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#hot cop goddamn
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i know i piss on the yakuza wiki every so often but they were goated for putting masato down as ‘regular customer’ for yumeno’s wiki entry instead of ex-girlfriend or something
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queers-gambit · 7 months
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Two to Tango
prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 5.4k+
note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!
warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.
part one: God's Plan
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"
You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"
"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"
He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."
"What do you want?"
"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.
You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"
He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"
"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.
"Oh, someone's touchy."
"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."
You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"
"He's falling apart."
"O...Kay?"
"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."
"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.
"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."
"So, he needs his mother?"
Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."
"I'm not laughing."
"He needs you."
"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."
"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."
You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"
"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."
"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.
"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "
"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"
Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."
"Sucks to suck."
"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"
"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."
"How is talking to the man you love - "
"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."
"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."
You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"
He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"
"To say... What?"
"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."
You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.
"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."
"Really?"
"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"
He shrugged, "Maybe..."
"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."
"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."
"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."
"He won't go."
You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."
Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"
"What?"
"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"
"It's not even seven in the morning!"
"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."
You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.
When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.
"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."
"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.
"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.
The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "
"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"
He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.
"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.
"Carmy, we need to talk."
"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.
"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "
"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."
"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."
"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"
"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "
"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."
"Carmy," you sighed patiently.
"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "
"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."
"Nah, I'm okay - "
"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."
"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."
"Calling me desperate?"
"I didn't mean any of it."
"A bitch?"
"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."
You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."
"I don't deserve you."
"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."
"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.
"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."
"I know," he squeezed you tight.
"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.
"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."
"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."
"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."
"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."
"I don't deserve it."
"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."
He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."
"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.
"Move in with me - officially."
Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "
"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."
"Carmy."
He frowned, "I'm sorry."
"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"
He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."
You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."
"I'm fine - "
"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."
He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.
"Exactly why we're going back to yours."
Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"
You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"
You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."
He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.
"Okay?"
"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."
"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"
"I will be."
"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."
"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.
"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."
"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.
"Fair point - just one then - "
He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.
When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."
"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."
He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.
"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.
"We're talking it out."
He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."
"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"
He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"
"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."
Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.
When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.
"Why?" He whispered.
You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."
"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.
"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."
Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."
"It's okay, baby," you whispered.
"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"
"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"
He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.
You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.
"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."
You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.
"Why can't I get out?"
You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.
"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"
"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.
"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."
"Laid to rest."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"
"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."
"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."
"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.
When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.
"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."
"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."
He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.
"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.
"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.
"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"
"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"
"I don't want you t'clean after me."
"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"
"I feel better, yeah."
"Good."
"And I made up my mind."
"Hmm? About what?"
"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."
"Think you can handle that?"
He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."
You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."
"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.
True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.
You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.
Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.
You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.
They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.
You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.
Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.
And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 26
part 1 | part 25 | ao3
cw: period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use
He’s marching over the grass with a couple of varsity guys; two on his left, two on his right; V-formation like a flock of geese. Jason's at the head of the group, self-assured purpose of a leader, and it’s weird, seeing this little runt all grown up. The kid used to worship Steve; used to follow him around practices like a lost puppy, called him Captain before he’d even earned the role.
“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks. His voice is harsh, winded, winding up for a fight. Steve can see it in his stance: the tightening of his jaw, the clench of his friends’ fists. Plant your feet.
Steve’s gotta shut this shit down before it goes where it always does. Smashed plates, broken bones. All pissing contests flow toward the ocean or whatever.
“Nah, man,” he answers, standing up to dust himself off. The coke zips under his skin, makes him jittery and hot. Hard to play it cool. “We’re good. Busted my ass on the rocks; Munson was just helping me up.”
Munson. Like they’re buddies. Like Eddie’s thumb isn’t still damp from Steve’s tongue.
Jason doesn't seem to buy it. Little pastor-cop in training, he narrows his eyes and turns on Eddie. “Were you following him, Freak?”
Eddie's eyes flash in warning, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Steve shifts his weight to stand in front of him, and his fingers twitch around empty air. He wishes he had his nail bat with him; kind of wants to glue the handle to his palm.
Never know when monsters will come crawling out of the woods.
"Well?" Jason barks, "Answer me!"
His lackeys all pipe up then, the guy to his right sneering, "Not so talkative without his lunch table to stand on, is he?"
"Look at him shaking," adds another.
"Think he was trying to do some Satanic ritual shit while no one was looking?"
"I don't know," says the guy on Jason's left. "Looked like they were sucking each other off to me. Hey, maybe Harrington’s turned fag.”
“Andy!” Jason warns, and Steve—
Steve staggers forward with three arrows in his chest. One for every letter of that stupid fucking word that's been haunting him for years; raging fire in a black box in the far reaches of his brain, belching thick, black smoke, singing his fingertips whenever he gets close enough to touch it.
He wonders if Andy can taste the sulfur in it, too.
“No, go on,” he seethes, voice deadly calm when he lays a hand on Andy’s chest. Steeple his fingers, tips his chin. “Say it again; don't think I heard you right.”
Andy swallows hard, grinds his teeth; tenses to square off for the fight, but Jason throws an arm in front of him. "Easy," he says.
Easy. Down boy.
Andy snarls and backs off.
Jason lowers his voice, searching Steve's face. "You sure you're good? Can't be too careful with..."
His gaze slides over Steve's shoulder, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Steve's never wanted to risk a concussion more. "I'm fine," he grits out, balking at the diplomatic bullshit that's about to slither from his mouth. "Really. Thanks, though, man; appreciate you looking out for me."
Jason gives him a serious nod. "Any time."
“So, uh…” Eddie squints at Steve once Jason and his goons run along. His arms are hugged tight around his middle, and he's biting his lip; nervous jiggle of his leg. “How, um— How are we playing this, exactly?”
Steve scrubs at his face; swoons where he stands. Feels like all the blood's drained out of him without the adrenaline to prop him up. Goddamn, he's still so drunk. “Playing what?” he asks, confused.
Whatever it is, it’s already been played, hasn’t it?
Fight’s over; Steve’s exhausted. He just wants to go home.
But then Eddie shakes his head and tuts softly at the ground, his expression gone sour and sad, and there it is again. That feeling that Steve’s fucking everything up somehow.
He’s so tired of that feeling.
Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out a hand. Skims Eddie's side; leather jacket, bony hip, and then he hooks his pinky finger into the belt loop of his jeans. Tugs, just a little. Not hard enough to topple him, just—
Enough.
He hopes.
part 27
tag lists in separate reblogs with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content, comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
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ourautumn86 · 1 year
Text
playing dangerous
police! ellie williams x fem! dealer! reader
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pt2
summary; this really cute cop wants you to talk, and she perfectly knows how to make that happen.
cw; fingering, making out, orgasm denial, teasing, oral sex (r giving), choking, praising, degradation, mention of drugs and deals, mention of weed, usage of drugs, cuffing…
REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3
REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3
“Got you.” you groaned, her body pressing you up against the cold and harsh wall of the dark alleyway. You laughed when you felt her hands on you, registering you.
“Woah woah, get me a coffee first at least, wouldn’t you?” the officer turned you around, her auburn hair and green eyes popping under the dim lights. You smirked. “Got nothing on me, officer. Pinky promise.” you rose your pinky finger and she slapped it away, making you laugh.
If you weren’t high you would probably be scared shitless right now. You’d been caught by a police officer in the middle of a deal, and now she had you completely cornered in a goddamn hallway. You were trapped. This could get real bad.
“You’re definitely on something. Why don’t you tell me what it is, huh?” you sighed when her big and veiny hands took your face, her eyes focusing on yours to see how dilated your pupils were.
“I’m onto you, if that’s what you mean, officer.” you smirked and she huffed. Up this close you could see how long her lashes were and the little freckles decorating her cheeks. She was hot. Really hot. First cop you ever considered hot. And the weed on your system was making it much easier for you to forget that she was a cop. “Let’s get in the back of your cop car, officer.” you smiled at her, one of your hands coming up to rest on her chest. “You can ask me anything you want there.” you said, and she squinted her eyes.
“Anything?” her eyebrows perked up and you nodded.
“Anything.” you promised.
She looked away for a few seconds before sighing. Your smile only grew. The officer pulled her cuffs from her side and your eyebrows arched.
“ ‘S that for me? You gonna cuff me, officer?” you teased and she rolled her eyes.
“If you want me to go by your rules you’re gonna have to go by mine too, sweetheart.” that little and sarcastic nickname made you shiver. It sounded a little too good coming from her lips.
“Kinky.” you winked at her. “I like it.”
You handed her your hands and she cuffed you, a little more tighter than needed too, but you still liked it. You were down bad. She looked amazing on that fucking uniform.
She pulled you on the back, following right behind and closing the doors of the car with her keys once inside. It was cool, and the leather was comfortable on your back. You were too high for this. Now that you were so close you could smell her perfume. And god if you didn’t like it…
“Okay, now, tell me what you’re onto and who did you just sell it to.” she said, and you looked at her, silence filling the car.
“Why don’t you tell me your name first? Maybe I’ll tell you then.” you gave her a smile and her green eyes squinted at you. After a few seconds she huffed.
“Ellie.” she answered and your mind repeated it over and over again. It sounded just as pretty as her.
“Hmmm…” you hummed, leaning closer, your eyes on her lips as you cocked your head to the side while looking at her. “Pretty.” “My name is y/n, by the way.”
“Yeah, whatever. Now. Tell me what you sell.” she ordered, and your pussy throbbed.
“Oh yeah, use more that tone.” you whispered. “I like it.” you let out a choked laughter when her hands suddenly snapped and gripped your neck.
She was extremely close to your face, her angry eyes boring into yours.
“Talk.” she spat, and you almost whimpered.
“Oh, I’ll sing if you know where to touch, Ellie.” you whispered, and she took a deep breath.
“Is that all you need? A little fuck for you to start talking?” she inquired, her free hand landing on your thigh, the warmth of her palm seeping into your jeans.
“Why don’t you find out, officer?” you smirked against her lips, and before you could blink, she was kissing you, harshly, angry, and you were loving it.
You moaned, pushing up your hips for her to have a better access to the button of your jeans when she started to fumble with it. Quickly enough the leader was sticking to your naked thighs, your jeans forgotten on the floor of the car.
“Ah, Ellie.” you moaned when she cupped your cunt over your panties, her fingers pressing against your clit and making your head fall backwards.
“Talk.” she repeated, and you bit your lip when she pulled your panties aside, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips when her fingers dipped into your folds, fingertips soaked on your slick. Her fingers were moving against your clit and you were seeing stars. When you didn’t answer she stopped and pulled away.
“No! Please don’t stop.” you whimpered, and she repeated her order.
“Talk.”
“Fuck…” your hips rose towards her hand when she started to tease you again, barely touching you. “Weed, shit, I’m on weed.” you muttered, and you had to bite down on a scream when he plunged one of her fingers inside of you, curling it against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!”
You moaned when she started to fuck you like that. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” she smiled, and you would have thought of a clever come back if you weren’t feeling so good. “Atta girl.” you moaned, and she scoffed, adding another finger. “Someone is needy, huh?” she muttered against your neck when you started to fuck yourself on her fingers.
“Ellie…” you whimpered, already on edge now that her thumb against your clit. You were tightening around her fingers, and your cunt was squelching with your building orgasm.
“Oh, look at you. Already so close. You gonna cum for me, hm? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded, and just as you were about to reach your peak, she pulled her fingers away, making you whimper.
“No! I was so close, please, Ellie, please.” you begged and she laughed.
“Aw, aren’t you cute…” she falsely pouted at you, her thumb on your bottom lip, getting closer.
“Tell me who you just sold it to.” she ordered, once more starting to play with your clit. You sighed and pulled at your cuffs, moaning.
“I can’t.” you muttered. And she stopped touching you.
“Fuck.” you whined, your hips pushing against her gone touch. “Okay! Okay!” your eyes were rimmed with tears, your voice all wobbly and fragile. “Eugene. I sell to Eugene.” you whimpered, moaning when she plunger her two fingers back inside your pussy, starting her relentless pace and quickly building back up your orgasm. “Fuck, yes, yes, don’t stop please. I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, that well known warmth spreading all over your lower stomach.
“That’s it. Cum for me.” she smirked, and watched you fell apart as you reached your peak, your thighs clamping on her hand and shaking, your mouth falling open in weak and spent moans as you came all over her fingers.
She fucked you through it until you were whimpering due to the overstimulation. Her fingers were sticky with your cum, which she tasted as she pushed them inside her mouth.
You were breathing heavily, still some spasms making your legs jerk when she hummed.
“Drug trafficking and intake, huh? You’re a really bad girl, maybe I should send you to jail.” she said and your eyes widened. Oh no, you couldn’t go there.
“No please, Ellie, I’ll be good. I promise.” you begged, your beautiful and teary doe eyes staring into her harsh emerald ones.
“You’ll be good?” she inquired, her eyebrows arching.
“Yes, yes, I promise.” you looked at her, and one of your hands slowly made its way up from her knee to her clothed cunt. “Let me show you.” you whispered, leaning in until only mere inches stood between the two of you. Your lips brushed hers, and when she didn’t pull away, you kissed her. She corresponded the kiss with the same intensity, your fingers quickly unbuckling the pants of her uniform and tugging them down her legs the best you would with your cuffs still on. She helped you, pulling off her panties as well. You moaned when you noticed how wet she was. Fuck. You couldn’t wait to eat her out.
She hummed against your mouth when your fingers spread the lips of her pussy apart, her slick connecting them in fragile strings. You quickly pulled away from her, and she sat facing you and leaning on the car’s door. You sat/laid on your tummy the best you could. You smirked at the way her thighs shook when your breath hit her cunt. Ellie bit down on her bottom lip when you started to slowly kiss her inner thighs, getting closer where she needed you most. Her hands laced on your hair, pulling it backwards to see much better your face when your tongue met her cunt. She moaned, and your nose nudged at her clit, you smirked against her when she threw her head backwards, her emerald and shiny eyes closing in ecstasy.
“Taste so good…” you praised, and she moaned when your tongue pushed into her, lapping at all she would give you.
“Fuck.” her grip tightened on your hair when you moved up to her clit, your plushy lips sucking on it. You middle finger pushed inside, curling up towards her g spot, making her back arch. “Don’t stop.” she whispered, and you started to eat her out like a starved woman, humming and moaning at the pulling on your hair and the sweet noises that would fall from her lips.
Your second finger went in, and that’s when she started to shake. You gripped at her right thigh the best you could while being cuffed, trying to get her to not move, wanting to make her feel good.
“Shit, y/n.” he moaned, and your pussy throbbed. ‘Cause she sounded as sweet as she tasted. Your fingers sped up, her moans rose in volume. You knew she was close by the way her walls were clamping around your fingers, the way she whispered your name over and over again, begging you to go faster, harder.
You moaned when she finally fell apart, warm and sticky cum painting your lips and filling your mouth as you lapped it all up, fucking her through it.
She hissed and pulled from your hair so you’d detach from her pussy when the overstimulation became too much for her, almost painful. Your hazed expression met her, still drunk on her taste, on her pussy…
She pulled from you to land a searing kiss on your lips, her tongue pushing into your mouth to taste herself, humming.
You two kissed for a couple of minutes before she’d pull away, her thumb pressing against your bottom lip, shining in spit.
“You’re free to go this time. But next time you won’t be that lucky.” she said, and you smiled at her.
“I’ll be waiting for it then.”
-
a/n; okay buy just imagine them meeting over and over again and ellie always letting reader go ‘till they finally develop a crush on each other 😭
ellie williams masterlist! <3
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lesinquietes · 1 month
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DJ!Reader, spinning hot dance beats at the club, surveying the sea of people bobbing to her jams, and catching the eye of Dealer!Dabi 😎 this shit gets real dark real fast
⚠️ mdni. abuse of power. abusive behaviour. dark au. drugging. drug use. forced prostitution. manipulation. misogyny. noncon. objectification. rimming (m. receiving), yandere.
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🔥 By the time Let Me Love U starts playing, you spot him — hood up, scarred and tatted skin on his hands, dealing acid tabs and coke to the partiers. You aren’t new to the club scene, nor are you stupid to the fact that this genre of music attracts illicit substances. You fuck with weed and maybe some mushrooms now and then, but nothing harder than that. DMT is out; acid, too. And coke is a hard no. If you ever took any of that in your youth, those days are long gone. Perhaps you’re a rare breed. Most other DJs take whatever they can get their hands on, especially the shit that keeps your mood up. So when Dabi offers you a little yellow pill for free, so you can try his new merch, you’re not shocked that he pegged you for the type. His pretty cerulean eyes widen when you decline his offer, and he makes a comment about your set being better when he’s high. Before he saunters off to compel another customer, he glances you up and down, making sure to smirk when he’s finished. He wants to degrade you. His fragile ego propels him to minimize you so that rejection sensitivity doesn’t choke him out. By the time Let Me Love U stops playing, you’ve realized he’s going to be a fucking problem.
🔥 He returns to your gig the following weekend, at a completely different club. As soon as he enters, you lock eyes. Teen Scene bumps in the background. There aren’t many people on the dance floor yet. You try to ignore his presence, but he’s intent on addressing you. He switches up his approach this time. He calls you doll. He says you’re real cute under the lights. Blue hues bring out your irises, and red beams make your lips pop. He thinks any man would be lucky to dance with you. You ask him what he’s dealing tonight m. He tells you it’s none of your goddamn business if you’re going to waste his time.
🔥 You don’t see him for a few weekends. For a while, you think you’ve finally lost him. Perhaps he got arrested in a bust. Then, he reappears. You’re scratching ten in a lounge atmosphere. He enters the space in his usual garb, and miraculously, clears the door staff. He must have bribed them with some of his product. He spends time with a few clientele, exchanging goods for coin, before approaching you again. He asks you what you e been up to these past few weeks, that he had the cops on his ass so he couldn’t come check on you. His words send a shiver through your torso. Check on you. Why would he feel the urge to do that? You barely know each other. You tell him that you wish he had stayed away — you mean it — and his facial expression hardens. There’s a minuscule crease in his forehead for a moment; then, the skin returns to normal. He calls you a cunt and wanders off to sell the rest of his stash.
🔥 He disappears for a long time after that. You make the mistake of letting your guard down. You’re at a lively club, dressed up because you’re hosting a private event for a friend. You know a few people, though admittedly, not many. You stick to DJing until you’ve had enough to drink. Then, you’ll be comfortable enough to mingle. You get distracted by a friend and leave your drink at the bar for a few seconds. When you get back, you carry it to your equipment and keep bringing the beats. Skin is setting a steamy, romantic mood. You watch the audience sway with their partners, or bop with their entourage. You don’t know when you start to feel groggy. Fortunately, someone is there to stabilize you. He smells of burnt wood and some kind of aftershave. No one notices him escorting you out of the venue. They only observe your disappearance when the track ends, and nothing else comes on. It’s okay, though. You text everyone who would be worried about you that you made it home safe… at least, someone does.
🔥 You wake up to a sticky sensation between your thighs. At first, you think you’ve wet yourself. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s semen. Your eyes widen and you whimper in utter horror. What the fuck happened last night? You don’t remember a thing. The last thing you recall is talking to your friend before grabbing your drink at the bar. Your heart sinks. Someone drugged your drink; that has to be what happened. They brought you home and fucked you, but they didn’t stay because they knew what they did was wrong. As Sleepwalker ghosts into your alert ears, from the radio he left on, only one possible culprit comes to mind. Dabi. And your fear is confirmed when you check your phone. There’s messages from a number you don’t have saved. During the process, he sent you images of you in vulnerable positions. One is a picture of his cock stretching your poor pussy wide open. Your daze face is in clear view. His threat is clear: don’t tell anyone. So, you don’t. You just use all your savings to buy plan B, break your lease to move all the way across town, stop DJing, and change your phone number. Oh, and you don’t leave the house for a while. Isolation is your best friend.
🔥 You’re a fool. You make the mistake of thinking, for a second time, that you’re safe. You’re not; you can never be when he’s around. Lurking in the shadows, obsessed with torturing you for god knows why, he’s relentless with his assault on you. You attempt to get back into DJing, after scoping out a few clubs and trying to see if Dabi frequents them. You didn’t see evidence that he does. You register under a different alias and change your appearance a bit, still rightfully cautious. The first weekend, nothing happens. The second weekend goes by without a hitch. The third weekend is when you run into problems. You’re vibing out to Cookie Chips when he finds you. It’s pure reflex when your hand rises and your drink splashes all over his face. You want to laugh at the surprise that washes over him. There’s nothing to giggle about when he threatens to pull the footage and press assault charges against you. He knows the owner of this place — a crusty motherfucker who goes by Giran — and he’s happy to use his powers to fuck you over… unless you leave with him right now. You understand that you have no choice when he pulls out his burner phone and flicks through all his contacts. Giran flashes across the screen. You have to go with him.
🔥 Dabi thinks of you as his prize. He’s been selling substances for years, ever since he dropped out of college to spite his father, but he’s never seen something he’s wanted more. He liked your tracks. He liked your style. He just wishes you could’ve made things easier for yourself. Why go through the hassle of denying him? You know he always gets what he wants, don’t you? He’s not like the average drug dealer, just like you’re not like the average DJ. He’s going to have so much fun with you. He doesn’t waste any time once he takes you home. He tears off your clothes, despite your clawing and other forms of protest. He slams you down on the floor and ravages you right there. His soft grunts and pants are all the music you hear while he gets off inside you. He growls that you’re his, and that your career as a DJ is over. You belong to him. He’ll do as he pleases with you, and if you know what’s good for you and your loved ones, you’ll let him. He promises not to go too hard on you — if you’re good. And you make a pledge to yourself, in that moment, to be good. You can’t take this treatment, this terror, this violation anymore. Your mind feels like it’s splitting in two. You close your eyes and let the madness take over. The hope that one day, you may get through this, is hanging just barely out of your reach; and yet, you continue to grasp for it.
🔥 Dabi has to put in more work to break you. He ties you up in one of the toilet stalls at Giran’s club and lets some of his customers fuck you when they’re horny as fuck off stimulants — with a condom, of course. And certainly not the grimy ones. You’re meant to be his girl at the end of the day, and he wants to make sure he can still enjoy going raw in that pussy. Tomura is a great example. Small cock. Eager to cum. Busts a load in less than two minutes. Big spender, that guy. $250 a pop because you’re not a cheap slut; he doesn’t do cheap sluts. Eventually, he pierces your labia, clit, and nipples to give himself extra pleasure as he’s railing you. He’s starting to think you like it, too, judging by how much you seem to be squeezing him these days. Maybe it’s because you want him to stop selling you to strangers. Well, you’re on the right track to convincing him you’re better than an expensive whore.
🔥 You finally prove your worth when you do everything he asks you to do. The sky’s the limit. You’ll do any one of his requests. He demanded that you suck his cock, clean his balls, and lick around his hole to get him in the mood. You dove into your tasks effortlessly, only stopping at his ask. You’re perfect enough for him to keep all to himself. He knew he could tame the fiery spirit of yours. There’s a brain dead expression on your face, now. He doesn’t hate it. In fact, it suits you. He dresses you like the bimbo you’ve become, see through shirts and short skirts that ride up when you move. What does he care if your goods are on display for others? He’s always by your side; nothing will happen to his precious little trophy with him around.
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nvoirs · 1 year
Text
yeh yeh instead of completing my reqs im back at it again with yet another leon brainrot 🤦🏽‍♀️
More specifically RE2 Leon.
TW: smutty.
--
Mmm rookie Leon hehe, so let's say the virus outbreak never occured and Leon did end up becoming an officer at RPD. Yeah that's great but someone had heart eyes for him.
Picking up your brother from the RPD station yet again for getting into a drunken fight leaving him to stay in custody overnight but you weren't pissed. Oh no whenever you got a call from the station and them having to explain your brother was there yet again you excitedly jumped up at the chance of seeing him.
The first time you saw Leon you just couldn't take your eyes of him. Fuck was he gorgeous, just the tastiest snack you'd ever seen, the hottest cop you'd layed eyes on. He was the one who saved your brother from breaking his goddamn nose in yet another fist fight and you decided to go for it. You hugged him tight feeling his broad figure tense but eventually hugged you back, pretending you were happy he'd saved your brother.
Fuck did he smell good, his cologne wafting into your nostrils, and you wanted to hop on his dick so bad it hurt. You'd become wet from just looking at him. It wasn't embarassing for you at all as you clenched your thighs excusing yourself to the police toilets.
Wearing sluttier outfits everytime you went back, spritzing your perfume and doing your makeup.
Eventually you did find yourself in the back of Leon's cop car parked of in a side alley cuz damn have you been penting him up. He lost it when you told him "those cuffs look like their used for other things then arresting people." And he'd groan as he shoved you deeper taking his cock inch by inch into your watering mouth. He was supposed to be on patrol, not getting sucked of by some hot chick he wanted to fuck badly.
He awed at the view of you taking him so well. Better then his ex could have ever done, he almost cummed at the sight of your nose nuzzled so deep in his light coloured pubes.
"So this is what you wanted hm?" He whispered in your ear. "All that to be laid? fuck im really gonna stretch you out tonight."
And he's a man of his words as his fat dick did indeed stretch you out, as your slick ran down your trembling legs.
"Fuck me harder officer kennedy."
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skepsiss · 7 months
Text
Modern Problems, Modern Solutions pt 1
Pt2
I have like 4 other parts to this written already but I'll post em when I have time to edit. Yearning with extremely awkward teen Steddie. Eddie as a proper 17 year old would be awkward as hell! I think at least. Additionally, there is quite a bit of swearing so you've been warned. Generally, I just wanted to explore EDDIE catching feelings first and being put out by that.
Modern day AU, or more or less modern give or take 5ish years circa 2015/19. I don't think this takes place in the Hawkins we know from the show.
Small American towns can be kinda backwards, but it varies a lot as to how open and accepting each town/state is. So, suspend disbelief and imagine it as a place that is tolerant of queerness. Also, read with the understanding that in a lot of places in this generalized time people think queerness is actually kinda "trendy" in some ways. It's not taboo but it's also extremely dependant on the person that is queer and "how queer they act". "be gay... but not too gay" etc.--
---
"Did you hear? Steve Harrington just came out as bi--"
Eddie looked up from his phone, feet propped up on the desk in front of him. The boy who had popped his head into their mostly empty homeroom had delivered the news so quickly that everyone there was quietly shocked.
"Son of a bitch," Eddie grumbled, putting his feet down and getting clumps of dirt on the linoleum floor. School hadn't even started and he was already having to deal with this bullshit.
"What?" Gareth asked, laughing a bit awkwardly. He sounded confused like he didn't understand where Eddie was directing his vitriol.
"Leave it to some preppy, jock, rich-boy to make 'being gay' cool--asshole," Eddie's words were drenched in sarcasm and mockery, going as far as to air-quote when he said being gay.
"I've been fucking gay since 8th grade and now some 16-year-old wannabe happens to be queer it's big news?" Eddie sat back with frustration, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching in his seat.
"I don't think you're supposed to say queer--" Jeff started to correct only to shut up quickly when Eddie whipped his head around to him and glared.
"I can say whatever the hell I want. I'm the one that's queer!" Eddie spat, hating that so much of this 'being gay is okay' culture circled around the heterosexual perspective of what was and was not okay.
Eddie grouched for the rest of the day, keeping his head down and feeling his nostrils flare every time a whisper of today's big news passed by him in the hallways. Who fucking cared? Steve Harrington was thee popular boy in school and was talked about as if he was their generation's teen heart-throb. It was to a point where Eddie knew who he was despite him being an underclassman. He was in grade 12 and he still had to hear about Steve Harrington as if he mattered. Sports star, good-looking, daddy's boy.
It was so goddamn annoying. Eddie had been out since he was thirteen and he had suffered through the humiliation of 'being queer' all the way through high school. He had the scars to prove it and it pissed him off that four years later it felt like people were singing Steve's praises for being brave enough to come out. Who fucking cared? Being gay was cool now or something--it gave you an edge and despite the fact that Eddie was bi himself, it truly felt like bisexuality was a cop-out to get girls to think you were hot with no intention to do the whole gay part of it. That was unfair to think, but in his biased opinion, some popular boy didn't deserve to be treated delicately while he had been in the trenches over it.
Eddie glared as the school day ended as he walked outside into the Autumn air. He could see Steve across the parking lot chatting to a gaggle of people around his car. He was smiling and laughing and everyone seemed so eager to let him know they accepted him. Or whatever the fuck. He couldn't actually hear what they were saying.
"Does the torture of high school know no fucking end?" Eddie grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, not paying attention to where he was going.
"Tell me about it."
Eddie looked up at the sound of a voice; the words that were spoken dripped with sarcasm. Robin was leaning against her bike by Eddie, bag slung over her shoulder as she watched the fanfare from a safe distance--same as Eddie. Robin was president of the LGBT-Alliance club, and Eddie knew her from band. Robin was two years younger than him, but she had come in hot and loud about being a lesbian straight from jump. Despite how meek she was in many regards, she was smart and dedicated to her beliefs. Eddie could respect that.
"Get a load, huh?" Eddie asked, scoffing as he glanced back over at Steve.
"Hmm," Robin offered quietly, staring for a moment before starting to put on her helmet, "he's been coming to meetings pretty regularly over the last couple of months, you know."
Eddie looked back at Robin, surprised to hear her... defending Steve Harrington? He thought it was unanimous that geeks and weirdos like them hated guys like that.
"You'd know if you ever showed up for meetings," Robin said a bit flippantly, and Eddie frowned at her.
He had tried the whole LGBT-Alliance thing and it just wasn't his space. It was boring and he hated that the group generally just talked about events and progress they should make. He didn't want any of that, he just wanted to hang out with a couple of people that were queer like him. He didn't want to be scheduling and painting signs or whatever the fuck. He had his own things to do after school--band, D&D, chucking dirt wads at a wall--anything was better than sitting in what was essentially a business meeting.
"Come on," Eddie grumbled, not wanting to acknowledge that if Steve had been attending the LGBT-Alliance meetings that this 'leaving the closet thing' had been a long time coming.
"He's actually a decent guy," Robin defended as she adjusted her helmet straps, "all things considered."
Eddie huffed a laugh, scoffing at Robin.
"Didn't think I'd be hearing this from you, Buckley--I thought lesbians were supposed to hate all men or something," Eddie retorted, not really meaning it but feeling confrontational.
"Don't be a drag," Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at the comment, "talk to Will Byers about it or whatever. He's in your D&D thing, right?"
"Hellfire," Eddie corrected, thinking about that for a moment. Will was in both their clubs and he was close friends with Dustin--who also seemed to adore Steve Harrington for some reason. It was stupid, he didn't understand why half the kids in his after-school club liked the guy. Eddie had never had any personal conflict with Steve, but he fit the shape of every guy Eddie had ever taken issue with.
"Whatever," Robin retorted, getting onto her bike, "you know we're having a mixer next weekend. You should come."
Eddie looked at her, frowning again. He didn't want to go to a mixer, whatever she meant by that. Robin seemed to pick up on the mild confusion he had around the comment, explaining further.
"Geez, there's like posters around the school, Eddie. Our alliance and like 4 other schools in our district are having like an LGBT dance, mixer, party or whatever. Hosting in Talho on Saturday. We've got a pretty big turnout already, tickets are five bucks."
"Five bucks?" Eddie huffed, acting as if that number was ridiculous for an event like this. He didn't want to admit that it sounded kind of... nice. With four other school districts... that meant there would be a lot of guys that were undeniably queer he'd get to meet for the first time if he went. That was something. It'd really be something if he walked away with a date.
"I'll think about it," Eddie said, waving Robin off and continuing his slouch across the parking lot to start his long walk home.
—--
"Call me if you need a ride," Wayne said as Eddie shuffled out of the cab of the truck. He stood at the door, having to look up at Wayne in order to see him from how much the suspension of Wayne's old gas-guzzler hoisted the truck off the ground.
"Yeah, yeah," Eddie huffed, feeling put out already for having decided to come. He was having second thoughts as he stood there, holding Wayne's door.
"Eddie," Wayne said a bit more firmly, looking for a straight answer.
"I'll call if I need a ride home-- or whatever," Eddie replied, sounding annoyed as he shut the door and turned towards the school gym.
It was obvious where the event was being hosted and he felt weird showing up alone. He had decided to come after much lamenting, resigning himself to just chatting to Will all night if he hated the damn thing. It felt weird, and he quietly hoped that at least some people his age would show up. He didn't want to be stuck as the oldest person there amongst a sea of 14 and 15-year-olds.
The event wasn't formal, but Eddie had tried to clean up a bit. He'd left his leather jacket and vest at home, opting for just an old denim jacket and a T-shirt that didn't have a band or logo on it. Other than that, he was still in scuffed-up shoes and ripped jeans, but he hoped that didn't put people off. Not that it mattered. Not that he ultimately cared. He didn't want to talk to anyone who had a problem with it to begin with, but it still made him feel self-conscious. Really, he hadn't dressed up because he didn't have anything to dress up into. Even the debate of if this was worth five bucks or if he should save it in order to get the luxury of sub-par pizza next week had been a difficult choice to make. He hated showing up to things like this and sticking out like a sore thumb--he hated being easily marked as poor.
Eddie paid his entry fee and stepped into the gym; the decorations were tacky and everything screamed 'event put on by teenagers.' There was something kind of charming about that though, even if it felt a bit pedestrian. It was sort of as he feared though... there were people here--a decent amount--but everyone looked so... young. The realisation made Eddie tense a bit as he moved over to the refreshments table and idled before getting a drink.
Great. Just great. He had spent five bucks for an awkward night leaning against a wall and drinking fruit punch.
"Eddie!"
Eddie turned to see Robin waving at him. She had a vest with a button on it signifying that she was a leader in the club. She probably had responsibilities to attend to during the night, but she did look mildly excited to see him there.
Feeling like he didn't have much of an option, Eddie migrated in her direction, feeling very self-conscious about the whole thing.
"Hey, you made it," Robin offered, a few people hovering around her. It was sort of obvious that she was busy, but Eddie appreciated her taking the time to say hi.
"Yeah, figured I'd check it out at least," Eddie said, talking into his cup as he looked around the room. He didn't really have time to lament though as a small commotion worked its way towards them.
"Sorry--sorry!"
Eddie looked to see Steve Harrington making his way over to them with what looked like 4 dozen balloons. It was kind of comical really, seeing him try to fight past the sea of bobbing, colourful globes.
"Steve!" Robin said sharply, her volume subdued but still stern.
"Sorry--there was a hold-up--" Steve replied, awkwardly trying to move the balloons to see past them and talk directly to Robin.
"Oh—oh-How-what? A holdup?" Robin mocked back, tisking as she took a bundle of the balloons from Steve and handed them to the girls beside her.
"Uh, yeah, Buckley. There was a holdup, you gagging on ten-dollar lipstick or something?" Steve retorted quickly "looks good by the way." He was gesturing to the make-up Robin had on and the bright red lipstick she had applied which was fairly different compared to her usual look.
Eddie snorted into his cup, choking slightly as he tried to hold back from laughing at the burn. Robin looked offended for half a beat before smacking one of the balloons directly into Steve's face and taking the rest of the handful.
"Ow--hey," Steve complained, getting aggressively jostled as Robin walked past him.
Despite what was being said, the whole exchange had been... friendly. It was weird really, it looked and sounded like Robin and Steve were actually friends. They were toying with each other and being bitchy in a way Eddie had only ever seen best buddies do, which was really goddamn weird to see coming from a superstar, jock hunk, and the local raging feminist, band geek.
"You're on my shit-list," Robin commented, pointing over her shoulder at Steve and then bustling off with the other girls and the balloons. Obviously, they had been meant for decorations and Robin was now rushed to finish setting everything up. The whole exchange had been so quick Eddie hadn't even been able to properly react before he was standing there... with Steve.
Steve turned towards him and Eddie averted his gaze, still holding his punch glass up to his lips.
"Hey," Steve greeted, sounding much too charming.
"Hey," Eddie mumbled back, turning slightly and facing the room instead of looking at Steve. He didn't walk away, that felt like a bridge too far, but he wasn't going to open himself up to a conversation.
"Eddie, right?" Steve asked, and Eddie glanced at him, watching Steve push his hair back into place. He hadn't realised, but Steve was panting slightly, obviously catching his breath from... probably running in here to deliver Robin's balloons.
"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, looking away again as he slouched. Great. He was stuck talking to Steve with no obvious escape plan. Perfect.
"Steve--"
"I know who you are," Eddie replied, not letting Steve finish his introduction. It had probably just been to be polite anyway, but it was obvious that Eddie knew who he was. They went to school together. They had mutual friends. It wasn't rocket science.
That shut Steve up for a moment and chewed at Eddie's guts. That had been a bit rude. Steve hadn't actually done anything wrong, yet, so really he should just save it for another time. Steve was stuck here too after all, with a bunch of kids just like Eddie.
"Pretty... young," Eddie said, watching the gym as people mingled. It really was just a bunch of 14 or 15-year-olds chatting with one another. They seemed to be having fun, and Eddie was glad for that since he hadn't had anything like this when he was that age.
"Hm, yeah," Steve replied, sounding kind of amused for some reason. "Always the damn babysitter, huh?"
Eddie glanced at him for that comment, not really understanding where it was coming from.
"Yeah..." Eddie offered, wondering if he had said it because Hellfire Club also skewed younger. He had seen Steve drop Dustin off before, scolding him like a mother would over something, but he had never come inside to meet anyone at Hellfire. Eddie had just noticed it was all.
An awkward silence drew out between them and Eddie could tell that Steve was starting to feel uncomfortable too.
"You seen Will Byers anywhere?" Eddie asked, looking for an out. He knew that Steve knew Will, he was one of those mutual friends.
"Oh, yeah," Steve offered, not making a motion to point anywhere, "but I'd leave him alone tonight if I were you."
Eddie quirked a brow at Steve, something of a challenge in his stance as he looked at him. Why on earth would he leave Will Byers alone tonight?
"I drove him--" Steve half explained, obviously realising that he needed to elaborate, "that's why uh I'm--it doesn't matter. There's a boy here that he likes."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up at Steve's explanation, looking back at the floor and the sea of dweeby, little gays circling each other awkwardly. Oh. Right. This was a lot of people's first chance to do anything with someone queer like them. He hadn't considered that Will would have someone here he intended to talk to.
Eddie laughed, both at his own stupidity and the charming realisation that he was glad this whole thing was happening, even if he wasn't having a good time.
"Good for him," Eddie snorted, cheersing the room and taking a swig of his punch.
"God," Eddie sighed, finding the humour in this whole thing now, "who the hell am I supposed to bother now?"
He was lamenting for no real reason, wondering quietly to himself if he should hold out and wait to see if anyone else his age showed up or if he should just cut his losses and start the long walk home. At least then, once he got back, Wayne would just assume he got a ride and had a good time. He didn't want to admit to Wayne that he ditched, not after he had agonised over whether or not it was worth it to spend the five dollars. Wayne had supported him going and assured him it wasn't a waste if he wanted to go. Eddie didn't want to prove him wrong.
Eddie glanced at Steve, wondering how he was going to excuse himself now that his out was occupied. He caught Steve looking at him and quickly looked forward again, surveying the room. That was weird. Eddie took note of that, slowly looking back at the party unfolding before them.
"So... Bi, huh?" Eddie offered, not sure why he was trying. He'd give it until he finished his glass of punch and then he'd walk home if no one interesting entered the party.
Steve seemed to laugh a bit awkwardly to that, doing this weird thing with his hands where he clasped them behind his back and then swung them forward to clasp at his front. It was the most uncomfortable Eddie had ever seen him--not that he had paid a ton of attention to Steve before now.
Oh. Eddie realised, feeling his chest clench a little, this was a lot of people's first chance to talk to another queer person. He was the oldest one here, closely followed by Steve... they were both fish out of water. Steve had the club, but there weren't a lot of guys their age that Eddie knew of who were queer. Steve had been mingling with kids this whole time. He was the elder here... weird.
"Yeah, I didn't really expect it to become a whole... thing," Steve replied, shaking Eddie from his thoughts. Right, he had pointedly questioned Steve's sexuality. Classy.
"Yeah, well, they'll get over it," Eddie retorted, feeling a bit bad now that he had been so dismissive of Steve's attempt to talk to him.
"I mean, it's been fine, I guess," Steve replied, sounding unsure of himself but not exactly bothered. Eddie could understand that, he didn't have the same experience per se, but all the guys at Hellfire knew he was queer and it was fine. He could remember being unsure though how gay he got to act around them all. It had been awkward and uncomfortable to find the rhythm of where you all sat, even if no one was blatantly rejecting you.
"Feels like you and everyone else are walking on eggshells about it, right?" Eddie asked, sighing as he leaned back until he hit the wall behind them, slouching.
"Something like that," Steve replied, his words coming out slowly as he watched Eddie and then took half a step back to join him against the wall.
"My advice? Just don't fall in love with your best friends," Eddie joked, only half serious. It verged on real advice, but it wasn't like it was something you could help.
Steve laughed anyway, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, as if. No thanks."
Something about that made Eddie smile a bit. Steve had been so dismissive of the idea as if the mere mention of having a mild interest in some jock was unheard of.
Eddie took a swig of his punch, swallowing hard as he started to relax a little bit.
"I'm bi too, you know," he said, sucking his upper lip to get the rest of the juice off.
"I can't remember if I used that word when I came out though--people just sort of figured with me, I don't think I really had to tell anyone."
"Yeah?" Steve asked, sounding interested but not sure how to progress.
"Uh, c'ya, what do you think?" Eddie mocked back, flipping his long hair over his shoulders and then flicking it back with his hands from side to side as if he were walking down some kind of runway. Long hair didn't mean you were gay, but it was a step towards making people think you were.
Steve laughed at that too, properly this time without that edge of awkwardness to it. That, in turn, made Eddie smile a bit. He liked it when people found him funny, it felt good to make people laugh. It felt better still to be joking about something gay and not having to correct or explain anything to the other person. Steve was queer too, even if he was new at this, there wasn't that same level of judgment. Huh... funny though that he suddenly just accepted that Steve was queer when he had been put off by the idea initially.
The night carried on like that and Eddie was surprised to find... that he didn't mind talking to Steve all that much. There were quite a few cultural touchstones that he didn't have when it came to 'nerd shit' but he didn't seem to be annoyed by Eddie explaining those things to him if it was necessary. Eddie had gotten a bit louder and more loose before too long, even if he wasn't exactly buddy-buddy with Steve. And Steve, surprisingly, had stuck with him the whole night. Really, the event hadn't matured at all and Eddie had little desire to go mingle with the kids--especially when the kid that he knew here was probably trying his best to flirt. What the hell was he supposed to do? Walk up to a group of youngsters and just ask what they were talking about? "Trust me, trust me. I play games with children all the time!" Yeah, no.
Eddie's watch beeped at him and he looked at it, turning the little digital screen off. It wasn't that late, just past 10 really, but the longer he waited the more miserable the walk home would be.
"Well, that's my queue," Eddie said, pushing off the wall and leaving his cup on a table by them. "I should go."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not regretting having come after all, but not really feeling like staying either. Steve had made the night bearable, but Eddie wasn't all that eager to keep it up.
"Why? Or you'll turn into a pumpkin?" Steve asked, teasing a little.
Eddie snorted at him, finding that line incredibly cheesy and in turn kind of funny because of that.
"Yeah, I've got to go traipse into the woods and take root or I'll start sprouting weeds like a chia-pet."
Steve chuckled at him, looking over to the doors. Eddie started walking towards the exit anyway, and Steve seemed surprised that he was actually going. He got off the wall and walked a few paces with Eddie before they both stopped, lingering a bit.
"I've just got to start walking home," Eddie explained, pinching his brows in, finding it kind of amusing that Steve seemed... concerned? He wasn't sure, it felt out of character for a cool guy to be following him.
"Walking home?" Steve asked, again, sounding surprised. "To Hawkins?"
"No to the moon, Bilbo was writing about me. Yeah back to Hawkins," he answered sarcastically, jamming his thumb towards the doors. Steve didn't seem bothered by the reply, even if he squinted for a moment with confusion with Eddie's mention of Bilbo.
"You live at Hawkins Trailer Park, right?" Steve asked.
The question instantly made Eddie tense, and he set his jaw a bit.
"Yeah, why?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. He didn't like this line of questioning. It always felt weird when people commented on the fact that he lived in a trailer park. It especially felt weird coming from rich-boy Steve Harrington.
"Jeez, chill. I'll give you a ride, I live near there too," Steve explained, taking his keys out of his pocket and jostling them, "Hawkins is too far to walk to from here."
Eddie blinked at him a moment, floored by the offer for some reason.
"You don't have to do that, man," Eddie replied, feeling extremely awkward all of a sudden. "You should stay."
"And do what?" Steve asked, sounding amused. He looked over his shoulder at the crowd of young teens chatting and mingling before looking back at Eddie with a raised brow.
"Fair enough," Eddie replied, banishing his guilt for now. Steve was right though, Hawkins was far to walk to from here and there really wasn't a lot keeping Steve at the mixer. Will was getting a ride home from his brother and Robin was too busy fussing over every little thing to mingle. Plus, the event really would be closing soon so Steve didn't have to stay.
Eddie still felt awkward as he walked up to Steve's beamer and prepared himself to feel awkward the whole drive back to Hawkins. It was a nice car and he couldn't help but constantly think about how he had never been in a car this nice before. It wasn't brand-spanking new, but it almost felt like it with how clean it was. The car was spotless really and it was obvious that Steve took extremely good care of his ride.
"This is... uh, a nice ride," Eddie said, running his hands over the dash as Steve drove, before sitting back again.
"Thanks," Steve replied, chuckling a little. Eddie really was admiring the car; he wasn't a gear-head but he could appreciate a nice ride. Thrill bubbled in Eddie's stomach all of a sudden as he glanced at Steve.
"How fast can this thing go?"
Steve looked at him in turn, the moment drawing out between them before Steve's lips cracked into a smile.
"Want to find out?"
Eddie's eyes widened and he smiled back, surprised and pleased that his ask was being met. God, it was so stupid. They were being such teenagers right now. Steve in his daddy's bought, fast car with the punk, bad-influence kid in his passenger's seat ready to tear it up on the freeway.
Steve pulled off the main road and Eddie's stomach swooped with excitement. He didn't know where they were going but he figured Steve knew somewhere they could drive without hitting anyone. He didn't want to be stupid about it, maybe a bit reckless, but hey--they were young. When else were they going to do this shit?
Eddie leaned forward, turning on the radio and fiddling with the dial.
"What're you doing?" Steve asked, sounding amused as they drove towards some back, country road. Perfect.
"Finding the right music!" Eddie replied, sounding equal parts excited and exasperated for being asked. He was flicking through the dial quickly, only pausing for a beat or two before switching again until he found what he was looking for.
"You done?" Steve asked as Eddie paused for a moment longer to confirm that he liked the song. He looked at Steve before cranking the volume dial and sticking his tongue out.
"Let's fucking go," Eddie whooped, sitting back and bracing himself as he felt Steve hit the gas and they started rocketing down the road.
Fear mingled with thrill as Eddie sat back, holding onto the door as they drove down this pitch-black road. He shouted with excitement, obviously stressed but having a blast. Steve seemed cool as could be, smiling with the thrill of it too but none of Eddie's anxieties.
"Fuckin' hell--" Eddie managed as they reached a bend and Steve slowed down to take it. He started to decelerate, their quick little drag race having finished.
"We should do that again!" Eddie continued, panting a bit as he felt his heart pounding in his chest.
"Chill out--" Steve snorted, falling back into the rules of the road as he stopped at an unmarked rail crossing. "Cops like to drive around here--we'd be risking it."
"Boooo," Eddie called, smiling in a joking way. He understood and he wouldn't push it even if he wanted that adrenaline rush again.
"Another time then," Eddie replied finally, pausing for a moment as he realised he had assumed he'd be in Steve's car again for some reason.
"Sure," Steve answered back easily, chuckling a little.
Eddie glanced at him, before reaching to turn the music volume back down. He didn't turn it off though, needing the quiet metal to help settle him.
Steve sure did laugh a lot, didn't he? Was Eddie really that amusing?
Eddie felt his pocket buzz and he squirmed before taking his phone out. It was Wayne. He was asking if Eddie needed a ride, surely expecting that Eddie had lost track of time or something like that. Eddie let the car fall into silence as he replied back to Wayne, feeling a bit weird all of a sudden. He kept typing and retyping what to say.
No, I got a ride from a friend. Were Steve and him friends?
I'm good. Too vague, it would worry Wayne too much.
Some guy gave me a lift. That sounded sketchy as hell. Eddie just settled on 'no, I got a ride' and left it at that, but it made him feel weird regardless.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked, drawing Eddie's attention back to him.
"Oh, yeah, no, yeah. Just my uncle wondering how I was getting home," Eddie explained, feeling weird about Steve asking him something like that. Robin had been right... he really wasn't such a bad guy after all.
"So," Eddie said, breaking the silence, running his hands over the seat, "this car get you mad puss?" He asked, his tone jovial and teasing as he stuck his tongue out between his fingers, being lewd on purpose. He didn't know why his default was raunchy humour, but it had tumbled out of him before he thought too hard about it.
"God, shut up--" Steve replied in good humour, sounding surprised and amused by the sudden comment.
"I know I've got a reputation, but jeez, man," Steve laughed, driving them back onto the main road towards Hawkins.
"So... that a yes?" Eddie teased, enjoying this little banter.
"Yeah," Steve confirmed, before glancing at Eddie out of the corner of his eye with a wry smile.
Eddie burst out laughing at that, finding it more than a little amusing that Steve was leaning into the tease and taking it on the chin.
"Fuck, dude," Eddie giggled, not sure why that was just so amusing. It felt so weird to have good-boy, Steve Harrington talking to him about getting laid. This was so fucked up. This was so fucking weird.
"So," Steve started as Eddie stared out the window, still grinning to himself a bit, "how long have you known you were..."
Eddie glanced at Steve before lounging against the door, smiling at him.
"Queer?"
Steve looked at Eddie from the corner of his eye, obviously a little unsure of himself.
"You can say it you know," Eddie offered, crossing his arms and looking nonplussed. "If you are one, you get to say it as long as you're not like slurring it at someone or something. Welcome to the restricted section."
"Alright..." Steve replied, sounding a little unsure still. Eddie smiled at that too, finding it a bit charming how baby gay Steve was over the whole thing. He felt a bit superior all of a sudden, and he liked that feeling with Steve. He was in a fast car with the most popular boy in school and he was talking to him about how to be queer. What a trip.
"Since forever," Eddie replied, "I've known since forever. It was more weird for me to figure out that not everyone felt the same way. Like, girls--guys, whatever. Hot people are hot, end of story."
Steve nodded to that and Eddie tucked into the corner of his seat, feeling cool and relaxed as he watched Steve drive.
"You?"
Steve seemed to waffle a bit at the question, putting too much thought into it no doubt.
"I don't know," he finally replied, looking dissatisfied with his own answer, "somewhat recently, I think? It's like... I acknowledged it maybe a few months ago but, I don't know. Before that, I sort of felt like I was being dramatic or something? Like, obviously, I like girls so that's fine, it felt kinda... cliche?"
Eddie cringed a bit at the phrase Steve used, nodding his head and glancing away. He had much the same judgment towards Steve until recently. That had been unfair. It didn't matter that Steve was popular or that there had been less risk involved in his 'coming out' compared to Eddie. He was pretty and sporty and even if there was something a little cliche about an all-American boy like him turning out to be queer it didn't mean it was wrong.
"Your folks know?" Eddie asked, talking softer, not wanting to pry if Steve didn't want to talk about it.
"Yeah," Steve answered easily, his tone unreadable. "They knew before I uh... came out socially?"
Eddie nodded, rubbing his head against the window and feeling the car vibrate under him.
"They... cool?" He asked, feeling a bit weird about the whole thing. He was older than Steve, but he didn't really feel like he was. Steve had so much... going on. He had his own car, activities, career paths--he seemed so put together. He was perfectly coiffed and dressed, his car spotless... Eddie was the exact opposite. He wanted to be a musician and he worked hard at it, but sometimes it felt like he was putting all his eggs in one basket.
"Uh.... yeah, mostly," Steve replied, sounding a bit hesitant.
"That great, huh?" Eddie asked, smiling lightly and trying to sound sympathetic.
"No, well, my mom seems pretty accepting of it. Unsure like... nervous? I don't know. My dad... I don't really know what he thinks yet. He's--it doesn't matter."
Eddie frowned slightly as Steve cut himself off. It was a personal topic and he didn't blame him for not wanting to share, but it felt kind of bad to hear Steve say it didn't matter.
"What about your uh... uncle?" Steve asked, sounding awkward as he shifted the conversation.
"Yeah, he's cool," Eddie replied, looking back out the window, "I don't think he really knows how to be supportive necessarily so he's just like... trucking on but he's never dropped the ball. Treats all my... gay shit as if it was just normal shit." Eddie replied, laughing a little bit. He knew he was lucky to have Wayne. Not every queer person had a supportive family and once upon a time, he hadn't had that either. Wayne was a saviour... in more ways than one.
"That's... cool," Steve answered and Eddie snorted a little at how awkward the delivery had been.
"What?" Steve replied, sounding a bit amused.
"That's... cool," Eddie mocked, making his voice sound girly and vapid.
"Shut up," Steve scoffed, drawing up the syllables a bit.
Eddie grinned, liking that Steve seemed to be easy to torment. He went for the bait every time, but he never seemed overly offended.
"Gee wiz, Eddie, your uncle seems like such a cool guy," Eddie continued, being annoying on purpose. He kept it up as Steve started to laugh in mock annoyance. "Let's you go to a pre-teen party and everything."
"Stop--" Steve booed, glancing at Eddie quickly before purposefully wobbling the steering wheel and making the car quickly veer back and forth.
Eddie jolted up right at the movement, grabbing the door.
"Shit--don't--" Eddie squawked, smiling despite how that had made his stomach drop.
"Asshole--" Eddie jeered, looking at Steve who was grinning back at him. Okay, so Steve was actually fun? Was this why Dustin and those kids liked him so much? Mr. Uptight-jock was actually a little bit of a wild child hidden behind good hair and a dazzling smile?
Eddie settled into his seat, feeling kind of good about the night as he looked back out the window and let the rest of the drive grow quiet. They weren't far from Hawkins now and a part of Eddie felt kind of strung out from the weird emotional whiplash of the night.
"You know," Eddie said as they pulled up towards the trailer park, "you're actually not a bad guy, Steve Harrington."
Steve looked at him, eyebrows pinched in with mild concern.
"Thanks?"
"It's a compliment," Eddie scoffed in a friendly way, unbuckling his seatbelt as Steve drove slowly down the gravel road.
"Oh, well, thank you then," Steve reiterated a bit more sarcastically.
"You're also kind of a bitch," Eddie retorted, smiling at him and getting an incredulous sound from Steve. The car pulled to a stop and Eddie climbed out. He shut the door but lingered a second until Steve rolled down the window. He leaned over the frame and looked in at Steve.
"I can see why those kids think you're kind of cool," Eddie continued, feeling kind of... charmed. "Guess that makes you cool in my books too."
"Cool? Or cool?" Steve asked, mocking Eddie's previous buffoonery.
Eddie laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back.
"You're a bit of a dork too, you know that?"
He liked dorky guys.
"A dork? This? Coming from you?" Steve asked, inching his car forward a bit to keep Eddie in view of the window.
"Oh, cram-it," Eddie retorted, flipping Steve off through the window. He patted the doorframe lightly, careful not to hit it with any of his rings.
"Thanks for the ride though," Eddie swallowed, not really looking at Steve but still trying to be friendly.
"Yeah, man. Don't worry about it."
Eddie nodded, feeling weird about just walking away. He kind of wanted to stay out, chat more, and just listen to the radio with Steve which was... a weird thought. They didn't really have anything in common, and somehow Eddie knew that they weren't going to talk again at school. Steve was popular, he wasn't. Eddie was graduating this year, and Steve was 16. They ran in completely different circles.
"Kay, well, later then," Eddie offered, half waving his hand in front of the window before sticking his hands in his pockets and walking towards his trailer. Steve didn't say anything back, but he waited for Eddie to get his door open before pulling away like a proper gentleman.
The whole night felt... so odd to Eddie. He didn't know if he could say he had a good time, or even what had happened during the night, but it had been... nice. It had nothing to do with the mixer or anything Eddie had prepared himself for that night but instead, his good mood rested solely on his interaction with Steve. It was so weird and it left him feeling like he was in limbo. Like this night had been a weird pocket event and he'd never have a repeat of anything like it again. Nothing big had happened, nothing important, and there was nothing to remember about it really... but it felt like he wanted to hold onto it somehow.
Eddie huffed and stretched his lips, before finally taking the last few steps into the trailer. There was no point dwelling on something he couldn't touch and thinking too hard about it would probably ruin everything anyways. This could just be a one off. He could just look back on this and think about how nice it had been to bond... with Steve Harrington.
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ikkosu · 13 days
Note
So you know when you wear shorts in summer in a car with a leather seat that your legs stick to it sometimes? I've actually almost fallen out of car bc of that. And because of this experience, may I request this happening to the reader with any autobot of your choice?
THROUGH the glaze of the windshield, traffic churns at a slow, steady pace. Pistons chuff, creak and groan; beaten down by the glare of the sun, little by little the mottled blurs of car start to file out.
Everytime, you think you're going to wrangle out of this hellhole — a wide gap-like opening, blaring out like the heavens for freedom — you find yourself stuck in another junction, relapsing in the same fucking problem.
Stuck in the same place. Between mesh metal of blistering, practically burning from the sun, hot cars.It also doesn't help how raw to the bone hot the weather is.
Heat is seething through the Aircon. You're practically drenched, and the discomfort of having an already wet shirt matted to your wet spine is exacerbated by the goddamn ire before your eyes.
There's a truck, in front of you.
A very old truck.
And, fast?
Not it's greatest virtue.
A lump of irritation bites its way through your teeth. The backside of the truck sputters with black fumes. You're about to relinquish the title of an honorable citizen, when the radio warbles with a staticky breedle.
"You're getting sweat all over the seats, pipsqueak." Comes his sardonic chuff. The insignia lits up with every sass induced spool of his words.
At that you lift up your thighs, a kind of schlap followed after as a result of very sweaty skin latching on leather.
"Suck it cop-bot," You pat the steering wheel. "That's what you get for having shitty air conditioning."
A growl revved up from the engine. The wheel whirls away from your touch three-sixty at max speed.
"You can't expect me to accept the blame, can I? When all there is out there under that— that blisteringly — whatever you call that slag of a weather, is hot fraggin' air."
You blink at the sudden venom in his tone. Prowl's usually, eh usually, the type to keep it down when he's about to lose it : a scowl and a sharp tongue is good enough for lacerating the source of his ire.
For him to snap? Yikes. That takes a lot. A hefty lot. Even with Smokescreen, concierge of shenanigans — worst he's got is a swift chuck to the brig and cleaning duty for a year. And, that's just with a scowl and a low, steady tone.
Guess Cybertronians aren't immune to hot days, either huh. Sun's that bad.
"Is it getting to you too, Prowler?"
"What do you think?" He bites back. "Look at the thermometer. It's exceeding above the usual range of what a normal temperature should be. It's draining up the power in my cooling fans which drains up my fuel, which drains up energon. Which, at this moment, is scarce."
"Hard times, Prowler." You shake your head solemnly. "Hard times."
"You don't get a say in this." He grits out.
The car leers forward with a sudden jerk and your forehead kisses the steering wheel. Not the flat surface where the insignia lies but the edge. You know, the round handle? Bubbles of pain shoot out from the spot and you groan.
"What?" You whined. "It's already hot enough with my ass sticking to your seat — you can't leave me with any more bruises worse than this, alright?"
"Then keep that mouth shut. Or I'm shutting it off for you."
" We're stuck in traffic, though." You grope the steering wheel, grinning at the irritated growl of an engine when he tries to steer it away.
"Will you cut it."
"Hunkering down on a quick brawl in the street doesn't really contribute to the whole," You waggle your hands. " bots in disguise, kind of thing. Not really your style. Doesn't fit you, prowler. Doesn't seem to fit the muse of a..." You trail off, playful and purposeful with your tone. "...law enforcer."
He's quiet for a moment.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh."
He laughs : a quick sarcastic 'hah' and a chuff.
"Get out."
Yep. There, it is.
"Duly noted."
Your fingers wrangle the door knob. And, as soon as you struggle to pry it open you realize Prowl is keeping it locked.
"Where'd the angry coppa go?" You huffed.
"Oh, you'll see."
"Open the—huh?"
Your fingers grasps the open air, twitching around nothingness. The momentum propels you to slide off your sweat-lathered seat, lurching forward and face first into the hot, concrete road.
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mandoalorian · 1 year
Text
let's get in the back of your cop car, officer
pairing: rookie cop!Leon S. Kennedy x f!Reader
summary: semi-au, where Leon is a rookie cop for the RPD and the Raccoon City incident did not occur.
warnings: SMUT (18+ no minors), car sex, protected p in v, choking, taunting and teasing, mention of handcuffs/being tied up, power play
masterlist
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Night shift with Leon as part of his training as an officer did not go down in the way he thought it would. As his superior, Leon didn’t know what to expect of you. From his first meeting with you, it was clear that you were kind enough and strong, and with all the dedication and loyalty he could muster, Leon truly had the utmost respect for you. But more than anything else, when he wasn’t fawning over you, he was intimidated by you. In his eyes, you were goddamn perfect, and Leon found himself wondering what made you become a cop over say, a model or star actress. With a face like yours, you could easily find stardom, money and fame. He imagined asking you the question over a candlelit dinner and a glass of red wine, and he would often daydream about all of the plausible ways he could ask you out on a date.
But of course, Leon wasn’t delusional and he knew better than to believe you’d even give him a second glance or a moment of your precious time. After all, you were his boss. You were older and mature and he was just an earnest twenty-one-year-old rookie cop straight out of college. That was until the night of September 28th, 1998. 
Your loins were burning hot and you ached for Leon. Your primal need for him only grew as he pushed you down into the scratchy fabric material of the three backseats in his cop car. Your clothes had been discarded a good half an hour ago and were recklessly thrown over the backseats that you were now laying on, and into the trunk of Leon’s cop car. 
Somewhere along the drive, things had gotten heated. All grains of professionalism that were left in your employer/employee relationship with Leon had been thrown away alongside your clothing. 
“Stop squirming,” he huffed impatiently, licking a hot, wet stripe down your neck and biting down on the skin at your collarbone. Leon had wanted to live this moment from the very moment he met you. “Or I’ll cuff you up,” he brought his hand down to the silver handcuffs that were attached to his belt. “But you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted, shaking his head. He pushed himself up so he was hovering above you and wedged his knee in between your legs. Leon ran his fingers through his tousled, dark blonde hair and looked at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. It was dark outside, the alley that he’d parked in was barely illuminated by the yellow streetlights.
You’d never seen this side of Leon. He was usually mellow,  dorky, and cute. But this Leon… you’d been teasing him all day, get him so pent up he couldn’t even do his job properly. And this is what it had come to. You grabbed onto his bicep and dug your fingers into the material of his dark blue RPD uniform. “Leon, please,” you begged, rolling your hips along his thigh. “I need you.”
Leon groaned and squeezed his eyes shut at your words, silently thankful that you were just as desperate for him, as he was for you. He’d imagined this moment during his morning glories and evening showers. He didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. Leon’s cheeks blushed a dusty pink colour and he pressed a soft kiss atop your nose, and then nudged down to your mouth, licking another stripe along your lower lip, swollen from all the making out you had both been partaking in, begging for entry once more. You granted it to him, of course, and relished the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. Without breaking the heated kiss, Leon unbuckled his belt and along with his underwear, let his pants fall down to his knees. 
“Not much space in this damn car,” Leon muttered, clearly agitated, but you just chuckled and pulled him in closer to you. 
“Fuck me, Leon.” you weren’t asking— you were telling. You spread your legs and if that wasn’t enough of an invitation, Leon lowered himself down and positioned his manhood to your entrance, sliding it between your folds, teasing you. 
He was thick and girth and you weren’t sure what you expected of the city cop, but Goddamn, he filled you up just the way you’d imagined. Stretching you open, you let out a cry and gritted your teeth together as he held onto you for his own balance. He had stamina, and as he rocked his hips back and forth, you felt your walls tighten around him. Wet, lewd sounds of your arousal filled the car and if you weren’t getting pounded, you might have felt a tad embarrassed. Leon brought his hand down to your neck, offering it a gentle squeeze. 
“Oh— oh Leon, you trying to choke me?” You giggled as you watched Leon’s cheeks turn a darker shade of rose. 
Leon increased his speed as he railed into you, and added more pressure around your neck. Somehow— you felt as though he’d had experience doing this, despite his young age. You’d been with other cops in your department before, but never a rookie like Leon. You typically liked them older than you and more experienced, but perhaps Leon was proving to be an anomaly. 
“Baby, oh— sweet girl, I’m close,” he warned in between huffs and grunts. “Jesus, you’re so perfect.”
There he was… the cute, affirming Leon you knew from work. Even as he pounded into you, his cock splitting you open, he knew how to give you butterflies and make your heart race with the sweetest, most wholesome comments.
“Cum inside of me, Leon,” you begged, your jaw agape. “I’m safe.”
And with that simple utterance, Leon spurted his ropes of seed inside of you, painting your walls white. The second you felt his warmth fill you, you found it was enough to let yourself come undone around him. His load was huge and you wondered when was the last time he’d fucked like that.
“That was good, rookie,” you praised him breathlessly as Leon rolled off the top of you and shuffled into the seat by the backdoor. “Keep that up and you’ll be a Government Agent in no time.”
Leon chuckled and pressed a final dainty kiss to your forehead. “We should probably head back to the station, huh?”
You nodded your head and clambered into the front driver’s seat. “And Leon, just so we’re clear… I hope we get the chance to do something like this again sometime, although maybe not when you’re on duty?”
“Right,” Leon nodded, switching back to work mode. “Sorry miss,”
You laughed softly as you turned on the engine and reversed back onto the road. “Sorry? Leon, you just gave me the best railing of my entire life. I had no idea you had that side to you.”
The rookie cop felt his cheeks heat up at your compliment and on your way back to the RPD, you kept your eye on him in the rearview mirror as he slipped back into his uniform. He was so handsome, his soft features something looking like something straight out of a fairytale. He had yet to be hardened by the cruel, crime-ridden world of Racoon City.
“I had fun tonight,” Leon admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You had just pulled into the parking lot of the RPD and could overhear the City Hall clock tower strike twelve. When the bells finished ringing, Leon cleared his throat, a wave of newfound confidence gushing through his veins. “And if it would be okay to ask, I’d like to take you out sometime… for dinner?”
You couldn’t hide the grin anymore. “I’d like that a lot, officer Kennedy.”
“Okay.” Leon beamed. “Well, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, rookie,” you replied. “Good night.”
“Get home safe,” Leon smiled before slipping out of the cop car. You gave him a little wave goodbye and watched him find his own car in the parking lot. If anyone found out about tonight, you would be in a lot of trouble. Hell, you’d probably even lose your job.
But maybe he was worth it.
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gn4wz-0n-b0n3z · 1 month
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ithink this is what tumblr would be like in the dogman universe: a simulator
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😀 randomcivillian-956 follow
can those villain asshats get control of those goddamn monsters i have lost literally every single fucking thing thanks to those brainless pieces of shits last week a fucking T-REX SKELETON destroyed my fucking HOUSE and everything around it
🪻 inmylane-1999
how are you able to say those words
😀 randomcivillian-956 follow
what words?
🪻 inmylane-1999 the a word, f word, and s word
😀 randomcivillian-956 follow
oh i see you're one of the Collardale inhabitants. screw the fuck off your town is a CURSE
🪻 inmylane-1999
what did i do? :(
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🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow
hnstly i dont get y Daryl hangs arnd that pig guy hes rlly mean & bad
🐊 piethrowingboss
didnt u help us go after him when he ditched us after the mini jail broke 2 bits?
🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow
yeh butt hes still rlly mean & i was a lil moar concerned 4 Daryl
🐊 piethrowingboss
ohhhh kk
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🐕 zupabuddiezthezenutz
zomg did u guyz watch that new mini-documentary w/ Petey The Cat n Zarah Hatoff??? that waz tragickk..
#holy shart i have so much moar respect 4 him now..
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🔄 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep reblogged
🌆 icareforyou follow
still dont know why people are supporting Petey Duckhat just because of that documentary, didn't he terrorize the city for more than a month or two?? ntm he quite literally MUTILATED Officer Knight and Greg The Dog's bodies bad enough with that bomb to where they had to become that sick and horrible abomination i have to stomach through seeing on the news every week.
😀 randomcivillian-956 follow
i know right?? like hes genuinely a horrible cat but people are supporting him for no other reason other than "oh hes a victim!!" like shut the fuck up and grow up.
comicpanel-deactivated-98325749857
op i wouldn't say DogMan is sick and horrible, he seems to be in great condition despite such an accident and hard surgery to conduct, and looks perfectly happy. while i don't support Petey Duckhat either, you took it a step further and suggested that DogMan is currently in conditions horrible enough to render him an "abomination".
🌆 icareforyou follow
dont you post tips for fucking evil monsters on your blog.
#LMAOOO dude was SLAUGHTERED so hard they deactivated #redogs
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🌭 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep
walking on the street with a small can of living spray in my pocket and the nearest cop explodes into blood guts and viscera
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🦷 bigmonsterinyourheart
okay i get that Dr. Scum is a real and kinda sucky person and all that but his labcoat kinda fucks!!
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✨ lookatthestars
Hot take or whatever but I don't think we should trust a guy who gets really distracted by squirrels and balls and a kitten who could easily get hurt to protect our city. Lightning Dude IS one of the better options as they ARE a highly durable and strong robot, but The Bark Knight and Cat Kid maybe aren't our best bets, they could get hurt easily and aren't exactly professionals.
Don't get me started on the Friendly Friends, I don't think we can trust two guys who JUST left the same exact trio that was responsible for that marshmallow factory's destruction (which left many injured, some DEAD), what if they're pretending? Also the bugs could easily get killed, they're small and fragile, the most work they can do without a high risk of getting smashed is spying on villains.
Commander Cupcake's a different story, as I'm pretty sure that guy only helped out, like, 3 times.
#anti-supa buddies #anti-friendly friends #twinkle twinkle little star
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🪁 lalalalala89
dude imagine if we were in a book rn and ppl were posting on tumblr abt us
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🎠 supastarr
remember, calico trans toms are perfectly valid! even cis toms can be calicos, and fur pattern doesn't determine exact gender, especially with fur dying technology nowadays! :)
506 notes
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the-fo0l · 8 months
Text
Thomas Hewitt x gn!reader fluff
summary: reader's kind words tug at tommy's heartstrings, sparking the possibility of your escape... or maybe not. not meant to be canon with the movie (tcm:tb)
not proof-read, pls forgive
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your eyes lazily drift open before a single clear thought manifests in your mind. the air is hot and humid, the stench pervading the air making you slightly nauseous. your vision's still foggy and it seems no amount of blinking will make the sight of the dark basement your in any more clear.
a moment passes before panic starts to slowly creep in. you're slumped over, sitting on the floor, in a low cage that could fit no more than two sitting people. the large gaps between the bars tease you by being just a little too small.
beyond your confines you see that the room is littered with different workspaces. really the only things that are easily disernable are the numerous meat hooks that hang from the ceiling, illuminated by the small windows. and, of course, your friend tied up....no, bolted to the table. your heart aches listening to his rapid breaths and desperate struggling sounds. exactly what are you about to witness here?
suddenly, fast heavy footsteps begin hastily approaching the room your in. the door slams open and a familiar large figure enters. it's that same guy who hauled you and your friends into this horror house. that power-crazed 'cop' had called him tommy, you recall rather clearly how he'd yelled out "tommy get your ass over here!" shortly before you'd lost conciousness.
his tall and bulky frame steps into closer into view, making the leather mask that covers the lower half of his face visible. the mask looks sturdy, but quite messily thrown together. all you can see are his eyes, judging by which, his focus is on the poor man on the table, who's now begun hyperventilating. thomas paces in front of the table, looking over the incapacitated man for a moment, before grabbing a knife and a pair of scissors from a close-by shelf.
he uses the scissors to cut open your friend's shirt with rather delicate movements, while the man thrashes around wildly like a caged animal. a sense of urgency overcomes you when tommy grabs the knife and presses it to your friend's skin. without thinking before you do, you call out "tommy!" as gently as you can. thomas' body freezes up, yet his head snaps toward you, seems he's suprised you're awake.
you whisper out a few more quiet "hey"s as tommy turns his body more towards you. for a moment, the room falls silent, even your loud-mouthed friend quiets down.
"heyy tommy...", goddamn, he's huge, and it's not just cause of your low point of view either.
"come on, tommy, y-you know you don't wanna to hurt us..", you're not one to scare easy, but it's hard to keep your composure when under his the full attention like this.
"you don't gotta do what that old man says, he can't hurt you," you muster up anything you feel might win his favor, and judging by the softened look in his eyes, it seems to be working.
"cmon, come closer," you beckon him closer, hoping to get him away from the make-shift torture table.
thomas steps closer to your enclosure, and causiously kneels down in front of you, as if you were the dangerous one out of the the two of you. in turn, you shift your body as much closer to his as the cramped space will allow.
unsure of what to do, now that you're face-to-face with your captor.you tenatively reach a hand through the bars. tommy recoils slightly, for a moment you fear you may've broken him from his entranced state. you hand remains in the air and your next question comes naturally, "may i... touch, your mask?"
tommy simply keeps still and looks at you all wide-eyed, and submissive. you take the hint and gently begin to trace over the jagged edges of the sown leather. you feel him exhale against your hand. he seemed positively exhilarated from the gentle touch, you'd think this was his first time expiriencing real kindness. little did you know you'd be right.
"you can be better than hi—"
"get the hell away from them you son of a bitch!," seems like the sight of a masked murderer leaning closer to you was too much for your companion to handle. fucking idiot.
thomas suddely becomes enranged at the stupid rude interuption, quickly turning on his heels and grabbing a chainsaw from the top of a near-by box. he hastily starts up the blood-stained weapon, and in a split second the room is noisier than ever. groans from tommy, your pleas for thomas to calm down that quickly become scared gasps and rapid breaths, the angry grinding of chainsaw against bone, and of course, your companion's screams of agony.
with blood splattered all over him, tommy pulles the chainsaw from the ground-up chest with a disgusting wet squletch sound. the whirling of the gore-covered weapon died down. a few tears cannot be kept from falling from your eyes, a few choked sobs manage to escape your throat.
with the distraction dealt with, thomas heaves the chainsaw back to its original place. tommy drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and continues bashfully and expectantly looking at you, expecting you to continue your kind words as if he hadn't just slaughtered a man in front of you.
you do your best to calm your shaking and resist the urge to simply close your eyes and disociate. you feel like you may just throwing up from nerves and the fowl smell already pervading the room.
with both flight and fight unavailable to you, only negotiation remains. you would plead for your life but your gut tells you that it won't help.
you lift your gaze to find thomas' hulking figure still kneeling before you, except now he's closer than he was before. his breathing seems inconsistent as he looks at you with the neediest, most eager look in his eyes.
cautiously, you lift your hand through the bars once more. as soon as your wrist breaches the bars tommy quickly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand to his face. he presses it against his cheek himself, keeping your palm firmly in place with both his hands, one of his hands over yours as he nuzzles into your touch. he closes his piercimg eyes for a moment to savor the feeling, giving you the chance to notice the blood that's now smeared against your fingers. his blood.
god... what have you gotten yourself into?
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got inspired after i rewatched the movie...god lord he is hot
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kittyamore0 · 1 year
Text
Slashers find out their S/O has killed:
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[Part 3]
Cw: blood, murder, sexual themes, GN! Reader, blood kink, sex mentions
CHARACTERS: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bubba Sawyer, Kurt Kunkle, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lector, Normal Bates
BO SINCLAIR
He was trying to lure in victims into his house for Vincent to kill
"Let me help you with that,"
BAM!
Blood splatters all over him
"THE FUCK-"
He's absolutely shocked
The hell did you come from?
"Sorry, Baby Bo."
He's finally staring at you, and you're holding a goddamn bat
A bloody bat.
Theres blood on him.
And it belongs to the person he was trying to lure in...
click. He could quite literally hear that noise as it finally clicked in his mind about what you had done
You just killed the person he was trying to lure in...
"H-HOLY SHIT!-"
"Y-YOU JUST?!-"
"WHERE DID YOU?!-"
"HUH?!"
He's just staring at you while you wipe the blood off his messy, bloody shirt
He snaps out of his daze when you land quick peck on his chapped lips
And where you this hot...?!
Needless to say, hes was very shocked and confused.
He still is, but hes come to an acceptance that you also kill people
LESTER SINCLAIR
"Les, i got something!"
"coming!"
He hopped in the truck and ruffled your hair
"Good job! What animal did you get?"
"You'll see~"
What in the hell did you mean by that.
He shrugged it off and let you drive
He noticed that the closer you guys got to your catch, the animals did in fact NOT look like animals
It looks like two people inspecting 4 dead bodies
wait,
WHAT THE FUCK-
Blood spilled all over the car windows
You just sat there laughing
When he got into the truck, he was expecting you got a roadkill
NOT FUCKING 6 HUMAN DEAD BODIES
He's shocked, he will not get over this
"O-oh, well, i have a killer S/O. That's nice..."
He's trying to rethink his life while you're just sitting there hugging him with dead bodies in front of the car
BUBBA SAWYER
He had just come back from chasing around a group full of boys and girls
He was very upset
He only managed to get 3 out of 6!
the other 3 went missing
He just assumed they had escaped
Though, there was no trail that they had escaped
Which confused him greatly
He noticed you cutting up something
Then he saw three heads and one alive chicken
Just what he needed
Some nice dinner
Wait.
Where'd you get those heads?
WAIT WERE THOSE THE OTHER THREE?!-
"Hey, Bub. These rascals were running around the house, and i wasn't going to let them make a mess here."
He's silent for a minute
"Bub? is something wrong?-"
You yelped when he picked you up and hugged your body against his
Happy babbling from him
KURT KUNKLE
Lets all be honest,
You both would use both of you're craziness to get fame
You would wear a mask while filming yourself stabbing someone
He would pretend that its special effects
Only on Halloween since its more believable
Has you hiding in the trunk of the car so you can pop out and slit the persons throat
Will actually laugh at this
He'll do those couple challenges with you after you'd just killed someone
Just watches you as you kill one of his passengers
Will automatically say 'no' if someone asked for help
He'll start driving crazy fast just to scare the passengers
Not too fast where the cops had to stop him though
He first met you when you were robbing a convenience store
You had a mask on and a gun held in your hand
He was confused on how the police hadnt come yet
That was until he saw that the cameras were shot down
You had killed almost everyone and was money and some snacks
You noticed his figure standing there, so you pointed your gun at him
"Woah, woah! Lets calm down now, alright?"
You held your gun down
You thought he was cute
He was your type
So, you just hopped over the counter and grabbed him
"W-wait, where we going?!-"
You ran out of the back door and into an alleyway
You took off your mask and put your index finger to your lips
He thought you was mad cute
"U-uh, so, whats your n-name? im Kurt-"
"Shut up, and move faster."
PATRICK BATEMAN
He honestly would not care
Oh, you kill?
Well, he kills too!
He would most likely team up with you, his S/O, to get rid of people who annoyed him
He thinks you're attractive when you kill
Sex after you or him had killed
He would literally go DOWN on you
slight blood kink
But doesn't like it when you have someone else's blood on you while you two are getting intimate
Doesn't like someone else's blood on him either
So, he'll shower or have you shower first
And after that, he'll pull out that knife and make little nips and cuts on your body
One way of him marking you
He'll show you off even more
He honestly knows if someone tried flirting with you, they'd be gone
And not because of him
HANNIBAL LECTOR
He came home and couldnt find you
He had checked everywhere in the house, except for one place
The garage
He opened the garage door to see you holding 2 huge bagged items
And 4 un-bagged...
Human bodies...
And 3 chickens
"Han! We ran out of food, so i got what you liked and something for me as well. Do remind me, which organ do you like best?"
He was shocked to say
But he quickly got over it
"Any is fine, dear."
He had a sincere smile plastered on his face
This made him feel more secure about you
His S/O went through the trouble to make him dinner that fits his interesting taste?
How...
Lovely.
He would have to find out a way to repay you
NORMAN BATES
He liked you. A lot.
But his mother didnt
At first.
You stepped into the bates motel with someone else with you
Norma, Normans mother, was already judging you
Norma took over when you went into your room with that other person
He made it towards your room, in front of your door
Then he heard screams
Norma was absolutely shocked
He used the master key to open the door and saw you murdering the other person you had come into the motel with
Norma took a liking to you
Someone who was like her son...
She didn't like the thought of her son, Norman, around people like you
But you were an exception
Norman had also liked you
The next day, Norman had took it upon himself to talk to you
Norma had encouraged him too
"H-hi, Im-Im Norman."
"Hello, Norman."
He fainted.
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circethesinner · 1 year
Note
Hello. Can I request an ask ? Xavier x vampire female reader. She can read minds and she is the new student at Nevermore Academy.
Thank you so much !❤️🥺
suave
pairing: xavier thorpe x reader oneshot (second person pov - she/her pronouns used for reader - occasional use of Y/N)
warning(s) : mild language, small injury and bl**d mentioned
word count: 2.5k
⭑•⊱✩masterlist✩⊰•⭑
A/N - eee first ever request thank you!!! I hope its okay! full disclosure before we begin - one of my special interests is what we do in the shadows so I've decided that vampires are just chaos gremlins
I support womens rights, but more importantly, womens wrongs 😌💅
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Being a newborn vampire sucked.
Everything was too bright, smells were too strong, and your beloved garlic bread sent you to the hospital on four occasions, but goddamn it, you were going to build up a tolerance if it was the last thing you did. Which, at your rate, it probably would be.
How were you supposed to live, laugh, love in those conditions? Instead, you had to settle for manipulate, mansplain, m̶a̶n̶s̶l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶t̶e̶r̶  mind reading.
Hearing other people’s thoughts when you spoke to them was nothing short of exhausting. It wasn’t that it was difficult or strenuous on your body; it was just boring. People were so boring.
Day in, day out, you heard people’s shopping lists, people wondering if the person they liked would ask them out, people trying to multiply things in their heads; the list was endless and dull and endlessly dull. When the most exciting part of your day was hearing someone have an internal meltdown because they were sure someone had just seen them pick their nose and now thought poorly of them, you knew it was time for a change of pace.
That’s when you ended up at Nevermore.
Well, that and your normie parents were panicking because they didn’t know what to do for their newly turned vampire daughter. Nevermore had teachers who could teach you how to vampire properly and stop antagonising the neighbourhood by flying through people’s houses as a bat and stealing jewellery because no cop would believe them when they said a small, winged rodent-like creature flew through the window and stole their grandma’s necklace.
Your new roommate, Yoko, had taken pity on you and taken you under her wing. She had shown you the ropes of the school, ropes which you had promptly cut just to see what would fall.
It wasn’t that you were lying about being able to read minds; you just conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell anyone about it. So, a few weeks into your time at Nevermore, a Twitter account popped up on everyone’s feeds. It was just your run-of-the-mill anonymous gossip, but what caught people’s eyes was that thoughts and opinions that had never even touched their lips were being shared.
Nothing inherently harmful, of course. You weren’t out to ruin lives; just shake them up a little.
Crushes were spilt, cheating was exposed, friendships were made, and friendships were broken. It was all just playful fun in your eyes.
To divert attention from yourself, you would add some of your ‘thoughts’ to the account. Things that would only be mildly embarrassing that you could easily brush off.
“Looks like you’re the hot topic today,” Yoko smiled, her eyes peeking out from atop her sunglasses as they had slipped down her face. She showed her phone screen to you, and you pretended to act surprised as you read the words ‘Y/N thinks Kent is cute’ as though you hadn’t been the one to write them.
“I won’t deny it; he’s easy on the eyes,” You shrugged, looking over at Kent, catching him looking at you. His face flushed red, and he looked away. “In, like, a puppy way.”
“Are you going to ask him out?” Yoko asked, her eyes looking over at him as well. “He’d say yes, but I think he’s just scared of you.”
“He’s scared of his own shadow,” You laughed, passing her phone back. “Again, he’s cute in a puppy way, not in an ‘I want to date him’ way- sorry, bud!” You called out the last words to Kent, who you knew had been listening in from the other table. Confusion and relief flooded his face, and you knew you’d picked the right person. Anyone else would have been more vocal about it. You would have risked being publicly rejected or, worse, asked out. You hedged your bets on Kent doing nothing about it, and it worked.
You scanned around the quad, hopping into people’s minds to see if you could pull anything out that would be useful to you later. It was like you were channel hopping, hearing bits and clips of people’s thoughts until something grabbed your interest.
“Wonder if Thing would like this new nail polish-” You heard from Enid.
“Who sets homework for-” You skipped Ajax almost immediately as you didn’t want to listen to him internally complain about homework for the seventh time in three days.
“Glad she doesn’t actually like him because I-” From Xavier.
“I just wish I-” You heard the start of Divina’s thoughts but panicked and switched back to Xavier. By the time you had, you had realised you were too late. Whatever he had been thinking had been derailed by Ajax talking to him about homework, and now his thoughts were focused on that.
Could he have been thinking about you? The timing would make sense. He was at the table over with Kent, and he would have been able to hear your conversation just as well. Your mind flooded with possibilities on how his thought could have ended. Against your will, it had fixated on the idea that maybe, just maybe, Xavier was glad you didn’t like Kent because he liked you.
What was also against your will was your mind, for some unknown reason, liked that idea.
You decided that you needed to keep tabs on his mind just to gather proof that you were wrong. There was no way that thought was about you, and even if it was, there was no way that was the reason behind it.
“Earth to Y/N!” Yoko snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you back into the moment. “Have you listened to a word I’ve been saying?”
“Yoko, my love, I am sorry, but I have not,” You used the pet name, hoping it would quell her bubbling annoyance at you. It was seemingly successful as she smiled.
“It’s okay! I can repeat myself… again!” She teased. You could only hope that a certain someone would also repeat themselves soon.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
You had been listening in to Xavier’s thoughts almost obsessively for a week, hoping to catch him thinking about you. You were barely paying attention in class as you were so wrapped up in this idea that maybe, just maybe, Xavier liked you. It was driving you crazy not to get the answers you wanted.
Then one day, at dinner, you got an answer.
Well, sort of.
Bianca was upset, and as her friend, you wanted to cheer her up. You didn’t pry far into her mind. You just knew that it was something to do with her mom. It wasn’t your business, and you didn’t make it your business. You were throwing M&Ms up into the air, trying to catch them in your mouth again. It had resulted in stray M&Ms on the floor, which you swore you would pick up when you were done.
After fourteen failed attempts, the fifteenth landed in your mouth, and you very openly cheered. The whole ordeal had put a smile on Bianca’s face, despite her eye-rolls about how mature you were being. 
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard his thoughts.
“That was cute,” It wasn’t exactly the love confession you had been hoping for, but it was something, and something was better than the whole heaps of nothing you’d been getting up until then. It had left you almost frozen in time for a split second, only snapping out of it when the one who had invaded your thoughts as you invaded his reached over to pluck out a stray M&M that had somehow gotten caught in your hair.
Effortlessly, he threw it up in the air and caught it in his mouth on the first try.
“Show-off,” You teased, trying not to get caught up on how cute and suave that move had been. That idea was thrown when he winked at you as he stood up to return to his dorm.
You realised that in your endeavours to see if he had a crush on you, you’d developed one on him. 
But you decided that two could play at the cute and suave game, and you set in motion a plan.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
“What the fuck?” Xavier shouted as you, in your bat form, flew through the window and crashed against the wall. You transformed back to your human form and held your now-pounding head.
“That…” You stumbled slightly, trying to stay upright as you turned around to face him. “That went so much better in my head.” “Why the hell did you even do it?” He was definitely confused, but his voice was also laced with concern. “Shit, your head is bleeding a bit.” He grabbed an old black hoodie he didn’t care too much for anymore and walked up to you. He gently pulled your hands away from where you had been clutching your head and held the hoodie up to it to try and stop the bleeding.
“Vampires in movies are so cool and suave,” You groaned, the reality of your situation hitting you almost as hard as you had hit the wall. “I wanted to be like them.” You avoided adding the ‘and you’ that followed it in your mind. You thanked whatever Gods there were that he couldn’t read your mind in return.
“That really doesn’t explain why you did it in the first place,” Xavier laughed. He had carefully pulled you over to sit down on his bed, which your shaking legs greatly appreciated. You weren’t sure if you were shaking from the shock or the nerves of what was about to come out of your mouth or if it was a horrid mixture of the two that had turned your entire body to jello.
“Okay, so…” You sighed, figuring it would just be easier to say it than dodge around it. As you had just awfully demonstrated, subtlety was not one of your strong suits. “I wanted to be all cute and mysterious so you would be more likely to say yes when I asked you if you wanted to go out on a date.” You felt his muscles stiffen next to you, but his hold on the hoodie hadn’t stopped.
You felt the nerves bubble up in your throat, hoping that rejection would be quick and painless and that you could just laugh it all off.
Then, he started laughing.
Somehow, that made it worse. He was probably laughing at you. You tried to dive into his mind to confirm your suspicions, but you were met with pain and mental static. You almost laughed at the idea that the hoodie was blocking your signal.
“There are so many easier ways to do that,” His laughter had settled down a little after a few seconds. “You could have spoken to me in person, called me, texted me; even a written letter slipped into my bag would have done the trick.”
“My handwriting sucks,” You laughed a little with him. It was easier to laugh off than to let the embarrassment consume you, and his own laughter had helped, even if it was aimed at you rather than with you. “And texts aren’t cool or mysterious.”
“The bleeding has mostly stopped, but you might want to get it checked out at the infirmary in case you have a concussion,” Xavier carefully pulled the hoodie away and tossed it to the side. “So, are you going to do it?”
“Yeah, I’ll go to the infirmary on my way back to my room,” You nodded, wincing at the pain that it caused.
“That’s good, but it's not what I meant,” He held out his arm to prevent you from standing up.
“What do you mean?” You asked, doing your best to avoid eye contact and find some sort of escape plan so you could crawl into a hole and regret the life choices you had made thus far.
“Are you going to ask me out on a date?” Your eyes widened as the words registered in your brain, and you looked up at him, still doing your best to avoid eye contact in case you lost your nerve.
“Depends if you’re going to say yes,” You tried not to look too hopeful, trying to cling onto any sliver of keeping cool after the disaster that the whole interaction had been so far.
“You’ll have to ask me to find out,” He fired back, a sly smile on his face. You took a deep breath.
“Do you… want to go out on a date?” You asked.
“With who?” He teased. Annoyance flashed past your face at how difficult he was making things, but he spoke again. “I’m kidding! It would be an honour to go out on a date with you.”
Relief washed through you. It had worked. Despite the absolute chaos and everything going wrong, it had worked.
“Do you know how many times I had to think about how much I liked you around you until you heard it?” Xavier laughed. You looked at him with confusion.
“Wait, do you know-” You started to ask, but he cut you off. “Do I know that you can read minds?” He finished for you. “Do you remember your second day at Nevermore? I left my hoodie on my chair in botany. I realised it halfway out the door, but before I could turn and grab it, you were behind me, holding it out to me. Then, you said that the torn seam was easily fixable and that I could borrow the sewing kit you’d brought with you.”
“Which you did!” You recalled the memory from the months before. “How did that clue you in, though? I thought I’d been careful and said it as though I’d seen the tear.”
“I’d mistaken the hoodie I had with me for another one,” He explained. “The hoodie I had was fine. The one with the tear was in the wash. I thought it was weird, so I tested things a few times. I’d think about certain things, and you would casually bring them up or direct the conversation so I could be the one to bring them up.”
“And during that time, I guess I fell for you,” Your face flushed as you heard that thought, loud and clear.
“I know you heard that one,” Xavier laughed nervously. “I hope that didn’t overstep any boundaries.”
“Xavier, I just flew in through your window after regularly reading your thoughts. If anyone overstepped boundaries, it was for sure me!” You snorted with laughter as you spoke. Hearing Xavier think it was ‘cute’ made your face feel hot but in a pleasant way. You managed to calm down a little as you made eye contact with him for what was the first time since you’d flung yourself into his room.
“I want to kiss you,” You heard his thoughts again, loud and clear.
“Then do it,” You told him. It was a challenge he was more than to accept as he gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your head up and pressing a soft kiss against your lips which you gladly returned.
A/N - have I beta read this at all? hell no - any mistakes y'all find please lemme know 💀
feel free to send in any requests for xavier or other wednesday characters and I will get to what I can!!
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silly-l1ttle-guy · 4 months
Note
drop every headcanon of the bucci gang NOW!
ON IT BOSS!!!
--- pookie bear bruno hcs first <3
BRUNO BUCCIARATI IS 100% GAY FOR LEONE ABBACCHIO
they just kinda live together
bruabba holds a special place in my heart
bruno's probably stressed out 24/7
VERY FEMININE GUY
hes got soft features yk?
probably spends like 3 hours doing his hair in the morning
ISTG HE PROBABLY SMELLS SO GOOD
I like to think that he legally adopted Fugo after fugso bugso joined that gang
SHUT UP IT MAKES ME HAPPY
poor guy overworks himself WAY too often
he also has the most gorgeous eyelashes you'll ever see
and they're natural, too
THIS MAN HAS EYEBAGS
he's tired af half the time, idk what you expected
he tries to help fugo control his anger (bc he's a loving mother) (giorno does it better tho)
i reckon bruno's pansexual tbh, he just seems like he wouldn't give a shit about his partner's gender
he likes going fishing
brought Abbacchio along one time
abba got seasick and threw up
he likes to accessorize his hair (hence the mitochondria hair clips)
sometimes he'll let the others accessorize his hair, too
trish makes it look really cute
abba makes it look stunning (bc it's his boyfriend)
narancia just puts random shit in his hair
Mista sings loudly (and badly) to be a little shit while he does Bruno's hair (it turns out surprisingly ok)
giorno deadass just puts a shit ton of stars in his hair
fugo gets mad and almost rips a chunk of Bruno's hair out
Bruno's guilty pleasure is midnight snacks
abbacchio caught him eating a whole ass tub of ice cream while watching il postino: the postman at like 2 in the morning
they watched it together and cuddled afterwards
hot goth
gay for bruno
he probably watches those make up youtube channels
if he didn't join passione he could be a make up artist
lets trish practice on him
HE SEES NARANCIA AS HIS SON AND YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE
he's full on protective of nara too
i like to give abbacchio sharper features when i draw him tbh
also a larger nose
and while we're at it, let's hook that bad boy (the nose)
he and bruno go on wine testing dates
he has very frequent and reoccurring nightmares
(its why he sleeps with bruno)
his parents cut contact when they found out he was a dirty cop :(
this man saw narancia on his first day in the gang and accepted his fate as a father LMAO
he's a gay man and you can't tell he's not. Never felt attraction towards women
he feels like time moves by too fast. Everything happens so quickly and he wishes he could go back and just relive certain parts of his life over and over again because he feels like everything happens so quickly now that he's older and it overwhelms him (this definitely isn't me projecting what're you talking about)
moody blues is sort of the representation of this
SENTIENT MOODY BLUES SUPREMACY BY THE WAY
Moody blues is curvy and i won't accept anything else
make moody look goddamn feminine
not too feminine obviously but like
moody looks like a woman compared to abbacchio
tells people he can't dance but he definitely can
just play the right music and give him enough wine and he'll be dancing like he's never danced before (only in private tho)
YOOUU CAN DANCE, YOOUU CAN JIIVVEEEEE~~
EVERYTIME I LISTEN TO HALF-DECADE HANGOVER BY WILL WOOD I JUST THINK OF ABBACCHIO
and maybe euthanasia by will wood too
not even kidding, abbacchio has the same body type as a greek god
also the strongest guy in the team
the guy that has a dream
GIORNO. WHERE DO I FUCKING START.
I love this weird ass fucking guy
gay for fugo. that's all I'm gonna say.
I KNOW HE ACTED FRUITY W/ MISTA BUT IT'S BC HE'S A LITTLE SHIT WHO LIKES TO FLIRT WITH HIS FRIENDS AS A JOKE
not abba or bruno tho (they're too old for his taste)
remember that one seen where he and mista are up against cioccolata (fuck him btw) and they do that gay ass pose?
prime example of giorno being a little shit
putting his hand down mista's pants was an accident by the way, he just said "fuck it" and went with it
he probably showed the gang the thing he could do with his ear
they had very mixed reactions
one day (before the gang) he woke up and saw his roots were blond and he just went like "sigh, guess I have to grow my hair out and become barbie
THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS THE TWINK
also bc his dad is dio I like to think that he sunburns easily
he can also see really well and the dark
"It's so dark in here, I can't see shit!" "I can, there's a light switch over there."
everyone was confused as hell bc it was pitch black in that room
this man is gay. he likes BOYS and BOYS ONLY
i like to think Giorno's a mischievous lil guy
he does something silly then giggles and runs away
it's to make up for the fact that he didn't have a proper childhood
ALSO CURLY HAIR GIORNO SUPREMACY
his hair is gorgeous and luxurious AND SO FUCKING CURLY
he uses about 20 hair products every day (21 if he's going on a date)
he can calm fugo down so easily too
"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU NARANCIA-" "Hi fugo!" "Oh, hey Giorno."
it's really scary (according to narancia and mista)
this man loves gardening
born to be a gardener, forced to be a gangstar
autistic (it runs in the family)
the stink
Mista is the type of guy who showers once or twice a week
he only washes his clothes when they get too dirty
I like to make this man a little wider honestly
GIVE THIS MAN SOME CHUB PLEASE
he's muscular, but he's gotta have a little meat on there too
I like to think that Mista outright REFUSES to shave
the only place that he can grow barely any hair is his face
never shaved his face. He doesn't have much facial hair and he'll be damned if he ever has to get rid of the little that he has
bffs with trish btw
they make fun of each other all the time
in a friendly way
he honestly looks the least gay out of everyone
probably bi with a heavy preference towards girls (he had a boyfriend one time tho)
STINKS SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY
sometimes he shoves Narancia's face in his armpit for fun
I'm not even kidding Narancia probably threw up one time bc Mista stank so bad
older brother figure to EVERYONE
Giorno? that's his baby brother. Narancia? his favourite brother. Trish? his little sister. Fugo? that's his angry little brother.
I have so many mista headcanons it's unreal
his hair is so fucking curly istg
and it's black too
very short tho. also super greasy
his love language is physical touch, but not in the usual physical touch way
he won't really hug people or hold hands or just do something normal, oh no
my guy likes to pick people up and throw them over his shoulder
it's definitely not to show off how strong he is
definitely
everything about him is so crusty
he literally gets along with anyone tho
you can't tell me this guy DOESN'T smoke weed
not very often but like
once every month or two he'll get high to relax
he stopped after Giorno took over as boss (bc yk, drugs are a no no)
he probably thinks France isn't real tbh (but as a joke to annoy fugo)
I HAVE MORE MISTA HEADCANONS BUT I HAVE TO CUT IT SHORT BECAUSE I NEED TO MOVE ON TO THE OTHERS
angry strawb (lots of angst in this one)
fugo is deeply in love with Giorno (FUGIO FOR LIFE)
a little bit of angst warning btw
bc of his past, fugo HATES physical touch
if someone touches him he will flinch
very uncomfortable in crowded places
Mista's love language is physical touch, but he refrains himself from touching Fugo
it's really sweet
"HEY FUGO! Lemme give you a high-five! Wait, no, you don't like that. Have this cool rock I found instead!"
he's trying
Fugo really appreciates it
after phf, he let Mista be one of the two people who can touch him (the other person is Giorno)
Fugo just randomly hugged him one day and that was that
he was really distraught when he found out Narancia, Bruno and abba died
especially Bruno
like I said before, Bruno adopted him after he joined the gang, so he genuinely saw Bruno as a father figure
definitely called Bruno "dad" in private
He genuinely cried when he realized he missed Bruno's funeral
MOVING ON TO THE NON ANGSTY STUFF BC IM GONNA CRY
when he's a bad mood, he listens to music with Abbacchio (his dad's cool boyfriend who he looks up to)
will correct any and all spelling or grammar mistakes
nerd supreme
i like to headcanon that Fugo's albino
(MANGA FUGO FOR LIFE)
he's really sensitive to sunlight because of it
his vision isn't that good, too
it's not bad enough to the point where he can't read and all that, but it definitely bothers him
since it wasn't too serious, he got some glasses that corrected his vision
he only really wears them when he's reading now, but he used to wear them all the time when he was younger
GOD I HAVE A LOT OF FUGO HEADCANONS
sometimes he wakes up and there's just a bouquet of flowers at the foot of his bed (I WONDER WHO THAT WAS HMMMM)
Narancia's like a little brother towards him
he doesn't care that nara's a year older than him, that's his brother
genuinely will forget to eat if he isn't reminded (me projecting)
i have more but i'm gonna have to end it here
BABY BOY <3
I LOVE NARANCIA I HAVE A NARANCIA PLUSHIE (and a giorno one but that's less important)
he originally had really good eyesight, but after his eye got infected his eyesight just kinda went bad
his eyes expired
but seriously though (woah no way, silly little guy can be serious?), he's almost blind in the eye that got infected
doesn't wanna wear glasses bc "they'll ruin his reputation"
he's also really short compared to everyone else in the team
he's really insecure about it
can and will fight anyone who says something even remotely teases him for his height
low iron for sure (me too bud, me too)
Abbacchio just took on the role as his father and makes sure he eats all his food
"But it tastes badddd" "Eat it or I'll shove it down your throat. Also, it has good iron."
he ate it, but was very pouty about it the whole time
mista will point at things made of iron and say shit like "that's what you need" or "you should eat that to get your iron levels up"
skinny but he's really strong
my guy has a six pack but looks scrawny as hell
Mista's jealous of him lmao
"Why do YOU get a six pack?!" "because you're fat"
Mista then forced Narancia to smell his armpits (they were rank)
he does a lot of shit with Mista lmao
partners in crime
he got high with mista one time and never did it again
oddly flexible
he's probably dyslexic
the girlboss
live laugh love Trish
lesbian fr
she practices makeup on Abbacchio
another one that sees abba as a father figure
they point each other's nails and go shopping together
Mista's bff fr
they do karaoke together
yk that one tiktok sound that was that like "OH SHIT IT'S IN KOREAN" and then starts singing it perfectly anyway
that's her and Mista
Mista's the one that sings it lmao
i don't have that many headcanons for trish tbh
she likes to try out new hairstyles a lot
they're always short tho
she doesn't like growing out her hair
says it's too much of hassle
we love trish in the household
she has freckles (from doppio)
yk those weird ass dots diavolo has in his hair? she has those but they're less noticeable
talks shit about people with abbacchio
she likes ranting about stuff to giorno bc he's a good listener
big fan of scented candles
gave mista soap for his birthday
she has frequent headaches (something she got from doppio, bc i hc that he has frequent headaches)
ANYWAY THAT'S IT FOR NOW
do you wanna hear about my la squadra headcanons? Doppio and Diavolo??? PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY GOOD HEADCANONS JUST LET ME RANT-
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d4adf4iry · 10 months
Text
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“Mr Kennedy”
(Smut warning 18+, degradation, office au, quickie, secretary, oral, p in v.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your hand rested on the storage self in the closet that y’all were in, it squeaking ever so lightly with the thrust of Leon. His hand was over your mouth to keep your moans from overflowing out of you. If someone were to walk in you didn’t know what to do, you were quite literally fucking the cop that helped the president in the goddamn storage closet. But little did you know he was good at what he was doing. “Shhh baby I know” Leon whispered in your ear as he made his way to your neck his thrusts getting deeper. You moaned slightly. He stopped thrusting into you and you were confused by the lack of warmth that washed over you. “Wha” your words cut off to Leon moving in between your thighs, kissing them up to your sensitive clit. His hot breath fanned over your pussy as he dipped down into it, his tounge licking your lips. “Oh fuck” you panted your legs were shaking already. God damn Leon he knew how to tease you and this wasn’t the first time either. “Look at you already shaken up and I just pleased you ever so slightly” his voice slightly muffled between your thighs, he grabbed your right thigh pressing you down so he could have more access to you. “Fuck I can never get enough of you,your to intoxicating” he started sucking your clit relentlessly as if has never tasted you before. You felt you legs get weaker as you had to hold yourself up on his shoulder and the rack behind you. You big your knuckles are to try and not make too much noise. His fingers found that entrance as he fucked you like so. His fingers going in and out and licking and sucking your senstive bud. “Oh fuck fuck Leon I think I’m gonna cum Jesus” after you said that you came on his fingers. Heavy breathing was all was heard after your orgasm. “I’m not done with you yet, turn around.” You had no room to argue you liked seeing him like this he rarely showed his dominating side. You faced the shelf behind you. He got behind you and started thrusting himself inside you stretching you out. “You like my cock don’t you, you fucking slut.” your back arched in pleasure as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Y-yes” you moaned out. He felt his back pressed up against yours. You cupped your breasts as they bounced with ever movement he made. I liked doing these with him it was scandalous and someone could walk in at any second you both liked the thrill. “Leon I want you please” you panted. He groaned at your words. Your hand came down to your bud as you rubbed it getting extra overstimulated. He started whimpering as it felt like he was close. He pulled out and you got on your knees waiting for him to come. After he came you sucked his cock as your cheeks hollowed. He ran his hand down his face and his chest was moving up and down. He pulled your hair pushing you more into his cock. You gagged at his length he quickly came in your mouth again. After you guys were done you cleaned yourself up you made sure you looked appropriately. You fixed your striped skirt and he fixed his police gear. “Thank you Mr.Kennedy” you smirked as you walked out the storage closet.
(This one was kinda short since it was a “quickie” I guess LMAO anyways hope y’all enjoy <3)
Ps. I think I missed a few warning in the top 🧍🏽‍♀️
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