#boombox week

[blastedking]

Hunting wizards for sport vengeance.

#gloryhammer #universelawoffire #gloryhammerfanart #angus mcfife #robot prince of auchtertool #ownstuff #angus mcfife II #Drew this today - first thing after 4 weeks of tendonitis nonsesnse #shanked a 0815 Zargothrax in the queue for this xD #BoomBox is slowly developing dark souls neck syndrom - and i like it

[munsonfamilyband]

So I’m aware it’s no longer Valentine’s day but enough people liked part one so here’s part 2 of my Valentine’s Post

———————————————

The past couple days had not been fun for Steve. It started on the 12th when Eddie went on a tirade about how much he hated Valentine’s day and wouldn’t ever celebrate it. Steve knew his crush was hopeless already but that was just painful to hear, especially knowing that Eddie didn’t even know it was Steve’s birthday.

When Eddie had left to go help Nancy plan her date with Robin, he had dropped his head onto the counter with a groan.

“It might have been easier if he said he didn’t like me at all.” Robin rubbed his back gently.

“I know. How does he not know it’s your birthday though? Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday usually. I mean, most of the kids don’t even know when it is, but I was going to tell him on the actual day, maybe guilt him into hanging out with me and I could pretend it was a date.”

“Dingus, Steve, platonic love of my life, that is sad.” Steve just groaned again and Robin moved away from him to get back to stocking the shelves like she had been. “At some point you need to just tell him how you feel.”

“Thanks but no thanks, I’m okay existing in ignorance.”

“Steve.” He sat up and turned to her, crossing his arms.

“Robin. You know why I don’t want to take the chance.”

She sighed, looking at the case in her hand briefly before turning to him again. “I know, and as unrealistic as it is, I do wish that the conversation you and Nancy had fixed your insecurities so you could be happy. But I know there are other insecurities there, I just wish you could get something good for yourself.” He gave her a small smile, but he knew she could see how fake it was.

Now, two days later, they were back in Family Video. Robin had insisted that she had to sleep over the night before because it was his birthday and she had woken him up with (thankfully) store bought cinnamon buns and coffee. She had also thrown glitter over him as soon as he was dressed for work, telling him that it was to set the mood for the day.

He hated it then, he still hates it now as he bends over to pick up a tape and glitter falls out of his hair even hours later. It was just after the lunch rush had ended and Steve was dreading the dinner rush, especially since it meant a hoard of boyfriends coming to get last minute movies for Valentine’s day. He just wanted to curl up on his couch with ice cream and the bottle of wine he bought himself.

Robin had been weird all day too. First it was picking out his outfit, including his so-called “ass jeans”, then it was the glitter, then she had been playing the weirdest romcoms in the store. She had somehow been slipping little origami hearts into his pockets all day without him noticing. Things really got weird when he reached into his pocket and found something that wasn’t a little paper heart - it was more solid and felt metallic. Taking it out, he found a Hersey kiss and a note taped to it.

“Rob, I know you feel bad about me not having a date but you don’t need to sneak me chocolate.” He looked over at her for her response and immediately clocked her scheming face. “Robin. What are you doing?”

“Nothing! Just read the little note! I was paid handsomely for that so you better open it.” He just rolled his eyes and looked back at the chocolate. Deciding that he might as well, he opened the note and read it.

“Sweetheart, normally you get spankings but I figured a birthday kiss was a better way to start <3”

“Robin, why the fuck did you give me this?!”

“I’m not super happy about being roped into this, I promise, but I was paid for my time. Just wait, there’s more to come apparently.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Much to his disappointment, Robin refused to say anything more. And she stayed that way for the rest of their shift, including up to the moment they parted ways so she could get into Nancy’s waiting car.

He ended up forgetting all about it when he opened his wine and started in on the ice cream, until he heard muffled music from the backyard. Climbing out of his blanket nest with a frown he worked his way over to the back door and saw Eddie standing there with a boombox raised above his head. He was looking up at Steve’s bedroom window, and he had Madonna, of all things, blasting through the speakers.

“What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” Clearly Eddie hadn’t heard him open the sliding doors and he jumped, nearly dropping the boombox.

“Steve! How did you-were you not upstairs?”

“No, I was watching a movie on the couch. Still not answering the question though.” Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to look Eddie over. For once his jeans weren’t ripped and he had a plain t shirt on under his jacket. He looked more put together than usual but Steve couldn’t figure out why.

“Shit, uh, that sort of changes my plans but I can work with this. No tower serenade, that’s fine-“

“Sorry, serenade? What is going on, Eddie?” Eddie just sighed in response before seeming to steel himself.

“I fucked up, badly, the other day. I got wrapped up in my own opinions and I didn’t even consider how you felt about Valentine’s day - let alone that it was apparently your birthday. Nancy was actually the one to let me in on it, she asked what I was planning. And uh, well, I got her to help me plan this whole thing, but I was kind of hoping that you would be in your room so that you couldn’t see how terrified I am-“

“Wait, Eddie, I’m confused, why-“ Eddie just held a hand up to stop Steve before continuing to speak.

“I was going to give you this whole speech about how I’ve been in love with you for months now but I’ve been way too scared to say anything and even though I seriously messed up, at least it gave me a kick in the ass, so uh-“

“Wait.” Steve had to stop him there, because he was getting the picture but he needed to do a couple things first.

The first thing was rushing forward, grabbing Eddie’s face in his hands and kissing him right on the mouth.

The second, while Eddie was still shocked from the kiss was to say, “hold that thought. I’m going to run up to my room and we can try again.” Grinning like an idiot, Steve ran back into his house and up the stairs. He had never been serenaded before but he was excited to try it.

Taglist

@nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @nelotegreitic @liketheocean @darkwitchoferie @4nemo1egend @scarletyeager @the-redthread @thev01dd

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #and here it is almost a week late but I thought it was cute #i just see eddie as a ”pebbles at the window after dark” boyfriend so a boombox serenade felt on brand

[jfouler]

📢IMPORTANT POSTE..

MEOWDY. think i'm gonna full-blown hiatus mydudes! writing on tumblr does not spark joy and it's been more of a stressor than anything else for the past like... few months, despite my trial and effort lmao

i love jamie more than anything, he is my little guy. just, my other ways of spending my time give me much more joy than tumblr rp does. 💔

i'm 100% still for chatting and rping on discord, i just cannot tumblr because of our toxic divorce relationship AHDJDJDJS

i'll probably be back eventually. i always come back 😏

#been rattling this back and forth in my brain for weeks and i think i gotta just DO it. #[rolls out on my skateboard while diary of jane plays on my boombox] #✖ ooc.

[rainyyday-box]

hey guys sorry I've been dead somehow the app disappeared from my computer and it just reappeared today lol

in other news turns out the whole "looking for crabs" thing was just a ruse for my surprise birthday party which was really sweet and surprisingly smart for shurifin

#Got some hella cake too #I love you cozy pls never stop cooking #Rainposting #Rainbox phighting #Phighting! #Boombox phighting #//is this my excuse for not answering anything for a week #//yes/silly

[daily-phighting-reblogs]

Hello Moth for Reasons may I know your favourite Phighting Character (/or your fav skin either works)

I LOVE YOU RAINBOX I mean uhm ermmm I guess,,, I like uhm shurilóng,,

#/silly #I love ALL boombox skins :] #however my favorite favorite is rainbox (I love you rainbox/silly) #Also I love shurilóng and I really like shurifin too #AND VALLEYSTAFF YOU GUYS OMG VALLEYSTAFF I LOVE HER #rainsplash my beloved also obviously <3/silly #Ermmmmm yeah I like. I like a lot of skins AKDMLFKFLDK #If I had to choose like. A top five I'd say it's uhhhh #Rainbox; shurilóng; follower sword; buster rocket; marshword; anddd a tie between shurilóng and valley #Cozyshot snowboard and egobwoarder are like really close up there too tho ajdkfklflxw #I'm probably forgetting someone sobs #Butberm OH YEAH CHARACTERS #For characters it's uhhh #Rgb trio (no particular favorites it changes every week/silly); shuriken; a tie between subspace vinestaff and medkit(? He goes up and down #the list a LOT akdngkkg); then sword and rocket (another tie but also the last two tiers are kinda fluid so fjgjfjdjdh) #Erm yeah enough yapping methinks/silly #Posts

[davemustaine]

killing is my business and bonded by blood are still my top 2 favorite albums honestly nothing really beats them

#like i always come back to them and im like. yeah #i havea tape thats just the original kimb + last rites demo on one side and bonded by blood demos on the other and ive listened to it #NON STOP the past couple weeks. if my boombox could show scrobblesyou guys would be like this dude is fucking crazy #woof

[godblooded]

do you ever realize how funny living in gotham must b—

looks at madison square garden as i drive by

……..yes. oh my god. yes.

#ooc. mikkelsen vc: this week on kat valentine's hannibal. #[the fucking fact that I just watched him drive the bat cycle down the fdr is so funny because the implication is that…. I could run into #Batman on the way to pick shit up from my plug uptown. also it means the penthouse must be uptown? which makes sense. uptown’s outskirts are #old as hell. it would make sense for the Wayne architecture to be sequestered away from everything a little. kind of sectioned off on its #own. and the upper 200s have beautiful structures. I’m sorry. can we go back to the fact that I could run into the Batman while picking up #FROM MY CONENCT??? IMAGINE BEING A GOTHAMITE LIVING UPTOWN. YOURE LIVING YOUR FUCKING LIFE OUT ON THE FIRE ESCAPE OPENING THE WINDOW TO LET #THE BREEZE IN AND SHDDENLY A HORRIFIC ROAR BLASTS BY YOU. BATMAN’S GOING WHERE THE FUCK EVER AGAIN. A BUNCH OF OLD DUDES CHEET WHILE DANCING #TO BACIATA ON THE SIDEWALK AS IT BLARES FROM A BOOMBOX AT 3 AM. #THEYRE HOWLING AT THE BATMAN AS HE BEEPS HIS HORN JUST ONCE. A BHAD BUNNY SONG BEGINS.]

[boomboxfic]

Chapters: 1/4

Fandom: Law & Order

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mike Logan/Ben Stone Characters: Mike Logan, Ben Stone, Claire Kincaid, Jack McCoy, Lennie Briscoe, One Cute Doggo, Original Characters Summary:

While chasing down a lead, Detective Mike Logan comes across a tiny black puppy that wraps itself around his finger. Little did he know that the little pup would change his life completely in ways he could not foresee.

Massive thank you to @loganstonegibbskinney​ for the inspiration and prompt and for the awesome banner! <3

#Boombox fic #stogan #mike logan/ben stone #fic: how to fall in love in 3 weeks #Mikey rescues a dog

[time-is-standing]

I have been looking all around the internet in the last couple of weeks to find out everything about the upcoming 5sos concert. after the first 3 shows, I was looking at the whole setlist, making a spotify playlist out of it. (I actually was listening to castaway for days because I love that song so much!)

and I missed a lot of songs from other albums but one that truly hurt my feelings was Babylon. I partied so much to that song, it was the first 5sos song I ever showed to my friends. I have so much great memories, so I was sad to see that it wasn't one the list. one night I even thought "I'm so sad I won't be able to hear it live" and shed a tear or two. it really is one of my biggest favourites.

I was waiting in line for hours, standing outside the park for forever when someone started drumming. I could say I'd recognize Ashton even from miles away but I had no clue who was playing - until I recognized the song...

IT WAS BABYLON,

and oh my god, I started jumping around in the crowd singing the lyrics with some other strangers, who seemed to be the best company when it comes to dancing. (also boombox girl, I fell in love with you, you made the waiting so much eaiser!!)

I had so much fun, I can't get over this whole experience.

#5sos #5sos take my hand tour #take my hand tour #budapest #hungary #budapest park #babylon #castaway #i loved the experience #boombox girl is staying in my mind for weeks #i believe #it was so good #kfc #of course kfc

[inkskinned]

i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.

my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.

but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.

oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.

you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.

when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.

oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.

#spilled ink #warm up #wlw #writeblr

[lectern-fullcauldron]

ways to dramatically log back in to hermitcraft after an extended hiatus:

the BdoubleO: spend a week screaming and falling into other hermits' videos to foreshadow your dramatic return

the Keralis: edit a clip from one of your last episodes of season two and then make it seem as if you walked through a nether portal four seasons in the future

the welsknight: snooze in your season six cathedral whilst cub and scar do a magical crystal double act to send cub back in time to retrieve you to the modern day

the ethoslab: get sent to naughty boy, late to the season exile to do hermitcraft catch-up sessions

the mumbo jumbo: log in to your adoring and crying fans rushing to welcome you home (grian and iskall)

the tangotek: bid a dramatic goodbye to the modded villagers that you coded, as they cry and line the way to the nether portal that will lead you back to hermitcraft (someone's gotta go build boombox, after all)

the Docm77: 5 minutes of getting put on blast irl by your wife about your new obsession with tomatoes, before the giant goat statue you built escapes Minecraft to possess you with the endless yearning for the mines, causing you to dramatically exchange hats

the vintagebeef: log in like normal, etho is here. play minecraft with etho :))

the hypnotizd: you're in a branch mine. don't ask questions

#good to reblog #hermitcraft #ethoslab #keralis #bdoubleo100 #welsknight #mumbo jumbo #tangotek #docm77 #vintagebeef #hypnotizd

[pink-ego-box]

Song Of The Week

Вахтерам - Boombox

“Я помню белые обои, чёрная посуда.

Нас в хрущёвке двое, кто мы и откуда?

Задвигаем шторы, кофеёк, плюшки стынут.

Объясните теперь нам, вахтёры, почему я на ней так сдвинут”

#song of the week #sotw #вахтерам #boombox #2006 #Family Бізнес

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 

There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 

“You coming?” 

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 

*

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 

“Oh hey, can I help you?” 

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 

Legs. 

And an ass. 

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 

It’s Good Housekeeping. 

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[satoruhour]

Nanami, who bakes fresh bread at least once a week probably subconsciously kneads your ass when you cuddle, sometimes even in his sleep. You'll give each other massage often and he'll spend tad longer literally kneading your breasts and ass fghj

a/n: PAUUUUSEEEEE THIS IS SO CUTE !!!! made it a little n*sfw too

warnings: fem!reader, making out, dry humping, p -> v sex, slow morning sex, n*sfw under the cut

bread has always been part of nanami’s life. whether it’s the hindbærsnitter and direktørsnegl his grandparents made him when he was young or when he’s mellowed out into a buttery croissants and cream puffs and now, when all he’s got time for is simple cinnamon bread and sourdough. he’s not complaining — it’s not like he doesn’t have the money, he’s already making bread once a week.

not to say that it’s expensive, but it does take up a lot of time; in the time where it takes him to properly knead everything, he could’ve already made two trips to the bakery and buy his baguette sandwich.

but nanami likes organic when he can afford it, and so ever since he tries his best to make weekly bread on sundays. it’s a habit even after successfully asking you to be his partner with red cheeks, an annoying gojo holding up a boombox and a yuji shaking a banner in the background, and you’re saying yes whilst keeping in your laughter. later they both agreed it was because of them that you said yes, while nanami only asked the older to shut the fuck up.

that habit garners other habits, like how he purses his lips when he needs to get the exact measurements. he does it all the time now when he’s focusing on some sort of task, twisting his mouth here and there. the other relates to the gathering and pushing of dough, having kneaded so much these few years that it’s the only way now to work out the kinks in his body. and yours.

you realise it after date night at home, ignoring every single piece of dialogue in the movie to make out with your boyfriend. you’re sat in his lap, grinding slowly into his clothed bulge as his lips work wonders on yours. you’re sinking more and more into his embrace, leaving him breathless at your hips.

“sorry, i only ever invited you under the ruse of watching a movie,” you grinned, brushing the sweaty blonde locks from his forehead, “i was hoping this would happen.”

“i’ve got a scheming one on my hands, huh?” nanami’s smile is relaxed, letting his hands trail over your ass, but not before he asks and you’re putting them there yourself (“you don’t have to ask every time, kento.”). your ass is so plump and full, he just can’t help but pull and push at the flesh as your lips meet his again. you pull at his hair as the kiss deepens, feeling his hot breath every time you both come up for air. his hands move subconsciously, nudging you deeper into his arms via your ass, but you don’t say anything.

that next morning you’re awoken from the same thing, groggily stirring and blinking through the brightness of the sun, but something else pulls you from your state of unconsciousness — that is, nanami’s hand upon your bare chest, kneading at your breasts. you have to stifle a laugh because you can hear him rouse from sleep, too.

he continues on for a while, grinding his pelvis into yours and now you struggle to hold in moans. you feel dizzy from the bare morning wood pressed into your ass, trailing a hand to your clit to relieve some of the frustrations. you’re wet within seconds, paired with the hand on your chest and the feel of his shaft against your back—

“already in the mood?” nanami mumbles against your neck, pressing feather-like kisses there as he continues to buck his hips into your ass. without much effort, you’re lifting your legs and grabbing his half-hard cock.

“y . . yeah,” you moan softly. with your boyfriend’s help, he pushes past your cunt and in. the feeling overwhelms you as much as it does him, shown in the way his hand squeeze your tits, “f-feels good, kento . .”

where nanami likes to get ready quick in the morning, he likes to take his time when he has you around, hips moving slowly and stretching you out so early in the morning. he flips you over gently as his thrusts stay slow. too slow for your liking, because you’re already fucking yourself back onto him.

“patience, little lady,” he sighs, loving how your ass moves each time it meets his pelvis and the sheer coat of your juices gets him hypnotised. he grabs onto your ass, not sparing you one glance as his hips meets yours halfway and a drawn out moan leaves your lips.

“do you know— you do that . . by the way?” your eyes are scrunched up but you aren’t left to pleasure just yet. you turn your body just right so you could meet nanami’s eyes.

“do what?” nanami grunts out, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“that.” you nod towards his hands, soft pants leaving your mouth at the two contrasting sensations of the gentle morning and your lewd actions. they’re kneading your ass again and nanami doesn’t seem to know what you’re talking about until you voice it out plainly. “you like to knead my tits and ass quite a bit, don’t you?”

he hums, leaning forward over your body to line his chest up to your back, “yeah. yeah i guess i do.” and he laughs, grinding his cock into you and you gasp; he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeply, hands sneaking back onto your tits and he kneads more knowingly, now, smiling into the kiss.

“can’t blame me with how soft you are.”

“not you comparing me — shit . . — t-to bread,” both your laughter mingles even as his hips speed up and your eyes roll back into your head, wrapping an arm around his neck to feel all of him and he whispers possibly the cheesiest line you’ve known to date, making you both clench around him and giggle uncontrollably.

“it’s true . . i need you daily.”

#WHAT IS THAT ENDINGGGG LMFAOOOO #man sorry guys i struggle a little when it comes to nanami #i am not satisfied w this at all 😭😭 #anon #asks #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento jjk #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut

[caninepoetryrelator]

Liquid Luck

Carl Grimes x Reader (16+)

Aged up Carl Grimes x Reader soft smut

Synopsis: Carl and you are not friends. So what’s gonna happen when you’re locked in a room together with a bottle of whiskey?

Warnings: Dick, dick getting sucked, no fully blown sex just oral, Carl is a cutie, also it’s a zombie apocalypse there’s gonna be zombies, plus various weapons and very brief nondescript violence.

Words: 3,843

It all started with a bad raid. We figured we could sneak into the pharmacy, get the medicine for Hershel, and then get out without attracting any attention.

Rick and Daryl stayed outside and kept watch while he sent you and Carl to take care of the rest.

That was it, straightforward, in and out.

Or at least it had been.

A week prior Glenn had put a boombox on the rooftop of the place to attract the walkers out and up instead of prowling the streets and the building.

The windows were almost all broken. Either by walkers or raiders, we didn’t know. But it sure was convenient when the door turned out to be locked.

You watched Carl adjust the brim of his hat and narrow his eyes at a broken square window a few feet above his head.

“I think I can fit,” he stated firmly, casting you a sidelong glance, quickly looking back at Rick when you made eye contact.

He had never been outright rude to you; he had never been anything to you. He had only introduced himself with a short greeting and a tight smile. He seemed much more open with everyone else yet standoffish around you.

“The kid can fit too,” agreed Daryl, nodding towards you. He’d always called you that despite you being the same age as Carl.

Carl’s face dropped as he glanced at you again. “I can do it by myself.”

“No, you can’t,” ordered Rick. “We don’t know how many walkers are still in there. You’re taking her with you.”

He sighed. Did he really not like you this much?

Before you had come to a conclusion Daryl had laid a leather jacket over the jagged glass in the frame before he and Rick boosted Carl into the window.

“I’ll make sure it’s safe!” He hollered from inside the building. There was some scuffling inside for a moment before he yelled “It’s clear!”

Next thing you knew you were standing in their respective interlaced fingers and they boosted you up to the window. You grabbed the edges and dove in. It wasn’t until you let go of the window frame that you realized that you, unlike Carl, were falling face first instead of feet first.

Luckily, you were met with the last type of relief you expected. Carl grabbed your waist, slowing your descent enough to use your own momentum to turn you so you landed on your feet. His hands linger on your waist as you stand chest to chest with him. You look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily. His face is red, probably from exertion.

Just before you can thank him he pulls quickly away, looking down nervously. You lower your head into his line of sight so that he makes eye contact with you.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile.

He nods shortly before taking out his knife and heading towards a door. “This way.”

You follow him, Michonee’s old sword she had given you in hand as you follow him closely, checking your surroundings avidly. Both of you continuously glanced up at the ceiling, which creaked under the weight of anywhere from fifty to one hundred walkers.

Your shoe nudged something on the ground— a bottle of whiskey. You quickly stooped and picked it up, putting it in one of the pockets of your oversized cargos.

You make your way to the back of the building, into the section where the pills are stored.

“What are we looking for again?” You ask.

“Promethazine, it’s anti-nausea medication for throwing up. Hershel’s worried the vomit from people with the flu in town could make it more contagious.” He replies, examining bottles instead of looking at you.

With a soft frown at his bland attitude, you wander to the ‘P’ section, browsing for promethazine.

You found five prefilled prescriptions made out to various, probably now dead, people.

“Carl,” you call, holding up a handful of amber pill bottles.

“Nice one,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. The first time he’s smiled at you. It was a nice smile. You felt your face heat up as you smiled as well.

Carl turned around for you to put the meds in his backpack. You brush his hair out of the way and he whips his head around immediately.

“W-what’re you doing back there?”

“Making sure your hair doesn’t get caught in the zipper,” you reply simply.

He relaxes as you unzip the bag and place the medications inside.

Just as you were zipping the beg, a loud creaking sound resounded from the ceiling. Carl and you glanced at each other with wide eyes.

“This way,” he commanded, taking your hand and leading — practically dragging — you through the pharmacy. The thumping on the roof was becoming more prominent and you could hear gunshots from outside.

You were practically running now as the sounds became nearly overwhelming. You were near the doctor's office section of the building when the ceiling began to give.

“Shit,” you muttered as the ceiling tiles began to fall.

Carl’s hand was on your waist again, this time snatching you out of the way of something falling— a walker, collapsed on the ground where you had just been standing.

Everything was happening so fast, and next thing you knew the ground was littered with walkers, all focused on the two of you. Your sword could only do so much as you slashed at the hoard, managing to take out two in one blow as you attempted to keep them at bay.

When Carl’s hands were on your waist again this time you didn’t question it— he snatched you backwards and into a room, where he slammed the door closed and locked it.

It was a check up office; it contained white brick walls and linoleum tile. In the corner was an oak desk with a monitor and sanitary supplies stacked on it. There was a cot against the opposite wall and various equipment hanging from the walls.

The thudding at the door where Carl stood jarred you back to reality, spurring you to grab the desk and shove at it. It had to be at least four hundred pounds. Carl pulled from the other side and together you managed to use it to barricade the door. He collapsed against the cot, panting.

You joined him, holding up your hands in a calming gesture as he looked at you with a shaky, nervous expression.

“Well, shit,” he muttered with an ironic chuckle.

“Probably gonna be in here for a while,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered bitterly.

Why don’t you like me?

The words almost came out of your mouth, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead you just looked at him, with a resigned expression.

You take the whiskey from your pocket and open it, taking a swig. After drinking with Daryl it didn’t phase you too much anymore, but he stared at you with a shocked expression, cheeks dusted pink.

“Where did you get that?”

“Store,” you replied simply, holding out the bottle to him.

After a moment of hesitation he took it, taking a swig with a grimace. “How do you drink that shit?” He laughs.

He laughed. A real laugh. It’s your first time hearing it. You want to hear more of it.

“Daryl,” you explain simply and he nods with a groan.

“I see,” he takes another drink and passes the bottle back to you.

It’s called liquid courage for a reason, you think. That’s all the convincing it takes for you to start chugging the bottle. You get about five swallows down before Carl’s hands, one on the bottle and one on your jaw, stop you from going further.

“Don’t overdo it,” he chides you gently.

You nod dumbly, watching a drop make its way down his neck, tracing his adam’s apple as he takes another drink. You notice the way his lips pucker around the mouth of the bottle and you force yourself to look away.

After a moment of silence he speaks again.

“Wanna play truth or dare?”

You look at him in surprise, hesitating for a moment.

“Only if you want to—” he starts nervously before you cut him off with a simple statement.

“Sure.”

He looks at you in relief, clearly afraid to have overstepped before smiling, a bit anxiously. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you don’t hesitate; they really do call it liquid courage for a reason.

He glanced around the room before his eyes land on the stethoscope. “I dare you to give me a checkup?” He phrases it as a question so you don’t feel forced. Cute.

You grab various medical equipment, wrapping the stethoscope around your neck with a drunken grin. “I’m your doctor, I’ll be giving you your physical,” you say in your best attempt at a deep voice. You were clearly already drunk. Normally you would’ve felt stupid but with the heartwarming giggle he let out paired with an over dramatic eyeroll, you felt nothing but at ease.

As you begin measuring his heart rate he swallows hard, his pink cheeks darkening to red. His heart thumped steadily; quickly.

“Truth or dare,” you murmur as you measure his vitals.

“Uh…” he swallowed hard, eyes flickered from your hands against his chest to your face, feigning focus. “Dare.”

“Take your shirt off,” you say with an innocent grin. He blanches, surprised. “To check your vitals better. Only if you want to.” You assure him sweetly.

In a moment he was struggling to pull his shirt off, disoriented from the alcohol.

Next thing you know your hands are running down his sides to the hem of his shirt. Halfway through struggling out of his shirt he looks up at you from his sitting position, face still read and panting. You gently tug his shirt upwards, prompting him to pull his arms through the holes and you pull it over his head.

You giggle at the state of his hair, correcting it without hesitation.

“Real soft,” you muse as you gently sweep his hair out of his face. The poor boy looks overwhelmed as he stares up at you, arms wrapped around himself nervously.

You gently move the arm he has wrapped around his chest, pressing the stethoscope there once more. His heart is beating almost worryingly fast.

“You okay hon?” You ask gently.

“Mhm,” he manages, seeming to have a hard time speaking.

“Okay,” you murmur, putting the stethoscope on various places around his chest, pretending to know what you’re doing.

“Truth- uh truth or dare,” he chokes out.

“Dare,” you repeat, this time even more sure than the last.

“Can you uhm.. touch my hair again?” He wasn’t making eye contact at all now, seemingly fascinated by his jeans as he stares down, still adorned by that bright blush.

In a second your hands are in his hair. Even when you hadn’t been talking you were fascinated by his hair. Rick had caught you staring several times and always met you with a soft smile or a laugh, whereas Daryl arched his eyebrow with a slight grin.

His hair really was soft, soft as hell. You rubbed a single strand between your fingers before trailing your fingers from his roots to the ends of his hair. You secure your hands around his scalp, threading your fingers through his hair as you continue to play with it, enamored.

You hadn’t even noticed his face, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing deeply.

You lean in closer and murmur by his ear. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes flicker open and he breathes for a moment. “Truth.”

“Why do you avoid me back at camp?” He froze.

“I-I don’t,” he lied, resulting in a small tug to his hair. He draws in a sharp breath, looking up at you surprised.

“Don’t lie,” you chide.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “People usually don’t make me nervous, but you do.” He was once again apparently entranced by his jeans so you cup his jaw gently, bringing his gaze up to meet your own.

“I like making you nervous. But not all the time. I like talking to you, Carl,” you explain in a soft voice.

He looks up at you with a genuine involuntary smile.

“Really?” He breathes.

“Yes,” you whisper, realizing how much closer you had gotten, your hand still settled on his jaw.

“Um… truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you repeat, adamant on forcing him out of his comfort zone.

“Is it okay if I— can I please, uhm—“

“Do whatever you want, Carl,” you interrupt him. “I trust you.”

His eyes widen at that and he finally rises to his feet. A familiar feeling. His hands on your waist. His grasp is awkward this time, less sure of himself when he’s not saving your life. When it’s a choice to be touching you.

He tugs you a bit closer and his eyes flicker to your lips. You know what he’s trying to do and you know he’s scared to do it.

Your hands are still in his hair and you use that to your advantage, pulling him towards you and letting him close the distance, giving you a hesitant kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but they’re plush and soft. He tastes like whiskey, and you’re sure you do too. He’s inexperienced; this might be his first kiss, you realize.

You follow that kiss with another chaste one pressed against his lips ever so gently.

“Feel good?” You murmur, forehead resting against his with your eyes closed.

“Mhm,” he hums, barely audible as he lets out another shakey breath. You know his eyes are closed too.

You’re both reveling. In each other's presence. Just breathing each other in as his arms move to loosely wrap around your waist instead of simply placing his hands there.

There it is. That’s right.

His hands on your waist were sweet but his arms encircling your waist was just right.

You pull him in for another slow kiss, heads tilted, mouth moving and prompting his to do the same, teaching him as best you could without saying a word.

“Wow,” he gasps against your lips. You try to give him a chance to explain his exclamation by pulling away, but he pulls you back in.

You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, hoping for him to part his lips a bit more and in response he gives your tongue a light suck, pulling it into his mouth and letting out a soft whine as he does.

Your kiss evolves in passion as his hand starts traveling over your body. It slides up your waist and onto your ribs, just shy of your boob. The other stays securely wrapped around your waist as though he’s attempting to anchor you to him.

As much as you adore the feeling of his lips, you pull away. His brow furrows, eyes still shut as he leans forward for another kiss, his lips chasing yours with a small sound of displeasure after you pull away.

You tug his hair, gently prompting him to tilt his head to the side to give you access to his neck. You start by pressing soft kisses there, a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, before retracing your steps with parted lips, allowing yourself to taste the sweet musky skin of his neck.

He lets out a choked whimper before covering his mouth with his hand. Not on your watch. You immediately grab his hand, pulling it down to your tit. He lets out a shakey gasp as he grasps at the soft flesh, groaning softly as he squeezes experimentally.

“Thank you..” he murmurs, eyes still screwed shut.

“Of course sweetheart,” you smile against his neck. He shivers at the nickname, giving you a minor power trip.

You begin sucking the flesh of his neck into your mouth where you begin biting gradually before biting harder to leave dark marks. You leave one by his jaw before remembering Rick, and what his reaction would be. You press a quick kiss to the mark before shoving him down on the cushioned exam cot, straddling him.

That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. He glances down at the point where your crotches met, biting his lip nervously. “S-sorry—” he started.

“Don’t be,” you assure him, leaning down to begin littering his chest with kisses.

You start the marks by his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. He was whimpering without restraint now, back arched.

His hand was moving up your body, down your arm, and to your hand. He held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze before simply holding your hand.

“Can I.. can I have—” he cut himself off with a small whimper before you stopped your ministrations.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

He groans slightly at that. “Can I— I wanna kiss.” He squeezes your hand again.

You lean up and meet him halfway with a soft kiss. He’s better now. He’s more prepared. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he gladly parts them, granting you entry. He opens his mouth a bit too wide, but you don’t mind. You pull back slightly, pulling away and following it with a chaste, soft kiss before continuing where you left off– his chest.

You continue sucking dark hickies along his chest, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his belly. A faint covering of dark hairs spreads from just about his belly button, trailing down to below the band of his jeans.

You let out a soft sigh of desire, lightly caressing his happy trail with the tip of your fingers. He shudders softly and you watch his cock twitch through his jeans. He begins to apologize again, cutting himself off with a soft groan when you plant a firm kiss to where his happy trail disappears under his jeans.

You tug softly at the button on his jeans. “Can I?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

He blinks in shock, looking down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, mouth agape. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” you chuckle.

He responds with a small nod, still clearly shocked. You make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down before looking up at him with a small nod, prompting him to climb to his feet and shed his pants, quickly clambering back onto the bench. You swing your leg over the base of his thighs, straddling them.

You’re quick to feel him up, groping at his straining cock.

Freeing his cock you glance up at him in surprise, He’s packing. Six, maybe seven inches, not too wide – you could probably fit your hand perfectly around it – with a pretty pink tip, practically dripping precum. You test your earlier theory by experimentally wrapping your hand around his cock, eliciting a whine from him.

He swallows hard before looking down at you. “Are you s-sure? You’re comfortable?”

You nod. “I want to do this for you sweet boy.”

He smiles softly, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” he sighs happily.

You lean down and kiss the head of his cock, causing him to jolt slightly. After lapping at the slit of his cock you take the head into your mouth. He gasps, bucking his hips.

Without warning you grab him by the hips and force him back against the cot which draws another whimper out of him as he pathetically attempts to squirm his hips closer to your mouth. You tut your tongue and pull away until he stops moving.

“Please,” he whines, struggling.

You decide to grant mercy on the poor boy, taking his head into your mouth once again. One arm forcing his hips against the table, you wrap the other hand around his cock and gently squeeze. He sighs happily, breath hitching as you begin moving your hand. Rotating it gradually as you move your hand up and down, you allow some of your saliva to drip from the head of his cock into your hand.

You use it as lubricant to begin pumping your hand up and down his cock faster, limp wristed as you continue lapping at the head of his cock. He arches his back more and whines.

Just as you begin taking more of his cock into your mouth his hand flies to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before squeezing, clearly doing his best to hold back from pulling your hair too hard.

“Mmh..” he moans softly, gripping at your hair firmly and applying slight pressure.

Suddenly you take as much as possible into your mouth, deepthroating him without warning. He lets out a sharp moan, gripping your hair tighter before releasing his grip in a slight panic as he realizes what he’s doing– it’s cute how hard he’s trying to hold back.

You use your tongue mostly, swirling it around his cock to the best of your ability as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You use one hand to massage his hard balls, ready to burst already. With that you remember that he’s a virgin, and you probably shouldn’t be teasing him so much.

This whole time he’s been making the most lewd noises, moaning and letting out small whimpers to the rhythm of you bobbing your head. His cock twitches in your mouth, prompting you to go faster to help him through.

You release his hips and meet his eyes when he gives you a confused glance, silently giving him permission. Experimentally, he bucks his hips, moaning before falling into a steady rhythm, his hips rising and falling shakily against your mouth.

He grips your hair even tighter, bringing tears to your eyes as you gag on his cock. After less than ten seconds he releases his load down your throat. Despite your attempts to swallow it dribbles out of your mouth and down his cock.

The low groan he had released had tapered off into a moan, sighing as he finally collapsed from his high. As he lays there, chest heaving, you slowly climb on top of him, collapsing there and cuddling into him.

He turns and kisses the top of your head, his wide smile unknown to you.

“I think I’m less nervous around you now,” he murmurs into your hair.

You smile softly as he places his hand on your waist once again. “Good,”

Thank god for liquid courage.

They cleared the pharmacy of walkers eventually, and by the time they reached you the two of you were cleaned up.

You came out swinging, having to run to the truck.

The two of you ended up so battered and bruised Rick didn’t even think to mention the bruise at the base of Carl’s jaw, and the one on his collarbone, just visible when he wore tank tops.

You saved the whiskey for next time.

#carl grimes #carl #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl x enid #carl grimes x y/n #carl x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl x you #twd #the walking dead

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm onto you

It may be Halloween, but it's also...@simplebtromance's birthday!!! You've been here with me pretty much since the beginning, and you deserve so much more than this ficlet, but I hope you love this anyway! We've had many a discussion about queer Wayne, so this is just a little something for you to sip on as a birthday treat 💖

rated t | 1,605 words check ao3 for more tags

Wayne liked to think he couldn’t be rattled, not since Eddie “died” and showed up on his doorstep being held up by Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson looking like he hadn’t slept in a week and hadn’t showered for even longer.

But walking into his trailer to see Steve Harrington wrapped up in Eddie’s arms on his couch did startle him a bit.

It’s not like Steve was a stranger, not since he’d explained some of what happened to Eddie with certain looks that told him he wasn’t able to say more, please don’t ask, please accept what I’m telling you as the full truth and nothing but the truth. But he’d only been over when the kids were over, hanging back and watching them have fun with Eddie with a soft smile on his face.

Wayne noticed, he always noticed. But he didn’t really think much of it until now.

Steve was lying on top of Eddie, head on his chest and hand gripping his shirt like a lifeline. His face was relaxed, though, lips parted as he breathed shallowly. Eddie’s arms were wrapped around his back, hands not quite gripping, but clearly holding him tight.

It could be nothing.

It could just be that both of these boys had seen things that most wouldn’t understand and found solace in each other.

It could be that they didn’t mean to fall asleep like this.

It could be that they were exploring something together.

Wayne smiled to himself when Steve’s hand loosened, falling away from Eddie’s shirt. Eddie’s arms tightened briefly, his head turning so that his face buried more into Steve’s hair.

He walked towards his bedroom with the same fond smile on his face.

– – – – – –

It wasn’t the first time Wayne was woken up by the sound of loud music playing, but it was definitely the first time that it was the sound of Blondie blasting through the speakers of Eddie’s boombox.

His alarm clock said that it was almost ten in the morning, so he couldn’t be too mad. Six hours of sleep was more than he got for years, and from the sounds of it, Steve was still here and probably making them breakfast.

He’d done that a lot when Eddie was healing, unable to do much other than walk to the bathroom when he needed to and eat in his bed. Wayne was grateful for it, for Steve.

When he walked into the kitchen, he froze.

Eddie was sitting on the counter, Steve standing between his legs.

Kissing.

He considered turning around and pretending he hadn’t seen it, figured they’d both come to him when they were ready to acknowledge whatever they were.

But when he heard a quiet moan, he had to let them know he was there.

“Mornin’ boys.”

They jumped apart quickly, Steve turning towards the pan on the stove full of bacon with an obvious flush covering the back of his neck.

Eddie jumped off of the counter and tried to hide Steve’s discomfort.

“Hey. Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you up,” Eddie started tugging on the ends of his hair, his nervous habit from childhood, even before his hair was this long.

“Music’s kinda loud. It’s okay though. Whatcha makin’?” He asked, pretending everything was normal, not pointing out that he’d just walked in on them making out in the kitchen.

“Bacon,” Steve’s shaking voice came from behind Eddie. “Fried eggs. Toast with peanut butter or jelly.”

“Sounds great,” Wayne said, walking to the coffee pot to grab a cup of coffee, smiling to himself when he realized that one of them had started a fresh pot not too long ago.

He snuck a glance at Steve, who looked like he was going to start crying any moment.

And that just didn’t sit right.

He didn’t want Steve to ever feel uncomfortable here, whether he was here as a friend to Eddie or more.

He set his mug back down without taking a sip and gently pushed Eddie aside to tug Steve into a hug.

Steve tensed in his arms for a moment, then relaxed, a shaky breath leaving him as Wayne rubbed his back.

“You’re allowed to be happy here, Steve. You don’t gotta tell me anything you don’t wanna, but you’re safe in this house. You and Ed both,” he said softly against the top of Steve’s head.

He was reminded of a similar discussion he’d had with Eddie when he was 14, when he’d been caught kissing an older boy when Wayne came home early from a shift at the plant. The boy ran, and Eddie had locked himself in his room for 15 minutes, furiously packing. When he opened the door to see Wayne leaning against the wall next to the door, unimpressed look on his face, he froze.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he’d asked him.

“You won’t want me to stay now, right?” Eddie had tried to sound confident, emotionless, but he was failing.

“Be a bit hypocritical of me to kick ya out for kissin’ a boy when I’ve got a boyfriend, wouldn’t it?”

Eddie unpacked, and they talked for a bit about Wayne’s boyfriend, Eddie being gay, and how he’d always be safe in Wayne’s house.

Steve had clearly never been given that kind of comfort, maybe hadn’t even had the chance to find that comfort in his own home. Wayne could give that to him.

“You don’t care that I’m, that we-” Steve started, almost immediately getting shushed by Wayne.

“Son, I’ve known Ed’s gay for years and if you think I wasn’t onto you the day you brought him to me half dead, I dunno what to tell ya.”

Eddie was standing to the side, watching quietly. Wayne didn’t need to see his face to know he was grateful.

“Sorry we kinda defiled the kitchen,” Steve finally said as he pulled away.

“Kissin’ ain’t defiling anything.”

Steve blushed again, wiped his eyes as he turned back to where the bacon was probably about to burn.

“No it’s not.”

Wayne paused as he thought about the phrasing of Steve’s response.

He looked over at Eddie, who was conveniently pouring his own cup of coffee. He didn’t even like coffee.

“My one and only rule is that you clean up after…whatever it is you’ve done to defile the shared space,” Wayne smirked. “I’d prefer it stays in the bedroom, though, kay?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed, not making eye contact.

“Got it,” Eddie replied.

Any leftover awkwardness disappeared when Wayne tried to reach directly into the still sizzling pan to grab a piece of bacon, only to be swatted away by Steve.

“You’ll burn yourself!” Steve shook his head. “Now I see where Eddie gets it.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “I do not reach into still cooking pans! I wait until the food is on a plate before I burn myself!”

“My apologies. You’re just an idiot later,” Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his tone gave away how much he cared about Eddie.

– – – – – –

Wayne started seeing Steve more often, usually wrapped in Eddie’s arms or holding his hand, or watching him play guitar.

He spent the night more often than not, and Wayne sometimes overheard his yelling when he had a nightmare.

Eddie explained to him that they’d gotten better, but he’d probably always have nights where the monsters made an appearance, and unfortunately, getting him out of the nightmare was pretty difficult.

If Wayne was awake already, he usually brought a cup of tea to Eddie’s room and gave them both a quick kiss on the head.

He also made them breakfast most mornings, liked cooking for them, experimenting with new recipes and finding interesting flavor combinations.

After a few months of this, Wayne suggested he look into culinary school.

“There’s a place in Indy, I know one of the chefs there. He’d probably be able to help ya get started,” Wayne said around a bite of his peach pancakes with vanilla syrup.

“I dunno if I can do much besides breakfast and desserts,” Steve shrugged, looking down at his plate. “Plus, Indy’s too far to be driving back and forth every day. I still have to work.”

“Not if you live there. And you could probably work at a restaurant in the evenings.”

Eddie watched them both, unreadable expression on his face.

“Maybe.”

“You know, there’s a few bars there that I could play at. A record shop that probably would hire me,” Eddie chipped in casually, taking a bite of his pancake.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I mean, we’d need to find somewhere cheap, but we could swing it. I’ve got some money still from the government.”

“Yeah, but-”

Eddie’s fork clinked against his plate when he set it down.

“Stevie. Do you want to try?”

Wayne watched them watch each other, small smile forming as he started to understand their silent conversation.

“Only if it’s with you, baby,” Steve finally said.

“Then we’ll go this weekend to check it out.”

– – – – – – – –

Wayne got to watch them choose each other.

He watched them choose a life outside of Hawkins.

He watched them choose a future where they could have a happiness he could only dream of.

They came to visit often, and invited Wayne to their apartment almost as often.

They even brought him to one of their favorite bars, known for being a safe place for queer people, where he struck up a conversation with one of the bartenders, Larry.

And then he got to choose a life outside of Hawkins too.

One that led to more happiness than he could have pictured for himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #wayne munson #birthday fic #getting together