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lovebugism · 9 months ago

Note

What if reader's friends convince her to go on a date with another guy, and this guy is an absolute jerk? I think reader would call Eddie and ask her to come pick her up - why is every guy an asshole? Except Eddie of course 🖤

ty for requesting :D — grumpy!eddie rescues you from a bad date then offers to take you on a better one (friends to lovers, hurt/comfort ish | 1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The sunset matches the color of your Slurpee. A fiery red and orange hue, like the mango and strawberry concoction in your cup. You sip from the plastic straw and pretend to taste the sky in your mouth — pretending not to notice the pounding bass of Eddie’s van as he peals into the parking lot.

You sit on the curb and keep your eyes trained on the cracked pavement under your feet. All cool. Like you hadn’t called him for help at all.

“You could’ve been more specific about where you were, you know?” Eddie shouts, punctuating his question with the slam of the car door. His worn sneakers scuff the concrete with each of his rushed strides. You’d almost think he was actually worried about you.

“I told you I was at the payphone by the Seven-Eleven,” you shrug, tilting your chin to look up at the boy when he stands ahead of you.

“There’s four of those,” he argues, with his lanky figure looming over you. He pushes his leather jacket off his sides (which he wears in spite of the summer heat) to put his hands on his hips. “Seriously. I counted ‘em all in the half hour it took me to find you.”

You squint up at him, hardly apologetic after the shit day you’ve had. “Well, sorry for not being more clear,” you spit in a cynical monotone.

“Apology accepted,” Eddie shrugs. He huffs and sits on the curb next to you while you slurp audibly at the slushie in your fist. He leans over to knock your shoulders with his. “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Figured… Can I have some, at least?”

He’s only partly surprised when you hand over the drink without protest. He takes it in his ringed fist, looks inside to observe its content, then sips at the red straw (trying to ignore the nagging thought that your lips have been where his are now). The strawberry-mango mixture melts quickly on his tongue, foreign and sweet. “’S nice.”

You scoff like you’re owed the compliment. “Right? I let Josh try some earlier, and he said it tasted like shit. I was like, you know what, this is my final fucking straw.”

Eddie’s face screws. He wipes dramatically at his mouth with the back of his hand, hopelessly trying to erase the other asshole’s DNA. “Are you serious?” he mumbles, all annoyed ‘cause you hadn’t thought to warn him beforehand. You don’t seem to understand his meaning, though, as you shrug lazily in response.

“Well, him trying to feel me up in his car was my actual final straw. But then he hated my all-time favorite Slurpee, and I didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I just told him to leave me here.”

The only thing Eddie hates more than putting his mouth where Josh’s has been — other than the thought of Josh taking you on a date at all — is the idea of Josh not treating you right. His chest burns with a withheld rage.

“Are you talking about fucking Josh O.?” he scoffs and passes the styrofoam cup back to you. “Like, the moron from Mr. Mundy’s, Josh O.? That’s who Steve set you up with?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble and take another sip, more casual about the subtle spit-swapping than the boy beside you had been.

“He was basically setting you up for failure, then. You know that, right?”

“I just wanted a free meal,” you confess quietly.

Eddie squints. His eyes flit from your profile, to your fidgeting hand punching holes in the ice with your straw, and back to your profile again. “Well, did you get one?”

“Yep. We split one burger at the diner.”

A laugh sputters from his pink mouth.

Your head whips to glare at him. “It’s not funny.”

Eddie props his elbow on his knee to hide his smile behind his ringed hand. “I mean… It kinda is, though. ‘Cause even I could buy two meals for us, and I’m basically the brokest fucker in this town.”

“Are you offering?”

His brows pinch. “Offering what?”

“To buy me a burger,” you say in a mousy voice, pretending to be innocent as you peer at him beneath your lashes, all doe-eyed.

“What?” Eddie scoffs through the sparkling in his chest. As a self-proclaimed metalhead, there was absolutely nothing metal about confessing to stupid crushes. “No.”

“Well, it sounds a lot like you’re offering,” you tease before wrapping your lips around the straw of your drink.

“Well, this sounds a lot like talking for someone who doesn’t wanna talk about it,” he mocks.

Your eyes narrow in annoyance. You part from your Slurpee and mumble through the ice on your tongue. “I wasted my quarters on you,” you deadpan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. He rises from the curb with a huff, wincing at the distant ache in his long legs. “C’mon, weirdo. Let’s go,” he urges, towering over you again.

You shake your head, gaze averted, suddenly shy. “I’m okay here.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m serious, Eds. I don’t feel like going home right now—”

“I’m not taking you home,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. Your eyes flit back to his, suddenly hopeful again, and he tries not to cower. “I’m taking you to the diner. So I can get you a real meal.”

You seem particularly moved by the uncharacteristic act of kindness. “Really?”

“Yes, really— I don’t want you to starve to death,” he grouses, feigning annoyance ‘cause it’s easier than facing his real feelings in the face. “Now, let’s go before I change my mind.”

He walks off ahead of you on long legs, leaving you behind to catch up. But, because he isn’t a total asshole, he opens the squeaking passenger side door for you.

“Can I get a milkshake, too?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, helping yourself onto the cracked pleather seat.

“Don’t push it,” Eddie squints. He goes to shut the door, then catches the pretty pout pinching your features. “Fine,” he groans before slamming it shut.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: summer fic fest '24

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wonryllis · 5 months ago

Text

✶ I'LL WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE 、park sunghoon.

( now playing ) i don't wanna live forever : i just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home.

FEATURING 𑁍 。 neighbour!sunghoon in the quiet beach town you moved to spend the summer before your residency starts. away from the pressure of the fast moving world, you find peace in his cliche little adventures and unaccounted flirting. loosely based off the movie 'float'. ( archive? )

GENRE & WARNINGS 𑁍 。 "he's super hot, so why not" trope, suggestive! making out kinda pg filtered, fluff, slight angst but ultimately a happy ending. WORDCOUNT — 2200 dot.

╱╱ NIE NOTES, strongly recommend listening to the song!! draft from march >< i hope y'all enjoy it!! & if you do please leave comments & feedbacks it keeps me going! & lastly please reblog!!

SUNGHOON WONDERS IF YOU WERE DESTINED TO FIND HIM IN THAT LITTLE ISLAND HIDDEN AWAY FROM THE WORLD.

"just jump baby, i'll catch you," sunghoon reassures you for the umpteenth time, extending his hands out as he convinces you to jump from your balcony to his. there's hardly much space inbetween yet you're scared, you've never done this before. and you've never felt this way before.

fear and feelings spinning in the air it's like a coming of age movie, a step into adulthood, a plethora of things you have never experienced and a guy you have grown the hots for, to spice it all up.

"trust me, i won't let you fall," his voice is soft and encouraging, albeit a little flirty.

you could walk up to his door at three in the morning and it wouldn't be a problem. no longer teenagers having secret rendezvous, but sunghoon insists on it being this way�� because it's fun, because you are here to have fun, and because he's promised to be the one to bring you fun.

the town of st george was quiet, peaceful and mellow, more welcoming than the bustling streets of toronto where the life of your dreams awaited you. every breeze carried the smell of the ocean, tingling your scent glands with each breath you took. it was refreshing and cozy, it felt more home than your home had ever felt. like a calling of the unknown, it felt right to be there, like everything you had ever needed. a break from med school, and a hot neighbour right beside, your balconies barely you two feet away.

since you first arrived at the town, unsure of your decision to ditch your routine life and the prestigious summer internship, every moment felt like a battle against your morals. but when you looked out the window of your aunt's spare room, gazing over the tiny houses and backyards filled with so many stories, spending a few days without a plan seemed a tad bit more tempting than having to brood over the fact that you weren't supposed to be there.

park sunghoon was one of the first people you noticed there. dressed in a tank top, engine oil smeared all over as he fixed his car, in the rusty backyard you could see from the bedroom window. sweaty and sexy, buff and messily pretty, he looked young: made you wonder of his reasons to stay in a town where the average age had to have been at least forty. filled with people who sought refuge and people who looked for solitude, it was not a place for someone with big aspirations and dreams.

someone much like you.

"see it wasn't that hard," sunghoon whispers, arms holding you against him as you carefully place your feet onto his marbled balcony floor, cozy little plants adorning the corners.

he smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and carressing your cheeks tenderly. you recall the time you were in the pool together, him teaching you how to swim, holding your hands as you paddled for the first time after an entire month of floating and kicking your feet by the side lessons.

feeling the water splash against your skin, feeling his own skin against yours and feeling your breaths mingle into one another as you made out right after. see it wasn't that hard, his words grazing against your lips.

it felt surreal. like you were doing the right thing. like you were right where you were meant to be.

the little bouts of uneasiness of constantly lying to your parents about your whereabouts and your intership, slowly seemed to slip away everytime you were with him.

you never realized how beautiful life was, how beautiful it was to just be happy and do what you feel like in the moment. and being with him taught you just that. he gave you courage to do what you wanted, the courage to face your troubles and the courage to find what made you happy.

“do you wanna go downstairs? i’ll make us lunch—”

“i just really wanna kiss you right now,” sunghoon's words die down in his throat when you throw your hands around his neck, looping them as you get on your tippy toes to press your lips into his.

the arms around your waist tighten and he immediately reciprocates the kiss, moving his lips against yours, slowly at first. savoring the taste of mangoes you just had together less than an hour ago. lazy licks and prolonged nibbles.

you body pushes foward against his, hands moving to the back of your thighs to pull you onto him as his knees hit the edge of his bed. kiss breaking for a split moment when you plop down on the mattress. foreheads touching and gasping for a long breath before diving right back into the kiss.

this time one of his hands grip the back of your head forcing you closer while your hands busy themselves in pushing under his shirt. gliding from his abs to his chest and then attempting to pull it off of him.

“shit baby, my sister's just downstairs—” sunghoon groans, pulling away in a haste to look into your eyes, feeling crazed at the way you seem to crave him. your warm skin brushing against him, the heat radiating through the pants. body pressing into him in all the right ways— wrong ways considering the situation.

“just a little longer please,” you reach forward, grabbing his face and mumbling against his lips before kissing him again. it is like a new found addiction, like a sparkle in a barren dystopia: intense, morish and the grief of having to leave it all behind. despite the obvious desire rolling off your tongue into his, sunghoon can feel the desperation of the situation where time in your hands stands limited.

where love stands limited and where life, stands apart.

goals ingrained in a space between choices that stand at odds, clashing against everything you have ever known, everything you have ever wanted to know.

there's a longing in the kiss you both are hesitant to address, the inevitable waiting for you at the end of the summer. “you are irresistible,” he pants into your mouth, fingers tracing shapes and squeezing the flesh of your thighs. pausing for a brief second and then leaning back in to press a couple more kisses. eyes closed, holding you in a tight hug after. one that sends your heartbeat to him and his to yours like a sync of feelings deep within your souls.

his thumb comes up to skim against your swollen lips as he mumbles,”i wish we met sooner,” biting the inside of his cheek at thought of you no longer being here by the end of the week. it is gonna be one hell of a hell to get back to a life without you. and as selfish as he wants to be, hoping to convince you to stay, sunghoon knows it is not right.

because unlike him, there is a whole different world waiting for you, outside this little island.

“me too.” the chirping of the birds reaches your ears, echoing in the silence of the room, piercing through the barely audible breathing. something that should only seem to calm you but now that you think of it, every place you would hear it, the sound of sunghoon's raspy voice wishing to have met you sooner would ring at the back of your mind.

from meeting the chickens he raised in his backyard to the story of his unavoidable choice to stay. from his lifeguard job at the beach to his early morning swimming lessons at the resident school pool. from helping him clean his old second hand car to kisses in his bedroom after a swim lesson. your summer was filled with things you never imagined to have experienced. a summer filled with genuine feelings. a place filled with happy memories.

a collision of paths so utterly different from one another, a fate weaved to happen: perhaps you and sunghoon were set to walk together, alongside, hand in hand. but perhaps it was just not the time yet.

there were things you wanted to achieve and places you wanted to be at. for now you would only wait with the hope of meeting him next summer.

“i'll come back, next summer,” you whisper, eyes locked with his, the sunlight from the balcony shining against his brown orbs,”i'll wait for you,” he smiles, holding you tighter.

YOU WONDER IF SUNGHOON WAS DESTINED TO MAKE YOU LOVE THIS LIFE, AWAY FROM YOUR PICTURE PERFECT ONE.

“yellow looks beautiful on you,” you are startled by the brush of sunghoon's lips against your earlobe, feeling his breath graze past your cheeks as he mutters, tone soft yet flirty.

you turn around to face him in a giggle, flustered still, even after all the flirting you went through all along summer. your eyes casting down to look at the flowy swimsuit hugging your body, embarrassment and confidence both tug at your heart.

“and the wet look, suits you,” a teasing gaze moves to scan him, arching your brows as you take in the exposed arms,”so well,” he is dressed in his usual tank top and shorts, albeit wet from what you assume, probably one of his lifeguard saves. skin tanned and shining, water dripping down his hair while he looks at you with squinted eyes..a hypnotic look that holds you back from breaking the eye contact.

“can’t believe you are in front of me right now,” he breathes out, taking a step closer in the sand, chest almost touching yours.

“can't believe it either. it's been a year,” your words tune out in a whisper, like a breeze along the shore, one that held so many hopes.

sunghoon's leans forward, his forehead resting against yours as he a mumbles a barely audible ‘yeah’. hands hesitantly coming up to hold your waist and then looping around in a firm grip.

yellow.

sunghoon spent the entire year looking longingly at all the yellows, yearning to catch a glimpse of you in every corner of the town you had been with him. watching the leaves fall in your aunt’s backyard while stealing glimpses at the window you used to stare at him through. the mango trees right across the road, reminding him of the taste of you, lingering at the back of his throat.

it was hard when everywhere he went he could only picture you by his side. it feels unreal to have you in his arms now, to think that once again, summer had come, and with it, it brought you.

perhaps it is love, that makes him crave you. he ponders, watching the sparkles of summer sun in your pretty and addicting eyes. wondering how he was able to survive a year without looking into them and feeling like you'll suck him in. no he has fallen in love, he concludes.

“you came to watch me flex my muscles, didn't you?” sunghoon asks, playing with the ends of your dyed hair, that looked shorter than he remembered. a sly smirk spreading across his lips, before he ducks down to nuzzle into your neck, leaving little open mouthed kisses against your exposed skin.

“you know i love it,” you tease, breath getting heavier and as his kisses get harsher.

“oh yeah? let's see if you actually know how to swim or you were just oogling me last summer,” your beach bag drops to the sand as sunghoon's arms hook behind your knees and he hauls you up in the air, throwing your body over his shoulder as he runs for the water.

tackling you into the waves, twirling you around and kisses along your face. so many unsaid words growing into emotions. squeals and giggles. a moment where you are in the moment, a moment where you are in love.

the bustling city of toronto housed the future you worked hard for, it kept you busy, it kept you passionate. your big aspirations and dreams, everything you had ever wanted, it held them all. you thought maybe, once you return to the life you knew, you'd eventually forget about this silly little island, and your silly little summer fling. you'd move on and chase the goals that had always defined you.

however, it seemed you failed to realize, that perhaps this was not what you wanted but what you needed and it did not have to define you. it could just be that: a silly little place that made you happy.

the town of st geroge was not a place for someone with big aspirations and dreams, someone much like you. but someone much like you was capable of falling in love with a place like that; and you did. you fell in love with that place. and you fell in love with park sunghoon.

TAGLIST ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

#enhypen imagines #SUMMER FLING WITH HOT LIFEGUARD SUNGHOON >< lets gaur!#enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon drabbles #enha imagines #enha drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen angst

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pandapetals · 7 months ago

Text

Masterlist for Logan Howlett

DO NOT copy, reupload, translate, or steal my work. 18+ only, MINORS DNI!

read on ao3

these are all of my works for logan howlett. it includes a mix of fluff, angst and occasional smut. not all of my works are listed as apparently tumblr has a limit on posts. so...maybe check out my ao3. each section is labeled below.

fics ⤦

shadows of the past

the whispers at howlett manor

the edge of safety

sanctuary

logantober 2024 ⤦

masterlist

loganxmas 2024 ⤦

professor logan masterlist

last christmas

gift wrapped

requests ⤦

misunderstandings

i'm not going anywhere

kisses

boxing lesson

the bar

too sweet

protector

adhd

the vow

back off

smut one-shots ⤦

pony

sexting

faking it

connected one-shots ⤦

70s logan x fem!reader ⤦

electric fever

tennessee whiskey

professor logan x professor fem!reader ⤦

already yours

late night

love poem

office door notes

first-day jitters

trivia night

debate

first impression

confessions

first date

happy birthday

nightmares

bedtime stories

the proposal

the wedding

grading papers

reminisce

faculty meeting shenanigans

the beach

camping

girls night

just friends

book club

poker

the ride-along

guys night

academic jealously

double date

scary movie

cara mia

pet names

matchmaker

chores

you're too good for me

pda

don't leave

pampering

shits and giggles

the wolverine

haircut

admiring

mrs. howlett

our shirt

period cramps

ruined surprise

photo

disco party

arm wrestle

couple questions

unexpected visit

meet the parents

always

healing

new beginnings

girl dad

gossip session

one-shots ⤦

get along

relax

like a dream

that boy is mine

blanket

logan’s hair

you'll get used to it

i'll take care of you

save a horse, ride a cowboy

i can be the good guy

one of your girls

stay with me

one bed

you make me nervous

mr. darcy

truth or dare

teleport

runaway

crush

watch it, bub

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cowboybeepboop · 4 months ago

Note

What about a Tyler Owens x reader where Tyler loves the idea of getting the reader pregnant?

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut, just smutty

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Tyler’s fiancee and he has an insatiable desire for you.

Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v sex.

a/n: This one is super short and sweet 😝 Hope y'all enjoy, as always send any requests my way! It can be for any character or fandom just let me know 🙏

You stir slightly in your sleep, feeling the warmth of Tyler's body pressed against yours, his steady breathing in your ear a comforting lullaby. His hand began to gently trace the curve of your waist, his fingertips sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The early morning light painted soft hues on the bedroom walls, hinting at the promise of a new day.

“Ty.. 5 more minutes,” you murmur, cuddling back against his chest. Tyler chuckled warmly, his hand tracing lazy circles on your waist while you cuddled against him in the early morning light. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, relishing the intimacy.

"Five minutes, huh? That's five minutes I could spend doing something a little more fun," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. His fingers continued to explore your curves, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“Honey, please..” you whine softly, reaching to stop his wandering hand. Tyler chuckled again, his hand slowly coming to a stop under yours. He let out a mock sigh, feigning disappointment, but his tone remained playful.

"Alright, alright. But you're depriving me of some quality time with you," he said, gently pulling you closer against his chest. "I guess I can wait five more minutes...but don't blame me if I get a bit restless."

Tyler's breath hitched as he began to press against you, his hands moving to your waist as his hips gently rocked against you. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer against him as the heat between you grew.

"You make it so damn hard to wait," he whispered in your ear, his voice gruff with desire. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses before nipping at your earlobe.

With a sleepy smile, you concede defeat to the siren call of Tyler's touch. You let out soft, needy moans as his erection insistently presses into your backside, the evidence of his desire unmistakable. Your eyes flutter open, no longer able to fall back asleep.

The early morning light now seems brighter, charged with a new energy as you become fully aware of the passion building between you. You reach behind you, your hand finding his, and guide it slowly down the curve of your waist to the apex of your thighs.

The fabric of your panties is already damp with anticipation, and you gasp quietly as his fingers graze over the sensitive fabric, the heat of his palm sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His touch sends a thrill of excitement through you, and any remaining drowsiness is chased away by the growing ache of desire.

You feel his smirk against your neck, his breaths becoming more ragged as his fingertips glide over your skin. He takes the hint without hesitation, slipping his hand into your panties with a practiced ease that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his finger grazes your clit, you let out a soft gasp, arching your back slightly to allow him better access.

His touch is feather-light at first, teasing the sensitive bud in gentle circles that make you squirm with pleasure. His erection presses more insistently into your backside, and you can feel his excitement mirroring your own. Tyler's breath hitches in your ear, his body taut with restrained need, as he explores the soft folds of your sex with increasing pressure and intent.

The warmth of Tyler's finger on your clit is overwhelming, making it difficult to focus on anything but the delicious sensation. His hand moves in a steady rhythm, matching the increasing tempo of your breaths. The fabric of your underwear is the only barrier to the fullness you crave, and with a sudden surge of need, you slide it down your legs, feeling the cool air kiss your skin.

Tyler seems to understand your silent plea, as his hand leaves your waist and reaches around to assist in the removal, his erection now pressing firmly against your exposed entrance. With a soft moan, you guide his hand away from your clit and towards your wetness, feeling the urgency in his touch as he eagerly takes the hint.

His finger lingers for a brief moment before slipping inside you, the sensation making your eyes roll back in your head. The slickness of your arousal coats him, making it easy for him to glide in and out, the intimate connection sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His cock, now free from his boxers, nudges against your wetness, and you arch your back, inviting him in. He wastes no time, aligning himself with your inviting heat and pushing forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate stroke. The feeling of him inside you is heavenly, and you let out a guttural moan as he starts to move, his finger never leaving the sensitive bud that's now swollen with desire.

As Tyler's finger works its magic on your clit, his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him, his cock driving into you with a steady, powerful rhythm. "You're so wet, so tight," he whispers in your ear, his voice a mix of awe and hunger.

His hips slam into yours deliberately, each thrust punctuating his words, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You moan into the pillow, your body trembling with the force of his passion. His kisses graze your shoulders, tender and gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce possession of his hips.

The combination of his tender touch and relentless pounding sends you spiraling closer to the edge of climax, the tension coiling tightly in your core. His breath is hot against your skin, his grip unyielding as he claims you in the early morning light, and you can't help but feel completely and utterly owned by this man who has woken you up with such fiery desire.

As the intensity of your shared passion reaches a crescendo, your pussy clenches tightly around Tyler's thick shaft, the muscles spasming with the imminent release of your orgasm. He groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he feels the walls of your sex contract around him.

The sound of your moans and the slick wetness of your arousal coating him only drives him closer to the precipice of his own climax. Tyler's hips buck, his movements becoming erratic as he fights the urge to let go. With one final, deep thrust, he can't hold back anymore, and with a guttural growl, he fills you with his hot, pulsing seed.

The sensation sends you over the edge, and your body convulses in pleasure, your orgasm crashing down upon you like a wave. You follow right after him, crying out as the most intense climax of your life wracks through your body, the aftershocks resonating deep within your core.

As the last tremors of your orgasm subside, you attempt to shift away from Tyler, the need to feel the weight of his cock inside you momentarily satisfied. But Tyler's arms tighten around your waist, refusing to let you move.

"Not yet," he murmurs into your ear, his voice a hoarse whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Stay right here." His grip is firm, yet gentle, as if he's afraid you might slip away from him if he doesn't hold on tight enough. You feel the warmth of his semen inside you, mingling with your own juices, creating a deliciously intimate bond that feels almost primal.

His cock twitches, hardening inside you once again, reminding you of the power it holds over your body, and despite your earlier protests, a thrill of excitement rushes through you at the thought of him taking you again.

You relax back into his embrace, allowing him to keep his length buried within you, feeling his heart pound in time with your own as you both catch your breath and bask in the afterglow of your shared climax.

Tyler runs his hand across your stomach, his touch gentle and possessive. "Y'know, babe," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "it's a damn hot thought, getting you pregnant. Imagining your belly swelling with our baby... It's something I can't quite shake."

He presses himself closer against you, his body fitting perfectly against yours, as if trying to claim you as his completely.

“Think so?” you murmur, feeling his hand over your belly, almost like he's imagining what it would feel like if you were swollen with his child.

Tyler lets out a soft hum of agreement, his hand still lingering over your belly. "Yeah, I do," he says softly, his voice a low rumble. "It's a potent thought. Imagining us having a family together, creating a life together..."

He trails off, his touch becoming more deliberate as his hand caresses the expanse of your bare stomach, as if he were trying to picture it already. "The thought of you carrying my baby in here... Damn, babe. It does something to me."

“I can feel what it’s doing to you,” you tease, hips grinding back against his. With a smoldering look in his eyes, Tyler pulls you up onto all fours, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden change in position.

He kisses the back of your neck before whispering in your ear, "You know, they say this position is pretty effective for baby-making." The mischief in his voice is clear, but there's also a seriousness that sends a shiver down your spine. His movements are deliberate and possessive, each stroke claiming you and the possibility of new life within you.

You whimper with every thrust, the angle hitting you just right, and you know that he's lost in the fantasy as much as you are. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the moans of passion as he takes you, his grip on your hips tightening with each movement.

The idea of being bred by him in this raw, primal way is intoxicating, and you find yourself pushing back into him, eager for more. His breathing is heavy and labored in your ear, his hips pistoning into you with a fierce determination that matches the racing of your heart.

The early morning light casts a warm glow across your bodies, making your skin look like it's been kissed by the sun, as Tyler continues to claim you in this intimate, life-altering dance of love and desire.

Tyler's deep, powerful strokes fill the room with a symphony of desire, your moans melding with his grunts of effort. His hand slides up from your hip to cup your breast, his thumb playing with your hardened nipple, sending electric jolts of pleasure through your body.

As he continues to pound into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot with a precision that makes your toes curl, he leans forward to kiss the arch of your back, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

"I want to feel you come again," he whispers, his voice a dark promise that sends a shiver down your spine. His other hand slides down to find your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive nub with a pressure that matches the rhythm of his thrusts.

The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you find yourself rocking back into him, urging him deeper, your body begging for release. His kisses become more insistent, moving from your shoulder blade to the small of your back, each one a declaration of his love and need for you.

As Tyler's finger expertly teases your clit, you feel your body tense up, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. "Oh, god, Tyler," you moan, your voice shaking with the approaching climax. His movements become more ragged, his hips slapping against your ass as he nears his own release.

His breath is erratic in your ear, his grip tightening on your waist as if he's trying to meld your bodies together. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice thick with desire. With a final, desperate thrust, his finger presses hard on your clit, and you shatter, your orgasm rushing through you like a storm.

The sensation is so intense that you cry out, your muscles contracting around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Tyler's own climax follows immediately, his hot seed filling you up as he groans in satisfaction.

His body tenses, and then relaxes, his cock still pulsing inside you as the aftershocks of your shared ecstasy wash over both of you. For a moment, the world outside the bedroom ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, connected in the most primal and intimate way possible.

Tyler collapses beside you, his chest heaving with exertion as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace, his touch tender and possessive as he holds you close.

"Damn, that was intense," he says, his voice rough. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, his lips gently caressing your skin. "The thought of you carrying my baby though... That's all I can think about now."

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stevesgother · 5 months ago

Text

The 4th - S.H

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI NSFW, cursing, drinking, characters are all of age, takes place after the events of ST3, slight exhibitionism only bc they’re technically outside, it’s that slightly awkward but endearing sex you have when you fuck someone you like for the first time. It's realistic. Sue me.

AN: first time writing smut, i'm so nervous. fast times au?? If you squint?? the last half isn't proofread bc i simply cannot bring myself to read my own smut

‘American Woman’ by The Guess Who blares loudly from a twin pair of Hitachi speakers stationed on Steve Harrington’s back deck. On the hottest day of the year, The Party had decided to congregate at the only non-public pool they had unlimited access to.

To his relief, Steve had been assigned to grill duty again. The cherry red bikini you had sauntered through his sliding glass door wearing was starting to seriously inconvenience him. He had his Ray Bans on, albeit low on the bridge of his nose, to disguise where his gaze had been lingering all afternoon; the large propane grill hiding his lower half.

Lounging poolside on your towel, you hear before you feel a large ‘SPLASH’, and suddenly you’re soaked head to toe in overly chlorinated pool water.

“Ugh! Henderson!” you scold as you stand to replace your now drenched towel. The cheeky boy looks up at you from where he floats in the pool and mouths a half-hearted ‘Sorry’.

“Steve! Would you happen to have an extra towel?” you shout to him as you hold up your ruined one, shooting him a deadpan expression. “Yeah, ‘course,” he sets down the grill tongs and awkwardly shuffles his way inside, keeping his back to you. Weird, you think.

Steve caught one look at you, hair wet and dripping, water beading down your neck and disappearing among the curve of your breasts; nipples taught from the sudden shock of cold water and visible through the fabric of your swimsuit, and he was grateful for the reprieve inside would offer him.

After close to 15 minutes of no Steve and more importantly, no towel, you decide to venture into the spacious house yourself. “Steve! – Oh!-” you startle as you run chest to chest into him, both turning a corner. “You scared me,” you say with a hand to your racing heart, “I was just wondering where you went,” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah no, sorry, I just uh- got distracted,” he says, avoiding contact and handing you the fresh linen. You glance down, and notice the slight tent in his maybe too-tight swim trunks. You feel the heat of a rosy blush crawl up your cheeks, and a sudden flip of your stomach. Were you really the reason why he was acting so strange? That felt incredibly presumptuous of you.

“Well um…” you trail off, trying to keep your cool, “thanks. For the towel, I mean.” Steve had never made you feel so bashful and uncertain before. Something about the newly exposed skin and the salty smell of sweat mixed musk that radiates off of him from this proximity making your mind short circuit.

–

When the cookout had dwindled down to just the adults and the sun dipped just below the trees, a joint had started to be passed around your small circle. “Well, we should probably head home,” Nancy announces in her usual demure tone, grabbing Jonathan’s hand helping him to stand. A chorus of goodbyes echo throughout the group, eventually leaving just you, Steve, Robin and Eddie.

An exaggerated yawn escapes Robin as she declares she’s exhausted and needs Eddie to drive her home in his rinky dink van.

“C’mon man! I just rolled this joi-”

Robin cuts him off with a harsh clear of her throat and an even harsher jab to his ribs.

“I. Really think. We. Should. Go.” She punctuates each word with a forced smile. Why was everyone acting so fucking odd today? You try to send her a panicked glance, fearing the potential awkwardness of being left here alone with Steve.

Being best friends with both of you, she was well aware of the searing crushes the two of you had on each other. This barbeque was her opportunity to light a fire under your asses to do something about it.

“That’s okay, Rob. Go home if you’re tired.” Always the gentleman. Right now you could kick him for it. If Robin notices your glaring, she doesn’t acknowledge it as she rises to her feet and heads toward the gate leading to the driveway.

“Bye losers!” She waggles her fingers at you as they make their exit, sending you a subtle wink that sets your cheeks ablaze. You now know without a doubt that this was intentional.

A hand on your knee as he says, “I can walk you home if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. We can finish the joint at least,” you smile timidly at him. Free weed wasn’t easy to come by these days, what was the harm in staying just a little longer?

–

2 hours later, you’re lying shoulder to shoulder on the rough concrete surrounding the Harrington’s pool. The joint had been snuffed out on the ground between you an hour ago, but with your thoughts dulled like this it was becoming increasingly easy to bask in the space you two had created for each other. The desire to turn heel and run with your other friends had long fizzled out.

“Hey, what was up with you today?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “You just seemed really off,”

He looks suddenly nervous, “Oh I uh– I don’t know. Julys’ always a weird month for me, I guess,” he lies, carding a hand through his hair.

Taking the hand that’s not in his hair in your own, you ask, “Are you doing okay?” When he turns his head to meet you, your sincerity makes him blush - neck to ears. Your faces are closer than he thought they would be. He can count every eyelash from this proximity.

“Yeah– you know what,” He clears his throat, “I’m actually really warm,” he sits up clumsily as he pulls his shirt over his head by the collar, ruffling his hair and exposing the constellation of freckles and moles he has spattering the skin on his toned back.

“Okay–” You go to stand with him but he’s already dove into the pool. When he breaches the surface, he shakes his hair out like a dog and grins at you. You can’t help your eyes wandering to the dark patch of hair covering his chest. You’re starting to feel that warmth he had been complaining of.

“You gonna come in? Or just stand there and gawk?” He laughs as he floats over to you.

So you peel your shirt off and watch him stare intently as you unbutton your shorts, letting them drop to your feet. A less than elegant swan dive and you’re disappearing under the artificially blue water. The sudden coolness of it shocks you, sobering you up a bit.

You’re much more graceful than the boy when it’s your turn to come up for air, gently pushing back the hair that sticks to your face. He swims over to you unsuspectingly, then in the next breath and with a mischievous grin he lifts your body over his shoulder and essentially bodyslams you back under the surface.

More than the gesture itself, what shocks you the most is the warm expanse of his broad shoulders caressing you. You both emerge laughing, “Asshole!” you swat at his chest playfully.

When the laughter dies and fizzles out into an anxious energy, the air is filled with a sort of anticipation. The two of you are bobbing in the pool, faces no more than an inch apart.

“You have got to stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, breathlessly.

Just then he surges forward and presses his lips firmly to yours. The kiss is close-mouthed and chaste at first, giving you a chance to pull away. When you don’t take the opportunity, he deepens it. Your wet hands move to hold his face, breaching the water with a small splashing sound and his strong arms hug you at the waist, bringing you impossible closer. Pressed up against him like this you can feel all of him. The scratch of curls on his chest, the bulge of his biceps around your middle, the hard length of him pressed against your thigh.

Gasping into the kiss, you give him the opening he needs to lick hotly into your mouth, eliciting a breathy moan from your chest that sends Steve reeling. He starts to slowly kick his legs, swimming to push your back up against a vinyl clad wall.

Your lips move to lick the vein that runs down his neck, then up to a spot just below his ear. He groans when you take his earlobe gently into your mouth. Grasping your cheek in his hand, he forces your face out of the refuge his neck had provided from his intense gaze.

“Can I touch you?” He shudders when he speaks, having dreamt about this exact moment for years. Your response is an enthusiastic nod and another searing kiss to his lips - plush and pink and made for your own.

Steve’s knee moves to rest bookended between your thighs, keeping you open for him. In the water, he can’t feel how pathetically wet you are beneath your bright red bikini bottoms. You’re thankful for that, but even so, the whine that you release when his swift fingers push aside the fabric and start slowly massaging your clit is enough to give you away.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens, leaving small crescent shapes in his perfect skin. “Oh!-- God, keep doing that,” you pant.

“You like that, baby?” Steve tries to sound suave. Mr. Confident. King Steve. Honestly, he’s terrified. He has half a mind to stop and ask you to pinch him, not entirely convinced this is even real. But the sweet, sweet sounds you’re making are enough to persuade him otherwise.

“Yes! Ah– please, don’t stop,” you beg, even though you don’t have to. Steve’s positive he would do just about anything you asked of him right now. You have the sudden urge to return the favor, reaching down between your two bodies and palming him through his swim trunks.

“Oh -- my God, don’t,” he warns, the sheepish smile on his face signals to you that he’s not actually uncomfortable, “I’ll come in my pants like a damn teenager,” he gives an embarrassed chuckle.

Growing desperate for more, you say, “I want you to fuck me.” with an impossible finality. It makes Steve’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Wh-what?” He needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Steve. I need you to fuck me. Now.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you begin to press open-mouth kisses to his neck again.

“Oh my God,” The boy sounds absolutely wrecked already, barely able to contain himself. His hands fumble blindly for the ties on your bikini bottoms and he pulls when he finds them. Unwrapping you like his very own Christmas present.

You pull his trunks down and over his hips, just enough to fish his red and swollen cock out, careful to not let them fall to the bottom of the pool lest someone have to dive and retrieve them. You line him up hurriedly with your entrance, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” His brows furrow in that way they always do, when he's unsure. He has a crinkle above his nose.

“Yes” you half moan before getting a look at his face, “Wait, are you?”

“Yes! Yes– of course. I just– want you to be sure,” He kisses you softly after he asks

It’s so tender, you feel so safe with him like this. You fear you might be falling in love.

“I promise, I’m su–Oh!” he slides into you without warning, nearly knocking the breath out of you. He lets out a guttural groan into the space where your shoulder meets your neck as he starts to keep a steady rhythm.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants into your open mouth, “i’ve wanted this for so long,”

His words have you keening. He wraps his broad arms fully around you now, hugging you close as he pistons his hips into you. Repeatedly hitting that spot inside your walls where you need him the most.

“Oh, Steve!” you moan loudly, no longer concerned about the neighbors hearing you. The pool water begins to form waves from Steve’s thrusting and splash up onto the concrete beside your head.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” you can feel his hips stuttering slightly.

“Steve!” He whines directly into your ear when you say it, you never would’ve thought he’d be so vocal.

“Touch yourself baby, I’m close,”

You do as you’re asked and start to keep a frenzied pace on your sensitive bud. Having both kinds of stimulation, mixed with Steve’s sweet praise, is sending you closer and closer to your edge.

As you reach your high, Steve can feel your warm pussy clench around him, making him hurtle towards his orgasm with you.

With a strangled cry, “fuck- I'm cumming,” You finish together as hips slow and he rides out his orgasm with you. His body curls in on itself and he trembles slightly. You run a warm, soft hand through his hair and down his back, soothing him through the intensity of it.

“Shit- my parents are going to kill me,” he laughs and kisses you again.

Maybe you did like swimming. Just a little bit.

tags: @daisy-munson, @megxplryxb

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sunsburns · 5 days ago

Text

summer road trip with luke castellan (16+, implied sex)

it starts with a promise.

made late at night, in the kind of hazy space between sleep and dreaming, when the world feels quiet and nothing’s quite real yet. you’re lying side by side on a roof somewhere—one of those abandoned places luke likes to sneak into. the stars are barely visible, city lights bleeding up into the sky, but you’re not really looking at the stars anyway.

“we should do it,” he says, breathless from laughter after a dumb joke he barely managed to get out. “just take off one day. no plans. no schedules. just you, me, and the open road.”

you laugh into the sleeve of your hoodie. “okay, cowboy.”

“i’m serious.” he props himself up on his elbows. “we’ll make playlists. stay in janky motels. get gas station snacks that’ll probably kill us. it’ll be perfect.”

you hum, eyes fluttering shut. “we’re always saying ‘one day.’ you ever think about making it this day?”

he doesn’t say anything for a long second.

then, “i’ll steal a car.”

you snort. “please don’t steal a car.”

“fine. borrow one.” he nudges your arm. “c’mon. you know you want this.”

you do. gods, you really do.

and maybe that’s why two weeks later you’re throwing a duffel bag in the backseat of an old car luke somehow managed to “legally” obtain (you don’t ask too many questions), a worn paper map stuffed into the glove compartment, and three half-charged burner phones just in case.

you don’t even pick a destination. that’s the point.

it’s about the drive.

the first few days are the best kind of disorganized. you get hopelessly turned around trying to get out of the city, miss your turn like, four times, and end up on some weird detour through a town that seems stuck in the 1950s. you eat breakfast-for-dinner at a diner with cracked red booths and a waitress who calls you both “sweethearts.” luke leaves a doodle on a napkin and tucks it into the jukebox.

the road stretches ahead like a ribbon of possibility, glittering under the sun. the heat blurs the horizon, making everything shimmer like a mirage, and the sky is that kind of obnoxiously perfect blue that feels more like a postcard than real life.

the a.c. in the car gave up somewhere around three days ago, so the windows are rolled down, warm air rushing in and tangling your hair, sticking your shirt to your back. it doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.

you've got one foot propped on the dash and a half-melted slushie wedged into the cupholder, condensation dripping down the sides. the map—the one you swore you didn’t need, and luke insisted you bring anyway—flutters against your knee every time the wind hits just right. it’s already creased and stained, with corners starting to curl. neither of you are really using it.

a cd clicks softly in the stereo, and a hazy guitar riff spills out—something easy, something old. the kind of music that makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

you hum to the songs you know, watching the scenery blur past in golden smears of light and heat.

luke’s driving one-handed, the other resting lazily out the window, fingers tapping against the door in time with the beat. sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, and there’s a sunburn blooming along the edge of his jaw that he keeps forgetting to take care of. he looks over at you, grinning.

“you’re gonna fly out the window if you lean any further.”

“worth it,” you say, hair whipping across your face. “this breeze is all that’s keeping me alive right now.”

he chuckles, reaching over to tug the map from your lap. “you’re the one who said we didn’t need to stop for sunscreen. or, y’know, ice.”

“and you’re the one who didn’t want to stop for directions,” you shoot back, watching him squint at the map like it personally offended him. “so now we’re two thirsty idiots lost somewhere between nowhere and hell.”

“romantic,” he says, tossing the map into the backseat. “just the way i like it.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s affectionate. always is with him.

the wind smells like dust and wildflowers, and every few miles, you pass a road sign faded by time and sun. one of them promises a lake in twenty minutes which probably is not true. the next, a diner with the “best pie in the state.” you don’t stop for either. maybe the next one.

you were supposed to take turns driving. that was the deal—fifty-fifty, no arguments. but luke, being luke, never sticks to the plan. he always insists he’s fine, even when you catch his eyes fluttering shut at a red light, head tilting slightly like he’s about to nod off right then and there.

“i literally saw you close your eyes for five seconds,” you say when he pulls into a gas station, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he parks.

“it was just five seconds,” he groans.

“five seconds away from crashing,” you mutter, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “move over.”

he sighs, dragging himself out from behind the wheel with all the theatrics of someone who’s definitely not fine, even if he still insists otherwise. he grumbles under his breath as he slides into the passenger seat—and is completely passed out the second his head hits the window. no “i’m not even tired,” no “just resting my eyes.” just out cold. mouth open, snoring, even drooling a little.

you drive comfortably after that. there’s less tension on your shoulders now that you’re the one in control, and luke’s quiet snoring is oddly comforting.

he stirs sometime later, sleep-warm and rumpled, his voice still thick with it when he reaches across the console. his hand finds yours with ease, like it’s muscle memory. his fingers slot between yours and, without a word, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. soft. slow. like a thank-you.

somewhere between a cracked-out diner with the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had and a pit stop at a quiet national park, you start feeling it—that warm, slow burn that only summer with luke castellan can bring.

it’s in the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. it’s in the casual brush of his thumb over the back of your hand. it’s in the way he steals bites of your food, complains about the heat, and still tucks a cold bottle of water into your hands without being asked.

he’s quiet during the hikes, but he always slows down so you don’t fall behind, even when you insist you’re fine. he keeps snacks in his pockets for you, things he knows you like, things you didn’t even notice him buying. and when you sit beside him on the edge of a cliff, watching the sun drip like honey into the horizon, he kisses your shoulder so gently it sends goosebumps across your skin.

he takes so many pictures of you. most of the time you don’t even notice until he shows you later—sun-drenched, wind-tousled, blurry with motion but sharp with love. he says he wants to remember you like this. you laugh and roll your eyes, but still smile a little too hard when you see them.

you two stop at a few motels every now and then. they were nothing special. peeling paint, flickering neon sign half-buzzed out, and a questionable stain or two on the carpet—but it’s cheap, and it’s got just enough charm to feel like part of the story. luke leans against the counter while you check in, tapping the bell repeatedly until you swat at him.

the old woman behind the desk gives you a room key and a knowing smirk like she’s seen a thousand versions of you two before: sunburnt, road-weary, eyes too bright to be anything but in love.

sometimes, impulses get the best of the two of you. like when one day luke spots a faded little hand-painted sign pointing down an overgrown path off the side of the highway. beach access. there’s no one around. no cars. just the sound of cicadas and wind through tall grass.

you both follow it on instinct, barefoot and laughing, racing toward the sound of crashing waves.

and then there it is: a hidden stretch of shoreline tucked between two cliffs, like a secret carved out just for you. no footprints, no noise except for the ocean. the sand’s hot and soft under your feet, the sun dipping low on the horizon and casting everything in amber.

you run straight into the water, still half-dressed, splashing and shrieking when luke dunks you under and then pulls you back up, breathless and dripping. he kisses you then, water-slicked and grinning, hands on your waist like he’s never going to let go.

and later, after you’ve both sprinted back to the car, giddy and dripping wet, after the sand’s stuck to every inch of your skin and the sun’s painted you gold, you end up tangled in the back seat. skin sticky with sweat, your bodies pressed close in the heat of the car, breathing in tandem.

the windows fog up, the air thick with salt and sun and something heavier. the radio hums low, some lazy summer song playing beneath the sounds of your bodies shifting, touching, needing. his hands roam like he’s mapping you out all over again, rough in the way he holds you but gentle in the way he touches, like he knows exactly where to press to make you shiver.

he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the taste of salt on your lips, like he wants to bottle this exact moment and keep it somewhere safe. and you, half-laughing between gasps, fingers twisted in his curls, mumble against his mouth, “i told you the backseat would get too hot.”

“guess we’ll have to open the door,” he says, voice low and teasing. “get a breeze in here.”

you roll your eyes, breathless and flushed. “fuck off, if we get caught by some poor park ranger—”

“worth it,” he grins, before kissing you again. deeper, slower this time.

and when you’re breathless and half-dressed, your back pressed to the warm seat and your body aching in all the best ways, you lie there with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is loud in your ear, steady and real.

you tilt your face up toward him, the fading light painting him in gold. “same time next summer?”

his arm tightens around you, his voice soft and full of something you don’t have a name for yet. “you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

#currently clearing out my drafts and found this #an old draft from january of last year and i decided to finish it #is a lot longer than i intended my bad #god i love summer i wish it was summer right now so my imaginary boyfriend and i could do this #luke’s cabin #faye’s writing ⭑.ᐟ #luke castellan #luke castellan drabble #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Summer Breeze 1

Was gonna be a drabble roulette. Fuck me, I can't do this right, can I?

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad's friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You push yourself up from the air mattress, feeling the floor through the deflating cushion. You grumble and yawn as you rub your eyes. You stand up, the loose tank clinging to your stomach as you tug the hem of your shorts from the crease of your thigh.

You don’t lament your accommodation. You know you’re a last-minute addition to the trip. The place is a bit crowded and you’re just happy to not be laid out in the dirt. Still a free vacation is a free vacation. You won’t complain for it.

You stretch and pad to the door, careful not to disturb the bodies sleeping in the dual bunk beds. You’ve never been to a cottage before. This place is nicer than your house. Even if it’s a bit cramped.

Your dad always complained about the mortgage and now you know why. He’s struggling to make his monthly payments and keep you in school, meanwhile the neighbour has a whole second house by a lake. You feel worse for your meagre contributions. Your part-time job won’t get your dad his own beach house.

As you get to the door, you jump at the loud snort the cuts the air. Jacob rolls over and throws his arm over his face. He’s been at it all night. Him and his friends who crowd onto the single mattresses.

You get along but you’re not exactly a part of his usual gang. It was your dad’s idea to come up. You know he forgot it was his turn to have you for the summer. The awkward getaway is better than dealing with another of your mother’s boyfriends.

Your weight creaks in the floor as you come down the hall and you stop short at the unexpected figure stood before the open windows. You hug yourself as wind blows in from over the water. You stare at Mr. Barber’s broad shoulders as he stands shirtless as he stares out at the morning landscape.

You should go back. You’re always the first one awake at the sleepover. You lean back on your heel and the floor whines loud enough to give you away. You cringe.

“Burton--” Mr. Barber grits as he glances over his shoulder, cutting himself short as he sees you. He turns to face you completely and coughs, “sorry, I thought you were your father.”

“Um, no, sorry Mr. Barber, I was just... awake,” you utter dumbly.

“Andy,” he corrects you.

“Right, Andy,” you echo nervously, “I’ll just--” you point with your thumb over your shoulder.

“It’s fine, I... I--” he stops and looks down at himself. He wears only a pair of shorts, “shoot, I--” he clears his throat and searches around, pulling on the button up hung over one of the dining chairs, “got a bit hot.”

You notice the couch is all made up; crumpled blankets and a wrinkled pillow.

“Your dad’s in my room. He had a bit too much fun with the beer,” he sniffs.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you rub your neck. That’s not unusual.

“You drink coffee?” He asks as he comes forward, “you college girls still have caffeine without all that whip and syrup?”

You frown at the insinuation. He’s one of those; ‘in my day’, though you sense a flavour of misogyny too. You shrug.

“I don’t drink coffee,” you answer as he nears, “I’ll have some water and lemon, if you have it.”

“Lemon water,” he grumbles as he brushes closely, “you on a diet?”

You squint and let out a scoff, “no.”

He’s quiet as he looks in the fridge and takes out a large pitcher. His cheek ticks as he thinks, “not that you need to be on one... sorry.” He pours you a glass and slides it to the end of the counter, “no lemons.”

“That’s fine,” you accept the glass.

“Well, I was gonna say,” he scratches his beard as he backs up, his shirt still open, revealing his furry chest, “coffee always tastes better out on the dock but... you don’t drink coffee.”

“Mm,” you hum, “well, thanks for the water. If you don’t mind, I might go out anyway.”

He nods as he turns, popping open a cupboard to search out the canister of coffee. You linger, waiting for any response. He peels the lid off the container and glances over. His blue eyes makes you shiver. You don't know him very well, he only just moved in your first year of college. Your dad likes him but your his friends never want much to do with you.

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering--” you begin.

“Don’t mind,” he answers, “the company, that is.” He turns back to fill the machine and lets out a sigh, “not used to a full house anymore and I don’t think your dad will be up soon enough to share the pot.” He loads the filter and closes the lid on the percolator, “or the others...”

“Probably not,” you agree.

He peeks over again as he fills the carafe. You’re suddenly very aware of your own attire, or lack thereof. The loose tank, the floral shorts with the untied drawstring. You sip from the glass and give a sheepish smile.

“Anyway, I need some fresh air,” you inch away as tap your fingertips on the side of the glass, “maybe I’ll see a few loons before they fly off.”

His brows rise and fall and he turns his focus back to the sink. He shuts off the water and turns to the machine. You leave him, eager to be away from the tension of your unexpected encounter. On second hand, this is just as awkward as dealing with one of your mother’s random hookups.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #defending jacob #drabble #summer breeze

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tetskuro · 7 months ago

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suna is not a sentimental person. at least that's what most people think. his deadpan remarks and blasé attitude do well to mask his true emotions.

you know better though. the numerous photo albums filled with blurry pictures of his friends and teammates. the way his eyes constantly scan and take in his surroundings, committing everything to memory. the longing for never-ending summer days to laze around and create moments to reminisce about in the future. all of suna's subtle habits that you've picked up on disprove his outward apathy.

as summer comes to a close, golden evenings stretch into the night, entering a space where time seems to pause. you and suna sit near the lake's edge in an enclave shrouded by trees. it's the perfect hideout spot that the two of you had the fortune of discovering as young carefree kids.

it's also where you first met suna. where you laughed at a ridiculous haircut he sported against his will. where you cried after a particularly nasty fight with your parents. where you whispered secrets meant only for his ears. where you shared your first kiss with him. where you said your goodbyes upon graduating. yet time and time again, no matter how old you get, you both find yourselves returning to the shared haven—an invisible compass drawing two individuals together.

a refreshing sensation spreads through your body as you dip your feet into the lake. the cold water is a contrast to the gentle warmth of the setting sun. sighing in contentment, you close your eyes and relax under the approaching dusk sky.

this is one of the first instances where suna doesn't feel inclined to pull his phone out and snap a photo. he can't—a mere picture couldn't hold a candle to the scene in front of him.

his breath catches in his throat as he observes the ripples of water caused by your fingers, the light sheen of sweat on your skin, and the shadows cast upon your face. from the softening of his usual sharp eyes, a gateway into his heart opens. god you're beautiful. he feels like a teenage schoolboy all over again, the same one who fell in love with you years ago.

unspoken promises hang thick in the air like the muggy twilight haze, afraid to be dispelled. with only the whine of cicadas and rustle of leaves breaking the silence, suna decides to keep the words close to his chest. he can't bring himself to disturb the peace so carefully constructed around the two of you.

and just like every year, suna doesn't want summer to end. the ephemeral nature of the interval between summer and autumn is what makes these days so special though. but if this were to last forever, there's no one he would rather be with in the limbo of fleeting moments than you.

for more works, check out my masterlist

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dawn-moths · 3 months ago

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thinking about tomura being tenko’s older brother where they’re perhaps ten years apart. you and tomura first meet when you’re both eighteen, start hanging out as friends, but you’re only vaguely aware he has a sibling when sometimes he says he can’t hang out that particular weekend because he has to “babysit the brat”.

after a while, you’re able to convince him to show you a picture of his little brother. you’re curious if they look alike, and other than a few features like their eye and hair color, you can easily imagine how tomura looked at that age, too. him and tenko look startling similar to each other even with that many years between them.

“sorry…” tomura grumbles through the other side of your phone call one afternoon. “tenko’s soccer practice got canceled and now my mom’s making me watch him while she’s at work.”

he sounds annoyed, almost embarrassed by the fact that, even at eighteen, he has to obey his mother’s requests, but is ultimately contrite about his last minute change of plans having to effect you so often as well.

“it’s ok,” you assure him with your usual chipper tone, fully understanding the responsibility he has. “but, y’know…” you remind him, “if it’s ok, i could always come over and we could hang out while you’re watching your brother?”

you try and hide your eagerness the best you can. the truth is, you’ve been wanting to meet the mini-tomura for quite some time now. tomura always describes him as annoying, as a needy little brat that whines until he gets his way, but the words are never spit with scorn and there’s something soft in his eyes that always gives away the fact that he actually does care.

tomura usually just brushes off your offer, promises to reschedule with you, so you’re prepared to be let down, but that time, after a short pause of contemplation, tomura clears his throat and says, “i mean, yeah, ok. that’s fine i guess, if you want…”

“ok!” you beam, already grabbing your keys. “i’ll be over soon then!” you hang up, grab your bag, and jump in your car.

any time you’ve been over to tomura’s house (which has been few and far between, since your place tends to be the designated hangout given you usually have the house to yourself most of the time) tenko hasn’t been there. he’s been at his aforementioned soccer practice or a friend’s house or some other activity that’s kept you from meeting him.

you’re so curious it’s overwhelming, and as you pull up to tomura’s house he’s already perched on the front step, gazing at his phone until he hears your car approaching. you park by the curb and scamper up to greet him, giving him a hug as per usual, and though he’d sounded sort of defeated on the phone earlier, seeing your smiling face now makes him feel a little lighter.

“hey,” you grin, momentarily holding both his hands in your own down between your close bodies. sometimes you're reminded how adverse to any kind of physical touch tomura used to be when the two of you had first met. even something as simple as a light, playful nudge would make him flinch, cause him to keep a bit more of a distance for the rest of the day.

but over time, you're not sure exactly why but, something changed.

and it was actually him who came to comfort you that time. you'd been upset, had planned on staying in your room alone until the ache decided to pass. but then you and tomura had started texting. he'd sensed something was wrong so he'd called. he'd heard the heartbreak in your voice, told you he was on his way, and not ten minutes later he was sitting beside you on your bed with his arm around you as you'd talked to him about what had happened while you'd cried.

ever since then, he'd gotten more comfortable with your casual, familiar touches, though he still found it easier to touch you than to be touched by you.

“hey,” he returns, then adds with that hint of that sarcastic humor you’ve come to love so much, “you ready to meet the little demon?”

you laugh, unable to not be amused by his melodrama. “oh, c’mon,” you say, lightly batting at his arm. “he’s only eight, he can’t be that bad!”

all tomura offers in response is a muttered, “yeah, well…” before inviting you inside.

as soon as you walk through the door, a little dog comes bounding towards you, running in energetic circles and barking as his tail wags with both curiosity and excitement. you proceed with caution around the corgi, wanting to reach down to pet him but hesitating around the unfamiliar animal.

the few times you'd been over before, tomura had let his dog out into the yard so he wouldn't end up jumping all over you, so this is the first time you're meeting him up close instead of catching glances of him through a window.

"ugh, sorry..." tomura mutters as he reaches down and scoops his dog up, the canine's tail continuing to wag even more once he's secure in tomura's arms. "i forgot to let him out back..." he then seems to realize something, his eyes widening a bit as he does a double take back at you and asks with a little more guilt in his tone, "you're not afraid of dogs, are you...?"

you wave off his concern with a swish of your hand and a crooked smile. you tell him you're not, you were just a little surprised is all.

"it's mon-chan, right?" you ask, slowly reaching your hand out for the dog to sniff.

"yeah. mon-chan," tomura confirms, readjusting his grip on the wriggling animal. "he's super friendly. just, well..." he gives a half shrug as a small grin cracks at one corner of his mouth. "he can be a lot."

"hey, mon-chan..." you coo, your tone turned sugary sweet, and the dog gives the back of your hand a few friendly licks. "awwww, you're cute, aren't you? what a good boy..."

but before you can dote over the dog too much, something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, causing you to shift your view towards the living room that sits off to the side of the main entrance.

and, lo and behold, there he is.

little tenko and his sweet little face that reminds you so much of the older brother you’ve become so fond of.

“hiiiii,” you greet the little boy with a soft voice and a smile. you know kids can often be wary when meeting new people, so when tenko just stares at you with those big, dark eyes you’re not surprised.

“hey,” tomura grumbles to his sibling. “don’t be rude. say hello.”

tenko then seems to snap out of his cautious trance, looking at his brother then back to you before saying, “is this the girl you’re always talking about, nii-san?”

tomura feels his cheeks heat and his ears burn as he sputters out something that sounds like half an excuse, half a scolding before telling tenko to go watch tv and behave. tenko obeys without any trouble and as you pass by through the living room you can see a popular superhero movie playing on the screen.

you travel down the short hall to where tomura’s bedroom lays at the very end, and once the door is shut he seems to become a little less tense.

“i’ll need to make him lunch in about an hour,” he tells you. “but until then…” he flashes you a suggestive smirk and you know exactly what’s coming.

it's one of your favorite things about hanging out together, the way it relieves the tension, lets you two unleash parts of yourself that you rarely let other people see. and tomura's been surprisingly good at it from the start. you wouldn't have guessed at a glance how skilled those hands could be, how coordinated given his usually lax, nonchalant nature...

he tosses you a game controller and you catch it with ease. “wha’dya say we pick up where we left off?” he asks, a hint of darkness to his voice that you now recognize as cold, hard competition.

you feel a look of confidence spreading across your face at the challenge and you reply in a tone befitting of a worthy opponent, “you’re on.”

the next hour passes quickly as you play your guys' favorite co-op game together, leaving you just two points from tying with tomura, and amidst your laughter and playful taunting, there’s a slight squeak as the door creaks on its hinges, little tenko peeking through the thin crack and observing, letting out a quiet gasp when he realizes he's been spotted.

“i’ll be out in a sec,” tomura tells his brother, already knowing what that expectant look means. tenko seems to linger, casting you another glance, and you convince tomura to pause the game.

“c’mon,” you murmur, giving him that guilt-tripping stare that he hates you for being so good at. “let’s go make him lunch and then we can finish this after.”

and it’s that suggestion of we, that suggestion of together, that has him pausing the game and setting his controller aside, standing from his bed to open the door to his little brother and following him down the hall to the kitchen, you close behind.

tomura takes out a tupperware from the fridge and has just popped it in the microwave when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "it's my mom," he states. "gimme one sec." he steps out of the kitchen and begins to wander towards the living room, his voice growing more distant as you hear him pick up the call. you hope everything is ok. but, for now, it's just you and tenko standing in the kitchen, the eight-year-old gazing up at you with that big, curious stare while the microwave counts down the seconds behind him.

"can i have lemonade?" he asks once you meet his eyes and give him a friendly grin.

the microwave beeps and you go to take his lunch out of it. "sure," you answer. but then, a little bit more suspiciously, you ask, "does tomura usually let you have lemonade?"

tenko nods, not giving anything away as you finish plating the other items of his lunch while tomura remains on the phone in the living room. from where you stand, if you glance just slightly around the entryway, you can see him sitting on the couch, leaning forward a bit while he continues to speak with his voice low. you just hope his mom won't be mad that he invited you over while she wasn't home.

it's not like you hadn't been over before when his house was empty, but given this is the first time you've met his little brother, you just hope you're not overstepping somehow. not to mention that, unbeknownst to you, tomura's mom had begun badgering him about meeting you before the end of summer. as soon as she'd caught onto the fact that her eldest son had been hanging out regularly with a girl, she couldn't help but become curious as to what kind of girl she might be.

a bit distracted by your thoughts, you just nod and say to tenko, "ok, sure, you can have some lemonade then."

once his chicken tenders and apple slices and animal crackers are promptly arranged on his plate and a glass of lemonade is poured, you carry tenko's lunch to the table and take a seat across from him while you wait for tomura to conclude his conversation, trying to keep your growing anxiety at bay at any possible problems that may be arising due to that phone call.

you try to listen in, though mostly hear the standard, vague, "yeah. uh-huh. alright," responses from tomura until—

"are you my brother's girlfriend?"

you blink at tenko, taken aback as you sputter over a response to that, wondering for a moment if you merely imagined it. then, once your nervous giggling and bashfulness begins to dissipate, you clear your throat and say, "did tomura tell you that?"

tenko takes another bite from one of his apple slices and says, "no. but he talks about you all the time. he says you're his friend, but i hear him talking to his friends at night when he thinks no one is listening."

you stare at tenko with an intensity you don't realize you're wearing on your face at first, the suspense eating you alive. eventually, when tenko doesn't seem like he's going to offer more, you lower your voice to something closer to a whisper, your gaze darting back to where you can barely see tomura sitting in the other room, still on the phone, and ask tenko, "what do you hear him say?"

tenko, his big eyes moving up and to the right, contemplates that for a moment as he finishes chewing and swallowing his next bite, then tells you, "i don't know exactly. i can't hear what his other friends are saying, but one time i heard nii-san say that you were special." you feel your cheeks heat and again glance over at the back of the boy you've become so fond of so quickly. "he said something about not wanting to ruin anything," tenko continues, reciting the words as if he doesn't quite grasp their meaning. but then, tenko's mouth splits into a mischievous little grin that reminds you so much of tomura, it's honestly a little scary. he says, seeming to find amusement in his next words, "one time, i heard him say you were like his guardian angel or something..."

a childish little giggle bubbles up from tenko's lips, almost as if he finds a cruel kind of pleasure in knowing his older brother's biggest secret, but this information just makes your heart all the more warmer towards tomura.

you'd spent the last couple of months suffering inside your own head about it all— about whether you really meant something to tomura, about if he cared for you as much as you did for him or if you were simply just convenient and would be discarded come any significant distance put between the two of you—

suddenly tenko seems to retract, perhaps sensing your discomfort, so you take the opportunity to clear the nerves and giddiness from your throat and change the subject.

"so, tenko," you begin, trying to straighten out your crooked smile. "tomura tells me you play soccer. do you like it?"

tenko gives a shrug at first, taking another bite of an apple slice that's had the skin peeled and cut to resemble rabbit ears. then he says, "i guess so. but i like watching movies more."

you ask him what kinds of movies he likes, recalling the superhero blockbuster that had been playing on the tv when you'd first arrived, and feel a spark of endearment as tenko's face lights up as he delves into telling you all about his favorite characters and their cool powers.

"wow! you sure know a lot!" you commend him with a beaming smile, and at the compliment tenko's face begins to turn a little red. "do you and tomura ever watch movies together?"

"not really..." the younger sibling sulks, pouting as he peels the remainder of the skin from his apple slice. "nii-san is usually playing video games in his room and my mom says i'm not allowed to play them because they're too violent..." then, before you can tell him that's too bad but one day he'll be old enough to play the same games as his brother, tenko perks back up and tells you, "but sometimes... sometimes nii-san lets me into his room on nights our mom works late and we play mario kart together."

you have to force yourself to stifle a laugh at that. i mean, it's just completely adorable, isn't it? the thought of tomura, who tries so hard to play it off like he couldn't care less about his little brother, like he's nothing more than a nuisance to him, a pest, an inconvenience, does actually take the time to bond with him anyway. at least, when no one's looking.

you tell tenko you also like mario kart, then lean in and add in a playful whisper, "but i bet he doesn't tell you about all the times i've beaten him, does he?"

tenko regards you with blatant skepticism. "no way," he says, as if he's never been more sure about anything in his life. "there's no way you can beat nii-san. he's too good! no one can beat him!"

now you laugh openly, causing tomura to glance over his shoulder just to make sure there isn't too much chaos ensuing in his brief absence, but tenko just looks confused.

"well," you reply, amusement trailing off the end of your words, "he is pretty good. i'll give him that. but unbeatable..." you quirk up one brow and wear a slight smirk for a moment before allowing your features to fall back to normal. then you tell tenko, "just give it time. one day i bet you'll be able to beat him. i believe in you!"

"you behavin' in here?" tomura suddenly appears in the entryway, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he casts his little brother a warning look.

"your girlfriend says she beat you in mario kart, is that true?" tenko blurts out, and you have to force yourself not to tease tomura when his cheeks visibly darken at the mention of you being his girlfriend.

"everything ok?" you ask to defuse the situation a little and put tomura back at ease, but then his look of bashfulness morphs into a look of slight surprise at the sight you and his little brother getting along so well.

quickly, he snaps out of it, and replies, "yeah. she was just checking in," before seeming to notice something awry about the picture here, specifically on tenko's side of the table.

"hey," tomura lightly scolds his brother. "you know mom only lets you have lemonade on the weekends." you immediately begin to apologize, saying that when he asked you thought it would be ok, and feel embarrassed that you let yourself be manipulated by a child, but tomura assures you it's fine before returning to interrogate his little brother who, admittedly, looks very guilty now.

"did you lie to her?" he presses, and for a moment you're afraid he'll make tenko cry. tenko denies it at first and you observe with growing anxiety as the argument between them ramps up a bit.

it isn't until you reach over to place a hand over tomura's, which has been firmly planted on the tabletop as he leans in over his brother, that he seems to simmer down a little.

"one time will be ok, won't it?" you ask him, not wanting to ruin the moment you'd just shared with tenko, feeling like you'd gained a little more of his trust. you use your secret weapon, the one thing tomura can never say no to whenever he sees it— that sweet, pleading stare you give as you gaze up at him, the look that makes his stomach flutter and his head haze over with thoughts he'll be revisiting later once he's alone.

"fine," he concedes, some of the rigidity that had captured his limbs leaving him as he steps away from the table. he looks directly at his brother and concludes with a warning, "but just this once."

you're relieved, and tenko appears to have returned to his prior state of unfazed contentment, but tomura still seems impatient about something.

"c'mon," he says, beckoning you up from the table to follow him back to his room. "we still have a game to finish."

you give tenko a parting smile before humming out an amused, lilting little note, trailing after tomura as you chirp out a mischievous remark of, "are you gonna actually help us win this time? or am I gonna have to carry the entire round again?"

he lets out an incredulous, albeit amused, chuckle, surprising you by throwing his arm around your shoulders and tugging you in closer to his side so you almost stumble down the hallway. "oh, just you wait..." brazen, he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and dark, now allowing the butterflies in your tummy to unfurl their delicate wings and take flight, "by the time we're done with this round, the other team isn't even gonna know what hit 'em..."

and, with that, you once again return to the confined space of his only slightly disheveled bedroom, the tv screen still bearing the scores from your last game. although, admittedly, as you continue to sit side by side, knees nudging one another here and there when things start to get a little too desperate or rowdy, you can't help but find yourself a little more distracted and self-conscious than usual.

because you swear you catch tomura glancing at you in between rounds from the corner of your eye, something softer, something warmer than you're quite used to possessing his crimson gaze.

it's a side to him you've rarely gotten to see, but you hope he'll learn to wear it a little more openly around you as time goes on.

besides, when his little brother had asked if you were his girlfriend, he hadn't quite said no, now had he?

#word count: 3600+#helloooo this has been in my drafts since the summer time oh my gosh #this is just a fluffy lil sfw piece btw #dont know if i'll end up expanding on it but i just think the thought of tomura and tenko being siblings is so cute T^T <3 #also I imagine this is like a friends to lovers type thing with tomura #and like you’re just on the cusp of actually dating but haven’t like done anything other than really hug and hold hands a little bit yet #like maybe it’s the summer before you guys are going off to college and you’re spending a lot of time together #and he plans on telling you how he really feels about you before the end of summer #anywaaaaaaaayyyyyy just wanted to finish this lil idea up because. yeah. its been sitting in my drafts for forever.#and i miss him <3 #drabble #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #tomura x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x y/n

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divineani · 3 days ago

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This is so breathe taking!

౨ৎ

was craving sammy today so i made this lazy drabble 😖

Sam Monroe x f!reader

summary: Sam's labret piercing keeps getting in the way during your make out. warnings: make out but the rest is somewhat fluff.

"Ow─ Sammy!" You huff, pulling away from the make out as his lip piercing keeps latching to your skin.

Sam was very dominant with you and liked taking control, which was the reason he left you to kiss his bottom lip while he greedily sucked on your top lip.

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, firmly gripping your hips to keep you from squirming too much while straddling his lap. "C'mon, that's like the third time. Sure you aren't being dramatic?" He playfully asks, brushing some hair out of your face and behind your ears.

With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you shook your head defensively. "No," The soft mumble came from your pouted lips, "Your stupid labret piercing keeps scratching me!"

Sam rolls his eyes at your attitude and defensive tone, knowing you weren't going to kiss him again without a solution. "Tsk... fine. You take my top lip while I take your bottom." Granting you the access to be in control, which was a one in a lifetime opportunity with Sam─he was far too greedy to pay attention to what you wanted. But if it was really bothering you, he'd cave. "Sound good?"

Your earlier grumpy attitude immediately washes away, nodding your head before diving straight in for his top lip. Your arms wrap around Sam's neck while his latches to your waist─keeping you positioned comfortably on his lap.

He had no problems with you being hungry for his kisses, but this was definitely the last time he'd let you take the top.

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #summer's drabbles #this is so alluring I swear #life as a house

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lovebugism · 2 years ago

Note

eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window.

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand.

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him.

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again.

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you.

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was.

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are.

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it.

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him.

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure.

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost.

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?”

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you.

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet.

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness.

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now.

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months ago

Note

Logan and Summers! Reader get married?

This is more Scott and his sister having a heart to heart as he walks her down the aisle! I hope you enjoy ᡣ𐭩

Scott can’t stop crying and it’s making you nervous.

“Would you quit it! You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.” You wipe his cheeks and then fan your face.

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’ve grown up.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight your own smile. “I’ve been grown up for a while, Scotty.”

He shrugs, linking your arm with his as you walk to the bottom of the aisle. “You’ll always be the little girl that watched cartoons on my laptop while I studied to me.”

You take a breath that sounds more waterlogged than either of you would’ve expected. “Scott,” he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Do you remember when you’d make a fort and ask for the laptop to watch them quietly ‘cause I needed to study?”

“I do. You were barely even a teenager worried over your books like they held all the secrets in the world.”

Scott laughs, goes to say something else but the music starts. “One last chance to run away. I came on my bike.”

You shake your head, spotting Logan with his back turned. You can’t wait to make it down this aisle.

“I really love him, Scott.”

He smiles, “He really loves you back.”

You eye him, “Does us getting married mean you’ll stop giving each other shit?” You ask as you begin your walk.

“Never. But I know he’ll always take good care of you, and love like it’s the easiest thing in the world even with your smartass mouth.”

You smile, “I love you, Scott.” You whisper the words as you get closer to Logan, his eyes shining as he turns to you.

“I love you too kid,” he kisses your forehead again as he gives you away to Logan, shaking his hand and failing to hide his grin at how much of a mess Logan is.

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motherearthlovesus · 7 months ago

Text

tanning and teasing (t.n)

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: ice cubes, bikini strings, and a smouldering sun leave you both heated and distracted

your fingers were sticky, your chin was sticky and the tip of your nose was sticky. the sun was melting your ice cream faster than you could eat it. “i love when you make a mess” theo teased. “i could cook an egg on the sand, how do you expect me to eat an ice cream gracefully?” you kept eating the melting ice cream, making everything stickier. you and theo were sitting on some rocks that stuck out beyond the shoreline. you couldn’t see anything behind you, it felt like you were sitting on the edge of the world. “i cant stand it”, he gestured for your hands, “let me clean you up”. he tried to wipe the melted ice cream off your hands and chin but it was too hot and the napkin was too dry. “ow, you’re just tugging at my skin theo”. “sorry piccola. how about this?” he smirked at you and took an ice cube out of his take-away cup and rubbed it on your hands to clean the ice cream off. you tensed at the coldness against your warm hand that had almost started to burn. after you were clean you finished your ice cream and rolled onto your stomach to start tanning. you propped your head up on a towel to start reading a book. “theo, can you untie my bikini top? i don’t want to get tan lines” you asked as though your voice was dripping with honey. without skipping a beat he pulled your bikini string and it fell off your back. you could feel the sun penetrate your skin, browning and burning each and every cell. you felt a jolt run down your back. theo was running an ice cube down it. “how’s that mi amore” he smirked at you. “cold and distracting theo” you rolled your eyes, turning back to your book ,and tried to ignore how that jolt ran down to your core.

ugh idk if i like this one

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago

Text

shirts off

for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round 'summer'

rated m | 966 words | no cw | tags: steve harrington has a big stupid crush on eddie munson, road trip, bad luck turned into a good situation, getting together, friends to lovers, implied sexual content

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

The tire popping was really only the start of the problems on this road trip.

The overwhelming heat and humidity was another.

Steve was trying to convince himself this road trip wasn't doomed, that it was just a short series of bad luck and everything from now on would be perfect. Eddie was grumbling as he tightened the lug nuts on the spare tire.

"You sure you don't need any help?" Steve asked him for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"If you ask me again, I'm leaving you here," Eddie replied, dropping the wrench on the ground and letting out a long sigh. "I'm done anyway. Please tell me there's cold water in the cooler."

Steve opened the cooler in the trunk and grabbed the last bottle of water they had for the road. Their plan was to stock up when they got to the beach, but clearly, they'd been derailed for longer than they hoped.

He handed it to Eddie, who proceeded to dump its entirety over his head.

"That was the last one," Steve said quietly, not wanting to admit that he hadn't planned for the worst.

Eddie looked up at him from the ground before closing his eyes and letting out an unamused laugh.

"We're still three hours away," Eddie complained. "We gotta stop at a gas station or something and grab a couple more. It's too fuckin' hot to not have water."

Steve was too busy staring at the way water was dripping down Eddie's neck to process anything he was saying.

"Hello? Earth to Harrington!" Eddie's fingers were snapping in his face, bringing him back from his daydream. He absolutely planned on blaming it on the heat. "Dude, you dehydrated or something?"

"Uh, yeah. Must be, sorry." Steve picked the wrench up off the ground and threw it in the trunk before slamming it shut and turning back to Eddie, who had his brows raised and an amused smirk on his face. "What?"

"Were you distracted by somethin', Stevie?"

Oh no. He'd gone all summer without Eddie being suspicious of anything. Nearly two months had gone by of Steve hiding his stupid crush that was probably a lot closer to love than he would admit out loud.

"Nope. Just hot," he gave a small smile before turning to the passenger door to open it. It was Eddie's turn to drive.

"I'm pretty hot, too," Eddie stood in his way, arms crossed over her chest. "You know what would probably help?"

Steve shook his head, but he could tell by the way Eddie was standing, so confident and knowing, this was going somewhere he wasn't prepared for.

"Ditching our shirts. Get some air on skin, ya know?"

"Right," Steve gulped. "I think once we get the air conditioner blowing, it'll be better."

"Sure, sure. But I'm all wet, and I wouldn't wanna get your seat wet. Might as well take it off until it's dry."

Steve watched as Eddie lifted his shirt off, throwing it in the open window into the backseat.

"I don't think it'll dry if it's bunched up like that-" Steve gasped as Eddie's hands gripped his hips, chests brushing together as Eddie's breath hit Steve's neck.

"I don't think I care, do you?" Eddie's low voice rumbled against Steve's skin. His lips were right there, grazing his pulse point.

Steve leaned his head back, offering himself up on a silver platter, hoping whatever was happening wasn't some heat-fueled daydream.

"So needy," Eddie groaned before licking a stripe up Steve's neck and nipping at his jaw. "Can't believe you didn't think I'd notice you staring for the last 20 minutes."

"I-" Steve couldn't fucking breathe. Eddie's hands were running up his sides, and his leg was pushing his own legs apart. "Eds, we're on the side of the road."

"A road no one has driven down in the last 20 minutes. It's fine," Eddie still pulled his head back, taking in Steve's ruffled appearance. "I'll stop if you're uncomfortable, though. Nothing we can't do when we get to the motel."

Steve's dick was already hard in his shorts, a fact that Eddie seemed to realize at the same moment as Steve.

"You can use my thigh. Take the edge off," Eddie offered.

"How the fuck am I gonna ride for three more hours in these shorts if I do that?" Steve wasn't completely opposed, he just wanted to see how far Eddie was willing to push.

"With the promise of being able to ride me for three hours when we get there," Eddie shrugged, completely nonchalant with what he was implying.

"Three hours? You think you can last that long?"

"For you? I can last all night, big boy." Eddie pushed his leg forward until it made contact with Steve's cock. "Wanna get one for the road though."

The heat was barely even a thought anymore as Steve rutted forward, knowing he wouldn't last long at all with Eddie's lips sucking a bruise into his shoulder.

He wasn't quiet, didn't even try to hold back.

It was the best thing he'd ever done, and he was still fully clothed.

When they got back in the car, Eddie handed Steve a bottle of water from the backseat. It was room temperature, but still refreshing.

"How long you been hiding water back there?"

"How long you been hiding your crush on me?" Eddie shot back.

Steve rolled his eyes, turning his face to hide his blush. "A while."

"I know, sweetheart." Eddie's hand covered Steve's knee as he pulled back onto the deserted road. "Don't have to anymore, though. I got you."

Steve's head fell back against the seat, turning over to stare at Eddie. He had a post-orgasm glow despite not getting off with Steve.

"Yeah, you do."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #warm up round #summer #drabble #getting together #friends to lovers

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easterbonnet · 16 days ago

Text

Barely Visible Blancmange

{{ you're staying at the burrow for the summer and the twins have already recruited you to play pranks on their younger brother ron }}

cw: arachnophobia, ron accidentally harasses y/n, protective fred & george, cuddling, platonic, playful insults, reader wearing f&g’s clothes, suggestive comment at the end but it’s lighthearted

. . .

Once upon a time it was a warm summer's evening in the English countryside. The sun drenched the wooden foundations of the Burrow, it's beams creaking in the gentle breeze. Acres of grass were starting to brown, the muddy puddles were starting to dry up, and the gnomes scuttled about the blooming hedges, awaiting their return, mischievously rubbing their palms together.

Huddled inside the charming abode was a bunch of lively redheads, pottering about and lounging in the afternoons laziness.

However, this summer there was a new addition.

“Y/N” the twins bellowed in unison, earning a whip from their mother’s tea towel, as an excited looking girl walked down the dirt path to the house. She waved at the unmistakable pair through the kitchen window as she approached, messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

They raced out the barn style back door, kicking the lower half open like a cowboy walking into a saloon.

“Well well well look what the cat dragged in”, Fred smirked, greeting the young girl, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“A pleasure as always”, George added, giving a mock bow and offering out his hand to her.

Y/n rolled her eyes but was not so secretly overjoyed to see her best friends again. “Never change” she muttered unhooking her bag from her shoulder and shoving it into Fred’s chest.

“Be a doll.” Y/n laughed watching Fred’s expression change to a lighthearted sneer at the idea of being her skivvy.

He was about to protest-

“Now now, what our guest wants, she shall receive” George intervened grabbing the bag, swinging it over his shoulder, looking mischievous.

The trio entered the kitchen, Mrs Weasley was muttering to herself about crumbs on the table from dinner time.

“Look what we found outside” the twins announced, gaining their mother’s attention.

“Oh y/n, dear! So nice to see you!” The plump witch gave a rosy grin and pulled y/n into a motherly hug.

“Fred, George, get the plates” she ordered, wasting no time.

They looked at each other clearly confused, “Mum, it’s 4'oclock… dinner was hours ago and tea isn’t until 7”

“Oh shush you, can’t have our lovely guest starving can we?” She wafted the tea towel at them yet again and hurried off to the cloth covered cabinet to retrieve the porcelain and cutlery.

“Oh really Mrs Weasley you don’t have to-“ the girl assured, looking around the cosy kitchen, she’d been here before over the summer but it never got any less charming. It had a way of feeling like home away from home.

“Nonsense, take a seat” Molly coddled.

Y/n sat down at the long wooden table awkwardly as Fred and George settled down on either side of her. It wasn’t long before her chipped plate was filled with pumpkin pasties and spuds.

The twins having nothing but the tablecloth in front of them.

“Eat up dearie” Mrs Weasley insisted.

She did as told.

“What about us?” Fred exclaimed watching his mother lay treat after treat on y/ns plate.

“Yeah! We got scraps for lunch!” George added looking put out.

Mrs Weasley tutted at them in response, then left the kitchen to see what Ginny was up to deeper into the Burrow.

“Glad to be shot of her” George whinged.

“She prefers you to her own children” Fred looked at Y/n.

She gave a weak smile, “She’s just being kind…" Y/n nibbled on the homemade fudge and took a bite of the toffees. Wiping her mouth on a red gingham piece of kitchen roll, she swallowed, "... anyway from what you've said in your letters, I’ve got a summer's worth of fucked up gizmos to catch up on. Lead the way boys” she pushed her plate back and got up from the chair, it squeaked across the cracked terracotta tiles. The twins smiled devilishly and bolted up the stairs taking them three at a time, y/n in tow.

They made such a racket storming up the steps, that Mr Weasley popped his head out of the little workshop window, he had filled with muggle things, holding a plug socket in his hand.

All three of the teenagers burst into the twins’ bedroom.

“Bloody hell”, she looked over at the mess of a room, neon pink splatters up the wall, singed curtains and a stack of skiving snack boxes.

“Brilliant isn’t it?” Fred said with a voila motion of this arm.

“Marvellous if I do say so myself” George added, throwing a piece of Peruvian instant darkness powder up and down in his palm casually.

“Uhhhh do I even want to know what that is?” She pointed wearily at a comically big ear hanging from the ceiling.

“Oh don’t mind that it’s just our extendable ear prototype”

“Uh huh…” she nodded at the two lunatics and made herself at home on George’s bed, she was just about to unpack when-

“WAIT-“

“DONT SIT THERE-“

SPLAT

There was a loud splattering noise and a cool oozing feeling where y/n was sitting.

“What. Was. That?” she gulped.

She got up slowly turning to look at where she was just seated… a bright pink splatter of… strawberry?

“Ah… you seem to have found our latest invention…” Fred managed to speak through laughter.

“… the b-barely-visible b-blancmange” George stuttered also laughing so hard he clutched his knee, almost dropping the instant darkness powder. He placed it down on the wooden bedside table, stained with inky fingerprints.

She looked down at the mushed pudding that was all over the now visible plate on the bed, as well as her blue jeans. “Really? An invisible dessert? Not your best work lads” she seethed trying to mop up the mess with her jacket.

“It’s not that bad, nothing a wardrobe change can't fix” George insisted opening their wooden wardrobe.

“Here” he passed her a George-sized knit jumper and Fred threw her a pair of his brown corduroys.

“Thanks” she mumbled not pleased at their antics.

They left the room leaving her to change alone.

“Friggin' gits… bloody blancmange, you’ve got to be kidding” she huffed to herself getting changed into the clean clothes. The jeans were slightly loose around the waist but did the job, and the jumper was instantly cosy and warm, smelling like if the twins were transfigured into a perfume bottle.

“Less of the git thank you very much” a voice shouted through the door, y/n glanced up at the large ear by the ceiling, it wagged as if being used.

Merlin did she love those boys, even despite their gremlin like behaviour.

Eventually they entered the room again, trying to get the pink stains out of George's bedding, making sure not to put them in the wash basket for their mother to find, as she'd have plenty of questions and was already annoyed at them over the trick wands they've been hiding.

The three of them sat cross-legged on the floor like a scheming seance.

George held up a wind up spider he pulled from a cardboard box under the bed “Ron’s been a moody bugger lately, think we should change that, don’t you agree Freddie?”

“As always Georgie, however one problem, if we ask Ron to come into the bathroom he’ll get suspicious.. if you asked… now that’s where this gets interesting”

“And why would I invite Ron into the toilet with me?” She gave them a concerned and suspicious look, not liking where this was going.

“Becuaseeeeee” he said as if it was obvious “you’ll plant this toy spider in the bath and he’ll flip his lid when he sees it”

“Ugh fine. How do I lure him in then, megamind?” Y/n went along with it.

“Ron’s a stickler for a damsel in distress, just bat your eyelids.. please y/n” Said George, gripping her arm as if begging.

“What’s in it for me?” she crossed her arms, utterly swallowed by the clothes she was borrowing.

“Unlimited snack boxes and first refusal on extra stock?” Fred bargained.

She put her hand out “deal”

The twins beelined for it at the same time, shaking it.

She grabbed the toy spider and snuck upstairs to the next level where Ron’s room was as well as a bathroom.

“Oh bum” she dropped the spider by accident and it scuttled away right into Ron’s room “No, You little bugger-“ she crawled after it along the wooden floorboards.

She suddenly heard thumps on the stairs. Probably the twins she thought.

“Oi! Get out! I’ll tell mum!!!” Ron stomped over to her crouched over form when suddenly she felt a hard kick on her arse.

“What the bleeding hell?” She bolted upright and rubbed the pain of her backside.

Ron went bright red and was just as shocked as her “I-i- y/n?!? I thought you were- but your clothes- George’s jumper- what?!? When did you get here?”

The twins came rushing in at the commotion,

“Bahahah got you again Ronnie boy” Fred chuckled.

“What?” Ron asked, utterly confused.

“The spider… you found it?” Added George, looking around.

“What spider!?” Ron jumped onto his bed with a little whimper and eyed the floor, shivering as if he felt bugs crawling over his skin.

“There’s no spider! It’s here” she held it up and Ron jumped back again.

The room was filled with chaos, the twins dying laughing, Ron on the verge of tears, a squirming spider and y/n’s bruised bum.

Y/n rubbed her arse where Ron kicked it. The twins stopped laughing immediately and instinctively stepped towards y/n with great concern.

“Hey what’s wrong?” Fred asked.

She relayed the events, making the twins wrap an arm each around her and glare at Ron.

“I didn’t- I only saw your clothes I thought you were George pulling another prank on me! I swear I didn’t- I didn’t- if I’d have known-“

“Back off Ron” George spoke up

“Yeah Ron!” Fred pitched in.

They escorted y/n out of time room and Fred grabbed the spider from her hands and threw it at Ron who squeeled and let out a sob.

“Don’t mind that prat”

“Yeah wait until we tell mum, she’ll be fuming”

The twins spoke.

She rested her head on Fred’s shoulder as they walked back to their room.

Once they reached the chaotic haven, George produced a fluffy pink cushion and sat it on the bed for her.

They all lounged on the quilt.

Cuddling and feeling protected in their arms, y/n rested her head on George’s chest and Fred leant his head on y/n’s tummy.

She fiddled with his fiery locks, twirling them around her fingers. The birds sang peacefully outside the open window as the sun began to set.

“Does it still hurt?” George whispered.

She nodded.

“Can rub it better if you want” Fred looked up at her smirking.

The three of them burst into a fit of lighthearted laughter, Y/n’s girly giggles tangled between their boyish chuckles.

Even Molly smiled from behind the closed door.

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