PLEASE DON'T FIGHT 😭😭🙏

David Harbour as Jim Hopper STRANGER THINGS S05E06 | Escape from Camazotz

hugh has been chain-smoking for the last hour, but doesn't second guess lighting another. he has an agreement of sorts with the owner of the motel, that this room has a blind eye turned to it when it's about the comings and goings or the smoking. he scoffs out soft laughter, amusement flashing over his features. they used to have a routine of sorts, but it's clear that griffin is struggling with accepting as much. he licks his lips and elaborates, cigarette wafting between his fingers. "you and i both know the drill. i say jump, you say yes sir, how high, sir, please fuck me, sir..." he pretends he'll tip someone off, griffin pretends he doesn't live for the meetings. still, it's been a month since he reached out. "what if i missed ya'?"

griffin flinches like he's been smacked when hugh's words wash over him, but even then he can't deny the truth that's wrapped up within them. it still stings, though, and is only made worse when he feels that familiar lurch of needing the other's attention, especially as he asks that question. “fuck you,” he spits out, but there's not a lot of heat under his words, his gaze fixed on the lit end of the other's cigarette. he shifts slightly, sitting on his hands, and he wonders for a brief moment if hugh knows. he swallows, chewing hard at the inside of his cheek until he's certain he tastes blood. “did y'know it was me?” he hopes he can ask the question without needing to elaborate — that string of bodies griffin had left on hugh's metaphorical doorstep, like a cat bringing a dead mouse to its owner. love me, i did this for you, i did this for you. he squirms almost uncomfortably, chest growing tight. “did y'know i did it for you… sir?”

this is not a predicament that louis finds himself in often. unfortunately for him, he's painfully charmed by the soft utterance that falls from teddy's soft, pink lips. he stares, entranced for a moment before he swallows, dropping his gaze and smiling in spite of how warm his body has grown in the midst of being pressed against him. it's not a situation he should be in at all and yet he allows teddy to pull him closer, his eyes trailing from his eyes down to his lips once more. "and are you offering to provide whatever it is i came here for, then?" he asks in return, his hands finally reaching out for teddy's hips, keeping him nice and close. "let's not pretend we didn't both come here for a reason."

he knows there's plenty of risks abound every time he finds himself in louis' arms like this, but teddy has grown almost addicted to it, the way the other man makes him feel like he's on top of the world every time they touch. he catches the way his gaze drops almost immediately, and he grins, trying to ignore the shiver that runs through his frame as louis finally grabs at his hips. he hums, almost a mimicry of thought before he bats his eyelashes at him, doe-eyes wide and innocent. “mmm, you're gonna have to be a bit more specific than that, i think,” he starts, but deep down he knows exactly what the other is gunning for, and admittedly teddy has had it on his mind since that morning. he pouts slightly, hand dropping lower until he's flirting with the button on his pants. “i'm not here for a pop quiz, mister.”

it's easy to be pleased with the way that raine squirms, but london is even more grateful for the ties that keep her wrists above her head, secured to the headboard as they continue to enjoy the slow, torturous pleasure being inflicted on her perfect body. the corner of their mouth lifts in amusement, head cocking to the side as they put on a cruel, mimicking pout. "i don't know you're in any position to be makin' demands, baby." they point out, short nails trailing down the inside of her spread thighs, knowing she'll buck her hips for them. "you just look so pretty like this, all desperate and needy for me."

for all attempts to exorcise james from his life and his mind, here salvatore goes again, staring at the number that flashes on his cheap phone with hesitation. his own failures that week are one thing, but answering is the wrong call, he knows that clearly. the property is quiet now as the truck comes to a stop and sal holds his breath for a moment, before he gives in, bringing the phone to his ear and muttering a greeting. his mind is almost blank, his heart thumping hard as he listens to the voice on the other line. he knew it was him even before he answered and now as he stands there silently, he stares at the door. "what is there to explain, jimmy? you gotta let it go. we can't keep doing this shit."

he knows that he's home, and that somehow makes it worse, hearing his voice on the other end of the line while sal keeps a literal and metaphorical door between the two of them. or maybe that was jimmy's own doing, but he can't help the low, almost mournful noise he lets out in response to his words, and he presses his closed fist against his forehead for a moment as if it would somehow clear his head from everything swirling through it. “sal —” he starts, and he hates the way his voice cracks, letting his closed fist fall to his lap as his eyes dart toward the door as if it would somehow open. his free hand fumbles for the car door, and he opens it, stepping out and leaning against the closed door, pressing his forehead to the metal. “i know. i know — i just, y'gotta let me explain, i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but i'm — i'm tryin'. for you. i'm tryin' for you, sal, c'mon, please just let me in —”

alden is rarely nice. the other knows this by now, so they likely aren't surprised by the way he sits there scowling and icing his bloodied knuckles. his trailer is warm, the breeze making the curtains lift and float in slow steady breaths. he's trying not to look at them too much and failing miserably, his cheeks warming as their hand smooths against his thigh. his spine stiffens and his gaze zeroes in on them. "i wanted to punch them anyway, you don't have to jerk me off as thanks."

it feels a little too cliche, like some scene out of one of those bodice rippers finn used to steal out of their mom's room when they were convinced she wasn't looking, back when she was still around. someone defending their honor, giving up some piece of themself as a thanks — they can't help the way they flinch, though, when alden stiffens up, hand immediately retreating as their cheeks turn pink, avoiding his gaze entirely. they can feel sweat pooling at the base of their spine, their heart finally getting the message to calm down. “y'didn't have to, though,” they start, voice slightly lilting as if it would somehow convince him otherwise. “for me. and i — i want to. wanna make y'feel good. please?”

something about joey's behaviour has nate feeling more and more alert, noticing the way the other more heavily leans into him. his own hand presses against his back, holding onto him for a moment, though it seems that joey is resisting admitting what's really on his mind. the small talk irks him, prompting a scoff. nate leans back from him for a moment, noting where his eyeline is directed and then licks his lips idly. "are you trying to ask if i'm spoken for? what the fuck?" he laughs, waving his bottle in front of his eyes as he continues. "you're holding some shit in. you'll feel better if you just fucking say it, y'know." he prompts. shit, now nate is looking at his mouth too. he tightens his jaw and narrows his gaze, insisting.

even the scoff threatens to undermine the way that joey's clinging on for dear life to nate's attention, but all good things have to come to an end eventually, or however the fuck that saying goes. joey swallows, gaze dropping down again when nate waves the beer bottle, and joey barely suppresses a laugh with a poorly timed cough, eyebrows raising slightly. “oh, so now y'can just read my mind, huh?” he starts, but he knows he's deflecting even further, and joey can feel that uncomfortable edge squirming to life within him, feeling like he's backed himself into a metaphorical corner. his heartbeat is thudding in his ears, although he can't really tell if it's that or the bass from the music thumping through the floor. he mumbles something incoherent to his own ears, and his cheeks flush under the dim light, finally breaking eye contact. “was just — wonderin' if you maybe would ever wanna teach me how to, y'know —” lips form an ‘o’ shape, bringing his own hand up to his mouth and poking at his cheek with his tongue in a poorly pantomimed version of a blowjob, too embarrassed to even say it out loud. he lets it hang between them for a moment before he drops his hand, taking another swig of his beer and not even caring about the way it burns down his throat. “only if — jesus, only if y'want to, christ, forget i said anythin', alright —”

OFF CAMPUS (2026- )

THE RIP ‧ 2026