#they are just three little guys who run around in my head and i let them

[redriotinggg]

east blue polycule hitchhiking au that i’ll never write

luffy n zoro meet at a convenience store/gas station. and find out they’re both pretty much stranded with no destination in mind. they team up and use the last of their money to buy snacks and bottom-shelf booze.

enter nami, who steals their wallets while they’re making out by the slushie machine and is pissed to find out they’re broke as hell.

zolu catch her but are ultimately intrigued by the angry red-headed bandit. she ends up coming along with them because they can be her protection if needed and she knows she can outwit them if she needs to get away.

the trio finesse their way onto a bus, where luffy tells nami that her freckles look like stars, and zoro says he knows she’s strong/tough even though she may not look like it. (“don’t let her puny fingers fool you, this woman’s strong”). her heart skips a beat and she wonders when her standards got so low, but she’s happy, so she lets it slide.

the bus takes them to the beach, where they encounter usopp, who’s sitting alone, painting the scenery.

luffy sees him painting and runs over to ask about it, doing so and unabashedly stealing the food from his picnic basket. nami and zoro also come to steal. usopp’s pissed bc wtf??? that’s his food???? but then they compliment his painting and he’s like, “Well it’s bc I’m a descendent of Picasso-” and the trio turns into a quartet.

turns out usopp has a vehicle! (“why do you have a wholeass mini-van at 19 lmao” “shut up it was a hand-me down! and it’s convenient to carry my artwork around”) and has been using it to drive around and think. his one-man roadtrip turns into a three-man-one-woman roadtrip. he feels he should he mad and is a little mad but mostly he’s happy to have new friends. he just hopes they don’t kill him. (“btw guys if you try to murder me, my friend modified me into a killer cyborg so i wouldn’t do that if i were you”)

they come across some guys trying to rob a woman, so luffy n zoro beat em up and nami steals their wallets. they use that money to pay for their dinner at—you guessed it—the baratie.

just like in canon, zolusona terrorize sanji, who’s working tables after being punished by zeff. he’s pissed enough to be impulsive, so he lets the quartet steal him away from the restaurant and back into the van.

they head back to the beach with food and booze stolen from the restaurant, eating, drinking, and having more fun than any of them can remember. shared gazes, amused smiles, whispered secrets. they were all meant to meet. they can feel it.

luffy runs off to skinny dip in the ocean and zoro strips down nude to join him. the other three blush but strip down to the their undies, holding hands as they race to the water. they all laugh and swim and play. it’s fun and intimate, and none of them can ignore the connection they’ve made. can’t ignore the pull they feel for each other, as individuals and as a collective.

exhausted, they lay usopp’s multitude of blankets onto the sand and collapse on top of it, falling asleep curled around each other, only to be rudely awoken by the beach’s lifeguards, who give them the chance to pack up and leave before they call the cops.

“what now?” usopp asks when they pile back into his van. along with the others, his breath catches at the sight of luffy’s wide, dazzling grin. “off to the next adventure, of course!” and so they go. <3

#east blue polycule #east blue crew #merryshipping #zolu #zoluna #sanuso #i’m not tagging all the ships no no no. just rb this for me thanks #luffy #zoro #nami #sanji #usopp #one piece #op fic #red’s writing #red’s fic

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

May the Fourth Be with You

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language (maybe?), implied sex (maybe?), fluffy times, Star Wars V spoilers (I guess?), idk let me know if I've missed anything Word count: 1.7k

Summary: You and Casey are watching the twins so your parents can go on vacation and, unbeknownst to Casey, you fully plan on celebrating Star Wars day. But you end up celebrating something else entirely.

Casey jerked awake as the Star Wars theme song blared to life around her.

“What the hell?!” she muttered, stretching and blinking to find you, Winnie, and Eli standing at the foot of the bed with lightsabers. Winnie had on a Darth Vader mask.

You grinned, giggling, and counted your siblings off. “Okay, guys, one… two… three… May the Fourth be with you!”

Casey groaned and tried to put on a good face for Eli and Winnie as she sat up. “Oh, wow. Happy… what are we celebrating?”

“The breakfast tray, young padawans,” you prompted, bowing slightly. Eli and Winnie grabbed either side of a tray and set it over Casey’s lap. Of course, she thought as she looked over the hash brown patty decorated as Chewbacca, with little bacon arms and legs. The avocado toast that somehow had the face of Yoda. Star Wars day. May the Fourth be with you. She shook her head. This is what she got for dating a huge nerd. Even the orange juice was in a little Star Wars glass that looked like it had come straight out of the ‘70s. For all she knew, it might have. Your dad was a huge nerd, too.

“Okay, guys,” you said, giving them a small salute. “You can go eat your breakfasts. Casey and I will come down in a little bit and we can start A New Hope.”

The kids cheered and thundered downstairs, leaving just you in your Han Solo t-shirt sitting at the edge of the bed. “Sorry to wake you,” you apologized, running a hand through her messy morning hair. “I put them off as long as I could.”

“I don’t know how your parents do this all the time.” Casey yawned, making a squished sandwich of the avocado toast, the hash brown and the bacon. She bit into and moaned. “God, it’s worth it for your breakfast, though.”

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. You and Casey were watching your siblings, Winnie and Eli–who were both sixteen and both had Down syndrome–for two weeks, so your parents could go on vacation. They were great kids. You loved them with your whole heart. And you loved that Casey loved them, too. That she was willing to use her vacation time to help you take care of them.

“I think we’re gonna start with A New Hope,” you told her. “It’s the only one they’ve seen besides the kid shows, and the original trilogy’s the best anyway.”

“I’ve never seen Star Wars,” Casey mused, taking another bite of her mishmashed sandwich.

Your jaw dropped. “Casey, what!? None of them!?”

She shook her head, wiping crumbs off the corner of her mouth.

“How come I didn’t know this?! You never told me…”

Casey looked almost guilty as she shrugged. “I don’t really have any desire to see Star Wars…”

You gasped. “And this from the love of my life!?” You clutched your hands to your chest dramatically.

“Calm down,” she scoffed, ruffling your hair as she finished the breakfast sandwich and drained the juice, setting the tray aside so she could wrap her arms around you. “I love that you love Star Wars. I love it when you talk nerdy to me.” She placed a kiss on your neck.

“Oh, yeah?” You smirked, raising your eyebrows.

“Mmhm,” Casey confirmed, pressing her lips to yours. She tasted citrusy from the orange juice, and your brain momentarily blacked out.

You smiled into her, lips brushing against hers. “Did you know the Millennium Falcon is a YT-1300 Corellian light freighter?”

Casey kissed you again, placing both hands on the sides of your face to deepen it.

“And it made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs?”

“You’re such a nerd,” she chuckled, pushing you back into the headboard and straddling your lap.

You moaned slightly, your hands slipping under her t-shirt, as she slid her tongue into your mouth.

“Hey!” a voice called, and you and Casey shot apart as if you were teenagers caught by your parents. It was Winnie, in all her 4’10” glory, standing arms crossed, Darth Vader mask on, in the doorway. “You two,” she ranted, pointing at you, “need to stop all this kissing. Get your butts downstairs. It’s May the Fourth Be with You! Not Kissing Be with You!”

“Get out of here, Winnie!” you yelled playfully, throwing a pillow out of her. “We’ll be down in a second.”

She crossed her arms. “You know you’re not allowed to have girlfriends or boyfriends upstairs. That’s what mom says to you and Chase.”

“I’m a full-grown adult, Winnie! I have a job! And an apartment!” you protested. “I can do whatever I want!” You launched yourself out of bed, flushed, straightening your clothes. “And Chase is married!”

Casey’s shoulders shook with laughter, her face red. You rolled your eyes, taking her hand in yours to pull her up from the bed. You followed Winnie downstairs, slapping Casey’s hand away as she squeezed your ass.

“The children, Casey!” you hissed. She smirked and kissed the side of your head.

You had more fun watching Star Wars that day than you’d had in a long time. But you loved watching Casey with your siblings more. It meant so much to you, so much more than you could ever say–and you’d said a lot–that she was so good with them, that she cared about them, even loved them. It made your heart soar when Eli asked for his daily smoothie and wanted Casey to make it, not you. It was a task reserved for whoever was his favorite at the time. You loved that these days, his favorite was Casey.

Even more exciting was getting to watch perhaps the only three people in the world who didn’t know Darth Vader was Luke’s father see the reveal.

“What!?” Casey yelled, into it despite herself, mostly because it was fun to be into something with the people around you. The kids screamed, throwing things around the room. You grinned all the way to your ears, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Casey’s mouth. You just couldn’t help yourself. She slipped a sneaky hand underneath your shirt to caress your bare skin, making you shiver, and you shot her a look that said, “This is fine, but you’re pushing it.”

And at your favorite part–when Han Solo and Princess Leia are reunited once more at Jabba the Hutt’s lair–you cheesed and smiled and couldn’t help cooing and awwing. They were your favorite. They’d always been your favorite. When you were young, you’d convinced yourself that you had a crush on Han Solo, but really you’d wanted to be Han Solo. The crush, so obvious in hindsight, had been on Princess Leia.

“Ugh, she’s so pretty!” you squealed, and Casey smiled at you, pinching your dimpled cheek.

“Ooohhh,” Winnie teased. “You should be married with her.”

“What?!”

“You should be married with Princess Leia because you said you like her.”

You shrugged. “I mean, I do like her. She’s very pretty. But you know who’s prettier?” You leaned in toward Winnie and Eli, as if you were going to tell them a secret. “Casey.”

Winnie and Eli shrieked, scandalized.

You wrapped an arm around Casey’s waist, pulling her to you, and she giggled, blushing. You kissed her cheek. “Casey is the prettiest. I like her so, so much. I’m gonna be married with Casey.”

After the kids’ laughter had died down and they were distracted by the ewoks, Casey looked at you thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair. “Do you mean it?” she asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

She played with her fingers. “That you want to get married?”

Your heart melted a bit as you watched her. She was nervous to ask. And Casey was never nervous.

You cupped her face. “Of course I am! We talked about this at Chase’s wedding, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but…” she avoided your eyes. “You didn’t bring it up again.”

“Oh, Case,” you breathed, rubbing her cheek. You laughed a little bit, and she looked at you as you pulled a small plastic bag out of the pocket of your basketball shorts. Casey gasped quietly as she realized what it was, as you held out the ring. “I was gonna make it more romantic, but...”

“Y/N,” she squealed, and planted a quick kiss on your lips, as quiet and chaste as she could manage, so as not to interrupt the kids–or prompt them to interrupt you.

You waited for her nod, then slipped the ring on her finger, smiling.

“How long have you had it,” she asked, whispering, as she turned it around and around.

You grinned at her. “I ordered it after you went to sleep the night of Chase’s wedding.”

“You didn’t,” she said, swatting your arm, sniffing aggressively and trying to avoid crying.

“I did.” And when she turned to you, you knew you’d never, ever get tired of her. Her face, her laugh, the way she kept you on your toes. You loved every single bit of her, so much it almost ached. You’d decided that very night, that very conversation at Chase's wedding reception, that If Casey wanted it, you’d do it. It would be your absolute privilege, your joy, your honor to marry her.

She kissed you a few more times, soft and quick, then leaned her body into yours, resting her head on your chest.

“We’ll celebrate more later,” she whispered, winking up at you and squeezing your hand.

“Hey,” you prompted when she turned her head back to the movie. She looked up at you, and you traced her eyebrows, her cheekbones, all the way down to her chin. “I love you.”

She grabbed your hand and kissed it. “I love you, too.” She smirked and giggled, then added. “Nerd.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, happier than you’d ever been in your life.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak x fem!reader #casey novak fanfic #casey novak fluff #law and order #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #svu fanfic

[middlingmay]

I'm really curious about the runaway Gale AU! I would love to know more. How does he meet Bucky?

Hello! Thanks for the ask @avonne-writes. It always makes my absolute day whenever I see that other people like my AUs. I just like rambling, but it's nice that other people like to hear it.

And I figured what better way to answer your questions than post part 1 of my HCs for this AU. Enjoy! And rest assured, there will never be an AU I write where the Buckies don't meet ;)

Runaway!Gale AU

He wasn’t sure he could be classed as a runaway at eighteen. In a lot of places, eighteen-year-olds were fully responsible, independent adults in the eyes of the law. But Gale didn’t have that luck. Wouldn’t for another three years.

And one night that seemed like three years too long to live under the yoke of his parents.

To be home, an obedient, the rest of his life? Gale couldn't bear it.

He’d tried, like most teenagers, to carve out some identity as he grew. Heck, he’d tried to grow; tried to find his boundaries and tried to make new friends, but quickly found himself grounded. Tried to get a job, but they wouldn’t drive him there or give him bus fare. Wouldn’t let him get lessons to learn to drive.

Every, "No, Gale", "You have responsibilities here, Gale", "Why would you break your mother's heart like that, Gale", made his skin feel tighter, his blood hotter, his jaw and neck tenser, until he felt like he was going to combust and transform under the pressure to be who they wanted him to be, and it wasn't himself.

One day, he walked passed a recruiting office and by the time he blinked he was inside, talking to a uniformed officer and leaving with an application form tucked under his arm. He hid that application form for the US Air Force, to a career, an education and a purpose - all the things his parents had denied him - under his mattress.

Only, his dad had found it.

Gale came home from tending to the horses, the one chore he actually enjoyed, and headed to his room to wash up for dinner. When he opened the door, he saw the confetti of his last hope strewn over his bedroom floor, torn to shreds.

No one said anything at dinner and neither did he.

That night after his parents fell asleep, Gale packed his backpack full of clothes and, despite the guilt making his hands shale, grabbed a fistful of notes from his father’s secret stash and was on the first bus out of town.

It took him to Denver, Colorado.

It was a late bus, and he gets into Denver after the sun came up. He spends that first day wandering the streets. He spends as little as he can on a bite to eat, knowing he has to be sparing with his cash. He scopes to see what kind of 'help wanted' signs are in windows, but mostly, he just…walks. He goes wherever he wants to, on his own clock. He savours his first taste of freedom, of independence, slow. Like quality chocolate.

When evening comes he thinks about finding as cheap a room as possible. He stops a guy on the street and asks for directions to a motel. The guy looks him up and down but smiles friendly enough and directs him to Colfax Avenue.

Gale follows the directions as best he can, but he feels off the further he goes. He’s almost relieved when a complete stranger runs across the street, booming at him:

“BUCK!”

Gale doesn’t know what he looks like, but it can’t be good because by the time the man realise he’s got the wrong guy, he holds his palms up, placating, and asks Gale if he’s okay without even introducing himself.

And without introducing himself, Gale asks wide-eyed, for the first time in his entire life, “Please help me.”

John’s concern collapses into a smile - until he hears where Gale is heading.

“Well someone’s trying to get to robbed, stabbed or worse. Don’t you be going anywhere near there, buck.”

John helps Gale find a motel in a modest part of town and gives Gale his number in case he gets lost again. As Gale watches him walk away, he finally remembers -

“Gale!”

John whirls around. “Uh, no. John. Or Bucky.”

Gale blushes but grins small. “I’m Gale, dummy.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #mota #headcanon #alternative universe #runaway!gale #john egan #gale cleven #ask me anything #masters of the air

[shapeoftheocean]

checking in after my radio silence. brain still full of karlnapity. thank you all

#karlnapity #they are just three little guys who run around in my head and i let them #georgia speaks

[bratbby333]

gamer!bf sukuna drabble

·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·

gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something

gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner

gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)

gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)

"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"

gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)

gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset

"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard

"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming

"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"

gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)

he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)

gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms

"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."

gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go

"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"

gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first

gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat

"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"

gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game

"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎

i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here

thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #jujustu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #sukuna oneshot #bratbby333

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

_____________________________________________________

“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

#unkuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #reader is black #x reader #jjk au #jjk headcanons #uncle sukuna

[chaosandmarigolds]

More Simon Riley and Pre-k teacher? Duh, cause I've been thinking about it for too long :0

Thinking about how the first day retirement!Simon would've gone when he was babysitting pre-k's little boy

Simon actually spent forty-two hours getting the house 'Ollie' proof, after you sent a two-paragraph long essay on how 'rambunctious' and 'high-energy' your three-year-old could be

Simon that never felt so happy as he opened the door to see you with Oliver on your hip, a small part of him wishing that you didn't have to drive to see him

Simon who never wanted the moment to end when you gave him a hug once you told Oliver to go run inside, smiling ear to ear as you handed him the backpack and lunch pail and a small remark on 'how he would make just a fine dad'

Simon which when Oliver wanted ice cream quickly whipped out his phone to text you to make sure the little guy didn't have any allergies

Simon who has your name saved with a <3 beside your name (something he will die with...and that Oliver noticed)

"dat's mommies name."

"right-o, laddie."

"Has heart, ooo, mommy likes hearts, 'ister Riley."

Simon with an ice cream in one hand and Oliver's hand in the other walks through the park, ensuring his silence on the matter

Simon who pushes Oliver onto the swing set at the playground about ten minutes from his house, not caring to look at how all of the mom's looked at him in awe because he had you, and you trusted him with Oliver- an honor he would never forake

Simon who carried Oliver park for two hours at the park since the little guy was just...so so tired, and began to think you got the kid all wrong, this little thing couldn't be so high energy that you had to warn him about it

Simon as he sat on the ground watched Oliver in the backyard, spending the next forty-nine minutes jumping on the tiny trampoline Johnny had given him as a prank gift- was carefully sweeping up the broken glass on the ground since Oliver sent on a little...run through the house as soon as they got home

Simon was exhausted when your car pulled into the driveway around six pm, your clothes a little worse for wear, and your hair frizzled out from the humidity

Oliver who took the opportunity to go through the zipped up and dusty bag that sat on the side of the sofa, finding Simon's old balaclava, being three chose to put it on

Simon who lets the hug linger as you thank him again for watching Oliver, only lets go when he hears your faint gasp and you move to walk in

Simon who swore his heart fell into his stomach when he saw the three-year-old with the old tattered thing- no! He hadn't washed it in- The kid was too-

'Oh my gosh! baby, where'da get that?'

'Ister Rileys."

'Really? well you look so so handsome but I think Mister Riley doesn't want you goin through his stuff'

Simon never though he would be affected by a little kids puppy dog eyes until he saw Oliver's, so he quickly shakes his head and tells the little dude that when he gets it washed its all his

Simon who would give so many more things than a war-run balaclava to see you and Oliver smile again

Simon who helped Oliver take a few of his things and was confused by the boys insistence on leaving his dinosaur with him

Simon was never more flattered when you explained that you always told Oliver that you would come back for his dinosaurs, so his want to leave them meant Oliver wanted to come back

Simon who really should've invited you in for dinner...Well, he would have all of summer to try again

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #cod mw2 #cod imagine #ghost imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley fluff #dad simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #call of duty mw3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader #coco’s pre-k universe! <3

[cheriladycl01]

Qatar Heat - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Everyone has a hard time at the Qatar GP, most needed medical attention once the race finished, some drivers retired and some continued even though they threw up in their helmets. What happens when the female of the grid, who already struggles with body temperature regulation finishes the race?

Credit to skitskatdacat63 for the GIF

It was Thursday, which was media day in Qatar which meant that right now you were walking round the paddock in shorts and your Aston Martin Team top.

"Lance, hey are you okay?" You ask your team-mate. You'd known him since last year as the reserve driver for Aston Martin, Seb wanted you to take his place after retirement.

"Yeah, its just so hot. And Henry's still making me do training" he complains.

"I know but think we got the ice bath's later!" you grin excited to have the ice bath. After a hot day of training it was like a reward. So you did your ball exercises and you did a track run for the media team. Afterwards you were about to lay down on the track ground but it was blistering when you put your hand to it.

"Tires are gonna get shredded" you complain a little out of breath to Jessie your personal trainer.

"Can we go get water and smoothies now?" You ask and Sid one of the media guys who had followed you around today nods. You guys get out of the sun before running into the garage and collecting as many people's orders from the garage as you can.

You bring everyone back what they wanted on a tray. Sid filmed you the whole time, so he could upload it to the Tik-Tok saying that the new Aston Martin waitress is pretty cool. And another one joking that you can always fall back on waitressing if F1 falls through which you found hilarious.

"Okay, Lance Y/N. Ice bath time!" Mike Krack informs you both. You go into your driver room changing into your bikini that'd you'd brought with you. You pull the Aston Martin polo back over, feeling as though it would be odd to walk out the back of the motorhome in a bikini.

You see the cameras on you and immediately smile. You go up very close to the camera.

"Hi guys, i felt awkward coming out in just my bikini so Aston Martin Representation!" you whisper before stepping back and poking your thumbs at your top to show them what you were talking about, as if it wasn't obvious.

Looking to your left, Lando, Oscar, Alex and Logan were also all doing icebaths out the back of the motorhome too.

"Looking good boys" you shout after wolf whistling in their direction, they all laugh having finished their icebaths coming over to you and Lance.

"Come on" Alex gestures you towards the ice bath. You roll your eyes pulling the top over your head and passing it to Alex, he steps back looking at the other three boys who are shamelessly staring at you.

You were the current youngest on the grid. 21 years old, so Oscar, Logan and Lando all took a liking to you, not only because of the age similarities but because of your sense of humor.

"Ready Lance, you ask your team-mate whose shirt was just pulled off and handed to Mike who was helping the social media team.

"Lets make this interesting. First to fully submerge wins"

"That's not exactly fair your from Canada...okay your on" you shout and before anyone can blink your jumping into the ice bath. Your up to your thighs before you watch as Lance starts to sink down. Not even thinking about the cold you just force your whole body down. You can feel the cold all around your hair as it floats up and you can feel the cold water on your eyelids.

You come back up with a gasped breath before looking over at all of them.

"Who won, it was me right?" you say with your eyes blown wide as Lance emerges.

"Yes, but your fucking crazy" Lando laughs looking at the smile that comes across your face.

"Hahaha Suck that Stroll! I win" you say looking over at him.

"Ohhh you know what we should do" you say looking over at the camera that was still pointed at you.

"We should do a thirst trap of me, so people can edit me on TikTok!" you exclaim and Oscar chokes, while Logan and Land laugh as your started to lean back in the bath, running your hands through you hair.

"Y/N how many times have we talked about this" Your PR manager exclaims trying to stop the admins from filming.

"Oh come on its what they want!" You exclaim.

After that night, you went out for food, a healthy meal of course that Lance payed for as the looser of the bet.

Friday First Practice was good, you'd come in 4th just behind the two Ferrari's and Max.

Qualifying was just as good, you were starting in 4th next to Lewis, with George and Max ahead of you for Sunday's race and that was locked in. It was exhausting, you were boiling but you pushed. Lance was angry with the car performance and got angry at Henry, you were shocked to see and hear what happened when you were still driving and scolded Lance, before nearly fainting from being dizzy.

Again, you did the ice bath dinner and slept.

Now to focus on Saturdays sprint. You did well in the first two sprint shoot outs. But ended up retiring the car in Q3, starting in 9th position.

You were so faint for the whole race. Today, it was hotter than all the other days. Your fireproof felt more clingy to your skin than usual and the water in the car was heating up quicker than it normally did.

At one point during the sprint race the water was so disgusting to drink you actually spat it out in your helmet on reflex.

You finished in 8th gaining 1 point for the team who congratulated you. You stayed in the car as you pulled into the garage for a minute before you stripped of in the garage down to tank top and your underwear. You sat on the cold garage floor, head in your hands as you panted, looking for breath.

A team member brought an orange juice up to you, tapping you on the shoulder to which you shake there hand and thank them for the gesture.

You sip it slowly, not wanting to gag like you had before.

"How you doing sweetheart" Mike comes up to you, everyone in the garage had reported to him, how red and beat up you look coming out the car. You look at him and nod.

"It's always been harder for me" you laugh looking up at him wiping the sweat from your forehead before it falls down into your eye.

"What do you mean?" he asks crouching down so he's at a similar level to you.

"I mean, you've probably never checked my medical papers right. And women struggle with heat more than men anyway but my body doesn't regulate its temperate that well... so I've always struggled with being hot in the car but this is next level" you sigh to him.

"Are you going to be okay to race. We can get Drugovich to fill" Mike says concern filling his face as he can tell your struggling from the speech pattern and labored breathing.

"No i promise I'll be okay and I'll bring us home points" you smile.

I'm going to go congratulate Oscar on his Sprint win. You smile before holding you hand out for help. He helps you up and you trot over to Mclaren pulling the taller male into a hug the minute you see him.

"You did amazingly Ozzie" you grin, still holding onto him.

"Hey! I did well as well" Lando interrupts and you roll you eyes before turning to look at the man baby behind you.

"Yes yes, well done on P3 Lando Norris" you grin pulling him towards you and hugging him. He hugs you back before lifting you and squeezing you making you groan at the harshly shown affection that you were used too.

"How you feeling about tomorrow starting P4?"

"I'm hoping for a podium with my boys" you grin, pulling them both in, one arm round each of them.

"With us starting P6 and P10. I doubt that" Oscar groans, knowing he stuffed up Qualifying the other day, along with his team mate.

"Never say never. Tomorrow's going to be a hard race for everyone"

Sunday was the day that everyone struggled as you'd said.

Max actually ended up crashing out, and after coming back on the track, the car didn't have the pace it had from the start of the weekend.

"Come on Y/N, win in rookie season will look amazing. Keep holding. You've got Oscar behind 2.3 seconds gaining and Lando behind him. 3 laps left" you engineer inform.

"Guys the heat's really getting to me" you voice but its barley recognizable through the radio.

"Not long left, just push until the end" the engineer says but his voice waivers, he could tell you were struggling but unlike Logan who retired early on, lap 40 and with only three laps left there was no point especially when you were this close to a win.

"I - I know" you waiver, you control the car, speeding up trying to get this done as quickly as possible.

Martin Bundle - AND IN HER ROOKIE SEASON Y/N Y/L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2023 QATAR GRAND PRIX

"Guy's I need to get out this car now" you cry, tears forming in your eyes.

"Okay copy that"

"I cant move" you cry, the only thing that was able to move from your body was your hands which were shaking.

"We're sending pit crew to help" your engineer says. You see race marhsalls come up to your car, where Oscar and Land pull up alongside you. They both jump out hugging their team who were stood their waiting for them both. They turn to congratulate you thinking you'd be there next to them with the Aston Martin team but see you still sat in the car.

"Oh my god, she's shaking" Oscar says looking closer at you.

"She's in shock, from the heat" Lando says running over Oscar behind him.

"Y/N hey hey hey. Its okay its okay" Lando says flicking up your visor so he could see you. He honestly could have cried at the sight. He saw you looking so exhausted and out of it, the tears in you eyes and the sweat underneath them mixed.

"Come on baby lets get you out" Oscar voices, pulling Lando back by the shoulder and leaning down into the car, putting his arms under your knees and the other behind your back before lifting and pulling you out the car.

"Can we get a cold towel over here" Lando shouts which makes your head dizzy. Oscar sits you on the car wheel, pulling your helmet off, and then your balaclava. You were extremely red in the face but he still thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

So did Lando, he had for a while, and he would always flirt with you when you were the reserve Aston Martin driver. But he cared for you, and seeing you like this pulled at his heart strings.

"You did so well today darling" he compliments. He pulls back your hair that was sticking to your face, doing it in a low bun so it wasn't tight but was out of your face and off your neck.

Lando unzips your race suit, pulling it down off your shoulders so your in your fireproof top before laying the cooling towel around you neck.

"Just breath" he smiles at you handing you and Oscar an icy bottle of water than was handed to him by his team. They got you to the cool down room where you sat on the floor with your back against the wall and your cheek resting on the cold marble.

"Great race guys. Said I'd have a podium with my... my boys" you smile, before you feel the urge to throw up. You get on your knees grabbing the bin before spilling the food you'd eaten before the race into the bin. Oscar sits next to you rubbing your back.

"Come on lets go get weighed" Lando sighs. Oscar goes first, the you and Lando watches the figure seeing you'd lost a whole 6 kilograms which meant that you'd lost 9 over the whole weekend. He, Oscar and Logan would all have to go out for a big meal to all put the weight back on.

The podium was amazing, first place and sharing a podium with Lando and Oscar had never felt better. It was a shorter podium as they wanted all of you to seek medical attention. You were eventually declared to have heatstroke and were forced on home rest in a nice a/c-ed room and lost of Peach Ice Tea's.

One thing for sure was you never wanted to race in Qatar as this time of the year again.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #landoscar #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #lando norris x y/n

[vivwritesfics]

Imagine norstappen with single mom reader and interactions with her son 🥲

I wanna have their baby so bad

Her hand rested on her back as she waddled into the room. She was heavily pregnant, and those at fault were currently sat on the floor, playing with her son.

"Momma!" Cameron L/N called as he went running towards his mother. "Lando stole my lego car," he mumbled, sniffling.

She patted Camerons head. Before she was pregnant, she would have picked him up and kissed his face, but she couldn't do more than just pat. "Lando," she said, looking at her boyfriend with her eyebrow raised.

Lando couldn't help but smile as he rolled his eyes. He grabbed the little lego car from behind him and handed it back to Cameron, who grinned and immediately went back to playing with it.

Lando stood and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. "How's Lando junior?" He asked as he walked her over to the couch.

"Or Max junior!" Called her other boyfriend as he walked into the room.

She rolled her eyes. "Baby Norstappen is fine," she answered. "But I thought you guys were taking Cam to the zoo today."

All three of them looked down at little Cameron. He wasn't Max or Lando's son, but they loved him like he was. Max walked over and scooped Cameron up from the floor, placing him on his hip. "What do you say, little man? Want to go to the zoo?"

Cameron nodded his head, resting it on Maxs shoulder.

Saying goodbye to their girlfriend, Max and Lando got Cameron into his car seat and set off for the zoo.

Cameron loved the zoo. But he only looked at each animal for five minutes before moving on. Lando and Max spoilt him, and he was bought an ice cream at every consessions stand.

His favourite was the bears, especially when Lando picked him up and put him on his shoulders. He paraded Cameron around like that until they stopped for lunch.

At the end of their trip Max bought Cameron a soft toy. He picked out a monkey teddy. "Can we get one for baby norstappen?" He asked as he continued to browse the toys.

"What do we think baby Norstappen would like?" Lando asked him as he picked up a lemur toy.

"Lion, definitely," answered Max.

"Yeah, Lando! Let's get a lion lime max!" Cheered Cameron. They got baby norstappen a lion teddy and named it max.

#f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader smut #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #norstappen #norstappen imagine #norstappen x reader

[theemporium]

just a little idea for a wee smut blurb:

lando getting to fuck you without a condom for the first time and him just being so overwhelmed by the feeling 😩

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Lando Norris was a pretty guy.

There were plenty of words to compliment his looks. He was beautiful when he smiled, those big smiles that take over his face and make his eyes crinkle. He was hot, especially in the relentless photo dumps he posted innocently like he didn’t know what they did to people. He was handsome, all dressed up in those suits he wears to fancy events that fit him like a glove. He was gorgeous, especially when he climbed out of the car after a good race and threw himself onto his team.

But your favourite word to describe your boyfriend was pretty.

And, fuck, you didn’t think he ever looked as pretty as he does right now.

He was above you, one arm supporting his body weight and the other squeezing your hip as his thumb traced over your skin. His curls were a mess from you running your hands through it, his cheeks were flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. But it was his eyes.

It was his eyes that fucking got you.

Wide and glossy and eager and so full of emotion as he slid into you, as he guided his cock inside you—no barriers, nothing. Just him and you and, fuck, it just felt so overwhelming.

“Fuck,” it was a low and guttural groan as he pushed inside, as he felt your walls squeeze aroukd every inch of him until your hips were pressed together.

And then you clenched around him and he fucking whined.

“Shit, baby, that feels—” A choked noise left his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good. Fuck, we can’t ever go back. Never again.”

“Lando—”

“God, baby,” and he was rambling now, you knew as much. But you couldn’t help but let his words wash over you, your stomach twisting in desire as his head dropped to your shoulder as he pressed one, two, three kisses against your skin. “Feel fucking perfect, like fucking heaven.”

The noise that left your lips sounded like something straight out of a porno as he pulled out, feeling every inch of his cock slide out before he thrusted back in with a noise of appreciation.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up,” he groaned against your neck, his hips moving as his hand moved down, wrapping around your knee and hooking your leg over his waist as he continued to fuck you deeper. “Best fucking thing you’ve ever let me do, baby.”

“Oh shit,” you whined, your nails digging into the skin of his back as he let out a hiss. “Lando—”

“Atta girl,” he groaned, each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips. “Say my fucking name for me, baby. Want everyone to hear who’s fucking you.”

.

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #formula one smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 smut

[urhoneycombwitch]

I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k 

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

[illyrianbitch]

Worth It

Pairing: Reader x Bat Boys

Summary: It can be hard to remember why you’ve put up with your best friends for centuries-- until they remind you why they're worth it.

Warnings: irritation cause of males? perhaps? friendship fluff. boys being boys aka bat boys are immature male dummies and reader is fed up.

Word Count: 3.4k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“Are you guys idiots?”

Your voice was a loud bellow as you made your way into Rhysand’s office. From the look on your face, the three males quickly realized that their dirty little secret had been exposed– something that they were all expecting, Azriel being the first to mention that they hadn’t done a great job at hiding it. 

Sure, it was a silly idea for them to keep an ancient cursed object. Rhysand didn’t think it was real, when Cassian came running home and claiming he won it in a bet. The person seemed awfully enthusiastic to get rid of it, Cass had said, told me that it would change my life forever. Weird guy. It only took one interaction for Azriel’s shadows to instantly skitter from the small gold thing, whispering into Azriel’s ears like scared children. Cursed, old, evil, run. 

Rhysand was going to tell you that they kept it, to get a better idea of it, that's all, and that it just so happened to be sitting on the table near your room. He was. At least, he planned on it.

It was Cassian who made the first move, leaning to the side and lowering his head slightly to Rhysand. “This feels like a trick question,” he attempted to whisper, but the sound was loud enough to carry through the room.

You ignored him, instead glaring at the violet eyes that held your gaze. 

“You didn’t think to tell me about something this dangerous?”

“I just thought-”

“Thought what?” You asked him, mouth agape, “That you’d just lie to me about living with a deadly object?”

“We didn’t lie, we just didn’t tell you,” Cassian clarified innocently. He regretted his input once your stare met his and he quickly muttered out a small apology, looking to become as small as he could make his large form to be. 

“And thats better?”

Rhysand let out a deep breath. 

“Y/n, just calm down.”

Your head snapped to face him at a force that made him question how you hadn’t broken it. Rhysand’s eyes widened as they met yours, a sense of rage now flickering in your gaze. Azriel instantly grimaced at the words of his brother, his gaze meeting Cassian’s, whose eyes were wide as his mouth formed a small “oh.” Both males took a cautionary step backwards.

“Calm down?” you repeated, slowly stalking towards Rhysand with an icy calmness that made him instantly shrink.

“Well,” he started putting one palm out towards you, “I just mean that we should sit down and think rationally about this.”

“Think rationally?”

Rhysand looked over his shoulders in an attempt to seek some backup, but Cassian averted his gaze and Azriel simply shook his head. You’ve done it now, was what Azriel’s gaze seemed to say. His shadows curled around him, slithering up his body until they were peeking over his shoulders, alert and ready to watch— in amusement, it would seem.

Rhys nervously laughed.

“Can we start over?”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Compared to the others, your bedroom was extremely large, adorned with its own fireplace and seating area. But with the three Illyrian males standing around you, it felt quite cramped. You watched as they wandered around your room, picking up your stuff and throwing it to each other. This was your fault, of course, since you’d specifically asked for them to come. 

“Guys,” you said, “can we focus, please.”

The three males turned around to face you, all looking at you with wide stares and raised brows, as if they had been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. 

“Right,” Rhysand said as he balanced a small porcelain heart in his hand, a Solstice gift from Mor. He quickly glanced down at the object, eyes widening slightly before he turned his head and threw it in the air, effectively tossing it off to Cassian, who caught it with parted lips. 

“Dude.” 

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you walked forward.“Give me that,” you said as you ripped the item out of the males large, calloused hands. 

“I need one of you to help me make Landon jealous.” 

“Not it,” Rhys said, the words quickly tumbling out of his mouth as his hands flew up in surrender.

You stared at him blankly, your lips forming into a tight line.

“What?”

The line quickly turned into a scowl as you held his stare, a look of innocence on his beautiful features. 

“Am I truly that hideous you don’t want to help me out?”

“Oh, please,” Rhysand said with a dramatic scoff, “You know you’re hot. We know you’re hot. But It’s not my fault you can’t flirt normally. This is a perfect night for me to get some, so, I can’t.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms carefully, the porcelain heart safely in your grasp.

“Were the two guys from last night not enough?”

Instantly, a smug grin found its way onto Rhysand’s face. 

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, his voice low and sultry. A sense of pride clung to him. “I’m a growing male, I have a healthy appetite.”

From beside him, Cassian nodded with a grin, putting his knuckles out for Rhys to give him a fist bump. Azriel simply let out a small laugh and shook his head, eyes trained on you as you grimaced, your nose crinkled with a frown.

“You make it sound like you're eating them.”

Somehow, the grin grew, his pearly white teeth gleaming at you.

“Aren’t I?”

“You’re gross,” you responded, “I don’t want your help anyways.”

Rhysand let his mouth fall open in feign offense and you seized the moment to flip him off– a vulgar gesture that he instantly returned. Azriel and Cassian exchanged a glance.

“I got you, Y/n,” Cass finally said, walking up to you to wrap his arm around your shoulder. He pulled you into his embrace, looking down at you with a large, wolfish grin. You held his eyes for a moment, thinking about how well Cassian fit into your plans. A subtle sense of doubt crept into you, and once Cassian wiggled his eyebrows, you were done for. Your eyes instantly flickered to the last of your best friends.

“Az?”  Your voice was a soft plea, accompanied by a small, unsure smile that had Azriel sigh in defeat.

Cassian scoffed, pulling apart from you in an effort to see your entire face. “What? Why him?”

You gave a sheepish smile, your gaze bouncing between the three males before settling on him once more. “I love you, Cassian, but you won’t make him jealous.”

“And why not?”

It was Azriel who responded with a small snicker, “Because you’re easy.” 

Cassian’s mouth was open in shock as he registered the statement, his eyelids falling in soft blinks before he let out another scoff. 

“Well now I’m offended.”

“Don’t be,” Rhys said from across the room as he fell down on your couch, propping up his legs on the arms of it. “It means you’ve got a good game. Think about how many people you’ve fucked thats gotten you such a title. I mean the amount of puss-”

You let out a loud groan, pushing Cassian off you with a soft shove.

“Oh my Gods, we get it. You guys are slutty. Can we get back to me now? Please?” 

Your words were only met with a round of laughter. 

“And get your dirty shoes off my couch, Rhys.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“What the fuck happened to my cake?” You seethed, the words coming out bitter and sharp. The door slammed behind you as it collided with the wall, the impact of your entrance causing a dent in the surface. 

The boys visibly recoiled, Cassian flinching at the roughness of your voice, a voice that was usually comforting and soft. The three males exchanged wary glances, and then Rhysand was lifting his chin.

“I-” he started, only to be interrupted by a cough from Cassian, “We don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“My powdered sugar pound cake, Rhysand. I know you guys did something. Where is it? Did you eat it? Destroy it?”

Another beat of silence. You were sure your teeth were bound to break with the force of your clenched jaw, your teeth gritting harder with every minute spent looking at their avoiding eyes. 

“We didn’t touch your cake, Y/n.” 

You glared at Rhys, the apparent dedicated spokesmen of the three, and let out a harsh exhale. 

“There is powdered sugar on your hands!” You said, shoving an accusatory finger at them. "Right now!”

The males all simultaneously looked down at their hands, Cassian gasping in feign surprise– a sound so exaggerated you resisted the urge to hit him on the side of the head for the act alone. Rhysand was a bit more subtle, bringing his hands up to his face, examining them, and then tossing a casual shrug your way.

“This is completely unrelated powdered sugar.”

With a flare of your nostrils, you turned your head to face Azriel, who met your gaze with a small smirk on his face, of all things.

“And what's your excuse, Az?”

He shook his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you admit you guys ate it?”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

You clenched your hands into fists, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms. 

“Yes you did.”

Azriel’s eyebrow quirked, and then he was narrowing his eyes at you.

“Did I?”

“Yeah, Y/n, did he?” Cassian echoed, putting his hands on his hips.

Your nostrils flared as your gaze bounced between the three males. You wanted to take all three of their heads and knock them together, hope that one of them would produce a module of maturity. 

They braced themselves for an outburst, for you to run up to one of them and hit them in the face, if anything, but nothing came. Instead you looked away and shook your head. 

“Fuck you, guys. You suck. Gods.”

And you left. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You came to a halt as you turned the corner, now staring into the living room where your best friends stood shirtless next to one another, a determined look on their faces.

"What the hell are you guys doing?"

Rhys looked up with a grin. "We're settling a debate," he said, gesturing to the tape measure in his grip. "Gonna find out who's got the biggest wingspan."

You raised an eyebrow, bringing your finger up to your lips as you laughed.

"Want to place a bet?" Azriel said as he rolled his back, a small smirk on his lips.

Cassian flexed his wings behind him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he shook loose pieces of hair out of his face. "I'm pretty sure it's me," he boasted.

Rhys shook his head, his wings unfolding slightly as he stood up taller. "Not a chance," he countered. "I think you'll find mine's larger."

"What does wingspan really determine?" You asked incredulously.

You watched as all three males blinked, staring at you as if you had spoken in a tongue different than your own.

"Uh," Cass said, lifting a finger, "Absolutely everything, my dear, Y/n."

You rolled your eyes at him, but began walking to them in spite of yourself. When you found yourself in front of Rhysand, you looked up and put your palm out.

Rhys frowned, eyebrows furrowing at the outstretched hand.

"Well?" You said, raising your eyebrows. "For a proper assessment, you need a fair judge."

He grinned, enthusiastically shoving the tape measure into your palm.

"Alright boys," Rhys said, turning around to face his brothers, stretching his hands out as his wings extended behind him-- almost hitting you in the face. "Let's settle this."

One by one, your friends approached you, Rhysand with a grin, Azriel with a smirk, shadows pointed at the edge of his wings, and Cassian with a cheeky wink.

After all three had been measured, you stepped back, trying to hide your grin. "Looks like we have a winner."

Cassian puffed out his chest triumphantly. "I knew it!"

You raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Azriel's wingspan is slightly larger."

Cassian's face fell as Az let out a loud laugh in victory, shadows surrounding Cass like a mocking audience. He swatted them away with his hands.

Rhys chuckled, clapping Cassian on the back. "Looks like you'll have to concede this one, Cass. Being last place isn't so bad."

Cassian frowned. "Azriel cheated! His shadows held his wings up, I swear."

A snicker in response.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a sore loser."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

"Why do you look like that?"

You gasped in surprise, your hand flying to your heart as you turned to the source of the voice. Cassian stood in your doorway, casually leaning against the doorframe as he bit into an apple.

"Cassian!" You scolded, pushing your hair off your shoulder as you walked towards him. "You can't just come into my room and scare me like that!"

"Why not?" He said, mouth filled to brim with chewed apple bits.

You stared at his mouth with a frown, lifting your hand so that your nail could slightly scrape off a piece stuck to the stubble on his chin. Cassian gave you a smile as he finished chewing, wiping off his mouth with his free hand.

"Gross," you muttered. You shook off your hand before looking at him again, "And you just can't."

"Well I'm here, so, seems like I can."

You rolled your eyes, but Cass only smiled at the reaction.

"So why are you dressed like that?"

You frowned. "Like what?"

"Good. Like, hot.”

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned, your head tilting to the side as you gave him a blank stare "You sure know how to make me feel confident."

Cassian let out a laugh, placing a soft, large hand on your forearm. "No, no, you always look good. But where ya going?"

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but before you could respond, Rhys appeared behind Cassian, curiosity written all over his face.

"What's happening?" He said as walked in, throwing himself onto your bed. He frowned as his eyes scanned you. "You look pretty. What's going on?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you were about to have an audience.

"Guys, get out," you said firmly. "I'm going on a date."

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a quick glance before both of the males broke out into large grins.

"Ooooh, a date?" Cassian teased, brushing past you to sit next to Rhysand on your bed.

"Yes, now get out."

You walked towards them, attempting to grab their hands and pull them up with the sheer force of will. Between your futile attempts, Azriel's voice sounded from the doorway. "What are we all doing in your room?"

You let out a loud groan. "Where do you guys keep coming from?"

You turned around to face him, hands on your hips and an annoyed frown on your lips. Just as his brothers did, Azriel's eyes scanned your appearance.

"You look good," he said. His shadows curled around his body, a few around his ear as the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You're going on a date?"

From behind you, Cassian and Rhysand broke out into a sound that you could only describe as a giggle, the grown males turning to one another to make theatrical kissing sounds.

"You guys are so annoying. Get out."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

There was a soft knock at your door.

You groaned, slipping yourself further into your covers.

The knock came once more and you closed your eyes, hitting the back of your head against your pillow. "Leave me alone!"

Much to your dismay, your protest was met with the sound of your door opening and a heavy set of footsteps approaching your bed. It only took a few seconds before your beige covers were being lifted off your face. You squinted at the light that met your eyes.

"Well, look who's alive."

You scowled as your eyes met Rhysand's violet ones, a large smile on his face as he hovered over you. There was a softness in his eyes that made you feel guilty for the expression, and the scowl quickly turned into a small frown.

As you pulled yourself upright, Rhysand made himself comfortable at the edge of your bed. "How you feeling?"

Your knew your eyes were puffy and sensitive from the crying you'd done all night. You were grateful it was Rhysand who sat in front of you, someone you weren't embarrassed to be seen in such a state with.

"I just got cheated on,” you murmured, rubbing your face with your hands. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

He sighed, a small frown on his lips as he urged you to scoot farther into the bed, making room for him to situate himself next to you. As he maneuvered, you caught sight of your bedside table, now decorated with a large bouquet of multicolored flowers, delicately wrapped in with a white bow. Next to it sat a small bear, its fur a white and blue pattern that perfectly matched that of the ceramic heart gifted to you from Mor.

"Are those for me?"

Rhysand quickly glanced over before giving you a nod.

"Yeah," he said, "The florist gave me a whole explanation for every flower. I told her that I wanted to g-"

Rhys stopped as he noticed your staring, eyes wide as you looked at him, lips curled down. "What?" he asked.

You felt your lip quiver, a small burn in your chest as you looked at him. Realization quickly flickered in his eyes--- realization that you were about to start sobbing.

"Don't make it a thing," Rhys said, staring at you blankly. But as your eyes began to well with tears, his facade quickly broke and he sighed, putting an arm around you and pulling you in. "I had to take care of my best girl, okay?"

Your nose tickled as the corners of your eyesight became blurry, a sudden pool of tears now at the corners of your eyes. "Thank you," you told him, as you burrowed yourself further into his embrace.

You closed your eyes, taking a moment to bathe in the comfortable silence. But a second quickly passed, and both you and Rhysand jerked at the sound of your door slamming into the wall.

"I'm here!" Cassian's voice boomed.

You blinked at the sight in front of you, Cassian's hair messily tied together atop of his head, his hands barely containing a pile of food assortments. His chin rested against 2 tubs of ice cream haphazardly stacked on top one another, his palms desperately grabbing onto a variety of chocolates, candies, bags of chips, and fruits.

His eyes met yours, instantly softening at your appearance. He gave you a smile. "Hey, beautiful. Nice to see ya."

"What you got there, Cass?" Rhys said, his head tilting as he closely scanned the pile his brother clutched to his chest.

"I got everything," he responded, eyes darting between you and Rhys. They settled on you as he continued, "I didn't know what you'd want."

You let out a laugh, your cheeks suddenly straining from the impact of your smile. Your face fell as you examined his haul, your brows furrowing as you pointed to a small plastic bag.

"Are those... pads?"

Cassian attempted to look down, but the ice cream containers beneath his chin constricted his movements. "I'm not sure, the lady at the store said you probably needed them with everything I was buying."

Rhysand let out a snort at this, his hand affectionately rubbing up and down your bicep. You smiled as Cassian shuffled to your couch, carefully dropping the ideas on your cushions, and then moving to place the rest on the table.

"Hey," you said with a frown, "Wheres Az?"

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance.

"What?" You asked, looking between the two males. "Where is he?"

Cassian gave you a sheepish smile and then Rhys was laughing, a deep sound that you felt as his chest moved beneath you.

"Where do you think? He's beating the shit out of Landon."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

oh how nice it would be to live with the batboys with the vibes of new girl 😌 (until they do something stupid)

a/n: i’m slowly getting all my drafts and requests out 🫶🏻

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader fluff #azriel x reader fluff #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader fluff #batboys x you #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #azriel fanfic #cassian fanfic #rhysand fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction

[white-poppie]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ JJK DADS! ⎯ ft. jjk men: (Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji)

SYNOPSIS: Cute incidences of them being fatherly <3

A/N: I gave no names to the kids so you guys can imagine whatever you wanna except Toji cause we have baby Megumi :) Is it obvious that Nanami is my absolute favourite?? <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

The two of you are woken up by the faint cries of your baby girl in the next room.

You sigh and rest your arm over your eyes, tired from the entire day of tending to her, "She just slept..." You mumble exhausted and begrudgingly about to get up.

"Stay in the bed, let me take care of her." Gojo murmurs. The sheets rustle as he gets up and walks towards your baby's room, gently picking up the little girl in his arms. She's always so tiny in his arms, he's afraid of holding too tight. Her little fingers that curl around his--she's the prettiest thing in the world (along with her mama of course.)

"What's wrong, baby ?" He whispers, cradling her to his chest as checks her temperature, and pats her diaper; everything seems to be okay. She's not hungry because she had milk just a little while ago.

Satoru sighs and rubs his thumb over her chubby cheeks, wiping the tears that rolled down her eyes, it broke his heart to see his baby girl cry.

Satoru walks to your bedroom with her in his arms and looks at you. "I checked her diaper and she doesn't have a temperature." He murmurs and you nod while playing on the bed.

"She's probably just restless." You reply. "Rocking her while singing works." you say and his eyes soften as he looks at the little bundle of joy in his arms.

His brain racks through the records of all the lullabies he knows until he figures the best one. He pouts and looks back at you, "Don't laugh at me, alright?" he mumbles and you chuckle with a nod.

Gojo clears his throat and starts singing, its off-key, a little hoarse and you have to bite you lips to prevent from laughing out. Surprisingly her cries start to stifle, simmering into soft sniffles as he continues to sing till eventually they stop completely and so does Satoru's comical singing.

You can't help but aww at the way Satoru looks at her, cerulean eyes so full of love, so tender that you could melt. His forehead leaning against hers, "She's so pretty," he says for the nth time in today only, his voice carrying the same amount of warmth and affection each time he says it.

"Our little baby," he mumbles fondly.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“Ouch” Geto groaned as his son tugged on his hair while trying to braid it with Nanako and Mimiko.

“Easy champ-“ he scrunched his nose as he looked over at his older adoptive daughters who just shrugged and giggled.

“Why do I need three hair dressers for my hair?" he sighs and looks over at you who is calmly scrolling on your phone while he gets tortured.

"They like your hair a lot." you smile, clicking a picking of the unruly braids your toddler tied up.

Getou chuckles and picks up the boy at which the little boy whines, his little feet kicking around in the air before he plops down on his lap with a little pout.

"Dada, hair." he sniffles in his cute baby voice at which getou chuckles.

"Sorry to break it to you buddy but we are already removing 'hair-dresser' from your future career list." he sighs, making the twins laugh.

"No hair?" the boy confirms with a little pout and Getou shakes his head. "No hair," he replies back.

The kid shimmies around in his lap, asking to be put down, Getou sighs and puts the boy down, before he sprints, his chubby feet making a little 'thap thap' sound as they hit against the marble flooring.

"Where is he running off to?" Mimiko asks.

"He's gone to your room, let me go check what he is up to," you say as you follow him behind to the twins' room.

You walk into the room, only to find the little boy picking up the little bow clip on the girls' dresser and you smile; immediately understanding what goes on in the two-year-old's mind.

He runs back and stands with the clip in front of Getou, Nanako and Mimiko.

"Hey, that's mine!" Nanako exclaims and Haru just laughs, gesturing his dad to bend down a little and Getou does what the boy asked for. Haru puts the clip right on his front hair and grins proudly.

"Pretty!" He smiles, causing all four of you to erupt into chuckles.

The boy tilts his head and looks back at you, "Truck-clip." He mumbles and chuckles.

"You want a clip with a truck on it?" You ask and he nods, drawing another laugh from Getou.

"You are such a peculiar kid." He says, smiling fondly with the bow-clip still on his head.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

You had just returned from a long day at work, your meetings stretched a little longer than you had assumed, so you called Nanami asked him to pick your daughter up from kindergarten.

It was 8 right now. You sighed and removed your shoes, walking in.

"I'm home." you murmur as you walk into the living area.

"Mama!" your little girl exclaimed and you smiled before your eyes widened as you took in the scene.

Your husband and daughter sat on her pink table set with Kento sitting down on the floor, crisscrossed, a plastic teacup in his hand. Around the table are many of her stuffed toys, each having a cup of their own.

Kento's nails are messily painted pink with nail polish and a tiara on his head. Your daughter wearing her tinted kid-safe lip balm in an unruly manner, a beaded necklace and bracelets adorning her and finally a tiara on her for a finishing touch.

"Welcome home honey," Nanami says with a sigh, scratching his head with the empty tea cup.

"Daddy! You'll spill the tea!" Your daughter exclaims and your husband obediently keeps the tea cup back on the saucer.

"Sorry princess." He says with a smile and you can't help but laugh.

"Mama, join us!" she says and you nod, sitting beside Kento as she fetches a tea cup and saucer for you and you bow in respect.

"Thank you, princess." You smile. "So, what's the storyline?" you inquire.

"I am the princess of a castle and daddy is the king of another castle, can be...the stable guy." She says and your jaw drops. kento bites his lip to prevent himself from laughing.

"Why am I dealing with horses?" you ask offended.

"Because I have only two crowns." She justifies and you sigh before you feel a crown being placed on your head. You look over at Kento as he fixes it on your hair.

"Doesn't mommy look prettier with the crown?" he says, his deep voice sending butterflies in your stomach. "I can be the loyal servant instead." He says and looks back at his daughter with a soft smile.

"You are right, mama looks better in the crown," she says and fetches the teapot, pouring imaginary tea into your pot.

"Thank you, my princess." You say, taking a sip of the imaginary tea as you shift closer to Kento, your shoulders touching together and he smiles, looking down as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

"Daddy and Mama are in love!" Your daughter says with a toothy grin and you snort.

"At this rate, you might just get a sibling before the tea party finishes," Nanami says, squeezing your waist.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

"Why did Mom even marry you anyway?" Megumi asks Toji who is sitting crisscrossed on the couch next to the 5-year-old, munching on the bowl of popcorn him and Megumi are sharing.

"Don't you think you talk too much?" Toji asks, dusting of his hands as he sighs and looks at the kid. "Fine I'll pause my movie." He says giving up. Megumi had been asking him to put on a movie of his choice for the past 5 minutes. Toji is the one who is supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around!

"What do you want to watch then?" he grumbles, looking annoyed.

"Zootopia." Megumi says almost proudly and Toji nods with a groan, putting on the movie.

Toji leans back as he is forced to watch another kids movie, his hand fetching for some more popcorn before his large rugged hand is met with a tiny soft one. Toji looks over and sees Megumi looking at the TV while trying to fetch for the popcorn, touching everywhere but the popcorn bowl.

Toji smirks and picks up a fistful in his hand as he holds his hand close to Megumi. Megumi looks at his father, confused for a second before he hesitantly takes a piece.

"You need to eat more if you want to grow taller, If you are any shorter than 6 feet 2, I won't claim you as my son in a few years." He says as he keeps holding the popcorn in his hand, his arms bulked up enough to do this for hours end with ease.

"This movie is not that dogshit," Toji says as he watches the weird animal movie.

"Stop swearing in front of me." Megumi whines and Toji just smirks, ruffling his head with his other arm.

"You are growing up too fast for your own good."

You come back home a few hours later from your gathering, half expecting the house to be on fire, but to your surprise its oddly quiet.

You walk into the living room and you see an empty bowl of popcorn on the table and Megumi laying on his father as Toji's arms were draped around him protectively.

You sigh and let out a soft smile. You are home.

© white-poppie 2024. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

— JUJUTSU KAISEN - Fanfictions

﹒Taglist   ﹒Let me know if the links don't work and you wanna be added to the taglist <3

TAGLIST: @amplsblog @kristinecharmm @minnaaveira @ange111 @dlwlrmas-world @shenz @khaleesihavilliard @webawee @he4rts444mi @notasaintsoul @kunaglazer @httpshujii

MY NOVEL HAVE BEEN PUBLISHED!!!! CHECK IT OUT!!! “Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!!

#white poppie🌼 #⎯𝒿𝒿𝓀⋆ #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk as dads #jjk!dads #jujutsu kaisen as dads #dad!au #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo fluff #geto fluff #toji fluff #nanami fluff #gojo x you #nanami x you #getou x reader #getou x you #geto x you #toji x you #jjk drabbles

[sturnsbabie]

RUINED- N.DOE,C.STURNIOLO,M.STURNIOLO

pairing: nate x reader x chris x reader x matt

summary: in which nate and reader are friends with benefits and chris asks nate if they both can ruin her at the sametime and they do but matt walks in on them.

warnings:swearing,f!recieving,m!recieving,rough!dom nate,rough!dom chris,soft!dom matt,degrading,slapping,praising,p in v, orgasm denial,PURE FILTH.

i was currently sitting on the couch inbetween nate and chris. we were watching some random horror movie. nate and chris werent paying attention at all but i was trying to focus on it. they kept giving eachother these looks that i couldn’t figure out. its like theyre planning something.

nate and i have been friends with benefits for the past three months now and we have only been sleeping with eachother and nobody else. nate was very possessive when it came to me even though we were just friends who fucked eachother like 24/7.

as i was trying to focus on the movie i felt nate lean in kissing all over my neck as i felt chris sneak his hand onto my inner thigh rubbing it.

“what are you guys doing?” i questioned as i was confused on why chris was touching me like that.

“let us both ruin you baby.” nate said as he grabbed my face making me look at him as i felt my legs starting to clench together at the thought of having them both at the sametime.

“we will make you feel so good princess.”he said as he smashed his lips onto mine kissing me sloppily as chris pushed my thighs apart starting to rub my soaked cunt thru my shorts.

“aww nate she’s already soaked just at the idea of us both ruining her.” chris said chuckling as he slid my shorts off.

nate pulled away from the kiss and looked at chris. “such a little fucking whore wanting us both to fuck you.”he said as he grabbed me by the throat.

“we both are gonna ruin that pretty little pussy of yours til you cant take it anymore.” he said as he smashed his lips back onto mine.

i felt chris slide my panties off as he got on his knees in front of my exposed cunt as nate and i were making out with his tounge exploring my mouth making me clench my thighs together.

chris grabbed my thighs opening them as he started to press soft kisses on my inner thighs making his way to my aching cunt.

i moaned into nates mouth as i felt chris attach his mouth to my pussy as he started to work his tounge around my clit.

nate started to run his hands up and down my body as he made out with me as my hands were gripping his hair as i felt chris insert two fingers into me the same time his mouth was working on my clit.

i pulled away from nate and i’s kiss as i threw my head back letting out a loud string of moans as i felt myself growing close to my orgasm as chris kept pumping his fingers in and out of me.

“gonna cum!”i moan out as i felt nate take my hoodie off of me leaving me fully exposed.

“not yet princess. we’re just getting started.” chris said as he pulled his fingers out of me and standing up as his boner was visible.

“get on all fucking fours baby.” nate said and i immediately did what he said.

nate pulled off his sweats lining himself up with me as chris sat infront of him sliding his sweats off.

suddenly nate slammed into me causing me to moan loudly as chris slid his dick into my mouth.

he hissed at the feeling of my mouth as he started to fuck himself into my mouth as nate was pounding into me.

“your mouth feels so fucking good” chris moaned as he was thrusting himself into my mouth making tears run down my cheeks at how hard he was going.

i started to clench around nate as i felt my orgasm start to grow closer.

“your such a fucking whore taking us both at the same time.” nate chuckled as he smacked my ass harshly a few times as he pulled out slamming himself back into me causing me to moan against chris’ dick which sent vibrations thru his body causing him to spill his seed down my throat.

“fuck y/n.”chris moaned as he threw his head back.

chris pulled out of my mouth and leaned down kissing me sloppily as nate was pounding into me slapping my ass a few more times.

“cum for me princess.”nate said as i felt him abuse my cervix was tip.

with that i felt myself clench around him as i coated his dick with my cum as i felt him shoot his load deep inside of me.

he fucked us both thru our highs before pulling out and switching places with chris.

“my turn.”chris said as i felt him brush his tip thru my folds before he pushed himself into me.

nate sat in front of me watching my face as chris pounded into me as he gave my ass a harsh slap and leaning down to pull my hair.

nate reached his hand to my face as he ran his finger over my lip before slapping my face chuckling. “such a fucking whore but you look so pretty getting fucked rightnow.”he said as he leant down pressing a kiss to my lips.

i was a moaning mess right now feeling so much pleasure and overstimulation as tears were running down my mascara stained cheeks.

“your pussy feels so fucking good”chris moaned as i felt him all the way deep inside me causing my legs start to shake at the sudden pressure.

“such a good girl taking me so well.” chris said as he suddenly pulled out causing me to whimper at the loss of contact.

“lay flat on your stomach for me baby.”chris said and i immediately did what he said.

“raise your hips a bit.” he said and i did what i was told.

with that i felt chris slide himself back into me the same time as nate slid his dick down my throat starting to thrust himself into my mouth as chris had my hands pinned behind my back with his hand as he thrusted deep inside of me.

this postion was new but it felt so good, i could feel every single inch and he was hitting all the right spots.

little did the girl know that there stood matt standing against the stairs that went down to chris’room and the garage watching her get absolutely ruined.

nate noticed matt though. he noticed how matt was staring at the girl like he was wanting a taste of her.

“wanna join?” nate asked matt.

at first matt declined but he gave it a second thought so now here he is with his dick now down her throat.

the girl never would of thought that this would ever happen. her getting fucked by nate matt and chris all at the same time.

the girl always thought that the three were attractive which was one of the reasons why her and nate became friends with benefits in the first place but also because he knows her body more then anyone. he knows what she likes,what makes her squirm under his touch, and what she doesnt like.

she had always been a part of the friend group because her and nate met first in middle school then it became her joining his friend group with the triplets as she got along with everyone very well so now here her and nate where visiting them in la just for her to get used by not only nate but matt and chris too.

so now here she was letting matt and chris both use her mouth and pussy at the same time while nate was watching her.

the poor girl was getting so tired not being able to form any words only being able to mumble or moan in response only being able to think about all three of their dicks like her life depended on being fucked by them.

she was so overstimulated now about to reach her nth orgasm of the night as matt was now behind her while chris was back in her mouth again for the second time that night.

nate didnt know what came over him he felt jealous watching this happen but he was also enjoying the sight of her getting fucked because at the end of the day she belonged to him.

nate and chris were both extremely rough with her and she enjoyed that. she was used to having it rough since nate is always rough with her majority of the time. matt on the otherhand was on the more sweet and gentle side and she was loving that because she was starting to get super tired to where she felt like she couldnt take it anymore.

“just cum one more time for matt baby then we can stop.” nate said as he noticed how fucked out she was.

matt was pounding into her while chris was spilling his seed down her throat for the second time that night.

“cum for me gorgeous.” matt said as he reached his hand underneath where we were connected as he rubbed my clit causing me to moan loudly at the feeling of the overstimulation.

i felt the knot in my stomach grow closer again for the nth time as i let myself cum all over matt coating his cock with my cum as i let out a loud moan.

he fucked me thru my high before he pulled out painting my ass with white stripes of his cum.

he grabbed his shirt and wiped off my ass as nate came over to me sliding his hoodie onto me as chris slid my shorts back onto me.

“you did so good princess.” nate said as he pressed a kiss to my lips as he held me in his arms.

“‘m sleepy.” i mumbled as he was rubbing my back.

“go to sleep princess.” he said as he cuddled me.

i was so wore out and all i could think of while drifting off to sleep was the thought of how they just ruined me.

taglist: @sturniololoves , @mattslovelygf , @smittensturniolos , @hauntedxchris , @jo-777 , @wurlibydominicfike , @meerkatzthings , @jnkvivi , @sturnzblog , @pinklittleflower , @sturnioloblogs , @mattslolita

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo imagine #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagines #nate doe smut #nate doe imagines #nate doe

[ataliagold]

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

#a stranger summer #stranger things fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

[obsessedduh]

genre: smut and fluff!!

cw: implied fem reader, overstimulation and sweet and silly sex. that's it!

side note: sorry, i haven't been as frequent as i used to, and decided to make this though i'm hella sick as an apology 😭. also got hella lazy to do a proof read so sorry if it's shit. OH AND THANK YOU SM FOR 800+ AND IN LIKE THREE MONTHS TOO!? FUCKING LOVE YOU LOT!! 😭😭

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MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

simon 'ghost' riley with a dorky wife who works at a zoo? like when you guys were on your first date and you told him you work with animals for a living, he was hooked, interested even. he literally felt like he wanted to buy a ring and propose to you there and then.

so when he comes home from work and you rush up to him and also hug him, saying how much you missed him. it shocks him. c'mon. you're dealing with a man who barely had affection in his childhood. of course he's happy, coming home to see his gorgeous fucking wife so happy to see him. it's batshit crazy to him how he even got the chance to marry a pretty thing like you.

it doesn't take long before you usher him onto the couch and give him his dinner and sit next to him, blabbering about what happened at work the same day. he just stares at you with a blank expression, causing you to wonder if you're talking too much. he notices how your face alters, and he looks back at his food and continues eating it, "so how's alina, she doin' ok?"

alina? the pregnant white tiger you mentioned a couple months ago? he remembered! you instantly perked up and started yapping again. it took everything in simon to not smile at your cuteness, he loves how cute you are. espically in the bedroom.

gosh how much he much loves your facial expressions when his cock abuses your poor pussy. staring at the way your pretty face contorts into a pleased expression when fingers runs up your thigh to your pussy to tease your clit. watching as his name falls out that pretty little mouth of yours. gawking as your wetness coats his length with a white ring.

you bite your lip, slowly becoming obsessed with simon's hypnotic touch. he leans down to capture your swollen and bitten lips into a sloppy kiss, touching intertwining in a heated kiss, one that has you moaning into the kiss like a desperate love-sick puppy.

he pulls away, a trail of spit running down your chin, proof of the kiss you shared. he thrusts his hips little faster, his cock stretching you ever so good. he ogles you as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl. you let out a drawn-out moan as you cover his cock with your currently pending orgasm. he fucks and praise you through it, grinning at the way your face scrunches up when you feel the overstimulation creeping up to you.

he doesn't stop though, still fucking you stupid. he thrusts into your pathetically soaked cunt. his tip bumping against your cervix. you whine from the painfully pleasuring sensation in your lower core. tears prickling up in your eyes.

"sh baby, don' cry. i know know... it's t'much, but you can take it, princess? can' you? yeah? there's my good girl, taking my cock s'well?" he coos in your ear, his words are as sweet as lullaby. the movement of his hips beginning to go incoherent, indicating he's gonna cum soon.

"gonna cum, love. wanna cum with me... yeah, i know you do. cmon cum with me, love." he again, coos in your ear, this time his voice is breathy with a slight rasp.

you blabber and moan out as you squirt around his length once again. your hands gripping desperately his arms to stabilise yourself when your thighs begin to shake and tremble. he buries his creamy white deep inside of you, groaning as your pussy milks him dry.

he slowly pulls out, his cock now flaccid and resting on your thigh. you both pant, tired from your session.

"hey, maybe if we're lucky, you could get pregnan' like alina, hm?"

"you're honestly such a dickhead simon."

"awww... c'mon, you know you love me."

you both laugh like high-school children and then he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

"let's get cleaned up, yeah?"

"sounds like a date."

he let's out another chuckle at your words. "mhm..."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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#🎀 — 𝑶𝑩𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost #ghost smut #cod ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n