#like you’re free to out this in my inbox….. but i’m also free to post it and say SHAME bc yeah

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

Cream into the void

SHAME. I AM SHAMING YOU ANON

also i now need to report a crime against the void :(

[chevroletdean]

nsft alphabet [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

genre: smut, explicit ─ minors dni! a/n: writing headcanons was easier than a kinktober one shot, oops. enjoy, i'll try to follow up with a sam version soon. and possibly other characters? (i'm feeling like writing one for alec mcdowell tbh) feel free to request any in my inbox! credit & links: alphabet ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts) @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It honestly depends on where you guys are, but generally speaking, he always makes sure you’re okay. If there’s anything you need, he’ll tend to it – which can range from a clean towel to a gentle forehead kiss. Even if you’re technically on the run or have somewhere urgent to be, he at least makes sure you’re both good to go.

Preferably he likes to take his time with you though. The aftermath of sex is one of the rarer opportunities for Dean to be openly sappy and vulnerable. Even with hookups, to some degree at least, the warmth of a lover’s arms is one of the places he can fully relax and he wants them to feel just as comfortable.

That said, he can be a little lazy. He makes sure the necessities of aftercare are fulfilled, always, but don’t always expect a luxurious bubble bath and immediately changing the sheets. Oftentimes he just wants to collapse onto bed with you and catch his breath.

He’s 50% giddy and proud smile – all cocky grins and smug bragging – and 50% sleepy. Your embrace is the closest he can get to experiencing heaven, he’s sure and getting to rest his head against your chest is the best feeling on earth. The sound of your steady heartbeat will definitely lull him to sleep and he’s insistent on cuddling the whole night through.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He has a love-hate relationship with his face. People keep telling him he’s handsome and even call him a pretty boy and sometimes he can’t see what they see. Most of the times his face card is a useful tool when it comes to investigation and working his charms. Other times he can’t stand looking at his own reflection. But when you compliment him on his freckled nose, his green eyes and long lashes, he definitely takes pride in it.

This particularly applies to his lips. He knows you love how pink and plump they are. And how pretty you think that smile of his is. It gets him anywhere he wants. Plus, the things he can do to you with that mouth, speaking sweet nothings, kissing you all over… what’s not to take pride in?

As for you, he’s a simple man, sometimes bordering on caveman – he’s obsessed with your butt and not shy to let you know. Whenever he gets the chance, his hand is somewhere on or close to your ass.

Your hands too though, not a chance he passes up on to hold it, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t think about your hands on him 24/7. If you wear any rings or nail polish, he always notices.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Loves to ask “Where do you want it, baby?” but his personal favorite is definitely in your mouth. Not even down your throat, he loves seeing you stick your tongue out for him, all coated in his cum, before you swallow.

He’s tried tasting his own cum before out of curiosity and had conflicted feelings about it. He’s even considered changing his diet afterwards, but (unsurprisingly) he got tired of eating so much fruit pretty quickly.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not really a secret, since it’s literally canon and we all know he loves wearing lacy panties, but yeah. He definitely stole a pair of your underwear before and he’ll deny having seen it anywhere if you’d ask.

Since he loves sexting, he definitely has a nude or two of you and after annoying Sam enough to show him how the stupid printer worked, he now keeps his favorite lewd picture of you in his wallet, because why not? It’s especially useful when you two have to be separated because you’re working on different cases or something of the sort.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Dean has obviously fucked around a lot (literally), countless of hookups under his belt. He definitely knows what he’s doing and he can be very annoying about it when he boasts.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

You on top of him is his favorite sight. His hands get to grab everywhere and he loves that he can focus on watching his cock slide in and out of you as you ride him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Sex, for Dean, is fun. It’s a good time, where you get to enjoy each other and make each other feel amazing. If he can’t get a giggle or a smile out of you, he thinks he’s not doing his job right.

However, there are definitely occasions that call for a more serious mood. Such as intimate moments after a rough day, where he and you just want to unwind and feel each other.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Short answer: He keeps his pubic hair trimmed, but not completely shaved.

Long answer: There’s other body hair he treats differently. Over the years he’s developed light chest hair, which he sometimes bothers to shave. He keeps his happy trail, as he’s never thought about it. His thighs are somewhat hairy. His body hair sometimes has a little hint of red color mixed into it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Unfortunately there’s little room for the real big romantic settings, such as rose petals and lit candles around the bedroom. With life on the road for the most part, you have to make do with what you have. He tries to make each time as special as possible though, it’s always passionate.

Dean’s a big softie once he lets his guard down, which you manage with ease. Very verbal, huge on saying sweet nothings. Lots of kisses. Definitely likes holding or touching you throughout it all. If possible, not a sheet of paper will fit between you two.

Eye contact is his strong suit. Doesn’t matter what position you’re in or what you’re doing, he loves getting lost in your eyes. If you ever avert your gaze or close your eyes, he reminds you to keep them on him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Dean, as a certified porn addict, beats his meat a lot. His libido is high and he can’t always come crawling to you, so he relies on trusty lube and his hand more often than he likes to admit.

Definitely has a fantasy of you walking in on him and lending him a helping hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Roleplay! Just the thought of you in a sexy costume gets him hard. You’d make him the happiest man alive if you greeted him in a nurse costume. He’d also be into a police officer costume, handcuffs included. It’s fun and it allows you two to play pretend for a bit.

Praise, both ways. He’s always gushing about how good you are, how amazing you feel, how pretty you look while you’re fucking. In return, he loves getting praised by you. Nothing fuels him more than pleasing you and he’s so eager for those compliments.

Food play, to some degree. He loves seeing your pretty mouth stuffed, lips wrapped around a sweet treat in seductive fashion. Or when he gets to lick whipped cream from your skin? Again, playful and fun.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His favorite location for sex remains a bed (bedroom, motel, he’s not too picky in that regard), because there he can take his time with you.

Of course making sweet love to you in the backseat of his car is always an option, too. The way the Impala's windows fog up is addictive for him.

That said, he won’t say no to other options. Not an inch of the bunker has not been defiled by the two of you. Shower, kitchen, the table in the main hall, the library, even Sam’s room while he was out. You name it, he’s fucked you there at least once.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Dean Winchester’s mind runs dirty at the smallest things. It doesn’t take much to pop the idea into his head that he wants to bend you over the nearest furniture or pin you against the nearest wall to have his way with you.

When you’re in a grumpier mood – that might sound shitty, but hear me out: He loves your gruffier, feisty side, because it makes him wish he could make that tension in your shoulders melt under his touch. He wants to kiss that scowl away and make you see stars until you forget about why you were even mad in the first place. You are hot. You being angry is even hotter, and it’s like a challenge for him to do something about it. Plus, you could always take it out on him, dominate the shit out of him until you’re no longer pent up and frustrated.

What never fails to drive him absolutely crazy is you wearing his clothes. You in his shirt or jacket makes his heartbeat skyrocket and his dick rock hard. It awakens something primal and possessive within him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A hard no for him would be anything involving causing you (intense) pain. I’d go as far and say he’d not even be into spanking, unless it’s like a playful slap on your ass. He’s not even a fan of choking or biting you. He hates seeing you hurt and if things get too intense, it’ll only trigger memories of him being forced to torture others in hell. There's already enough blood and guilt on his hands.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Hear me out when I say earlier seasons Dean goes weak in the knees when you suck him off. Nothing more of an ego boost than you drooling over his cock.

Later seasons Dean though? He likes to give head like a starved man. Getting you off is a huge turn on for him and admittedly, you riding his face is a high that he can’t compare to anything else. He’ll use every part of his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth until your legs give out and he has to hold you against him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood. He can do both, but he prefers slow and sensual. Dean loves taking his sweet time with you, worshiping every inch of your body. He wants to cherish the moment and really commit every detail to memory.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, proper and passionate sex is his preferred way to go. But even then he has a high sex drive and more often than not, you don’t have much time for anything but a quickie. Most of the time, actual proper sex is a luxury, so you make do with what you can.

If you two have to rush it, you might as well have fun with it: It’s turned into a challenge of how quickly he can make you come undone on his cock versus how long it’ll take for you to make him orgasm.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Leaning towards no. Referring back to the fact that he doesn’t like hurting you, he also doesn’t like putting you into danger. Safety comes first, otherwise it’s not enjoyable for him.

On the flipside, he’s experimental when it comes to new things. You wanna try out a new kink? Sure! He won’t say no to spicing up your sex life. Just nothing involving potential damage.

He definitely is risky when it comes to public spaces. Likes to steal touches, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much. The thrill of potentially getting caught red handed with his fingers between your legs under the table? Fuck, yes.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s not done until you are.

Lasts an average time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t go for a round two. Or three. Or more, you get the idea. Unless the situation calls for anything out of the order, he makes sure to be gentleman enough to make you cum first. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Handcuffs for him, or anything to tie him up with, you can get creative, so long as you tease him until he’s a whimpering mess unable to touch you.

Once you pulled out a butt plug and initially he thought it was for you, but, oh, was he wrong. Since then it has turned into a regular part of your bedtime activities.

He’s not one to get jealous of a toy, so if you want to use anything to rile yourself up further, he sees it as an aid more than a competition. Plus, there’s something insanely arousing about seeing you play with yourself, whether it is with the help of a toy or not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

More than anything he enjoys being on the receiving end of teasing. You can make him beg so prettily.

However, that’s during the sex itself. When it comes to working you up beforehand, he’s a master. Teasing touches, sultry words, dangerous spark in his eyes and a cheeky grin? He’s bold and he’s not afraid to bite off more than he can chew.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

If you want him to be, he can be so damn vocal. Big on the whimpering department if you dominate him. And, again, just as enthusiastic regarding sweet praise and dirty talk.

Other than that, he’s usually all heavy panting and grunting. Not so much moaning and screaming, that’s what he tries to make you do.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He knows it’s cliché, but he likes to turn on the record player when he has sex. Playing some music during the hanky panky makes the whole experience even better. His playlist, of course, consists mostly of classic rock, but he’s genuinely picked the more romantic songs. Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin, Love in an Elevator by Aerosmith… you get the idea. After an especially passionate night to a whole LP of Led Zeppelin, he couldn’t help but flinch and turn bright red when the same songs started playing in his car the next day. Dean also made a mixtape just for the occasion as a gift for you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

A good six and a half inches, about seven when he’s hard, in size and definitely on the thicker side in girth.

It’s smooth minus that one prominent vein on the underside.

Pink tip that turns even brighter when he’s aroused.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He broke the scale, Dean is one horny bastard.

He’s either going to town on you, much to the dismay of anyone else in the bunker, or he’s pent up most of the time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After making sure you’re okay and putting in some effort to clean up (at least a little), he’s out like a light. Dean is a light sleeper, but the blissfully exhausted state he finds himself in after exerting himself makes him clock out. It takes everything from him to not just collapse on top of you and say hello to dreamland sometimes.

[gottaluvharry]

family

carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader

summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain

———————————

Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.

“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.

“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.

As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.

—————————————

hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3

also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!

okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333

[mattybsgroupie]

MASTERLIST

— open here to read my stories ♡⊹𑄽୧

ABOUT ME

hello! my name is maria, i'm 21 and a matt girl for life. i became a fan of the triplets last year, but only had the guts to write again a few months ago and i'm so thankful i've been receiving great feedbacks from you guys and having such a good time here in this community.

i do not talk very often here cause it’s mainly for my stories, but i am online everyday at @bimboparis, my main account! that’s where i’ll be liking and following you guys from! im pretty chill and silly so feel free to dm me whenever you wanna chat! :) i don’t bite (unless you want me to)

i only write smut and the only rule in my blog is that i don’t do drama. i won’t be participating in any of it, so don’t even bother putting my name out there or inboxing me with gossip. if you have any issues with me please reach out and we’ll immediately fix it. my dms are always open so if there’s anything i’ve done that somehow bothered you, please let me know. i’m here to post fanfics and have a good time, that’s all.

♡⊹𑄽୧

MATT STURNIOLO

SUB!MATT

 MINE ➳ when matt claims that you’re only his, you show him he’s also gotta be only yours. ♡

LATE NIGHT RIDES 1 ➳ you and matt have some fun in his van while waiting for his brothers at a party.

LATE NIGHT RIDES 2 ➳ you and matt know you shouldn’t be doing this so often, but matt just can’t resist you in that dress.

MISBEHAVE ➳ matt kept calling you “mama” because he wanted your attention, even if that meant being punished later. ♡

PRETTY ➳ matt needs reassurance after reading nasty comments about his looks, and you make sure to show your boy just how pretty he is.

SLEEPOVER ➳ you and matt can’t fall asleep, and him calling you “mommy” definitely didn’t help.

HOMEWORK ➳ matt is the smartest guy in class, and you’ve been needing some help with your homework. ♡

SECRET ➳ matt finds out you have a dildo and wants to see if you can fuck him as good as he fucks you.

MOVIES ➳ you and matt have fun at the same movie theater you started dating as kids. ♡

ASSIGNMENT ➳ matt is a very good tutor, but he’s getting distracted by how short your skirt is.

CRY ➳ matt just looks so pretty when he cries.

♡⊹𑄽୧

DOM!MATT

FIRSTS ➳ after a rough week, matt gives you a massage that leads to your first time. ♡

TAPE ➳ you lost the flashcard where matt kept all of your intimate moments and as your punishment, you're recording a sex tape on a new one. ♡

TRIP ➳ after going to las vegas, matt misses you more than you’d imagined.

CALL ➳ matt can’t keep his mouth shut after seeing your new lingerie set. he needed to see you wearing it, even if it’s through a video call. ♡

MORNINGS ➳ waking up to a needy matt and having slow, sleepy sex with him.

BIRHTDAY ➳ after not celebrating his birthday, matt punishes you, even when you wear his favorite lingerie.

SECRET 2 ➳ matt knows you love his cock, but he also knew you had a good time with your dildo. he wants to fuck you with both.

JEALOUS ➳ matt can’t help it. he’s just a jealous guy.

♡⊹𑄽୧

CHRIS STURNIOLO

DOM!CHRIS

DRESS ➳ chris gives you a helping hand when your earring gets stuck on your dress.

♡⊹𑄽୧

NEXT WORKS

CAUGHT ➳ matt needed you so much he didn’t mind the risk of getting caught.

ATTITUDE ➳ you and matt never clicked well. this until you guys had to spend a whole night sleeping on the same bed.

HELP ➳ you’re a virgin — chris isn’t. he wants to help you with that.

BEACH ➳ chris can’t help it, you just look too good in that tiny bikini.

♡⊹𑄽୧

BLURBS AND HEADCANONS MASTERLIST

♡⊹𑄽୧

if you want to be tagged in my new stories, please leave a 🌸 emoji in the comments down below!

requests are always open — i might take some time to post but i’ll definitely write it, please be patient with me. same goes for my inbox and dms, come talk to me whenever you want!

fics tagged with a ♡ are my favorite works!

asks, requests and chats are under the #ask maria tag!

THANK YOU ♡

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )

part three

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs

“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.

she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.

“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.

but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.

“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.

“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.

paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.

“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”

it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.

but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.

like you’ll fall.

“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.

“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.

“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.

ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.

you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.

“you ready party animal?” cass teases.

“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.

each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.

you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.

tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.

you’ll never admit that to him, though.

it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.

the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.

you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.

“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.

you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.

“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.

“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.

“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.

“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.

“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.

it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.

mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.

“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.

“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.

“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.

it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.

bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.

you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.

so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.

you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.

it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.

“dance with me?” he asks over the music.

cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.

it’s not like it means anything anyways.

so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.

your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.

you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.

“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.

he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.

“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.

he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.

your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.

it’s just you and him now.

the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.

“what is wrong with you?”

your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.

“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.

“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.

“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.

“did you want me to?”

“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.

“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.

“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.

you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.

“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.

you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.

you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.

after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.

but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.

it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.

his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.

“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.

you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.

“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.

arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.

you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.

chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.

you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.

you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.

but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.

“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.

“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.

“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.

his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.

“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”

“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.

“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.

then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.

days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.

the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

✯social media au

✯oscar piastri x female reader

✯everyone know’s who oscar’s girl is, she makes it known

✯not requested but wanted to pop out an oscar post today! if anyone has any smau requests feel free to pop them in my inbox🩷

y/ninstagram

liked by oscarpiastri, wmagazine, mclaren and 745,000 others

what would i do without the most amazing bf who takes the most amazing pictures of his most amazing gf in the entire world 😁

tagged oscarpiastri

see 101,000 comments

username why is this caption sending me rn

username nah because she’s SO fine

landonorris this caption is sus, what did you do?

>y/ninstagram what makes you think i did anything norris??

oscarpiastri i love you most amazing gf

oscarpiastri also yeah i know u ate the last cookie

>y/ninstagram i love youuuuuuuuuu🥹

liked by oscarpiastri

username oscar and y/n are legit made for each other idc

y/ninstagram added to their story!

oscarpiastri do you need anything?

y/ninstagram a body that doesn’t hate me?

oscarpiastri kk on it 🫡

y/ninstagram my hero!!!!

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, y/ninstagram, wagsoff1 and 876,000 others

throwing it back to F2 to show these pics 100% give off the same energy

tagged y/ninstagram

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username PLS😭

username y/n looks so done i’m here for it

y/ninstagram you know what…

>oscarpiastri you love me? 😃

y/ninstagram i see how it is

landonorris *saves photo immediately*

>y/ninstagram 😐😐😐

username y/n is gonna be fighting for her life in these comments

mclaren we definitely agree with this caption

liked by oscarpiastri and y/ninstagram

oscarpiastri added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, lilyhme, oscarpiastri and 1M others

the three stooges, idk how i get roped into these things…oh wait i do, because oscar asks and i love him too much to say no😃

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri

see 203,000 comments

username okay the trio we need

username wait this friend group is EVERYTHING

landonorris don’t lie you loved twister

>y/ninstagram if you love getting ur stinky foot in your face sure

>landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

lilyhme im living for the chaos

>y/ninstagram save me :)))

username THESE COMMENTS

oscarpiastri thank you for always joining in!!!! ❤️

>y/ninstagram only for you 🙄

oscarpiastri added to their story!

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oscarpiastri

liked by y/ninstagram, f1gossip, landonorris and 989,000 others

y/n was offended i called her a gremlin, so i’m here to remind everyone she’s not a gremlin, she’s my very sweet, amazing, loving, caring most beautiful(est) girlfriend ever in the whole world ❤️

tagged y/ninstagram

see 324,000 comments

username caption seemed coerced??

>y/ninstagram what are you talking about?

username PLEASE😭

y/ninstagram i didnt force him to say anything

y/ninstagram he’s just really letting everyone know how great i am and how much he loves me🥰

>oscarpiastri 😃😃😃😃

landonorris HAHAHA HIS FACE RN😭

>y/ninstagram send a pic or ur not a real friend

username oh this is fucking hilarious

mclaren is oscar being held against his will?

>y/ninstagram never 🥰

y/ninstagram

liked by cosmopolitan, oscarpiastri, wagsoff1 and 765,000 others

another great gp weekend with the best man ever❤️❤️ (no he was never held against his will😁)

tagged oscarpiastri

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username these two are endgame for me

username PLS y/n clearing the air yet again

username mother is mothering

oscarpiastri it was a great weekend, minus the kidnapping

>y/ninstagram you’re so dramatic it was not a kidnapping

>landonorris hmm debatable

>y/ninstagram NORRIS

username 😭😭😭

lilyhme chaos again?

>y/ninstagram it never ends:)))

[dollyyss]

stop stop bc bc bc bc um um um.

maybe u should do hpw craigs gang kisses you. maybe

~🍋

Because I love you, and I was thinking of Craig and remembered I had this in my inbox.

Also I promise I’ll get requests done I post once or twice sometimes Daily so I do what I can! But please feel free to bring requests in!!

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙂𝙎 𝙂𝘼𝙉𝙂 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎

𝙀𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥! 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝘼𝙐

𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜, 𝘾𝙡𝙮𝙙𝙚, 𝙅𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙮, 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not really aware of any, if there is please let me know!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Craig ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⋆｡˚

Craig leans into the kiss, he subtly brushes his thumb against the back of your hand, creating a tender connection beyond the physical act of kissing. It adds a sweet and personalized touch to the moment, expressing his deeper connection without saying it. one he just doesn’t do far too often.

-His kisses tend to be quick. Just pecks to your lips or the sides of your cheeks.

-I think there’s a part of him that’s a bit.. afraid to fully go in for it? He doesn’t want to kiss you just to kiss you, he wants to kiss you to.. explore that whole side of his love for you. But he doesn’t want to overdue it.

-Though.. when he does go in for it, his hands are holding onto you for dear life, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away from him. He becomes more confident in himself, pressing himself against you, his nose a bit squished against you.. your like some drug he can’t stop. Filling him with a buzz he can’t come down from. When like this he occasionally bites at your bottom lip, softly pulling when he stops the kiss.

- Never a huge one to do it outside ever or in public, and if he does they aren’t on the lips. They’re on the top of your head, quick swift kisses.

-He’s the same when not in public as well, except he’s more then okay with giving you them when you both are alone. So it’ll tend to happen more often then.

Clyde

In the quiet intimacy of a moonlit night, Clyde’s letterman Jacket had been hung on your shoulders, eyes wandering as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. The air hummed with unspoken words as his lips met yours, creating an overwhelming feeling of the weight of a thousand untold stories in that stolen kiss. “You taste good.” With a soft shove he let out a blissful laugh, “Clyde you are so stupid.”

“Stupid enough for you to kiss again?”

- he’s quite the kisser. Will take any god damn kiss he’ll get. I’m telling you he’ll pout like a mother fucker if he doesn’t get it. He thinks your lips are so fucking sweet, so addicting.

-his normal kisses are always on your lips. Yes occasionally he’ll kiss elsewhere but he loves how soft your lips are, how they fit so perfectly with his. If he could kiss you a million times he would, never wanting to pull away.

-Clyde is completely okay with PDA. So kisses in public? 100%. He wants everyone to know you’re his. His arm will be hung around your shoulder whilst he talks to one of his friends. He’ll press a kiss to the side of your head every now and then, sometimes pulling your chin to look up at him and placing a kiss to your lips.

- He can be needy. When things are heated there’s no getting Clyde Donovan off of you. He’s pushing you back against his bed, lips locked while his hands roam underneath your shirt with curiosity. He won’t stop for air, I’m telling you. He’s desperate for you.

Jimmy

With an unexpected twist of humor, Jimmy seized the moment, pulling you into a spontaneous dance of laughter. Amidst giggles, he planted a playful, yet surprisingly genuine kiss, turning a lighthearted exchange into a memory where joy and affection collided in a delightful, whimsical symphony

- Oh Jimmy. That sweet sweet boy. He loves you tremendously. He likes to kiss you wherever! But his personal favourite is your nose. He loves whenever he makes a joke.. you laugh so hard your nose turns pink. He can’t help himself but plant a kiss to it, making you giggle even more.

- he’s okay with kissing in public, but he’s more then happy to share these moments at home. Though,, if you ever have a really shitty day at school, you have a panic attack.. anything. Text him. He’s immediately getting up from his seat and coming to your aid. Once he finds you, his crutches are against the wall and he’s sliding down the wall to sit, ushering you over to sit between his legs. Your face is littered in kisses, occasionally your lips.

- When moments become more intimate they tend to be a bit silly, his lips move at such a sloppy rate, his hairs a mess. Occasionally your teeth clink against his braces and he can’t help but laugh with you before diving back in. He’s gentle, but also likes to get what he wants so he does put quite a bit of force to it.

-he can be a goofy kisser…. He once puckered his lips for you to give him one.. just for him to blow a raspberry and piss himself laughing at your face..

Tolkien

In the soft ambiance of a candlelit evening, he held out his hand, a silent invitation to a dance that transcended mere steps. With a courteous smile, he led you through the waltz of shared glances and whispered conversations. Finally, in a moment of undeniable sincerity, he pressed a gentle kiss upon your hand, leaving an indelible mark on your pumping heart.

- stop because he’s so god damn loving. We know Tolkien to be quite the gentleman, he’s constantly kissing at your knuckles, your hands and up your arms. He’s like Clyde, he just can’t seem to keep his lips off of you. It doesn’t matter where.

-you’re sitting on his lap while his lips dance over your chin and jaw, sitting beside him class? He’s gripping your hand and placing a gentle kiss to it, crying? He’s kissing those tears away. You took a nap on his bed, he’s finding his way over and placing a kiss to your head and tucking you in.

-he’s more then okay with it in public. You don’t have to ask him please, he’s delighted to have your lips on him, he wants to show people he’s happy in his relationship.

-He’s quite good at it, he knows when to be rough, when to be soft, when to pull away to leave you wanting more.. and he uses this so often to tease you whilst your body sits on his lap facing him, a chuckle escaping his lips before he kisses your neck..

Tweak

Amidst the whirlwind of nervous thoughts, he took a deep breath, his anxious gaze meeting your understanding ones. In that vulnerable moment, he mustered the courage to bridge the gap, and as your lips met, a quiet reassurance unfolded—a kiss that spoke of shared vulnerabilities and the solace found in each other's presence.

-He’s so scared to do it wrong. He’s so scared to push forwards, to place his hands literally anywhere. What if you didn’t like it? What if you didn’t want his kiss? “Tweak my love, right here..” he melts when you place your hands on his to guide him. Once you’ve done it, he’s confident enough to place shaky lips on yours.

-He likes kissing your jaw, and lips. Your jaw being because he enjoys being able to hide his away, peppering kisses to your jaw while he takes in the scent of your hair. It’s soothing to him. And your lips because they’re so warm. If he’s ever just not able to calm himself he’s looking for you immediately to press his lips to yours, soon hiding his face and littering kisses all along your jaw.

-He’s typically not the one to act out on kissing in public but if you do it to him he doesn’t mind it. Just try not to in a group of people, not that he’s embarrassed of you but more embarrassed that people could stare at what he believes is a sweet intimate moment.

- hi. He’s whiny when he kisses. Because I said so. He doesn’t like when you pull back, he grips your shirt muttering out a shaky whine and almost begging you for you to come back. His eyes are half lidded, lips quivering while his hands find anyway to bring you closer. “No! You can’t just.. pull away from me like that, agh! I need you..”

- Needy. Whiny kisser. I love him.

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell�� you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[tonberry-yoda]

Five More Minutes - Kento Nanami

notes - This one's for the poll :) Thanks for voting guys, seriously, it always helps because I have such an urge to write, but don't know who to write for T^T Speaking of, feel free to drop any character in my inbox :) word count - 402 genre - fluff warnings - none :)

“When’s the last time we took a vacation?” you asked, your voice thinning out as you stretched in bed.

Nanami snorted and rolled over on his side. “Have we ever even taken one?”

You turned yourself over and cuddled Nanami. “We should take one then.” you whispered.

“Easier said than done.”

You ran your fingers over his bare back feeling goosebumps rise.

“We deserve it though.” you told him, pressing your fingers onto his back, almost massaging him lightly.

“You deserve it.”

“Shut up.” You pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and hugged around him. You felt his thumb rub over your knuckles before he placed a kiss onto them. “Everyone deserves a vacation. Plus, I don’t want to see you work yourself to death. You’re better than that.”

Nanami rolled over so he could look you in the eyes. He had bags under his own eyes and despite a good night’s sleep, he looked as though he could pass out again. “I could say the same about you, y/n.”

“Shush.” You let him wrap his big arms around you that always gave you that secure feeling. You smiled and took a big breath in. You never wanted to leave when he did this, but you also always knew what was coming.

“We gotta get ready for work.” Nanami said, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You groaned and held him tighter. “Five more minutes.” you grumbled.

“No, love, we have to go. We had five minutes.”

You pouted as he tried to pull away from you, and you clung onto him like an animal.

“Babe, I’m serious.” he giggled, trying to pry you away.

“And I’m serious too.”

You somehow managed to let go, but maneuver yourself in a way where you grabbed onto his back and slammed him right back down on the bed. When he fell to his doom, you looked at your hands in surprise. You knew you were strong – since you were a sorcerer and all – but not that strong.

You turned to Nanami and smiled before pouncing on him to press kisses and lay in bed for just five more minutes.

“We really do need a vacation.” he said, grabbing your thigh and rubbing his thumb over your soft skin.

“I’ll start planning.” You pecked him on the cheek and got out of bed to get dressed.

“Going already?” he pouted.

“You’re awful.” you teased.

~~~~~

jjk masterlist | pinned post

2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[storm-angel989]

🎀IM SORRY FOR BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX! But Val/Vox(idrc which one) x Anorexic Daughter Reader?🎀

PLEASE READ BEFOREHAND

Hi Friend,

You’re not blowing up my inbox- I keep every request in a google doc and when inspo hits I work on it! If I ever decide I won’t do a request I won’t just delete it- I’ll post and say it directly <3 

Preface for this work:

 I’m considered a plus sized equestrian/plus sized human. Eating disorders come in all shapes, sizes and issues. I believe it’s Blythe Barid who said “If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story.”

Stories like these are based on my own experiences and issues- and on this topic, I’ve had quite a few. Please remember that all bodies are worthy of love and respect, care and concern. It's a tough concept to wrap our heads around, and admittedly I still struggle with it. 

A little background info: 

ED’s are a huge part of my writing that I haven’t published. Ana and Mia are characters I have created (or maybe my own food issues created them). Either way, they’re  separate entities for separate stories- demons that I imagine have their own place in hell as well as in my writings (all of which have been in existence far longer than Hazbin). That being said, naming your ED is something I did and I have done. Even for the purpose of writing this story, the entire thing felt wrong without Ana running the behind the scenes. 

With this one I tried to pain the pain, the anger and frustration behind that never feeling good enough feeling. I would be open to doing part two if folks would be interested. Please also know I’ve written on this topic in several other forms if you explore my masterlist (or I can directly send you the links if you PM me). 

<3 Mandy 

I stepped on the bathroom scale and looked at the number that flashed below. The words of my coach echoed in my mind- I needed to lose the summer weight, or else I would be benched for the rest of the season. She had helpfully provided me with a journal to keep track of my weight, what I ate in a day, activities I did and how many calories I burned in accordance with my VoxTech watch. 

A month ago, I had met her goal, thus ending the weekly weigh-ins. According to her, I had lost enough weight to maintain my place on the team. It was on me now to make sure that I maintained that weight, or lost more. In her exact words, you could never be too skinny. 

“Bebita? Breakfast,” my fathers voice called from the hallway. “Come on, before it gets cold.”

The number told me I hadn’t gained weight, but I hadn’t lost weight either. I picked my backpack up and slung it over my shoulder. 

“Sorry, Dad! I’m late! I’ll eat at school, I promise,” I answered back as I rushed out the door. 

Surely skipping breakfast wouldn’t hurt. 

Skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch. Skipping lunch turned into avoiding dinner. Sugar free jello and skinny pop became my go to snacks as the numbers in my book slowly but surely began to get smaller. Somewhere, a little voice inside my head began to cheer my successes on the scale. Over time, I learned that she had a name. 

Ana. My secret diet partner. My invisible cheerleader. The willpower I needed to keep going on the hardest days. And most importantly, someone who paid attention to me, 

With each passing day, Ana grew louder. She encouraged me to keep my diet a secret from my family. After all, they wouldn’t understand. Pleasing her, it became almost like an addiction- a game I played with myself to see just how little I could become. Food became nothing more than numbers, an obsession that consumed every minute, every second of my thoughts and desires. 

In my household, it wasn’t hard to keep it to myself. Hell, one could argue that I wasn’t technically even keeping it a secret. My father had a very important job, after all. And my Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make the connection. A quick, I ate earlier, sorry! And I got off scott free. Ana cheered with each no thank you I uttered. My head between my knees after practice had become a ritualistic practice. Waiting for the black spots to fade, taking deep breaths to try to regain the energy to stand up and walk out to the awaiting limo. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting at home for me anyway. 

On the daily, I kept a careful eye on my voxtech watch. The first time my blood sugar dropped, I got a call from Vox. Paniced waves rushed through me. A suggestion from Ana to bribe to a friendly tech demon. A brief trade later, I had constant vitals being sent from my watch, my real ones hidden behind a password. With this newfound freedom, outside of homework and practice, my time normally devoted to hobbies or hanging out with friends became time to sleep. After all, I was working on the perfect body. I needed my rest. 

For almost six months, Ana and I were best friends. 

Saturday morning. Game day. One of the busiest days for my father. After all, lust and depravity raked through the weekends like wildfire. Or at least, that was what he claimed. I stood in front of the mirror trying desperately to tighten the drawstring 

“Hey bebita?” I heard my fathers voice call from the hallway. “Baby, are you up?”

“Yeah, Dad. I have a game today,” I snapped as I tied another knot in the string. 

Why the fuck wouldn’t these stupid shorts stay up? I fumed to myself. Every part of my body ached, and even yanking on my shorts sent black spots and exhaustion rushing through my body. I leaned my head against the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this. 

The next thing I heard was my fathers voice, felt his hand shaking my shoulder. It took every ounce of energy to open my eyes. 

“Bebita? Reader, can you hear me?” Valentino asked frantically. “Princessa, wake up, now!”

“I’m fine,” I muttered as loudly as I could. Somehow, I managed to push myself upright. 

“You most certainly are not fine,” he replied sharply. “I’m taking you downstairs to the doctor, right now.”

Doctor. That meant I would miss the game. No, I had an obligation to my teammates. Somewhere in my head, Ana screamed.

Get up, fatass!

You really want to fuck this up for everyone?

You better not let him take you to the doctor, you do that and you’ll never find perfection. 

“I’m fine,” I growled, louder this time. I pulled myself to my feet and black spots dotted my vision. I felt my fathers arms around me and in seconds, I was off the floor and in his arms.

“Put me down, I can walk,” I tried to yell. Inside my head, Ana screamed louder, demands and insults about my current predicament. I pressed my hands to my head and curled my fingers in my hair, “Dad let me down NOW!” 

He ignored me as he carried me down the hallway. 

“Vox? Velvette? Both of you, with me. Now. We have a problem.” He said loudly. 

“Woah, what’s going….” Vox’s voice began. 

I shoved my hand against my father as he walked through the living room.  To my relief, he set me down on the couch. 

“What?” I snarled as three sets of eyes stared at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

Vox checked his phone and then walked over to me. With one finger, he lifted off my Voxtech watch. 

“Hey! Give that back!” I demanded. “I’m going to be late to my game!”

All three of them ignored me. Wordlessly, Velvette walked away and returned moments later, bathroom scale in hand. She set it infront of the couch and gave me a hard look. 

“Step on.” 

“Fuck you,” I snapped as I stood up. I tried to ignore the black spots that danced just out of sight. “My weight is none of your fucking business.”

“Reader!” Valentino said in dismay. “That’s no way to talk to your Aunt.”

“I’m leaving, I’m already late. Thanks, Dad,” I continued sarcastically as I kicked the scale aside. 

Inside, Ana cheered. I bent down to pick up my backpack and the world around me spun. Three steps,  and Vox’s hand gripped my upper arm. The last thing I heard was Ana’s voice screaming indistinguishable words. 

When I came to again, I found myself in a room of gray and blue. Wires stuck out from my chest, and I tried to cough and spit the feeling of something painful in the back of my throat. I tried to reach up, to shove my fingers down my throat, and my skin met padded white cuffs. 

What the fuck?

You’re going to have to work hard to get yourself out of this one, Ana taunted. Great job getting caught, fatass. 

“Hey, baby, it’s alright, Papi is here,” I heard my father’s voice say somewhere far away. 

“Mr. Valentino, I promise we’ll be in touch when she’s more stable,” a new voice said. “For now, it might be best to give her some space to…”

Indistinguishable arguments. My fathers refusal and reminder of who exactly was in charge here. My Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette chiming in, a mix of talking him down and agreement. 

Panic shot through me as the haze slowly began to wear away. Realization. Through the fog, only one word came to mind. 

Fuck.

[blommp717]

i guess you don’t answer anymore but i’m hoping you at least read this because it’s genuine and i feel like i have nowhere else to post this. i just want someone to hear me. ignore this if it’s too long. i want to thank you for your posts. they are the only writings that have truly resonated with me ever since i discovered the law, neville, states, being, whatever we call this thing. but i’ll be honest i’m giving up today. i discovered the ‘law of attraction’ in 2019 when i was 18 years old. it is now getting to the last quarter of 2024 and i am 23 where i’ve evolved in understanding to where i found ‘nondualism’. i went from law of attraction -> law of assumption & neville goddard -> robotic affirming -> mindset fixing & joe dispensa -> states & edward art -> nondualism. however… i have never manifested a single thing in my life. i used to be filled with anxiety when i said this. fearing these words would cause it to keep going on but i don’t even want to fear anymore. it’s just the truth. your posts taught me that i don’t have to fear my words anymore anyways. i’ve had a dream for a long time. i don’t believe i will ever reach this dream anymore. along with that dream i also just really wanted good for my family and i. you know the basics like financial freedom, happiness, mended relationships. but throughout everything i’ve learned i could never make it work and i’m just done. i guess i will return to living a normal life and just hoping i make it. i hope i find happiness or just.. anything. i’m just letting go of it all because i feel like things shouldn’t be this hard. even going to caleb’s channel and watching his recent ‘your manifestation isn’t taking long, you are’ video…. i’m just… exhausted. i just dont know how to do this and i don’t think i can take life anymore anyways. but yeah i just wanted to say thank you. even though i could never find success, you taught me who I Am. and i’ll forever be grateful for your wisdom even though you’re a bit younger than me. i hope you find continued success and live a happy life. sincerely

THIS IS JUST THE FIRST PART TO THE HUGE POST, PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME

After what felt like months away from tumblr I really dove into self-inquiry fully, and of course still am, and I promised you guys a mega post so here’s the initial information so far. There is more to come.

IM SORRY IF THERE ARE ERRORS IN GRAMMAR OR SMTH I WROTE THIS AT MANY DIFFERENT MOMENTS THROUGHOUT THE DAY!! FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS, ETC BUT PLS DONT ASK BY RESPONDING TO THIS POST, ITLL CAUSE SO MUCH SPAM ON THE FEED AND MY ASKS PAGE

Hello! Yes I have started looking back into my inbox (THERE ALLOT OF ASKS 😭😭🫶) but I absolutely plan on answering as many as possible, and because your post resonated with how I used to feel, I want to answer yours first.

So to begin with, It makes me so happy to know that what I’ve written has some kind of affect (that being positive). I can’t remember if I told you guys how old I was but I must have cus you seem to know 😭😭, yes I’m 19 we’re very close in age, this moment in life is when allot of us who figure out this stuff lean into it more because we realize how much of a leg up we have if we just “apply” the teachings this early on.

So first what I want to say to you is, no, your not giving up on a dream and neither are you going to live a normal life, I’ll make sure of that, this beautiful world that we step into gives us so much insight on what we inherently are. But I need to remind you and everyone else, this is not some big secret that has to be practiced, it’s a look at what we are and always will be. You have purpose and you deserve to be happy and enjoy a life that’s easy and fulfilling. I apologize in advance because this is going to be a pretty long post!! 🫶🫶

Let’s get rid of the labels and titles we’ve given these understandings as if they are for someone to learn and master. No one masters manifestation, no one will ever master manifestation and I truly don’t care for how many “success stories” they have, it doesn’t hold proving value of what they are (notice how I didn’t say who), we are not who’s, but that’s for later in the post.

The reason I’ve stepped away from the concept of manifesting is because it is inherently lack and separation based. No matter the teaching, they all seem to glorify the idea of getting and achieving which puts great pressure on success stories and all that rubbish. (Not me turning British) 😝😝, okay sorry, so yeah this also goes for nondualism, I don’t associate a title with what I learn, it’s not NonDualism it’s actually just self discovery in disguise of a teaching. But for this exact reason I don’t think to myself “I need to learn NonDualism better”, nononooooo I made this mistake wayyy to much due to the sole fact that I came in with the expectation that this would now teach me the secrets of manifesting. This is kind of the set up to more desire and lack, which is actually the opposite of the self-realization “journey”.

So, when you say you have never manifested anything in your life, I say this with incredible pleasure, that this is impossible, I know I know, before you start thinking to yourself that youve heard this before but I don’t think people go that in depth as to what that even means. So, your life and your problems, are not actually problems.

Self-realization is not the journey for the person to become consciousness, but to understand that you ARE consciousness to begin with. You does no reference a someone, but “ “.

This is going to be, quite a post so PLEASE hang in there. And I just want to add in, this is still not a seperate being trying to understand that it’s connected to conciousness, no, you as conciousness, infinite knowing, are so involved with the content that you appear as, you’ve tricked yourself into thinking that you are just 1 thing of the content. Let me use my first example.

We have given ourselves the greatest interpretation and key to knowing ourself, and that’s dreaming.

Every night, we sleep, HOORRAAYYYY, now let’s get into the details because this is where the magic happens and it clicks.

Take the moment before a dream appears, recognize that when the eyes are closed there’s this presence. Not the darkness, the presence. Something, but not a thing.

Stay here and forget the rest of the world exists for a moment. Now there is only this presence, it’s knowing, it’s being right? Now there’s no actual material but regardless, it is, something. This isn’t something out of this world it’s literally, you. From this, knowing or no-thingness, comes expressions, absolutely infinite potential, this is registered as a dream, but, before the dream in any way can be experienced, there always has to be some type of interpreter/lens, this comes in the form a person or better yet, senses. Of course, there’s nothing to the senses or the person but whatever it’s formulated from, which was that presence/knowing. The activity of this infinite potential that is the knowing, (you asleep) appears, only with the help of a pov/sight.

Nonetheless, it plays out, it plays stories of absolutely anything, for no reason at all, and as it does, we get lost to it, it starts to become real, and without even realizing it, it’s no longer a dream but something we’re experiencing, now you are the character in the dream and you naturally play out the dialogue and storyline and explore the fields, magic towers, and laugh and dance and make friends, and then you wake up.

When you wake up, you recognize “oh, nothing was actually happening”, now of course, when your the person in the dream it is very real, but even then, is it? Knowing what you know, there wasn’t actually a place with dialogue, no character of its own experience or life, no actual forests or fields and magic, no one actually laughing and dancing or friends, but simply the appearance of that. The illusion.

And it’s not that it’s only a formulation of you when you realize it is, but it always is, the dream doesn’t only become an illusion or “fake” when you wake up, it’s naturally just fake, REGARDLESS of how it seems to be. And regardless we sleep every night knowing that we’ll forget it’s a dream.

So I think you can see where I’m headed with this, I’m going to use the example Rupert Spira uses but twist it a bit.

You go to sleep in Australia and dream yourself in the streets of Paris, and you take on the identity of John, you don’t actually become John and experience the streets of Paris.

Now, John drinks coffee and he feels the sunlight warm his skin, sees the greenery, feels the wind, all of it. But despite the way it all seems the sunlight, the sensations that John has, is not actually real, and neither is John. John isn’t actually feeling anything, he doesn’t exist and there is no Paris being traveled. And it’s not John that realizes/awakens to the understanding that he’s fake and this is all a dream, it’s you, asleep in Australia that realizes it as you modulate/formulate as the streets of Paris, the coffee, and the greenery, and John, understand?

The activity of that presence, if you recall when we talked about closing your eyes, formulated as something that seemed so real, and that doesn’t give any reality to the dream itself, because there is no separating the knowing from the content known. Without the “space” for it to appear or form from, how on earth would there be the content? A bigger step forward is to realize that there isn’t even an actual dream occurring but it’s all the self knowing presence of, well, knowing. I want to add something very important before moving on.

Knowing does not happen for the purpose of pleasure, we naturally deconstruct false ideas like this as we go, but something you MUST understand about the nature of existence is, none of this is appearing for the purpose of ant experience, there isn’t actually an experience. No one is enjoying nor hating the illusion, it is simply an appearance.

In the same way that the aware/presence before the dream appears from it simply is, in this way, we are. It’s like saying the TV screen plays a movie and experiences it, or does it for the purpose of experience, no that’s silly, knowing has no inherent motive, it is, you (infinite knowing) don’t “happen” for a purpose, never mind happen at all, you are, and in this do you take form of something, your self aware nature of course knows the content of your own being, but that doesn’t mean the illusion can enjoy itself, or that you enjoy or experience the illusion, it’s just a plain appearance, and that’s it.

For example, when you close your eyes on this next demonstration, truly try to grasp the essence of what I’m trying to explain.

Bring from the nothingness/knowing when you close your eyes, a blue vase, know it in every aspect you can, incorporate every sense you can (even taste if your a little freaky 🫦🫦😭) and make it as present as possible. After you open your eyes I have a question for you. (I’m serious, do the damn practice it’ll help you) please take as much time you need to truly get in there (not too long I can’t wait all day)

okay hey, your back, now answer me this, from what did this immersive appearance take reality from? You and I know that there’s no actual vase despite its presence, no matter the vibrant or dull colors, no matter the feel, rough or glossy, its taste 🫦😭, its feel, etc. So what was the substance that formulated this? If you guessed knowing, your soooooo correct, if you didn’t it’s okay you get brownie points 🫶. But yes, now I need you to understand this verrrry clearly, the vase was not real!!!! Yet it appeared that way! This is AN ILLUSION SURPIRISISIEIEIEIEIEIEISISBWHH- yes. No matter how much you want to convince yourself and go back to the vase and its appearance and its feel or colors or any aspect of it, it wasn’t ACTUALLY happening and that means it didn’t take place for anyone or anywhere!!! All there was present was knowing, from knowing forms vase and every seemingly alternate way that it is known, feeling is a form of knowing, literally every sense is just a form of knowing. Every sense that was “used” to understand the vase was all just aspects and appearances of knowing, the color, the sounds, the taste, the feels, they didn’t formulate anywhere else, but nonetheless appeared as immersive and real because YOU BECAME FOCUSED ON THE CONTENT OF THE APPEARANCE RATHER THAN RECOGNIZE THAT IT WAS JUST APPEARANCE. And even though the content of the appearance you formed as became the focus, it still didn’t change the objective fact that there wasn’t someone actually there and experiencing it in any way.

The knowing in/on which appearances formulate is not something different than the appearance, there is nothing to the illusion but its reality, and its reality is knowing. In this way, the illusion couldn’t even be described as something real or taking place, as if it could exist apart from the source of it.

Knowing this is also knowing there is no such thing as the knowing OF, we never know of things or of experiences as if they are something seperate and exist seperatley from knowing itself, that’s literally impossible. Moving forward

You are not the person/character, and it’s not that you are a limited being and you have to wake up to the idea that you are infinite knowing, you have to realize that you were never something seperate, and that this is simply the modulation of your being, and it’s not a someone it’s more of a something.

Let’s starts stabilizing this.

To all of the experiences across centuries, theres one constant amongst the billions of people who’ve lived and are now and that is, I Am. We might not know for certain about anything else ever in this entire universe, and we might not even know who or what we are but for a fact we can say, yes, I am.

There’s no true word that can describe the infinite essence of being, so we use knowing or conciousness or god, all completely the same.

So, to every experience, without an ounce of doubt, there can be the claim, I am. This is knowing, and only from knowing comes the statement, because we must know we are in order to claim that we are. I think something that can capture this is a newborn, imagine yourself to be newly born, mere seconds I mean, eyes closed. You have no understand of anything, no thoughts, no memories, no identity, your pure experience is simply being/knowing, and I don’t mean the action of knowing, that’s not a real thing. Knowing is inherent, you don’t force it.

Going back to experiences. Any experience that is recognized, any seeing, and hearing, tasting touching, and of course feeling, is assumed to be the experience of the body and this is therefore falsely established as “me”, in doing so, we forget our true nature of freedom and limit our understanding and abilities to the limitations of the body.

I’m now going to help you realize the body is an interpreter, and not of a world that’s happening somewhere in time and space, but that the world is the interpretation/modulation/illusion/dream/appearance of our shared infinite being, AFTER being recognized through the interpretations, (sensations and perceptions). This also means that it’s in no way an actual measurement to what you fully are.

What experience is there to seeing? Better yet let me narrow it down, there is nothing to seeing as if there is someone doing the seeing. Seeing simply is. There’s no one to do it, just what is. There is sight, how is there an acknowledgment of the sight/seeing? There must be something to it that gives the understanding “oh I’m seeing this”. (Hint, it’s the same thing that let you know, that “I Am”). Knowing, yes, not knowing as an action, that’s not real, people don’t know, knowing is the essence of what we are (we are not people). But just wait for that. So all there is to sight is knowing, and I don’t think I have to do this but you can say the same about absolutely every other sense, because every single “experience” absolutely requires knowing. Without knowing, “experience” never is, I think we can all acknowledge that.

There is no such thing as the experience of being a human, Why are we deciding that this is what’s it’s like to be humans, we know humans we acknowledge humans but there is no such thing as being a human, in the same way that there’s no true way that there is something to being a fox or a bird or a rock, it’s only with labels are these ideas decided.

The only thing you’ll be able to muster up is memories, emotions, etc, but that doesn’t make it the inherent experience of being a human. Our first and only experience of what we are is knowing, and then knowing that we are, that’s it. In the same way that a babies first experience is not “I am a baby” or “I am a human”, rather it’s just knowing. If being human was our nature, that’s all we’d recognize, and from the very beginning. Our experience does not actually change from being/knowing, we simply forget that there is the knowing, and decide to focus on the body to be “me” or “human”.

You don’t need senses to know you are. Knowing is something unimaginable. Go ahead and try to find it by closing your eyes or even with them open. Can you grab or touch the knowing. Can you recognize its dimensions or what its appearance is? How old or young is it?

Do me a favor and find the edge where knowing starts and stops.

Let me know when you find it because you never will.

Even when you try, it’s only conciousness itself that searches for its own parameters.

By recognizing that your truly not the body, or this person you as knowing have pretended to become, the made up problems of the person disappear, well actually, you realize that there is no person that has problems, only an idea. Only the idea that I am someone and something is happening to me, I am something seperate and need saving. There isn’t actually a seperate self, the seperate self is the activity that you as knowing are, when you become involved with the content and forget your true nature. And what’s truly the main takeaway from this is that, even when it seems like you’ve lost it and now you have to restart and understand it all over again, you as knowing haven’t gone anywhere, your the one pretending to be something lost, and not on purpose, but because you involve yourself too heavily in the appearances without recognizing where they originate from.

From what we know so far, I hope in some way you’re able to recognize that there is no one doing manifestations and having success stories. You ARE the manifestation and it will NEVER be any other way, whether we recognize it or not, that’s the beauty. So no matter if we go on about this appearance of life and say we don’t get it and move on, you as conciousness will continue to play the roles, because there is no off switch to this.

I’m hope this has been able to start untying the blinds over your “eyes” and you’re starting to somewhat understand the truth of what you/we are. This is only the beginning and it’s only going to get more incredible and beautiful from here. But for now I’m shleeepy hehehe, I’ll talk to you soon, never ever give up on your dreams!!!! 🫶❤️❤️

[wonderingpanda]

Hallooo!

May I request reader catching the bayboys staring at them? Lovesick, maybe?

I just love the Eugene staring at Rapunzle scene.

Lovesick Stares

Bayverse!Turtles x Reader

Hi! Sorry for not posting in so long, I’ve been really busy the past month. I also want to apologise, there was another Bayverse request in my inbox but I must of accidentally deleted it since I can’t find it anymore. If the person who sent me it wants to re-request it feel free to do so. Now, I decided to not really do headcanons for this one but I wouldn’t call them oneshots either. They’re more like mini-scenarios. Anyway, with that all out the way please enjoy.

Leonardo

I was just in the lair sharpening my katanas when I noticed Y/N sit down next to me. “Mikey becoming too much for you?” “Nah, I’m just tired and don’t feel like skateboarding right now.” They pulled out their phone and began doing something on it but I couldn’t see what. I decided to just focus on my blades since I was losing concentration. After a moment or two I heard the sweet sound of Y/N laughing and turned to see them smiling at some video. I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger for a moment, they were so pretty and calm I couldn’t look away. Y/N must of realised that I had stopped sharpening my swords since they looked over to me curiously. I immediately fixed my eyes on something away from them but I knew it was too late and I’d already been caught. “You do realise you’re staring at mouldy pizza right?” Yup, caught red handed. “Well I mean mouldy pizza can be interesting. Anything can hold a story. You never know this pizza could’ve been through amazing things, lived an incredible life.” “Ah yes an incredible life of slowly dying on a sewer floor.” We laughed together for a moment before Y/N decided to lie their head on my arm and smiled with their eyes glued to their phone. “You know if want to stare at me you can. I do it to you all the time.” “Heh, thanks… wait what?”

Raphael

I swear sometimes my brothers piss me off too much! It was late in the evening and I was beating up a punching bag to let out my rage. I was so focused on hitting the thing that I didn’t realise Y/N had walked in. They leaned against the wall and just looked at me. I stopped what I was doing and turned to face them. “What is it?” “I was just waiting for you to finish up.” “Why? You want to use it?” “I’d appreciate it.” I smirked and stepped aside as Y/N walked up to the punching bag, this was going to be interesting. I was surprised when they began to land pretty tough punches on it. “Wow, who got you so riled up?” They leaned back and rolled their shoulders. “Just an annoying co-worker, don’t worry about it.” They then threw their jacket onto the floor and continued to beat up the punching bag. As they went at it I kept wanting to look at them, their face and arms, eyes, lips… I shook my head and blinked a bit when I saw Y/N staring right back at me. “Is there something you want to tell me or…?” “Uh I think I hear Donnie calling me, I gotta go.” With that, I ran off. All I could do was hope they didn’t read too much into it.

Donatello

I thought it would just be another long night in the lab. I had been spending the night working on a few adjustments to my computers. Some of them were glitching and one had stopped working completely so I was trying to fix them up asap. I figured I’d be alone the whole night since everyone seemed to have already gone to bed but I was proven wrong when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Agh! Oh Y/N, it’s just you. Wait, Y/N! What are you doing here this late?” “Well I was spending the night studying alone but I got bored, and knowing you I knew you’d still be up and awake in your lab.” “I suppose that makes sense.” I slid my chair to the side slightly and gestured for them to grab the free one I had sitting in the corner. They pulled the chair up next to me and sat down. “Oh, and apologies for not knocking. You didn’t answer before and when I peeked through you seemed so involved in your work that I didn’t want to disturb you too much.” “Not a problem. So, were you wanting to study or join me in my computer repairs.” “I figured I could just study while you do your thing, I was just desperate for some company.” “Understandable. I’ll just get back to this and feel free to ask me if you need any help with your studies.” “Of course. Thank you Donnie.” I grabbed a few of my tools and got back to work as Y/N began researching stuff on their laptop, looking through books and writing notes down. I looked over to them and noticed the way their face scrunched up at certain things, how they seemed so hyper focused on whatever they were typing. They were simply a sight to behold. My thoughts were cut short when Y/N sent me a curious smile. “What?” I figured I must have been staring and gave an awkward laugh, looking away to the computer I was currently fidgeting with. “Nothing.” Soon enough I heard the sound of books closing and felt a heavy weight slump onto my shoulder. “I know I should be heading home right now but I think it’ll be ok if I’m a little late to class tomorrow.” “Goodnight, sleeping beauty.” “Night, turtle boy.”

Michelangelo

I was bored, and I mean really bored. Nothing was happening! Leo and Raph were training together and Donnie was locked up in his lab again. April was busy with Casey, Master Splinter was meditating. I was so close to giving up on everything when a voice filled the air. “Oh guys! Guess what I brought?” I snapped my head around only to find my gorgeous Y/N standing happily with a stack of pizza boxes in their hands. I ran over to them but before I could grab a box they pulled the pizza away from me. “Uh excuse me! You’ll be waiting for your brothers before laying a hand on this pizza.” “Ugh! But everyone else is already busy. I’ll just take a few boxes and be on my way, pretty please?” They gave me a deadpanned look. “Mmm no.” “Well then…” I stepped back and readied myself. “I’ll just have to take it by force.” I lunged at Y/N picking them up and pulling the pizza out of their grasp. “Mikey, put me down!” “Mmm no” “Michelangelo Hamato I swear to god!” They proceeded to grab my face and get close enough to the point their nose touched my snout. “If you don’t put me down safely and hand over that pizza this instant I will beat you up with your own weapons, understood?” I wanted to make some sort of witty comeback but as I looked into their eyes I found myself at a loss for words. I knew they couldn’t really beat me and they knew it too but the determined look on their face was so adorable I wanted to just let them. After a little while I felt something hard flick my forehead. “Ow! What!?” “You zoned out dummy.” “Hey I’m not a dummy! You’re the dummy.” “You sure?” “Uh huh.” “Turn around.” I twisted my head to the side and noticed that all the pizza was gone! I looked back to Y/N only to be met with a fist to the face. But to see their cute face up close it was totally worth it.

I hope this was okay. Again, sorry for not posting in a while. Please have an amazing day/night wherever you are!✨

[absfawn]

Moving to Ao3- yall ruined the tags

This is going to be the only ask i reply to before i turn off my inbox. I do not have the time to deal with the pettiness and childlike behavouiour from any of you.

We didn’t ruin anything for you. We just got sick and fucking tired of the constant, blatant igorance from most of you. We didn’t do anything for you to feel like this. The fact you can sit there, take like 4 seconds to send me this ask, makes me laugh because why is reading any type of fic the first thing on your mind? When you could have spent those seconds spreading awareness and use your platform on the Genocide that is happening right now? We didn’t do anything for you to hate the tag, but there comes a point where people get tired of people acting like they are better than others. We shouldn’t have to call out other blogs for being silent, but it’s come to that. Posting, reblogging a constant stream of fics? DURING a global strike that HAS been spoken about since LAST month? You’re for real going to sit there and tell me, you DIDN’T Know? Get out. 

Innocent children, women, men, even animals are being murdered every single fucking day. They are being taken away from their families, some don’t even have one anymore, each fucking day, more than you can imagine and you’re going to have the BALLS to come into my inbox and fucking tell me we’ve ruined the tag? If half of you didn’t ignore the strike or post during it, we wouldn’t have had to call most of you out. Also, who the fuck cares about the tag? I haven’t been in any tags apart from the Palestine tags for months. In tags where you should be. Spreading awareness. 

Coming to a blog, that has stated multiple times that i will only be posting about Palestine, to tell me we’ve ruined the tags for you. Get a fucking life. I’m sorry that you’ve come to the conclusion that smut intake and fic intake are the only things you truly give a shit about. Just to be clear, if that’s all you care about. Never come to my blog again.

I truly thought people would have gotten together and tried to help people who really fucking need it right now. I thought blogs and platforms could come together and help in anyway we can, but half the time, you fucking prove time and time again, that half of you don’t care. And that’s fucking disgusting. 

I’m done with people who don’t care.

Unfollow me, block me, but i don’t want Zionists on my blog.

FREE PALESTINE

PALESTINE MASTERPOST | HOW TO HELP | DONATE TO PALESTINE | BOYCOTT | DO NOT BUY TLOU2 REMASTERED

[muffinpink02]

Woah woah woah, I saw your post with the other stories your writing. What and who are the other stories about?when will they be released? i love all your works, especially the Alexia ones!

Okay, this is my WIP’s

You Taste Like Vanilla - ft Jenni & reader - Summary - You piss off Jenni, so she takes it out on you in smut. Half way to finishing. Smut 18

Queen Of Hearts - ft Alexia & reader, Ingrid, Mapi, Lucy, Ona - Summary - it's 1700’s times (think game of thrones)  you’re a princess, Ingrid's your bestie. Alexia is a spanish acquaintance, (also a royal)  she's a bit of a player but you want her, she maybe wants you and lots of drama. I've started it but it might be a big story so it will take me a while. Smut 18 

Bronze is better than gold - if you know, you know. smut 18 

Taking your crown part 2 - Summary - reader goes to Barcelona, meets Alexia and….I don't want to give too much away. Got a bit of this done, just under half way. Smut 18 

Coffee** shop - ft  Mapi & reader - Summary - You get a job with Mapi, she's a big flirt, your current partner is a dick, does Mapi sway your mind? Some appearances from the Barca girls. Got a lot done but a lot more to go. Smut 18 

Cancellation - ft Mapi & reader - Summary - you and Mapi make a double booking for a cabin. Smut 18 halfway finished.

Hands - Alexia & reader - Summary - not much, just you loving Alexia's hand and what she does with them. Smut 18. Nearly done 

Baby Putellas - Alexia & reader - Summary - reader is pregnant, Alexia is protective, cute and all that fluff. It's more me trying to work on my fluff. No smut. Nearly done. 

Truth Or Dare - reader and barca girls, but mostly Alexia - only got the title but smut 18 

Paddle Board - anon request - nearly done! may be out today tomorrow, maybe a day later... smut 18

Stories I havent started but will…

Like a Virgin part 2 

Guess who part 2 

It's not what you know, it's who you know part 2 

My request - I have a request in my inbox that i really want to do (Lucy and reader captain armband) I love it and I really want to do it, but I know I’m taking a long time so please let me know if you want to ask someone else, I won't be annoyed! 

The request for Lucy and Alexia - (champions league final one, Lucy under pressure) again love it, may actually start this one soon, because i'm a slag for these two women and really want to try to do these two sooner than later. 

I have another request in my inbox Lucy and reader (black slit dress) again really want to do this, I could maybe be quicker with this one but not sure when i'll start, but again if you can't wait and want to ask someone else let me know.

With request I wont know when I can get these done, as you can see I’m a bit of a serial jumper to different stories. So for now I can't promise to get any future requests done. But feel free to jump in my asks, sometimes it helps me when I see a new story. Also guys I'm a slow writer, I don’t like rushing, and when I do I never like the end product so please bear with me.

And also thank you for all the love on here, I love hearing what you guys have to say, always feel free to jump in for a chat or any questions,

[shxtodxroki]

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚘 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝙱𝚢 𝙳𝚘𝚍𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜

Summary: How do the Karasuno boys react when their s/o decides to prank them by purposefully dodging their kisses?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Yu Nishinoya, Asahi Azumane, Koshi Sugawara, Daichi Sawamura

Word Count: 3.1k

You can find a My Hero Academia version of these headcanons here if you're interested! Also, this is my first Haikyuu post and I only have 1 other Haikyuu request sitting in my inbox, so feel free to send in Haikyuu requests if you have any! :)

♡ Shoyo Hinata ♡

- Shoyo’s very relaxed whenever you’re around, he’s just so content and happy whenever it comes to you that the thought of you pulling something like this would never even cross his mind, so it’s really easy to prank him and get a funny reaction from your adorably hyper boyfriend

- Oooooh Shoyo is not happy when you pull a prank like this, he loves his kisses, especially after a long day and he won’t appreciate you hiding away from them >:(

- It’s a habit in your relationship for you and Shoyo to meet up after your last class of the day, allowing you to walk him to practice after school and sometimes even stay to watch if you have nothing else going on that day, so you knew this would be the best time for you to try out this little prank >:)

- Of course you greet your boyfriend just like you typically would, wrapping him up in a warm hug before interlacing your fingers with his as he starts chatting with you about his day and the two of you make your way to the practice area so as not to arise any suspicion from him

- And of course Shoyo in none the wiser, excitedly swinging your connected hands back and forth between the two of you as he tells you about the awesome grade he got on his biology test and looks at you expectantly for your response

- “That’s great, Shoyo! I’m so proud of you, I told you that all the studying you did would pay off. I know it was exhausting trying to balance studying and practice, but I knew you could do it.” You smile as you praise your boyfriend, heart melting at the way he beams in response to your words

- But when he leans in for a kiss to celebrate his good grade, you know it’s time to put the prank into action, so you step to the side and watch in horror as your boyfriend faceplants directly onto the sidewalk in front of you, kissing the pavement as he scrambles to pull himself up

- “...What was that for?” Shoyo exclaims after a minute, frowning at you and pointing to where he had just fallen face-first for emphasis. His grumpy, pouty face was positively adorable, and it caused you to immediately lose your resolve as you started laughing and moved to hug your boyfriend in apology

- “I’m so sorry babe, I was just messing with you. Come here, let me make it up to you.” You laugh as you apologize to him, leaning in to kiss the pout off of his face as Shoyo wraps his arms around you tightly

- “I expect at least 10 more kisses from you as an apology for making me fall on my face and embarrass myself, you know.” He responds, and the wide grin on his face when you award him his promised kisses and then some causes your heart to bubble in admiration for the boy, smiling at him and promising to never pull a prank like this again as you finally resume walking him to practice

♡ Tobio Kageyama ♡

- This kind of prank honestly just confuses poor Tobio, he doesn’t really get that it’s a prank at it just leaves him confused, grumpy and needy for your affection :/

- He’s very easy to prank, but also so oblivious that you’d literally have to spell out that it was a prank in order for him to understand. So you know that you’re probably going to regret doing this to him, but you just have to satisfy your curiosity and see for certain how he’ll react

- So you decide to put your plan into action one day after practice, giggling in anticipation as your boyfriend swiftly makes his way from the court over to your side as he reaches out to grab his water bottle from your hand

- “Thank you, Y/n.” he says, gulping down the water before handing the bottle back to you, moving to grab your hand and squeeze it as his silent show of appreciation and affection for you

- “Of course, babe. You’re doing amazing today, always make me so proud.” You praise your boyfriend, watching his cheeks get dusted with a light pink hue as he smiles shyly at you. Usually Tobio wasn’t very big on PDA, but complimenting him after a game or practice was always the best way to get a kiss out of him, and you took advantage of that knowledge in order to put your prank into place

- “Why did you do that?” He asks simply, putting his hand up to smell his breath as he asks. “I think my breath smells fine… is it because I’m too sweaty? That’s never seemed to bother you before though…” Tobio searches for a reason to your sudden odd behavior, pouting as he waits for you to answer him

- And your adorable boyfriend fell right into your trap, leaning in and closing his eyes in hopes of pressing a quick peck to your cheek, only for his lips to meet nothing but air

- Confused, Tobio quickly pulled back to look at you questioningly, debating why you had avoided his kiss in his mind as he gazed intently at you

- “What do you mean, babe? I didn’t do anything!” You respond just to mess with him, biting back a smirk as his pout turns into a small scowl and he grows even more confused and frustrated

- As he continues to ask you why you’re doing this to him you decide to finally give in, giggling and leaning in to give your boyfriend his long-awaited peck as you fluster him with the sudden contact and leave him more confused than ever at your sudden switch-up

- “Yes you did, I tried to kiss you and you moved away!” He responds, wrapping his arms around you as he stares into your eyes, searching for an explanation. “...Did I make you mad or something? I don’t think I did anything to upset you, but if I did, I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it.”

- “I was just messing with you, Tobio. You looked so cute, all confused and pouty.” You respond as you press another kiss to your boyfriend’s nose, giggling again as he grumbles about how he’s not “cute” but still allows you to fawn over him because secretly, he really likes it <3

♡ Yu Nishinoya ♡

- Oh I just know that he would hate this prank the most out of all the boys, Noya thrives off of your kisses and it is downright cruel in his eyes to deprive him of them :’(

- His feelings are hurt, his day is ruined, it's the whole 9 yards of dramatics with this man when you pull a prank like this on him lol so make sure you know what you’re getting into when you decide to do this

- You decide to pull this prank in the privacy of your own home after school while helping Noya study, since you know that if you did this in front of anyone else, he’d only get more upset. At least when it’s just the two of you, you’re the only one who will have to witness his whining, so you opt for privacy when pulling this prank on your incredibly needy boyfriend

- It works and it gets your boyfriend motivated enough to actually try when studying, though, so you’ll take it!

- You see, the two of you have developed a system when it comes to studying, because it can be… difficult to get Noya motivated to actually sit down and study

- So when you both have time, you review questions with him, and reward each correct answer with a kiss like the cheesy couple you are

- Unfortunately, though, you have to momentarily throw a wrench into this system in order to follow through with this prank

- So when you nod approvingly at your boyfriend’s correct answer to the last question you asked him and you see the bright grin spread across his face as his arms immediately reach out for you, you steel yourself and force your head to turn away from his eager kiss

- And of course, Noya immediately freezes when his lips meet your cheek rather than your lips like he was expecting, taking a moment to process before pulling back, frowning and giving you the most wounded look you’ve ever seen from your typically bright, energetic boyfriend

- “Baaaabe, why would you do that to me?!” He immediately starts whining, arms wrapping around you as he buries his face in your chest with his lips still stuck in a pout

- “Oh my god you big baby, you’re so dramatic.” You tease him for just a moment longer before you’re willing to give in, a mischievous smirk across your face as you playfully try to push him away, only for his grip to tighten and cause giggles to erupt out of your throat

- “Why don’t you love me anymore? Why are you ignoring my affection when I studied so hard for you? I earned that kiss, baby!” He whines even louder now, arms digging into your sides to tickle you and forcing allowing you to finally cave

- “Noya, stop! Fine, I’ll give you what you want so badly.” You manage to break free of his tickles long enough to press a chaste kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, smile growing wider when he leans in once more to reclaim your lips with his own as his way of making up for your earlier lack of kisses >:)

♡ Asahi Azumane ♡

- Genuinely why would you ever do this to him :( Asahi’s such a sweet boy and he loves your kisses so much, this is so cruel!

- Okay in all honesty, it would probably be incredibly easy to do a prank like this on Asahi, he’s very unguarded when it comes to you, so he’ll never see it coming and his constant kisses leave you with a plethora of opportunities to pull a prank like this

- And because he’s so sweet and sensitive and would never suspect this from you, you know his reaction will be golden, and it’s an innocent enough prank that you’re willing to go through with it just to see his reaction

- You decided to pull this on him right after a long day of practice, since you know that’s the time where he’s the most needy for your kisses, praise and affection

- You, being the wonderful s/o that you are, meet your boyfriend for the last 30 minutes or so of his practice, proudly cheering him on from the sidelines and bragging to the few people not playing at the moment about how proud you are of your amazing boyfriend

- And once practice ends, you can see a red tint on his face as he smiles gratefully at you, hastily making his way to you with his arms wide open in a hug that you know will be accompanied by a chaste peck, just a small kiss so that he wouldn’t get teased too badly over showing PDA in front of his team mates

- But poor, poor Asahi was left incredibly confused when you turned your face away from his kiss, instead opting to turn so his lips landed right on the side of your head

- You hear Suga and Daichi immediately burst into laughter upon seeing your denial of your boyfriend’s affections, already feeling guilty over the teasing he would inevitably endure over this but forcing yourself to follow through with the prank for a little longer despite the pouty look worn across your adorable boyfriend’s face

- “...You’re kinda sweaty babe, sorry.” You tried to force a grimace to add to the prank, but the way Daichi and Suga absolutely fell apart at your comment convinced you that it was already time to give this up and put your poor boyfriend’s mind at ease as he looked down in shame at your words

- Poor Asahi's face was absolutely flushed with red upon hearing what you had said and the laughs of his team mates, though, mouth falling open as he floundered to find any words to apologize in that moment

- Before he could let out the embarrassed apology that was on the tip of his lips/ hiwever/ you reached out to cradle his large frame in your arms, reassuring him that you were just pranking him loud enough that his teammates would hear as you pressed kisses across his face to apologize for your actions

- Your PDA only made him blush more, and his teammates would never let him forget this moment, but his pout immediately disappeared and was replaced with a shy smile as he muttered an “It’s okay, angel” and hugged you back tightly, just happy to be able to kiss you again <3

♡ Koshi Sugawara ♡

- I can definitely see Suga being just a bit of a little shit to you when you pull stuff like this, in all honesty

- 99% of the time, Koshi's your adorable, incredibly sweet and loving boyfriend who would never dream of messing with you or being upset with you

- But that 1% of the time, when he’s in a particular mood and you try to pull a prank like this on him?

- Oh, he’d definitely mess with you just a bit in return to get you back >:)

- You and Koshi decided to have a cute little date night at his house, as you both have the weekend to relax and spend time together :)

- And whenever you two have date nights, one of your favorite activities to do together is cooking dinner with each other, taste testing each part of your chosen dish and working together to create a meal you’ll both enjoy

- Tonight the two of you are cooking your favorite meal, as Suga wanted to celebrate the high score you got on your recent math test and reward you for all your hard work like the wonderful, caring boyfriend he is :>

- And of course you, the sneaky little menace you are, have to repay your boyfriend’s kindness with a prank, just to mess with him a little

- So when Suga gently prods at your lips with a spoon, silently asking you to taste test a part of the dish, you immediately know what he’s up to, putting the spoon in your mouth and nodding encouragingly at him to show him that it tasted good as you wait for him to follow his predictable pattern he always fell into in moments like these

- And he does, smiling back at you before immediately leaning in to replace the spoon with his lips and capture your mouth in a sweet kiss

- Except this time you lean away from his kiss, giggling as his kiss lands on your chin and he pulls back, frowning at you

- And, while Suga immediately knew this was a prank, he was also quite the actor when he wanted to be, so he decided to get you back a little bit after he kindly made your favorite meal with you and you chose to rekay him with a prank and withholding your affections

- “Sweetie, it was just a prank, I’m so sorry.” You apologize immediately, holding your boyfriend tighter out of guilt. “Of course I still love you, I didn’t mean it. It was just a dumb prank.” You promise, only to be caught off guard when you suddenly hear your boyfriend giggling with his head tucked into your chest, giving you a shit-eating grin and making it clear that he had actually gotten you

- Suga gave you the most genuine pout you had ever seen, eyes welling up with crocodile tears and causing the smile to immediately fall off of your face as he backed away from you, feigning hurt and heartbreak

' “Babe… do you… do you not love me any more? Why would you… why would you avoid my kiss?” He asks, so quietly that it seems like his heart is breaking and you immediately scoop your boyfriend up in your arms to reassure him with a gentle hug and kisses pressed all over his face

- So yeah, it’s probably best not to mess with your endearing, doting boyfriend, because he can and will switch up entirely and find a way to get you back for trying to mess with him like this >:)

♡ Daichi Sawamura ♡

- Honestly, I feel like Daichi will be able to tell that you’re up to something before you even pull this prank, and while he’s not gonna be as dramatic about it as some of the others, he’s still not gonna be happy about it and he’s gonna make sure you know that lol

- I can see him approaching this kinda similarly to Suga, but he wants to give you a taste of your own medicine so he’ll be a bit more direct with his actions

- Daichi was always kind enough to walk you home whenever you stayed after school to watch him practice and support him, he insisted that he had to make sure his wonderful partner always made it home safe and he always kept your hand tightly clasped in his as you walked home together and chatted about whatever came to mind

- Today, though, your typically peaceful, relaxing walk with your boyfriend was going to take a mischievous turn, a sneaky grin plastered across your face as you began your prank

- Daichi, ever the observant and attentive boyfriend, had unfortunately already noticed something was up with you, though. He saw the way you were nervously fidgeting with your hands as you walked, and the way you sported the grin he only ever saw when you were up to something, but he decided to feign ignorance for now just to see what you would do

- “Honestly, I’m feeling really good about tomorrow’s game. We’ve been working really hard recently, and I think we have it in the bag.” Daichi wrapped up what he had been saying, looking over and smiling at you as he wrapped an arm swiftly around your shoulders and waited to hear your thoughts on their chances in tomorrow’s game

- “Of course you guys do, babe. I can’t wait to watch you absolutely crush them tomorrow, I don’t doubt you guys at all.” You reassured him, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand and giggling as he leaned in to kiss you in response to your encouragement, immediately moving your head so his lips met nothing but air

- When Daichi realized what you had done, he paused for a moment, eyes opening slowly and glancing at you before giving you a sneaky smirk of his own and turning to walk away from you “Fine, be like that. I see my own girlfriend doesn’t love me anymore.”

- Your jaw immediately fell open at his words, frowning at how quickly he had turned your own prank back around on you and chasing after your boyfriend, attempting to press an apology kiss to his cheek and pouting when he moved his head away

- “Babe, don’t be like that!” You whined, wrapping your arms around him and forcing him to stop walking as you held his face in your hands. “It was a dumb prank, I’m sorry, now please let me kiss you to make up for it.”

- Daichi contemplated making you squirm for a bit longer, but eventually decided to give in this time, leaning in and letting you press a sweet kiss to his lips as he smiled contently

- His arms wrapped around your waist to kiss you back, smirking at how he always won in moment like these even when you tried to mess with him

A/N: Hi everyone, I’m super excited to make my first post for Haikyuu! I’ll admit that I’m not super far into the show yet, I’ve only just made it through season 1 so I apologize if the characters don’t feel as accurately represented, but I tried my hardest to make their depictions as accurate as possible! :) I chose the team members who I’m personally more drawn to to start off with, but as of now, you’re free to request for any characters in the anime, so feel free to send in a request if you have one and it’ll be added to my Haikyuu request list asap! :D

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

Hey everyone, dunno how long this might be, kind of doing a stream of consciousness style ramble about TNTF and me and stuff :)

alright so, tntf is getting a huge rework, this is my first if game ever, the coding is a little overwhelming, i know it’s fairly simple but it’s A LOT.

the reason i’ve been pretty quiet is mostly due to burnout, as some of you know i have health issues, i have crohns disease, i’m also autistic with adhd—something i love about this community is the understanding and acceptance for people/authors like me who may want to write but are just too stuck to be able to do it.

i know everyone is so jazzed for the next update, and i am too, there’s a few changes i’m making in regards to the technical aspects of the story, i’m removing stats, for the MC and for relationships. part of it is… i’m not a numbers person, trying to balance out the stats going up and down is a pain when this is planned to be a pretty damn long story. i also just don’t like it for my story personally, i don’t want you, as the player to feel like you have to game-ify personality or relationships.

this also opens the option for me to write more player responses to situations without having all of that annoying code in my brain~ MORE FLAVOR!

My writing has also vastly improved when it comes to fiction, a lot because i have been practicing so much while i’ve been sick (i’ve been playing with and writing AI chatbots on Janitor.AI, learning how to create a complex and realistic personality, an engaging character and world.) It’s been useful as a stress reliever and as a tool to help me write better, more descriptive etc.

on that note, smut in my game is also a very yes, i feel much more comfortable writing it now… heh.

i’ve also decided that all of my books are going to remain free, tntf was a planned three book series, it may just be one or two HUGE books, we’re going to have to see what i, and twine are capable of. but the story is going to span four countries and two continents of the world, so yeah.

the new rewrite is also going to slow things down considerably, because now we’ll have MC on a ship for four months as the intro, then meeting maddock and spending <insert amount of time here> with him while traveling to that little inn. it also gives me more room to introduce the characters a lot earlier but in their own POVs and not just while they’re with MC. i want the world to feel alive.

my decision to make and keep tntf free is because i want to.

i would not appreciate minors interacting with my content, but i also grew up with the internet, i know that no matter how much prevention we put in, minors are going to access our content regardless if it’s free or not. i just ask that if you are a minor and reading adult fiction, please don’t comment, dm or whatever, this is for your safety in the community as well as, i don’t want to deal with other people’s children on the internet, it’s nothing against any of ya’ll, you’re awesome, children are great but i’m almost 26, i really don’t want to deal with kids in what’s pretty much an adult space (i haven’t really seen books catered to the younger than 18 crowd, but like i’m saying, i’m more interested in forging connections with the adult community here, considering i am one, lmao *bats children away with pool noodles*)

i think that’s it

i might post more stuff but that’s my general direction

also to the asks in my inbox from last year on my birthday and forward… I READ THEM ALL AND APPRECIATE EVERY WELL WISH AND FEEDBACK, GENUINELY. i’m just bad at social media.