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spicyspiders · 1 month

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something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy.

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you.

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door.

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy.

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you.

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable.

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground.

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you.

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays.

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands.

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift.

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand.

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you.

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk.

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable.

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window.

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door.

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob.

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day.

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear.

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back.

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back.

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear.

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock.

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock.

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real.

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth.

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed.

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base.

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up.

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #milkman x reader #milkman x male reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x male reader #francis mosses x male reader smut

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queenimmadolla · 3 months

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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

“Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

“Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

“It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

“Branzino.”

“It��s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already.

Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion.

He was so proud and in love.

You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

“She was stretching.” He correctly deduced.

“Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

“Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

“Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

“No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

“Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

“Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

“I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

“And since she’s craving it─”

“She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

“You read it in a book, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Ask your doctor about it?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

“Branzino in the middle of winter.”

“It’s what she wants!”

“It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye.

“Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

“You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you.

That damn fish was so worth it.

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meteors-lotr · 5 months

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Bard totally thought Bilbo and Thorin were married

I’m back on my bs

So I remembered yesterday that the dwarves like totally lied straight to Bard’s face when they first met him, saying that they were going across the lake cause they were visiting their relatives in the iron hills. Now who knows how much of that he believed, but ya know, he didn’t ask many questions at least

So sure, cool. Couple of dwarves traveling between the blue mountains and the iron hills, nothing strange about that, they’re dwarves. But amongst the bearded little dudes, there’s a Hobbit. Hobbits, who famously rarely travel anywhere, much less as far as the iron hills. What is he doing so far from home?

But since none of the dwarves said anything akin to “Also this hobbit is traveling with us, just for convenience”, then it must mean that the hobbit is with them. Apart of the group, apart of the family. And unless one of these dwarves have adopted the little dude, which would be highly unlikely, he must be apart of the family in some other way. And what’a the most common way to enter a family? Marriage.

So the Hobbit, Bilbo as he introduces himself as, is probably married to one of the dwarves. But who? Well, he’s seen standing very close to the brooding one with dark hair and short beard. The brooding dwarf in fact rarely leaves his side, always standing on the ready to protect the little one.

And in the town square, when the brooding one (Thorin, rightful king of Erebor) needs someone to vouch for him, who is the first to pipe up but the hobbit, speaking highly of the young king, with adoration and hope in his eyes.

But not only did Bard probably think the two were married, no he also probably thought he was witnessing their divorce first hand on top of the wall of Erebor. Probably one of the weirdest couples he’s ever met, and his town had the unibrow guy hooking up with Stephen Fry.

#lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #bard the bowman #The hobbit analysis #the hobbit desolation of smaug #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #Thilbo #bagginshield

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theemporium · 7 months

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“Baby?”

Silence.

“Babe?”

Silence.

“Luke?”

Silence.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

You let out a small huff as you shifted once again, like you had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. Luke had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that he was already asleep and that he didn’t notice the way you kept wiggling around. But it was hard to ignore it when you were practically shaking the whole bed every twenty seconds.

“Stop being rude,” you muttered as you turned your body so you were facing him. You tucked one arm under your pillow, the other picking at the duvet in the space between you both. “I can’t fall asleep.”

His brows furrowed together slightly, even if his eyes were still closed. “You good?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered honestly.

You didn’t know why you felt so off. Everything seemed fine. In fact, everything seemed perfect. This was the first year you were invited to join your boyfriend at the lakehouse. You had met Luke just before last summer had started, near the end of the hockey season at a coffee shop. It felt like a scene written out of a book or a romcom, with him rushing out as you were rushing in—only to collide and have iced coffees split over both of you.

It had been an awkward but wholesome meeting. Luke was fumbling over his words, his cheeks burning pink and his brain seeming unable to properly work with a pretty girl right in front of him. You found it endearing, especially when Jack had opened his window to yell at his brother to hurry up before they were late to morning skate.

Luke had blurted out, asking for your number and it had been a dream ever since.

You spent all of last summer texting and calling and getting to know each other. When he came back to Jersey, you met up at the same coffee shop for your first date, which only led to many, many more. And when summer rolled around again, Luke had asked for you to come with him and his friends to the lakehouse, and you had accepted.

The lakehouse was a dream. It was the perfect summer destination, his friends were amazing and his family were even better. You got along with his mother, you bonded with his father, you laughed with his brothers, you joked with his friends. It was perfect, and yet you were still unable to wave off the tightness in your chest that hadn’t left.

And now, lying in the dark room after a long day out on the lake, you should have fallen asleep the second your head hit the pillow like Luke was fighting to do right now. Instead, you were squirming and rolling around and trying to shake off the weirdest urge to cry.

“C’mere,” Luke murmured as he opened his arms, giving you a total of three seconds to react before he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “Talk to me.”

“M’sorry, you were about to sleep,” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his chest and it helped a little. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep if you’re not okay,” Luke said with a frown on his face. He blinked his eyes open, the bleariness still there as he looked down at you. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You sighed, your arms winding around his torso as you settled on top of him. “Just feel…weird.”

“Weird?”

“Weird,” you repeated with a small shrug. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just getting in my own head.”

“Baby, don’t do that,” Luke grumbled, softly pinching your hip in retaliation as you squealed softly.

“This helps,” you reassured him. “Being with you helps.”

“It does?” He questioned, sounding adorably clueless and flattered, and it made your lips twitch.

“Yeah, it helps being close to you,” you said to him, settling happily as his arms tightened around you. “You make me feel safe.”

“Oh,” he murmured before he smiled a little. “You make me feel safe as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on his chest just where his heart was beating. “I’ll fall asleep now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But you didn’t. Because despite feeling safer in Luke’s arms, it didn’t stop the thoughts whirling around in your brain. It eased the tightness in your chest, but not the chaos in your head. And despite thinking you weren’t being obvious, Luke could feel how tense and rigid you were in his arms. He knew you weren’t fine. He knew you were getting in your own head. And he wanted to help.

“Mmph,” you let out a surprised noise when Luke rolled over, the comforting weight of his body on top of you as he lifted his head up. “Luke—”

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly, cutting you off.

“Of course,” you breathed out before nodding. “Of course I do.”

“Just relax f’me then, okay?” He muttered out sleepily as his hands squeezed your hips before one hand started to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Luke–” You started again, but he swiftly quieted you with a kiss. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted into his embrace, feeling your stomach dip with excitement as his tongue worked its way into your mouth as his large palm cupped your cunt.

“Just need to get that brain of yours to calm down,” he murmured between slow, messy kisses as his thumb pressed against your clit in slow circles. “Need you to just lay there and look pretty, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut as his kisses slowly trailed down to your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low voice, pushing your downs until they were abandoned somewhere by the foot of the bed. His fingers softly glided through your folds, humming in delight when he felt you already dripping for him. “That’s my girl.”

“Luke,” you whispered, so aware that the house was silent and that people were asleep, but so uncaring when your boyfriend slowly worked you open. “Please.”

“I know, babe, I know,” he murmured in a hushed voice. “Just gotta trust me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you whined, a little breathy and high-pitched, and it made his cock twitch.

You felt like you were already spiralling with his fingers curled inside you, slowly thrusting in and out as he hit spots that your own fingers never seemed to reach. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer—and then he pulled out.

“No,” you cried out with a whimper, glossy eyes finding his in the dark as he chuckled softly. “Why—”

“Shhh, gonna fill you up, babe,” he assured you, silencing you once again with a kiss as his free hand worked his cock out of his boxers. “No need to cry about it.”

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream as he slowly pushed inside you, so big and deep and overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything except the pleasurable burn of him stretching you out. Your nails dug into his skin, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from moving away and it was hard to think about anything else other than himhimhimhimhim—

“There we go,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he laid on top of you. “Takin’ me so well, baby.”

“Luke,” you breathed out.

“Shhh, just gonna stay like this,” he told you in a whispered voice, his hands tracing up and down your sides. “Just gonna keep you full, okay? We’re gonna sleep like this tonight.”

Your eyes clenched shut as he thrusted a little deeper inside you. “But—”

“Nuh uh, just like this, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing the pulse point on your neck. “Think you can do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clinging onto him.

“Atta girl,” he hummed. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“You always do,” you retorted instantly.

“Exactly, baby. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

“Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

#cece's smutober #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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harmonictechnicality · 11 months

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Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit).

But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.

Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.

Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.

Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.

After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer.

Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.

And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless.

This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.

The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.

“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him.

“How’d you know?”

“Bed felt different.”

Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing.

Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.

“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack.

It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.

Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago.

Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.

“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”

Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”

“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”

“What about work?”

“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”

Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”

Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw.

He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.

Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.

Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’

The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.

When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up. Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.

“Yeah?”

“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.

“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”

The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.

“What do you mean it’s simple?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”

More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.

Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.

“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.

More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.

“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is the first little thing I've written since submitting my Big Bang draft #it’s a lot softer than my normal stuff but hey #insomnia writing do be like that sometimes #(so yeah - I projected my sleep problems onto Steve)#(and yeah - I projected my tangly hair onto Eddie)#let me liveeeeeeee

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

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content warning: this took SUCH a turn to dom eddie munson wanting to make steve harrington just absolutely one, turn his brain off, and two- realize that his interests aren’t stupid. like it’s not… necessarily explicit on here but when this gets a bit more fleshed out… it’s gonna have to be posted on ao3 😂

The thing is, Steve Harrington knows hair- okay?

And he also knows that his friends completely like to tease him about it, that they think that most of the time his affinity for it is a bit narcissistic. That he shouldn’t spend as much time as he does on it and he should “let go sometimes”, but he can’t.

He can remember watching his mother years ago in the bathroom mirror teach him how to style his hair, with little spritzes of water and a just a few puffs of sweet smelling hairspray. He can fully and thoroughly recall flipping through magazines when he was younger, back when his parents had started to travel, and taking beauty tips from the pages in regards to detangling. He’d spent three days with a knot at the nape of his neck, after a few days of swim practice, and he had too much pride at the time to ask anyone for help.

But anyway, Steve Harrington knows hair- and it’s not that he thinks other people don’t… but he also knows that some people don’t care as much as he does. And that’s why watching Eddie Munson take a brush to his curls (completely dry which is painful in it of itself) is absolutely heartbreaking in the weirdest way possible.

Steve also is completely and totally aware that his face must be doing… something, because Eddie has turned around to fully face him- instead of glaring daggers at his own reflection.

“What, Harrington?”

Steve shook his head quickly, fingers drumming against his thighs as he diverted his attention to the tv again. He hadn’t had a television in his room before actually, had figured it’d be a bit too much of a distraction from trying to sleep. Steve is sure there’s some study about the light too, a study Robin had rambled to him before.

That’d been before Vecna though, before the year 1986 and all of it’s horrors that it brought along to the town Hawkins once again. In Steve’s mind? A small tv and a couple of VHS tapes was probably the least of his worries after surviving everything. The tv itself had some poorly made horror movie on, something Eddie had brought along from his government provided home, while the two waited on Robin and Nancy to make their way over.

“Stevie?” Eddie had moved closer, brows slightly furrowed as his dark eyes widened. “What’s on your mind, man? Not getting like…” Eddie mimed wiggling his fingers at the side of his own head, and Steve couldn’t hold back the laugh that made it’s way out from his throat. “Okay so Vecna is not getting his creepy hands on you… so what’s up then?”

Steve took a moment and shrugged, before he let himself card a wide-splayed hand through his own hair. The hairspray was just ever so slightly crunchy under his fingers, and Steve huffed as he shrugged again.

“It’s so stupid man, like don’t even worry about it.” Steve flapped a hand in Eddie’s direction, and Eddie was quick to click his tongue against the back of his teeth as he moved closer.

“Nuh uh, big boy.” Eddie eased himself onto the foot of the bed, and Steve forced himself to not scrunch his nose as Eddie’s dry curls swished a bit around his shoulders. “C’mon I can see it in your eyes! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell m-”

Steve cut Eddie off with a press of a flat palm up against Eddie’s lips, and Steve tried to not think about how soft Eddie was up against Steve’s skin. Steve groaned as Eddie’s tongue swiped against his flesh, and Steve hissed as he reared backward away from the older teen.

“Fucking gross dude!”

“Usually I’m the one doing that, big boy!”

Steve and Eddie both spoke up at the same time, and the two eyed each other warily, before they split into soft laughs between the two. Eddie then shifted further up onto the bed, back pressed up against the footboard, before he knocked his leg against Steve’s.

“C’mon dude, what’s up?”

“Your hair!” Steve finally answered, before he then folded his arms over his chest. “I know it’s stupid, but watching you tear a brush through it dry is actually breaking my heart, Munson.” Steve groaned, and ran a hand over his face before he continued. “And I know it’s stupid and everyone always says it’s stupid of me to care about hair so much-”

“It’s not stupid.” Eddie’s firm tone cut Steve off, and Steve glanced back toward the man through his lashes. Eddie’s jaw is set, firm and unyielding, and Eddie let out a dry laugh. “Fuck man, what has everyone in your life done to you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re… fuck sweetheart, you’re allowed to enjoy things.” Eddie’s voice has gone saccharine sweet, soft and gooey- and the tone has an immediate effect on Steve, making his brain feel all fuzzy and soft. “So, what has everyone in your life done to you?”

Steve doesn’t answer and instead just shrugged again, and it draws a quick intake of breath from Eddie- before the man has pushed himself up and off of Steve’s bed. He’s quick and methodical in his movements, scraping his curls up and off of his neck into a low bun at his nape. Eddie then pulled his boots back on, before he checked his pockets for a moment, and then proceeded to nod to himself. Eddie then extended a hand out to Steve, and wiggled his fingers with a small grin on his face.

“C’mon then, dude. We need to go to the store.”

Steve let his hand meet Eddie’s, and is quick to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the touch. His hands, Eddie’s, are larger than his but the fingers skinnier and calloused from what Steve knows to be years of guitar playing. That, and Eddie now has a pretty decent job at the local mechanic shop, and Steve knows that Eddie enjoys the job. Knows that Eddie likes working with his hands, and Steve tried to ignore the idea of Eddie getting those hands on Steve—

“Stevie?” Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Steve’s eyes, and Steve shook himself out of his revere. Steve sent Eddie a nervous smile, and he tried to ignore the flush of heat he can feel under his cheeks at the soft coo that Eddie let out. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” Steve bobbed his head in a quick nod, even when Eddie hummed before he moved as to grab the pair of Nikes that Steve had on earlier in the day. “Where are we uh, headed?”

“You and I-” Eddie moved back to Steve, and he curled a hand around Steve’s right ankle before he pulled- which caused Steve to unsteadily rock back, before he clamped a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I gotcha don’t ya worry baby-” Eddie murmured, soft and saccharine again, before he continued on as if Steve’s heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest. Eddie worked Steve’s Nike onto his foot, methodical in tying the laces tight, double-knotted just like Steve does. “You and me are gonna make our way out to Anderson for the afternoon.”

“But why?”

Eddie just sighed, soft and slow at Steve’s softly asked question, before he grabbed at Steve’s left foot, and set about slipping the other shoe onto it. Eddie took a moment, made sure to tie the laces of the shoe tight, before he stood back up so he could peer down slightly at Steve. Steve doesn’t move as Eddie pinched Steve’s chin soft in between his thumb and pointer, before Eddie slightly shook Steve’s face from side to side.

It’s enough that something in Steve just burns.

“Because Anderson has a nice and big hair supply shop in it, and we’re gonna go spend a little bit of government hush money there.” Eddie cooed, his voice soul-achingly sweet again, and Steve forced himself to swallow down the saliva that had been quick to pool in his mouth at Eddie’s tone. “And then when we’re done, I’ll drive us back here and you can do anything you want to my hair.”

“Anything?” Steve croaked, eyes wide as he kept his eyes on Eddie’s from under his lashes. Eddie’s smile is gleaming, and Eddie hummed quietly as he nodded himself.

“Absolutely anything, sweet thing.”

Steve Harrington knows hair, and he knows that.

And he also knows that his friends completely like to tease him about it, well, it’s seems like except for Eddie. So Steve let himself smile and nod, and he reveled in the way that Eddie grinned- a quick flash of teeth as he pinched a little firmer at the meat of Steve’s chin, before he let go.

“Atta boy.”

just a little sacrifice to the tumblr readmore gods

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington is not stupid #eddie munson lives #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington #(eventually)#this is getting fleshed out and posted onto ao3 y’all don’t even worry bout it #background ronance #like if you squint your eyes and tilt your head and don’t have your contacts in so everyone looks like everyone #eddie munson’s love language is acts of service #so is steve’s #i wrote this in an hour can you tell

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year

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TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “A lover? Maybe. Something tender, anyway. But tender like a bruise.” — ‘The Winner’s Kiss’, Marie Rutkoski

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. swearing, mention of blood + death, mildly suggestive

summary. its late at night when you get a knock at your window. first, its a familiar mask, then a really, really familiar face. (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n. i honestly just wanted an excuse to write about patching up this lovable dork. this is also the weirdest crossover ive ever made but hey! if the shoe fits, the shoe fits (ethan landry is 110% spiderman nerd coded). an early warning: this is sooo all over the place. i fr do not know where this is going or if i should make a part 2

You’re staring at your monitor, half-asleep and half-wishing your econ class got a bomb threat so you didn’t have to get assigned homework, when you hear a knock at your window.

It was four-am on a Thursday in the middle of March, so you were expecting a knock. It was probably Quinn, or maybe even Tara, knocking on your window to get into the flat because they lost their keys somewhere at the frat party and didn’t want to alarm Sam.

Having the room with the fire-escape window was a blessing and a curse. For one, the view was beautiful, and you could sneak out without any of your roommates knowing. On the other hand, however, any stranded friends of yours snuck back in through your window.

Well, whatever. You slammed your laptop shut on your desk, and walked to your window. In the journey, however, you paused.

The crime rate in New York had gone up terribly recently, and you had remembered that case just a few weeks ago about a man who broke in through a fire escape window…

You weighed your options: open the window, oh it’s just Annika, shoo her out of your room, continue Econ homework. Open the window, oh it’s a murderer! Die, don’t finish Econ homework.

You opened the window.

Then: “Spiderman?!” You all but screamed, taking a hesitant step back.

It was Spiderman, the guy in the spiderman suit, New York’s “friendly neighborhood Spiderman”, the hero who fought crime in Brooklynn and swung around Times Square, that Spiderman.

And he was here. On your fire escape, awkwardly shuffling (which reminded you of a certain dork who was at that Halloween frat party right about now), hands behind his back.

“Spiderman? What the— fuck, are you—?” You repeated, and you could practically hear his stumbling thoughts as he gestured incoherently to himself, arms flailing about.

“Hi?” He settled on, then groaned, lifting himself into your bedroom. You took another step back, tentatively eyeing the little league baseball bat you had in the corner of your bedroom, a keepsake from home.

Once more, the thoughts of those recent window-entry break-ins flashed in your head, and even though it was Spiderman, what if it wasn’t? What if it was just some weirdo freak in the costume, about to use your trust of the hero to their advantage?

Spiderman, solemnly, seemed to notice this hesitation in you. “I’m not— I’m not going to hurt you, I just…” Spiderman sighed, and then all at once and far too fast, he pulled his mask clean off.

Suddenly, a familiar head of curls were splayed out on an equally as familiar brown-eyed face.

“Landry?” You said in the same tone as before, except this time it was Ethan Landry, Quinn’s awkward, younger-by-3-minutes brother, who ended up rooming with Chad, your own friend from highschool, after Quinn moved in with you.

Your only conversation had been nods in Econ, handing him a drink at a party, asking if he’d seen Quinn, him asking if you’d seen Chad, and now… whatever this was.

“This” was Ethan Landry in the Spiderman suit — because he was Spiderman(!!!!), the biggest mind-fuck you’d had since you found out Sam’s bio-dad was a weirdo murdering loser rotting in jail with his oddly homoerotic, equally as murderous, bestfriend — politely closing your window and dusting himself off so as to not get your room dirty.

This was not the shock you were hoping for right before midterms.

Then, you saw how pale-faced and sweaty Landry was, a red-and-blue gloved hand pressed against his abdomen, slowly hunching further.

“Sorry— I,” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out between his teeth, “I got cut, and I— your apartment was closer than Chad and I’s place, and I also couldn’t go there, because I lost my keys while I was swinging—“

“Hold on— Landry! Back up a moment!” You protested, interrupting his anxious rambling. “Let’s get you patched up first, okay? I won’t accept any of your answers until then.”

Quickly, you wrapped an arm around him, helping him limp over to your small, crowded apartment bathroom.

You situated the 6'0 giant you’d only referred to as “Landry” for the better half of the past six months onto the toilet, then rummaged through your bathroom closet, searching for the first-aid kit Quinn had used on her latest hook-up just last week after he bonked his head on her bed frame.

(That was hilarious and disgusting, having to sew stitches onto one of her hookups while she wore a police costume and him a bright prison suit. You were not going to pry, but crudely speaking, it was a shock to find out Quinn was… kinky.)

When you finally got it, you turned, having expected Landry to have pulled the top half of his suit off. Instead, he sat, head leaning against the tiled bathroom walls, cloaked hand still pressed firm against his wound.

“That thing’s got a zipper on it, doesn’t it?�� You said, taking a peek at the backside of Landry’s suit.

He nodded.

“So?” You said, expectantly placing your hands on your hips. But Landry stayed still, as if something was holding him back.

“By gods, Landry, are you embarrassed?” You said, aghast. By the looks of his increasingly red face, you were right.

Extremely affronted at his ill-timed shyness, you swiftly found the zipper to his Spiderman suit and helped the boy peel off the top half.

“Jesus, Ethan, you’re practically bleeding to death. Stop being so shy, I can handle you of all people.” You whispered to him as you did so, and he let out a shaky breath.

(Not because of the wound, but rather how close you were, his real name on your whispering lips as you almost graced the side of his face, your hands undressing him. He felt like he was on fire.

Fuck, Ethan thought, then, immediately after, shook himself mentally of such thoughts.)

Then, with several beads of sweat dripping from Ethan’s forehead, a low groan coming from him, you saw just how bad his wound was.

It was a messy, leaking gash on the left of his lower stomach, blood staining his thin skin. Landry seemed entirely focussed on the pain, eyes squinted and body wincing with every labored breath.

So, you moved swiftly, opening up your bottle of rubbing alcohol and throwing the cap behind you, informing Ethan it was going to “hurt like the time Sam punched you square in the nose because she thought you were hooking up with Tara” (to be fair, that did hurt a lot — Ethan cried a little, after it, and you had to silently hand him tissues) before dousing his wound in the solution.

Ethan’s back immediately arched in pain, head thrown back, and you could hear him bite back a soft whimper. His now-bare hands grabbed at the closest thing he could — your sweater sleeve, which was apparently at the perfect height for his incredibly lanky, though shockingly well-built, arms to hold — squeezing down in pain.

“I’m sorry, truly,” you whispered, on your knees in front of him, as he was far too tall to perform this stitching up without doing so.

(You continued by knotting your needle and thread, ignoring the odd predicament you had found yourself in, on your knees in a cramped bathroom, so close you could feel Ethan’s warm breath on your neck. You swallowed, head fuzzy, then blinked rapidly, trying to get your thoughts back on track.)

If that had bothered him, you were more than worried at how he’d react to your poor stitching ability. You’d only ever fixed up a hole in your shirt, so any sewing knowledge you knew, you were going to apply to Ethan’s skin now.

“I’m gonna stitch it up now, okay?” You said, in a soft, dulcet tone, considering the pain he was going through.

Ethan nodded vehemently, probably more so interested in getting it all over with.

You made quick work of the operation, sewing his skin together, back and forth, back and forth. Your concentration drowned out any and all of your thoughts, except for a stuttered keen or bitten curse word from Ethan every now and then, that effectively shattered the mental wall you’d been building.

Finally, you unraveled the white roll of bandages sitting on the counter, and wrapped a thick dressing around his abdomen, crossing over his left shoulder to give it some stability.

(Your elbows had been propped up on either side of Ethan’s thighs, and you were so carefully focussed on wrapping his gash correctly that you hadn’t realized how close you were to his… well, him.

Ethan had, however, and gulped at how suggestive his view was, looking down and just seeing the crown of your head over his lap. So Ethan looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately focussed on keeping something down.)

Finally, you finished, rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, and looked up at Ethan, who was leaning back, head on the wall. Your cheeks dusted pink, seeing how he stared at you through his long, brown lashes, slowly blinking, lips parted.

You coughed, looking away from the boy, and got up. “You okay to stand?”

Ethan blinked, then nodded, heaving himself up from the toilet seat. He limped across the hall to your bedroom, then sat on the chair sitting by your desk.

“You should sleep here tonight. I don’t think your sister will ever forgive me if I let you go to bed alone with a knife-wound.” You flashed him a smile. “But first: what the hell was that?”

Ethan bit his lip. “Surprise?”

You gave Ethan a look, settling on your bed across from him. “I thought you were at that halloween party, with Chad and Quinn?”

“Okay, fine. I was at that party, but I… kinda sort of stole a police’s walkie talkie, like, two years ago and I’ve been using it since to hear about any crime going on. There was a 10-31 — an active burglary,” he said, noting your confused face, “at a local bodega, so I told everyone I was going home, and left. They’d run into an alley by the time I got there, so I followed them, and things got a little… messy.”

You nodded, following the story carefully. “And when did… all of this start?” You gestured to him in the half done up Spiderman suit.

“Well,” Ethan averted your gaze, “When I was seventeen, I went with my dad to a crime scene during a stupid Bring-Your-Kid-to-work-day activity. The place was a real hole-in-the-wall illegal animal testing lab, and I was being dumb, touching things I shouldn’t have, geeking out over whatever latest smuggled in Oscorp tech they had blown up, when a spider bit me in the neck. After peeking through the case files, I found out it was a radioactive spider. The next few days after that I got sick, then got better, and one day after that I woke up and I could do crazy shit like climb my bedroom walls.”

You blinked, digesting the large threshold of information. Just as you were about to ask another question, Ethan let out a large, teary eyed yawn.

All at once he seemed so much more tired than you thought he’d been, all the pain he’d experienced showing clearly on his delicate features.

Your brows knit together. “…Okay, I think it's time you change out of those clothes, I order food, then you go to bed.”

Ethan agreed numbly, hunching over on the chair he was sitting on. Quickly, you began digging through your closet for clothes that might fit his muscular frame — a feature that surprised you as much as finding out he was Spiderman, considering you thought him to be a skinny and lanky tree.

After a moment, you pulled out two pieces. “It’s all I had that would fit you,” you said quietly, handing him a pair of pink Hello-Kitty pajama pants you bought in the wrong size, and a “I Survived My Trip To NYC” shirt Mindy gave you back in highschool. “Sorry.”

“No, I—“ Ethan fumbled awkwardly, taking the clothes from you, ears tinged red, “thanks. For everything.” He settled on, looking from his hands to your face.

You peered up at him, analyzing the boy-hero. His deep brown eyes, the freckles that danced across his cheeks, how his lips pursed, watching you look at him.

The air between the both of you had suddenly turned static, and you were so much more aware of how flush you were against one another.

Ethan’s gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips, trailing across your face almost unbearably slow.

But then you blinked, sobered, and stepped away from him. “I’m— gonna,” you caught your breath, “I’ll let you change.”

You quickly exited, leaving Ethan in the room alone.

(Ethan’s face burned, terribly red while he felt feverish just by the slight touch of your fingers on his own. How you had stared at him, your eyes coursing over his entire being—

There had been something there, but Ethan could not find it in himself to pry.)

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #spiderman crossover #jack champion x reader #scream imagine #spiderman!ethan landry

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shiftingdiariesofophelia · 7 months

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i spend so much energy trying to make/find fun creative things to add to my scripts and i’m not gonna gatekeep, so here’s some of the funniest/weirdest/lowkey best things i’ve added to any of my scripts (that I haven’t talked much about before):

-I can always find things I need.

-Santa is real

-People just??? trust me??? I could genuinely tell someone that world war two was between the australians and canadians and they’d just be like yeah that checks out

-I don’t have allergies bc i hate sneezing

-Every pair of shoes I own are comfy as hell

-My hair can’t get knotted/tangled

-no periods because f that for real

-I always win/I’m naturally good at card and board games.

-Babies/Animals like me and will stop crying/whining/etc. when i’m around.

-cigarettes taste good and aren’t bad for you. i wanna be lana del rey coded so bad i guess

-i will literally never be in a situation where i have to kill someone. (useful for more dangerous drs!!!)

-random beef with the funniest character imaginable. hp dr? me and susan bones are arch enemies. fame dr? me and pete davidson indirect tweet each other all the time complaining. avengers dr? me and the ancient one are fist fighting in the mirror dimension idc

-indestructible things. i am clumsy and stupid i need this in every dr.

-pages don’t rip out of notebooks on accident (this has been the bane of my existence since 9 years old)

-I always have a hair tie when i need one. because you think you won’t need one, and then the second you don’t have it, you need it.

-people don’t smell. lifesaver.

-*random character* knows i shifted but can’t do a goddamn thing about it/doesn’t care and just goes with it. my favorite examples are Shane Dawson (fame dr) and Professor Trelawny (HP dr)

-i can’t get hurt in stupid ways (stubbing toe, tripping, etc.)

-if someone tries to shoot me the gun will literally fly out of their hand lmao (again, useful for dangerous drs)

-i know everyone’s phone passwords

-infinite toilet paper (for dystopia/woods/etc. drs, but could just be useful every day tbh.)

-i’ve always got some kind of out of pocket one liner for when the situation is too awkward

-tattoos don’t hurt (i am a pussy)

-adding random side characters/completely new mfers to my scripts because if i’m constantly around these fine ass bitches i know everything about i might actually have a heart attack

-when someone’s mean to me they get some form of karma in the next 24 hours directly related to how mean they were. call me stupid? enjoy tripping up the stairs. push me over? i hope you enjoy biting into a sandwich only to find the bread is moldy.

there’s probably more but this is just a short list of the first ones i could think of

#shifting #reality shifting #shifttok #shiftblr #desired reality #ophie speaks #current reality #hp shifting #harry potter dr #shut up ophie

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vroom-vrooms · 18 days

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Part 2 of f1 drivers and their weird relationships with each other

Yeah I’m sorry, so…

-but Seb had a weird thing with Charles, because Seb was a big thing and Charles has daddy issues, and Charles also has always had a thing with Pierre because they are childhood best friends and everyone falls in love with Charles, but then Pierre developed a weird relationship with Yuki, who was literally sitting on his lap and talking about being like girlfriend and boyfriend on videos when they were teammates, but now Pierre has a weird toxic thing with Esteban, because they have always kinda hated each other but now they’re teammates so forced proximity, and Pierre also could’ve had a thing with Max, because I think Max is incapable of not falling a little bit in love with his teammates, and then Max also maybe had a weird toxic thing with Esteban, since they’ve also never liked each other and at one point max kinda wanted to choke him, but Esteban has always kinda had a thing with Lance, since they’ve always been very good friends, but then Lance would literally fall to his knees for Fernando, because he has daddy issues, or Seb, because he has daddy issues, and Seb maybe had a thing with Nico H when they were younger, because they’ve known each other for a long time, and Nico H and Kevin definitely slept together at least once, since Kevin literally told him to suck his balls on live television, and Nico H also might’ve had a thing with Daniel, when they were teammates at Renault, and Daniel had a weird night with Charles, since they went to Vegas together in 2019 and refuse to tell us what happened, and Daniel could’ve had a thing with Lando, cause they have a similar vibe and were teammates at mclaren, and Lando has a cute little thing with Max, because they’re very close, and Max also has a thing for Martin Garrix, cause they’ve been friends for a long time and look at each other like they want to get married, and then Max introduced Martin to Lando and now Lando and Martin look at each other like they want to get married, Daniel is in that mess too, and Lando also has a thing with the other Max, Max F, who has been his close friend for years and who lived with him for a long time, guess who also lived together when they were in f3, Niki and James, who probably had the weirdest thing going on…

#posting this like way too close to the other one cause I missed so many and bro I could keep going #formula one #max verstappen #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton #Pierre Gasly #and whoever else idk #Yukierre #piarles #and the rest lol

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fanficriter · 9 months

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Dating the BNHA Boys!

Warnings - None

Characters - Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Tamaki Amajiki

Notes - Isn’t my best work but oh well :3

Gender Neutral Reader

——————————————————————————

Izuku Midoriya

- Silly lil guy

- Took him a LOT of courage to confess to you

- Just kinda stood there dumbfounded when you reciprocated his feelings

- Poor boy is lowkey insecure

- He’s silently insecure about his scars :(

- If you kissed his scars i think he’d go insane

- Will probably cry

- He has little notes about how pretty you are in his quirk journal thingy

- Will go in rants about how amazing you are to his friends

- “Y/N is just so perfect and i love them and i don’t know what id do with out them they’re always there for me and-“

- If you have long hair, he always keeps a pack of hair ties incase you need them 😭

- When you tell him about something you like, he will write it down so he remembers

- Was soooo nervous when he first held your hand

- He was SWEATING

- Always blushes without fail

- His hand are rough, but also rlly soft? (i need to make hand hcs holy shit)

- Doesn’t really like sparring with you bc he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he will if you rlly want to

- He will train together tho!

- He loves giving you tips, and watching you use your quirk

- Likes setting up little picnics with you bc he’s quite literally the perfect man ever

- He is a CUDDLIER

- Absolutely loves cuddling with you

- Loves it when you face him and dig your face into his neck

- Definitely talks in his sleep

- He loves taking you on dates to a bunch of different restaurants and such

- Gets so nervous when kissing you

- He loves it but he gets flustered way to easy

Katsuki Bakugou

- Malewife fr

- Will cook for you, though he acts like it’s a chore, he loves your reaction to all his different meals

- Deaf bakugou hc is my favourite thing ever i’m sorry

- He can still hear, (kind of) but he needs to wear a hearing aid

- He knows sign language, but really only uses it around his mom bc he’s embarrassed😭

- If you know sign language, you’ll win his heart IMMEDIATELY

- You were definitely the one to confess first

- Actually rejected you at first (he still liked you at the time)

- But after a few weeks, he confessed to you

- “I actually feel the same way or whatever… just didn’t wanna feed your ego to much…”

- Knows how to style hair weirdly well

- Will always make excuses to do your hair

- “Oi, c’mere, your hair looks like shit.”

- He’ll never admit it, but he LOVES head scratches

- Will lay on your thighs without warning, expecting you to scratch his scalp

- Sparring together is a MUST

- Don’t expect him to go easy on you

- Isn’t to big on PDA, but he’ll kiss you in private all you want

- The first few times you guys held hands, he was kinda scared that he would accidentally explode you 💀

- Doesn’t really take you out for dates a lot, it’s usually just movies and popcorn in bed

- But on the rare occasion when he DOES take you on a date, it is at the fanciest restaurants known to mankind

- Or hiking, he likes hiking

- It took a while for him to be comfortable with cuddling, but he loves spooning you, or holding you as you bury your face into his chest

Shoto Todoroki

- Confessed to you pretty soon after he realised his feelings

- Straight to the point

- “I’ve recently developed feelings for you.”

- Has a small smile when you said you liked him back

- He stares at you a lot

- Loves admiring you

- Also gives the weirdest compliments?

- “You have a nice facial structure, it suits you”

- “Thank you??”

- Will pick flowers occasionally and give them to you

- Literally buys you everything

- With his Dads credit card (You have no idea)

- You see a pair of shoes you like? BOOM. They are yours in 0.5 seconds

- He just buys everything bro CALM DOWN

- Loves taking you on fancy dinner dates

- You have to meet his siblings btw

- Mainly bc his sister WOULD NOT SHUT UP AB MEETING YOU

- She loves you

- So much

- It’s actually a bit concerning

- Doesn’t necessarily not like PDA, he just doesn’t feel the need to initiate it

- He can be a bit oblivious, so if you want PDA, just tell him!

- He has no problem with it

- Not really a cuddly person, but he will cuddle you if you want!

- Your relationship is definitely based on a lot of communication 😭

- As time passes, he will start to do those things without you having to ask, he just needed to get used to it

Tamaki Amajiki

- oh my god okay

- He confessed first but it took him SOOOO long

- Needed so much encouragement from his friends

- Then he just blurted it out while he was at your house one time

- “I- I love you!!”

- Almost died when you said it back

- Actually saw god when you tried holding his hand the first time

- CANNOT do PDA i think he would die

- Definitely an act of service man, he is too shy to do anything else

- Can’t reach somthing ? he’s on it. Your bathroom need cleaning? Consider it done!

- Also likes making you random little gifts

- Kiss him on the cheek i dare you

- He will EXPLODE

- Your always helping him calm down in public

- “Y/N i wanna go home”

- Further into the relationship he will slowly get used to physical affection

- I don’t think he will ever not get flustered tho

- He loves taking you out too eat

- Really likes picnic dates

- I feel like he meditates often to try and clear his head (there is a lot going on in there 😭)

- Will always invite you to meditate with him

- He actually really likes cuddling with you

- He almost dies every time but

- Loves when you spoon him

- Also loves laying on your chest (or the other way around)

- Absolute chef in the kitchen

- Always cooking u meals

——————————————————————————

This took my life 3 weeks to write i kept putting it off so it’s not as detailed as i’d like it to be but oh well

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minty364 · 2 months

Text

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.”

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,”

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?”

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?”

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t.

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

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estrellami-1 · 9 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Just then Eddie walks in, raising his brows at the veritable mountain of food Steve and Eleven are putting together. “What’s all this?”

Steve smiles warmly at him. “Hey, Eds,” he says, which is certainly an experience. He’s spoken roughly twice with the guy—in his memory—but Steve’s three chapters—nay, three books ahead. Eddie is Frodo, about to embark on his first journey, and Steve is Bilbo, or even Gandalf: someone who’s done this all before, whose eyes carry the weight of worlds.

Speaking of, Steve’s eyes dim slightly the longer Eddie takes to answer, so he waves his fingers at Steve, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach when Steve’s smile brightens again. “So… what’s this?”

“Dinner,” Eleven answers. “We are making sandwiches.”

Eddie nods, because sure. Why not. “Okay.”

“How’s the song coming?” Steve asks, and the swoop returns, because not only is Steve asking, but he’s asking about Metallica, and Eddie’s gay, metal little heart can’t take it.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, grinning. “It’s so good, oh my god. I mean, it’s gonna take a bit to learn, but it’s gonna be the most metal solo I’ve ever done.”

Steve’s smile dims again. Probably because he’s remembering what happened last time, i.e., Eddie’s death. Eddie pushes down the queasy feeling.

“Eddie,” Eleven says.

“Yeah?”

She turns to face him. Her eyes are more serious than any twelve-year-old’s eyes have any right to be. “You will be okay,” she says. Then, apropos of nothing, “And I can move things with my mind.”

Eddie blinks at that. Apparently his face is doing something, because Steve chimes in. “She can.”

“I can show you,” she volunteers.

“Anything but the utensils,” Steve says in a distracted voice, like this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation. Eddie wants to laugh hysterically, or maybe cry. Smoking a joint seems like the best third option, except all his stuff is at home. Fuck.

Then she does, lifts a whole cutting board—complete with tomatoes— and moves it over to him. He resists the impulse to snatch a piece and eat it. He doesn’t even like tomatoes, what the fuck, brain.

Steve’s watching with an amused little smile, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind. That legitimately wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen today, so Eddie does his best to stop thinking about it, because he doesn’t think he can deal with more than one real-life superpower right now.

“I need that back, El,” Steve murmurs, and she grins at him before zipping it back over, stopping it just before it hits his face. He nods, brows raised, impressed. “Nice control. Put it down and go wipe your nose, please.”

She does, Steve watching her as she goes, fond little grin on his face. “She’s a good kid.”

“She can move things with her mind.”

“Yeah. Honestly, that’s one of the easier things to get used to. Y’know one of the craziest things, to me?”

“Do I want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

Steve just grins at him. “Jonathan Byers has this baseball bat that he sticks a bunch of nails in.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What the actual fuck.”

Steve nods. “I took it, sometime back during the first year. Actually,” he thinks about it, “what month are we in?”

“Um. October.”

Steve winces. “Great. October…”

“Um. Twenty-fourth.”

Steve hums and thinks. “In about… less than a week, actually, I think—I don’t really know, the concussion messed up my days—oh, hey!” He suddenly says excitedly, then raises his voice. “Rob!”

Robin pops her head in a moment later. “What’s up?”

He grins at her. “No concussions!”

She stares. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Holy shit!” She says. “No concussions!”

“No memory loss!”

“No hearing loss!”

“No eyesight problems!”

She freezes. “Steve. You were having vision issues?”

“Um. Not anymore?”

She groans. “Since when?”

“Um…” he thinks, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Billy, I think. At least that’s the first time I really noticed it.”

She sighs. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Are not.”

“In cold blood.”

“Are not.”

“Nancy’ll help.”

Steve considers this. “She might. She’d be good at it.”

They both pause for a moment, then Robin turns to leave. “I’m gonna go make sure Jon doesn’t give you a concussion this time.”

“Have him make the nail bat, too!” Steve calls as she leaves.

“What,” Eddie says desperately, “the fuck.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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#stranger things #if I should stay #pre steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #el hopper #Robin Buckley #platonic stobin #steve and el #el just wants to help #Eddie’s doing his best not to freak out every other second #he’s trying yall #starambles

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hellfirexhoe · 2 years

Text

Tuesdays? | Eddie Munson x Bitchy Reader

summary: sort of prequel to Wednesdays, Eddie and reader are enemies who like to ruin each other on Wednesday nights, and this is how that situation first started happening (reader and Eddie are both over 18)

3,000+ words

warnings: horndog content so 18+ only please - MINORS DNI, lots of swearing, name calling, degradation, enemies to lovers fuck buddies, rough sex, p in v, protected sex, oral (m receiving), bad writing, skipped meals, little bit of gross eddie, pervy eddie, bitchy reader, v. brief dubcon, harassment, female reader

Series Masterlist

You push your lunch away in disgust as you accidentally look over at Eddie Munson’s table, he’s talking animatedly with his friends, mouth full and spraying food everywhere, his friends are laughing at whatever he’s saying, almost deafeningly loud. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone else in the lunch room, but for you messy eating is a cardinal sin, it makes you feel physically sick. Deciding your appetite probably won’t return your bus your tray, apologize to your friends and head to the library. The rest of the hour passes without interruption and you’re in better spirits as you head to Spanish, nibbling on an energy bar. It’s the only class you have with Eddie, this year’s schedule had been kinder to you than last, last year you were in a majority of classes with him and for the first week or so you’d found him funny, charming even, but the obnoxious behavior and constant tapping on the table had soured you to him pretty badly.

Your usual desk buddy was out sick so you had the entire desk to yourself, until Eddie walked in and plopped down next to you, lunch still around his mouth. Great. You gritted your teeth and turned your whole body away, determined to block out the boy next to you, it was only an hour and then you would be on your way to an Eddie-free gym class, followed by an equally Eddie-free car ride home, to your Eddie-free house. This became a mantra in your head as the lesson started.

Eddie’s class clown routine started about 5 minutes in and by 15 minutes you were contemplating faking cramps to get out of the classroom. By some miracle you manage to stave off the urge to stab him with your pen and focus on the lesson, when the bell finally rings you unclench your jaw, gather your books and flee the room before Eddie has even stopped tapping on the desk. Chrissy is waiting for you outside and laughs at your strained expression,

“Why do you let him bother you so much? He sits way at the back, miles from you. Just ignore him.”

You shake your head, “Marsha’s out today, so he decided he’d keep me company. Fucking insufferable I tell you.”

“Maybe you need to buy some goodies from his lunch box and you’ll be able to tolerate him more.” Chrissy jokes as you groan,

“I’m not buying drugs from the town freak Chrissy, I have better plugs than that.”

“You know I heard the weirdest thing the other day,” You look at her, “Apparently the freak thing extends to the bedroom, like he’s into some kinky shit.”

“Absolutely no fucking way Chrissy. That boy is as much of a virgin as the day he was born, doubt he’d even know where to put it.”

Chrissy shakes her head “Nope, from what I’ve heard its big and he knows how to use it.” She’s whispering loudly to you, eyes flitting around to make sure no one’s listening as you walk the corridor.

“Chrissy Cunningham. Are you really trying to tell me that Eddie Munson has a huge dick?” As you speak your left shoulder is pushed by someone, your heart sinks when you realize it is a beet-red Eddie storming past you both. “Shit. Well now I feel like a total bitch.” Chrissy cringes with you and you carry on to your gym. The lesson passes quickly and the final bell rings out, announcing your freedom.

You and Chrissy link arms as you step out into the parking lot, letting each other go with over the top waves and reaching for each other. She reaches her car first, and doesn’t notice what you do when you look over at your car. Shit. Eddie’s leaning against your car, looking pissed, so he definitely heard us earlier then. You walk over, checking to see you have witnesses,

“H-hey Eddie.”

“Hey Eddie? That really all you have to say?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, “If either of you are so fucking curious about my dick that you want to be yelling about it in the corridor, please feel free to ask to see it.”

“I’m sorry we didn-”

“You didn’t know I could hear your whole conversation? So you’re not going to apologize for being a total bitch, just that I heard it? Nice. Real fuckin’ nice.” Eddie stalks off, simmering.

“Why the fuck are you so mad anyway? Not like we were yelling ‘Eddie Munson has a tiny dick’.” You call after him, taunting him, attracting a small audience. Eddie’s tall frame freezes and he rounds back on you, stepping so close you’re pressed up against your car, a wicked smile on his face as he whispers in your ear,

“Keep taunting me and you’ll find out how big it is when its down your throat.” You’re a little too stunned to come up with a snarky reply for that, and by the time you do Eddie is already across the lot, smile still on his face. You climb into your car and head home for that Eddie-free evening you had promised yourself. Except your mind wasn’t allowing you your reprieve, you kept thinking about Eddie’s words, twisted as they were.

You barely sleep that night and you curse Chrissy for the fact that you simply cannot stop wondering just how big Eddie Munson’s dick is. You were perfectly happy not thinking about that before today, if anyone had asked you to picture him naked you would have managed to imagine smooth hard plastic under his trousers, like a Ken doll, but now you’re wondering about his girth? I hate that girl. You huff as you read 3.14am on your clock.

Somewhere in the night you manage to fall asleep but it feels like minutes have passed when your alarm trills. You manage to drag yourself through the motions and pack on enough concealer to cover an entire cheer squad, hoping to disguise the bags under your eyes. After downing a scalding coffee you manage to perk yourself up enough to get to school safely. You get to Spanish and notice Marsha’s seat occupied by your new desk buddy, Eddie, who has his feet propped up on your side, you stare pointedly at them until he adjusts, tucking his feet under the desk.

“You look like you’ve slept terribly. Guilty conscience or could you not stop yourself from thinking about my dick?”

You don’t reply, which earns a snort from Eddie. “So the second one then. Like I said, if you’re curious just ask.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes.

Your brain is too tired to catch the next words before they escape your lips,

“Fine, let’s say I’m curious. Show me.”

Eddie looks at you wide-eyed, “Yeah, I’m not getting my dick out in a room which is like half full of minors.”

“Not now, you moron.”

“Also this isn’t show and fucking tell, nor is my dick my most treasured possession.” He pauses “Okay maybe only the first part of that is true.”

“You’re so disgusting.”

“Says the girl who just asked me to show her my dick to satisfy some kind of morbid curiosity. Besides, what am I getting in return? I’d hate to disappoint you or ruin my reputation as a freak but flashing you or anyone else for that matter isn’t top of my list of things to do on a Friday.”

You decide silence is your best option, your brain can’t adequately filter your words so you stay mute for the remainder of the day. Eddie, satisfied that he’s worked you up so much you can’t even speak, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his lips. Once the bell rings for the end of class Eddie is up before you, and as you stand to leave he turns around and makes an obscene gesture with his tongue at you, winks then disappears into the corridor. You become intimately familiar with the gesture throughout the day because you swear everywhere you look the metalhead is appearing from nowhere, performing.

“What is that about?” Chrissy asks after she notices Eddie’s performance,

“I asked to see his dick and now he’s harassing me I guess.”

“You did what??”

“I’m tired, my brain can’t filter.” Chrissy is creasing with laughter at you,

“Has it really been such a dry spell that you’re looking to Eddie?”

“No, its your damn fault anyway, I could have gone my whole life never wondering if Eddie Munson truly has a big dick.”

“Oh he does,” your friend Louise appears beside Chrissy and you roll your eyes,

“Fucking fantastic, where have you heard that from?”

As you walk you feel a hand slip past your ass and place something in your back pocket, Eddie walks past you quickly, making it obvious to you that it was him. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and duck into a stall, retrieving a scrap of paper from the pocket of your skirt, the scrawl is messy and barely readable but you make it out eventually, it’s an address and the words “tuesday 7pm wear your cheer uniform”.

Is he fucking with me right now? Does he really think I’m going to turn up at his trailer and worship his dick?

By the time Tuesday afternoon rolls around you estimate you have received about 17 sexual remarks from Eddie in words or gestures and are now planning on going to his trailer to yell at him for being an absolute pig, and possibly murder him. You’re not sure on the second objective, might be a bit too much work for a Tuesday, plus you’d need help to move the body and there would be all those questions.

At 6.45pm you’re getting in your car, decidedly not in your cheer uniform, because that was just too weird. The whole situation is weird, you’re driving to Eddie Munson’s trailer? That he invited you to? You pull up at 7.07pm, trying to exit your car as quietly as you can. Eddie must have heard you, or been watching at the window because he opens the door before you can knock, you step in and immediately poke him square in the chest with a pointed nail,

“What the fuck is your problem Munson?” You yell, “Quit the harassment, you’re being a fucking pervert.”

“You drove all the way out here to yell at me?” Eddie smirks, “You must really care.”

“That’s the thing, I really don’t, you’re just being an absolute pig and I’ve had enough!” You’re breathing hard and squaring your shoulders, you’re so angry with him that your hands are shaking. So Eddie’s next move of pushing you against the wall and kissing you completely throws you off guard, you grab a handful of his hair and pull forcing him to break the kiss.

“Okay. Fuck. OW. Might have misread the moment, my bad.”

“What in the fuck did you think that moment was?”

“I thought you were one of those girls who gets all horny when they’re angry. Evidently I was wrong.” He’s not wrong, you are exactly one of those girls but it’s Eddie. Gross, messy eater, desk tapping until you go insane, insufferable, rude Eddie.

“Fuck. Lets just get this over with.” You sigh as you start unbuttoning your skirt and shimmying it down your legs, Eddie is now truly bewildered,

“Get what over with? What is happening right now?”

“We’re going to fuck. We’re going to get this,” you gesture to the air around you both “out of our systems. And then I can go back to thinking you’re a disgusting pig, and you can go back to thinking I’m an uptight bitch. Sound good?”

Eddie shrugs and starts taking his shirt off, not taking his eyes off you undressing for a second, like his own personal strip tease. He smirks when he catches your jaw drop slightly at the size of his bulge. Chrissy and Louise’s intel had been correct.

“Wait. We need some ground rules,” you pause, both of you now in your underwear.

“O..kay,”

“No kissing when we get down to it.”

“Get down to it, christ you’re romantic.”

“No! That’s the point, this isn’t romance, this isn’t love, this isn’t even a fucked up friendship. This is just fucking because hormones and pheromones and all that other scienc-y crap.”

“Gotcha. Positions?”

“No missionary. Also no pet names, I’m fine with you degrading me but I don’t want none of that ‘princess’ mushyness. And you are definitely not going in me bareback.”

“Definitely not, wouldn’t want to catch whatever evil you have. Safe words?”

“You planning to get so pussy drunk I’d need a safe word to pull you out of it?”

“That’s the hope.”

“Red for stop, yellow for pause.” Eddie nods

“Bed?” You glance around the living room and nod, surely the bedroom would be a little more comfortable. Once you’re in his bedroom Eddie appears a little awkward,

“How do you want to, I mean uhh,” Eddie’s voice trails off,

“Guess I’m taking the lead tonight huh stud?” You drop to your knees and pull his boxers down, making him gasp at your forwardness. You spit in your hand and use it to pump along his length, smirking when you see his eyes roll back and his bottom lip captured by his teeth. You keep him in your hand as your tongue runs over his swollen head, lapping up the drops of precum that had formed, earning a deep primal moan from Eddie. You start to take the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking gently as you pump his length firmly, as he moans and his legs start to shake you suck harder, taking more of his length in your mouth, bobbing up and down and revelling in the noises escaping Eddie’s mouth. Ringed fingers begin to tangle in your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, you appreciate the somewhat chivalrous act and starting taking him deeper, lips down to the base and tip sliding down your throat

“Jesus H. Christ do you even have a gag reflex?” You shake your head, drawing back slightly only to suck him back in, earning a loud cry of pleasure from Eddie. He’s already beginning to sound so pathetic and needy. You pull back, releasing his cock from the vacuum of your mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and he almost collapses back onto his bed, panting, cock twitching as though it was searching to be back in your mouth again. While he’s temporarily stunned you unclasp your bra and drop your underwear to the floor, not paying any attention to where they fall as you climb onto the bed, pausing to grab a condom from the pack on his nightstand. You remember a trick you had learned at a sleepover and put the now unwrapped condom in your mouth, Eddie watches you curiously and then gasps as you use your mouth to sheathe his cock,

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

“You can thank Chrissy for that trick. Practiced on many a banana in the Cunningham kitchen.”

Your hovering above him, pussy just centimeters away from the tip of his cock, about to slide down when Eddie grabs you to stop you,

“I haven-haven’t warmed you up yet, that’s not very gentlemanly.”

You lean down to whisper in his ear “If I want you to be a gentleman, I’ll ask for it. Right now I want you to fuck me.” You grab his hand and place it against your clit and run it down to your soaked hole, “I’m sure I can take you, all those pathetic little mewls you did seem to have done the trick.” Eddie still insisted on sticking his fingers inside you, gathering up your wetness and using it to lube up his cock before sucking his fingers clean, as you slide down you whisper in his ear,

“Such a fucking pervert, licking me up like that.” Eddie’s cock throbs inside you and you moan, loving the pressure of him filling you up. His hands are on your hips, helping you to ride harder and faster until your bodies are slamming against each other, the headboard on the bed threatening to make a dent in the wall, you can see Eddie’s eyes becoming unfocused as he gets pussy drunk inside you,

“Eddie?”

“Hnhmh?”

“I fucking hate you.” His eyes snap back, razor sharp focus now trained on you as he starts slamming you down on his cock harder than before, his fingers dipping between you two to start rubbing your clit, “Do you hate this too, princess.” Eddie utters a forbidden word but in such a sneering way, so laced with venom that he might have just been calling you a cum dump.

You nod, breathing faster as you feel your orgasm building, “You’re bad at this.”

Eddie laughs “Tell that to your fucking pussy that’s trying to throttle me.” Your walls are contracting around him almost painfully tight as you get to the edge of your orgasm, Eddie keeps his pressure and pattern going and within seconds you’re ruined, legs shaking, back arching, crying and cursing as your orgasm wracks through your body. Eddie finishes shortly after you, pulling you down and holding you so tight you can barely breathe.

You slide off of Eddie and catch your breath while he takes the condom off and ties it before throwing it into the bin.

“We should do this again sometime. How do Tuesdays sound?”

You laugh breathlessly, “Wednesday nights work better for me.”

“You’re still an uptight bitch who has no awareness for the people around her.”

“And you’re still a fucking pervert.”

“In that case I’m keeping your panties as a trophy.”

“So disgusting.”

The next day your hips have finger shaped bruises all over them, your lips are swollen and you can hardly sit down without wincing. As you sit at your lunch table you catch Eddie smirking at you as your wince once your body makes contact with the unforgiving plastic. You glare at him and give him the middle finger. Chrissy catches this,

“Oh so it is definitely big.”

You give her a pained nod.

“Huge.”

#eddie munson #eddie fucking munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #munson-trashcan #days of the week fic #female reader #bitchy reader #eddie x bitchy!reader

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astraveritas · 1 year

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★ my scorpio sun/venus and 8h mars best friend has kevin mcallister like plan for revenge if her fiance ever cheats on her. when she told me this I was not surprised at all. I love my scorpio women but yall insane.

★ fire moons are loud as hell when it comes to showing emotions. when they find something funny best believe the whole neighborhood will know. their laugh can wake up the dead.

— two fire moons having a quiet chat

★ cancer sun people are extremely business savvy, very much like their opposite sign capricorn. they constantly show up on the top of the lists of the wealthiest people. after all cancer is exalted in jupiter, the planet of luck, abundance and risk-taking. basically that gif of woody harrelson drying his tears with money is peak cancer sun energy.

★ famous people from the sagittarius-gemini axis are messy as hell. no one brings more chaos, drama, confusion and madness into the entertainment industry that this pair. they said “let me entertain you” and took it to 11

★ visual representation of scorpio men with libra placements using their libra placements charm to be the perfect nice gentleman to lure you in just to switch up and unleash their scorpio craziness on you unprompted 10 seconds later

★ saggitarius rising people cannot sit still, they always end up in the weirdest places and have the craziest stories to tell, like how the hell did you even get in there? and they're always like “I have a friend, who have a friend, who have a uncle who knows this dude and that’s how I ended up in underground bunker sex rave” and by the time you finish comprehending that information they’re already gone.

★ virgo placements and their scary attention to details. nothing will slip past them, they will notice and they will point it out, no they won’t care if they hurt your feelings, do better.

— virgo placement staring at someone 20ft away and noticing a stain on their shoes.

★ “look what the cat dragged in” but the cat is pisces sun/mars woman who just introduced you to her boyfriend and he is the weirdest creature of a man you ever laid your eyes upon. people who talk about aquarius women and their strange taste in men, never met a pisces woman in their life. aquarius women will be into counterculture type of men whatever the counterculture may mean to her personally. but pisces women? they’re dating mad libs in form of men.

★ have yall noticed taurus placements and their sense of smell? their noses are so sensitive they could probably work as police dogs in airports. very similar to virgos in that area. no one sniffs their food more before they eat it than a taurus placement. you ask out loud “what’s that smell?” and a taurus placement be like “i’m sensing basil with a pinch of black mustard seed” and they end up being right every time. they also love for their home to smell nice, always opening the windows to let the fresh air in and lighting scented candles.

— taurus placement after buying every scented candle, perfume, aromatic bath salt, lotion and air freshener they found on sale.

★ people with mars-mercury conjunction/trine in fire sign are blunt. they will say what everyone is thinking out loud and drag everything unsaid into the surface and force people to confront it.

★ watching people with libra sun/mars in a discussion with someone they don’t agree with is hilarious. you can see in their eyes that they do not fuck with this person and their opinions and yet there’s still this polite smile on their face, but something behind their eyes says “murder”.

#astro notes #astrology notes #astro observations #astrology observations #*

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