away from your mouth, keeping his eyes locked onto your as you moaned under him, breathless and sweaty. "Now, I want you to cum now," he said, angling himself differently, and thrusting harder, hitting you in a spot that made you feel like you were gunna explode.

You were going to explode, especially when he ordered, "touch yourself, make yourself cum."

Like a good girl, you rubbed small circles over your clit, helping him bring yourself back to that ledge you so desperately wanted to jump off.

Your walls tightened around him, and it was different. It was different than every other time. You were chanting his name, moaning "Eddie," over and over until you came, screaming his name and feeling elecricity down to your toes. Every part of you was on fire, and your muscles tightened, pulling him in closer while you squirted, for the very first time, soaking Eddie and the couch, pushing him out of your pussy.

He moved quickly, putting two fingers roughly inside you and moving them with ferocity as he coaxed you through the biggest orgasm you'd ever had. You screamed, loudly, honestly worrying Eddie that the neighbours would hear, so he clamped another hand over your mouth, keeping the noise contained. Your muffled screams just coaxed him to an orgasm on their own, he was sure of it.

He had been close to his climax, but this new change of events was okay with him. He could've cum just from knowing how well he satisfied you.

Your heavy breathing continued for a minute, and in a cock drunk state you looked at him, smiling stupidly while he just watched you, still softly fingering you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"I made you squirt," he said, stupid, goofy grin all over his face. He continued stroking his fingers in you.

"You didn't cum," you pouted, looking at his still rock hard cock.

"Guess we'll have to just start all over again, pretty petal, but why don't we get you some water first."

And before you understood what was happening, two were standing in the kitchen, Eddie bending you over the counter and slipping his cock back inside you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, and to get his fingers back on you clit. Your back pressed into his chest, and he pumped into you slowly.

"More," you muttered, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Hmm," he mused, grinning down at the sight of your ass slapping against his abdomen. "I don't know if you can take it..."

"I can," you whined, trying to fuck yourself harder on his cock, but his arms restricted you, not letting you take what you wanted.

"Tell me you can take it," he said, "convince me that you can take it."

And you wriggled free of his grip, climbing onto the counter and laying on your back. Eddie watched with a grin on his face, as you spread your legs wide for him, angling yourself at the perfect height for him to ravage you again. He took his place between your thighs, and rubbed himself up and down on your pussy.

"I can take it," you promised, "I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, continuing to slide his tip through your juices, leaving a trail down to your asshole. He popped the tip into your pussy, pulling it out almost immediately.

"Please," you whined, "please fuck me, I can take it. I love it, I want you to hurt me. I want you to fuck me until you fuck me full of your cum. I want you to take it all out on me," you begged, staring straight into his eyes.

"Dirty little mouse," he said. He loved when you broke out of your shell. When you could talk about all your dirty desires with him. "Let's go to bed," he said, wicked smile ever present. "I want to ruin you on those cute pink sheets of yours."

He took your hand, helping you off the counter, like a gentlemen, and then followed you to your room.

"On your knees on the bed," he said as soon as you got in the room. You you crawled on, ass in the air over the edge of the bed, shaking your ass the perfect spot for him to come take you, he did just that, walking up behind you and thrusting two of his fingers into your hole. You moaned, and he moved them aggressively, hitting that delicious spot roughly over and over, and over.

"I'm gunna fuck you full, alright." He was mumbling behind you, working his fingers quickly, hitting your g-spot like he own it and twirling circles around your clit. "Just gotta make you cum again real quick, and then I'm gunna fuck you totally full of my babies." He grinned, turned on by the imagery of you, all round and pregnant with his baby. Maybe one day...

You were getting close again, your arms buckled and you fell onto your chest, your cheek squishing into the soft duvet Eddie loved so much.

It was too much, he knew you too well. You couldn't resist if you wanted to. You moaned knowing he was right, he was going to make you cum again, quickly and with ease. His tongue poked out in complete concentration, followed by a smile as he felt you tighten up. Standing up, he kept the circles on your clit going, but quickly switched out his fingers for his cock, angling himself until he felt your g-spot again.

You screamed again, muffling yourself in the blankets. And the feeling of his big dick penetrating you when you were that close, made you come undone again, you came around his cock, clenching him so tightly he threw his head back in pleasure.

He moved away from your clit, letting his dick be your only guide through another orgasm, and he was back to gripping your ass. He fucking loved that ass. He spanked it, gripped it, held it open, and then out of nowhere he leaned forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up, and holding it taut so you were forced to stay on your hands. You moaned, the pain was just another sensation of pleasure.

"You stay like that baby, looks so fucking good." He groaned, his dick twitching inside you, he was close. He wanted to cum so fucking bad, he needed the relief.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the pleasure so great that you couldn't contain it. Couldn't even speak. Eddie fucked you stupid, and you didn't want him to stop. You wanted to be ruined by him. You wanted him to take total claim of you, marking you as his for the rest of forever.

"So fucking good -" he grunted, thrusting harder into you, hitting the back wall with every thrust, making sure to hit you with his full length everytime. "So fuck tight baby, you're so fucking tight. That's all for me, yeah? Just for me," he mumbled, thumb poking into your asshole, and you moaned.

"For you," you muttered weakly, pathetically. You could barely get the words out, the new sensation of his fingers proding a new hole made your pussy tighten again.

"I think I can get you there one more time, huh? What do you say, puppet? Cum for daddy one more time?"

You nodded, feeling like you were close already. He let go of your hair and you leaned forward, arching your back as much as possible to give him even more access to you. He spread your ass open so he could see it all. Watch as he pummeled your little pussy.

"Gunna c.." you moaned, "gunna please."

"What's that? I don't know what you're saying down there baby."

"I'm g-gunna fuck," you whined, "it's- again."

"What're you? Stupid? Use your words, baby, tell me," he cooed, egging you on when he knew damn well what you were saying, and your walls became impossibly tight around him.

"I'm gunna cum," you whined, finding your voice finally, and you continued to raise it as you said, "please, daddy. Please, I'm gunna fucking cum, you fuck me so good."

"Was that so hard?" he asked, finding your clit with a wet thumb and rubbing circles on it until he felt you come undone again, biting the duvet to keep from wailing and alerting the whole fucking town to what Eddie doing.

He couldn't hold back anymore, and he followed through on his promises, continuing to fuck you as he came ribbons into your cunt, the liquids pooling up and dripping out around his cock. He watched with stars in his eyes at the sight of your pretty pussy taking all his juices.

He slowed down, his dick still inside you but softer. He cooed at you, praising you for being so good.

"Baby, that was... wow," he said, pulling out of you. He ran a comforting hand down your back, gripping your ass gently one more time. "I love you, I love you so much."

Eddie ran a finger over your pussy, to your clit, making your whole body jerk when he touched it. Your cum and his mashed together, an indistinguishable mess between your legs. You didn't move, just stayed face down ass up while Eddie worshipped up, touching you softly all over the place.

"My love," he said, taking your hand softly, returning to his nurturing boyfriend stat like he hadn't just treated you like a whore. His whore... "C'mon sweet girl, let's go get some water and a shower."

[bizarrelovesquare]

Dan posted this video that gave us a HUGE peek into Martin's notes about episodes they're working on...

Screenshots (with about 90% ID of what's visible, bless his handwriting) under the cut! Fair warning, it's long, but there's a lot going on here, and it's so much to think about!

picture 1: ????? chicken head funnier

picture 2: (first page) Reactionator

? Speakers all over town People's phones Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

The shrink is delusional ? ? exercise that is the catalyst for Cand. being delusional

Candace "It's A Wonderful Life" -- After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels sad

Family - I think you discuss it Cruise Ship - P&F Van/Doof Last chance to Candace A / Perry back

(second page) Doof's DEI W/A C's Therapist

Doof same therapist

Ferb is next a speech therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ex(?)nemesis - therapist

Therapist sees - "WAIT, I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING--"

(note going down side of page) GUEST ON DOOFENPUSS

Doof ? regular ? ? - but she can't ? this because of C ? Confidential ALL DANVILLE Doof and Vanessa on cruise ALL CHARACTERS ? Reactionator blackmail secret I ever tell you w/Lindana whose solved mysteries

picture 3: (script on the table) (our first potential season 6 title?) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

picture 4: Vanessay

Change tennis to playground

Roger & slushy guy not zapped

Rog. - reflects ray w/ his teeth - set up teeth first Doof: strong jaw -

Agent T thumbnotes "Up the chimney is a weird visual pun" Stacy: "You know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ambient sounds joke sequence - cut down?

Mono - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I ? ? ?

To Liv for Vanessay Playground - see how ? ? trap sets scene - a handled window box

Stacy: "Hey ? I ? ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

Stacy pushes ? out of doorway

Dimin: after "Shorty" - No prize is worth this!

picture 5: T For Teen For Liv - SC 916 Perry leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

Pitch n buttons for each

Exec note - Thurs - T For Teens 1:48 end of C/Stacy annual ? sudden cut to end ? w "napkins"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

(I cannot make this bit out to save my life. Martin what in the world my dude)

picture 6: Meap pt 2 - thumbnotes

22 to Meap - "Uh-uh! An ship ? us away!" (clumsy)

Fix pronunciation "St. Lois" joke C is shushed by Meap

Tidy up - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode ? ship sucks

Brenda joke sexist "No one tracks you through the universe more than your wife"

picture 7: 501 PT1 Exec notes - bigger intro of Doof instead of him on yearbook 10:27 Buf. throw away Constitution Irving beat #2 too quick to nerd

Deconstructing thumbatic

Instead of "psychosis" "phantasma"

607 - Isa hair - 704 OWCA shredding SC

C feels good - "? ? that every day"

12 min: Viewers see The Murder Board

Biblio Blast anim. notes Perry incompetent - smashes into Doof's roof Cut down - plants surrounding/attacking Cut down Doof/Per table start w/Doof "We have to HIT SELF DESTRUCT"

picture 8: (page 1) song by the paver the wind makes love w/each other again

around us - it all seems so real meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed we're SW in love w/each other again

Middle 1: From nothing we hustle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of unknowing has such beautiful colors But where is it all going ? towards one another? we're SW - in love w/each other again

Middle 2: We seek out each other Every time we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W/DANCING SKELETON

(page 2) Middle 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW in love w/ each other again We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The paver of

picture 9: While Dance

says to hug her how we feel healing each other turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: (So basically)

We're SW Alone by the river We sit on the ? and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/each other again

picture 10: Swampy

is trapped

back build something

element

State Triangle

"It's like the Berm[uda Triangle] totally different

(Teen lounge) & P&F build

too much like

Dan wants PLANE to

Doof is the ship

Jon said we turn strong where Doof is in the clouds - there's

picture 11: It's a whole new summer Perry (reblog if u cried)

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

Staring contest - Try not to laugh

Candace has to be ? at Jeremy's larping tournament but she laughs

picture 12: Perry sick, "Can you take

Candace P&F canoe race

Laughtrack-inator Start ? - reveal Doof hits them w/a Doof keeps cranking it up

Doof rises wall of ? behind at ?

Laugh-inator Cut to surgeon heart

Norm: Good mg. sir Doof: But I programmed you to

picture 13: (this is another view of the page in picture 2, but this one reveals slightly more at the bottom, nothing too noteworthy added except for this)

LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 3

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Despite the late night, the rest if the house, even your sad, wake up before noon. You would have rather headed down to the beach sooner but you didn't want to be rude. You are a guest after all. 

Jacob and his buddies take a frisbee out in the water as Andy mentions jet-skis to you dad. He offers you to join but you decline, waving your book and towel at him. You know your dad won't appreciate the tagalong and you don't think the whole jet-ski thing is for you. 

You spray yourself with heavy spf and hunker in to get into the meat of the novel you've barely been able to nibble on. The sand is hot under the towel, the sun beats down, and the water softly laps over the silt. It's like an ad for a resort. 

You flip your sunglasses down as you recline, shielding yourself further with book. You're quickly enraptured as Jacob and his friends fade into the background and the distant tear of engines waft over the lake. The only thing you're missing is a proper drink. You brought a water bottle as you didn't bother to bring any coolers with you. The thought of drinking around your dad is still weird. It feels almost like condoning his bad habits.  

You flip the pages, melting into your towel as the heat roils through the air. The frisbee flies onto the sand and Jacob runs up to grab it. Taylor yells at him to hurry up. 

"Hey," Jacob waves at you, "wanna join?" 

You peek over the top of the book. You should enjoy the water for a bit. Besides, you're starting to feel a bit ostracized. 

"Sure," you mark your page and stand up. You peel off your crochet cove-rup and lick your flip flops away. "Monkey in the middle?" 

He chuckles as he turn to the water, though you don't miss the none-to-subtle peek at your bikini. 

"Just flinging it around," he shrugs, "you looked bored." 

"Toss it, Jacob," Van snaps, "jesus." 

Jacob hurls the frisbee, making his bossy friend run for it. You space yourself out to join the lazy catch and glide. You're quiet as you listen in on their conversation about third year. They're a year behind you. 

"So, never been to your campus," Taylor says, "are the girls hot?" 

"Charming," Jacob rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, but so are the guys," you stick your tongue out, "heavy competition." 

Taylor frowns as the other three laugh at him. You wouldn't say they aren't cute but definitely not the type that stun at first sight. Average but average isn't so bad. You're about the same.  

"Damn," Taylor mutters.  

The conversation shifts to the game they were talking about last night. Some role play. They're going to a festival or something? You're not too sure. 

As you toss the disc, you hear something across the water. You squint as one of the engines suddenly silences. There's a lull and another rips through the air. You tilt your head and lift your sunglasses as you try to see across the distance. It's only dark specks. 

The frisbee lands a foot behind you. You got to get it and hurl it between Taylor and Cam. The motor quiets, a low putter, and you find your gaze drawn back to the scene. You can't make it out but you have a weird feeling. 

As you stare out, the engine roars again. The small dot gets bigger and bigger, closer and closer. The jet-ski cuts up towards the shore, near enough that you feel the ripples but far enough not to be a hazard. You gasp as you see how your sad is draped over the front of the seat in front of Andy.  

You push through the water and yell out. Holy shit. As you get to the sand, you notice the red smeared over your father's silver hair. No.  

"What happened?" You shriek as Andy climbs up and grunts as he tries to haul your dad down to the ground. 

"Told him to slow down," Andy pants, "he wouldn't listen--" 

"Is he-- shit! Is he okay?" Your eyes glisten as your voice trembles. 

"Dad," Jacob comes up behind you. 

"Boys, go back to the house," Andy snarls. 

"Wait! What--" 

"Just listen. Go inside." He snarls and turns his attention back to you, "we gotta get him to the car." 

You can't think, you can barely see as tears rise with your panic and disbelief. It can't be real. There's so much blood. So much. 

"Dad," you quaver as you step closer. 

"Goddamnit, someone help me with him," Andy barks, "Taylor, you're strong. Get over here." 

You blink as time slows and the daylight blurs to obscure sounds and streaks. This is supposed to be a vacation. What's happening? 

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

masterlist playlist

Part 2: The Hideout

You follow Robin over the resort property line to a place where guests are forbidden and get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes.

word count: 3.6k

My blog is 18+ONLY, mature themes, violence, alcohol consumption, eventual smut, fighting, mention of blood, reader is called Bird as a nickname, reader plays the cello. Reader is 21, Eddie is late 20's.

Songs for this chapter: Animal (fuck like a beast)//W.A.S.P. No one like you//Scorpions Mental Health (bang your head)//Quiet Riot Wasted Years//Iron Maiden

a/n: it has been so much fun to pull this out of the rubble and jump back into this world for a rewrite, I hope you enjoy. To my I'm on Fire peeps, there will be a scene in this chapter that feels very similar to something that happened in IOF, and that's because I originally stole it from this fic, thinking I'd never post it, lmao. Thought about changing it, but it's just too perfect. Plus, there will always be a hint of biker Eddie in all of my Eddies.

Sticking close behind Robin, you crossed the arc of a walking bridge over a creek and disappeared on a worn path through the trees.  It was only then that you could finally make out the building where the loud music was coming from.  

It had corrugated metal sides and roof, like a structure you might see on a farm that housed large equipment.  There was a picnic table out front where a few people were seated, and the shell of a vintage automobile with bullet holes in it sat in the weeds.

A little more than a city block away was a modest cabin made from actual logs with an old truck, a van, and a motorcycle parked out front.

“Who lives there?” You nudged Robin.

She stopped to see where you were looking first, and then, “oh yeah, that’s Wayne’s place.  The head maintenance guy.  This is his too,” she gestured to the metal building where the music and shouts were coming from.  “Both him and his nephew Eddie.  Have you met Eddie?”

You absolutely knew who he was, but didn’t want to come off as a stalker, so you shook your head.  

The large sliding door entrance to the building was open about a foot, letting out wafts of smoke and a hazy, golden light.  From over Robin’s shoulder, you could see quite a few bodies moving around in there, and just then came the sound of a glass breaking.  

“Ready?” She smiled back at  you, struggling to hold everything in her arms as she reached for the handle to slide the door open the rest of the way.  

“Let me?” You lurched forward.

“I got it,” she insisted, fumbling one of the guitars before catching it again with a gasp of relief.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting to see when she eased the door open the rest of the way, but a topless woman dancing on a table top was not one of them. 

Her hair was bleached blonde, frizzy and teased around her face.  She was tan with a prominent bikini line over her pert breasts, and it looked like she’d just pulled the top of her leopard print spandex dress down to give a little show.  

The song Animal (Fuck like a beast) by W.A.S.P. was blaring and the guys around the table cheered while the woman flipped her hair and worked her hips in a circle.  You were sure you recognized her as one of the waitresses from earlier that night. 

Metalheads of all kinds were crowded together, mingling, and you feared that you stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Some were in leather; some wore jean vests with pins and patches all over them.  A handful had long hair that they must’ve tied back or wore under hats while they worked at the resort, but a few of them, like Steve, kept theirs short and tidy, for the most part.  Overhead string lights swayed from high wooden beams, and a chandelier that looked like it was made out of wrenches.  An old, pea green Kelvinator refrigerator and a small kitchenette was to your left, as if someone had lived there at one point, and two couches sat against the wall that were mismatched and worn.  

Most of the crowd of people seemed to be lingering together in the middle, standing there as if waiting for something.  Taking shots, smoking blunts, and making out with each other, blocking you from seeing beyond them.  

Robin signaled to follow her, and you were hesitant to start moving through the masses, holding the guitar case flush to your body, feeling like it was something to hide behind.  You noticed posters on the walls for bands like Judas Priest and Metallica, and on the concrete floor you saw smudges from white chalk markings, dark splotches the color of dried blood, but that was ridiculous.  

You pushed between a girl with a blue mohawk and a guy with a shaved head that was covered in tattoos in a hurry to keep up with your escort, and the two shot you a hard glare.  When you could finally see the far wall, there was an oval, threadbare carpet in the corner with a drum kit set up, three microphones, two amps, and some other equipment that suggested live music would soon be happening.  

“This is where they practice!” Robin shouted over the music, directing you where to put Eddie guitar down.  “We call it The Hideout.”

“'Where who practices?’ You set Eddie’s baby near the wall where she told you to.  

“Eddie and Chrissy’s band,” she motioned for you to stand over at the wall with her. 

“Oh,” you turned to look at the instruments again, heart flopping a little at the idea he would show up at any moment.  “They're playing tonight?”

There was a commotion up ahead and you both turned to look. "Later maybe! The fights are tonight,” again, yelling over the growl of the music.  Now the song was No One Like You by Scorpions, and it sounded like people were cheering at someone who’d just come through the door. 

“Fights?” You leaned in to get more information when everyone started pushing back to make room for whatever was about to happen.  You remembered that one of the guys on the porch earlier that day with Chrissy and Steve had a black eye, and you’d noticed another worker at the resort who had a busted lip, but you hadn’t paused to think that maybe they were somehow connected.

It was then that you saw Eddie appear from out of the sea of bodies, and took a sharp intake of breath, holding it in, afraid to let it out for fear you might whimper.  

He was so beautiful, it made you dizzy. You stood up straight, adjusting yourself, covertly checking to make sure you weren’t perspiring too badly.

He was wearing the tux he’d had on for the show earlier, but the tie and cummerbund were both gone, and his white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his stomach.  You caught a glimpse of tattoos on his chest, and a necklace of some sort. Someone handed him a beer and he threw back a generous gulp.  

“There’s going to be boxing? Here? Tonight?” You were trying to act casual and not stare at him the whole time, but it was hard to tear your attention away.  

“Nothing professional,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, putting her shoulder blades against the wall.  “Just your average bare knuckle street fighting, basically. The guys were doing it to blow off steam, but then some others got involved and people started placing bets, so a whole thing started.”

Eddie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and took it off, passing it to someone in the crowd.  Your mouth went dry at the sight of his lean muscles under the scattered ink.  He kept his hair tied back and started wrapping white tape around one of his hands while Steve said something in his ear.  

“How do they choose who fights who?” You were invested now, wringing Robin out for any information she had.  

“I don’t know how they figure it out, but the new guys usually fight each other, and then a winner challenges Eddie or Steve or Alex,” she pushed off the wall to get a better look at the center of the room. “But it looks like Eddie is up first.” And then with a smirk she added, “all of the new hotshots at the resort think they can beat Eddie.”

“Can they?” Your voice cracked, eyes locked on the scene.  A guy shorter than Eddie but muscular in a football player type of way, was also shirtless in the circle now, with taped hands and wearing a pair of sweats with the name of a university down the leg. The guy was hopping from foot to foot to keep himself hyped up, punching the air in front of him.

“No one beats Eddie,” there was pride in her voice.  “Looks like the guy he’s fighting tonight is Lance, one of the new ski instructors.  Totally full of himself.”

Steve was wearing a white wife beater and jeans, and he raked a hand through his mop of hair just before pointing in your direction.  Eddie’s gaze followed the line of his finger directly to your stunned face, and then it lingered there.

He seemed to contemplate, wetting his lips, and then he nodded to Steve and was on his way over.

He didn’t have to push people out of the way because they were all quick to part to make room for him.  It wasn’t long before he was standing right in front of you.  You tried not to let your gaze linger on the full curve of his slightly chapped lips, or the way his wavy bangs framed his cherrywood eyes.  On closer inspection, you could see that the necklace he wore was a ball chain with a guitar pick hanging from it.  

Robin opened her mouth to say something, possibly introduce you, but Eddie cut her off.  

“What the hell are you doing here, Princess?” His voice was low with an edge of irritation.  He pulled the chunky metal rings off his fingers one by one as he spoke.

Robin cleared her throat, stepping forward. “She’s with me,” she stuttered a bit nervously, knowing full well she shouldn’t have brought you there.  “She came with me, she’s cool.”

Eddie collected all of the rings in his fist and kept staring at you as if he wanted to hear it from your mouth, not Robin’s.  

Your brain short-circuited for a second and you forgot how to form words when he was so close you could see the detail of the dragon tattoo on his chest.  But then, finally, it came to you:

“I-I carried your baby.”

The second it slipped out, you knew how stupid it sounded.

Unblinking, he gave his rings to Robin, and then he was gone.

You stared at the space where he no longer stood, flushed with embarrassment.  

“I carried your baby?” You repeated in a whisper, covering your face with your hands. 

Someone turned the music down so that Steve’s voice could be heard, and he waved his arms in the air to get everyone’s attention.  

“I don’t have to explain the rules to you, because there are none,” his announcement was met with screams and cheers.  Robin tugged at your arm, signaling for the two of you to get a bit closer to the action.  “First one to hit the ground for whatever reason is the loser.  Just fists, no blades or other stupid tricks.”

At one side of the circle of bodies, Lance the ski instructor was practicing some tight punches, and at the other end, Eddie rolled his neck while Chrissy finished taping the knuckles of his other hand.  It was then that the chalk and the stains on the concrete you saw earlier made sense.  

“You two ready?” Steve put his arm up between them, waiting for their nods, and then, at their signal, he chopped his hand down between them as if he were slicing the air.  

Lance was hopping from foot to foot, trying his best to look like some fancy footwork he saw in a Rocky movie, while Eddie walked casually, giving the guy a hooded, bored stare.  

Eddie could read Lance like a book.  A fight was a lot more than just a mindless throwing of hands, there was a mental prowess and skill needed that a lot of the punks busing in from suburbia did not have.  Street smarts was one thing, and Eddie surely had that, but he’d been fighting bullies off since he was a kid, and Wayne taught him to fight like it was a game of chess.

Eddie could tell where Lance was going to go a second before he made the move. He saw the guy was amped up, letting his emotions fight for him, and that was only one of his first mistakes.

Lance charged at him and swung, but Eddie was already steps away; relaxed and agile, holding his guard up. The ski instructor came at him aggressively, again and again, until Eddie pushed him, making his opponent stumble back. 

Keeping his form, Eddie caught you standing there out of the corner of his eye.

…what were you doing there at the Hideout?

He let himself ponder that question for too long and Lance was on him again, aiming a left jab to his ribs, and Eddie absorbed the blow with a grunt, arching to the side. 

You were not supposed to be there.  What was Robin thinking?

Mostly, Brenner and Joyce stayed out of their business, as long as whatever they did was off resort property, but if they found out one of the guests was somehow involved, there would be hell to pay.  

Lance charged again and Eddie dodged, angry at himself for not being able to focus .

“C’mon Lance, stomp that freak,” someone yelled from the crowd. 

And that was all it took

For Eddie to get tired of dragging it out for betting purposes.

Lance charged forward with a cry and Eddie socked an uppercut into his unsuspecting jaw.  

The surfer boy went down

Hard. 

Saliva and blood flew from his mouth as he flailed back, arms going ragdoll.

It felt like it happened in slow motion but soon enough, Lance was splayed out like a starfish on the concrete floor.

“Goodnight sweet prince,” Steve said sarcastically as he collected bets over the ski instructor’s limp body.

Robin cheered with her hands over her head, and you gave a few slow claps, your brain barely able to register where you were or what you were seeing.

“You want a beer?” She asked as you watched Lance numbly get to his feet with the help of two friends and attempt to shake it off.  

Robin motioned for you to follow her around to the refrigerator which was stocked from top to bottom with nothing but beer cans. She handed you one and then went to lean against the side of the appliance, cracking open the tab with a hiss.

With your back to the crowd, you prepared to follow suit, listening to Steve introduce two more fighters.

But then there was someone at your side,

“Not like that,” a voice said.

Eddie had come up behind you, wearing his white shirt unbuttoned, skin still glistening with sweat. Mental Health (Bang Your Head) by Quiet Riot came over the speakers, eliciting a wave of yelps and screams from the group.  

“Wait,” he put his hand on top of yours to keep you from opening your beer while he motioned for another guy to toss him one.  You turned to seek comfort or guidance from Robin, but she was absorbed in conversation with a girl in a platinum pixie cut who’d just walked up.  

“Like this,” he brushed his bangs to the side, and winked as he fished a ring of keys out of his pocket.  He used the serrated metal edge of one to punch a hole at the bottom of the can.  

It was the wink that made your skin flush hot, and then your jaw went slack as you watched him wrap his lips around the newly made hole in the can.  He made eye contact with you one more time before tipping his head back, and cracking the tab of the beer open with his thumb so that the liquid when squirting down his throat.  

The muscles in his throat jerked as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.  

It wasn’t three seconds before he lowered his head and crushed the can in his hand to show it was empty.  He let out a refreshing, “ahhhh,” and darted his tongue out to lick a droplet from his chin.  

You were still holding your unopened beer, waiting for him, mouth dry.  “I-I’m not sure I—”

Yes, you knew what shotgunning a beer was, you’d seen it done plenty of times at college parties and in movies, but had never been tempted to try it yourself.  

Ignoring your hesitation, Eddie motioned with the crook of his finger for you to come closer.  You shuffled to be within reach of him as if your knees were locked in place.  

With a gentle touch, fingers brushing yours, he took your beer from you, wiped it off with his shirt, and then proceeded to make the same hole with his key in the aluminum.  Some of the beer sprayed up and misted your face.

“Here we go,” he tipped your chin with his finger and butterflies swarmed in your stomach as his eyes searched yours. “Just let it shoot into the back of your throat.”

You swallowed nervously to make sure your throat was working, and then wrapped your lips around the can at his instruction.

“Easy, just like that, hold it there,” Eddie was so close now that your elbow was touching his bare chest.  He put a hand on the back of your head.  “When I say, tip your head back all the way, and I’ll flip the tab for you.”

You swiped your tongue over the hole in the can, thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you messed it up and beer went shooting out of your nose.  

Robin offered a few words of encouragement and you noticed a tendril of hair clinging to the sweat on Eddie’s neck, right over the heartbeat in his throat.  

“You ready?”

You weren’t but—-

“Okay, now.”

You closed your eyes, slammed your head back, and prayed, even though you weren’t at all religious.  Some lukewarm beer leaked onto your tongue, and then Eddie pulled the tab, keeping one hand over yours to hold the can steady.  

The gush of liquid hissed and exploded down your throat, and for a second you thought you would choke, but then your swallowing reflex bolted into action and it was over so fast.  

You gasped and swiped beer from your chin when you pulled away to look at the empty can, amazed. 

Eddie cupped his warm hand around the back of your neck, and you felt him shift closer until his mouth was at your ear.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

An actual chill ran down your spine.

Robin put up her hand and you gave you a high five.  “Not bad for a first timer,” she joked.  “Now crush it on your forehead and grunt.”

“Ha. Ha.” 

You turned to Eddie, “that was fun maybe he should—”

You were about to say the two of you should do another one, 

but he was gone.  

—----

The next night, Eddie couldn’t sleep, so he decided to head to the property to finish up some work at the pool house.   

The place he shared with Wayne was close enough to walk to the Hawkins Landing property, but that night, he drove.  He wanted to roll the window down on the van and blast Wasted Years by Iron Maiden and belt out the lyrics.  

He slipped into the parking lot for visitors and employees, turning the music down so that it wouldn’t be heard by any of the nearby cabins.  There were two street lamps on, but a third one he noticed was out, and made a mental note that he’d have to get Jamie to fix it tomorrow.  The sidewalks along the manicured lawn were also lined with lights that came out of the ground like little mushrooms, and the boat dock far off to his left was lit, but other than that, he was in the dark.  

Grabbing his red toolbox from the passenger seat, he put a flashlight in his tool belt holster, and the van door creaked on its hinges just before it banged shut.  His ribs still ached from the punch he took the night before, but he only allowed himself to cringe and curse in private. Luckily, his only companions at that moment were the crickets and the lapping of the water against the bank.

It wasn’t until he was a few yards down the sidewalk, head down, lost in thought, that the din of classical music made him halt in his tracks. 

It was definitely strings, possibly a violin? No, it was too deep.  

He looked up at the main house, but the sound was much too close to be coming from way up there.

He cut to the right and up the grass.

Then he saw the attic light on in cabin #11.

He told himself not to bother, but as the passion of the playing increased, curiosity got the better of him.  

He came right up to your driveway, staying half obscured by a tree trunk, and watched you.

The cello, of course that’s what you were playing.  He was no expert on the classics, but he’d always learned music by ear and had a unique sense for identifying instruments.  

You weren’t reading from sheet music, you were just playing while you stared out at the sky.

Playing something by heart, or making it up as you went along, he wasn’t sure.  

In his mind, you were so far out of league, it was criminal.

Your attention broke when a sudden movement down on the road startled you.  

The bow zipped clumsily across the strings one last time, and you stood up to get closer to the open window.

But, your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you. 

There was no one there.    

-----

Hi hello! thank you so much for reading! For those wondering, this fic will still be centered around music, not boxing, but the little fight club they have has a lot to do with the spin of the plot soon.

thank you all so much for the suppport! we are getting to the juicy parts now! give me those hungry eyes. comments and reblogs are cherished!! like, I live for them.

-------

taglist: @tlclick73@micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch

[novantinuum]

mmmmmmm. messy ass ramble thoughts ahead. this is not coherent, it is 1am, you have been warned.

so i've been thinking about that "i can fix anything! i can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it!" line during steven's lil manic panic moment in the ep everything's fine in the context of like... og SU episodes

this whole lil manic slip is one that's like... it seems a little extreme for him as a character at first, when one looks at the situation on surface.

but i think it really does shed a LOT of light onto one of his deepest fear. the same fear he's harbored for a good damn deal of the show.

"i didn't wanna hurt anyone!"

this moment comes just a few eps after the S3 finale 'reveal' of rose shattering pink diamond. in that final scene of the season, steven gets 'confirmation' from garnet that this happened, and seems to accept it for what it was- a difficult decision made amidst a treacherous war.

but also, he Doesn't.

because he's the legacy rose left behind. because each and every day he's growing more into his power. because now, with this reveal of rose's decision to shatter on the table, he's putting each and every decision he makes under a microscope.

he had no choice, he claims. she wouldn't let him help her.

he had no choice. it was self defense.

but is that true?

isn't that the same thing his mom probably told herself before ending a gem's life forever?

even though she poofed bismuth and holed her away for suggesting the very same idea??

rose became a hypocrite... so what if HE becomes the hypocrite, too?

see, with steven... i think it's really easy in the main show to sorta... observe all his actions on the mere surface without considering the deeper tickings of his psyche. like... take lars being brought back to life. from audience POV, that's a good deed. steven just saved someone with his magic! positive moment.

but genuinely... i think this was one of the worst moments of his entire life. i think he's still haunted by it- by the fact that he can just "fix" people in that way. and i think fixing jasper's shattered gem only made the specter of that day worse.

steven believes his role is to be the Shield.

the protector.

the one who is willing to do whatever it takes- even up to turning himself in for a crime he didn't commit- to protect his family and his friends.

and like, we all know that it's not steven's FAULT that lars died. BUT- he still died while under steven's protection.

and so the same way steven blames himself for "hurting" bismuth, jasper, and eyeball, he blames himself for killing lars. mentally, he Takes Responsibility for his death. yet another tick mark in the box of horrible "mistakes" he's made, yet another tick mark landing him just a little closer to the rose he's desperately trying not to become.

and worst of all... it's a mistake he "covers up."

because his tears are able to bring him back from the dead entirely.

and years later he realizes this is true for gems as well ;-;;;

so yeah, i absolutely think lars' death was also at the back of his mind when he said that line at the beginning

what steven saw in the depths of his mind as he was panicking there was him slipping down a slippery slope of violence that he couldn't escape from

first, causing harm to other gems and calling it self defense...

then, letting your friend die protecting YOU when you're the one who should be protecting him and facing NO consequence for this misgiving because you bring him back to life

then, expressing anger so visceral it can shatter floors, destroy whole rooms, flip vans. out of control. inexcusable.

then... outright shattering a gem in a duel while training to hone that anger. once again, facing NO consequence because you bring her right back.

then, that sudden, terrifying thought of "what if i shattered white diamond"

like, steven has absolutely no framework by which to separate his actions from genuine desire or just plain abstract thought.

he has no framework by which to understand the beautiful tool of adding a "man would it be fucked up or what-" to the beginning of those sorts of intimidating, dark musings.

he has no framework by which to understand the complexities of his trauma, and the way in which genuinely fighting back against someone he once called an enemy might feel empowering- instead, it would seem he's disgusted in retrospect with how deep he pressed into that fight, how much a part of him ENJOYED it, all because of the horrid destination it led to.

anyways at this point steven thinks he has now become the Hypocrite like his mom, and that he's just destined to hurt everyone around him forever but never be punished for it and Ouch

this post has no end, these were just ramble thoughts, the end. goodnight. i am sleepy and need to prepare to make Wig tomorrow bc OH boy i am con crunch.

yeehaw .

[glitterjay]

hi can you do like bodyguard sunghoon with celebrity/popstar reader where sunghoon is reader's main bodyguard and is always cold to her but he secretly likes her and one time she goes somewhere without telling him and he gets worried so when he finds her he punishes her and they confess their feelings for each other?IT doesn't have to like follow this transcript or plot i just want bodyguard sunghoon with reader 😭😭 thank you so much i love all your works and i hope you have a nice day/night

⭒ idol!reader, body guard!sunghoon, fluff

⭒ c's note: i left out the punishing part because i genuinely could not think of a way to write that bit

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @jaylaxies @americanojake

being a bodyguard in love was a difficult task for sunghoon. aure, it fulfilled his desire to protect you at all costs—it was his job, after all—but he couldn't do much beyond that.

he would follow you everywhere because he was your main bodyguard, but he had to stay outside your room, outside the private room where you were eating at a restaurant, outside your life. he was just there to guard everything inside the bubble.

this fed into his now-serious and intimidating personality, only giving you nods and short words as a way of communicating. he couldn't let his guard down, and you couldn't know about his feelings either.

little did he know that you longed for him to open up. you could see the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, the way he was always first in line during your events, even if he wasn't needed. how carefully he treated you and how worried he'd get if you got a single scratch.

-

after today’s schedule, you agreed with your fellow idol friends to hang out and catch up. sunghoon wasn’t in his usual spot after you were done filming scenes for a music video, so you didn’t personally tell him where you were going.

you did ask some other staff to tell him for you, to which sunghoo didn't take so well. he asked the staff of other idols where you could have possibly gone, bowing several times when a makeup artist told him she overheard the group talking about going to a specific restaurant.

Hh practically ran all the way, too desperate to wait for the line of cars and vans outside the venue waiting for other artists and staff. it wasn't far anyway.

as soon as he arrived, sunghoon barged into the restaurant, presenting his identification as your personal bodyguard to gain access to the private rooms. he could hear your laughter over the other voices in the room.

he knocked once, hearing how the voices quickly hushed, and then there was another one saying, "come in!"

sunghoon peeked his head, a sigh of releave leaving his mouth when he saw you sitting there, safe. it took you by surprise to see it was hom knocking, so you excused yourself, making up a lie but promising you'd be back as quick as you could.

once outside, sunghoon began to check you for any sign of discomfort, which made you giggle a bit.

"someone's worried."

"you could've said something! my heart almost fell out of my ass when i didn't see you at the venue."

you took the silence as an opportunity to fix his messed-up hair, probably from the running.

sunghoon sighed, leaning into your touch, closing his eyes.

the view before you seemed out of the world, how the dim lights of the hallway resalted his face features, and how he leaned into your hand more and more.

"a picture lasts longer," he said, his eyes still closed.

you scoffed, taking your hand away from his cheek, causing him to stumble. you giggled.

"we can go on a date. just us two," you offered. sunghoon's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, making you giggle again. "but only if you wan-"

"of course i want!"

he cleared his throat and regained his posture, acting as if his heart hadn't done twenty flips in three seconds.

"i mean, that sounds like a great idea. yes."

© glitterjay | tumblr

[munsonsreputation]

WATCH THAT SCENE!

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [2.3k]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, overall fluff!!!

summary: the kids need help learning how to dance for their formal and you're their last resort, but they should've known not to count your suave boyfriend eddie out.

The sun had begun setting in the small town, the burnt twinge of orange and yellow tumbling over the sky where clouds grew drabber and the bright blue following behind. The air was the perfect kind of crisp that blew smoothly against your legs and face, easing the warmth that had developed from the hours of stretches, flips, kicks, and jumps.

All of the others girl had left the parking lot, only leaving you behind, though Chrissy was kind enough to offer you a ride, but you knew Eddie was going to there any minute. And so you beamed when his van came turning into the school zone, the music slowly being turned down as he saw you standing outside the gym already approaching his car.

“How was practice, baby?” He hailed out towards the open passenger window, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes playfully, opening the door to toss your things into the backseat before settling into the soft velvet cushion beside him. Eddie was already jutting his chin out towards you when you giggled, holding a hand on his cheek to stabilize yourself and pressing your lips together.

He tasted like mint and cigarettes. A combination that you’d never get sick of because despite how much you hated that he smoked those cancer sticks, he always chewed a piece of gum before ever trying to go in for a kiss with you.

“I can’t wait to shower.” You groaned, combing your fingers through your oily hair when he finally started driving away from the school.

Cheer practice was always muggy and gross. Getting tossed in the air time and time again, then proceeding to touch the sweaty mats that everyone practically laid on and touched made you feel icky. It was always routine for you to get into a shower after practice and scrub the living daylights out of your skin.

Eddie looked over at you, cursing under his breath a little at his forgetfulness.

“Shit! Sorry, babe, but Henderson called—he asked if we could swing my Joyce and Hops.”

You shrugged, shaking your head not bothered by the pit-stop since it was always nice to see the kids especially since you were so busy these days.

The only time you really got to see them was if Eddie had a campaign that ran late or on weekends when Eddie was in charge of dropping them off and picking them up.

“It’s fine, as long as I get a shower in the next few hours. Did he say why?”

He shook his head, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “He sounded panicky and annoyed. A lot of voices and music in the background, though.”

“Well, panicky and annoyed, isn’t unusual?” You quipped, and he cackled, switching lanes to take the route.

“We’ll find out in a little bit.”

The Byers-Hopper living room had now been infiltrated by all the younger teens, including the older ones: Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. The older four had been called to by Dustin, begging them to come over and show them a few dance moves that they could use for the winter formal.

But bless Dustin Henderson’s heart, because while they might have had a few proms and formals as dance experience, none of them were “experts” at dancing — or at least none met his standards.

For god's sake, even Nancy and Jonathan, who were a couple since forever, looked like a pair of stiff bodies moving back and forth when they tried to demonstrate how to dance when a slow song came on.

And you would think that someone as charming as Steve would have some sort of groove when it came to dancing, but Jesus, no, he looked even more rigid and awkward.

Don’t even get them started on Robin, who bursted out in laughter when she tried to dance with Steve but failed within the first three seconds because she had accidentally stomped on his foot thinking she was leading.

It even came to the point where they confided in Hopper and Joyce who had arrived home from work to their living room furniture pushed against the walls to make room for a makeshift dance floor. A cassette played loudly through the radio and everyone seemed to be a jumbling mess.

Well, the mess became even bigger when Hopper and Joyce tried to show them a move or two, which just ended up with everyone laughing and burying their faces in their hands at the scene. El, Will, and Jonathan cringed more so than laughed, but now they knew their parents were probably the worst dancers than themselves at than alone was a core memory.

That’s when Dustin threw in the towel and decided to make a call to his dear friend Eddie. Eddie who was about to leave his trailer to pick you up from practice so you could get home and shower, then finish the movie you two fell asleep to last night.

But nevertheless, Dustin sounded frantic and desperate, begging for him to bring you over and alas Eddie gave in.

The boy finally saw the van pull into the driveway and shot up from the couch where he had been resting, watching through the window.

“Shut the music off, Steve!” He shouted, stumbling up and towards the front door.

Everyone rose their brows, Steve following Dustin’s instruction and pausing the cassette that El had let them borrow for the day’s impromptu dance party. Before you and Eddie could even knock on the door, it was pulled open.

The scene of everyone staring at the metal head and cheerleader, quite shocking actually—more shocking than the stares in the hallways at school, which were pretty dreadful already.

You side-eyed Eddie suspiciously wondering what he had gotten you both into before looking back at Dustin.

“Hi?” you squeaked suspiciously, twiddling your hand in the air to greet everyone who waved.

The boy smirked, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you inside roughly without a second thought.

“Dustin, what the hell!” You shrieked having no choice but to move with him in order to avoid tripping over your own feet.

Eddie rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shutting the door closed.

“Henderson, you’ve got three seconds to tell me why you’re dragging my girlfriend like a rag doll.”

Dustin apologetically bowed towards Eddie, dropping your arm and gesturing to the open floor.

Everyone else was either leaning up against the wall or sitting down on the couch, trying to get some rest after the young boy practically forced them to keep dancing until they had something, but nothing was good enough for the damn twerp.

“You know how to dance, right?” Dustin stared at you, and you bounced on your heels, nodding your head slightly.

“I mean, cheerleading does require some dancing but—“

Dustin shushed you, causing you to furrow your brows, and looked around dumbfounded at the action. Steve and Robin were already shooting you sorry looks as they muttered something about his tone and needing a smack to the head.

“Henderson, just tell us why we’re here?” Eddie rubbed at his temples.

He plopped on the empty seat next to Max who looked rather peeved at being stuck there all afternoon when she could have been at the arcade playing Dig-Dug.

She turned to him, gesturing in the air with annoyed hands. “Dustin wants us to learn how to dance for this weekend’s formal.”

Lucas pipped in, looking at the crowd before settling on you. “No one knows how to dance except you.”

A small smile grew upon your face, looking around the room at the sullen faces that were offended at Lucas’ words — mostly Hopper and Joyce, because back in their day, they were pretty darn good dancers if they said so themselves.

Eddie sat up from his spot on the couch, shooting a deceitful look at Lucas while gesturing fondly to himself.

“What? You don’t think she’s the only good dancer around here do you?”

Mike grunted, mumbling under his breath, “You sure don’t look like you knew how to command a dance floor.”

Everyone seemed to agree with Mike, which was extremely rare, even for Hopper who didn’t like the kid all that much.

You crossed your arms, shaking your head at the little shitheads and more offended that they thought your boyfriend couldn't dance.

“Hey! Did you forget Eddie is in a band? He practically eats, sleeps, and breathes rhythm.” You reasoned with a tilt of your head, trying to sway them.

Everyone tried to stifle their laughter but failed terribly. I mean could you blame them?

Eddie played metal music, not that pop disco shit that would be playing at the formal, but that’s because they thought wrong about him. They all thought they had your boy all figured out as the stereotypical metal head that couldn’t dance to save his life, but you were about to make them eat their words.

Contrary to popular beliefs, Eddie was quite the dancer, and a good one at that. He knew how to keep up the pace and swoop you off your feet so smoothly you’d think he was a professional in his past life.

You shot Eddie that look, lifting your shoulders with the silent offer as he looked almost coy before nodding at you, scooting off the couch and shaking his arms off getting himself warmed up.

You glanced at Steve, pointing at the stereo, “Hit it!”

Eddie moved across the floor to you effortlessly, hands going for your hips while you draped yours over his neck — you were like magnets easily finding each other. Your feet slid back and forth, one after the other, following Eddie’s lead that flowed with the music.

“How did you guys know Eddie and I love to dance to ABBA?” You called towards your friends who watched in astonishment.

“You can dance?!” they screeched, eyes widening as they all straightened up in their seats and off the walls, watching with the utmost surprise and shock.

You began to giggle as your boyfriend spun you around into his chest, swaying you both while he placed a kiss on your cheek before spinning you back out.

“Just like the songs says, you just gotta feel the beat.” Eddie rose his brow at them, moving your hips in his hands before you shook your head at his playfulness.

“C’mon, we’ll show you.” You told them, pushing at his chest so that you could skip on over towards Dustin, pulling him to the center of the living room with you.

Eddie went for Max, tilting his head for her to follow his lead and not be so nervous.

“It’s really all about keeping the pace and the beat.” He instructed, looking down at their shoes and Max did her best to not step on his sneakers that were already pretty beat up.

“And loosen up,” you chided, nudging Dustin a bit, “relax those shoulders and move those hips.” You instructed, showing him to roll his shoulders back and swirl his lower body as if he was hula-hooping.

After a while, they started to get the hang of it, easily moving across the floors without stepping on each other’s feet and not being so tense.

“Great, now you two try!” You nodded, handing off Dustin towards Max.

It was awkward at first, the both of them laughing as they didn’t know where to put their hands, but quickly it became natural with what you and Eddie had taught, the basics of keeping up with the rhythm and singing along.

You huffed with hands on your hips, looking around the room for your next student, while Eddie had already grabbed Joyce who was a giggly mess.

“C’mon Mr. Hips, I know they don’t call you king Steve for nothing.” You teased, tiptoeing towards your friend and pulling him along with you.

Before you knew it, the living room was a lively dance floor. Bodies grooving along to music without even second guessing if they were doing it right and just having fun with each other as they sung and tried not to bump into the pair beside them.

“Maybe we should open up a studio and start teaching some classes?” You suggested with a grin, resting your chin on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him.

He chucked, pecking at your nose sweetly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself babe, you know my dancing services are limited to you. This was just a special occasion.”

“Do you have any other talents you want to reveal?” Dustin nudged him with his elbow, prompting Eddie to smirk toward him before looking back at you.

“I can do a pretty gnarly lift, exactly like that one in Dirty Dancing.” He bragged, still pretty surprised at himself that he was able to pull it off.

The girls in the room gasped, including Steve, “No way!”

“Yes way,” You bit your lip with a giggle, remembering that one afternoon you and Eddie had spent together trying to get it down after you had watched the movie.

Steve dropped Robin’s hand, wandering over to the stereo and pausing the track before picking it up by the handle and walking towards the front door. Everyone stared at him, waiting until he sighed, one hand on his hip as he looked at you and Eddie.

“You guys need more room than this. We’re moving outside and that lift better be top tier.” He warned towards Eddie, walking out the front door as everyone else followed his lead.

You and Eddie laughed at how ridiculous it all was — surely none of the kids were going to attempt to pull off a lift in the middle of their formal dance, but it was sure gonna be funny watching everyone else have their try at it.

Eddie hoisted you up, prompting you to laugh into the crook of neck, “C’mon baby, I’m about to blow their socks off.” He said, kissing your cheek with an obnoxiously loud smooch before carrying you out the door.

So maybe you didn’t get to go home and get that shower or finish that movie as soon as you would have liked to, but you sure did get to dance that afternoon away with the love of your life and that in itself was a win.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i have been neglecting my beloved eddie for far too long and this has been sitting in my drafts since forever so here ya go!!! yes eddie is a dancer and that is not up for debate -- yeah my man loves his metal music, but the second he hears a good pop tune he's pulling his gf up and they're dancing like no one is watching.

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[apas-95]

It's an unexpected source, but there's a segment in the trailer for Arma 3's 'Laws of War' expansion, made in collaboration with the ICRC, that I actually found really evocative.

The scene starts with aerial footage of a light armoured car, with narration identifying it as a high-value target, a rare opportunity. We switch to a thermal view.

The HVT dismounts from the armoured car, and walks on foot, followed by a soldier carrying a rifle. Beside them, two people stand by a large van - though, they aren't armed. The narration states that the need for direct action should be calculated, balanced with the costs, as the camera drifts towards them.

However, as the camera flips to a wider view, we see the surroundings: the HVT is entering a large, blocky concrete building, with more armed soldiers standing by the armoured car, and a helicopter parked on the rooftop helipad. It's evidently a military location, and given the number of vehicles, likely a headquarters. Do unarmed military officers count as noncombatants?

Before we can consider it, we're switched back to a standard view. While the armoured car, camouflaged, blends into the pavement, the van stands out brightly: it's an ambulance. Outside of the thermal camera, details consolidate themselves - the sign above the entryway clearly marks this as a hospital. The line of vehicles parked outside are civilian hatchbacks and SUVs, as well as more ambulances. The helipad, a pale medical blue, is evidently used for medical airlift.

The footage stops.

[dreamwatch]

Exposure

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #24 - Prompt: Behind The Scenes | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: scars, ableism, facial differences seen negatively by others (a photographer) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, photoshoots

It was inevitable, honestly.

Their first professional photoshoot, not just Matty’s brother, Brian, with the family Pentax, shooting in black and white because it’s ‘artistic.’ Usually they didn’t put photographs on the flyers, just their logo, but once they moved to Indy a couple of independent labels came for a sniff of the goods and they wanted photos. Thank you, Brian, your services to photography will be forever remembered.

Once they were signed though, the label wanted professional photographs, which was fair, because honestly Gareth’s garage didn’t make the sexiest back drop. So anyway, here they were in a studio in Indianapolis getting their photographs taken, with a real professional photographer.

He doesn’t know a lot about this kind of gig, but he knows guys on TV get their makeup done all the time on account of the lights making their faces shiny, so at first it’s like, whatever. But then they’ve got them all lined up, real Metal Hammer pose, cloudy blue and gray backdrop like some extreme high school portrait, and the photographer is eyeballing him. Like hard stares. And he’s not looking him in the eye. He’s looking at his cheek.

Then the guy’s in a huddle with the makeup artist, and she’s looking at him and the photographers looking at him, and now they’ve got the assistant there. 

“What the fuck is the hold up,” whispers Gareth, and the boys mutter but Eddie says nothing because he knows. He knows and he’s dying a little inside.

Then the huddle is broken, and they’re getting moved around and now Eddie’s facing a different direction (‘we can just flip the neg’) but that’s not working for them either, and the studio lights are getting dimmed on his side, and his heart is racing, and the makeup girl is in his face, “Sorry,” she says, and she’s being gentle, likes she’s trying to be respectful, but she’s painting this shit on his face, on his neck, and he can see the shock, the way her eyes go wide when she starts to move the collar of his shirt and she realises it goes further down and that’s it—

“Can you—“ he snaps, ducking backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” she says all sheepish and apologetic, and she probably means it but he doesn’t care, he’s done, he wants out.

The photographer wraps it up, and he’s talking but Eddie’s not listening, he’s gone, out to the Jeff’s car waiting by the door, but they’re up in the studio playing rockstars, like they’re not driving to gigs in shitty vans, and he’s had it actually, fuck this.

He walks for an hour and then stops at Molly’s and has a few beers. And it feels stupid, at this point, like he’s over reacting, it’s a scar, and they’re in the image industry, and of course they’ll try to hide it. So what? So fucking what?

It’s dark when he finally comes up for air and heads back to their dank little apartment. The guys do that thing where they’re being casual but watching him out of the corner of their eye, but he shoos them away, he’s fine, thanks, nothing to worry about. Gets himself a sandwich and then goes to his room to sleep the day off.

He’s half asleep when he hears his door click, the dip of the bed as someone sits down. He opens his eyes, checks his watch, it’s a little after two in the morning, and when he flips over in the bed Steve Harrington is sitting next to him.

“Heard you had a day.”

“Who called you?” he asks.

Steve kicks his shoes off and slides up the bed, back against the headboard. 

“Gareth. He told me what happened. It fucking sucks.”

Eddie sits up, pulls himself next to Steve. “You drove all the way here to commiserate with me on my sucky day?”

“I drove all the way here to make sure you were okay,” Steve says, like it’s nothing, like Eddie can’t feel his heart squeezing tight at the words.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, needs to process it, what to say.

“I just wasn’t expecting it you know? Which is fucking stupid, and all, but you know, when have I ever been known for my smarts?” he jokes, half assed, because none of this is funny. “It’s just… like, it was so… they looked at me like, how do we fix this? How do we make this go away? Like I was ruining the shoot with my…” he gestures to his cheek, to the jagged red scar that runs all the way down his neck.

Steve listens, because he’s good at that, doesn’t butt in even when you know he’s trying to think of ways of fixing everything.

“And like the thing is, if we make it, it’s gonna be a thing you know? It won’t be the last time.”

Eventually Steve chips in. “I know mine are easier to hide, so I don’t like, know how it is, exactly, but… but people see them and then they’ll forget about them. People look out of curiosity, you can’t stop that, but then they just, they’re not bothered, you know? Like, your fans—“

“Fans?’ Eddie scoffs.

“Yeah, fans! They’re not gonna give a fuck, man. I know that doesn’t really help, not right now, but…  I think it’ll get easier.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Eddie says under his breath. He rolls his head to the side, making eye contact for the first time.

Steve kicks his jeans off and they climb under the covers, Steve’s back against his.

“You know when you’re rich and famous, first thing you need to do is get a bigger bed. This is ridiculous.”

Eddie can’t help himself, lets the giggles take him, feels Steve’s arm wrap around his waist and pull him close. He finds himself being infinitely grateful to his friends for knowing what he needed, and infinitely grateful for Steve Harrington.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hear me out!

I had an idea

So remember where Wukong had some memory loss of the present and thought he was in the past? And that he drank a love potion right? Well while tang and pigsy was helping him out, he saw the shy yet sweet female reader ( who was just waiting for them to come back since she was on a look out for thier stuff ) took off her hair tie and does that hair flip and shook her hair alittle before seeing them coming back.

I got this idea by listening to this song called “ might start singing ” by wuvv . I thought the part where wukong just caught her on time doing that sexy hair flip and looks at him smiling ( yes I’m going for those movie scenes where the character falls for the other by a song that plays in the background if that makes sense lol ) I hope this was okay!

This totally makes sense and I love this idea! I hope you like it!

“Love bound” Amnesiac!Wukong x reader (love potion)

This whole mess you were in felt like a fever dream and the cherry on top was amnesiac Wukong who went to retrieve the kidnapped Tang with Pigsy like the routine shenanigan on Wukong’s Journey. When you, Tang, and Pigsy were trapped in the van and Pigsy shoved the dangerously hot pepper in the sage’s mouth you opted to sit on the edge of the van while the others were getting used to being seen as their reincarnations.

You sighed and put your head in your hands, hoping that Mk and others were having better luck with finding the rings or making progress on your mission. Through one of the little cracks of your hands, you saw movement and lifted your head to pull back in surprise to see Wukong staring at you puzzled. His face focused and his nose scrunched up like he was trying to figure out if he knew you. Probably what the hell some random woman that wasn’t there yesterday was doing on the journey of his.

“Who are you? I don’t remember you being here last night or before that and you’re not a demon.” he trailed off and his eyes glowed gold as if to double-check that you weren’t in fact a demon before going back to their regular shiny gold. Wukong’s head tilted and you snapped out of your trance. “Yeah, I’m Name. I came from a nearby village to help with a mission to save your master,” you said hesitantly and partially lied since it wasn’t entirely false.

He hummed and nodded, looking you up and down before smiling a bit. All of them went back to their attempt at finding Tang, looking at Pigsy and whispering that you were going to stay here with the van and their stuff. He nodded and looked like jealous since he was suddenly snatched by Wukong’s tail and ran off.

You let out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, failing to suppress the blush painting your face and replaying the adorable personality of Wukong’s past self. His lack of attention and similarity to an energetic child was cute. Your crush was pretty evident given you all had been in the van for the past couple of days and your interactions were mostly quiet short ones.

That didn’t mean he didn’t make small teases and small conversations that flustered both of you a tad. It was a while until they got back and you guessed that more than one problem had happened. Tang and Pigsy were arguing while Wukong was looking more affectionate and soft. You took your hair out of your band and flipped it, massaging your roots to fluff it up and ease the strain of the tightness.

You tossed your head back up and made a noise of surprise when Wukong was close to your face, both of you smiling widely with flustered expressions and noticing that your crush had heart-shaped pupils. This only confirmed your suspicions and laughed softly when Wukong wrapped his tail around your arm. Nuzzling your chest and cheeks as he ran his claws through your hair and was seemingly fascinated with it.

“Pigsy? Can you explain why Wukong is suddenly a cuddle bug and lovey-dovey?” you asked and walked over with the mystic monkey still clinging to you. He turned rubbing his eyebrows and sighed. “While we were rescuing Tang Monkey King was eating the scorpions on the table and accidentally ate a bottle of what is probably a love potion. Probably to make Tang stay with the Scorpion queen and all,” he said and groaned, packing up the camping stuff and failing to get Tang from running up the hill to find a bolder for something.

Meanwhile, you and Wukong were cuddled up with each other just outside the van, taking advantage of the situation by snuggling with him and smiling when he started purring. However, it all ended when Pigsy yanked you from getting crushed by a bolder that was meant for Wukong because of “amnesia rules” and thanked him for saving you but couldn’t help the disappointment when he returned to normal.

[anystalker707]

an ironic, bitter joke

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: you're a forensic doctor who works for GCPD, and there seemed to me remains of the fear gas in the crime scene. after such a day, your boyfriend is waiting for you at home to comfort you. Tags: comfort / there's no major description of the dead body / no major description of fear or panic attack

Requested by @sw33tsuccubus ["i know you’re busy a lot dear but hear me out. jonathan crane (i’m on a bit of a kick lately) fic. maybe he’s in a relationship with a forensic scientist who ends up going to one of scarecrow’s crime sites. (...)"]

MASTER LIST

          “The results of the last toxicology test seem a bit tricky. Maybe you could double-check?” Nygma raised his eyebrows lightly at you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forearm as he walked over to the sink and washed his hands.

You looked down at the papers before you, playing with the pens in your lab coat’s pocket. They wouldn’t be done or needed anytime soon, whether you wanted it or not, so you could busy yourself with something else in the meantime. Just as you were about to get up, the lab door opened, and one of the officers stood there.

“We need you two on the crime scene,” the officer said, looking down at the clipboard they had in hand, flipping one of the papers. “The van is leaving in a few minutes.”

You clicked your tongue. More work, more deaths. “Who?”

“Another one of those cases, fear stuff,” they said, turning the pages a few more times before placing the clipboard on the counter, and you shared a look with Nygma. “We have some people there already. Fresh scene. You’ll catch the body warm if you’re fast enough.” They looked at the two of you.

“On it.” You promptly stood up, receiving an assertive nod from the officer before they left, cursing the police under your breath. They weren’t only harsh when dealing with criminals and society but also with the other areas within the GCPD, like forensics, for example. As much as you, Nygma, and the others hated it, you weren’t quite a fan of being hungry and in debt, and there weren’t that many job opportunities anywhere else. Legally, at least. Your name wasn’t big enough to take any chance in the underworld.

Separating the needed materials and getting ready to visit another crime scene was automatic, practically a sign for your brain to shut tight the door between feelings and professionalism. By now, it didn’t take much anymore, even more so after the peak in criminality that Gotham had been going through for a while already, transforming the usual living hell into something worse.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked into the van with the rest of the staff, giving your materials a last check.

The familiar rushed, nervous talk already permeated the air along with the strong smell of blood when you stepped out of the van, observing the crowd of officers and some other people standing there, with blood pooling on the ground not so far off. Occasionally, the sound of cameras going off would sharply echo, but everyone was too immersed in the situation to care.

Usually, a murder under a bridge down in the worst parts of Gotham wouldn’t raise that much of a commotion, though that wasn’t the case when it involved a politician—with a surname that matched one of the local mafia leaders—and characteristics of the last series of deaths, explaining Gordon’s presence there, too.

Formalities were dismissed as you walked under the yellow and black tape, approaching the corpse; Nygma stood back to exchange words with the others and grab the papers so that you could know the background a little better, to get an idea of what to look for.

It wasn’t the worst scene you’d ever seen, but still far from the best. Your case was left somewhere away from the drops of blood as you crouched next to the body. Rigor mortis hadn’t started to settle in yet, meaning it hadn’t been two full hours ever since that man’s heart stopped beating. Similarities to other cases were evident, looking like the person had died in panic, with sighs of despair like tugging on their own hair or scratching themselves, trying to run away or escape, even if they weren’t in a closed place. Sometimes it had a few differences, but the basics remained the same.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked for any sign of puncture, despite never finding them in any of the bodies, so you still had to make a background check to know if something else could’ve intoxicated them. You inhaled deeply while leaning a little closer to the corpse, trying to catch any sketchy smell, but there seemed to be nothing, as usual, even though this was the freshest body you’d gotten access to so far.

Even with the lack of any strange smell, something suffocated you, making it harder to breathe. Was there something really toxic? No, there hadn’t been anything like that in the last cases. Everyone else in there was fine. A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your breath hitched, and you couldn’t understand what stirred in your chest, your heart palpitating with the sudden discomfort.

The surrounding sounds turned muffled and distorted, your throat went dry, and your hands started to sweat. Was it getting darker already? The sun was just starting to set when you left the GCPD.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and your blood drained when you looked up to see a blurry, dark figure standing there, looming over you. You screamed without even realizing it, unable to say anything, every word turning into a scream as you fell back and tried to crawl away from the black figures that kept surrounding you, your heart hammering in your chest. You were alone, in the dark, without any family, without your boyfriend, without anyone.

𓆩𓆪

          Your mind was still distant, messy, even after you woke up in the infirmary. Reality would come and go, something like when you’d been awake for way too long, making it hard to process beyond two of the uncountable questions that the doctors made you.

“You seemed… afraid,” Nygma said, furrowing his eyebrows as he helped you stand, holding your bag in one of his hands, and followed you out of the department. Everyone had said that to you before, and you do remember being afraid, wanting to run away and cry, but you simply couldn’t remember why. “Can you really go home by yourself?”

“I’m taking a cab, my boyfriend is home, waiting for me, anyway,” you sighed, still haunted by the awful feeling from earlier. When did your thoughts mix up with dreams? How much of it was reality? Knowing how far you could trust yourself was hard, but hopefully seeing Jonathan would help you return to reality. You’d forgotten about Nygma before he stood beside you again, handing your bag to you, saying something that sounded like gibberish, and you were too tired to ask him to repeat.

Everyone had been talking to you the entire time, ever since you woke up with the IV line in your arm, with sweat making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin and your muscles sore from the exaggerated tension. The unexplainable fear you’d felt on the crime scene was now a ghost that haunted the back of your mind, making your breath hitch whenever something caught you off guard. In a way, it was something like a hungover, but still not quite.

“Make sure to rest and drink a lot of water,” Nygma reinforced when a cab pulled up, squeezing your shoulder before you waved at him and moved to get in the car.

The drive home felt way too fast, and the numbers escaped your grasp when the driver told you the price, so you just told him to keep the change before handing him some crumpled bills and leaving the car.

Unlike the GCPD, home was warm and comfy, with a comforting smell that immediately calmed you down when you stepped past the doorway. Jonathan’s shoes were already behind the apartment’s door, his coat hung nicely as you hung yours as well. Just the sight made your heart warm.

“Sweetheart? I bought us some dinner from that restaurant you like. Also, some dessert because…” Jonathan trailed off as he walked out of the kitchen and saw you standing there by the doorway, his face falling. He was wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt only, without his tie, which was a rare sight. His eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his lips together, pushing his glasses up. “Love? You look… pale.”

You raised your eyebrows and took a deep breath, trying to get some sense of yourself so that you could answer him. “I had an incident at work,” you stated. “I went to investigate and collect materials in a fresh crime scene under a bridge, but people think I was intoxicated. I started… hallucinating? I don’t know. I was afraid. Seemed like a panic attack.”

Jonathan’s expression fell into a frown at the same time his shoulder dropped as he looked at you from head to foot before stepping closer, cupping your face in his hands, and turning your head from side to side before his thumb tugged on the skin under your eye. “Did they have you checked?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “They ran a blood test, medicated me and stuff, but I’m still…” You made a vague motion to indicate the haze that clouded your mind, focusing on the warmth of Jonathan’s hands on your skin, the care in his gaze as he observed you.

Jonathan felt bad. He tried his best to muffle down that feeling that bubbled up inside his chest by focusing on caring for you, holding onto your shoulders before he gave your hips a squeeze when he looked you up and down to make sure he didn’t miss any detail, anything. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he adjusted his glasses again before nodding and kissing your cheek softly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, taking your bag and leaving it on the floor before he hugged you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “Or better, why didn’t anyone in the GCPD call me? Do they not have mine as one of your emergency numbers? Love, I—” His words came to a halt when you groaned softly. “Sorry, I’m just very worried,” he exhaled heavily, hugging you tighter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you. You have a dangerous job, sweetheart.”

The irony of it all was a bitter joke that made Jonathan mad. To think that his fear gas—the one he had created to overcome his enemies and to protect you—had affected his own partner. Though, it did make him wonder how and why the gas had stuck around for so long. He was just supposed to get rid of the obstacles, clean the trash, not disturb his beloved partner! Jonathan wanted to strangle himself for a moment, but something—well, someone—else needed his attention right now. He kissed your cheek a few times more, hoping to ease both you and his anger.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” Jonathan caressed your face, and his heart fluttered and sank when a small smile tugged on your lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled with a nod. A sigh escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around Jonathan, leaning into his touches, nuzzling his shoulder. “I just needed to rest. I really wanted to see you,” you whispered. “Be with you.”

“Of course, love,” he whispered and kissed your shoulder in return, staring at the wall while holding you there. “I’m here for you.” The words were true, even if most things about him weren’t, but he needed to keep you around, to keep the only person he loved happy, the only person who brought him a sense of reality. You were the main reason he kept trying to be better, to get a better life, even if his means weren’t the best.

“I’ll get a shower ready for you,” Jonathan said, interrupting himself from overthinking and also cutting through your thoughts. “Get you into some nice clothes, then we can have dinner, and we’ll go to bed, hm? How does that sound?” He squeezed you a little before stepping back and holding your hands in his, with a soft smile. “You’ll feel better in no time. You should call in sick tomorrow. Take the day off to rest. You deserve it.”

Jonathan swallowed dryly, trying to seem as natural as possible, his thumbs running over your knuckles gently.

“Okay,” you gave in reluctantly, making relief wash over Jonathan, and he was sure that taking a day off Arkham just to take care of you wouldn’t be much of a problem. He just needed to make a few calls.

That counted as some sort of redemption, right? Jonathan ruined you, but he’d fix you. He smiled a little before he gently walked with you to the bathroom, letting you sit down on the toilet’s lid while he helped you undress while the water ran, warming up.

“I love you, okay?” Jonathan whispered. “I love you, no matter what.”

༺♡♱⋆𓆩𓆪⋆♱♡༻

[elektramustdie]

take it

WARNINGS - daddy kink ??? unprotected sex ( don’t be silly wrap that willy ) dacryphila?? rough sex. brendon urie mentioned.

You were at the underground a bar, watching your boyfriend Mikey perform. You sat alone at the bar, sipping on something sweet and fizzy the bartender made you, on the house. 

Someone approached you, introducing himself as Brendon, He didn't leave when you mentioned you had a boyfriend, but he didn't make any moves on you either, he was just speaking to you, so you didn't feel concerned about it.

The only rule you and Mikey had about hanging out with other people is as long as they're not into you, it's totally fine. Because usually, Mikey is a pretty level headed guy, especially when it comes to you. He loves you, and trusts that you love him, and only him.

However, there are a few people that push Mikey’s buttons just by existing. You knew about Ryan Ross  but who you didn't know about was Brendon Urie lead singer of Panic! at the disco another band that frequents gigs at The Underground. And an pain in Mikey’s ass.

And now, he was leaning against the bar talking to you while Mikey played the rest of his show.

And Mikey was getting pissed off.

He didn't like the idea of this guy talking to you, but what he really hated was that this guy was using you to get a rise out of him, and worse yet, it was fucking working. Mikey’s neck was getting hot, and he'd long lost his usual grin. Instead, it was replaced with a tight scowl, a really annoyed grimace that probably would've signalled something was wrong if you would just look at Mikey.

But no, you were talking with Brendon, sipping on your drink. He could tell from there that you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You saw the best in people, and if you had said you weren't interested, you would trust the other person to take that as an answer. But Mikey knew better. Mikey knew that Brendon wasn't just trying to make a new friend, he was trying to ruin Mikey’s night.

By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was far too late. Mikey had already decided that you needed to be taught a lesson.

And once you're in hell, only the devil can get you out.

You noticed Mikey’s grimace, and put two and two together when you saw your new friend waving at Mikey, smug smile on his face. 

"Do you know Mikes?" you asked, growing suspicious. 

"Oh yeah," he said, making sure Mikey was looking at him before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We go way back."

You reacted quickly, getting out of your chair and smacking that guys hand away from you. You were clearly telling him off, but Mikey just wished you would get away from that guy.

Mikey, still not angry with you, was fuming. Brendon had touched you. He touched you without your permission, and you felt uncomfortable, Mikey could see that. The music turned aggressive, and his bandmates could see the scene unfolding in front of them, and they didn't know what was going to happen.

After cutting the song short, Gerard announced their set was over. 

The band looked at each other questioningly, as there was still supposed to be another few songs, but they wrapped up anyway, unplugging their instruments and beginning to disassemble. Mikey threw the van keys to Frank, and didn't say a word as he rushed over to 'save' you.

You met Mikey halfway, trying to assure him that you didn't do anything. Brendon was behind you smirking at the damage he'd done to Mikey’s mood. 

"Baby," he cooed, rubbing your arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him." Mikey nodded over to Brendon, and followed up by flipping him off. "Go over with Gerard, okay? I wouldn't trust this guy near your drink." Mikey plucked the beverage out of your hands, and while he doubted that Brendon did anything to it, he just wasn't willing to risk it. 

Mikey stormed over to Brendon, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 

"If you ever lay your hands on her again, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will killyou."

"Death threats? Mikey, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? She was totally into it."

"If you interpret recoiling as into it, you're a predator." Mikey had to get out of here before he did something he would regret. Before he got the band barred from the only place they could find to play. "Stay away from us."

"Whatever, nerd."

Mikey let go of Brendon’s shirt, turning on his heel and focusing on just getting back to you and calming down. Was he mad? Jealous? Pissed off? Yes, yes, and yes.

"Mikey?" you asked, as he approached you, but he didn't answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you close, closing the gap between you and laying a big, fat kiss on you in front of everyone. You melted into him, not really caring who saw. Mikey loved pda, always had, loved showing everyone that you were his, and he was yours. 

His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you as he leaned into you, bending your back and forcing your chest into his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking in the intoxicating smell of him. Mikey, sweat covered and sexy.

"Mikes," you mumbled against his mouth, "let's pack up and just get out of here," you said, pulling away from him finally.

"Yeah," he agreed, "good idea." 

And you could see the fire in his eyes. You could feel the way he tried to push into you. You were in trouble, but you weren't scared, you were excited.

"Are you ready to help us pack up?" Ray asked, "or would you just like us to watch you make out some more."

"No one was forcing you to watch," Mikey said, his tone level and casual. None of his usual joking manner. "I'll bring the van around."

Mikey pulled you behind him. He wouldn't be letting you alone with that guy fucking lurking around. You were guided out the back door, and through the dark parking lot behind the bar. Mikey always parked in the same corner, far enough away from the door where he could secure a quick deal or two during his shows.

Even through the rage, you thought he was being a perfect gentleman by opening the passenger side door for you, but you should've known better. In this mood, you should've expected him to be dirty, dirty, dirty...

When you moved to get in, he pushed you down, bending you over the seat. With your ass in the air, he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees, immediately smacking your ass three fast times. It stung, the sudden intrusion of pain was a delightful surprise. He groped your ass for a second, mumbling something about it being his. 

"I fucking love this ass," he muttered, sliding his fingers down through your already soaking wet folds. "And this pussy."

Two rough fingers found your clit, rubbing small, quick circles around the little bud. 

"I need to get you home," he said, plunging those fingers inside you. "Like, right now."

"We should h-help pack up," you said, only to be met with another smack on your ass from his free hand. He wasn't holding you down, you could've easily asked him to stop and he would've. But you didn't want to. And he knew that.

"Just need a minute," he said, falling to his knees. The concret scraped his knees, but he didn't care. He needed this to calm down. Then he could go pack up and get you home and deal with the rest of his frustrations. "Jus' a little taste," he whispered, leaning forward and diving into your pussy like it was the cure to all his problems. Which it kind of was, honestly. 

One hand was gripping your thigh, right where it met your ass, holding it open so he could lick, and suck and just taste you. The other hand, slid around you to rub slow circles on your clit again, but not enough to get you off. He didn't want to overwhelm you already, and he definitely didn't want you to cum yet.

“mikey," you moaned, biting your hand to keep quiet. "They're waiting for us."

"Don't care," he mumbled, continuing to eat you out, right there in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something here in the parking lot, but it was the first time where you weren't hidden inside the van. 

"Mikey," you moaned, as he licked up your slit and dipped into your tight little hole with his tongue, before pulling away entirely, letting the cool breeze blow across your wet centre, and you whined, wishing he would continue. He laughed, leaving your clit behind to grip both your ass cheeks in his calloused hands, the rough fingers felt amazing against your soft skin. He bit one of your ass cheeks, and kissed the other. And then slapped both at the same time. 

And you got ready for him to fuck you. But instead he tucked his erection into the band of his jeans, and pulled your panties back up. He fixed your skirt, and then guided you to sit in the van.

"You're so good," he mused, his bad mood already lessening. "So beautiful."

You blushed, suddenly bashful about what he'd done.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here," he said, closing the passenger door and rushing around to the front. He drove to the otherside of the lot, completely unfazed by his voyeuristic tendencies. 

The guys were already moving stuff outside, and leaving it by the backdoor.

"We were afraid to come over there," Frank joked, loading stuff into the back. He found it even funnier when he caught the blush creeping over your neck and cheeks. He didn't say anything else about it. But he knew that there was some truth to it all.

"Just hurry up," Mikey said, impatience catching up with him. "I'm in a bad mood, I just fucking hate that guy."

"Yeah, that guy is a dick." Gerard shook his head. "But it's not like she would've let him do anything."

"Obviously," he muttered, and closed the back of the door. "It pisses me off that he would even try to use her like that though, like she's less of a person. It's just, it's gross."

"It is gross," he agreed. "Well, we're out of here. I think we will catch a ride with Ray. You seem, uh... busy."

"I think that's for the best."

The drive home was silent, except for the radio playing quietly between you. Mikey’s hand gripped your thigh, tightly, possessively. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to fuck you. All the ways he was going to make you cum. All over his face, his cock, his fingers. He couldn't think about anything else. He loathed the idea that Brendon probably thought he could get with you. It made it him fucking furious. The more he stewed about it, the more angry he got. 

It was time to remind you that there was no one on Earth that could fuck you like he can. 

He trusted you fully, but he was going to remind you anyway.

"Mikey?" you asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm sure, my love." He traded his grip on your thigh for your hand, which he brought to his lips to place several chaste kisses to your knuckles. It was sweet how much you cared about his feelings, and boundaries. "I just need to make sure you're properly fucked. I've been fucking you softly lately, and I love that," he smiled, and you were blushing, the topic of conversation making you bashful, "but it's time for Daddy to really fuck your brains out."

"Mikey!" 

"Time to make my princess cum again and again," he continued, "until you're screaming and begging me to stop." He continued to kiss your hand as he spoke, "but you won't want me to stop, not really."

"Don't be dirty," you whispered, shy about the way he was speaking to you. But you loved it. You were soaking wet, clenching your thighs together, thinking about all the ways Mikey would have you. All the ways you would totally and fully give yourself to him.

“Oh baby," he cooed, "tonight we will be filthy, and I think," he let go of your hand, "I'll start now."

And with that he slipped his hand between your thighs, pushing them open. He wasted no time in grabbing your panties, yanking them over to the side and slipping his fingers between your folds. 

“So fucking wet," he moaned, slipping a finger inside you, "and so fucking tight." He groaned, taking the finger out and popping it into his mouth. "And sweet." 

You were breathing heavily, so turned on by how Mikey was acting. He'd dominated you before, but this was different. Like he was trying to prove something. He was trying to prove to himself that he was the right one for you, that he was the one you wanted and needed. 

"I want you to be good for me tonight," he said, moving back between your legs and fingering you again. This time with two thick fingers, and his thumb on your clit. He knew everything by feel, his eyes never left the road. He knew where to touch, and what to do to please you. "Just do what I say and you'll be rewarded."

"Okay," you whispered, speechless at what was going on. You pulled your knee up onto the passenger side door to give him more access to you. To let him in deeper.

“Good girl," he cooed, "off to a good start."

He removed his hand again, and you whined at the loss of contact, but he shut you up by sticking his fingers into your mouth. "Taste that, honey? It's my favourite thing in the world." He kept his fingers in your mouth for a moment, until he felt your tongue swirl around the digits. "You're gunna suck my cock as soon as we get inside your house, and you're not gunna stop until I tell you to stop."

You nodded, and he pulled his fingers out, returning to gripping your thigh like at the start. You were throbbing, thinking 'please touch me again,' over and over and over in your head until you were sure he knew what you were thinking, because his smug smirk returned. 

"Look at you, fucking begging for it, looking at me like that isn't gunna be enough, doll. You're not calling the shots tonight."

“Can I suck your cock now?" you asked, and he smiled.

"No," he said. "Keep your hands to yourself."

And suddenly your hands were magnets, and he was what they were attracted to. You wanted to touch him, to play with his hair, or his jacket. Touch his thighs, or any piece of exposed skin you could find. You needed him. You wanted him to be inside you, anyway possible. The lay restlessly on your lap, just keening to touch him.

You clenched your thighs together again, and Mikey tutted at you. "Don't do that, your pleasure is all for me tonight."

"Mikey..." you whined, hiking your leg up higher, trying to entice him to return to his work between your legs. But he didn't budge, just smirked as you whined and writhed in his passenger seat. He loved it like this, he liked how fucking feral you got for him. 

And he especially loved how smug it made him when one of the guys sat in that seat, knowing all the dirty things he'd done to you in this van. 

He killed the engine, parking crooked in your driveway. No one was home, it was a recipe for a perfect night. 

"Don't even have to be quiet," he mused, "you're really in for it, pretty girl."

And you were quick to exit the van, and excitedly head into the house. You were only a few steps in, leaning on the wall and trying to kick your shoes off when Mikey slammed the front door, grabbing your hand and turning you back around to him.

“I said 'as soon as we get inside'," and he pulled you down until you feel on your knees. "I didn't say take anything off." 

He pushed your face into his bulge, the jean rubbing against your cheek, and the zipper cold on your nose. 

You undid his belt above you, fumbling because you couldn't really see it. You pulled it through the loops, and he grabbed it from you before you could discard it.

"Take my pants off," he muttered, letting go of your hair. And you obeyed, tongue tied and soaking wet. Throbbing in your panties. Mikey had never been like this. And you wanted more. You wanted more than you knew.

While you worked on his jeans, he wrapped the belt around your neck. Not to choke you, but to hold it there, as if it was a promise. A promise to keep you in line. You sucked your lip into your mouth, salivating at the sight of his dick springing to life, free from the confines of his ripped jeans. His sexy, sexy ripped jeans. 

You started teasingly, licking the underside of his dick slowly, but he yanked the belt, causing it to tighten ever so slightly. "I said, suck my dick!" he raised his voice, annoyed that he had to repeat himself a third time. 

You whimpered, putting the tip in your mouth, and he thrusted into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat as you choked and gagged. 

"If you want to stop at any point just tap twice or say red," he said, a softer tone taking over for a moment, he pulled back a bit, making you look up at him, "tap twice now if you understand."

You tapped his leg twice, and then you gagged on his dick as he thrusted it down your throat again. "Good girl," he muttered, dick twitching at the view he had. Belt wrapped around your throat like a leash, tears filling your eyes and his dick hit the back of your throat. You didn't even have to move, because Mikey couldn't control himself from grabbing your hair, and guiding you to suck his dick exactly how he wanted it.

Mikey was fucking your face, a foot from the front door. If anyone came onto the porch they'd hear the wet squelching of Mikey thrusting into your mouth, or the coughing caused by the intrusion. 

"That's fucking unreal, princess," he muttered, throwing his head back and his continued gripping your hair by the roots, moving your head up and down on his thick cock. "You take daddy so well."

Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of your ignored pussy, while Mikey takes his pleasure. "You look so pretty like this," he said, returning his attention to you. Tears made their escape down your cheeks, dragging your mascara with them. 

He gave the belt some slack, and you backed off of him, sucking in a few big gulps of air. 

"I didn't know you could take it so good, baby," he cooed, "Daddy's good little slut."

You nodded eagerly, not sure if you were allowed to talk or not. You leaned forward to take him back in your mouth, doing everything you had been before, but without Mikey’s guiding hand, you did it yourself, shoving his cock to the back of your throat where you coughed and gagged around him. 

His groans were delightful. Mikey moans were music, filling you up with pride and desire. You pulled away again for some more air, and he looked at you with a devilish smirk.

"Come up here," he said, yanking on the belt, forcing you back to your feet.

The belt dangled when he let it go, and he just looked at you for a second. Your hair was messy, cheeks covered in wet makeup, puffy lips, belt hanging loosely around your neck, and glossy eyes that made Mikey swoon, for just a moment. And then he smirked, rubbing his thumbs across your cheek, trying to remove some of the mascara, but he just smudged it more. He smiled.

"Did you like that?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were liking this otherside of him. You nodded. "Why don't you bend over that couch over there? Hmm? Show me that ass i love so much."

You did as he asked, bending yourself over the armrest of the couch. Irritated by all the clothes still on, but Mikey said not to take anything off, and you wanted to be his good girl. Even your sneakers were still on.

You looked behind at him, and he had taken all his clothes off, and was roughly palming his cock in his hand. One finger looped around your panties, yanking them down your legs and off, landing somewhere on the floor. He winked at you, making you blush. He gripped your ass tightly.

He spread you open, he slides his cock down to the wet, sopping hole of your pussy, testing the readiness of it by slipping the tip in. Your pussy basically sucked him in, begging him to give it to you. "So fucking wet and ready baby, so fucking good for me." 

Instead of fucking you like you desperately needed, he just popped the tip in and out a couple times, spreading your wetness down to your clit and up to your ass. 

And then he was lined up to your pussy again, holding himself at your hole, and you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, glossy eyes begging for him.

"Why so quiet, princess? I want to hear you," he said, moving his cock down to your clit again, and then right back up to your centre.

"Please," you begged, voice breaking with anticipation.

"Please what?" 

"Please... please fuck me Daddy," you begged, "please fuck me, I've been so good, I want it. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" you begged.

And in one swift movement he grabbed the belt again, yanking it tight, constricting your throat just enough for you to feel the threat of choking, and also thrusting himself fully inside you. You screamed at the sudden invasion, but it felt so fucking good. The belt slightly constricting you, forcing your head back, and Mikey suddenly balls deep inside you made you scream you loved it so much. His other hand gripped your ass, the skirt bunching up in his palm.

Like how he treated your face, he was roughly fucking into you, each pump going all the way out before slamming back in. Each move was calculated, your head being forced back felt... so fucking good. He slapped your ass, flipping your skirt up. 

You muttered unintelligible syllables, just grunts and moans as he took all of you. 

You were taking him so well, your pussy was gripping him so tightly. Fuck, Mikey couldn't take it, but he didn't want to cum yet. Didn't want it to end.

You were breathing heavy, getting close to finishing, and Mikey could feel it. He knew the signs of your orgasm, and right when you were about to fall off that edge, he stopped entirely, pulling out and letting your orgasm shatter to pieces, not giving you any sense of relief. Instead, you were left with a painful thump in your clit. 

Mikey touched it slowly and softly, giving nowhere near enough to coax you back to your orgasm, but enough to soothe the throbbing of neglect your poor pussy felt.

You whined, trying to push yourself back on him, and it made him chuckle. You looked so desperate for him. You wanted him. And Mikey finally got back his confidence that he was the only one for you. A fact you'd never doubted.

He loosened the belt, taking it off completely, and flipped you over, so you were standing again, leaning back against the couch. He moved your hair out of the way to make sure he didn't do any damage, and he didn't. It was just a little red, with a few small marks where the edges had rubbed into you. But he'd never pulled it tight enough to hurt you. 

And then his movements were caring, just for a moment, just enough time to slide off your skirt, and then your shirt and bra. He slowly undressed you, stroking his cock slowly. He worshipped your body, hands dragging slowly across all newly exposed skin.

"So fucking pretty, baby," he said, "and you take it so well, who knew you had this kind of ... perseverance?"

"I want to cum," you pouted, "and I want you to fuck me full."

Mikey’s eyes widened at your words, and his usual cheeky grin returned. "Oh, baby, you don't even know what you're asking for," he groaned, biting his bottom look as he took in your disheveled appearance.

"Yes, I do," you challenged, "please?"

And he pushed you back, letting you fall onto the couch cushions. And you crawled backwards as he climbed over the couch, stalking up your body like you were his prey. 

He wedged himself in between your thighs, lining him up with your pussy and shoving it back in, hitting every part of you. He stayed still inside you, every inch of him covered with you. And he kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue, teeth, with his hands. He was all over you, covering every sense and taking the attention of all your thoughts. 

"I love you," he muttered, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered.

"Good," he smirked, "now take it."

And he was thrusting into you like he didn't love you at all. Hitting every part of you that was only for him to hit. Each slap of his hips hitting into your thighs it hurt, but only in the most pleasurable way. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him, trying to somehow bring him in harder, deeper.

One hand by your head, holding him up, the other latching around your throat as he kissed you, all tongues and sloppy. the only sounds being the squelching of your painfully wet pussy and your tiny whimpers, being lost in his mouth.

"I want you to cum," he said, pulling himself away from your mouth, keeping his eyes locked onto your as you moaned under him, breathless and sweaty. "Now, I want you to cum now," he said, angling himself differently, and thrusting harder, hitting you in a spot that made you feel like you were gunna explode.

You were going to explode, especially when he ordered, "touch yourself, make yourself cum."

Like a good girl, you rubbed small circles over your clit, helping him bring yourself back to that ledge you so desperately wanted to jump off. 

Your walls tightened around him, and it was different. It was different than every other time. You were chanting his name, moaning "Mikey," over and over until you came, screaming his name and feeling elecricity down to your toes. Every part of you was on fire, and your muscles tightened, pulling him in closer while you squirted, for the very first time, soaking Mikey and the couch, pushing him out of your pussy.

He moved quickly, putting two fingers roughly inside you and moving them with ferocity as he coaxed you through the biggest orgasm you'd ever had. You screamed, loudly, honestly worrying Mikey that the neighbours would hear, so he clamped another hand over your mouth, keeping the noise contained. Your muffled screams just coaxed him to an orgasm on their own, he was sure of it.

He had been close to his climax, but this new change of events was okay with him. He could've cum just from knowing how well he satisfied you.

Your heavy breathing continued for a minute, and in a cock drunk state you looked at him, smiling stupidly while he just watched you, still softly fingering you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"I made you squirt," he said, stupid, goofy grin all over his face. He continued stroking his fingers in you.

"You didn't cum," you pouted, looking at his still rock hard cock. 

"Guess we'll have to just start all over again, pretty girl, but why don't we get you some water first."

And before you understood what was happening, two were standing in the kitchen, Mikey bending you over the counter and slipping his cock back inside you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, and to get his fingers back on you clit. Your back pressed into his chest, and he pumped into you slowly.

"More," you muttered, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Hmm," he mused, grinning down at the sight of your ass slapping against his abdomen. "I don't know if you can take it..." 

"I can," you whined, trying to fuck yourself harder on his cock, but his arms restricted you, not letting you take what you wanted. 

“Tell me you can take it," he said, "convince me that you can take it."

And you wriggled free of his grip, climbing onto the counter and laying on your back. Mikey watched with a grin on his face, as you spread your legs wide for him, angling yourself at the perfect height for him to ravage you again. He took his place between your thighs, and rubbed himself up and down on your pussy.  

"I can take it," you promised, "I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, continuing to slide his tip through your juices, leaving a trail down to your ass. He popped the tip into your pussy, pulling it out almost immediately. 

"Please," you whined, "please fuck me, I can take it. I love it, I want you to hurt me. I want you to fuck me until you fuck me full of your cum. I want you to take it all out on me," you begged, staring straight into his eyes. 

“Dirty girl," he said. He loved when you broke out of your shell. When you could talk about all your dirty desires with him. "Let's go to bed," he said, wicked smile ever present. "I want to ruin you on those cute pink sheets of yours."

[acewritesfics]

Preferably Naked | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: Slightly cringy, a little suggestive.

Word Count: 1,273

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Where are you going?” Mumbling is heard behind Y/N as she ties the laces of her rundown pair of white sneakers. She turns her head to glance back at the young man who is moving to sit up, sleepily staring at her. 

She gives him a sweet smile. “I have work, and you have school.” 

“Do I have to go?” He moans and lays back on the mattress. 

“Would you like to graduate this year?” She stands up, spins around, and kneels next to him on the bed. She leans forward to brush her lips against his in a kiss. 

Two years ago, Eddie Munson was supposed to graduate from high school. That same year, Y/N had graduated. This year he’d been most committed to finally graduating. All his hard work and efforts were about to pay off. With just one more class to pass, he will be able to walk across the stage, flip off the principal, and exit the building for good. 

“Do you wish to discover my true desires?” He asks, yanking her down onto him, and gives her another kiss. He was using his dungeons and dragons talk. That was something he found himself doing often when trying to seduce her. Both of them were fantasy nerds, so Y/N has to admit it works for her. “For us both to call in sick and stay in bed the remainder of the day, preferably naked.” He adds taking in the horrible yellow uniform she was wearing. 

Y/N presses her lips to his once more before pulling away. She stands up and begins looking for the van’s keys so she can get something out of it before she leaves for work. “Even though I would really love to do that, the diner is currently short-staffed, and we need the cash if we want to get our own trailer after you graduate. "Where are your keys?” 

She hears him mutter something about the kitchen counter as he moves to get out of bed himself. She spots his keys lying there on the counter, in plain view, as she leaves their shared bedroom and enters the little kitchen area. She snatches them up, goes outside to the van, unlocks the door, and slides it open. She climbs inside the back and searches through one of the boxes that filled up one-third of the back area. 

Y/N and her parents had a heated confrontation a month ago. They disapprove of her relationship with the town “freak.” They also disagreed with her decision to not attend college immediately after she graduated from high school. Her parents expected her to go to medical school and pursue a profession in medicine, just like themselves. Her father is a neurologist and her mother is a paediatrician. Y/N accepted to go along with their plans for her up until her senior year, when everything changed for her. She realised that being a doctor wasn’t what she wanted to become. 

Of course, her parents accused Eddie of influencing her to change her mind. Her parents referred to him as “the man with no future” and believed he had manipulated her with his “fake” love and false promises to keep her where he wanted her. According to Y/N, if it wasn’t for him, his love, encouragement, and support, she would be still stuck in a life she was not happy in. She was able to realise she wasn’t being herself thanks to Eddie. She concealed the fact that she wasn’t just a smart nerd who received A+ grades on the majority of her assignments. She enjoys reading fantasy books, creating dragon and warrior princess stories of her own, along with drawing scenes to go along with the words she’s written. She also enjoys watching sci-fi and horror films and TV shows and listening to heavy metal music with Eddie. Eddie sometimes uses her creative skills for his D&D campaigns. 

Her greatest passion is art. Despite the disapproval of her parents, she continues to draw and paint. Her biggest supporter, her ever-loving boyfriend, constantly inspires and encourages her to pursue her passion for her creative outlet. She feels like she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to when her favourite metal head and Dungeon Master is by her side. She would be content if her future included residing in a trailer park with Eddie and spending her days doing art and writing.  

Eddie’s uncle Wayne didn’t think twice about welcoming her to live with them after her parents kicked her out of their home. Eddie is overjoyed at how well his girl and his only parental figure get along. Wayne acknowledges how valuable Y/N is to his nephew and was happy for and supportive of the young couple. Unfortunately, the trailer lacked the space to put everything she was allowed to bring from her parents’ house, so the less essential items remained in Eddie’s van until they found a place of their own. 

When she manages to find what she was looking for, she exits the van and waves to Max, the teenage girl who lives across from them. With a forced smile on her face, the young teen waves back. Y/N felt bad for the girl. She was aware that the previous year wasn’t easy for her. She made a mental note that she needed to visit Max later. 

She enters the trailer again and finds Eddie dressed and cooking breakfast. She sets her belongings down before approaching him and encircling his waist with her arms from behind him. “Can you take me to work today?” She asks him. 

“Of course.” He turns around in her arms, her hands moving over his hips. “Would you like me to pick you up as well?” 

“You have the Hellfire Club tonight. "I’ll get a ride home with Sally,” she replied, mentioning her favourite coworker, who lives close to the trailer park. 

He nods his head, letting her know he heard what she said, and he drops a kiss on her nose before kissing her lips. “I love you, my queen.” 

Returning the kiss with a grin, she responds, “I love you too, my king.” 

As their kiss intensifies, Eddie pulls her closer to him and digs his fingers into her hips, holding her tightly but not enough to hurt her. As he moves them back up against the wall and scoops her up, wrapping her legs around his hips, she grabs hold of his shirt, clinging tightly to him. The smell of burning food reaches her nose, interrupting their passionate make-out session before it could go any further. She pulls her face away from his, only for him to move his kisses to her neck. She struggles to contain a pleasure-filled moan. 

When she notices smoke pouring from the pan on the stovetop, she sighs, “Eddie.” She grabs his hair and gently pulls his head back when he doesn’t stop, causing him to look at her in bewilderment. “As much as I would love to continue this, the food is burning,” she alerts him. 

“Shit!” He curses while he gently releases her, before he rushes to the stove, takes the pan from the burner, and dumps it into the sink. He turns on the cold water faucet, causing the water to sizzle when it reaches the sizzling hot pan. 

“How about we leave in five and grab breakfast at the diner?” Y/N suggests from her spot, leaning against the wall. 

“Let me get my lunchbox and jacket, and then we can go.” He gives her one last kiss as he moves past her and back into their room to grab his things. 

[toulousewayne]

Catching Strays Pt:11🐈‍⬛💎✨

Red Hood x male!reader who’s a cat burglar with a similar M.O. to Catwoman who’s on a crime spree.

Summary:Your a Cat Burglar who’s dressed similarly to Catwoman. You enjoy the thrill of the chase.

————

"A long time ago, before I put on this mask, I was afraid of everything."

“Would you hurry up already, I would bleed out if you go any slower.” Jason threw his head back against the kitchen cabinets. Y/n scowled at him but finished the last stitch.

“You’re welcome asshole.” He cleaned up the counter as Jason placed a bandage on his arm and turned back to the cat burglar.

“Thank you, though I wouldn’t have gotten shot if someone wasn’t snooping in Black Mask’s office. And why were you even there?” He pulled back on his armor chest piece.

“I needed something, I didn’t rob him of that’s your concern.” He grabbed a laptop and put a flash drive inside it. Jason walked toward him and leaned over his shoulder.

He smirked leaning closer,”No way you got ahold of Rommie’s shipments and business transactions. Maybe you’re not so bad Cat.”

Y/n didn’t responded he continued to skim and scroll until he read a file. He pressed a few keys before abruptly standing.

“Going somewhere?” Jason grabbed his helmet and jacket as Y/n reapplied his cowl and goggles.

“Yes, somewhere you’re not going to be.” He opened the window and his wrist was grabbed my Red Hood.

“You could get killed, Black Mask isn’t someone who takes lightly to unwanted attention.”

He scoffed trying to pull his arm free but Jason wasn’t budging. “What’s to you, you’re just in a hurry to give my intel to the Bat and then throw me in a cell.”

“I don’t work for the Bat,I would with him and even that’s a stretch.” Y/n rolled his eyes and grew more frustrated.

“Look I don’t care about your relationship with the other vigilantes in the shithole of a city, I have things to do.” He kicked Red Hood’s shin which gave him the perfect opportunity to get free and climb through the window. Red Hood gets his footing back and goes after him up the fire escape.

“Stop!” He grabs his shoulder and is kicked again.

“Leave me alone. I don’t need your help.” He uses his claws to strike his chest.

“Damn, you normal kick a guy out after the second date?” Red Hood teased countering his attacks.

He hissed, “Most don’t make it past dinner. Look Red you’re cute but you’re getting on my nerves.” He back flipped out the way of a punch, then sidestepped Red Hood. He checked him to the ground while his balance was off. With Red Hood flat on his back he climbed onto him with his face inching from his red helmet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,and I don’t need a partner. I’ve done fine on my own.” Jason chuckled which made Y/n move a bit. He goes to move and is held down my Red Hood.

“Watch the hands pal.”

“I’m going with you, I know how Black Mask operates and plus you’re in no position to go anywhere.” It’s true he’s pinned my Jason’s arms.

“Fine Red you win.” He sighs. They get up and Red Hood presses a button on his belt. Soon the sounds a motorcycle stop below them.

“Your chariot awaits you.” Red Hood hopes on and motions for Y/n to get on.

“Such a gentleman.” Y/n wraps his arms around his waist.

“Hold on tight.” Red Hood barrels down the road and towards the highway.

“Where am I going Cat?” Red Hood moved between cars and continued past rush hour traffic.

“The Docks, there’s a shipment coming in tonight. Dock 23.”

———

The pair leaped over crates until the found several cars at a dock. Black Mask emerges from a van as it begins to rain lightly.

“Where is it?” He growled. Stray took his goggles and looked at the scene below.

“Don’t move yet.” Red Hood instructed. He too watched the scene unfold.

“We’re sorry boss, the shipment was supposed to be here.” Black Mask took a pistol from his jacket and shot the two goons in front of him.

“The rest of you idiots find that shipment. NOW!” Stray took Red Hood’s wrist and led him down the crates. The took turn the corner and three of Black Mask’s men are searching the crates with crowbars.

“Shall we?” He purrs,Red Hood cloaks his pistols and nods. Stray backflips into the light.

“Hiya boys.”

“It’s the fucking theif!” Stray cracks his whip knocking their weapons away. Red Hood drops down and makes quick work of two out of three. Stray quick slashes another’s back and knocks his face into a crate.

“To slow Red, we’ve got a lot of places to search.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that Cat, come this way.”

—-

The two enter a warehouse full of shipping containers and crates. Stray swiftly moves past rows of containers until he stops and walks down a long hallway.

“How do you know where to go?” Red Hood follows. They stop at a crate in the middle and he quickly opens the lid and removes a sliver briefcase.

“The intel I stole, I made sure to wipe it off their servers and meanwhile the shipment was brought in hours ago by the graveyard crew.”

Red Hood crosses his arms at him,”You slight cat.”

He tugs on the lock of the briefcase and opens it inside is a green vial.

“This is what he wanted?”

“And I’ll take if from your dirty paws Pussycat!” Black Mask and his men surround the pair.

“Fuck.” They both swear.

——

The two are tied to chairs back to back. Black Mask stands a few feet away eyeing the vial before placing it back into the briefcase.

“Who knew I had a cat problem and not a rat. It doesn’t make a difference now I’ve got what I need. And soon the fucking city will be back in the hands it needs.”

“By a murdering lunatic.” He slap Y/n which made Red Hood tug at his restraints. Black Mask sneakers.

“Don’t worry you just red bucket, I won’t hurt him to much, though I should break his fucking hands.” His henchmen had been pouring gasoline around the place and they quickly left as Black Mask grabbed the briefcase as the hanger door was left open.

“Well boys it’s been nice but I got a city to take back from freaks.” He took out a lighter and tossed it. Flames roared and grew swiftly engulfing the building.

“We*Cough* gotta get out.” Stray choked on the smoke. Red Hood had managed to get a knife out and cut his rope. He turned and freed Stray.

The tried to run toward the door but metal and structural damage collapsed and blocked it. Stray scanned the room and noticed the skylights.

“There.” He pointed having a much stronger cough. Jason took his hand and led him further in the building. Jason wrapped an arm around his waist and grappled them to the rooftops. They made it to the rooftop and laid there for a moment catching their breath. Jason took off his helmet and took several deep breaths.

“Are you hurt?” He asks. Stray took a few short breaks before sitting up.

“I think I’m fine. You know considering the circumstances.” Jason nods. He presses a button on his watch and he sighs.

“I’ve got some friends there on Black Mask’s trail.” Stray gets to his feet and walks over to the edge.

“This is my problem Red not yours.” Jason was on his feet and turned Y/n to him.

“This isn’t your fault unless you blacked out the last hour here. Black Mask did this—“

“Well it was my job to stop him!” Stray goes toward the ladder but Red Hood grabs his arm.

“Why,is taking him down suddenly your crusade?” It started raining again and this time Y/n couldn’t run out of Jason grasp.

“Because..Roman Sionis killed my Mother.” Tears began forming in the thief’s eyes. Jason watched him carefully and pulled him closer.

“Stray,I’m..I not sure what to say. I’m really sorry.” Stray wiped his tears.

“Please, don’t I don’t want your pity.” He pulled away from him and walked towards the edge of the roof.

“It’s not I understand what you’re going through.”

Stray chuckled, “Really? How about another curveball. Black Mask is also my Father. That’s why he killed her, he didn’t want anyone to know she found out a lot of stuff about his operations and rather than paying her off he killed her and made it look like she killed herself. So, No Red you don’t know what I’m going through. I’m going to kill him and you and your family aren’t going to stop me.” He leaped off the roof leaving Jason stunned for amount before he sighed.

“You heard that didn’t you?” He turned around to see Batman emerging from the shadows.

“I heard of enough, do you know where he’s going?”

“Nope,but I have to find him.” Batman nods and Jason leaps off the roof toward his bike. Batman watches as he races out toward the city as the lighting and thunder clash in the sky.