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greenishghostey · 2 years ago

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The Gang's All Here

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends had told you on several occasions that still having stuffed animals on your bed at twenty years old would be a boner killer for your boyfriend. Luckily, your boyfriend made up elves and orcs on the regular. Some stuffed animals weren't gonna scare him off so easily.

Word Count: 4,979 (2,200 of this is the smut, im sorry)

Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, graphic smut, p in v, protected sex, face sitting/riding, enthusiastic pussy eating, fluffy smut, sort of sub!Eddie, extensive dirty talk, this guy cannot shut up ever, established relationship, enthusiastic consent (everyone's having a grand ol' time), a lot of affection, the stuffed animals don't watch, I think that's all please let me know if I missed anything!

Author's Note: Hi everyone, I wrote fluffy filthy again! This came from me seeing one of those Eddie + text post pictures saying, "she let me hit because I was polite to her squishmallows". That is why this exists. Please enjoy because this was so much fun to write! Also, I know that this definitely isn't an original idea, I think I've read fics similar to this but can't think of the exact ones right now. But, I know they're out there. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

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Being 20 years old and still living with your parents in the sleepy town of Hawkins wasn’t anything to sniff at. Some people have to work a little after high school before packing up and moving anywhere else. It also helped that you had a boyfriend who was on his third try at senior year. He was a pretty cool reason to stick around your dull hometown. Eddie made it all a bit more colourful.

You and Eddie had been dating for a few months. You had been friendly in high school, but then he started flirting with you when he came into the grocery store. Eddie was a smooth talker when he wanted to be, and it had worked on you. He had knocked over a candy bar rack at your register but also had cleaned it all up. The sweetheart that he was.

Your relationship was great. It was adorable. It was intimate. It was healthy. You guys were best friends and told each other every little thing, regardless of how insignificant it may seem. Eddie told you about his passion for writing and about his family. You told him about your future plans beyond Hawkins - him hopefully being included - and your past and present knitting projects. He wanted a burgundy hat and scarf set for his birthday. A bobble hat was preferred - he wasn’t sure if those were hard to make, so he wasn’t too picky.

However, there was one thing that you had kept from Eddie. You had worked pretty hard to hide away this tiny part of yourself whenever he came to your house. Shoving the incriminating objects into a box at the back of your closet, even though it pained you to do so.

It was embarrassing to be 20 years old and still have a beloved little group of stuffed animals perched on your bed. Well, that’s what your friends had told you anyway. No guy would want to fuck a girl while a fluffy lizard, Reggie, from the Indianapolis zoo, is staring at him.

In addition to little Reg, there were three others. Woolia, a fleecy sheep that you got on your third birthday. Jules, a light blue dolphin with big shiny eyes. Finally, there was Mimi, a fluffy white unicorn that had been with you since birth.

The soft animals had been with you through thick and thin for the majority of your life. First days of school, homework meltdowns, the day you figured out what boys were. All of the essential milestones had been witnessed by their little plastic eyes. They were as much your family as your parents were.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let Eddie know about them in any capacity. Hiding them away was a tedious task. If Eddie said he would pick you up from work, you’d shove them in the box before you left for your shift. If Eddie stopped by, you’d tell him you had to tidy your room before he could come in. He always laughed and insisted that he would be fine if your room were like a bomb site. He was too modest for his own good, but he still wasn’t seeing your fluffy little secrets.

You had just dragged yourself home from a, quite frankly, hellish evening shift. Your shift was supposed to finish at 9, but your manager had bitched at you enough to make you stay for an extra hour. Fridays from 5-8 were discount hours and the time frame when everyone came to buy their weekend booze. Older people were horrendous when their favourite beer brand was out of stock - like you had personally gone to the trouble of buying every pallet of the dishwater piss just to be annoying.

There was some Chinese takeout in the microwave for you since your parents had headed off to their respective night shifts at the hospital. You balanced two boxes - sesame chicken and chow mein - with a can of Pepsi in your arms as you dashed up the stairs to your bedroom. Fresh pyjamas were waiting for you, Eddie had lent you his copy of Fellowship of The Ring, and you were so ready to turn your brain off and-

“Honey, you’re home!” The chipper voice almost made you drop everything. A chill ran down your spine, and, honestly, you felt like you were going to start eroding away into the atmosphere from humiliation. Eddie was lounging on your bed, his waves splayed over your pillows, and soft animals moved carefully to be at his sides - two on each side, making sure no one felt left out. “What you got in the boxes? And can we share?”

You stood at the foot of your bed, taking in the weirdly domestic image in front of you, “why are you here?” you asked, voice sounding distant.

Eddie’s brows furrowed, and he began to sit up, “Should’ve asked first, knew I should’ve. Sorry, just thought it would be all romantic and shit, ya know.” He mumbled. Eddie looked very dejected. Had he overstepped a boundary? Did you want your alone time? God, he could be so dumb sometimes when it came to you.

Shaking your head, you moved to put down the takeout boxes and your bag, “No, no. Don’t worry,” you smiled, patting his thigh as you passed him, “just wasn’t expecting to see you all comfortable and cosy there with - with all that.”

“I am pretty comfy. These lil guys kept me company until you got back.” Eddie beamed, practically melting into your sheets and gesturing to your stuffed animals. Did he like them? He didn’t think it was weird that you still had them. Your expression showed that your mind was running a mile a minute when you really should be starting to relax. He knew that evening shifts were the pits for you. “How come I’ve never met the gang before?”

“The gang?” You snorted, pulling off your sports jacket and throwing it on your clothes chair, “I just thought it was a little kiddy to still have stuffed animals on my bed. Was worried you’d - I dunno.”

“Worried I’d what? You know who you’re talking to?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, fixing you with a look that made you squirm, “some fluffy little secrets aren’t gonna scare me off, promise.”

“You sure you don’t think they’re weird?” Your voice wasn’t more than a mumble as you sat down beside him on the bed, “the girls said they’re kind of a boner killer.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, and he started to wriggle his way over to you to lay his head in your lap. When he was in this type of mood - a big softie mood - you had to wonder why you thought he’d care about some stuffed toys. Those thoughts didn’t soothe your anxiety entirely, though; you would need to hear the confirmation from him - potentially in writing, for your own sanity. His big, molasses eyes stared up at you with a determined look. God, he was going to monologue in a minute, and it was going to be correct, and you would feel all mushy.

“I want names, place of origin, and lore if you got any,” Eddie stated, counting on each of his fingers to really hammer in his point and make it clear that he was interested. It warmed your heart in a way you hadn’t felt since your first date with him. Of course, the guy warmed your very soul on a near-daily basis. But when he showed just how much he cared, it made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire. “We’re starting with the sheep. Obviously. Give me the deets.” He picked up Woolia and placed her on his chest, arranging her hooves properly.

You couldn’t fight back the grin that spread from ear to ear. Your fingers gently carded through Eddie’s hair as you introduced him to the ‘gang’ “This is Woolia.”

Eddie barked out a laugh at the name, not in malice but in a combination of pride and pleasant surprise, “I never knew you were so creative, babe.”

“Shut up. Do you want the full run down or not?” You teased, flickering his forehead lightly until he stopped laughing. “As I was saying, I’ve had Woolia since I was 3. My grandma got her for me when she went to Wyoming.”

“A Wyomingite? Christ, it’s a good thing she’s cute.” Eddie grimaced, moving the small sheep from his chest and putting her back in her original place. He was so careful with her - you usually squished her in your sleep and woke up with her under your tailbone. “Green gecko dude next.”

Reggie was whisked from his spot and placed onto Eddie’s chest, now the introduction stage for your stuffed animals. You had been so concerned about being embarrassed if Eddie ever caught wind of them. Yet here he was, demanding all information on each of them individually.

“This is Reggie, short for Reginald Von Scales II,” you were interrupted by yet another loud chuckle from Eddie. He was having the time of his life - he might have to start asking you to help with character names for this campaign. “Yeah, I’m hilarious, I know. Anyway, I got Reggie when I was eight and went to the big zoo in Indianapolis with my parents. All the stuffed animals in the gift shop were begging to be taken home. My dad said since I was good, I could get anyone I wanted. Reggie was hidden at the back of a shelf, and I knew I had to get him when I saw him.”

Talking about the origins of these soft creatures was nostalgic and brought a warmness to your body that was relaxing. So many great memories were linked to the toys, and now you’d have a new one with Eddie there.

“Hey, he’s kinda like me! You could’ve had your pick of guys around here, but you chose little ol’ me.” Eddie enthused. He blinked his eyelashes up at you and wiggled his eyebrows - screw Woolia; it was a good thing he was cute. “You got me from the very, very back of the man shelf. Like, you must have been digging for some weird shit to get - well, this.” He gestured to himself.

Your gaze softened. He wasn’t “weird shit”. He wasn’t just any guy. Sure, he was pushed to the back of the line when it came to discussing eligible bachelors around Hawkins, but he was all yours now. That’s all that mattered. “I’ve got specific, immaculate taste, and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t being met.” You stated matter of factly.

“Aw, you always know how to make a dude swoon.” Eddie sighed dreamily. Christ, he was a mushy idiot. If anyone saw him like this, his reputation would be in the toilet. “Reggie is the running for the favourite. Let’s see what blue boy here can bring to the table.” Eddie made the switch between Reggie and Jules, the extra soft dolphin.

“Jules is just… Jules. Got both boy and girl vibes, if I’m honest.” You explained, shrugging at Eddie, who nodded in understanding, “Got them in a thrift store with my mom when I was five, I think? Another case of a toy sitting on a shelf and me deciding to call forever dibs.”

A giddy smirk appeared on Eddie’s face, “you’ve got a thing for picking up strays, huh?” He was wiggling his eyebrows again, so you flicked his forehead again.

“Stop acting like you’re some flea-infested cat. I’ll get mad.” You huffed, trying your best to sound genuinely stern with him, but it definitely didn’t work. You ran your thumb across his knuckles as he started poking Jules’ squishy head.

Eddie took hold of your offered hand and kissed the back of it, “fine, I’ll quit bad-mouthing your man.”

“Thank you very much. Now, onto Mimi.”

“I did save the unicorn for last,” You knew that. If there was anything to do with the high fantasy genre, Eddie would be all over it. Even the pretty magic horses.

“She is the oldest of the bunch. Been perched by those pillows since before I can remember.” You informed, fixing a stray tuft of hair on her bright mane. “My mom has a ton of photos of me carrying her around everywhere.”

Eddie looked at the unicorn toy with a distinct fondness, a soft smile and an even softer gaze.

“What’s got you all smiley?”

“Nothin’, that’s just really sweet, is all. Mimi’s had your back forever.” You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss or smother him with a pillow. He was too fucking adorable when he was like this.

“I guess she has, yeah.” You breathed, running your fingers through Eddie’s hair again, “What do you think of the gang then?”

“Big, big fan. I think Reg is my favourite. He’s got that underdog vibe going on, which I respect.” Eddie leaned over and tried to give the gecko plush a fist bump with his finger.

You weren’t sure what came over you. A warmth had been stirring inside you since Eddie put his head on your lap and was polite to your stuffed animals. He listened closely and handled them like they were valuable to him too. The intimacy of this whole situation was not lost on you. If anything, you were far too aware of it. Eddie loved you and your quirks the same way you loved him and his.

You bit your bottom lip slightly and turned to glance down at the blissful man in your lap.

“C’mere a sec,” Eddie said, leaning up on his elbows. You knew what “c’mere” meant, so you let Eddie place one of his hands on the back of your head, bringing your lips together. The kiss was so sweet. The usual saccharine kisses that the town’s resident satan worshipper was a big fan of laying on you at any opportunity. Eddie’s lips were always soft as his kiss became firmer.

He pulled away by a hair to sit back against your pillows and guided you to straddle his thighs before diving back into your waiting, wanting mouth. You were hungrier for him now. The warmth in your stomach was being fueled as Eddie ran his hands up your thighs to rest of your ass. Feeling the fat and groaning when you shifted your hips - your ass and thighs drove the poor guy mad, and you loved it.

Your eyes opened slightly to make sure you closed your bedroom door but made contact with Mimi's big, black plastic eyes. Quickly, you pulled away from Eddie with heaving pants. It felt like torture to let him go at that moment. The stiff bulge of his cock pressing into your clothed cunt. Yeah, the gang was going to have to move - and move quickly.

“Wait, wait, Eddie,” You panted, clambering off his lap.

“What? You good? Did I get the wrong hole?” Eddie rambled, sitting up abruptly and looking more than a little frazzled. He was all rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, and he had to ruin it by thinking it’d simulated anal. So charming.

“No, you’d know if you’d done that, trust me,” You said as you gently placed your plush friends on the carpet, far away from your bed and facing the wall. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but they would have to deal with it while you rode your boyfriend until he screamed.

“Ah. You don’t want an audience, I gotcha,” Eddie nodded, winking at you from his spot on your bed. Satisfied with the gang’s relocation, you turned back to Eddie, pulling off your work shirt and getting to work on your jeans.

Eddie quickly got the hint and nearly ripped his baseball tee while trying to get it over his head fast enough. His belt was launched somewhere in your room as he opened his arms to welcome you back onto his lap. Your hungry mouth again devoured his in a wet kiss, full of groans and rapid breaths. Eddie made quick work on your bra, having become intimately acquainted with this particular nude one. It was an old faithful that you didn’t want him to see as much as he did, but that’s just how getting naked seemed to go for you both.

You threw yourself onto the mattress beside Eddie and started to claw at your jeans to get them off. Eddie followed suit as you were both in a tangle of legs and denim, fidgeting desperately to get that glorious skin-to-skin contact.

Once down to your underwear, you grabbed Eddie’s head and pulled him in so you could lick, kiss and nibble at his pulse point. He really loved it when you got grabby and roughed him up a little. The lack of control over your own strength had his cock twitching in his boxers.

“Can we do that thing, please?” You sighed, running your fingers up and down Eddie’s chest. Fuck, you were sweating and close to humping your cunt into Eddie’s erection - chasing friction that only he could give you.

Eddie moaned when your fingertips grazed his nipples, his darkened eyes struggling to say open, “Which one? There’s a couple. We can do anything you want, babe.” You could punch him, kick him or rip his hair out right now and he’d be so cool with it.

Eddie was finally getting to experience heaven. The god squad of Hawkins would be so jealous of him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled him onto his back with a bounce, pinning him and shooting him a toothy grin.

“Me riding you. Everywhere. Face, cock. Sound like a plan?” You chirped, wiggling your hips how he liked it. Faking some innocence in the moment was too fun to pass up. Plus, riling Eddie up was a surefire way to make him lose his mind in the best ways.

Eddie nodded so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, “Amazing idea. God, my lady’s so smart.” He grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you towards his head while he shifted his body down the bed. Eating your cunt was one of Eddie’s favourite pastimes, but it was so much better when you rode his face and used him to get yourself off.

You had forgotten to pull your panties off before straddling your boyfriend’s head. Usually, this would have led to you fiddling and contorting yourself to get them off.

Not today, though. Eddie just grabbed the lace trim, yanked them to the side, so they bit into your ass cheek and shoved his face into your dripping cunt.

“Fuck yes, thank you,” Eddie groaned before licking and sucking your clit. He was like a man starved as he groped and massaged your ass, making sure you wouldn’t hold back on him.

You let your head lull back as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips beginning to grind and ride his full lips and hot tongue. The wet, sloppy sounds of Eddie, essentially making out with your hole and clit brought a feral smile to your face. God, he always made you smile so big that your face hurt in the best way.

Eddie started shaking his head between your legs, his tongue circling your hole before returning to flicking your puffy, needy clit.

“Still can’t believe you let me do this,” Eddie sighed, saliva and your wet covering his flushed lips, “‘m I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

Your moans were getting louder and more hoarse as Eddie started to move your hips himself, urging you to use him. You loved when he talked like that - his tongue, his lips, his voice. His mouth was everything.

“Y-Yes, yes. You really want me to drench your pretty face, huh?” You giggled, sweet sighs of ecstasy huffing from your throat. Eddie whined while his tongue fucked you. “Pretty, pretty boy - fuck, please.”

“Shit - yeah, you taste fucking incredible. Gimme it all, babe, ah fuck.”

Eddie doubled down his efforts. Straining his neck a little to fuck up into you with more force and precision. You were leaking down his chin and making yourself all sticky. A blissful state, full of love and affection. Eddie huffed a laugh on your cunt as he saw the dreamy smirk on your lips.

Groaning, whining, cursing. You two must have sounded like animals in heat as the springs in your mattress started to bounce and squeak. The room was that familiar warm - cosy, somewhat comfortable sweat and the smell of sex.

Eddie forced your cunt down more onto his face. He would gladly suffocate right then and there. He needed your cum before you rode him because he knew he wouldn’t last long. Eddie liked the mess; it was filthy and made him feel so alive. But the lady has to finish first, and then you keep going until she nearly rips your damn head off. Eddie got that tip from a magazine one time.

“Christ, you’re so so good - fuck, Eddie, your mouth!” You growled. You tended to make much deeper sounds when you were close. Eddie felt like he was going to blow his load in his boxers. “Just a little m-more.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Eddie chanted wetly, “Please - soak my pretty face.”

That did it.

Your hands knotted further into Eddie’s sweaty hair and gripped it like a lifeline as you wailed your release. He always liked when you pulled his hair. It made his eyes roll back in such a beautiful way. That was no different now. Big brown eyes were glazed over as they rolled into Eddie’s skull; you could feel a smug smile on his face. You gave him all of you, just like he wanted. You were the fucking best.

You moved down Eddie’s torso in panting silence to straddle him again. You couldn’t wait for him to get his boxers off entirely, so you pulled them down enough for his swollen cock to slap against his stomach. It had become a talent of yours to make quick yet effective work of getting a condom on. Eddie fucking you raw was going to be on the table at some point, just not tonight. Too risky.

Fuck, he felt like he was going to scream or melt or just-

There was a distinct, sloppy slap. Followed by two even louder cries of pleasure. You knew that Eddie would slip inside you without any resistance. You needed him too much.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re spoiling me today.” Eddie giggled, staring up at you through heavy lids. “Do I get all this because I was friendly with the gang?” He settled back into your pillows and basked in the warm embrace of your cunt.

You mewled at the feeling of being so full - it may have sounded shallow, but you loved his cock so goddamn much. “You were just so damn polite to ‘em. It’s hot seeing you be all sweet and caring.”

“They’re important to you, ‘course I’m gonna be polite.” Eddie laughed. “They’ve taken care of you for ages, and now it’s my job to help out, right?” He smoothed his thumbs across your hips.

“Eddie…” you sighed, caressing his face. His dreamy, beautiful, smug face. He was just so good to you and to the world. It always hurt that you were one of the few who truly understood that he had a heart of gold, in addition to being a weirdo. But he was your weirdo. “Love ya, Munson.”

After your tooth-rotting words reached his ears, you started to grind down onto his stiff length. Eddie couldn’t do much, but he groaned in agreement with you. He never knew how good being ridden could feel without any bouncing. Sure, he adored when you bounced on his cock, chasing your high and fueling his, but there was a sensuality to the circle of your hips. The sight of you making his cock massage your g-spot was one he wanted to be tattooed behind his eyelids.

“How you doing down there, sweetheart?” You smiled, alternating between bouncing and swivelling. He had to give him some form of reward, “please soak my face,” that was such a good line. Damn, he was good.

Eddie let out a shaky groan and stared at where his cock disappeared into your cunt. When you called him sweetheart, he didn’t know what to do with himself. The flush that covered his upper body was rosy and fiery. “Fabulous as always.” He chuckled and shot you a bright grin. “I really don’t tell you enough how much I love your pussy. And she loves me.”

“You’re so weird,” You snorted, running your hands through the sparse hair on his chest. “She’s gonna care really good care you.”

Eddie started to wonder if god finally decided to smile down on him as you started to ride him properly. The wet squelch of fucking filled his ears alongside your beautiful laughs and moans. He could see the slick from your cunt on his throbbing cock as you moved. Watching you in your element, so happy, on top of him, was hypnotic. Eddie would never cease to be mesmerised by you and your body. He began to thrust his hips up to meet your carefully curated rhythm.

Your head fell back, and your jaw swung open when you met at the perfect angle, at the perfect time. “Oh. My god - yeah, yes, Ed-” you called out. You were so happy that both of your parents had taken night shifts.

Eddie’s thrust began more forceful, faster, as he moved to push his feet into your mattress for leverage. He was a sweaty, whining mess under you, but he was still going to try and do a little bit of the work. “Uh huh, use me. Fuck, fucking shit - cum on me again.” He was rambling like a horny maniac, smiling like one too. He was having the time of his life. A pretty lady who loved him and had cute stuffed animals was riding him until he wanted to scream. What more could a dude ask for?

“Don’t stop - don’t stop talking. Fuck.” Yeah, you were losing your mind. Sex with Eddie always came with a satisfaction guarantee, but it was his dirty mouth that sealed the deal for you most of the time. “Does my pussy feel good?”

The harsh slapping of his balls hitting your ass richoted off the walls. Eddie wasn’t going to be lasting much longer by any means. “So - so good. She’s leaking all over me, such a good girl.”

Now he was just trying to be annoying. It was working very well.

“Am I a good girl too?” You groaned, lightly gripping Eddie’s jaw so he could look you in the eye. The pace of your fucking had reached its peak. How you were still speaking in sentences was a mystery. Eddie was hitting your g-spot at the best angle and slipping deeper inside you every time you slammed your hips down.

“Yeah, f-fuck. But, you’re a woman too.” Eddie slurred, loving the feeling of you keeping his eyes fixed on you. His left hand moved between you to rub your swollen clit in fast circles. Again, sensuality is what really did it for him. He would call you a good girl until he was blue in the face. But it was the fact that you were a full woman that warmed his blood - and his heart. All soft body, whispy hair everywhere, and markings on your skin showing how you’d grown into the person he got to love. “Mine,” he whined the word like prayer.

“‘M your woman, huh?” This was going to be over soon, but you needed a few more words out of him. “Then you’re my man, all mine.” You leaned down to whisper straight into his ear, followed by a long lick up the column of his throat - tasting the salty sweat dripping off of him.

“Oh, oh god - yeah, ‘m yours, baby.” Eddie grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a scolding kiss. All tongue and saliva, but neither of you cared. This is always how it went. Right when you were both on the precipice of orgasm, start making out furiously. His cock was pounding into you, trying to mould your puffy walls to the shape of him. Eddie could feel his heart hammering and his eyes rolling back - he was almost there and so were you.

“All. Yours.” Eddie punctuated each word with a hard, impossibly deep thrust. Then he was a goner. Shooting ropes of cum into the condom and moaned like a girl in the porn he watched sometimes.

You could feel the pulsing heat of him in your stomach. His nimble fingers were still focused on your clit. He always knew how to make you melt. So, melt you did. The world exploded into white, and you screamed into Eddie’s neck as your orgasm shook your body.

The aftershocks of bliss left you both shaky and panting like you had run a marathon. You had already collapsed on Eddie’s chest as he started rubbing your scalp with his calloused fingers - the added roughness provided a good scratch. Your heart was hammering like his, each keeping pace with the other in the afterglow of that near-religious experience. You snuggled into his touch and trailed your fingers down the bridge of his nose, feeling his beauty and memorising the dips and peaks of his face - for what may have been the hundredth time.

Eddie shifted to catch your wandering hand and covered it in small pecks up to your wrist. “So, you got any more members of the gang to introduce? I’d love an audience with a penguin if I’m being honest.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #fic #smut #fluff #my writing #yeah this is actual filthy #or at least the best im capable of at the moment #enjoy!!!

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everyday-is-brighter-with-you · 4 years ago

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CRYING IN THE (WINTER)CLUB

Before starting the ID I want to say there are some OC characters in this, and I’ve described their general appearance in this google doc for ref!

[ ID: Wide front view colored art drawn traditionally and colored digitally. Every character is in fullbody except Dr Habit whos drawn till above legs. In the scene many people are gathered out in the winter snow at a backyard. Snow falls everywhere. Overall pic is light blue toned. There is slight pale vignette around it.

Dr.Habit is looking away and wiping a tear, smiling. In the artists interpretation he has yellow fur, pink hair, stitches on hands, deep red nails.He wears long brown fur coat, big white knitted scarf, black fingerless gloves, black fur ushanka with orange fruits and green leaves design. Wears hair in a long plait. A dark grey maine coon leans into him.

Putunia is laying down, hands on cheeks making a ''ooo'' face in anticipation and glee. In the artists interpretation she has long dark brown curly hair. She wears a purple petunia shaped dress, blue pants, short brim straw hat with fake purple flowers, thick yellow socks. Wears hair in big pigtails tied with pink bobble ties. She is looking at Lil Habby( the puppet) holding a fire gun to a melting chocolate bar, melting into a cup for making a drink. He wears the usual with a pink flower in hair. He has long thin simple shadow arms and legs here.

Marigold is sitting idle on the grass, looks curiously at snow on his petal hair, maybe even irritated. Near him on a pink cushy sofa with green highlights and little yellow flower designs sits Rose playing his flute eyes closed and legs kicking casually. In this picture his hair is longer. His hair tie rests on a sofa arm.

Behind him the Carlas are making a Snow Carla. Fortune Teller Carla is smiling and keeping a camellia on the snow figure. A red sleeveless dress and red gloves are drawn on her, wears hair in double buns with sparkling grey flower bands encircling buns, green eyeshadow. Another Carla laughs heartily, adding more snow. A green buttoned dress with yellow ''fluff'' and striped brown cap with same fluff is drawn on her. The third Carla's face is away from viewer, she too is adding snow. A blue dress like Elsa's icy dress and a purple flower crown is drawn on her, though the cape is actually worn. The Snow Carla has one swirly eye dug in, a button eye with leaf lashes and branch eyebrow, carrot nose, red wax lips stuck on. From the camellia tree behind the red-clothed one, a pair of green cat eyes with thick brown brows stare.

Farther away on the other side Kamal is walking in, holding a half eaten pitha in hand while approaching. He holds a bag with a box saying ''To Kamal, with love''. In the artists interpretation his face is acne scarred. He wears a blue-black sweater, purple scarf, blue pants, brown winter shoes with white fluff at the top, one gold earring, frog shape chew necklace, hair is in a bun.

At the center Trevor is reaching up with a stool and fiddling with a giant vibrating hot chocolate machine. He wears his usual coat with added blue jeans, red scarf with yellow and black stripes, leopard print heels, green goggles, mask for mouth, silver ear piercings. Hair is in a mullet and nails are sharp and black. The machine has a funnel streaming black smoke, and many bright devices on it. In the center of it is a radioactive symbol. On one side to its bottom is a part reading ''DEVIL MODE'' in allcaps with fire graphics, a big red button in a glass case is above it with a note that reads ''Never(underlined) touch'', stuck with a smiley face pin. There is a mounted fish figurine on one handle. The hot chocolate is fizzling over the brim.

Behind him a long table laiden with food is seen. There are swirl designs on the wood's sides. There are red and green apples, borscht, three colored drinks, yorsh, glintvein , 3 tier chocolate cake, shchi, cut open peaches, cut round bread, bowl with sweet bread cakes, three small buns, full breasted chicken in aluminium foil. Lily is looking over the table edge, grinning with the aim of stealing the cake.

There are plants around, a winter garden. In some places a green color overtakes the snow with grass growing. All over the yellow fence, to the left side, are huge clumps of winter jasmine.

To the horizon trees in blue-green shades with snow coverings are seen, closer and then farther and farther away. In that distance the silhouettes of Jimothan smiling and waving to Trencil, while dragging Parsley through the snow behind him are seen. Trencil stands and smiles, a little of his towering purple castle with red highlights, many turrets, visible.

end ID]

DESC UNDER CUT

yisssss MFERS I made a winter piece before winter was FUCKING OVER sobsob

heres my yearly tribute to the season of nosebleeds cracked lips and flies aND SNOW!!!!!!!!(NOT WHERE I LIVE ;W;)

Also my birthdays really soon. Like next week soon

Ermmm ahffjd to talk a little about what I drew...hmmhfhg...well idk if the perspective( god i tried) makes this look different so ill just throw it out there thats Habits not looking at my sonaJDJVNJ hes looking away and crying due to found family feelings. Carlas doing some gay shit. Pabit+Putunia about to start a small localized natural disaster. I mean how else do u make hot choco without setting chocolate on fire tbh. Hotted chocolate. aNd YeS mY fAmIlY SeLf iNsErTs ArE ThErE tOo >:3. The machine will explode tommorow but its OK. They can make bath bombs from the carnage. Hrhggh I had a different idea but then my sis changed my HC so Im just gonna say Habit built it but with Trevors help hence the flashiness nd DEVIL MODE. Now that ive watched hlvrai i cant stop dropping references this series is so quotable . Sawww those guys in the back? Honestly Trencils probably a winter person with the low light, fog and blocked sun.

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EDIT: WELL MY BIRTHDAY GOT OVER AND JANUARY ALMOST TOO DAMN..GETTING OVER MY HEAPING ANXIETY AND POSTING

I dont Expect a lot of notes or anything but I suppose its alright, one of the important things to me is just archiving my art somewhere.

I know the IDs long but I’d recommend reading through if u also wanna like know the specifics of what I drew, OVER 15 PLANTS I THINK I’d be flattered,

If you reblog with tags i’ll be happy though!!

[ID: The same drawing but with no editing- no vignette, snow overlay, blue overtone or color correction. end ID]

EDIT: Shortened the rlly long ID, but if someone wants to know the plants i drew under ‘winter garden’; The flowers and plants visible at front are virginia rose, red chokeberry, snowdrops, a single frost covered rose, piers japonica in pots. To the middle inkberry, more snowdrops, colored hellebores patch, glory of snow, black hellebores patch, pansies, cyclamens, yellow aconite, some more snowdrops. A little farther are two winterberry plants, a camellia tree, witch hazel, english primroses, staghorn sumac.

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ofmagicallonging · 3 years ago

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" hey, don't give me that look. nobody's gonna think of looking for us in a wedding suite, alright? " - from Eddie/Venom to Robin!

@therefxreweare

Robin wasn't suprised that his life was in danger. He wasn't suprised that he now had a bodyguard whose job was to keep him alive. And he definitely wasn't suprised that he now was having to go into hiding. It was all expected, after all his family were one of the most notorious crime families around. Robin knew sone things about it all, he did the odd job as well, often gathering intelligence or being a cute little perk for deals. He didnt mind. It was always something he'd grown up with. To him it was practically normal. But Eddie's ides of going to a wedding suite didn't seem right and Robin was more than happy to voice. His arms were crossed his chest as he stepped into the room. Sure he didn't look intimidating in dungarees and a knitted bobble hat. The cat shaped bag didn't help either. In fact just looking at Robin and you wouldn't think that he was the son of a crime family. "If my brother was ever looking for two people, he'd check every part of a hotel that he has been given a hint that the target could be at. He would even check the wedding suite just in case because if you really are looking for someone you not going to not check somewhere just because it's a wedding suite." Robin said softly. He didn't have high hopes for this place. They'd be found sooner or later. However he couldn't help but laugh as he saw the rose petals covering the bed in a heart shape. To top it all off a bottle of champagne was on ice on the table beside the bed. He walked over to the petals, gently picking them up and rubbing them between his fingers. "Was this to sell the idea we're on our honeymoon to the staff or did they just do it because it's the you know." He asked, wide eyes looking up at Eddie. "Because you haven't even taken me on a date yet if that's what your think? At least buy a guy dinner."

#just because robin in a mafia au would be brilliant #i can change it if you dont think itd work

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thecitylightshow · 7 years ago

Text

The Avengers Book Club (As Founded by Bruce and Natasha)

An ace!Bruce, ace!Nat, Avengers Family, BruceNat fluff fest. There is book reading, tea drinking, and Steve and Tony play a lot of chess. There will be more of this. This is for the lovely @ishipallthings who reminded me how much I love BruceNat, and I’m also gonna tag @xtaticpearl because you’ve been on fire with prompts lately and deserve a mention an a little something in return.

This is also on Ao3, here.

The first time it happens, it’s raining.

Bruce can’t hear it inside the tower, but he can see it through the windows at the end of the long room Tony transformed into a library. Tony thinks Bruce doesn’t know no such room existed before both Bruce and Steve expressed a love of reading, and Natasha had had that glint in her eye, but he knows. Pepper told him. It’s full of shelves of books Bruce strongly suspects all belonged to Tony’s parents – not in the least because a couple of the textbooks are scrawled all over, and more of the cookbooks and the more coding based maths books have Italian corrections added to them. Tony’s filled it with comfortable armchairs and throws and cushions. The fire is fake, but the room is always warm and glowing. It’s Bruce’s solace in a tower full of activity and life, and sometimes…

Right on cue, the door slides open with an almost silent whoosh of air, and feet pad in. The noise is intentional – socked feet on wooden floor, belonging to an assassin who could’ve charged at him with boots on and not made a noise. Natasha’s in a long grey hoody – she stole it from Tony – and purple sleep pants that Bruce recognises as his own. The socks, large fluffy and pale blue, knobbly as hell, are her own (Thor knitted them for her, under Clint’s instruction. Bruce has a scarf that Clint knitted for him, and he loves it very much. Tony pretends to hate the bobble hat he has, but he wears it all winter).

(Mobile Readers, ‘ware the read more!)

She doesn’t greet him, and he lowers his book to watch her as she walks past his chair – her fingers brush casually over his shoulder, and he feels it like a brand on his skin – and heads towards a shelf. She doesn’t take the books out of the library, and sometimes she’ll bring a notebook with her, to make notes of passages she enjoys. She loves Tony, and respects him as much as she would respect Fury, or Coulson, perhaps even Clint (though that respect isn’t blatant). Tony might not see it yet, but she does, and she will know where the books came from; she’ll treasure ever little bit of trust placed in her.

She selects a large dusty volume with faded Italian on the spine. She smiles when she catches Bruce’s gaze as she turns, and Bruce finds himself smiling back. The Black Widow doesn’t do casual affection, but Natasha Romanoff and the parts of her that she’s rebuilt from the chipped off bits of other people revels in it. He fully expects her to pad over to his chair, but instead of stealing a cushion and folding herself to the floor to lean against his legs like she usually does, she hesitates.

That alone amazes Bruce – Natasha, for all her broken parts (and don’t they all have them?) is never anything but confident, her moves calculated for the best possible outcomes – to see her nervous makes the breath catch a little in Bruce’s throat. He wants to preserve this moment, staring up at her with a tiny smile and receiving a smile in those pale green eyes of hers. He almost expects her to bite her lip, but instead she remains silent, and gestures towards him. For a moment he thinks she means his book, but then he realises that it’s not his book at all – it’s where it rests.

He doesn’t think it all the way through before he moves his book aside so she can sit. The armchair is large enough that they’re not cramped together, and she folds herself into his lap like- like- like she belongs there. She’s half curled against his chest, her legs arched over his. She can rest her own book against her legs, and Bruce can rest his against her knees. Turning the pages is a little difficult, but Bruce doesn’t want to move the arm that’s almost cradling Natasha’s shoulders. She smiles as she read, and Bruce finds himself watching her mouth the Italian soundlessly more than he reads.

If Natasha notices (and she will have, Bruce knows) she’s kind enough not to mention it.

It doesn’t happen again for a few weeks. The next time Natasha joins him in the library she returns to leaning against his legs, and Bruce misses the weight of her curled against him. Her presence alone though is always a comfort – the other guy has a soft spot for her, for all the Avengers, but mostly for her – and he quiets when she’s around, like he too is quite happy just to bask.

When it does happen again, Bruce isn’t alone in the library. The battle was long and hard and trying for all of them. Steve’s curled up in a window seat, sketching away, occasionally staring out across the skyline without seeing it. Clint’s high-up on the shelves, moving between them softly – Bruce thinks he’s reciting poetry to himself, but he only catches snippets as the archer comes closer. He’ll settle down to knit eventually, but he’s still got all that adrenaline to work off.

Tony, however, has crashed. He’s on the lounger opposite Bruce’s armchair, muttering to himself but otherwise not doing a whole lot with an arm thrown over his face. Bruce is buried in his armchair, wrapped in a blanket, book forgotten in his lap as he tries not to give in to the pounding in his head.

Natasha’s silent when she comes in, or quiet enough that she’s lost under the breathing and muttering, and the occasional scritch-scratch of Steve’s pencil. She murmurs something softly to Clint which brings her to Bruce’s attention, just beyond his peripheral vision. He almost turns to stare at her, eager to drink her in and see that she’s okay; that her hair is still vibrant and her eyes are alight, but instead he waits. She wanders over to Tony, and before Bruce can fully treasure the sight of her bundled into a fluffy grey blanket, she sweeps it off her shoulders and over the genius, pausing to tuck it around him and drop a swift kiss to the genius’s head. Tony’s mouth quirks, and stretches into a full, genuine smile at whatever she mutters, and then she’s standing up and turning away.

Bruce knows what she will ask before she reaches him, and with his book closed and placed beside the chair, he unfolds the blanket enough that he can open his arms to her. Surprise is brief across her face, and her smile is blinding though it is small. She’s tense as she curls up against him, her feet tucked up on his thigh instead of under the other arm of the chair, and she nestles her head in the hollow of his throat instead of on his shoulder. He wraps the blanket around them both, and when she seems to relax as he reaches around her to do so, he remains. They’re cuddling, Bruce realises, and he can’t help but grin into her hair, even brush a featherlight kiss there in a sudden surge of bravery.

“Thank you…” she whispers.

“My pleasure.” He tells her honestly, and feels how she smiles against his chest.

Bruce is discussing Jane Austen with Pepper when she asks, in a lull of the conversation; “is Tony okay?”

Bruce almost blurts why wouldn’t he be? but taking a moment to sip his tea – he’d made them a teapot, with china Tony bought him after teasing him about his other set, and they’re both curled into chairs in the library – he observes her. “You broke up.” He realises, and it isn’t a question. Pepper doesn’t ask him if Tony hadn’t told them, it’s clear she realises that by her pained expression.

“He deserves more than I know how to give him.” She tells him, and Bruce understands that. He tells her so.

“Maybe not quite in the same way,” he concedes – it’s been no secret among the Avengers that while Pepper likes them all as people very much, she’s not fond of what they do for a living – “but I know a little of it.”

“Oh?” Pepper asks, a chance to explain but no pressure behind it, and Bruce takes a moment to feel happy that he doesn’t hesitate to tell her.

“Asexual,” is all he has to say and she’s nodding in understanding. There’s a silence between them, a little tension, and Bruce tries to decide how to answer her question – wonders, in fact, if there’s a way to answer it that won’t hurt Pepper.

“Steve’s keeping him distracted.” He settles on. She sips her tea, but after hours of watching Natasha’s shielded countenance he catches the little bit of hurt there. “He probably doesn’t know what from, yet, just that Tony’s been a little distant. He’ll be just fine, and so will you.” Pepper smiles over the brim of her cup.

“Thank you.” She tells him. “They’d be good for each other,” she murmurs, and then a sly smirk is sliding onto her face that would make lesser men quake. On the contrary it makes Tony nervous, and there’s not an Avenger besides Natasha that wouldn’t be a mite afraid of what that smirk meant. “Like you and a certain superspy.” She’s teasing – comfortable enough to do so, and oh, Bruce does love this little family they’ve all built for each other.

Oh.

Bruce feels his cheeks a little, but makes no effort to hide it.

“Clint’s not my type.” He tells her instead, and she laughs. Pepper Potts doesn’t get to laugh enough, but maybe she will now. He ducks his head, and sips his tea. “She’s… glorious.” He tells Pepper, and Pepper’s face lights up in a smile.

“You’d be good together.” She replies, soft and nudging, but mostly just warm – like the thought of her friends happy makes her happy too. Bruce realises then-

“Why didn’t you ask her about Tony?” Pepper’s smile dims, and Bruce immediately feels wretched – months ago, the sudden flare of guilt, of anger at himself would’ve resulted in code green, but now he thinks his eyes don’t even flash. There’s no fear in Pepper’s face, only a sadness that Bruce knows he didn’t put there, but feels responsible for.

“She’s mad at me. For hurting Tony.”

“Huh.” Bruce replies, a little shocked – perhaps even a little jealous. Natasha cares for Tony perhaps even more than Bruce realised.

“He’s like a brother to me.”

It’s another rainy day in the Avengers library. Steve and Tony are playing chess with the board nestled between them on the window seat. They’re bickering over the merits of different strategies – and possibly cheating – but their faux anger is entirely off-set by the fact that they’re holding hands beside the board and playing one-handed. Bruce has been watching them for a few minutes, jealous of their little bubble and wondering what Natasha – curled up by his feet – thinks. He glances down, and while she’d not looked away from her book to speak, she now leans her head back against the chair. He brushes her hair out of her eyes with a featherlight touch and she smiles.

“Brother?” he asks. He keeps his voice low, but Steve and Tony are so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t notice even if they were blatantly gossiping about them, aiming for a reaction. She nods, lips pursed.

“I always wanted one, as a little girl. An older one.” She closes her eyes and smiles. “Someone who would defend me, and wipe my tears away. Tuck me in. It was silly then, and perhaps it’s silly now.” Her eyes flick open, and Bruce can see the amusement dancing in them – so rare it is that she will mention her childhood, and even rarer still that she’ll smile when she does. “But he is what I’ve got.”

Bruce thinks, then, of the press conference after their last battle, when Tony had eviscerated a reporter with nothing more than a scrutinising look and several well-placed sentences; all because the man had dared to question Natasha’s place on the Avengers. Bruce had watched it later, having been asleep when the conference itself happened, and he’d been furious, and then stress baked (blueberry muffins, that found their way down to the lab as a thank you). Natasha had been even quieter than normal. “He’s a good man.” Bruce tells her when he remembers he still hadn’t replied.

“He is.” She reaches up then, and cups Bruce’s cheek. “But he’s not you, Bruce.”

“I will merely aspire to his level of flamboyance.” Bruce agrees, and Natasha’s quiet laugh is everything. It’s not a giggle like Pepper’s is, nor is it Tony’s shocked breathless thing, or Steve’s full-body laugh when you truly amuse him. It’s soft and musical and might be one of the most beautiful things Bruce has ever heard. He reaches up to rest his hand over Natasha’s on his face and lean into it. They remain a moment, and Bruce presses a ghosting kiss to her fingers as she draws her hand away. She tugs his down to return the favour, and then returns to her book.

#brucenat #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #asexual bruce #asexual nat #thecitywritesshow

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