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badger-tales · 10 days ago

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Just Friends// G.W x Reader

a/n: somehow someway I've become a George Weasley fanfiction account

request:

hiii!!! :)))

could you do a george weasley x reader?? where its their 6th year (they’ve been best friends since their first year along with fred and lee) and they go to the yule ball together as friends and use “to avoid going through the trouble of asking other people” as an excuse(but they like each other) while fred and lee are just like “whatever” and teasing george when the readers gone. they go to the yule ball and go through the night normally but its full of fluffy interactions! and in the end they find themselves out in the courtyard having a snowball fight alone, and george throws a snowball to the readers face so the reader pretends to be hurt to get him back. so she hits him with another snowball when hes all like “are you okay??” and she runs and he chases her and eventually grabs hold of her and theyre sort of just like staring at each other , UNTILLLL!!! they see that theyre under a mistletoe and george is like “well its bad luck if we dont right??? but if you dont want to its fine” and hes all jumbling and messing up his words then the reader just kisses him??? if not that totally fine!! thank youuu🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 also i love ur fics!!!

word count: 5.3k

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone walls of the Gryffindor common room. The rich, woody scent of burning logs filled the space, mingling with the faint hint of spiced cider from a nearby group of second-years playing Exploding Snap. Laughter and chatter wove through the air, wrapping around the room like a comforting, invisible blanket. The holiday spirit pulsed through the castle, buoyed by the anticipation of the Yule Ball just days away.

George Weasley lounged on a plush armchair near the fire, one leg dangling over the armrest in a way that seemed both careless and deliberate. His unruly red hair caught the firelight, each strand illuminated in a halo of copper and gold. The light accentuated the constellation of freckles scattered across his cheeks, and a grin played at his lips—a grin that spoke of mischief, warmth, and something more undefined.

On the thick, woven rug beside him, y/n sat cross-legged, her fingers absently turning the pages of a well-worn copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. The edges of the pages were soft from use, the spine creased with the familiarity of late-night study sessions. Yet, her eyes kept straying to George, drawn to the easy way he inhabited the space, the small quirks of his expression, the way his laughter seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the common room.

A slow smile tugged at her lips when he stretched and let out a dramatic, over-the-top yawn, his hand sweeping above his head before coming to rest on his chest as if he were an actor on stage. She bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a closed-lipped smile.

“You know,” George’s voice broke through her pretense, teasing and laced with mock seriousness, “if you keep pretending to read that, I’m going to start thinking it’s more interesting than my company.” He tilted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, the soft firelight casting a shadow that deepened the blue in his gaze.

She rolled her eyes, snapping the book shut with a decisive thud. The sound resonated between them, punctuated by the warmth of the fire and the laughter that rippled in the distance.

“Maybe it is,” she countered, smirk firmly in place, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. George’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, closing the small distance between them.

“Ouch, you wound me!” he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest in a performance that was almost believable. “Tell me then, oh wise one, who are you planning to dazzle at the Yule Ball?”

A snort of laughter escaped her as she reached out, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

“Dazzle? Please. I’m just trying to make it through the night without tripping over my own feet. Anyway, I’m going with you, remember?” Her voice softened, a slight flutter in her chest as she added, “Strictly as friends, so we don’t have to deal with the hassle of finding dates.”

George’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, the flicker of something unspoken passing over his features. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment, as if weighing the distance between what they were and what they might be. Then, just as quickly, the sparkle returned, and he gave a lopsided smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Right, strictly as friends. Merlin forbid we actually try to impress anyone, eh?”

The conversation hovered on the edge of something deeper, but before she could respond, a familiar duo bounded over, their presence an explosion of energy and sound. Fred, carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, wore his signature wide grin, eyes darting between George and Y/n with a knowing glint that promised trouble.

“Strictly as friends, you say?” Fred mimicked, raising an eyebrow with an exaggerated arch that nearly disappeared into his hairline. He handed one of the mugs to Lee, who appeared behind him, chuckling.

“Convenient, isn’t it?” Lee dropped into the chair beside George, sprawling as though he had just sat down to witness the punchline of a good joke. “I’m honestly shocked neither of you’s been swooped up yet. Hogwarts’ most eligible pranksters.”

George rolled his eyes, the tension from before dissolving as he shot a pointed look at Fred. “Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, Fred, maybe someone will take pity on you and agree to go.”

Fred gasped, clutching his chest with an exaggerated display of mock indignation. “Hey! I’m a catch!” He tossed a wink at Y/n, who finally let out a laugh, the warmth of it mixing with the fire’s crackle. Lee grinned, eyes darting between them as if trying to memorize the scene.

The laughter faded, settling into a gentle hum of contentment. George’s eyes found Y/n’s again, lingering a beat longer than he intended. The soft glow of the fire reflected in both their gazes, warming the space between them. This time, neither of them looked away, a silent acknowledgment shared that neither Fred’s teasing nor Lee’s jokes could break.

The common room buzzed around them, filled with holiday anticipation, but in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of them, sitting side by side by the fire, waiting for what was to come.

The warmth of the fire had faded, replaced by the cool embrace of night as the castle succumbed to silence. The dormitory was unusually quiet, a rare lull that made every creak and rustle more pronounced. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting long, pale ribbons across the stone floor and the edges of the four-poster beds. The soft, rhythmic snores of George’s roommates filled the space, punctuating the stillness, but George remained wide awake. His eyes were fixed on the dark canopy above, the fabric appearing almost black, an empty mirror of the jumble in his mind.

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound lost in the heavy silence, and shifted restlessly. The old wooden frame of the bed groaned softly as he swung his legs over the side, letting his feet touch the cold stone floor. The chill shot through him, biting and grounding at once. George leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled like an unwanted weight.

Images of her danced behind his closed eyelids—flashes of laughter shared between classes, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke animatedly about Quidditch tactics, the exasperated smile that always appeared after his worst jokes. Each memory was a small blaze, adding warmth and confusion in equal measure to the storm in his chest.

His fingers curled into fists at the edge of the mattress as he tried to make sense of it. For so many years, it had been easy between them. Their friendship was the one constant amidst the chaos of pranks, homework, and the unpredictable pulse of Hogwarts life. But now… now, that ease felt different, weighted with things unsaid.

A soft rustle from across the room pulled George from his thoughts. Fred stirred, rolling over with a sleepy mutter before propping himself up on one elbow. In the dim moonlight, his eyes, though half-lidded, were sharp with the keen awareness that came naturally to him.

“Pulling an all-nighter, are we?” Fred’s voice, low and slightly rough with sleep, cut through the quiet and made George jolt.

“Merlin, Fred,” George muttered, trying to shake off the surprise and the embarrassment that followed. “Go back to sleep.”

Fred sat up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he squinted at his brother.

“Can’t. Not when I’ve got you brooding like a lost Puffskein in the middle of the night.” He paused, letting a knowing smirk creep onto his face. “Let me guess. Our lovely just friend, who also happens to be your date for the Ball?”

“Shut it, Fred,” George snapped, but there was no real heat in his voice, only the defensive edge of someone caught in the middle of his own tangled thoughts. He felt the flush rise to his neck, unwelcome and unavoidable. He turned his head away, the pale shaft of moonlight casting a shadow across his face.

Fred’s smirk softened, the playful edge replaced with a kind of quiet understanding that only came out when it mattered most.

“Oh, come on, George. It’s obvious. To everyone. Even Lee’s noticed,” he said, his voice low enough to keep from waking the others but laced with the weight of truth.

“Noticed what?” George’s question came out too quickly, betraying his own unease. The room seemed to shrink, the quiet pressing in, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Fred’s eyes held an unusual seriousness as he leaned forward, arms crossed.

“That you look at her like she’s a Snitch you’ll never catch,” he said, each word cutting through George’s resistance. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know you.”

The admission sat heavily on George’s chest, an iron weight pressing against his ribs. He let out a long breath, eyes drifting to the narrow window. The grounds outside glistened in the moonlight, serene and untouched, in stark contrast to the unrest inside him. “I don’t want to ruin things, Fred. What if… what if I’m just seeing something that’s not there? She’s my best mate. What if saying something makes it all… weird?”

Fred’s smirk softened into a smile, genuine and stripped of his usual bravado. “Mate, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the two of you are already weird. Weirdly close, weirdly perfect for each other. And if you don’t do anything, you’ll regret it.”

The words settled like a spell, sparking something that George hadn’t let himself name. He remembered the way she had looked at him earlier that day, when they’d joked about the Ball. The slight hesitation before she spoke, the way her smile lingered as though holding back something more. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe the risk was worth it.

But still, the doubts whispered, coiling at the back of his mind. George clenched his jaw, shoving them aside for now. He couldn’t solve it here, not in the middle of the night, not with the quiet pressing around him like a shroud. But he’d see how the Yule Ball played out. Maybe, just maybe, the moment would come when the words that stuck in his throat found their way out.

With a sigh, George lay back down, the mattress shifting under his weight. The darkness above him seemed a little less oppressive now, edged with the silver glow of moonlight and the faint hum of hope. Sleep crept in slowly, and for the first time in a while, the thought of trying felt less like a gamble and more like something he owed to himself.

And with that flicker of determination, his eyes finally closed, surrendering to the quiet.

—

The Great Hall had been transformed into a breathtaking scene that seemed to step out of a dream, a winter wonderland alive with magic. Enchanted icicles hung like delicate chandeliers from the vaulted ceiling, catching the flicker of torches and glowing softly with an otherworldly light. Snowflakes, conjured with such precision that they looked as fragile as real ones, drifted slowly down, swirling and twirling in the warm air before dissolving just above the heads of the assembled students. The tall, frost-tipped trees that framed the room sparkled with twinkling lights, their branches glistening as if they had been dipped in liquid stardust. A silvery luminescence bathed the entire hall, painting everything in shades of moonlight and frost.

The soft strains of the orchestra tuning their instruments filled the air, each note threading seamlessly through the murmured conversations and bursts of laughter that bounced off the stone walls. The festive energy buzzed with anticipation, as though even the walls of Hogwarts held their breath for the night to unfold.

Standing at the entrance, George Weasley shifted restlessly, tugging at the cuffs of his dress robes. The rich maroon fabric complemented the warmth of his hair, which he’d attempted to tame, only for it to retain its usual unruly charm. His gaze swept across the room, eyes catching on familiar faces and the glitter of gowns, until he saw her.

Descending the staircase, she was a vision that made time slow for a heartbeat. Her robes, chosen with impeccable taste, draped gracefully and shimmered with each step, catching the subtle light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. The color framed her eyes perfectly, deepening their sparkle, and George felt his breath catch as a surge of something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking gripped him. He shook it off just as she reached the bottom, his signature grin returning to mask the momentary lapse.

“Wow,” he said, his voice coming out lighter than he intended. A hint of awe clung to the word, making it more sincere. “I mean, you clean up pretty well for someone who trips over their own feet.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed, the sound warm and familiar. She reached out and pushed him playfully on the shoulder, the touch light but sending a jolt through him that he hoped didn’t show. “And you don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley. Surprising, really.”

He opened his mouth, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, when Fred and Lee appeared in a flurry of movement, carrying with them an air of exaggerated theatrics. Fred’s grin was wide, eyes alight with mischief as he clapped George hard on the shoulder, nearly making him stumble. “And here they are, the legendary duo of ‘just friends,’ about to set the dance floor ablaze with their platonic presence,” he announced, loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby students.

Lee leaned in, smirk firmly in place as he added, “Bet five Galleons they don’t make it through the night without a confession,” just loud enough for them to hear. Y/n’s eyes widened, caught between embarrassment and amusement, while George shot them a glare that failed to mask the redness creeping up his neck.

“Keep your bets to yourselves,” George retorted, though the good-natured grin that followed took the sting out of the words. He turned back to Y/n, offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “Come on, let’s show these other blokes how it’s done.”

She looped her arm through his, fingers brushing in a way that made the air between them feel electric. The dance floor was a swirl of color and light, robes sweeping over the stone with the rhythm of the music. George led her into the first song with a mixture of confidence and playful clumsiness, moving to the beat with a grin that hinted at barely contained laughter. He spun her out with dramatic flair, her robes flaring around her, before pulling her back into an exaggerated dip that earned them both a chorus of laughter.

“You do know this isn’t one of those comedic skits, right?” she teased, eyes glinting with amusement as she straightened, breathless and glowing from the dance.

“Are you sure?” George shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced toward the staff table. “Because I swear I just saw Snape attempting to smile, and if that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed, the sound bright and infectious, and for a moment, the rest of the hall seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, surrounded by a world that had taken on a soft blur, wrapped in laughter and stolen glances. And though the night was just beginning, George felt that this was the moment he would replay in his mind for days to come.

As the evening stretched on, the energy in the Great Hall shifted. The jubilant buzz of earlier dances mellowed, and the orchestra transitioned to softer, slower melodies. The enchanted icicles above shimmered in time with the gentle strains of the music, their soft glow casting an ethereal light across the room. Around them, couples drew closer, heads bent in whispered conversations, eyes reflecting the delicate twinkle of overhead lights. It felt as though the entire hall had exhaled, settling into a quiet, shared moment of intimacy.

George’s hand, warm and confident, rested lightly at Y/n’s waist, guiding her in the slow, steady movements of the dance. The contact was familiar yet startling in its effect, sending a warmth coursing up her spine that was as surprising as it was comforting. Their fingers intertwined, a natural fit that felt as if they had been meant to find each other in this way all along. The world outside their small circle seemed to blur; the music, the other dancers, the gentle snowflakes still falling from the enchanted ceiling—all of it softened into a background hum.

“So,” George said, his voice dipping to match the quiet notes around them. The usual spark of humor was still there, but something else tempered it, something that made his eyes hold hers a fraction longer. “Are we still surviving this without any major catastrophes?”

Y/n’s smile wavered, not from hesitation, but from the weight of the moment. The gentle teasing in his tone didn’t hide the question in his eyes, the one that had hovered unspoken between them for longer than either could admit. She squeezed his hand, fingers pressing into the spaces between his, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Surviving?” she echoed, her voice softening as a true smile curved her lips. “I’d say we’re doing better than that.”

The room around them seemed to still, the air heavy with something unnameable but tangible. George’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he was lost in the depth of her gaze, where laughter, comfort, and something deeper blended seamlessly. His mouth opened, words hovering on the cusp—words that he’d felt but never dared to voice.

But before he could speak, a familiar, boisterous voice pierced the fragile bubble of quiet. “Oi! Save the staring contest for later, lovebirds. Some of us are trying to dance over here!” Fred’s shout cut through the air, followed by a chorus of amused snickers and chuckles. Lee waved from the sidelines, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face.

The spell shattered in an instant, and a rush of heat flooded George’s cheeks, spreading down to his neck. Y/n’s face mirrored his, flushed and wide-eyed with the sudden attention. Laughter bubbled around them, but even as the moment dissolved, neither moved away. Their hands remained linked, the space between them unchanged despite the laughter rippling through the hall.

George looked at her, the glint of embarrassment giving way to something more resolute. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, softer this time, and the promise in his eyes was clear: Fred’s teasing hadn’t broken anything that couldn’t be rebuilt, that couldn’t grow stronger. The warmth in her returning smile told him she understood perfectly.

The orchestra shifted into another slow tune, the light above them flickering like stars, and the two of them remained standing there, sharing a look that spoke volumes in the quiet language they’d always shared. The dance resumed around them, but their moment, despite the interruption, was only just beginning.

The Great Hall had grown louder and more lively as the night went on, but George and Y/n found themselves drifting toward a quieter corner, taking breaks from the dancing to catch their breath. They sat at a table with Lee, who had been eyeing George with a look that spoke of knowing amusement. The night was rich with laughter, interrupted by soft music that played in the background and the hum of conversations.

George leaned back in his chair, the air around him still tinged with the warmth of dancing. “I’m going to get some drinks,” he said, pushing himself up. His fingers brushed against Y/n’s for just a moment—a touch so brief it felt like a secret shared between them. She looked up, her eyes following him as he made his way through the crowd.

Fred took advantage of the moment, leaning forward with his trademark mischievous grin, an eyebrow raised. “You know, he’s had that stupid look on his face every time you’ve walked into a room since first year, right?”

A sudden rush of warmth flooded Y/n’s chest, her heart pounding unexpectedly. She forced a roll of her eyes, schooling her features into a semblance of playful annoyance. “Nice try, Fred. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

Fred’s grin only widened, a sparkle of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. “Just trying to help move things along. You’ll thank me one day,” he said with a wink that made her laugh despite herself.

George returned moments later, holding two cups of punch. He settled into his seat, exhaling as he handed one to her, the corners of his lips tugging up when he noticed Fred and Lee high-fiving behind his back. He didn’t say anything, but a faint smile betrayed that he was more aware than he let on. The table fell into easy conversation, laughter spilling into the air, each teasing comment laced with warmth. What had started as a casual agreement to attend the Ball together began to feel like something more substantial—something both thrilling and a little terrifying.

Later, with the night deepening and the hall still aglow with the silvery charm of the decorations, George and Y/n slipped outside. The cold air greeted them, sharp and crisp, tinged with the clean scent of snow. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside drifted behind them, a distant memory compared to the stillness of the courtyard.

The moon hung low, bathing the scene in a silver wash that turned the snow into a canvas of glistening frost. Tiny ice crystals adorned the bare branches, catching the light and sparkling like stars. Their footsteps crunched softly over the snow, breaking the quiet as they walked further out.

“I needed a break from all the dancing,” Y/n said, her breath visible in the cold as she shivered lightly. A grin broke across her face as she looked up at George. “Not that I’m complaining. Your moves have improved since third year, I’ll give you that.”

George laughed, the sound rich and familiar, curling warmly in the cold air. “Oh, you mean the time I tripped over your foot and we both ended up in a heap at McGonagall’s feet?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know, that was all part of my strategy. Always keep your partner guessing.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls and filling the quiet space between them. Their breaths mingled in the cold, little puffs that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The shared silence felt different out here, stretched under the starlit sky, charged with an unspoken anticipation.

Suddenly, Y/n bent down, the snow cold but malleable in her hands. With a twist and a quick flick of her wrist, she sent a snowball flying. It hit George squarely in the chest, powder exploding against his maroon dress robes and leaving a wide-eyed look of surprise on his face.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up almost immediately as he processed what had happened. Y/n stepped back, giggling, her eyes bright with mischief as she prepared to dodge whatever came next.

“You were asking for it!” she teased, already crouching to gather more snow.

“I’ll show you asking for it,” George said, his eyes alight with playful menace as he hurled a snowball that whizzed past Y/n’s head, narrowly missing as she ducked and darted behind a stone pillar. The courtyard rang with their laughter, the sound sharp and joyous in the crisp night air, echoing against the ancient stone walls. Each well-aimed throw was met with shrieks of delight or exaggerated groans of mock defeat, and every duck and dodge sent powdery bursts of snow scattering into the moonlit air.

George’s eyes narrowed with a look of determination as he formed another snowball and launched it with precision. This time, it clipped her shoulder, sending a flurry of snow cascading down her back. She stumbled, half-laughing and half-gasping, arms flailing dramatically. George straightened, triumphant, hands resting on his hips as he called out, “Victory is mine!”

But Y/n wasn’t one to admit defeat so easily. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she collapsed to the ground, splaying herself out in an exaggerated pose of surrender. Her face was hidden by her hands, shoulders trembling as she suppressed a giggle.

A sharp pang of worry wiped the grin from George’s face, his heart stuttering as he took a cautious step forward. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening with concern. He dropped to one knee in the snow beside her, brows knitting together as he reached out.

Y/n’s shoulders shook again, and before he could register the telltale signs of suppressed laughter, she sprang up. With a triumphant laugh, she pressed a handful of snow directly into his face, the cold biting against his flushed skin and leaving him spluttering.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!” George shouted, shaking snow from his hair as a wicked grin replaced his earlier concern. Any hesitation was gone as he lunged forward, his arms reaching out. She shrieked, twisting away, but George was quicker. He caught her around the waist, lifting her off the ground in a burst of momentum. They stumbled together, the snow crunching beneath their feet, laughter mingling and dying into the quiet as they found balance.

The world seemed to still as George’s arms remained wrapped around her, holding her close. Their breath came in soft, visible puffs, mingling in the chilled air between them. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something deeper as he looked at her. The moon hung heavy above them, casting a silvery glow that outlined their faces, highlighting every stray snowflake clinging to their hair and lashes.

Their eyes flickered upward at the same time, drawn by a subtle sparkle in the night. There, hanging from a gnarled branch, was a sprig of enchanted mistletoe, its leaves glistening softly with magic. The sight sent a jolt of something unnameable through George’s chest, and a flush crept up his neck, turning his cheeks a deeper shade than the cold could account for.

“Well,” George said, his voice lower now, rougher, as if it carried the weight of unspoken words. “It’s bad luck if we don’t, right? But I mean, only if you want to—”

Before he could finish, she tilted her face up, eyes bright and steady, and closed the space between them. The first touch of their lips was tentative, light as the snow that drifted around them, but the warmth that surged through them banished any chill. George’s arms tightened, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss, the weight of years of unvoiced wishes finally, blissfully, falling away.

They pulled back, eyes wide and searching, both breathless and a little awed by the moment. George’s grin returned, crooked and full of a confidence that felt renewed.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She laughed, soft and sure, the sound a balm in the quiet night. Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered,

“Yes.” The word was simple, but it was everything. The snow around them felt warmer, the winter air humming with a magic that had nothing to do with spells or enchantments. It was the kind of magic spun from shared laughter, quiet glances, and the realization that sometimes, the bravest thing was to reach out and hold on.

The cold bit at their exposed skin, sharp and bracing, but it mattered less now than it had moments before. George kept one arm loosely draped around Y/n, the lingering echo of their kiss warming the air between them. The courtyard, blanketed in pristine snow and illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, felt vast and secretive—a space carved out just for them. The world beyond seemed a distant echo, muted by the quiet splendor of the winter night.

Y/n shifted back slightly, just enough to tip her head up and meet George’s eyes. The familiar spark was there, the playful glint that always spoke of mischief, but now it held something more profound, a depth that made her pulse quicken. The silence that enveloped them was not awkward but steeped in the kind of understanding they’d always shared, waiting patiently for its moment to be acknowledged.

“So,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “I guess this means we’re not *just friends* anymore, huh?”

George chuckled, the sound deep and warm, reverberating in the stillness. “I don’t think we’ve been *just friends* for a while now.” His hand lifted, brushing away a stray snowflake that clung to her hair, his fingers lingering long enough to make her breath hitch and her heart thud with renewed force.

Before the silence could deepen further, a shout cut through the cool air, loud and unmistakable. George turned, half-shielding Y/n as he squinted into the dim glow of the castle. From one of the high windows, Fred and Lee leaned out, their faces barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Fred’s voice boomed, full of triumphant humor.

“About time, you two! Do we need to send down a banner or something?”

Lee’s laughter rang out, sharp and infectious. “Make sure George doesn’t faint from all that bravery!”

Y/n’s laugh bubbled up, uncontainable and bright, while George groaned, the flush returning to his cheeks as he buried his face in one hand.

“I’m going to have to lock them in a broom cupboard one of these days,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Oh, come on,” she said, catching his hand and pulling it away, revealing the lopsided grin he couldn’t suppress. “They’ve been rooting for you.”

George let out a melodramatic sigh, but the fondness in his eyes was undeniable.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let them hear you say that, or they’ll never let us live it down.”

The courtyard settled into silence once more as the laughter from the castle faded, leaving behind only the soft sounds of their breaths and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. The warmth between them felt as real and solid as the walls of the castle itself. George’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a more serious note, carrying the weight of an admission.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. Kiss you, I mean.”

Her eyes met his, the teasing spark replaced by something sincere, a smile that spoke more than words.

“I know,” she whispered, the honesty in her voice brushing against him like the lightest of touches. “Me too.”

Above them, a gentle snowfall began again, tiny flakes drifting down as if the sky itself had chosen to mark the moment. George tightened his hold, tucking her closer as they began to walk back toward the castle. Their footsteps left twin trails in the snow, side by side, a quiet testament to what had just unfolded.

“Think we’ll survive the teasing tomorrow?” she asked, the twinkle in her eyes mirrored by the soft glow of the moon.

George’s grin widened, confidence bubbling back to the surface.

“Not a chance,” he said, laughter underlining his words. “But it’ll be worth it.”

The warmth of the castle loomed ahead, its glow spilling out onto the snow as they stepped inside, bringing with them the magic of the night. Behind them, the snow fell gently, erasing their tracks and leaving only the memory of a story that had finally, beautifully, begun.

#george weasly x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader

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nctsplug02 · 2 years ago

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just the filthiest filthiest mark smut

PUNCH! MARKLEE

GENRE: fluff | smut | best friends to lovers!

WARNINGS: protected sex, kissing, dirty talk, praising, fingering, spanking, oral sex (both F and M receiving), nipple play, doggy, hair pulling, squirting, missionary and spitting kink.

A/N: i genuinely do not know how to write a SUPER FILTHILY smut. so, you’ve been warned if it isn’t as filthily as you wanted.

you sigh and do the walk of shame to mark lee’s car when he pulls up and quickly sets his car in park.

“don’t start.” you say as soon as you sit in the passenger side. “oh, cmon!” marks voice cracks. “i deserve to know— i’m your best friend— and, i picked you up!” mark presses on the gas.

you groan and lean your head against the window. “fine, but do you have some snacks that i can munch on?” mark reaches over and pulls open in glove department.

a small light shines and piles of candy wrappers are glistening under the light.

“just for you, brat.” mark leans back in his seat.

brat— the nickname he’d given you when you acted up that one day back in grade five.

“thanks, asshole.” you grab a kitkat and tear the wrapper open. “so,” you sigh and take a bite out of the two sticks. “long story short— my date didn’t show and.. i sat at my booth for about an hour.. looking like an idiot.”

mark laughs and you shove him. “hey! i’m driving here!” you roll your eyes. “don’t laugh then, idiot!” you grab another kitkat.

“wait, so who was the jerk that didn’t show?” mark glances at you. “lee donghyuck.” mark swerves and you panic. “mark lee, what the hell?!” your chest heaves and mark shakes his head.

“you were planning to go on a date with one of my best friends?!” you eye him. “so, what if i was?“ a small smirk grows on your lips. “is mark lee.. jealous?” mark sputters. “wh—what? n—no, no!”

his ears said other wise.. plus that grinned that he couldn’t hide.

mark pulls up to your apartment and you sigh, climbing out and ducking your head slightly in. “thanks for ride, markie.” you tap the top of his car and turn to leave.

“y/n, h—hold on.” you turn and mark is jogging up to you. “look, im sorry for scaring you earlier in the car. i just.. wasn’t expecting you to be going on a date with one of my friends.”

you shake your head. “it’s fine.”

PING!

you look down at your phone and a snarl grows on your lips. “who is it? haechan?” you look up and shut your phone off. “yeah— jealous?” you tilt your head with a snarky grin.

mark stays silent. “well, i’m going inside. it’s late. goodnight—?” you stumble back when mark grabs your waist with one hand and uses the other to cup your jaw— his lips crashed onto yours.

marks lips had landed on your lips so harsh that you swore you could taste blood.

his lips tasted good.. weirdly good.

but, he’s been your best friend since the first grade.

holy shit, this is wrong!

“m—mark!” you push him and he stumbles back. “oh, my god. this.. that.. we can never do that. never.” you touch your bottom lip while guilt washes over marks face.

“i’m sorry, mark. i’m sorry.” you whisper and stumble towards your door where you pulled your keycard out and scanned it before walking in without looking back.

“but, ma. it was weird. he’s my best friend!” it’d been a whole week since the mistaken kiss between you and mark.

“sweetheart,” your mother sighs and massages the aloe vera mask into your face. “you can’t keep hiding your feelings.” you crack an eye open. “what are you talking about, ma?” she sighs and sets the face roller down.

you sit up and face her. “my love..” she frowns. “i can see how madly in love you are with him.” you stutter. “ma, i—i don’t—?”

“sweetheart, you do. since the sixth grade when he asked you to the middle school winter formal dance. i could see the excitement in your eyes when you ran home and told me. you were jumping around.. and.. and squealing like a piglet.” you and her laugh.

“but, sweetheart, the spark in your eyes grew everyday even till today. and— before you ask how i know, mama knows best, my love.” you chew the inside of your cheek.

you softly laugh. “is it really that obvious?” she laughs and nods. “very.” you groan and grab a grape, tossing it in your mouth and chomping on the crunchiness.

you groan and fall flat on the bed. “you know how i went on a date yesterday?” your mother nods blowing on her fresh painted toe nails. “well.. it was.. his friend that i was supposed to go on that date with.”

“supposed to?” you groan, again. the memory of sitting in the booth for an hour, ordering water and tea until finally deciding to leave before having mark pick you up in his gray BMW M4.

“he stood me up, ma.” your voice whines and your mother laughs. “don’t laugh, ma!” she sighs and calms down. “how could anyone stand my gorgeous girl up?” you sit up and pout.

your mother coos. “it was so embarrassing when i had to call mark to come pick me up— i did the walk of shame.” your mother laughs, again. “then.. he kissed me after he dropped me off in front of my apartment complex.”

“oh, sweetheart. that boy.. that sweet boy..” she jolts up. “i’m talking about mark, by the way!” she confirms and you laugh. “not your shitty little date.” you whine, remembering the embarrassing moment of being stood up.

“you better get him before he moves on and finds someone else.”

it’d been two days since the at home spa day with your mother.

and.. she’d soooommeeehoow convinced you to show up in front of his doorstep.. with nothing.

so, here you are standing in front of his house, waiting for him to come open the door.

you kick around, waiting for the door to open until it does. your body stiffens and jolts up straight. a gorgeous mark lee opens the door.

he was wearing black jeans and a fitted white button up. and his hair.. it was slicked up and to the side.

“hi.” you sigh and mark was speechless. his jaw was hung open and his eyes blinked repeatedly. “uh, i.. uh— i’ll just get to the point.”

“i came here to apologize. specifically for freaking out over our kiss which i think was very stupid of me. i usually don’t panic or freak out over anything.” you hyperventilate.

mark bites his lip. “y/n, now isn’t really a good time—?” you push past mark and walk down his hall.

“a few days ago i talked with my mom and she somehow convinced me to come here which, i am so sorry for barging in but, i really have to talk to you— or apologize.” your hands shake as you enter the kitchen.

“y—y/n—?” mark tries to run in front of you.

you stop and turn. “mark, im in love with you.” mark stops in front of you with his lips slightly parted.

someone clears their throat. “am i.. interrupting something?” your body stills.

holy fuck.

your head slowly turns toward the voice. “hi.” you squeak and wave. “hey, i’m celina. marks date— and, you?” you gulp and turn your head back to marks.

“woah, im sorry. i didn’t realize my.. my neighbor! i didn’t realize my neighbor had a date. wow, this was so rude of me to just barge in— i apologize!” you laugh and look behind you— thank god mark had two entry for his kitchen.

“i—i should go! nice meeting you celina! again, sorry!” you awkwardly laugh and leave through the second entry.

what the actual hell were you thinking??

that was definitely a sign that it isn’t meant to be.

“maaaaa, it was so embarrassing!” you cry a whine into her chest. “he was on a date and i just, barged in like the kool aid guy telling him that i love him!”

your mother gasps. “you told him you love him? my love, i know you want to tell about how you feel for him but.. don’t be so upfront!” you whine and fall back on her bed.

“you always tell me to be upfront and straight forward.” you sigh and run your hands over your face. “sometimes you shouldn’t listen to me!” you and her laugh as you sit up.

“i messed up, ma.” your mother cups your face. “yeah, you did.” you softly laugh and sigh.

PING!

“should i get that?” your mother frowns and nods. “fine.” you huff and grab your phone.

you gasp. “ma, he texted me!” you jump up on your knees. “who? who?!” she jumps on her knees. “who other than mark, ma?!” you and her squeal for a good minute before calming down.

“he said, come over and let’s talk— please.” you bite your lip and your mother shows a shocked face. “go, now. i’m so serious right now, y/n. get out of my house and come back the next day to tell me what happened!”

you laugh and climb out of her bed. “ma, im nervous!” you say slipping on your shoes. “just go! take my car and go, sweetheart! you’ll be fine, i promise.” she gives you a kiss on the forehead and watches you walk out to her car.

you bite your nail while walking back and forth in front of marks door. debating if you should knock or just turn and leave.

“well, i’m already here.” you sigh and pull your hand away from your mouth.

you clear your throat and straighten up before bringing your hand up and knocking on marks door. mid knock, the door swings open and your arm hangs in the air.

“hi.” mark sighs with a lopsided smile.

“hi.” you bite your lip and gulp.

“i was wondering when you’d knock.” what? “uh, i could see you pacing back and forth through my camera.” you look to the side to side before stopping when seeing his ring camera.

you look back at him. “oh.” you nervously laugh and mark finally invites you inside with an apology.

“so,” you swoop your skirt and sit on his couch. “why did you ask me to come here? i thought you had a date.. with celina?” mark sits across from you and rests his elbows on his knees.

“i cut our date short.” he answers plainly. “wh—what? why?” mark rubs his stubble. “i had to see you, y/n. i needed to talk to you a—after what you said.”

mark raises his eyes to yours and you bring your eyes to his fireplace.

“look, mark— what i said..” you sigh and push your hair back.

“did you mean it?” you bring your eyes back to his. your eye twitches and so does your jaw as you contemplate on what to say.

mark gets up and your eyes follow him. he walks around the coffee table and stops in front of you before sitting down on the table.

you felt like time had stopped with him.. being so close in front of you.

“tell me, y/n. did you mean what you said?” you wet your lips. “i—i did.” mark rests his elbows on his knees like before. “say it without stuttering.”

“i did and i do, mark. i.. love you.” mark softly smiles. “i didn’t ask before but, can i kiss you?” you follow along with the smile and nod.

mark cups your face and softly connects his lips with yours. no roughness and no blood this time.

the kiss was getting rougher and sloppier by the second and in the heat of the moment, you took marks hand and you brought it under your skirt.

“fuck,” mark pulls away and looks down before looking back up. “you’re drenched, baby.” you tipped your head back and sighed when he pressed his fingers more on your clit.

mark pushes your skirt up and looks down. “god, you’re adorable.” mark softly giggles at your panties— they were cotton with flowers printed all over it and a tiny little flower was sewed in the middle of the stretch-band.

“it was on sale at victoria secret!” you whine.

mark softly laughs. “may i?” mark tugs on the band and you nod, biting your lip.

mark pulls your panties down and holds them up. embarrassment washed over you when seeing the a wet splotch on the cotton material.

“mark, give it to me—?” you reach up to snatch it but mark reclines back. “ah ah, what do you think you’re doing?” he smirks and looks at the panties in his hand. “taking back what’s mine— give it—?” you try and reach for it, again but mark does the same thing.

“nice try, princess. this is mine now.” he bunches it up and tucks it in his back pocket. “what’re you gonna do with it, huh? wear it?” mark laughs. “shut up.” you yelp when he lands a soft smack on your clit.

mark lifts his hand to his mouth and sticks out his tongue, wetting his two fingers before slowly sliding them into your cunt.

you moan and slowly let your legs fall together. “no no no,” mark parts your legs with his free hand. “i want these open, you hear me?” you bite your lip and nod. “good.”

a tortured groan rumbled in your throat as mark slowly slipped his fingers within your walls. your walls tightened around his fingers every time the tip of his fingers brushed against your g-spot.

“m—mark!” you hum and softly gasp. your clit throbbed and throbbed. “do you like this, baby?” mark says, slowly thrusting his fingers.

you shake your head. “you don’t?” mark pauses and you whine. “mark, i want it faster.” marks lip curl into a grin. “you’re a needy one, aren’t you?”

mark intensifies his movements and rests his thumb on your clit. “ooohh, my god.” you shudder a moan and let your eyes roll back.

“mark!” his lips rest on your swollen clit and it catches you off guard. “oh, god— mark!” you cry out and tug on his locks.

his fingers scissoring inside you as his tongue swirls around your clit. he hums a chuckle when feeling your fingers tug tighter.

“oh, ffffuck!” you gasp, feeling him nibble on your clit.

the sounds of mark lapping up your juice fills your ears, along with the sounds of his fingers scissoring you rapidly.

you push mark away, his lips a bit swollen and red as he’s shoved away from you. “w—wait, m—mark!” the pleasure is too much.

“what’s wrong, baby? tell me how it feels, baby.” mark whispers and you struggle with speak. the air tightening around you as your orgasm sneaked closer. “cmon, baby.” mark slows down his moments and you whine.

“i—it feels.. amazing, mark.” you grasp the material of his couch and clench your jaw with a grunted, high pitched moan. “there you go, baby.” mark whispers, his fingers throbbing from how tight you clenched.

“oh, fuck.” mark pulls his fingers out and lifts them. “so perfect.” mark sighs and plops them on his tongue. mark slides his tongue between the two cum covered fingers and moans around them.

“m—mark, i just— i just squirted!” you stare in horror as he sucks on his fingers.

“princess, you taste so sweet.” he looks down at you and grins widely.

the image of you laid in front of him with your legs wide open and your pussy glistening, your chest heaving and your eyes fighting to stay open.

“god, this is embarrassing.” you groan. “hey,” mark grabs your jaw and shakes your head side to side, waking you back up. “we aren’t done yet, princess.”

mark lifts you up and fixes your skirt. “we’re taking this to the room, okay, princess?” you nod and wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

once upstairs, mark lays you gently on his bed. “are you on birth control?” he asks and you nod. “but, could you please use a condom?” mark reaches above you and opens up his nightstand.

you hear rustling until a wrapper is heard. “i will always use a condom. never have i once slept with a women without wearing a condom.” you take the condom from mark and you rip it open.

“can i put it on?” mark softly laughs and nods. you sit up and wait until mark undresses himself. with excitement, you slide the condom on with a bit of marks help.

you lay back down and mark looks down at you— he admires you before nodding. “ready, princess?” you’re caught off guard by his question— too busy staring down at his cock.

it was both long and thick. maybe a good eight inch.

“ready.” you nod.

mark holds one of your thigh and slowly pushes himself in. your mouth parts and and your body tenses up. you let out a cry when mark made it half way.

now, it wasn’t like you were a virgin— you aren’t. but, his size was different compared to the other three guys you’ve slept with. they were thinner and below 6 inches.

“mark,” you exhale and rest your palm on his faint abs. “i’ll go slow, baby. don’t worry.” you shake your head. “n—no, i want it fast. j—just not now.” you exhale, again.

you look to the side when feeling mark interlace his fingers with yours. “i’ll go as slow as you want, baby. we can be here all night at this pace.” you softly laugh and so does mark.

after about several minutes, you had gotten over the slight burning sensation and had begged mark to pick up his pace.

“just like that, baby.” mark groaned and watched as your pussy swallowed his cock. “absolutely gorgeous.” he whispers and tightens his hand around yours.

you give a squeeze back and mark softly laughs.

“you’re so fucking perfect.” he whispers and presses his lips against yours. mark doesn’t let your lips go instead, he pounds his hips down on yours.

your moans being swallowed by mark as his cock hit your g-spot, over and over, again. mark pulls your leg onto his hip and roughly rocks his hips into yours. you bring your other leg up to marks hip and you lock your ankles together, pulling him closer.

“mark,” you moan, pulling away. “i’m— mark, im gonna—?” mark kisses you. “cum.” he finishes for you. “do it. i love how tight you get when you cum.”

and, so you do. your pussy tightens around mark when your second orgasm washes over you. “what a good slut.” mark coos and presses his lips on yours.

slut?

mark pulls away when your legs go weak. his cock stands hard as he grabs your hips and turns you on your knees.

“m—mark, my legs!” you giggle. your legs shook and quivered— and, if it were for marks arm around your waist holding you up, you would’ve collapsed.

mark uses his free hand and lands a spank on your ass. “look at this pretty flushed ass.” mark lands another spank on your ass and you whine. “mark, stop!” you swat his hand.

“sh, sh.” mark pushes down the upper half of your body and plants a kiss on your ass cheek. “stay still and let me hear those pretty noises while i fuck you, slut.”

mark pushes into you and your eyes fall shut but your mouth falls open with moans spilling out.

“that’s it, slut. let me hear your pretty sounds.” mark gathers your hair and yanks it back. “ah— mark.” you wince, your back aching from how much it arched.

mark hisses and squeezes your hips. “moan for me, baby. i love hearing how pretty you sound.” your mouth falls open and more moans spill out.

“fuck, im gonna cum.” mark exhales and tilts his head back. “y/n, wha—?” his head snaps back when feeling you slip off his cock.

you turn around and push mark back by shoving his shoulders. he falls on his ass with his legs laid out in front of him.

“baby, what are you doing—?” you sit on your knees and crawl forward, pulling the condom off and flinging on to the side. “baby—?” mark sighs when feeling your lips wrap around his cock.

“fuck, baby.” mark softly chuckles and you gasp when feeling a hand drop on your head.

his fingers tangle with your hair. mark lets out a string of curses as he pushes your head down and back up. you push away marks hand and he tsks.

“i’m a big girl, mark.” you say pulling off his cock.

he lets out a drowsy smile and gathers your hair, even the ones that stuck to your face with sweat.

you settled with a rhythm and flattened your tongue along his cock. mark moans and you smile at the sounds of pleasure he let spill from his throat.

“oh, fuck. oh, fuck, baby—?!” mark holds your head down and dumps his load down your throat before letting you up.

you gasp heavily and slap your hands down on marks thighs— which, he winces at. your eyes fall shut when feeling something land on your cheek then nose and then chin.

“you’re a piece of shit.” you laugh, opening your eyes to see mark still recovering from his orgasm. “you love it.” you roll your eyes.

mark reaches forward and wraps his hand around your nape, yanking you forward and connecting your lips with his.

he pulls away and pulls your jaw apart. you wait until a ball of saliva falls into your mouth, landing on your tongue. you swallow and open your mouth, again.

“good girl, baby.” mark softly laughs and rubs your cheek.

mark frees your jaw and lowers his eyes to your breasts. your eyes follow and mark cups your breasts from below.

“god, could you get any more gorgeous than this?” you bite your lip as mark moves closer, his mouth practically drooling over your breasts.

a soft moan is heard from you when mark wraps his lips around your nipple. he looked adorable from your view. just sucking on your tit and pinching the other nipple.

“oh, god.” you sigh and bring your hand up to his lock, tangling your finger in his locks and yanking them.

“you taste so sweet.. every part of you is so sweet.” he whispers and moves to the other breast. “oh, god, mark.” you gasp, pushing his head closer.

mark pulls away and his lips were slightly plumped with redness. “you look so cute.” you giggle, wiping his extra drool with your thumb.

mark grabs your hand and leans into your touch. “what do you say,” he brings his lips onto yours. “wash up,” he pulls off and then returns. “and i’ll order something for us?” you laugh against his lips and nod.

“alright, cmon. i wanna see how sexy you’ll look in my clothes.” you roll your eyes and laugh.

“you know, hearing you say that you were supposed to go on a date with one of my best friends.. i was.. i was honestly furious.” mark says grabbing a chicken drumstick.

“i felt like someone had punched a hole in my heart.” you laugh and mark stammers confusingly. “wha— im serious! honestly, i’m actually serious. i went to his place and punched him right in the jaw.”

wow, mark lee? really?

“did you actually?” you ask, sipping on the cola in your cup. “i did and i.. would do it again but i wouldn’t. kind of hurt my knuckles.” he laughs.

“i’m glad we talked things out.” you say with a sigh. “i’m glad we did, too.” mark grabs another chicken.

you sigh, again, swallowing the skin of the crispy chicken. “my mom is gonna freak when i tell her about the amazing sex we just had.” you laugh and then mark follows.

“wa—wait—? wh—what?” his voice squeaks.

you giggle. “wait, do you tell your mom everything?” his half eaten chicken lays between his fingers. “i do. she’s my best friend.” mark takes a bite out of his chicken.

“mm..” he sets down his chicken on his plate. “so, that means you’ll also tell her that we’re dating, now?” you quirk an eyebrow. “since when, hm?”

mark clears his throat. “y/n, will you be my one and only girlfriend?” you smirk, hiding the fact that you were melting inside. “yes, mark lee. i will be your one and only girlfriend.” you giggle.

“good, because i wasn’t gonna let you go anyway.” he winks and you hide your smile with the drumstick.

A/N: i genuinely was gonna write something that was like.. related to the title “punch” but i didn’t save it and it deleted! so, i’d already had the picture and divider so i just decided to write something else.

so if you’re reading it and thinking “what rje hell does this have to do with “punch” — nothing. it has nothing to do with this post.

#nctsplug02 #ash talks #nct imagines #nct scenarios #anon #kpop imagines #nct smut #nct 127 #kpop smut #kpop fluff #nerdy mark #mark fluff #superm mark #nct mark #mark #mark smut #mark lee smut #mark lee

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cupcakeslushie · 1 month ago

Note

Hi there, I love your stuff, I hope you don't mind but I wanted to do an ask the artist

Where are you from?

What's your favorite color?

How long have you been creating art for?

What drives you to make art?

What is your favorite piece of artwork of yours?

What is your favorite fan artwork that was done for you?

What character of yours is your favorite?

If you could go to any fictional world which one would it be?

Do you consider what will please your audience or do you just do your own thing?

What made you want to start your AU?

1. American! Southern girl, specifically.

2. You’d think it would be green with how it’s been my hair color for three years, and I’ve made it my signature on here, but it’s actually yellow! Like the really saturated, sunny kind! 💛

3. Oh lord. Um, since like 1st or 2nd grade.

4. I never really thought about it. I think I’m just a visual person. So if I have an idea, I need to get it on paper to really see it. I’m the same with movies, especially adaptations. I could never picture characters by reading them in books very well, but seeing them in movies I’m like, “oh okay, now I see what they were going for!” It’s also just fun. It’s my own story-telling method.

5. Fav piece of anything I’ve ever made would be one of my stained glass pieces, like my lemon one, that took me three weeks, and was one of my first bigger pieces. Digitally it would probably be my most recent dtiys cause I just don’t like looking at my older stuff.

6. Noooo!! I have so many, especially recently, that I’ve been gifted! I can’t choose just one!!! Seriously! I love everything I’ve ever been sent! I will say, I’ve been gifted a few fan fictions by now, that have had me like, mind blown—just because writing is such a thing that I’ve always admired and never really been able to fully grasp. If you’ve sent me art, it’s more than likely been my phone or iPad wallpaper, and if you’ve sent me fanfiction, I’ve probably read it no less than five times, and will continue to go back to it.

7. I mean, it’s Donnie. It’s pretty clearly Donnie. I try and be fair and love all the boys equally, but I’m not gonna lie, you all know it. It’s obvious. Just know, I’ll never ignore the others story wise 😜. But Donnie gets the most of my attention and my evil creative plots 😈.

8. Any world ever? Probably Fullmetal Alchemist—if I could actually be an alchemist. I mean, like come on—how cool is that? And like, yeah, you’ve got Father and the homucuous running around, but for the most part, the world is pretty chill and has the coolest rules.

9. The main chunks of my stories are really just what I want to see, but sometimes I can hear a suggestion and think about changing the trajectory of things. I’m always open to ideas, especially if I’m stumped on how it should go. I even change my opinions on the things I’ve established myself, I’m very open to changing a story if a better idea comes to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been like, scared to tell something because I think someone wouldn’t like it. If they don’t, that’s fine, not everything is for everyone, and some things only click with a few people. If I really want to tell a story, then I’m going to tell it.

10. It’s really so funny, because at the time, I was working on this short, post-movie aftermath comic about Leo learning to find a healthy middle ground between being the silly guy and a serious leader. But I was having trouble with the next part, so I decided to watch Arcane and doodle. I posted that little concept sheet, and it feels like…within days my inbox was full with people wanting to know more, and the more I answered, the more I was like, wait I wanna actually explore this. Tbh pretty much all my AUs have started this way. With just an idea jotted down, and then turning into something I couldn’t stop developing.

#rottmnt #ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #my art #rottmnt separated au #slushie rambles

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obsidiancreates · 5 months ago

Text

These Kids Are Geniuses (Against All Other Evidence) [Part 1]

1987

Shawn’s little sneakers practically fly across the grass as he dashes through the gate, letting it SLAM! shut behind him. "Dad! Dad! We have to go save Gus!"

"Whoa whoa, slow down Shawn.” Henry catches his son mid-run, picks him up, and sets him on the yard table bench. “Save Gus from what?"

"He's going to a new school, the school for nerds!" Shawn’s face is red, eyes puffy, and he’s sniffling as he talks. “He’s going away!”

"School for nerds? You mean the one he has stickers of on his backpack?"

“... Yeah.” Shawn’s voice is small, wavering.

“So it sounds to me like he wants to go there. In fact, I bet he chose he to go there himself, didn’t he? So we don’t have to ‘save’ him from anything.”

"But if he goes, we'll never see each other again!"

"Well that's not true, you'll have weekends still."

"Nuh-uh! They give you enough homework for ten kids there!" Shawn throws his little arms as wide as he can.

Henry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Shawn, look. Gus has wanted to go to this school for a long time. You need to be supportive, even if it means spending a little less time together. Unless you suddenly turn things around grades-wise to get in yourself, you'll just have to accept it and be happy for him."

Shawn nods.

Then… Shawn perks up.

Then Shawn grins. "... You're right! Great idea, Dad!" He dashes off into the house!

"Wh- Shawn! Shawn, what idea!” Henry gets to his feet. “SHAWN!"

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shawn?” Gus blinks at him in surprise. “I thought you said you weren’t eating lunch with me until I decide not to go.”

“That was yesterday, Gus.” They trade desserts, Gus’s dried pineapple slices for Shawn’s store bought cookies. “I have a new plan.”

“Please don’t sabotage my grades, Shawn.”

“What? Oh, no, that isn’t it.”

“Phew! My mom thought you would for sure.”

“I did think about it. But I have a way better plan.”

“... Can I know it?”

“Not yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I don’t always like your surprises, Shawn.”

“You’ll like this one! … Hopefully.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Shawn, let’s see what the damage is,” Henry grunts as he sits down with Shawn’s report card. “Remember what I told you with the last one?”

Shawn rolls his eyes and repeats, verbatim, “If one more teacher write that you tried to convince the class a zombie apocalypse started at lunch, you’re grounded until one actually starts.”

“Alright, good. Let’s see…”

Henry’s brows furrow. He brings the report closer to his eyes, then farther away. And Shawn grins.

Henry looks at Shawn. “All A’s.”

Shawn’s grin falters a little. “Just A’s?”

“Just A’s? Shawn, your last report card was mostly C’s!”

“Why’s it not A pluses?” Shawn reaches for the paper. “Dad, show it to me!”

“Hang on, hang on! … Okay, uh, in the notes here it says you missed a couple homework deadlines.”

“But that’s not fair! One of those was because you and I did a stakeout!”

Henry looks around. “Keep your voice down, your mom’s home!”

Shawn crosses his arms. “I need to get A pluses, Dad, before the school year is over!”

“Why do you– oh.” Henry puts down the paper. “Shawn, is this about Gus?”

“... Maybe.”

“You know– I’m glad you’re working harder at school. I really am, this is a real improvement. But I don’t think I like you trading training, for schoolwork.”

“But Dad!”

“No buts, Shawn. These are both important for your future, so if you want A pluses you’ll just have to find a way to manage your time better. Like, combining play with work. Maybe do your homework while you hang out with Gus.”

“No!” Shawn stomps his foot. “Gus doesn’t know about this yet!”

“Doesn’t kn- Shawn, why the hell are you not telling him?”

“Uh… why are you using bad words around me?”

Henry shakes his head. “Fine, just… you’ll have a lot less time for fun anyway when you’re on the force, so just think of this like practice, alright? If you want to get into Meitner, you need to give up a few little things here and there, like TV time.”

“That’s just not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, kid. You’ll get used to it.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shawn, are you coming to my birthday party?”

“Uh, I don’t think so Denny. Sorry.”

“Why?”

“I uh… got grounded.”

“Oh. … Well, bye.”

“See ya.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you’re not going to Denny’s party? Your mom bought you that nice new shirt for it.”

“Um…”

“Shawn, be honest.”

“... I’m… studying.”

“Studying.”

“I am, okay! I need to get the A pluses.”

“Shawn, when I said ‘adjust your time management’ this isn’t what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Social events are important, Shawn! Not just for fun, but for networking. For example, I went to a retirement party I didn’t feel like going to last year, and I met the Commissioner. Now, we had some friendly conversation, and he said he’d keep me in mind for a detective position the next time it needed to be filled.”

“I thought the Chief picked that.”

“Right, but he can be influenced by other people around him. That’s networking.”

“And… if I go to the party, I can get to know other kids who can do things for me?”

“Yeah! See, you never want to take a networking event out of your plans just for paperwork.”

“But then where do I fit in homework time?”

“Well that’s for you to figure out, Shawn. But come on, I’ll call Denny’s mom and let her know you’re coming after all.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn sits in the principal’s office, his feet dangling off the end of the chair. Gus sits next to him, hands in his lap.

“I told you not to say anything to him,” Gus whimpers.

Shawn leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling with his good not-swollen eye. “What was I supposed to do, Gus?”

“Let him cheat off you! You were probably only getting a C anyway!”

“I was not!”

“We’re in trouble now!”

“Hey, no-one asked you to jump on him.”

“He hit you!”

Their little fight ends abruptly as Winnie Guster and Henry Spencer both enter at the same time. Winnie speeds over to Gus, checking his face right away. Henry walks at a normal pace, and stands in front of Shawn with his arms crossed.

“The principal says you got in a fight during a test,” Henry says.

Shawn puffs up indignantly. “Tommy was cheating off me!”

“Off you?” Winnie lets slip.

Shawn ignores her. “I told the teacher and he jumped me when I sat back down.”

Henry looks at Gus. Gus looks down and nods.

“Alright,” Henry sighs. “I know you’ve been staying out of trouble on purpose lately, so I believe you. Let me go talk to the principal and see if I can… get this cleared off your record.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but! I want this to be your last fight, Shawn.”

Shawn slumps in his chair. “I didn’t even hit back.”

“Biting counts as retaliation, Shawn.”

“... But I didn’t hit back.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Shawn, moment of truth. Last report card before your interview.”

Shawn nods, practically vibrating with anticipation. Henry opens the envelope slowly, almost teasingly.

“What is it, Dad? How is it?!”

Henry looks up at Shawn from over the paper, and then flips it around.

Shawn is frozen for a moment.

And then jumps!

“WHOO! WHOOOOO-HOO! I DID IT!”

The full row of A pluses are carefully folded and tucked into Henry’s pocket as Shawn dances around the living room, and then up the stairs shouting the news to his mom.

Henry will find a plastic slip to save it in later. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn swallows and looks up at his dad, his little leg Shaking Unstoppably as they wait for his name to be called. He tugs at the tie around his neck, the collar of the new dress shirt still itchy despite three runs in the wash. “What if they’re not impressed?”

“You kidding?” Henry leans over. “Shawn, look around the room. What do you see?”

Shawn looks up. “Lots of smart kids.”

“Look closer.”

Shawn squints at the three other children in the room.

One is a young girl around his age, balancing a chemistry textbook on one leg and a model of some chemical compound on the other. She’s mouthing the words as she reads along– she’s nervous too, and isn’t sure she’ll be able to remember her facts.

Another kid is a few years older, running his thumbnail against his braces and shaking more than Shawn is. His prepared demonstration is being crumpled in his sweaty hand, smudging the ink. He can only hope to remember it, or get enough clues from the smudges and rips to figure out the words.

The last kid is a little younger than Shawn, and he just doesn’t look like he wants to be here. He’s half-asleep, and his eyes keep wandering over to the door.

“Lots of smart kids still.”

“Smart kids who aren’t you. I know you noticed the kid with the crumpled paper– you know what you have that he doesn’t?”

“My memory?”

“Your memory. And look, she’d running over her lines over and over there. She won’t have the paper, which is impressive, but she’ll sound robotic. Now sounding natural and confident is always better than sounding overly-practiced. Remember that for when you talk to the press about your cases someday.”

“And that kid doesn’t even want to come here.”

“Exactly. You’ve got every advantage right now, Shawn. That’s a rare situation to be in. Keep on your toes, but don’t let it psych you out.”

Shawn nods.

“Shawn Spencer.”

He jumps to his feet and quickly walks over to the secretary.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, Shawn, you’re certainly an… interesting, candidate.”

“Um… thank you.” Shawn knows that’s not a compliment.

The interviewer tsks. “Poor grades up until this past year, several notices of erratic to poor behavior…”

“Well, um, that was actually because of… understimulation.” He pulls the word up from a memory of his mom explaining why he wanted to cry when he was bored. “It was too easy and I got bored.”

“Mmm, we’ll see. What have you prepared to show me why you belong here, Shawn?”

Shawn takes a deep breath, and a moment to look over the interviewer.

“Your watch is off by three hours, and your hair is really shiny but not staying in place. So it’s not gel, your hair is just greasy. That and the watch mean you were probably on a place earlier today, and your briefcase has crumbs all over the top so it was a business trip. You probably went to interview some out-of-state kids and had to rush back here.”

The interviewer sits back. “Very impressive reasoning for your age. And good attention to detail. But that’s not–”

Shawn closes his eyes and says “To get to this room the secretary took me down a hallway that had walls the same color as my dad’s cop uniform and a carpet that probably hasn’t been shampooed since last year. The secretary was wearing shoes too small for her, and she almost tripped multiple times because of it. She looked nervous leading me here, and kept checking for landmarks, so I think she’s new and didn’t have the shoes she needed to work here. She probably borrowed them from the lost and found.”

“How–”

“The hallway had pictures of old principals all along it. The first one is from 1972, then 1974, and it keeps going with two years between principals until 1985 when you had two principals in one year. The first principal’s picture is poorly taken care of, and someone drew a mole on it that never got cleaned off, so he probably did something bad.”

“That’s amazing-”

“While I’ve had my eyes closed you brushed the crumbs off your briefcase and reset your watch.”

“I– yes–”

“And the girl out in the waiting room made a model of sodium chloride but she misplaced one of the molecules on the end.” At least, if he interpreted the picture he saw her staring at right she did. He’s never been wrong with his upside-down reading before, so he’s doing as his dad said. Confidence.

He opens his eyes. The interviewer is gaping at him. Shawn shuffles his feet, feeling something like shame, something like embarrassment, something like resentment.

But he pushes it down. Because he’s doing this for Gus.

“Well.” The interviewer pulls himself together and clears his throat. “You’re certainly one of the most interesting candidates I’ve had today.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus puts his backpack in his locker and hurries to his thankfully-close first class. He sets his books up tidily on the top, arranges his pencils by order of sharpest to dullest, and carefully lines up his two erasers to be perfectly symmetrical on either side of the desk.

And he sighs.

Even as the chalkboard at the front promises him an exciting class of complex multiplication, his mind wanders, and he feels the Lack of Presence more potently than he’s ever felt anything in his life. He can almost hear his best friend giving his usual first day of school speech. “Gus, this is our year. We’re becoming the coolest kids in school, I know it. By the end of the year–”

“We’ll be at the top!”

Gus blinks. “No way.”

Shawn slides into class. The Meitner uniform red polo fits him loosely, and he doesn’t have it tucked in like everyone else does, and he’s wearing obviously fake glasses.

And Gus has never been more confused in his life.

Shawn spots him and lights up. He practically jumps over the desks to get to Gus, plunking into the desk to Gus’s right and haphazardly dumping his school bag onto it.

“Shawn, how did you–!”

“Uh, same way you did.” Shawn leans over and lightly punches Gus’s arm. “No way I was letting you go to nerd school all alone.”

“But– but you’re not–”

“A lame nerd? That’s why I’m undercover.” Shawn touches the fake glasses. “See? I’m your best friend and your bodyguard, Gus. I’m going to help you be the best nerd of the nerds.”

“... How?”

“I can remember everything the teachers say and write on the board.”

“So you can fill in my notes where I might be missing them!”

“You’re taking notes?”

“Of course I am.”

“Do we have to?”

“I think so.”

“... I should’ve brought some paper.”

“Here.” Gus tears a page out and hands it to Shawn. “But you better not get me kicked out.”

“I won’t. Promise. That’s the whole mission Gus. You and I are gonna become kings of the nerds here.”

“... I do like the sound of that.”

#psych #psych tv #psych usa #psychusa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year ago

Text

Sealed, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of fighting, underage drinking, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 2 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 3, Delivered

“My god, you’ve grown so much, (Y/N),” your future mother-in-law cooed as she pulled you into a hug. You gave Mrs. Rogers a small, albeit forced smile as you pulled away and she got another look at you. She reached out and stroked your cheek, “my god, I remember when you were just a little girl. Barely knee high and going at it with Stevie like cats and dogs. Now look at you! You look like a refined young woman…”

“Yeah…it has been a while…”

“Been a while,” she giggled, pulling away from you, “been a while might have been a holiday or two…I haven’t seen you since your mother squirreled you and your sisters away from sight when you hit the end of fourth grade.”

You gave another forced smile, “yeah…I’m sorry. I-I would have called…or written, but I-I didn’t have anyone’s numbers memorized. A-and, well…mum thought it was best that I focus on school. She always said a good education helps all.”

“It’s okay sweetie,” she smiled softly, “we understand…Steve’s sister just got married to that Parker boy…sweetest little couple you’ve ever seen…you’ll see them at the reception at the end of the week. They’re still finishing their honeymoon.”

Your eyes widened, “oh no…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interr-“

“Oh, you’re not interrupting anything,” she laughed, “we insisted on Peter taking her on a nice little honeymoon to one of our villas in Milan. They get back from there in about a day or so, so they’ll have plenty of time to unwind before your nuptials…”

“Yeah…”

“Sarah…maybe we let (Y/N) get reacquainted with everyone…I don’t believe she’s gotten to say hello to her father yet…have you dear?”

“Oh…uhm no,” you admitted sadly, the smallest of frowns crossing your lips, “I-I haven’t seen daddy yet.”

“He’s in his office,” she smiled as she looped her arm through Mrs. Rogers, “go say hello to him and pull him from whatever he’s doing in there. He should be out here…enjoying the party. It is your homecoming after all…and soon you’ll be a Rogers and not a Barnes. All of you should be mingling…it’s your graduation and engagement party after all…”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t do two separate parties,” Mrs. Rogers sighed as she gave you a soft look, “the girl should be celebrating all of her accomplishments…a party for graduating high school, and a party for becoming officially engaged to my Stevie. I keep telling you Winnifred this all feels too cluttered…you should have let me plan at least one of the parties…allow me to showcase our home...”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Rogers,” you offered, giving your mom an out as you put a hand on her arm, “I’m perfectly fine with just the one party. Two parties so close to the wedding would have made it seem forced, wouldn’t it?”

She gave you a firm smile, “perhaps you’re right, sweetheart…you know, you always were a wise one, well before your time. And how many times do I have to remind you, it’s mom…you’re practically our daughter as it is, (Y/N). Lord knows Stevie’s been in love with you since the two of you were little…call me mom, sweetie…”

“Okay…mom…”

She chirped excitedly to your mother, cooing at how you calling her mom as well felt ‘all too right.’

Meanwhile, you rolled your eyes as you started back to the house, promising both mob wives that you would go to find your father, while ignoring the rest of the party goers and well-wishers.

You barely had an idea on who many of them were, only knowing that they were associated with one of the five families, and here to ‘strengthen ties.’

It sickened you to your stomach.

Everything was done to ‘strengthen ties,’ while they bickered behind closed doors and made stomach-turning deals. All of them wearing faux masks of happiness to see one another, when they would all too quickly stab one another in the back for a chance on a higher rung. But that was the nature of the beast. One that you’d become all too accustomed to.

You were glad when your parents sent you off to finishing school back in London. You didn’t have to deal with anyone and could just blend in without having to be a Barnes, or the future Mrs. Rogers.

“Champagne, miss?”

You smiled politely, holding a glass in each hand. When he gave you a look, you shrugged, “going to take one to my fiancé…or father. Whomever I can find first I suppose.”

He gave a nod, one that said that he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question it as he turned on his heel and went back to the main part of the party. When he was out of sight, you downed the first. Feeling the crisp, dry bite of the champagne, you rounded the corner and took the other, as though it was a shot yet again.

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth from the alcohol filled your belly. You placed the two empty glasses along a desk sitting in the entryway.

Sighing, you noticed that your father’s study door was closed.

It was always business with him.

But stepping forward you could hear voices behind the heavy wooden door. You frowned when you couldn’t recognize the one that was speaking, nor make out any words that he’d been saying. But a roar of laughter made you pause from knocking.

You recognized the melodic laugh of your brother, despite not seeing him since you were ten.

“You gotta stop getting into fights, punk,” the thirteen-year-old chuckled as he ruffled the sandy blonde hair of his best friend, “you’re twelve and nearly losing to a eight year old.”

“He was nine,” Steve grumbled, shooing his friend’s hand away, “and anyways…I didn’t need your help, Buck. I’m Steve Rogers. The heir to the Itali-“

“You’re the heir of every ass-kicking from here to the Bronx with how you go picking fights…” Bucky replied sternly, his laughter fading away, “come on man…I shouldn’t have to rescue you from a little kid…all I wanted to do was enjoy my book and-”

“He was annoying (Y/N).”

Bucky gave you a small frown and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your eight-year-old chest, “he wasn’t annoying me nearly as much as you were, Rogers…”

Steve’s nostrils flared, “you know…I did it to help you, (Y/N)! I did it because I was standing up for my wif-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Steven Grant Rogers!” You growled, cutting the older boy off as you wagged your finger in his face, “don’t you dare! I am not your wife!”

“But (Y/N), you are going to be it one day!” he said quickly, “you’re going to be my wife! And I’m going to burn down the world for you…or at least anyone that gets in your way.”

“You’re in my way,” you growled, “you’re always in my way. News flash, Steve…I don’t need you lurking around every corner waiting to be chivalrous. I don’t want it!”

“But (Y/N) I’m doing it because I love you,” he simpered, attempting to take your hand in his own, “I-

You sneered, your face scrunching up at the words as you ripped your hand from his, “stop it, Steve! I will never be your wife…because you won’t make it to adulthood. You won’t ever be anything other than a scrawny little twerp who can’t fight his own battles let alone the ones you pick over me…and you’re gonna get Bucky hurt…just like the last time.”

Steve frowned as he turned to look at his best friend. Bucky nervously pulled the sleeve down so that his cybernetic arm was covered by the sweater, “(Y/N)…”

You looked at your older brother, still angry over the accident that Steve caused years ago when he and Bucky first became friends.

“I-It was an accident, my lo-“

“I’m not your anything, Steve!” you spat, glaring at the young man, “now go away!”

Bucky took a step forward, “(Y/N), that’s enough. Steve was being a good fiancé and looking out for you. And right now, you’re being a spoiled brat and pushing people’s buttons.”

“You had to come save his butt!”

“Yeah…and he saved yours…it’s what family does for one another…” Bucky growled, defending his friend, “family makes sure that they’re safe and sound. That they-“

“Then why did he let you lose your arm, huh Bucky?”

“(Y/N)!”

You were snapped from your thoughts, and you noticed that the door to your father’s study was open, and man just inside the door, holding it open was none other than your big brother. You felt a bit of pride in your stomach as you launched yourself at him, “BUCKY!”

“Pipsqueak!” Bucky exclaimed happily as he easily lifted you from the ground, “What are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be out there enjoying your party!”

“Ughh, gag me with a spoon!” you groaned, “last thing I want is another snotty person from one of the families telling me congrats. I wanted to see you, robo-boy!”

“(Y/N)” your father scolded as he stood from his desk. Your heart melted as you peeled yourself away from your older brother and started towards your father.

In the years since you’d last seen him, he’d definitely aged.

He was only about fifty years old, but time had not been kind to him.

He kept his hair short and tight on the sides, as was normal from his military days, but the salt and pepper look that had graced the longer hair on top was all but silver on the sides.

He looked like an aged version of your older brother. A little bit smaller, and definitely less muscle-mass, as well as the obvious differences in the fact that your father had both of his arms, while one of your brothers was a robotic one, but they were very much the same otherwise.

“Daddy!”

He smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, becoming wrapped in the scent of the posh cologne that he wore that reminded you of smokey bourbon and fresh leather. His scolding of you had quickly faded and he allowed himself to melt under your touch.

“Oh, sweetheart…I’ve missed you…it’s nice to have all of my children so close to home again…”

“How’ve you been. Wha-“

“Good…good!” he smiled, pulling away from you, “but I don’t want to talk about me. Tonight is about you, honey. You and Steve!”

You groaned, hearing your fiancé’s name, “Daddy….can we just not talk about Steve Rogers for a second…you know that I don’t want to marry him.”

“Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.”

You paled as you turned around and noticed a man that you didn’t recognize, standing off to the side of the room. He was watching you interacting with his father while he kept his hands in his pockets.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you stared back at the attractive man. He was tall and muscular…well built. His sandy blonde hair was styled elegantly, and he was dressed to the nines. You felt your heart fluttering as he looked at you with his cerulean stare and pouty lips.

Was he someone new to your father’s crew?

But then the words snapped in your mind.

‘Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.’

And you paled once more.

NO!

It couldn’t be.

Your stomach turned.

Had you just been guilty of finding yourself attracted to him? To Steve Rogers.

You took a few steps away from your father and started to back out of the study. “Sweetheart, where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” you muttered softly as you backed through the door. You were nearly there until you stumbled when you took another step back. You thought you’d hit the edge of the door frame, but when you heard the crashing of a silver platter behind you and the crunching of glass, you spun, “oh fuck…”

You had knocked over a waiter carrying a tray of champagne from the catering space in the kitchen to the party outside.

“And here I was thinking it was bad luck to see the bride just on the night before the wedding,” the charming blonde smiled as he leaned against the bookcase. You shot him a glare, trying to focus your rage into him, instead of staring at his chiseled jawline and the way that his clothes clung to his muscular frame and slim waist. He pushed himself away from it and pulled his hands from his pockets. In three quick steps he was nearly on top of you, his arm already looping around your waist and pulling you close. Your lips parted as you stared into his cerulean eyes, unsure of what to do or say. A smirk tugged at his lips, “why did no one tell me that it’s also two days before?”

“S-steve…”

He chuckled, and the action sent a pulse straight to your core as he watched you, “have you been drinking, (Y/N?)”

You felt a whimper escaping the back of your throat as you lost all resolve. You weakly nodded, unable to form the words.

“I can smell it on your breath,” he chuckled softly, still holding you close, “You naughty girl…”

“Sweetheart…I’m sure you remember Steve…” your father reminded you, “perhaps…your brother should take you to the powder room though…or the kitchen and get you sobered up before we address the guests for coming to celebrate you and him…”

“Y-yeah…”

#signed sealed delivered #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america

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airbendertendou · 2 years ago

Text

IN CHAOS NOW! synopsis : your brother and his friends make a small trip to get you from school, only to run into the local gang.

cw ; reader is gender neutral. no pronouns used. [name] in place of y/n. high&low characters implied to be your adopted brothers.

h&l taglist ♥︎ @straysugzhpe @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @star2fishmeg @rouzuchan [if you would like to be added / removeed let me know ♥︎]

song inspo ; frost by txt

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♥︎——

toman + suzuran

“…does that make a little more sense?” The group of five stay silent before letting out a drawn out oh! in unison. You grin at their antics, shaking your head.

“Thanks again for doing this, [name].” Takemichi says. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, a sheepish smile on his face. “Hina gets upset with my grades, and I don’t want to bother her with re-teaching all of us this stuff.”

You ruffle his blond hair, “I don’t mind. I’m just glad I can help.”

“You help so much,” Atsushi speaks as he looks over his notes. Takuya nods enthusiastically, Yamagishi humming between them. “I don’t understand the teacher at all.”

The window leaks an orange haze as the sun begins to set ; a crow caws in the distance.

You tilt your head only to shake it after, hiding your unease with another smile. There’s no way. You look at the boys again, “need help with anything else?”

“Well—“

A loud bang echoes around the mostly empty school, an eerily familiar cackle hitting the walls soon after. With wide eyes, you and the group of five scramble outside of the classroom to see the commotion. A set of black and gold jackets are stood against… another set of black and gold jackets.

You blink, finding who you’re looking for as you walk up to him quickly. “Why are you here? Where’s my brother?”

“Curfew.” Is all Mercy says as another bang hits the wall. He glances to you, “it’s past your curfew.”

“Is it?” You mumble before pulling out your phone. It was past time for you to be home — an hour past, actually. You suck in a breath through your teeth, sending a sheepish grin his way. “My bad…”

A loud cackle hits the area again, “you’re a fun guy!” Binzo steps out of a pile of desks, knuckles bloody and a bruise forming on his cheek. In front of him, a boy with orange hair grins as he rubs his fist against his open palm. Binzo’s eyes widen, “I can’t wait to get rid of you.”

You act quickly, grabbing the wild boy’s ear and pushing his attention onto you. You frown his way, “and why are you fighting in my school?”

“Oh, hey [name].”

“Hi, Binzo,” you deadpan before letting him go. Across the hallway, you can see a boy identical to the orange haired one doing the same as you — calming a fight. Yamaguchi appears out of nowhere, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he leads you away from the fights damage.

Your brother is face to face with a blond, glaring as they stare each other down. They seem equal height wise but your brother has a different air to him ; a monstrous rage hidden he only uses to protect his siblings.

Your small study group follows behind you meekly, Kamui and Mercy behind them. Takemichi lets out a squeak at the sight of your brother, “he’s huge!”

You snicker to yourself and unknowingly catch the attention of a different blond. Smiling to your small group, you place your hand on Rao’s back and step into his line of vision. “Sorry I stayed so late ; I didn’t realize what time it was.”

Rao looks you over, as if making sure you’re okay. You roll your eyes, “I’m just fine, brother.” You point your thumb backwards to the group of trembling boys — their eyes widen at the attention. “Was with my tutor group.”

Atsushi smiles, a small laugh escaping his lips as he waves. “Nice to meet you mister Suzuran, sir.”

“Mister Suzuran,” Mercy laughs to himself.

You send a glare his way before looking at the new faces in front of you — and their matching uniforms. “That’s not a school, is it?”

“Toman!” Takemichi pipes up. He rushes to stand beside you and almost shield you from the group’s view. “My friends. Who are here because…”

“To hang out.” His voice is deep as he speaks, that taller guy. You raise your eyebrows — like you’re impressed — and look to your brother again. The rest of the crows have wandered up and gathered around you by now, shoulder to shoulder as they stood with you. “Why is Suzuran here?”

“You’ll have to excuse my brother and his friends,” you grin sweetly. Your eyes close and the irritation seems to leak from you as you hold the fake smile. “They have no manners. I’ll go get my things.”

The middle school boys follow behind you quickly, like sheep being herded to safety. The Toman boys eye the Crows apprehensively, but stay silent otherwise. You pop back up, school bag in hand as you stand beside your brother once more.

“We’ll go first. See you next week, boys!” you excuse yourself, pushing Binzo out of the school. Rao stuffs his hands in his pockets as your eyes land on him once more. “Showing up at my school just to fight… what nonsense.”

Takemichi is stopped by Mikey, a hand on his wrist as the leader stares at the spot you were just standing at. “Introduce me to your friend next time. ‘Kay, Mitchy?”

The blond can only agree helplessly as he watches a small light of intrigue fall into Mikey’s eyes.

——♥︎——

tenjiku + housen

“Housen…” a boy in a school uniform passes by them shakily. “Housen… it was them…”

“Kakucho,” the white-haired male speaks up. He pauses in his step, glancing from the boy to where he came from. “What is Housen?”

“A nearby academy,” Mochi answers instead. He nods ahead with his chin, hands in his pockets as a schoolyard comes into view. “They call them the Killer Corps. Four lower ranks, below the head of the school ; the strongest.”

Shion tilts his head with a hum, “sounds like us, huh?”

“What are they doing in my district?” Izana purses his lips, lilac eyes narrowing at the school in front of them. A small group of five stands there, gray uniforms sticking out from the plaid ones other students wore. He watches as the group is avoided ; people passing by averting their eyes and hunching their shoulders. “Hey. Housen, was it?”

Their heads turn, stone-faced but curious of the red clad group. Shion tries to look as intimidating as he can ; the others just stand behind their king. A blond speaks up, “is there a problem?”

Before anyone can speak, an energetic voice calls through the air. “Oh, what’s this? A surprise visit?”

The next thing Izana knows, the guy with the undercut has another person attached to him. You jump on Kenzo’s back, grin full force and pulling at your lips. “What a nice surprise! Good to see you, brother!”

“So noisy…” Yuken glares your way, but it falls into a soft smile as he watches Kenzo pull you from his back. “How was school, [name]?”

You deadpan, no emotion in your voice as you sigh. “It was school. What do you expect?” You turn to Housen’s leader unexpectedly, melting into something more gentle and quiet. “Hi, Sachio. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“We all came to get you,” Kenzo speaks up. You swat him away absentmindedly, eyes focused on Sachio. He clicks his tongue, “I’m your brother and you’re paying more attention to him? Hey, don’t get any ideas!”

You face your brother coyly, “ideas like what?”

Yuken snorts to himself, looking to the ground. It reminds him that there are outsiders watching this take place ; other guys wanting to size them up and fight them. His face smoothed out, “right. You guys. What did you need again?”

Izana’s mind is spiraling as he watches you and your brother joke around. You don’t look alike at all ; don’t share a smile or eye shape or laugh. Yet you greet each other joyfully and bask in each other’s company. It reminds him of earlier times ; simplier ones when maybe he would've called Mikey his brother.

Kakucho clears his throat and looks on awkwardly as his king stays frozen. "Just making sure there aren't any problems. Carry on."

Your grin and playful voice lingers on Izana's mind far longer than he thought it would.

——♥︎——

haitani's + fujio and kiyoshi's factions

You're walking out with a classmate — Rindou, he said to call him — when he lets out a small laugh. "Seems my brother is here."

"Oh, mine too!" Your brother has dragged Yasushi along with him — of course. The two are rarely separated. What surprised you, though, was the sight of a taller boy facing the two of them. He's smiling with his eyes closed, twirling one of the braids of his two-toned hair. "Looks like he's causing trouble already."

Rindou saunters up to the unknown guy, scrunching his nose at the sight of your brother and his best friend. It makes you giggle — they often received that reaction. A whistle is heard in the distance as Fujio and Tsukasa strut their way to you.

“[Name]!” Fujio grins your way. He holds out a plastic bag to you, shaking it enthusiastically. “Brought some snacks for you!”

“I didn’t realize you’d all be getting me today,” you grab the bag from him. Yasushi peers over your shoulder as you pillage through the snacks, humming at the selection. “Oh, this is my classmate… and his brother, I think.”

The dual-toned boy raises his hand into a wave, his smile growing condescending and troublesome. “Didn’t realize the middle school was so close by.”

Your eyes widen as you see the four boys beside you twitch. Fujio’s smile has fallen ; Yasushi lets out a cackle as he cracks his knuckles. You exchange a look with Tsukasa and step in front of them before anything can start. “That wasn’t very nice, Pippi Longstocking! You should apologize before things get ugly, hm?”

His grin falls flat, mirth hitting his eyes as Rindou lets a snort out at your insult. You let out a sigh and rub your forehead. “Brother, let’s get our friends away from here before a fight breaks out.”

Kiyoshi groans but agrees anyways, slinging his arms around Yasushi and Fujio. The two are still frowning — but a lollipop from you is placed in their mouths in hopes of calming them down.

Looking back to the blond, you wave as Tsukasa waits on you. “See you Monday, Rindou!” You skip up to your group, looping your arm through Tsuakasa’s as you walk.

Ran lets out a laugh as he looks at Rindou’s complacent form. “Catching feelings, brother?”

Rindou shoves him with flushed cheeks and a frown. “You’re seeing things.”

——♥︎——

valhalla + senomon

Ryo often walked you home from school. As soon as your brother was in his car, the quiet boy was on his way to you — feeling as if he had some type of unspoken duty to do for you. You smile at the sight of him leaning against the school's wall, stark red uniform standing out against the white building.

A tap to your shoulder brings your attention to a boy wearing glasses. His longer hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a grimace on his face as he side-steps nervously. "[Name]... you don't mind looking over this for me, do you?"

He holds a mess of paper out to you — one you recognize as grammar homework. You glance at Ryo, smiling at him reasurringly as you take the paper. As you read over it, the boy in red takes your school bag and slings it over his own shoulder. "Just a few mistakes this time, Baji!"

"This one? I didn't think it was right," Baji frowns as he looks it over You walk between him and Ryo, messily and hurridly trying to explain everything Baji was confused about. "That one and— 'Tora?"

Outside of your building stands your brother and his following. Kohei's sneer is painting his face — as always — as two other boys face him. One is smoking, tattooes on his hands while the other has an intricate tattoo on his neck, his fiists clenched and eyes narrowed in. Ryo comes to a stop, "Kohei. You're here."

"Of course I'm here," he spits out. He makes his way to you, nose curling at the sight of Baji as he stands in front of you, blocking you from view. "Heard there were delinquents lingering about."

You grin, putting your chin on his shoulder. "And you decided to protect little ol' me? How sweet, brother!"

Kohei grimaces at you, "shut your mouth."

"No delinquents," Baji grins. He saunters over to the strangers, letting his hair down and taking his glasses off. "Just my friends!"

Scratching the back of your ear, you share a look with Ryo. "Well— same thing, really?"

The taller guy stomps his cigarette out, staring stonely at your brother. He breathes out a puff of smoke, "what're some rich kids doin' here? This is our part'a town."

"We don't want any problems." Ryo speaks before Kohei can. It's the best choice —your brother started and ended fights, never putting himself in the middle. He steps closer to you, "just walking this one home. That's all."

Golden eyes hit you, the jingle of his earring echoing at he tilts his head. You meet his gaze, looking away soon after and walking past your brother to Baji. You hand over another paper or two, "don't forget these. Let me know if you need anymore help — I'm still willing to help!"

"Thanks, [name]. See you tomorrow."

You pull your brother from the potential fight, letting him pout and whine as you ignore his words. Ryo smirks at your eye-rolls, nudging you and letting you tease Kohei freely. A golden gaze is still sinking into your skin as you peek over your shoulder, stealing another glance at the tiger boy. He's still staring.

"Tora," Baji speaks up. He narrows his eyes as Kazutora blinks rapidly, breaking his stare on you. "Be careful with that one. Don't want to make Senomon angry."

Kazutora smiles to himself, "wouldn't dream of it. Let's go."

——♥︎—— airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

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schraubd · 1 year ago

Text

How To Train Your Writer

Right now, on a purely technical/stylistic level, ChatGPT is an okay writer.

It's not great. But it's not bad, either. It's better (and again, we're talking purely technical here -- leaving aside factual hallucinations and the like) than some of my students, and I teach at a law school. Of course, even when I taught undergraduates I was inordinately concerned that many of my students seemingly never learned and never were taught how to write. So there has always been a cadre of students who are very smart and diligent, but just didn't really have writing in their toolkit. And I'd say ChatGPT has now exceeded their level.

The thing that worries me most about ChatGPT, though, isn't that it's better than some of my law students. It's that it will always be better than essentially every middle schooler.

Learning to write is a process. Repetition is an important part of that process (this blog was a great asset to my writing just because it meant I was writing essentially every day for years). But part of that process is writing repeatedly even when one was is not good at writing. Writing a bunch of objectively mediocre essays in middle school is how you learn to write better ones in high school and even better ones in college.

ChatGPT is going to short-circuit that scaffolding. It is one thing to say that an excellent writer in, say, high school, can still outperform ChatGPT. But how will that kid become excellent if, in the years leading up to that, they're always going to underperform a bot that could do all their homework in 35 seconds? The pressure to kick that work over to the bot will be irresistible, and we're already learning that it's difficult-to-impossible to catch. How can we get middle schoolers to spend time being bad writers when they can instantly access tools that are better?

There might be workarounds. I've heard suggestions of reverting to long-hand essay writing and more in-class assignments. There might be ways to leverage ChatGPT as a comparator -- have them write their own essay, then compare it to a AI-generated one and play spot-the-difference. I think frankly that we might also be wise to abolish grading, at least in lower-level writing oriented classes, to take away that temptation to use the bot. I don't care how conscientious you are, there aren't a lot of 14 year olds who can stand putting in hours trying to actually do their homework and then getting blown out of the water by little Cameron who popped the prompt into an LLM and 45 seconds later is back to playing Overwatch. And again, that's going to be the reality, because ChatGPT's output just is better than anything one can reasonably expect a young writer to produce.

In many ways, large language models are like any mechanism of mass production. They displace older artisans, not because their product is better -- it isn't, it's objectively worse -- but on sheer volume and accessibility. The art is worse, but it's available to the masses on the cheap.

And like with mass production, this isn't necessarily a bad thing even though it's disruptive. It's fine that many people now can, in effect, be "okay writers" essentially for free. It's like mass-produced clothing -- yes, most people's t-shirts are of lower-quality than a bespoke Italian suit, but that's okay because now most people can afford a bunch of t-shirts that are of acceptable quality (albeit far less good than a bespoke Italian suit). The alternative was never "everyone gets an entire wardrobe of bespoke Italian suits", it was "a couple of people enjoy the benefits of intense luxury and most people get scraps." Likewise, I'm not so naive as to think that most people in absence of ChatGPT would have become great writers. So this is a net benefit -- it brings acceptable-level writing to the masses.

If that was all that happened -- the big middle gets expanded access to cheap, okay writing, with "artisanal" great writing remaining costly and being reserved for the "elite" -- it might not be that bad. But the question is whether this process will inevitably short-circuit the development of great writers. You have to pass through a long period of being a crummy writer before you become a good or great writer. Who is still going to do that when adequacy is so easily at hand?

I'm not tempted to use ChatGPT because even though my writing takes longer, I'm confident that at the end my work product will be better. But that's only true because I spent a long time writing terribly. Luckily for me, I didn't have an alternative. Kids these days? They absolutely have an alternative. It's going to be very hard to get them to pass that up.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/zlrha2Q

#artificial intelligence #writing

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instructionsnotincluded · 2 months ago

Note

Can we get a snippet of angry Logan? 👀

Yessss! Let’s do that! 😉👀

MDNI 18+ | Boys being gross, references to sex, language, Logan’s angry.

Read Wild Winds Here!

Rafe slipped his hand over her shoulder, gently pulling her towards him, Logan going easily now that their argument was resolved, and just as his lips touched her forehead did her attention shift.

“She’s gotta be a virgin, dude.”

“I dunno,” the newest member of the valet team shook his head, the same guy who mistook her as a guest a few weeks ago, “I think the innocent look is just an act. Virgins are hard to find.”

“I’m telling you,” she turned her head fully despite Rafe trying to hug her, seeing one of the guys a grade above JJ talking. Andrew—she was pretty sure that was his name. “She’s a total virgin, and I gotta have it.”

“Who are they talking about?” Logan asked, more to herself as she felt Rafe’s wrists cross to rest on her lower back, tilting his head up so she could slide under it.

“I don’t kno—”

“Imagine those big eyes looking up at you…” Andrew swatted the new guy with the back of his hand, both of them laughing, “I gotta pop that cherry, it’s killin’ me thinking she’s untouched.”

“Be careful, bro. JJ’s not gonna let that happen. Dude’s basically pissed a circle around her…”

“Ellie?” Logan pulled away, her shoulders tightening as she felt Rafe reach for her arm, “They’re talking about Ellie?!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe pulled her back when Logan moved to walk in their direction, “you can’t go around cracking skulls because people are talking, doll.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan pulled her arm from his grip, “Fucking watch me.”

“Logan—”

Although Rafe was stronger, Logan was faster, moving quickly away from her car where Rafe had parked it before he could grab her hand, watching as the valet stand, and by extension the boys, grew closer.

The boys noticed her before she said anything, the new one averting his gaze as Andrew leaned against the stand, “Logan—good to see you this fine Wednesday afternoon. I thought you worked this morning?”

“Yeah, I just got off and I couldn’t help but overhear you talking…” The color in both boys’ faces drained and Logan rested her hands on her hips, “You think Ellie’s a virgin, huh?” No one said anything, simply blinking at her owlishly, “What? You can’t talk anymore…?”

“W—we were just taking,” Andrew cleared his throat, “it wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone else…”

“Does that make it ok to say?” Logan asked, “Ellie’s sex life is none of your concern unless she chooses to discuss it with you. God forbid she invites you into it, so why don’t you two find something else to talk about, huh? Discussing your coworkers sexual history should be far from any of your conversations. It’s disrespectful, it’s gross, and it’s basically an HR violation, so…”

Andrew held his hands up and the new guy looked about ready to wet himself, both of them nodding with slightly parted lips before Logan turned to step off the curb, prepared to return to Rafe and her car when an all too familiar Camaro rolled to a stop right in front of her.

Christopher’s shit eating grin greeted her and Logan only exhaled as he pushed open the door and climbed out. He was dressed in a nice suit she hadn’t ever seen him wear when they were together, adjusting the jacket as he crossed in front of the vehicle, shiny metal watch catching in the sunlight.

“She givin’ you boys a hard time?” Christopher asked, stretching his arm out to hand over his car keys.

“No, sir…”

“Mhmm.” Christopher handed over a few folded bills after his key, stepping up onto the curb with his designer dress shoes, “I know a Logan Maybank ass chewing when I see one. Word from the wise, just nod and let her lose steam…”

Logan scoffed, her blood starting to heat more.

Christopher paused, pulling the sunglasses off his face before he winked at her, dark eyes lingering on her with a twinge of something that only made her more angry, “She likes a few other things too after that, but uh, you’re probably too young for her…” He looked her over, gaze flickering pointedly over her shoulder beyond his car, “Or are you into the young ones now, Lo-Lo?”

A sickly sweet smile formed across her mouth before she said, “Choke on your lunch, Chris.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart.”

—

Tagging @cdragons since Ellie belongs to her! Read her story here!

#obx-chats #fic: wild winds #logan x rafe #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x original female character #rafe cameron fan fiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #Wild winds: snippets

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crguang · 2 months ago

Note

ahajsksbywpqp sat guess who has 2 tests in the same week in the same class next week. Not very fun for me. anyway I was think abt Kafka (honestly when am I not is the real question). See if it wasn’t Kafka in ur au and I was r I would definitely turn her in for the money, but I unfortunately think I might like Kafka just like a little bit ig so I don’t think k would be able to do that .

Reread part 3 today is her fingers twitching bc she wants to shoot something or is it just bc Kafka and her fingers. Ok thats not what I meant but also…what I meant was that she works with her fingers a lot I wish she used them on me instrument, guns, etc. we still haven’t gotten an in game Kafka appearance w an actual violin, it probably won’t happen but I’m still holding out. And she’s the highest threat level possible for a criminal but she STILL commits petty theft. She is so I saw someone say that the stellaron hunters were all siblings, Kafka and blade are like the older siblings that have to drive/pay for everything, silver wolf is the gamer (so original) and firefly is the youngest. Wish they had more in game interactions, or like they had synergy, meta wise, since canonically they’re one of the most tight knit groups.

oh also your inbox must be full as fuck so it’s fine if you don’t reply to everything, esp bc you answer a lot of stuff, and even tho someone already said this ur rlly great to talk to ur thoughts are always more coherent than mine. And we all get to simp over hot fictional women together.

ngl I might start playing ptn, like I’ve been seeing screenshots and…wow, I don’t think I have enough storage tho. I think the two types of characters I usually like are tiny mentally ill ones and hot evil women, so…

im so sorry my messages are always so long btw, I keep rambling 😭

-🌠

aaaa study well and good luck for your tests!!! hope you get a good grade and if u dint i will hack i to your prof’s computer and change it for you

im with you entirely, if it was anyone else in that story i wouldve already called the cops LMFAOOO kafka gets privileges because shes hot and my fav unfortunately… for the finger thing, i think its just one of her quirks! in her idle she mimics playing the violin and like you said she has very dexterous hands (even mentions it in a voice line) so i think she’d absentmindedly move them around when her mind is elsewhere. this is the kind of overthinking i was talking about, when i map out a character in my head i think about the most irrelevant stuff that dont matter😭 but imo they add to her charm a little and make her a rounder character, idk. AND YES i love that her crimes go from suicide inducement to petty theft shes so ridiculous hfjfhdhfj that time in her character story where she just walked in a store and took clothes off the rack then left in front of everyone… shes funny as hell😭

i see the SH as family too! silver wolf and firefly are sisters to me, and both of them are def kafka’s little sisters. i think silver wolf is the youngest though, she even gives off sassy youngest child vibes. i wish they could work together too, having them all in one team would be so nice. but it’s also cool that each of them has a speciality, it makes sense for the work they do

my inbox is full i think i have around 70 asks rn…😭 but to be fair a lot of them are veryyy old i just havent gotten around to cleaning up my blog yet, i’ll do it at the same time i change my masterlist and actually make it pretty to look at. i usually try to click on notifs as soon as i see them but like i said, i just forget to type my answers </3

and omg. anon. if your type is mentally ill and hot evil women ptn is literally the game for you. there is an abundance of mentally ill women in there, trust me… like there’s every kind of character you could want in that game— you could give me a specific type and i could find you a character that matches it, you should definitely play. and if you do, do it before the second anniversary ends (starts around mid/late-october) bc trust me you are gonna be upset if you miss shalom :/

dont worry abt ramblingggg i love talking to u and answering every point it’s really nice!!

#sat answers #🌠 anon

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authoressskr · 2 years ago

Text

Those Are *Not* Easter Eggs

Characters: f!Plus!SizeReader (but not a ton is mentioned body wise, so can be any type), Eddie Munson, Mentions/Small interactions with The Party, Wayne Munson, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Steve and Robin.

Warnings: SMUT, Language, & as always - no Beta

Notes: dividers are by the fabulous, wonderful @firefly-graphics

Word Count: 6863

Summary: Just some Easter smut. Eddie has graduated, reader is implied same age as Nancy/Robin. They have an apartment together. I picture this as a no upside down au, but however you read into it is fine with me.

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post, translate, or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION. 18+ ONLY PLEASE, MINORS DNI all content providers don’t want serious repercussions from underage interactions, myself included.

-+- REBLOGGING & Comments are fine and very appreciated! -+-

“Hey bunny,” The voice comes from your right as you come down the narrow row to claim a seat in the back of the mixed-grade history classroom. Looking down, you’re met with a sight; big brown eyes were nearly hidden behind dark shaggy bangs, a worn gray Metallica shirt, and a denim battle jacket - all worn with a smirk. Whoever he is then flashes his pearly teeth up at you, stretching his left foot out from under the desk as you chance a look over your shoulder. “I was talking to you, bunny.”

“Bunny?” You slide into your seat, confused as to why the dark-haired boy is calling you that. He perks up a bit, straightening as his ever-widening smile grows to show the smile lines by his eyes. You find it adorable and a sharp contradiction to the way he dresses.

“Swear my foot almost started thumping when I saw you come in like that.”

“Like what?”

“Dressed in those soft tan pants and that dark pink shirt? You got me all twitterpated and shit, bunny.” Your hand flying up to smother your burst of laughter only makes his smile widen until dimples appear. Not sure where the burst of confidence comes from, you lean forward a bit as the last stragglers of students enter the class, the boy mirroring your move, forearm braced on the light brown wood of the desk. Your eyes flit from his face to his heavy silver rings that barely manage a half-hearted shine in the fluorescent lights above.

“Does that make you Thumper or Bambi, with those big brown eyes?”

“You can call me whatever the hell you like, bunny,” He stage whispers as the class sounds around you both dim, your eyes meeting his again.

“So you’ll have no problem with me yelling ‘Bambi’ down the hallway?”

“With that sweet voice? Nah,” He eases back into his seat just so, splaying back into a more relaxed position - the picture of confidence. “Bambi,” He pauses, tilting his head from left to right before turning to look directly at you again, drawing you in with those chocolate eyes. “Thumper.” Head goes back to the left. “Eddie. I’m not picky.” You hum, twisting a bit downward to busy yourself with pulling out a notebook from your backpack; trying desperately to hide and quell the embarrassment and flustered feelings swirling in your gut now as you scrawl your name, the date, and ‘junior year’ just beside it.

The teacher calls the class to order, voice monotone as he calls out attendance.

You see a slip of paper come into your peripheral, looking again at the boy to your left; Eddie, you remind yourself as fingers subtly take the paper from his grasp.

Bunny -

You like Dungeons and Dragons or Twinkies?

Turning your head just so towards Eddie, gesturing your green painted nails at the paper, perplexed but trying not to smile too big at his odd question.

I’ve never played that. And yes.

Slipping the paper onto his desk corner before raising your hand in reply to the teacher calling your name for attendance.

You have a pretty name, bunny

Wanna sit with me at lunch? I’ll share my Twinkies with you

And tell you about D&D

And our future little bunnies

Fucking eyebrows could go no further up as you read the last line, turning to stare at him fully with wide eyes.

Eddie just grins and raises his hand for attendance, never breaking eye contact.

You smile down at the lines of empty baskets, all adorned with white ribbons featuring little gray bunnies, assembled on two long tables as you think back on your first meeting with Eddie Munson.

The first was as magical a meeting as you can have in high school - and honestly the most important one for you after moving here your junior year. Not only did Eddie Munson, the extrovert nerd who was unafraid to speak his mind or be who he was, take your quiet, wallflower self under his wing. A few months later, once you’d begun to start unraveling who Eddie was, he had shown up by your locker one morning uncharacteristically nervous and asking if you would be willing to go out with him.

“A date date, bunny.” He had explained, playing with the heaviest of his rings on his left hand, staring intensely at your face as he waited for an answer. Your own fingers reach out and wrap firmly around his hand, smiling at Eddie softly.

“I’d love to go on a date date with you, Eds.”

You’d been together ever since; just over two years now. After straightening a few of the baskets, making sure that everything is as perfect as you can make it you make a mental reminder that if you could get through the rest of this morning and afternoon, you’ll be looking forward to more than just a date date with Eddie.

You had - probably a bit foolishly - volunteered to help your mom out this year with the Hawkins Hospital’s Annual Easter Egg Hunt. She had been “randomly” chosen (one of the candy stripers had told you in hushed tones two weeks ago that it was because no one else wanted to and she hadn’t done it yet, making you try not to grimace at the revelation) to help the head nurse and the dean of the hospital’s secretary plan the event, but as it turns out, the head nurse was busy with a handful of walking pneumonia cases. And the secretary was suddenly thrust into trying to deal with some fallout of one of the orderlies committing adultery with the hospital kitchen manager. So the burden had fallen solely to her, and knowing how easily stressed your mom becomes dealing with things outside of her comfort spheres - you and Tiffany, the newest nurse who had very kindly volunteered. Since then you’d been going all sorts of hours that you weren’t working part-time at the library or at the community college to help make this something entertaining and fun for the children of Hawkins.

Eddie swears the other night you were murmuring about coloring eggs and tablecloths in your sleep - *that’s* how consuming it’s become.

Organizing this had of course cut into your time with your boyfriend, only managing three date nights in the last month and a half. Falling asleep for the last two Fridays in a row at Steve’s movie nights were added to the list of negligence you felt toward not just your boyfriend, but your friends. Keeping your grades up, the library maintained, and somewhat of a freaking social life with planning this egg hunt was leeching you dry.

However, ecstatic was the only way to describe how you’d be feeling tomorrow - free of Easter pastels, colored eggs, kids' activities, and Tiffany’s saccharine demeanor.

Getting home last Wednesday, Eddie had just gotten home from work himself, frowning at your heavy eyelids and heavy sighs as you tried to will yourself to find something to make for dinner for the two of you.

“Bunny,” Eddie had admonished softly, coming behind you and closing the refrigerator door. “Wayne gave me a frozen lasagna. That woman he’s been flirting with who moved in next door is keeping him very well fed, so he shared since he knows you’re just running your little self into the fucking ground.” Turning in his embrace, you shove your face into his chest, inhaling his scent as his hands run up and down your back.

“‘M sorry, honey,” You whine softly into his shirt, trying so hard not to cry.

“Don’t be sorry, bunny. I love what you’re doing - most of the time it seems to make you happy to help. Buuuuuttt,” He pulls back, his right hand taking hold of your chin, his eyes boring down at you. “You need to give some of the duties back to your mom and Tiffany. I get their busy with their jobs, but they just have their jobs. You got a job and school. Please, baby. For me?” He knows you usually give in to him - you are too soft-hearted not to when he asks for something specific. Especially when you know Eddie is very much like you in the respect that he doesn’t like asking for things. He waits for your answer, bracing himself a bit for your excuses as to why you can manage, but instead, you nod gently, his finger and thumb still holding your chin as you breathe out a soft ‘yes’. His dark eyebrow raises just so before leaning a bit forward to kiss your forehead. “Thank you bunny. Now, let me get that food into the oven and I’ll help you.”

In your slower-running mind, the infliction he’d put on help had passed over your head.

But you’d caught on pretty fucking quickly after hearing the slight squeak of the oven door. Forearm thrown over your eyes as the radio played softly in the corner, you hadn’t been aware until Eddie’s hands settled suddenly on the tops of your thighs, jumping slightly in reaction and arm falling back to the arm of the chair.

“Hi,” Eddie coos with a wide grin from his kneeling position, brown eyes showing his mirth. “Let’s get these off.” Lithe fingers are already unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down before he finishes his damn sentence. “Alright bunny, we have about an hour before the food is ready. Can you be a good girl and gimme a few orgasms, huh?” Swallowing hard you nod, making those smile lines appear as he spreads your legs apart.

One thing about Eddie is he is intense. He loves intensely. He dislikes intensely. And sweet baby Jesus, does this man fuck intensely.

It’s not even that he’s rough or overly enthusiastic, no. His soul focus is you. That is enough to make you squirm. Which Eddie knows. He knows you like the back of his hand. Baring your most intimate parts to his eager mouth, you suck in a sharp breath as his tongue licks a broad stripe upward before his tongue flicks your clit. You feel him chuckle as he adds in a finger, his mouth focusing on drawing unknown symbols across your button as your fingers slide into his messy waves.

Honestly, you had assumed it might take you a bit longer to come with all the stress, but between the crook of Eddie’s fingers just against that spongy spot inside you and the constant change and flicker of his tongue licking and sucking, you come embarrassingly fast with handfuls of his hair gripped tightly as he groans into your cunt.

Eddie’s kissing your left thigh as his free hand squeezes and massages the right, working you through the last bits of your orgasm, withdrawing his fingers and sticking them into his mouth. “Mmmhmm. Well, there…that’s one.”

“Shut up,” You mutter, hands releasing quickly from his hair to cover your face. Eddie’s fingers slide easily into your pussy, chuckling as you jump again before moaning loudly above him.

“I know you love to shut me up with this perfect pussy, huh bunny? Got that one out of you in less than ten minutes. Gotta say I might start timing how fast I can get you to come.” Throwing your head back, you groan as Eddie throws your legs over his shoulders, diving right back in.

“It’s the fucking…stare…” You pant out, his big brown eyes blinking up at you as he slurps and groans, a whine escaping from you, high and needy. “Please, Eddie.” Your fingers return to his hair, sliding against his scalp before tightening, his own whine amplifying your pleasure. His ringed fingers have slid beneath your shirt, very happy you had shed your bra immediately after coming home, switching between kneading your breast and tugging on your nipple, rolling your hips forward to press his face closer. “Fuck!”

“Baby, you’re gonna give me a complex,” Eddie smirks out as you push his head away from your oversensitive pussy, shoving at his shoulders as well until there is room for you to slide out of the chair and onto the carpet before him.

“You already have one, Eddie. You know you’re amazing at sex,” You’re tugging his shirt off, his arms raised to help you before reaching out to cup your face in his hands and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth. The kiss does slow down your eager hands a bit, fingers settling on his waist. As he pulls away, he’s wearing that soft expression, the one he had the first time he told you he loved you, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“You’re biased. But I’m only amazing at sex cause it’s sex with you. We go together, bunny,” Nodding at his words before leaning forward to kiss him again, shorter this time, his buckle being pulled open and his own jeans being shoved down.

Fingers wrap around his hard and leaking cock, your thumb sliding over his slit as Eddie’s head lolls back with a low groan. “Well, I think I get to be biased because it’s just so fucking good,” You chuckle out before leaning forward to mouth at his tattoos, trailing down to his nipples - first the left and then the right, pumping him with your hand the entire time.

“Oooh - fuck. Okay. Okay! Couch. Now.” Eddie doesn’t give you much time to react, he’s standing, hands under your armpits to get you from your kneeling position all while trying to kick his jeans the rest of the way off as you laugh, making him halt again to kiss you. You tug your shirt off, Eddie taking in the sight with a grunt. “Gorgeous, bunny.”

Rolling your eyes, you settle on your back on the couch, hands grabbing out for Eddie as he leans over, one knee propped between your legs as he lowers himself down. Wrapping one hand behind your left knee, he lifts it a smidge, his other hand gripping himself and giving a few strokes before running the tip through your wet folds and tapping his head against your clit twice. He waits until he hears a little moan from you before notching his head just inside your cunt. Your hands scramble to his back and ass, trying to pull him into you, only to suddenly have the air punched from you as Eddie snaps his hips forward, filling you to the brim. He holds himself still, his right hand over your shoulder as he watches the emotions roll across your face before hearing you sigh heavily, eyelids fluttering open to stare up at the man you love.

“Hi,” You whisper, hands sliding up his narrow hips and chest to cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping along his cheeks as you stare into his chocolate eyes. Swallowing hard you fight back tears, Eddie leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Thank you, Eddie.” Something flits through his eyes as you say that, the hand behind your knee suddenly pressing that leg towards you, a soft ‘oof’ being pushed out at the movement.

If only you’d realized then…

Eddie eases back, leaving just his tip nestled within before snapping back harshly, setting a brutal pace as he drops the grip on your leg, instead his fingers slide between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit.

“Oh, bunny,” He pants against your mouth, “As much as I fucking enjoy watching you fall apart for me…” Your whines seem to spur him on, hands sliding from his face to claw at his back. It’s all at once too much, too sharp, too hard. But on the other side of the coin, it’s not enough. Eddie seems to just know intuitively that you need more, closer. He drops most of his weight down, using his knees to help drive himself forward, head bent down to tug at your right nipple with his teeth. As you cry out at the onslaught, Eddie releases your breast from his mouth with a wet plop, moving to nuzzle the other as his hips snap forward harder. “Lookit, how your sweet, plump body moves for me. How your soft fucking body just needs me, sucking me in. Fuck. Greedy pussy my bunny has.” The heavy pants between his words and the deep groan, right as he snapped his hips forward, punching that spot inside of you just right as his fingers never stopped their assault, sends you hurtling over the fucking cliff. The cry of his name and your cunt squeezing him pull a groaning laugh from him, feeling your teeth sink into his shoulder just after for just a handful of seconds, his hips slowing a bit. He loves watching you come, the veins in your neck as you arch and your eyes squeezed closed before Eddie orders you to open them. “That’s three, bunny. I know you can give me one more before food’s done.”

“I can,” You whimper out, knowing it’s what he wants. And if Eddie would just keep fucking you like that, you’d give him whatever he asks. His hand smooths back some pieces from where they stick against your forehead before snapping his hips forward once, pausing as you writhe a bit under him before he smiles at you, all teeth and dimples.

“Good. Good. Now, can you be a good bunny and get on your hands and knees for me baby?” He withdraws from you, a slick, wet noise before his hands are helping to turn you around. You can feel the metal dig into the meat of your ass as he grabs hold of it, groaning before smoothing his hands over them. “Perfect, bunny, perfect. So fucking -” He sinks himself back into your cunt in one smooth thrust, grunting out your name, “Go-ood for me, aren’t you?” You nod eagerly against the cushion, his left hand sliding up your back to hold the back of your neck as he begins to thrust, short and quick, not withdrawing from your heat as much as before. “Now, bunny,” His left-hand releases your neck, you whining from the loss before he switches hands - the left now gripping your hip tightly as his right slides around to brush against your clit. It’s like a livewire now, your body pushing back automatically to spear yourself deeper on his cock. “I need you to promise me something…” But this motherfucker begins to fuck you in earnest then, guitar-scarred fingers lightly and teasingly swiping over your button as you keen beneath him, ass pushing back to meet his rough thrusts.

“Please. Please. Please. Eddie. Yes. Please,” It all comes out in a whined-out jumble, wanting to agree because you want him to come. You want him to cover you with his weight, pressing his lips against your throat as he groans out the filthiest fucking things he’s done to you - and absolutely will do again - as he fills you hard enough to punch the air from you in sharp pants, his left hand tangling with yours as he pushes you both towards your ends.

“You promise - fuck, bunny - you promise me we aren’t leaving this damn apartment til Monday,” You hear him swallow hard, his chest covering your back just how you wanted, teeth nipping at your shoulder and neck. “You finish your Easter shit and when we get home, you’re gonna be naked. Under me,” Eddie groans as he rolls his hips before pushing your knees a little further apart. “Over me. Fucking everywhere like the weekend we moved in here. And I’m gonna mark you up, baby. All over your soft little bunny body. Until your class Monday morning.” Honestly, you’re so lost in his voice that you weren’t paying as much attention to the words per se as you should have been - but you’ll argue until you are blue in the face that that is his fault. You’re panting with your cheek pressed against the couch cushion as Eddie rails into you, crying out his name as he begins to slow his pace.

“Eddie!”

“Promise me and I’ll give you want you want, baby.” Your brain sorts through all he’s been saying, lifting your head a little to nod enthusiastically as tears slip down your cheeks.

“I promise! Please! I promise til Monday class!” Eddie’s sudden hard thrust sends you forward, your hand scrambling out to brace against the arm of the couch as he hits your g-spot with near precision with each sharp move. “Fuck, Eddie. Fuuuckk,” You groan, feeling his fingers switch to quick, hard back-and-forth movement on your clit as Eddie moans out your praises.

“That’s it. My good girl. Promising me like a good bunny. And good girls get fucked how they want, huh? Fucking griping me like a goddamn vice,” You feel his teeth bite down hard at that juncture of your shoulder and neck, licking over it sweetly to soothe the sting before continuing with a groan. “Gonna let your Thumper fill up your pussy? Let me fuck our little bunnies into this perfect little cunt?” He can feel the way your grip him, smirking into the hair behind your ears at your reaction. “Ooh, grip me like that again, baby and I’ll fucking fill you up.”

“Let me spank you and tease you with the handcuffs on and you can, Thumper,” You pant out lowly, so close you can taste it as Eddie’s hips stutter for a beat.

“Anything. You. Fucking. Want. Bunny,” Every word is punctuated by a sharp thrust, the continuous pressure on your clit coupled with Eddie’s precision and words, your orgasm crashes over you, crying out Eddie’s name loudly as the slap slap slap of skin continues about eight more times before Eddie is grunting out your name and spilling into you, collapsing atop you before tugging you with him as he shuffled a bit towards the back of the couch, taking some pressure off you but keeping his cock nestled within. “Fuck. I love you, bunny.”

“I love you,” You breathe out after a long minute, turning your head as best you can as he cranes his forward to kiss you.

You physically have to shake your head to try to refocus - not thinking of the incentive…but well you were definitely still just as twitterpated as Eddie.

Brought back fully to the present, albeit it now hornier, with a loud sing-song call of your name across the small clearing, you manage to paste on a smile and flash a thumbs up to Tiffany. Smoothing a hand over your new slate blue dress dotted with tiny white flowers, a small sigh escapes as you pick up the clipboard from the end of the first table. Pen tapping the paper, going over all the unchecked boxes once more, and shoving all the dirty, wanting thoughts away for the time being.

___ Hide Eggs within limits {paper ribbons cordoned off by the hospital staff}

___ Jonathan pictures {whole event; with Easter Bunny; etc}

___ Egg hunt at 11 am sharp

___ Prize for the golden egg {$20}

___ Cleanup + reminder for everyone that desserts will be available in the new wing of the hospital

Heading towards the edge of the clearing that held a bright white Easter banner on two red striped poles, looking out for your friends to exit soon as the clouds seem to part temporarily. Eddie and company (even Joyce and Hopper) had all agreed to help hide the eggs, nearly making you cry as you had looked at the ‘Be the Bunny’ volunteer list at the hospital two weeks ago. Checking off the first line as Robin comes into view with Max just steps behind her, you feel a weight lift. She’s grinning at you, making your forehead furrow a bit as you try to figure out what this particular Robin brand grin is about. Steve isn’t far behind Max, with Will on one side and Dustin on the other, Lucas and Erica shooting each other *looks* as they trudge along beside Will.

Dustin is the one to begin pointing as Steve’s face changes to perplexed. You catch Robin’s shady glare just as you turn fully around.

The scene before you is…hard to describe at first.

You see Andy, Chance, Josh, as well as three sophomores all from the basketball team rushing towards you as Jason, Kimberly, and Angela - former cheerleaders and also former girlfriends of Chase - all noisily cheering a handful of feet away. It takes seconds, the boys turning to give you their backs, their Sunday slacks suddenly swept downward as they bend forward, flashing very odd colors, and you swore for a hot second - decorated, balls along with their nasty ass backdoors.

“Jesus!” You hear Mike shout in the most disgusted voice, followed promptly by a booming yell from Hopper somewhere over your left shoulder. Then the boys are all shuffling their pants up as they attempt to start moving to get away, not quite as quickly nor efficiently as they’d come. Jason and the girls had disappeared in a flash nearly as suddenly as Eddie appears at your side.

“Well, those were definitely not Easter eggs. Man, that was disgusting!” You spit out, gagging slightly before panic glancing around the area to make sure no children are around. “Thank fuck no kids are around. Dipshits.” Eddie leans forward, nuzzling behind your ear and giving a breathy chuckle.

“Stressing my bunny out more…” He tuts, ringed fingers slightly digging into your hip to pull you into him. “Their balls were all dyed and decorated, right? I wasn’t just fucking seeing things?”

“No, Bambi,” You whisper in reply, turning to press your forehead against his. “We all saw the same gross balls and starfishes.” Eddie’s shoulders shake with light laughter at your face and tone. “You think they’d at least trimmed that down or something while they were all fondling and drawing on each other.” Nancy coughs loudly beside Eddie, trying to cover her laughter.

“Actual eggs are all hidden. And, um, Hopper, Steve, and a few of the volunteer firemen caught all of them I think.” It’s only then that you see what’s in Eddie’s right hand.

“Honey, what’re those?”

“Well bunny, these are some polaroids I was taking of my very sexy girlfriend being in charge,” He leans in like he’s telling you a secret but doesn’t lower his voice. “Hot stuff right here. Then these morons with Easter egg balls ruined my bunny’s unwitting photo shoot.”

“Really, Eddie?” You hear Robin scoff out from behind you, leaning between Eddie and Nancy to see the Polaroids.

“What? I’m gonna give them to Hopper! I don’t want pictures of those pricks.”

"Especially not those pricks pricks," Dustin chortles out, Lucas biting his bottom lip to try to stop the laughter.

“Please tell me you didn’t get their junk in the pictures,” Erica sasses out, face saying exactly what everyone was thinking.

“No, fine Lady Applejack. I was close to my bunny, but not that close. So no fear of willies here.” Lucas and Will chortle as El and Max burst into giggles.

Joyce claps behind you, getting everyone’s attention even as she fights her own wide smiles. “Okay. Okay. What else is left to do?” Your focus goes straight back to the forgotten clipboard in hand.

“Continuious pictures from Jonathan. The actual egg hunt. And clean up. Hopper hid the golden egg, right?” Joyce nods assuringly.

“He did. And Jonathan is taking pictures of the kids with the Easter Bunny for another fifteen minutes, then he’ll come and set up by the basket station until the hunt begins.”

“The mayor will fire the starter pistol from there to begin the hunt. Kids under 6 will be over in Nancy and El’s area. Older kids in the other. Oh! And we all need to remind people as they’re leaving the egg hunt that there are desserts in the new wing of the hospital,” You rattle off before Eddie removes his hand from your hip to snatch the clipboard.

“Babe. Bunny. Sweetheart.” Eddie coos, handing it to Joyce as you watch the exchange with intensity. “Breathe. Enjoy the little kids about to wreck this little area while they scream and fight about eggs.”

“You say the sweetest things, honey, I swear,” You mumble dryly before side-eyeing your boyfriend. Everyone jumps into action, drifting a bit away from the two of you, helping out as Hopper and the hospital director come over.

“Just minutes left until we release all the children. Everything is - uh - presentable? After the - um - incident?”

“Yes. They didn’t touch anything and amazingly didn’t knock anything over in their hasty escape,” You answer the director with your smile set to reassuring, waiting until the older man nods a bit too vigorously before shuffling away towards an approaching Tiffany and your mother.

You slowly push a long breath out, your peripheral catching Eddie’s elbow rising, making you turn to look at him fully. He makes a show of looking at his watch, elbow, and forearm parallel to his chin.

“Just two more hours,” Eddie grins out at you, brown eyes a little lighter than usual in the late morning light. “Then, my beautiful princess, I will make sure you’re fed,” He turns to fully face you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb running soothingly along your jawline. “And then we’re gonna nap.”

“We’re gonna nap?” You repeat incredulously as he chuckles lowly.

“Then, of course, I will fuck you senseless on every damn surface in the apartment,” He pauses, lips twitching. “Couple times,” He adds with a stage-like pensiveness, making you hum as he leans forward. “And I have stocked the fridge, the freezer, and - of course - bought that massage oil you liked of Nancy’s -”

“Really?!” You gasp out excitedly before he shushes you with a quick, soft brush of his lips against yours.

“To help you relax from all of this and from how I’m gonna be contorting your pretty, soft little body.” You slide your arms around his neck as you exchange big smiles.

“Have I told you how much I love you lately, Munson?” His face returns to that thoughtful look, pursing his lips just so.

“It’s been a couple days, sweetheart.”

“You are so full of shit!” You hiss before his mouth is covering yours, you can feel him smiling before his thumb presses against your chin, opening to his eager mouth. Eddie makes it a quick but dirty kiss, knowing that there’ll be kids and parents coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“I’ll be on the back side with Steve and Dustin, making sure everyone stays in the areas, okay? I’ll see you later, bunny. Love ya.”

“Love you, Bambi Munson.” He playfully scoffs at your words before beginning to walk backward away from you, winking a few times as your mother comes up beside you, waiting until he's gone to try to get your attention.

As Eddie finally turns around, nearly tripping several times on the walk over there, Dustin mutters something to Eddie as Steve smiles - all three of them disappearing into the sparse tree line right before the Mayor’s voice comes on loudly over the small speaker setup just yards behind you, announcing it was finally time! Your mother and yourself barely make it to the Easter basket table just as the starter pistol sounds.

It’s gonna be a manic hour or so judging by the stampede of children hurtling toward you in their Easter best.

By 1:26, everything is thankfully, blissfully done.

Feet aching from the hours and hours spent rushing to and fro, forcing yourself to unclench your jaw as you trudge towards Eddie’s van. Wayne complements the event with his slight drawl, smiling at you with a softness usually reserved only for Eddie. You murmur a grateful thank you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into him briefly.

Eddie is trailing just behind you two, several of the spare unclaimed baskets adorning his left arm with brownies, candy, and even a little Tupperware bowl with deviled eggs tucked into its shallow wicker grasp. Half of the kids were trailing along behind Eddie, the other half had gone with Steve who was parked in the back of the main hospital parking lot while Eddie was parked along the road that led to the hospital. You can hear Dustin and Will talking about something in the last campaign before Max tosses Reese’s Pieces at Erica who dodges nimbly, the candy hitting Dustin’s arm. In typical fashion there is yelling and laughing, some light shoving as Eddie attempts to corral the kids into the van before hopping in himself. Wayne drops the kids off at Mike’s house, you half asleep in the passenger seat almost nodding off in the now much quieter cab.

You feel the van come to a halt more than anything else, blinking rapidly as Wayne chuckles.

“Girlie, you get you some sleep.”

“Roger that, Wayne,” Eddie salutes as he hops out of the back and gathers his baskets before sliding the van’s back door and gallantly holding out his hand to help you down from the passenger side as you reassure Wayne you will.

“You look like little red riding hood with that many baskets,” You giggle sleepily as you wave to Wayne as he backs down the short driveway.

“That make you the wolf, bunny?” Eddie leans down and says it closer to your ear before growling playfully, fingers digging into your ass in tandem with his growl.

Once you've gotten inside, kicking your shoes off at the door, stumbling slightly into the living room as you try to flex your feet a bit to relieve the tension. You turn on your heel, grinning at your boyfriend as a lightbulb clicks on - both literally above you and in your head.

“Wolf,” You tilt your head to one side as Eddie yanks at his second shoe’s laces, brown eyes looking up at you with mirth. “Bunny.” You shift your head slightly to the other side. “Jockey,” Shrugging you grin down at him as his mouth drops open a tad.

“A jockey?” He questions with a chuckle as he straightens.

“Mmmhmm. Ride you like Seabiscuit.”

“Can I be an Easter unicorn?” The laughter that spills out of you is infectious it seems as the hand reaching out to steady yourself on his chest feels his shudder as his laughter joins yours.

“Anything you want.” Eddie kisses you, ready to deepen it when you pull away. “After my nap.”

“You don’t want any food first?” You unintentionally yawn at Eddie’s question. “Okay. Nap first, light meal after.” And he kisses your forehead gently, in sharp contrast to what you know he’ll be doing to you in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter. Because it’s been a weird as hell day, but watching Eddie carefully help little kids with finding eggs and then watching him schmooze a few of the nurses for leftover goodies has been a highlight in the quest to discover every facet of who this man is. You love him more than you ever imagined you could love someone - and that is both frightening and somehow, so contradictorily, it feels more normal than anything else either.

“I adore you, Eddie.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it that gets his gaze to turn a bit more serious. Maybe he just knows. As if he doesn’t already know nearly every piece of you, your tones of voice, and your actions. The way his forehead comes to meet with yours, thick lashes brushing against his pale skin as he blinks a few times as you continue to stare at him like he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever beheld.

“And I adore you. I love you with every measly little piece of me. Forever and ever - until we’re stardust again.”

“Happy Easter, my tatted, metal bunny.” Eddie snorts before brushing his lips gently over yours. Once. Twice.

“So, we still waiting til after your nap?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you chuckle and pull away. You head towards the couch, leaning over the arm, legs spread wide behind you as you settle your middle and forearms against the old dark green material.

The little rumble of a groan from his chest as he is suddenly plastered to your back, pushing the sundress up over your ass as the softer material of his nice brown dress slacks brushes against the back of your thighs. “Fuck. Me,” Eddie breathes out as he braces his left hand on the arm, teeth skimming over the delicate skin of your neck as you stare down at his rings.

“I’m trying to,” You reply with a soft chuckle as his right-hand pushes down your underwear, the soft clink of his belt as his pants hit the floor just after.

“Such a perfect lil Easter bunny for me,” Eddie presses a few nipping kisses down the revealing skin on your back below your neck as his nimble fingers drag the zipper halfway down your spine, both hands coming up to your chest to tug the top loose to free your breasts as he groans loudly against your shoulder blade. “No bra? What a good little fuck bunny. Did you think of your promise today, hum? Think of my cock buried deep in your tight little cunt?” You manage to pant out a yes, already so fucking needy. “And so fucking wet so quick, just from me rubbing against your ass and squeezing your tits? Jesus, you know how you rile me up with how fucking responsive you are, baby.”

“Fuck me, Eddie,” You grunt out as you press your ass back against him, feeling the short, rough hairs on his thighs brush against your ass and thighs and the heavy weight of him so close to where you want him. “Please, honey. Please.” Eddie’s teeth sink into your throat before his lips suck and lick at the skin to soothe it. Eddie loves it when you beg and you are too happy to oblige most of the time. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m go – oooh!” The air is knocked out of you as he enters in one sharp stroke, both of you exhaling loudly at the feeling.

“What were you saying?” Eddie purrs out as he grinds slowly against you, his fingers kneading at your breast while you adjust.

“Was gonna shove you onto the carpet -”

“And have your way with me, bunny? While I’m in my Sunday best?” He withdraws just a little before snapping forward to fill you again.

“Yes… Ssshit. Yes. More. Please.” Eddie withdraws nearly completely before thrusting in harder, setting a quick pace.

“I’m - jesus h christ - I'm not gonna last if you keep gripping me like that, princess.”

“Good,” You manage to whine as you press a hand into the couch cushion under you to help push back to meet more of Eddie’s thrusts. Your fingers slide under your dress edge, swirling around your nub in quick circles, trying to get over that cliff with Eddie. “Eddie!”

“You close? Fuck yeah baby, rub your clit for me. Wanna feel you milk me. Come on, I know you can.”

“Wanna…” You cry out as he pauses, kicking your legs closer together and pressing your shoulders down more before thrusting into your slick heat once more.

“Feels better now, princess, huh? I know I’m hitting that spot,” He chuckles darkly as his hair brushes all over your bare shoulders, sucking another mark on your throat, this time closer to your ear, his fingers knocking yours away to swipe over and around your clit, eager to throw you over the edge before he gets there himself. “From all these fucking beautiful noises you’re making for me. Come for me, baby. Please. Fuck. God. I just need you to come. Now. Please. Now.”

Just a few more brushes of his fingers and one well-placed thrust and you’re screams of his name seem louder in the silent apartment, Eddie’s pleas and grunts murmured against your skin as the wet slap slap slap continues before Eddie’s rhythm falters for a beat as he chases his high.

“Come on pretty boy,” You pant out, body still shaking a bit as you push back against him. “Don’t you wanna come? Fill me up? Fuck.” You can feel his lips in an up-and-down motion as he nods eagerly, too focused on his own orgasm to answer. “Come Eddie. Come. Be a good boy for me and come.” You feel him come, groaning your name against your shoulder as he grinds and rolls himself closer as he pulses.

“I love you,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your throat until you turn your head for a kiss.

“I love you.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“Thank you,” You whisper, letting your body slump forward more onto the couch cushion under you as you catch your breath. “I’ll let you wake me up however you want.”

“Yet another reason to love you, bunny. Just another reason.”

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x plus size reader #authoressskr writes

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