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kisssukuna33 · 13 hours ago

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Can i request Sukuna hyping up and being very devoted to his wife who is insecure about her body after having a baby?

Husband Sukuna comforting Wife reader who's insecure about her body after having a baby

"He finally went to sleep" Sukuna said letting out a big sigh of relief as he sat down on the couch beside you.

As much as it was a blessing, being first time parents really took a toll on you both. It's only been 2 months so far and the baby has pretty much changed your life upside down. The dark circles visible in both of your faces say that enough.

"He kept crying even after you left to check the restaurant this morning" a displeased sigh left your mouth matching your husband's.

"I told you to sleep woman" Sukuna said gently grabbing your face into his hands as he observed the dark circles under your eyes, a concerned expression taking over his face.

"Tell that to your son, he's the one keeping me up"

"That's why I told you to call me if he started to give you shit. That's it, I'm closing the restaurant for 3 more weeks" Sukuna said, no almost like he scolded you.

"You're going to lose customers if you keep closing it like this" You voiced your concern because you know Sukuna didn't spend time in the restaurant more than 4 days since you have given birth. Everytime he had to leave he looked at you like he's leaving you alone in a Battlefield.

"That's not something you have to concern yourself with, I pay the workers anyway" He got up from the couch as he went to your shared bedroom and came back with a bag in his hands.

"Besides I already earned enough for my family to be comfortable, you know that" He said as he put the bag in your hands.

"what's this?" You asked curiously taking a peek inside the bag. A dress. A gorgeous tube dress with a large flower in the middle and cut out from the sides. You can never compete with Sukuna's taste when it comes to choosing clothes. He knows what looks good on you everytime and you never doubted his taste until maybe now.

You have given birth only 2 months ago, your post pregnancy belly and the stretch marks surrounding it is still pretty much visible, not to mention you are completely a different size from before. You anxiously check the inside of your dress to see the size Sukuna bought you, in deep down you wanted to check if Sukuna also took notice in your change of weight. But for some reason the size tag has been ripped off from the dress already. That sly bastard.

"Wear it, We are going out for dinner. I already called Choso so he will babysit tonight" Sukuna said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hair. He wanted to make you happy, he really did. He didn't want you to remember the early part of your parenting journey as only stress. He thought maybe finally going out for dinner can be a good change for the both of you. But it didn't take him that long to notice the sour expression in your face.

"uh Kuna how about we-"

"No we are going, you have been inside the house for 2 months. You need this" he said in a stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

You sigh thinking of another way to not wear this dress.

"This looks expensive" That earned an eyebrow raise from Sukuna.

"of course it isn't. When the fuck have I ever bought you cheap shit?" Sukuna said like he's personally offended by your comment.

"That's not what i- Anyway maybe this is too much for a dinner" please work! Please work! You mentally chanted as you continued with the lie "I'm gonna save this for a special occasion".

Sukuna wore a dumb look on his face. Clearly trying to figure out what nonsense are you spouting because he can just buy you a new one? Like he always do?

You avoided meeting meeting Sukuna's gaze because that man can read you like a book.

"Woman what are you- And Why do you keep looking that way? Look at me" Sukuna said as he kneeled down in front you.

He cupped your face with one hand as he brought it closer to his face.

"spit it out"

You left out a sigh as you began telling him how you felt about your post pregnancy body and it didn't take long for Sukuna's face to drop. He felt like it was his fault that you felt this way. It's been few weeks since you two shared intimacy and Sukuna wasn't able to remind you how much devoted he is to your body even after you gave birth ( your doctor said 4 weeks of no sex but Sukuna being the protective husband he is, decided to wait atleast two months).

The moment you finished your explanation Sukuna picked you up into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently put you down the bed as he started to take off your shirt. You were a bit nervous at first but decided to let him do it anyway. The moment you see the scars visible in your belly you looked away hiding from Sukuna's gaze.

"Look at me, Don't look away"

Sukuna brought his face closer to your scars. First he ran his fingers through them. Like a blind man reading a book and touching it with care. Then his lips started to touch your skin. He kissed you softly slowly making his way around your scars. He kept bringing his eyes to yours reminding them to keep watching. Sukuna didn't miss a single scar, no. When he finally separated his lips from your body, you felt like he casted a spell on you. A purifying spell making all the negative energy around your body go away.

"You went through hell with the brat, those scars are reminders that how strong of a fight you put up. Scars or without scars you are still the same gorgeous woman I fell in love with 2 years ago" listening to Sukuna's words you can't help but let the tears fall down. How much lucky you must be to have this man in your life. If you could marry him again you would do it in a heartbeat.

"And don't you dare call my wife ugly I will fucking kill you"

That earned a giggle from your part as you smacked his chest playfully.

"Your wife must be a very lucky woman then" you murmured wrapping your arms around Sukuna's neck as you pull him into your embrace.

"Nah, I'm the lucky one"

#jjk x you #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk drabbles #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #sukuna x #sukuna fluff

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finchsflight · 2 days ago

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The most important thing, that a lot of people who want this kind of job don't get, is that you have to have an explanation.

And not some namby-pamby 'oh, you see, it was simply up my sleeve, ha ha let's all pretend this didn't happen!'. No, you need a proper, actual, well-thought-through explanation.

(At least, for the kids I show off for. If the parent didn't ever bother getting their kid into the business, or explaining tricks -- eh, you're probably fine. But if they didn't explain the tricks, well, they wouldn't need us, would they?)

The kids -- usually, at least, that I see -- want magic. But half the time they're too smart for their own good, and there's no one who'll think you're a real wizard like a little kid. They want you to be a real wizard. But you need them to think you're just really, really good.

(Y'know. On account of how we don't endanger kids. And if that's an issue for you, then I've got a big stick and you have some fun places I can shove it.)

So that's the first thing. Explanation. Every trick you've got, you better be good and prepared for them to ask you about it, in detail, at the end of the show, and if you don't have good answers, it breaks. Yeah, yeah, a magician never reveals their secrets, but little kids hate being condescended to and they'll have a great time if you show them the props and the 'real magic' behind the magic. Yes, yes, I know, it sounds stupid.

The second thing is, you're showing off, but you're not showing off. Big elemental stuff? Usually a no-no, even if you've got a good and sciency explanation. Partially because, like... if you're doing a science show, you don't need a wand. You can just go buy some liquid nitrogen. World's neat enough as is. And partially because -- look, you're a delight. But listen. You are never as good at lying to small children as you think you are, okay?

If you're gonna need an explanation, well, that means you need explainable stuff. Me, I like kinda theming things off human magicians -- you know, cards, ribbons, vanishing boxes, sleight-of-hand style stuff. A few flashy lights. That sorta thing. They love seeing a card trick that's just impossible enough to be amazing and just possible enough to be explained.

Works to add some things they can actually recognize, too; then they get a little moment where they get to feel like they've got one over on you.

And that leads pretty well to my last one.

Eventually, a kid's gonna ask you how you did something, and you're gonna give your made-up bullshit explanation that you will have gotten really good at delivering, and then either they're gonna say "That's not possible," or they're gonna ask you if you can teach them.

And you're gonna not be able to dismiss it, or you're not gonna be able to say 'sorry, I need to go', and there's gonna be a little kid who figures out that you're a wizard.

Remember what I said? How we don't endanger kids?

This is the part where that gets important.

Feel free to remember them, bookmark their name for when they grow up 'cause you think they might be a good apprentice, whatever. But you do not recruit kids.

And you already know that. So you're not gonna like what I'm about to say, because yes, it's gonna feel icky and terrible and it is, technically, about as illegal as anything can be when you're behind the -- what's the word for it these days?

Masquerade? Oh, man, that's so much better than it used to be. Nice.

Anyway.

Learn how to muddle a kid's memories.

Yeah. I know.

No, I don't like it either.

Only a few times. Thank God.

There's a trick I use, though -- and also makes it a lot less icky -- build a time limiter. Make a spell up, on your own, that is inextricably tied to a time limiter. Make it so it breaks when they're... remind me, what's, like, an age where kids are allowed to make bad choices?

Jesus. That's too young.

Well, let's say, uh... twice that? Twice that. That seems fine.

Don't make it something flashy. Just... let the memories fade back in. And after that, if they find you, it's not a kid, and they can make their own bad choices.

Yeah, I know.

I said it wasn't always a fun job. Wasn't just talking about the bodily fluids -- oh, yeah, that too. They're totally gonna get things on you. Snot, vomit, blood... small children end up bleeding a surprising amount, honestly?

Sure, yeah, I can teach you some cleaning cantrips.

When normal people throw a birthday party for their child, they call in a magician. When magicians throw a birthday party for their child, they call you.

#*ahem.* anyways #finch writes #the vague urban fantasy idea

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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago

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𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚

a/n: happy valentine’s day, my beloveds!!! i love all of you so, so much. like, so much. if i could, i’d send you all glitter-covered valentine’s cards and the biggest, warmest hugs. i hope today is kind to you, whether you’re spending it with someone, treating yourself or just chilling. you deserve all the love in the world. Bill’s and Fiddleford’s parts are coming bit later, but in the meantime, i hope you enjoy Stan and Ford. take care of yourselves, and remember: you are so, so loved 💖

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚

the first thing Stan does on valentine’s day is complain. “ugh,” he groans as he gets out of bed, rubbing his back. “it’s valentines and i wake up feeling like i got hit by a bus.”

you raise an eyebrow when you see him coming downstairs to the kitchen. “you say that every morning, Stan”

“yeah, but today it’s worse. i swear.”

you tilt your head, thinking. “i could give you a massage?”

just one simple innocent offer and Stanley Pines, full-grown conman, ex-criminal, self-proclaimed tough guy, goes absolutely red. “uh—what? no, i don’t need—” he coughs, turning away. “not like—i mean—“

you smirk. ”so that’s a yes?”

“that's a no!” he grumbles, turning away and heading out of the room, all red and embarrassed.

later, after hours of pacing, making frustrated noises and trying to convince himself that this is a stupid holiday and why does he even care, while also trying to figure out how to ask you on a date without looking like a complete idiot. . .

Mabel is busy hanging out with Candy and Grenda, so he turns to Dipper, which is a mistake.

Dipper, who was in the middle of reading Stanford's journal, looks up at him. “so, essentially, grunkle Stan, what you need is a multi-step plan.”

Stan is horrified. “a what?”

“a plan,” Dipper continues, flipping to a fresh page. “a strategic approach. first, we gather data. then, we make a list of optimal date locations. i’m thinking greasy’s diner, because statistically—“

Stanley just groans, dragging a hand down his face and that's when he realises something. he’s overthinking this. he’s sitting here, talking to his nerd nephew, listening to plans and lists, when he’s never needed a damn plan before in his life. what the hell is he doing??

“okay, nope, nevermind. kid, i’m just gonna take ‘em to a diner.”

“wait, what?” Dipper frowns. ”but you need a PLAN!”

”the plan is the diner.”

“wait, grunkle Stan! i was getting to the part about psychological profiling!“

so that’s how Stanley Pines ends up standing in front of you, very awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh. you, uh. wanna go to greasy’s with me. for a date. or whatever.” the moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to die.

and now he wants to die much more because you just smiled at his words and nodded. “yeah. . . yeah, i’d love to!”

the date is going great, which means Stan wants to run. you are too beautiful. it’s pissing him off. especially when light catches your face, when you laugh, when you keep tilting your head while listening to him ramble about whatever, even though he’s pretty sure he’s not making sense.

his heart is pounding. “soo, uh, you, uh. you ever been arrested?”

in response he gets a full-on, unattractive, choke-on-your-own-spit kind of snort from you, what makes him look so proud of himself.

“okay, ice broken,” he thinks. “we’re doin’ great. yeah.”

Stanley hates himself for it but you are too beautiful and funny. and it is ruining his life. he’s sweating. literally sweating. he tries to make small talk and immediately forgets how to speak like a human being.

he’s gonna run.

he's gonna find some dumb excuse, say he left the stove on, pretend to trip and fall out the window. but what he doesn't know is that he's not the only one who's nervous, you’re both so awkward it’s ridiculous. Stan keeps tugging at his collar. you keep fidgeting with your hands, stuttering and avoiding eye contact

suddenly, even to yourself, you stand up. “non specific excuse!!” after announcing that, you flip the entire damn table over and run out of the diner.

Stan watches this happen in slow motion and, without thinking, he jumps up, pointing at you.

“now that’s my kind of person!" he yells to people at the diner as he runs after you.

you’re both running through the empty gravity falls streets, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. when he finally catches up, you both collapse against a wall, panting.

“i can’t believe you just did that, wow!” Stan wheezes.

“well, i can’t believe you chased me,” you shoot back.

you’re both just grinning at each other like idiots. Stan looks at you and damn, he’s so in love it’s stupid.

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅

there’s glitter in your hair and Ford notices this first, because there’s glitter everywhere, on the floor, on the couch, on him.

“Mabel,” he says slowly, lifting a sleeve coated in shimmering specks. “what exactly have you done?”

Mabel, who is sitting across from you, shrugs, completely unbothered. “we're making valentine’s day masterpieces, obviously.”

you grin, lifting a small, glittery pink heart with messy writing scrawled across it. “see? Mabel’s making some for her friends. im just helping her!”

oh, damn, that adorable smile of yours. . . Ford clears his throat, though his ears turning noticeably pink. “oh. well. that’s very sweet of you.”

before you can say anything, he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Mabel alone together.

some time pass and what started with nail polish, somehow escalated to homemade friendship bracelets with Mabel telling you about all boys she met in Gravity Falls, avoiding Gideon's name, you smile at her because that girl looks so cute cutting out ridiculous little shapes with her tongue sticking out.

“you think waddles would like a card?” Mabel asks, tapping her chin. “or do you think pigs don’t understand the concept of romance?”

“i think waddles would eat the card,” you reply, flicking a bit of glitter at her.

“you are so right!”

suddenly, you hear very familiar voice from the kitchen. “no— waddles!! no! bad pig! shoo! go away!”

Mabel screeches so loud your eardrums nearly rupture. “Ford and Waddles interaction?! i need to see this!”

you dont even have time to react as she launches herself across the room, screaming your name over and over in excitement.

“off the counter! off the counter now!”

you're a curious person, so when you finally peek in you see Ford half-bent over the kitchen table, trying desperately to shield something from Waddles, who is aggressively attempting to munch on a piece of paper.

“uncle Ford!” Mabel yells, “why are you yelling at my baby??”

Ford jerks up. “i—i. . .”

Mabel’s eyes catch sight of the now slobber-covered valentine’s day card and she gasps again, so loud you cover your ears.

“OH. MY. GOSH.” she whips back toward you, pointing dramatically. “go. go away. go to the living room and act like nothing happened!”

you want to stay here longer, trying to see what is going on there, but Mabel keeps pushing you. “do not question me, just go!”

Ford looks mortified. you, very confused, decide to listen to Mabel and back out. when you sit down on the glitter-covered floor, you still hear their voices, because Mabel just doesn't know what does “talking quiet” means.

“oh my gosh, uncle Ford!” from the kitchen comes the unmistakable sound of a chair scraping across the tile, a very panicked grunt, and what is possibly the sound of an envelope being hastily shoved under something. “i knew it! you were making a valentine’s day card!! oh my GOSH, i knew it!! i knew you had a crush on—“

“MABEL!!”

“i can’t believe this, holy llama socks, you’re actually doing something romantic!”

“shh!! keep your voice down!! what if—“

“what color was the glitter? tell me right now. was it pink? was it gold?! it was gold, wasn’t it?!”

there’s a very long pause. then, Ford mutters, “. . .it was gold.”

Mabel squeals. ”uncle Ford, you have to give it to them, please please please!”

“i can’t do that!”

“ughh, why not?!”

Ford sounds so exasperated you can picture him running both hands down his face. “because that is embarrassing! i. . . Mabel, i can't do that.”

”but you wrote them something sweet, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU??”

“Mabel, sweetie, please.”

“you are so lucky i have a strong sense of mystery, uncle Ford, i would never, ever reveal your deepest secrets. no matter how much they might want to know. even if they asked very nicely. even if they bribed me with candy. even if they looked so, so beautiful today!”

and god, Mabel acts so suspicious for hours. she side-eyes you at dinner, she hums conspicuously when Ford walks past, she does wiggly eyebrows. it’s a whole thing! but she doesn’t tell you why, and by the time the day winds down, you nearly forget. . .

until later that night, when the house is quiet, you find a folded pink valentine’s day card tucked neatly beside your pillow.

the front has a little hand-drawn equation that you don’t totally understand, but something about it makes you smile.

the inside reads, in Ford’s impeccable cursive handwriting:

“of all the possible realities, i’m grateful to exist in this one with you ♡ ”

and underneath, a little scrawled postscript “p.s. please ignore the bite mark on the corner. i had to fight for my life against a pig today.”

#this is so stupid im sorry i actually hate this #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #ford pines x reader #gravity falls smut #stanford pines #stan pines x reader #grunkle stan #stan pines #stan pines x you #stanley pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #valentines day

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wcnderlnds · 3 days ago

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the heart wants what it wants | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he hates himself but you kinda, sorta love him. ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: usual squid game stuff, swearing. ・❥・ authors note: as if i was gonna leave my boy thanos out of valentines fics. here's something a lil fluffy while still (hopefully) in character for him.

“What’re you sitting there looking like someone just pissed in your cereal for? And don’t try and tell me it’s because of that last game or whatever because I know that’s bullshit.”

Thanos’ voice pierced through your ears as he sat down beside you on the steel stairs between the bunks. His arms rested on his knees, hands dangling between his open legs as he looked at you expectantly. That was Thanos down to a tee – he needed to know everything immediately, patience wasn’t his strong suit. It frustrated him when he didn’t get answers. You had known this man for far too long to know the signs. The way he was clenching his jaw, his fingers tapping against his leg.

“...I don’t want to tell you because you’ll laugh at me,” you mumbled, head resting on your arms that were crossed over your pulled up knees.

“Come on, spit it out,” he waved his hand, dismissing your worries. “I probably will laugh but since when did that shit bother you?”

He was right. You never cared before so why now? Well, you knew why. Being trapped in this place with him had resurfaced something you had thought you’d got rid of a long time ago. When you had first met Su-bong, you had the world’s biggest crush on him but he had turned you down, telling you that you should just be friends so… that’s what you were. Now, eight years on and that all consuming crush was back. You were trapped in a life or death game with him, he’d been protecting you and making sure that no harm fell on you. His hand grabbed yours at any opportunity like he just had to be touching you to make sure you were still here. You had never seen so much panic in his eyes than the moment you had almost fell in Red Light, Green Light. Luckily, he had managed to grab your arm to stop you from meeting your end. Su-bong wasn’t someone that wore his heart on his sleeve but when he cared, he cared. That was one thing you were certain of; he cared about you. There were ways he showed it without saying it. Like now, he had come to sit with you, asking you what was going on even if it was in his own annoying way. He had to act like he didn’t care otherwise it would consume him, his anxiety would sky rocket. That was why he was popping those colourful little pills. They may make him act insane but inside they calmed him, made him think clearer so he could protect you.

“Fine,” you sighed. “...it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just sad I’m stuck in here and not enjoying some chocolate covered strawberries fed to me by some super hot person. Happy now?”

Thanos couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, nudging you with his shoulder. “That’s why you’re feeling sorry for yourself?” He narrowed his eyes, examining you before he decided you weren’t telling him the full truth. A quick shuffle and he was sitting right beside you, his leg touching yours. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. It was unusually soft for him but he had these moments with you sometimes. The only person who wouldn’t judge him was you, that was something he knew for certain. “You ain’t tellin’ me the whole story so I’m gonna need you to get that pretty mouth of yours talking more before I go get Nam-su to come glare at you with those beady little eyes of his.”

“You know his name is Nam-gyu, right?” You rested your head on his shoulder, nervously wringing your hands together. Thanos noticed almost immediately, placing a hand on them to stop you. “Remember when we first met? When… uh, when I had a crush on you and your turned me down?”

“Yeah, how could I forget?”

“Well, I might be feeling that way again.”

At those words, he froze up. His body tense, panic flashing across his eyes. Yeah, you shouldn’t have said anything. He would only close himself off now and that was the last thing you needed right now. He had been your whole support system here. The silence between you was almost deafening until he finally spoke. “...you shouldn’t.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Wish it was that easy, Su-bong.”

“You wanna know why I turned you down all those years ago?” He had pulled away from you slightly, both his hands now resting on your shoulders as he made you look at him. “Because you fuckin’ deserve better than me. I’m a mess. I’ve always been a mess. I’m no good, especially not for you. Someone like you? You deserve the fuckin’ world and I can’t give you that. I wish I could but I can’t. You need someone who can treat you like the princess you are but, baby, that man ain’t me.”

If it wasn’t anyone else, they wouldn’t have caught the waver in his voice, the way he was looking at you as if pleading for you to listen to him. He meant every word he said but you didn’t. You knew he often got lost in his self loathing thoughts, thinking that he was scum of the Earth but he wasn’t. He was just a lost boy, someone had never had someone care about him like you.

“I don’t care, Su-bong. My heart knows what it wants and it wants you. It isn’t going to stop. It’s been eight years and it’s always felt this way. You are everything to me, you always have been. I wish you could see in yourself what I see in you,” your hand cupped his cheek, the gesture so soft he almost nuzzled into your palm but refrained. “Sure, you’re not perfect but neither am I. I’ll respect whatever you want but… just know that my heart belongs to you.”

His eyebrows scrunched together as if he was in deep thought, one of his hands playing with the chain of the necklace that hung around his neck. His cross; the one that contained his drugs. It looked like he was in an internal conflict with himself before, finally, he pulled the necklace over his head and onto you. You felt your heart pounding as his fingers skimmed across your chest, making sure the cross laid properly. “You’re a damn pain in my ass, you know that? But… I’ve been into you the day we met, just thought you deserved more than I can give you. So, this is my promise to you to show you that I trust you, that maybe I’ll try and be the person you deserve some day. Ain’t never let anyone wear this other than me, by the way.”

The gesture meant more to you than you could even put into words, your heart hammering against your chest as he tapped the cross. You smiled up at him, hand resting over his. “The highest honour, huh?” You couldn’t help but tease to at least ease some of the tension. “It means a lot… and Su-bong? I believe in you.”

You heard the small, breathy laugh that came from his lips as he looked at the ground trying to hide it. That meant more to him than you would know. Finally, he looked back up at you, his arm back around your shoulder to pull you back into his side. “We get out of this shithole and I’ll feed you all the damn chocolate strawberries you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

As you rested your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on yours, you knew that once you got out of here things were definitely going to change but it gave you something to look forward to. His promise the one thing that would get you through these deathly games.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey @infinetlyforgotten

#choi su bong x reader #thanos x reader #choi seunghyun #choi su bong #squid game x reader #my fics

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days ago

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uh oh, feelings

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event 'it's complicated'

rated e, 18+, minors dni | 4,512 words | cw: open ending, steve/gareth sex | tags: established steddie, NOT cheating they're all super cool and fine with this, eddie watches, virgin gareth, first time, bottom steve, top gareth, blowjob, anal fingering, anal sex, left open on purpose because i'm insane and might continue it

also on ao3

◼️⬛◾▪️◼️⬛◾▪️◼️⬛◾▪️

“Dude. You’re making me sad.”

Gareth groans. “I don’t care. I feel pitiful.”

“That’s ‘cause you are,” Eddie pushes his shoulder. It’s playful, but there’s a hint of actual annoyance in it and Gareth doesn’t want that. “There’s, like, a whole crowd of women out there who would fuck you if you asked.”

“I don’t want the whole crowd of women. I want one woman, maybe two.”

“You’re not going from zero to two. So knock down your expectations a little,” Eddie starts. “Also, just throwing this out as an option: plenty of men would be interested in you, too.”

“Yeah? Like who?” Gareth scoffs.

It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it. He has. Plenty of times. More often than he’d ever admit to anyone, especially Eddie.

“I dunno. Steve?”

Gareth blinks once, twice.

“Steve who?” He only knows one Steve and that Steve is very taken by the man hounding him about his virginity right now.

Eddie throws the pillow he’s holding at Gareth. “My boyfriend, Steve! ‘Steve who?’ Fuck, dude, how many Steves do you know?”

“I dunno! Sorry for not assuming you want me to sleep with the love of your life I guess!”

“Everyone wants to sleep with Steve,” Eddie shrugs as if he’s cool with everyone wanting to sleep with Steve.

“Not everyone,” Gareth insists, but he’s not actually sure. Steve is the hottest guy they know. “I don’t think.”

“But you do.”

Gareth stays silent. This feels like a trap. He doesn’t think Eddie would get pissed or anything if he admits it, but he doesn’t want Steve to find out.

“It’s okay if you do. Steve would totally fuck you.”

Gareth’s mouth drops open. “He would not.”

“He would,” Eddie nods. He’s smirking like he’s teasing, but Gareth thinks he’s actually being very serious right now. “Ask him.”

“I’m not gonna ask your boyfriend if he’d fuck me!”

“Don’t ask him outright!” Eddie throws his arms up. “Jesus, no wonder you’re a virgin. Flirt with him, see if he flirts back.”

“Is this some kinda fucked up friendship test?” Gareth stands and starts pacing. Steve will be on the bus any minute and there’s no way he should hear any of this conversation. He’ll cut off Gareth’s balls for even suggesting he cheat on Eddie. He’ll hang them out the tour bus window while Gareth dies on the floor and post an ad for a drummer at their next stop. “Or are you testing Steve? I’m not gonna be a part of that, man. Steve loves you and I’m not getting in the way-“

“Dude. It’s not a test. Get it out of your system and then maybe you can focus on something other than your miserable state of existence,” Eddie walks to his bunk and Gareth is reminded immediately that they’re all sleeping on the bus tonight. Eddie’s plan isn’t gonna work.

“It can’t be tonight,” Gareth is surprised at his own words, shocked that he’s apparently entertaining the idea of fucking Steve. Getting fucked by Steve? “Is Steve a top or bottom?”

Eddie laughs loud enough to make Gareth flinch.

“You’ll find out soon.”

~~~

Soon is two days later, when they finally have a two day break so they can stay in a hotel. None of them stray far, always choosing to be in adjoining rooms and getting room service instead of trying to go out. It’s just easier; no worrying about being seen by fans or trying to book enough security for them to stay safe.

Goodie and Jeff are in the hot tub downstairs, probably trying to pick up chicks, so naturally Gareth is sitting in Eddie and Steve’s bed while they finish their dinner. He’s not worried about being a third wheel, especially not since Eddie told him that Steve would fuck him. He’s still not sure he would.

“Steve, you’ve taken most of Hawkins’ virginity, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, huffs a ‘smooth’ under his breath. Steve doesn’t even flinch. He finishes chewing, swallows, and sits back in the rolling chair he insisted on staying in while he ate.

“I wouldn’t say most. A good chunk,” Steve smirks. “Why? Trying to take someone’s virginity?”

“Yeah. Mine.”

Gareth slaps his hand over his own mouth. He feels absurd. He feels like he might puke. He thinks his heart is trying to escape his body via his throat or maybe his ass. He’s unsure if gravity is involved at all, actually.

“You’re a virgin?” Steve chokes on nothing. “Eddie, you didn’t tell me he’s a virgin.”

“I didn’t know you needed to know this about my best friend,” Eddie laughs, ignores the way Gareth is watching them with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe I couldn’t tell,” Steve is shaking his head, looking more disappointed with himself by the second. Gareth isn’t sure what to make of it. He thinks he’s supposed to feel ashamed, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “I can spot them from a mile away.”

Eddie snorts, but doesn’t comment. He’s stuffing his face with his dinner, and Steve’s eyes are focusing on Gareth in a way he isn’t familiar with from anyone, let alone…Steve.

“Uh…how exactly do you know from looking at someone?” Gareth dares to ask.

“Oh, it’s easy. I can’t tell you, but you might figure it out soon,” Steve answers, shoving another bite into his mouth and then standing up.

“How will I figure it out?”

“Because you won’t be a virgin anymore.”

“O…kay?”

There’s no way it’s this easy, right? There’s no way Steve is offering to fuck him and there’s no way Eddie’s just okay with it.

“Eddie, what’s your color on this?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks between them for a moment. “Green,” Eddie smirks. “But I’m watching.”

“Watching what?” Gareth knows what. He can’t believe it’s happening, but he knows.

“You cool with fucking me? Or do you prefer me fucking you? I’m good either way.”

Straight to business it seems. Gareth is chubbing up a little already. What the fuck is going on?

“Yeah, uh.” Gareth swallows around his nerves. He performs in front of thousands of people every night. He can fuck Steve Harrington. “Yeah, I can fuck you. That’s good. Cool.”

Steve raises a brow, looks to Eddie, then back to Gareth. “Is it because he’s gonna watch?”

Gareth shakes his head. He’s fine with that part. Honestly, it might help keep him from throwing up if Eddie’s there. Eddie’s seen him in every state of undress, and every emotion, and he trusts him more than anyone else.

“Is it because it’s me?” Steve steps closer. Gareth’s asshole tightens. It happens when he’s nervous, okay? It’s like fight or flight, except no matter what he chooses, nothing’s getting in his asshole or out of it.

“I mean, it’s not not because it’s you. I’d be nervous about anyone. I guess it’s just…like you do realize that you’re with Eddie, right?”

Eddie and Steve both laugh and it makes Gareth feel dumb.

“Yeah, I do. I love him a hell of a lot,” Steve finally says. “And he loves me a lot. And we both love you and want you to stop moping.”

“You’re not in love with me though?” Gareth has to clarify. He loves Eddie, and he loves Steve, but not like that.

“No, dude,” Eddie exclaims. “Neither of us wanna make you a third. You just need to get over this thing in your head that losing your virginity is the end all be all of your life or something. I can’t stand the face you make anymore. Steve’s sick of me complaining. We love you in the way where if we have to see that face anymore, we’ll bury your body on the interstate so.”

“Right. Okay.” Gareth nods because that makes sense. It’s hard to figure out how this is gonna work later on, after he’s seen Steve like this, after Eddie’s seen him like this. “So, we’re doing this.”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. He gets close enough to pull Gareth into him, kisses the corner of his mouth as a test.

It’s a little weird, but that’s because he was under the impression they wouldn’t kiss. He assumed this was a get in, get out situation. Get the job done and move on. He didn’t expect it to be soft.

“C’mon,” Steve whispers as he pulls back, smiling encouragingly at him. He takes his hand and leads him to the bed. “You know how to get me ready?”

Gareth nods. He’s messed around with himself plenty of times to know what to do, what feels good, what’s too much. He doesn’t know what Steve likes, but he can figure it out as he goes.

Steve takes his shirt off. Eddie groans.

“You look so good,” he groans. “I wanna touch you, too.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Not now. Let Gare have this, baby.”

“He can…he can touch you. If you want,” Gareth says. “I dunno if I want him to touch me, though.”

Eddie’s hand goes to his chest dramatically. “No? My nimble fingers aren’t good enough? Fine!” He smirks. “I’m good just watching. This is for you. I get to touch him all the time.”

Steve is slipping his pants off quietly, letting them have this moment.

“Normally, I’d make you take my clothes off, but I think you know how to do that,” Steve teases. “Unless you’re unfamiliar with this model of jeans.”

“Levi’s?” Gareth takes his own shirt off. “Half my closet is thrifted Levi’s, dude.”

And then they’re both standing in just their underwear. Gareth’s in boxers that he doesn’t remember washing in his last round of laundry, and Steve’s standing there in the tightest gray underwear Gareth’s ever seen, already half-hard.

His dick is huge. Like, way bigger than Gareth’s, maybe also Eddie’s. He’d need to see them both at once to compare, but-

“We’re gonna use colors, even though it’s not a scene, okay? Just so you’re comfortable. Red is stop, yellow is pause, green is good. Use them anytime. If Eddie sees something I miss, he’ll ask you randomly, okay?” Steve pulls his underwear off.

He’s just…naked. Comfortably standing in front of Gareth with his dick out and leaning to the left, getting harder the more Gareth watches him. Who knew Steve was into being watched?

Gareth drops his boxers and he is fully hard. Achingly so. His dick pulses when Steve’s eyes drop down to get a look. Steve’s lips curl up into a smile.

He walks up to him, drops to his knees, and gets his hand around the base. Gareth’s breath catches.

Steve licks a stripe up his dick, sucking the head into his mouth before he takes him all the way down.

“Jesus,” Gareth moans. He’s got pretty good stamina when it’s just him. His dick is sensitive, but he knows how to edge himself. He kinda likes doing it on nights when they’ve got a hotel. He can shove his face into the pillow and get himself close four, five, six times before he shakes apart. He doesn’t know if he can hold back with his dick leaking down Steve’s throat. “Do you not have a gag reflex? Fuck.”

Steve smiles around him somehow, and Eddie is trying hard not to make noise, but Gareth can hear him huffing a laugh against his hand.

Steve pops off for a moment, looks up at him with a grin. “You can touch me.”

Right. His hands immediately go to Steve’s hair, threading through the locks and pulling him in again. He’s under no impression that he’s in control here. He’s just gonna try to keep both hands on the steering wheel while Steve hits the gas pedal.

His fingers tighten when Steve’s tongue swirls around his tip. Steve moans. The vibrations are enough to make Gareth’s legs feel weak.

“Shit. Bed, bed, bed,” he’s saying as he tugs Steve off of him and to his feet. He crushes his lips to Steve’s, any lingering doubt in his mind that this was gonna ruin their friendship long gone. He’s gonna fuck Steve and make him feel good, and Steve’s gonna return the favor, and then he’s gonna keep annoying Steve for the rest of time.

He could throw Steve on the bed, but Steve’s faster. He pushes Gareth down on his back, straddles his hips, and pushes his hands above his head.

Shit, that’s hot.

“How am I gonna get you ready if you have my hands way up there?” Gareth is nothing if not a little shit.

But Steve is also a little shit.

“You’ll figure it out,” Steve’s ass is brushing against his dick and he’s trying not to think about how it will feel inside him. But the more he thinks about not thinking about it, the more he realizes he’s gonna be inside Steve very soon. His restraint is flying out the window and up the street.

He feels Eddie’s eyes on them, but he’s decidedly not thinking about what he might be doing. If it were him in Eddie’s shoes, he’d be jacking it relentlessly.

Gareth is pretty strong. Like, he plays drums every day. Got used to lugging equipment around before they had people who did that for them. Started lifting weights occasionally when no one was watching. He likes being strong, he likes the way his muscles ripple when he’s beating the hell out of his snares and cymbals, angry but beaming from ear to ear.

He likes the way Steve moans when he throws him off of him, switching their positions in less than two seconds.

He doesn’t feel the need to say anything. Steve’s blushing, a pretty pink color across his face and neck, and his lips are swollen from sucking his dick and biting his own lips. Seeing Steve like this is life-changing.

It’s not a falling in love moment, but it’s a moment where he can see why Eddie did.

There’s always a certain charm floating around Steve, and it shifts now, while he’s under Gareth. It’s brighter, damn near blinding. Steve’s glittering gold, intensely blazing as Gareth’s hands run down his chest and sides. He adjusts so he’s sitting between Steve’s legs, pushing them back.

He hears Eddie groan from a few feet away. He’s ignoring it.

“You guys have lube?” Gareth asks.

Eddie throws a bottle on the bed.

“Thanks.”

Stupid of him to assume they went anywhere without some. They fucked like rabbits. He’s pretty sure if Steve could get pregnant, he would have had at least two accidental babies by now.

Gareth stares at the bottle in his hand.

“Still green?” Steve asks quietly.

“Yeah, sorry.” Gareth opens the bottle and uses entirely too much. It’s a different brand than he uses, and he’s nervous, and he can feel two sets of eyes watching his every breath and it’s- “Yellow.”

Steve sits up and takes the bottle from him. He hears Eddie step closer for a moment, as if he’s gonna try to fix it even though he isn’t technically involved in any of this.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, soft, careful. Unlike any way he ever talks to Gareth.

He kinda hates it. He likes when Steve’s a bitchy know-it-all to him. He likes when Steve gets frustrated at the way he pretends to be dumber than he is about band stuff.

“I just need a minute, I think,” Gareth admits. “This is a lot.”

“Okay,” Steve waves Eddie off and places both hands on Gareth’s face. It’s intimate. It blocks the outside world from view. It feels like it’s just them right now. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you wanna stop. It’s not me, it’s you.”

Gareth snorts. There’s the bitchy Steve he’s always loved.

“I don’t wanna stop. I just realized I’m fucking my best friend’s boyfriend while he watches and it’s taking me a second to wrap my head around that being a normal thing,” Gareth explains. He’s ignoring the way Steve’s dick is rubbing against his. He said yellow, so they have to stay paused until he’s mentally good to go. He knows that much.

“Should Eddie not watch?” Steve asks. As if Eddie would allow Gareth to fuck Steve without being there.

“No, that’s-” Gareth sighs. “I don’t care if he watches. It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah. You’re doing good, though.”

The praise sinks deep into his skin, courses through his veins. He isn’t able to hold back a whine. Holy shit, where did that even come from?

Steve looks thrilled.

“Oh. Well, this is interesting,” Steve says around a smile. “Didn’t think it would go like this.”

“Like what?”

Gareth feels unmoored. Something’s shifted. The entire room feels darker, heavier.

“Stevie, be nice,” Eddie says from a chair. Gareth didn’t even know there was a chair in the corner.

“I am being nice,” Steve doesn’t look away from Gareth. “This is just shocking information and I’m taking it in. Learning. Growing.”

“What information?”

“We won’t do anything with it tonight. But we’ll talk about it after. You gotta stay safe if you decide to try anything with someone and I won’t let someone hurt you.”

“Try what?”

“Later,” Steve pats his cheek and lays back again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m right here. Take your time, honey.”

The name feels like honey, dripping between them and making them sticky. Gareth wants to lick the word from Steve’s mouth.

Gareth watches as Steve puts his hand on his own dick, lazily stroking to keep himself hard. He can’t look away. A bead of precum falls, drips down his length until his thumb swipes it up, rubs it into his skin.

He licks his lips.

His fingers ghost over Steve’s hole.

“Good?” Steve asks, breathless.

“Green,” Gareth answers as he slides a lubed-up finger into him.

He’s tight, but there’s really no resistance. Steve’s relaxed. Gareth’s relaxed.

Steve rocks back into his touch, eyes glassy as he silently begs for more. It’s easy to read him when he’s like this, wanting more, being greedy in ways no one else ever sees. Steve’s a giver, the least selfish person of all of them, but not now. Now he wants.

Now Gareth is gonna give.

He’s three fingers deep when he manages to find Steve’s prostate. It’s easier on himself, he realizes. He’s spent years figuring out what makes himself tick. He has to watch every rise of Steve’s chest, every twitch of his brow, every bite of his lip. This is finding what makes someone– Steve– feel good, and doing it so they find pleasure.

Gareth sees why they fuck like rabbits.

Steve’s back arches off the bed as he flicks his fingers just right, rubs until he’s sure Steve’s gonna squirm right off the bed. Eddie’s barely even a thought in his mind right now, but he can feel his gaze. He’s making sure Steve’s taken care of, and he’s making sure Gareth doesn’t need to back out. He’s taking care of them in the only way he knows how.

He wants to hand over the reins. Steve’s taking what he’s giving, but he wants him to take more.

He doesn’t know how to verbalize that without sounding desperate.

But something switches between them and Steve seems to just know.

He’s an intuitive guy.

Steve sits up, waits for Gareth to remove his fingers. He pushes Gareth back on the bed, so his head is resting at where the sheets have gathered at the foot.

He straddles him again, throws his hands up above his head again, smirks��again.

“Condom?” Steve asks.

Gareth knows from his mom, from health class, from Eddie, from Steve he should say yes. If this were a stranger, he’d say yes.

But this is Steve, who insists on everyone getting tested every three months like clockwork, who has only slept with Eddie for the last six years, who would never even ask if he was at all concerned about their safety. He’s letting Gareth make the call on something that’s normally important. It’s not a test, it’s just Steve letting him have control.

“Can we do it without?” Gareth’s voice is barely more than a whisper. He’s shy. Why the fuck does he feel shy?

Steve nods, soft smile taking over.

“But never do it without with anyone else unless you’re in a committed relationship and both clean,” Eddie says from the chair, ever the mother hen.

“Yes, dad,” Gareth rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me dad while you’re fucking my boyfriend,” Eddie says.

“I’m not fucking him yet,” Gareth’s words end in a whine as Steve slides down on his dick. He’s so fucking tight, Jesus Christ on the fucking cross. “Holy shit. Is it this tight all the time?”

Steve breathes out, halfway laughs, halfway trying to not whimper.

“Eddie usually does four fingers first,” Steve says. It doesn’t even feel weird to hear him talk about what Eddie normally does.

“Should I have done four?”

“No, honey. Three is good,” Steve leans down to kiss him.

Gareth’s stomach flutters.

He’s inside Steve. His dick is in Steve’s ass.

Steve lifts his body up, falls back down. He holds onto Gareth’s chest, thumbs at his nipples, finds a rhythm.

He knows Steve is athletic, has always been that way and probably always will be that way. He’s got endurance that no one can match, probably not even Eddie. He’s stronger than Gareth by a mile, and it shows when his thigh muscles tighten and relax as he rides Gareth into the mattress.

His pace picks up. Gareth’s hands hold onto his hips, but he’s not really doing anything. He’s just along for the ride.

What a ride it’s been.

“Fuck, yes, there,” Steve gasps suddenly. His legs start shaking. Eddie makes the most high-pitched whine Gareth’s ever heard. It’s a lot all at once and his brain is dumbed down to processing how good he feels and nothing else. “Fuck me, honey. Harder.”

It’s ridiculous how easily he goes along with Steve’s demands now. Normally, he fights him on everything just to be annoying.

But Steve wants him to go harder and he wants what Steve wants.

His grip tightens against Gareth’s hips and he plants his feet against the bed for leverage. If Steve’s wants to get fucked harder, then Steve’s gonna get fucked harder.

“Shit, yes, feels so good,” Steve pants.

Gareth doesn’t know if he’s always like this or if he’s playing it up a little to make him feel more confident for whoever he fucks next. Either way, Steve’s making this a hell of a fun time.

“Is it good for you, honey?” Steve asks.

How he remembers to ask is beyond him. Gareth can’t do anything but nod and moan. He feels sweat beading along his forehead and neck. He doesn’t do this much work unless he’s on stage.

“Tell me how good it is.”

Gareth whimpers. He didn’t even realize he could make that noise.

“So good. So tight, Steve, shit,” Gareth is moving faster now, and he’s really not sure how it could feel good for Steve at this point, but Steve’s eyes roll back in his head and he comes all over them.

He’s impossibly tighter through his orgasm and it brings Gareth to his own peak. He’s shaking through it, not even sure what he’s saying. His hips stutter and stop and he’s filling Steve up with his cum. It’s already dripping back down his own dick, making a mess on the hotel bed.

Steve is brushing his hair out of his face, kissing his jaw, whispering about how good he did. It’s helping and also making it harder to keep this from getting complicated.

No one warned him about the attachment. He figured it would be fine, he could get off with Steve and then they could pretend it didn’t happen or joke about it. He’s crashing from a high he’s never experienced and he’s realizing how stupid he was to think he could ever look at Steve the same.

“Shit, Eddie, come here,” he hears Steve say, but he doesn’t really feel anything anymore. He knows he’s not inside Steve anymore, which kinda sucks. He likes the warmth, might already be a little addicted to it. “It’s okay, Gare. We’ve got you.”

Strong arms wrap around him, familiar in the way they don’t hesitate to pull him close. Eddie’s always been a cuddler, and he’s always known how to hold Gareth when his head’s too loud. Right now his head is silent, but his arms provide the same comfort.

A warm washcloth is on him and he blinks his eyes open to see Steve cleaning him up. Eddie’s behind him, holding him against his chest. He’s fully dressed and Gareth is not.

But he just fucked his boyfriend in front of him, so he guesses this is probably fine.

Eddie’s humming something. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’s still feeling a little out of it.

“Hey, honey,” Steve is next to him now, his hand on his chest. “You with us yet?”

“Mmm,” is all he can reply with.

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

A few minutes pass. He feels less like he’s having a crisis about feelings for Steve and more like he just got fucked within an inch of his life.

It’s a good change.

“Hey,” he says.

Eddie’s arms tighten around him. Steve smiles.

“Hey, bud,” Steve says, and it makes Gareth laugh.

“What happened to honey?” He jokes. But he did kinda like it. More than he probably should.

Steve gently smacks his chest. “I was making you feel special, jackass.”

Gareth sighs. “I know. I did.”

Steve has his underwear back on, but nothing else. Gareth can feel his thigh brushing against his. He’s a hairy son of a bitch.

“Was it good?” Steve asks.

“It was great. Thank you for doing that for me,” Gareth hates how his voice sounds now, a little broken, scared.

“You don’t have to thank me, Gare,” Steve says, careful and calm. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.”

“It’s true. Steve’s a stubborn bitch,” Eddie butts in. “Can’t get him to do anything he doesn’t wanna do.”

Gareth giggles, ducking his head down. He still feels a little delirious, maybe a little too sleepy for this conversation.

“You wanna stay with us tonight?” Eddie continues.

“Can I?”

“‘Course you can, bud. Need me to get you anything?”

Gareth shakes his head. He just needs sleep. Maybe in the morning, once he’s separated from this a little, he’ll have some coffee and a bagel and he’ll get over this feeling in his chest that’s trying to override the adrenaline of finally having sex.

He doesn’t know what to make of it right now.

But one thing his mom always says is to sleep on hard feelings. If it’s important, it’ll be there in the morning, and it might make more sense.

He sure hopes so.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #stranger things #corroded coffin fest #steve x gareth #steve x eddie #bottom steve harrington #top gareth #eddie is just here to watch #and to take care of his best friend when the feelings kick in

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muletia · 12 hours ago

Note

I can’t cook for the life of me but uh, here goes (baby’s first ask off anon lmao)

Imagine the newly exiled Megatron (formerly D16) just being tired and stressed from all the hassle of establishing the new pecking order (while I figure the majority of the old high guard backs him, there are not too keen on this newer, younger bot taking command) and he finds comfort in resting with the reader. Like… he’s resting his helm on their chest, trying to keep it together, but reader is able to reassure him he’s what is best for the Decepticon cause as their leader and he’s worthy of his position.

Okay I’m gonna scurry away now under my rock like a little pill bug and not make everyone sad. :3

[tfo] megatron x human!reader

word count: 600

very short, took me way longer than it should cuz words weren't wording but I needed to write about tfo megs

Silence. Peace. When was the last time he had a chance to spend time in his habsuite? When was the last time he allowed himself intimacy with you? When did he last have time to catch his breath?

He doesn't remember. That's why he wants to squeeze every last nanoklik out of this fleeting privacy. Before the chaos returns, the conflicts resurface, and the venomous glares at the back of his helm return. Before the guilt over everything that happened in Iacon manages to catch up with him. Buries his mass-displaced helm deeper into your chest, as if trying to fuse the two of you together, shrinking the world around down to just you. Desperately trying not to break, not to scare you away with the turmoil reigning in his processor. Holding you close for as long as he possibly can, because you are the only being keeping him from breaking down and destroying everything in his path.

There’s so much he wants to tell you. About the chaos, the disorder. About how Starscream drives him to madness. About the expectations he still cannot meet. Wants to pour all his stress, frustration, and grief into words, feelings that claw at his glossa like wild animals begging to be set free. But he knows the walls have ears. A newly appointed leader cannot appear overwhelmed, let alone uncertain. Yet peace is a privilege, and unloading his emotional burden is a treasure he cannot afford. He must be strong. Resilient. No feelings. No stress.

“You’re doing great,” you say, stroking his massive helm, heavy with worry.

But he already has a weakness. The greatest one. Painful and unbearable, because the mere thought of losing you dims the spark burning within him with passion.

“You are a good leader. The best and the only one worthy of such a demanding and difficult position,” you add, placing the gentlest, most tender kiss on the top of his helm. That brief contact with your lips momentarily overshadows his suffering.

Wants to tell you how deeply grateful he is for your mere presence. How much he appreciates that you’re here with him, that you’ve stayed after the torment in the mines and, of your own free will, chose to join him. After everything he’s done, you witnessed his cruelty firsthand. Offer him comfort he doesn’t deserve. He isolates you, and separates from the rest out of fear that someone might use you against him. Knows he doesn’t deserve your affection, knows he causes you pain and suffering, knows he can be harsh and aggressive. And he hopes you understand that he has to be this way. Though he cannot fathom how you can greet him with open arms. Every time. Without a trace of hatred, always with a joyful smile.

“Only you can lead the Decepticons to the glory they deserve. You deserve,” you say, offering another kiss that melts his spark. Megatron slides his servo behind your back to gently caress it with his thumb, anchoring himself even further in this rare sense of comfort. “You are strong. Resourceful. Able to handle every challenge.”

He’s not yet sure of your words. They’re too raw, spoken too soon. They build confidence and reassure him — oh, how they comfort and soothe the urge to cry — but he wants to let them ripen because he must believe in them himself.

For now, he’s content with the closeness. With having his own corner where you always wait for him, with your delicate hands cradling his helm so tenderly, with moments when he can rest. Your presence is enough. One day, he’ll tell you everything. About the ugly and the messy, the most hidden and intangible parts of himself. But for now, this is enough. It has to be.

#transformers x reader #megatron x reader #tfo megatron x reader

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stargazedwinchester · 2 days ago

Text

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `camaro, dean winchester

Summary: You run into the brothers at a gas station in your Chevy Camaro. Word Count: 797 Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

“Thank you for your time.” Sam nods politely at the couple before exiting the store. The brothers visited a gas station connected to the murder of a woman who had purchased items there shortly before she died. Their original plan was to visit the husband of said lady, to see what’s really going on. Dean pulls the gas pump out of the holder and plunges the dispenser into the impala. His eyes meet Sams, who purses his lips at him. “Nothin’,” he says, taking a gander of the whole place.

The gas station itself is situated practically in the middle of nowhere; desert and tumbleweeds reside close by. They’re smack in the middle of Arizona, the southwestern heat quite literally radiates off of the tarmac. Dean sighs, checking the price on the tank. Another vehicle’s parked beside the other pump. Dean’s eyebrows furrow, examining the car. “Damn,” he huffs, a frown forming on his face as he notices the Chevrolet badge on the side of the vehicle. “Whoever’s driving that thing has good taste.” He chuckles at Sam, then the door to the store opens up, the doorbell chiming as it’s pushed open.

And there you are, suited up in a black blazer paired with a tight, black above the knee skirt and a white blouse. You’re wearing your favourite jewellery and your hair tied neatly in a claw clip. You’re looking down at your phone, clipboard gripped under your other arm. Your phone rings, and you don’t hesitate to answer. “He won’t tell me anything. I tried everything, but the guy won’t budge.” You admit, sandwiching your phone between your shoulder and your ear, fiddling in your purse for your car key. Your car unlocks, and you toss the clipboard to the passenger side before shutting the door again. You lean against your car, the sun blaring down at you. “No, I know, I just can’t figure it out…” You sigh in defeat. Dean whips his head around to Sam, a hopeful, gleaming look in his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes before entering the Impala. He hangs up the dispenser before making his way around to you.

You hang up the phone, placing it into your pocket. “Hey.” Dean says, grinning at you. “Hey yourself.” You scoff, reaching for your car key once more. “Sorry, uh…” He hesitates, “Y/N.” You pause, glancing at him. “I’m Dean, uh, I just couldn’t help but notice your car here…” He slows, before examining it again. “What make is it?” He asks, a genuine tone in his voice. “It’s a Camaro,” you state, catching Dean’s eye. He’s not looking at the far, he’s looking at you. You hesitate. “1963. It was my dads.” You try to force the smile away that’s creeping up on your face, the fond memories you shared between you and your late father during your childhood.

“Same as me,” Dean recalls, placing his hands in his pockets. “I mean, this was my dads, too. A stubborn son of a bitch.” He chuckles nervously, making eye contact with Sam who’s still sat in the passenger, ushering him to hurry up. “So anyway,” he pauses, “it’s probably a long shot, but-“

“You wanna take me to dinner?”

“Oh! I mean, I was gonna ask for your number, but…” Dean fumbles around in his pockets, attempting to find his phone, or even a pen and paper. “You can take that too.” Your eyes dangle over his large frame, taking in every inch of him. He’s got broad shoulders, the 2 piece suit making him look even more so. From the moment he walked up to you, his hair was gelled perfectly, but since standing out in the sun, his hair has gone soft. He runs his hand through his hair. You’ll admit, he’s pretty hot.

For some reason, your presence really intimidates Dean. It doesn’t seem like it’s his first rodeo with women, but something about him really makes you want to know more. You whip your phone out of your pocket. “What did you say your name was?”

“D-Dean.” He stutters, smiling at you sheepishly. You tap his name into your phone, then passing it over to him to input his number.

“Right. Well, Dean,” you unlock your car again, opening the drivers door. Dean steps back, allowing you to enter your car. He leans into the window, his face very close to yours. “Call me.”

You turn the engine over, the Camaro purring beneath you. It vibrates, making Dean gloat at how well kept it is. You take the car out of park, and slowly move off. “Y-yeah, I will.” Dean watches you drive off onto the long dirt road, unsure whether he’s admiring you or your car. He turns around, catching Sam’s eye. “Dammit, she’s hot!”

#supernatural #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester #supernatural imagines #dean winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader

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just-a-little-unionoid · 2 days ago

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In which Stone sort of has a daughter and Ivo and her are not getting along

so I've talked about this fic I started writing back when the first movie came out and since a few people seem interested I decided to post what I wrote back then to test the water

on the base concept this fic is supposed to be stobotnik but this first part doesn't even has Stone in it, as it is only the first encounter between Robotnik and the kid

it's also not supposed to be the first chapter and it's short but that's all I got the motivation to write back then and it's been 4 years so I'm just, I'm gonna post it now cuz that's long enough okay, we will see how it goes later 😭

for context this takes place after the first movie and will only be canon-compliant up to that point

also uh cw r slur??? idk I don't condone the characters' language but it's there

tagging @thebadevil @alexcole1326 and @nosebleedy99 'cause you commented on the other post

- Meanwhile a few months latter on the mushroom planet -

The Doctor was looking for a way on a tricky path, a collapsing old mushroom cap he needed to step on in order to reach a better point of view, when his appliances went insane: there was some dimensional shit going on. He heard a big crack, like thunderbolt, then the dimentional fluctuation faded away.

Maybe two hours latter he heard something again, but something small, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It was not the wind, not the mushrooms growing, not his own breath, not Agent Stone rolling away. It was something that moved by itself, something alive, something animal. It was footsteps.

He was prepared for anything, really, he was prepared for humans, talking blue hedgehogs, other feaking rainbow animals, dinosaurs that would try to eat him... He was ready, and ready to fight for his life if necessary! What he wasn't really expecting though was a child in some kind of safety suit shaped like a dress? With a lot of shiny technological device attached here and there. He didn't get to see their face a lot but based on its proportions and the way it was standing it was obviously a human child, or a weirdly humanoid shaped alien, because as far as Robotnik knew the probability of an alien species to evolve in the exact same way as human, if statistically possible, was very low, and the probability to encounter it even lower.

The child glanced at him for a second and didn't even look up from the touchscreen tablet in their hands when they addressed him:

"I am looking for a human man who was known on his home planet, Earth, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. Would you appear to 1) know English and 2) have seen a human looking quite like you, in that the human male standard shape and size are similar to yours. He should have a pale skin and dark hairs, and apparently a 'glorious mustache'?"

For once he didn't really know what to say, it only took half a second for him to remember how to register English words but the kid was faster and after a jaded sigh they resumed: "Nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma? Kya aap hindee bolate hain? ¿Hablas español? Hal tatahadath alearabiatu? Tumi ki bān-"

"YES I do speak English, and other language stoo, thank you very much. Who are you and what are you doing here anyway?"

"I am here to find the Dr. Ivo Robotnik, I have already said that. Are you retarded or something? If you are don't worry I can explain things again, more slowly, I am trained for that."

"I AM, Dr. Ivo Robotnik," he said, trying very hard not to break the child's neck. "I know you're looking for me, what I'm asking is why? Who are you and who sent you here? No. You know what in fact I don't care who you are. I just want to know who sent you. Which government or secret agency, that sort of thing."

The mildly disgusted and doubtful facial expression they made as they were double-checking his appearance was speaking volumes about their internal thoughts.

"I have no more time to dedicate to you. I'm a very busy person and searching for you already wasted far more of my precious time than you deserve. All you need to know is that a very important person want you and you will follow me now if you don't want me to make use of force."

And on that, the child turned their back to him and disappeared behind a mushroom.

Great. One of those child genius who thought they were above everyone else just because they worked for a random government. He should know, he was one of them. But that kid would learn soon enough what their real place was: down below.

He still followed them though, because they looked like they knew a way back and, well, even if he was smart enough to find a way by himself, thank you very much, the sooner he could beat that hedgehog the better it was. Also, he could just kill them after learning whatever device brought them here and no one would know.

–––

Soon they arrived to a more open area. The child seemingly took measurements, they walked around taking notes on their pad for a few minutes then stopped.

"Come here," they said while pointing the ground. "Don't move."

They took a device from their bag, some kind of tripod filled with wires and LEDs, and placed it on the ground. They stepped back and typed on their screen some more.

The tripod beeped and light beams came out of it, scaning the mushroom cap they where standing on. A dozen of flat devices escaped from the bag and and went to place themselves on strategic points marked by the beams.

The child then placed what looked like a power cell in the tripod. That blue glow emanating from it, could it be... But he had no time to think about it, lights amplificated by stimulated emission of radiation came out of the tripode and to the discs, reflecting into the others, and soon the whole place was illuminated. Reality torn open for the second time this day in a deafening din.

When he oppened his eyes again a ring, looking almost exactly like the one that brought him here, was now open on the ground before him. Almost, because it looked like it opened on a room specifically equipped for that purpose, and with the whole procedure to activate it, it could only mean it was a more primitive technology.

The Doctor looked up at the child, who was scrutinizing him for his reaction.

"I bet you didn't do that yourself, it looks just like this creature's gold rings portals," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah of course," responded the child with spite, "it's reverse engineering."

"Lame."

"Well at least I'm not stupidly stuck on a damn mushroom planet like an idiot. I favour efficiency upon ego, that's why I am here saving your ass and you are pathetically crawling over there covered in mushroom goo. Now, you will have to excuse me..."

They pressed some hiden button in their gloves and Robotnik felt something stinging his neck.

"...but I don't trust you."

The last thing he thought while falling to the ground and through the ring was: "But... That's my tech..."

#soooo... what do you think of it?#i think it's like the second time i post any of my writing in public so im not gonna lie im a little nervous #there was a little more written but it's back on earth so i decided to just cut the 'chapter' in half and focus on that part #i don't have a title yet but im gonna try to think of one #the kid has a couple reasons to hate ivo it's not 100% gratuitous #but you may learn about that in the future 👀#i mean if... if you're interested 👉👈#also you very much can send me asks about this story if you want it might help with motivation maybe? (please)#(im very afraid of not being able to keep writing im a total mess ngl)#anyway uh... i should stop rambling #oh also don't hesitate to point out spelling or grammar errors or anything‚ english is *still* not my first language ah ah #stobotnik #is that okay if i tag the ship even tho this part is very much not about it?#like i kinda plan for it to happen at some point maybe but im not *sure* it will because i don't really have a *full* story planed y'know

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 days ago

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hey i made some a chorus of dragons valentines <3

#a chorus of dragons #i think i'm soooo funny <3 #also non-acod mutuals. well. i was gonna say if u want context just ask #but i actually can't really explain any of these without spoiling some important things #so. uh. just trust me these are really really good #u should go read acod to understand them <3 #oh! first one i can explain fine #it's a sex thing #equivalent of top or bottom #this one country just uses horse metaphors for everything always

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bonsiii-art · 2 days ago

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Update time!

Happy Valentine's day, everyone!! I hope you guys are having fun! q(≧▽≦q) Seems like the best time to talk about things going on with me before I answer some asks! I'll try to be succinct! First things first, since I'm pinning this post, I'll say again that my commissions will be open in late-March! The time frame is due to reasons that I'll elaborate here in a bit. If, busy, here's a TL;DR : Messed up my back bc I neglected my stretches for 2 months; will be taking it easy till the end of March. V-day art will be late due to that.

Secondly, as much as I wanted to, I don't have any drawings ready for the holiday rn... yet. I have a few ideas that are gonna take some time to get out, but I want to do them regardless (≧∀≦)ゞ (Ideas being ones I promised last Valentine's Day: a Hollyberry comic that's nearly done, a Longan comic, and a Shadow Milk comic). I'm always late to these things so it should be fiiine. So uh, the reasons I mentioned. During the completion of the latter part of my comm queue and that drawing I posted a day or two ago, I might've... pushed myself a bit too hard and my lower back pain's now at an all-time high. <:P Back pain has been a problem for me for a while which is why I had a stretching + exercise regimen to manage it. However, I neglected doing any of it for the past two-ish months and now it's really coming back to bite me. qwq So I'll be going back into it full-swing and it's gonna include me cutting down on how much I sit at my pc. The pain is, thankfully, not to a point where I have to see a doctor, but it really sucks to go to bed and wake up with the same pain... （；´д｀）ゞ

I want to get better enough to take comms comfortably when March rolls around sooooo, wish me luck!!

#bonsi talks #also to any T/WST peeps out there who follow me; I got Crowley within 50 pulls LETS FKING GOOOOOO

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eclipixels · 2 days ago

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Masterpiece

Rafayel x Reader

Content: Rafayel invites you over to help him paint…

Wanings: 🍋

[2,560 words]

The first thing you say when you walk into Rafayel’s studio is, "I’m here, where’s the problem?"

He had called you earlier, his voice laced with urgency, telling you to come over as soon as possible. Something important, he had said, something he needed your help with. You barely had time to process before he hung up, leaving you with nothing but curiosity and mild concern.

Now, standing at the threshold of his creative sanctuary, you take in the familiar chaos—the scent of drying paint, the scattered brushes, half-finished canvases lining the walls like whispers of unfinished thoughts. But strangely enough, you don’t see him at first.

You step further inside, weaving past a large easel and a worktable cluttered with palettes and sketchbooks, until finally, he emerges from behind a tall canvas.

“Oh, Y/n. Finally, you’re here.” His voice carries a hint of relief, but there’s also something else—something playful. He’s grinning, his hands dusted with dried paint, as he turns from where he had been settling two buckets of paint on the floor.

You eye him suspiciously. “Yeah… what’s so urgent?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he wipes his hands on a rag, tossing it aside as he steps closer. Then, with absolute nonchalance, he says—

“Strip.”

Your breath catches. “W-what?” You blink, certain you misheard him.

But Rafayel doesn’t waver. If anything, his smirk deepens, the mischief in his gaze undeniable now. He closes the distance between you, tilting his head slightly as he studies your reaction.

“Take off your clothes.” He repeats, slow and deliberate, as if daring you to challenge him.

Your heart kicks up a notch. The room suddenly feels warmer, the air heavier.

He can’t be serious. Can he?

“Uh—why?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Rafayel looks genuinely shocked that you even needed to ask. His expression reads like Really? Do I need a reason to see you naked? You should know this by now.

“I told you, I need a little help.”

You narrow your eyes. “What could you possibly need help with that requires me naked?” You ask, probably too stupidly, because the way he looks at you makes it clear he thinks the answer is obvious.

Before you can say anything else, he grabs your wrist and places your hand right below his pelvis.

“Can’t think of anything?” he whispers against your ear, his voice laced with something dark and delicious. His breath is warm against your skin, and despite yourself, a shiver runs down your spine.

Your face heats up instantly as you yank your hand back. “Rafayel! You can’t just call me like that—I thought something serious happened to you!” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes. “So, are you gonna take off your clothes or not?” His impatience is showing now. Usually, he was the bratty one, so he clearly doesn’t appreciate you flipping the roles.

You pout, tilting your chin up. “Make me.”

The audacity of him calling you in the middle of the afternoon just to fuck. Actually… okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but still. So demanding.

“Strip.” He commands laced with magic. His eyes glint hypnotically, and before you even realize it, your fingers are working on their own, undoing buttons, pulling fabric over your head, sliding off anything keeping you covered. You don’t expect him to actually use his siren abilities on you.

Your heart pounds as you suddenly find yourself completely bare. “Hey!” you frown, crossing your arms over your chest in protest. “I would’ve given in! You didn’t have to cheat!”

“Stand near the canvas for me.” He motions toward an area where a large tarp covers the floor, and an even larger blank canvas stands waiting.

Where the hell did he even find a canvas that big?

You watch, transfixed, as Rafayel unbuttons his own clothes, letting each piece slide off his frame and fall onto the pile of your discarded garments. Your breath catches as your hungry gaze traces the sharp lines of his abs, the taut muscles of his arms, the little veins running along his forearms. Every beauty mark, every ridge and dip of his sculpted body—it’s mesmerizing.

For an artist, it’s almost unfair how perfect he looks, as if he had been carved straight out of marble by the hands of the gods themselves.

He doesn’t acknowledge your obvious staring. Instead, he moves past you with quiet intent, stepping toward his worktable where an assortment of paint cans and brushes sit waiting. You expect him to grab something grand or dramatic—maybe something sensual or even mischievous—but instead, he simply dips a brush into a pot of deep reddish-pink paint.

Your brows furrow as he walks back to you, the brush dripping slightly.

“Turn around.” His voice is soft, almost coaxing.

You hesitate for only a second before complying, facing away from him. A sharp, cold sensation kisses your spine as he drags the paintbrush down the curve of your back, and you shiver, heat prickling at your skin from the contrast.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, glancing over your shoulder.

Rafayel tuts in amusement. “Shh. Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?”

You glare at him playfully, but you hold your tongue as he continues. The brush moves slowly, deliberately, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you with each stroke. The scent of paint mixes with the natural musk of his skin, the intimate silence between you filled only by the faint sound of bristles against flesh.

Once he’s finished covering your body in the warm, flushed hue, he goes back to dip another brush in blue. You watch as he covers most of himself in it, biting your lip at how insanely attractive and delicious he looks. You tilt your head as he walks towards you once again, handing the brush to you. You blink, confused, but he simply gestures toward himself. “Cover the spots I can’t reach.”

Your fingers tremble slightly as you dip the brush into the paint, bringing it up to his skin. You mirror his slow, reverent strokes, watching the way his muscles tense under your touch. His eyes flicker with something dark and pleased, but he remains still, letting you work.

By the time you're both completely painted, your heart is hammering with anticipation.

Rafayel doesn’t give you time to question him again. His large hands find your waist, gripping firmly as he guides you toward the canvas laid out on the floor. He steps onto it first, the tarp crinkling beneath his weight. Then, with gentle insistence, he pulls you down with him, positioning you over his body until your bare, painted skin meets his.

A gasp escapes you at the sensation—warm flesh, slick paint, the slight stickiness as your bodies press together against the blank canvas.

“This paint is body-safe, right?” you whisper, because it’s the only coherent thought you can muster.

Rafayel hums, his lips curving into a lazy smirk. “Of course.”

Then, without another word, he captures your lips in a kiss.

It starts slow, teasing, his lips moving against yours with practiced ease. But as the paint smears between you, as your bodies mold into one another, the kiss deepens—breathless, desperate, entirely consuming.

The canvas beneath you begins to transform, capturing every movement, every press of skin against skin, every shift and slide of color blending together.

And suddenly, you understand exactly what he was doing and why he needed your help.

Your tongues entwined, as your bodies pressed together. You could feel his hardness, the evidence of his arousal, against your thigh, and your own desire rose to meet it.

His lips move against yours with an intoxicating slowness, teasing, tasting, savoring. The slickness of the paint mixed with the heat of your bodies makes every touch feel more intense.

You can feel the texture of the canvas beneath you, the way the fabric catches onto the paint, imprinting your bodies onto its surface. Every shift, every movement leaves behind a trail of color, an abstract masterpiece forming beneath you.

“See?” he murmurs against your lips. “I told you I needed help.”

A breathless laugh escapes you. “This is your idea of help?”

His fingers dig into your waist, grounding you against him. “It’s a collaboration,” he corrects, his voice deep, sultry. “And I take my art very seriously.”

His mouth finds your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. You tilt your head back instinctively, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation sends warmth pooling in your stomach. Every movement, every kiss, every brush of skin against skin adds to the chaotic beauty beneath you.

The colors smear together, pinks and blue mixing to make streaks of lilac, hints of his own undertones swirling with yours. It’s intimate, messy, passionate, and utterly unique.

“Look at what we’re making,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

You open your eyes just enough to glance at the canvas beneath you. It’s breathtaking, the way the pigments blend together in erratic yet harmonious strokes, the way the imprints of your bodies tell a story.

You shift against him, feeling the way he tenses beneath you, the way his fingers flex against your hips. The teasing power shifts between you, and you take advantage, grinding down ever so slightly just to hear the sharp inhale he takes.

His grip tightens.

“Careful,” he warns, though there’s no real edge to his tone, just hunger. “Unless you’re ready to be my muse in more ways than one.”

You smirk, leaning in so your lips brush just against his. “I thought I already was.”

His eyes darken, his smirk growing. “Oh, you have no idea.”

And just like that, you’re lost again. Lost in him. Lost in the heat of his body, the feel of his touch, the art you’re creating together.

Rafayel trailed kisses down your neck, sending shivers through your body. He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes filled with intense desire and mania. His eyes never leave yours. You feel the heat of his body against yours, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. You arched your back, inviting him closer, as he guided himself to your entrance.

The moment he entered your, you gasped, the sensation both exquisite and overwhelming. Your eyes locked, and his pace started slow, building to a rhythm that matched the beating of your hearts. Rafayel's lips found yours again, your kisses deepening with each thrust.

The room was filled with the sound of your moans and the collision of your bodies meeting. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside. Your lovemaking became more fervent, driven by your growing need for release.

“More” You whimpered, not satisfied with how gentle he was being.

“What a greedy little muse I have,” He smirks before flipping you over on your hands and knees, his arms wrapping around your waist and hips as he filled you up. You looked down at the canvas beneath you, eyes scanning the imprints of your body. Handprints, footprints, the outline of your curves, breasts, thighs, and you could even make out bits and pieces of your face on there.

Rafayel's grip on you tightened, and you felt him grinding against you, the pressure building inside.

“F-fuck! You feel s’good” He groaned, throwing his head back in elation as his movements grew rougher and sloppy. His breathing became shallow the more you tightened around him, sucking him inside of you like a vice.

“Rafa– ah!– y-yel, I’m gonna come,” You cried out, gripping onto the canvas. You almost had the air knocked out of you as he flipped you both into another position once again. This time, you were both on your sides. He pulled one of your legs up so he could fit himself inside you once again before going at the same, harsh pace.

He nipped at your shoulder, his hands sure to leave bruises after from where he gripped you.

“You sound so beautiful– shit!” He growled, the sugary sweet noises that fell past your lips driving him insane. Your passion reached a crescendo as you both collapsed, shuddering in unison as you experienced the bliss of your climax. You mewled at the feeling of warm, hot ropes of cum spilling inside of you followed by Rafayel’s sinful moans. Your shallow breathing doesn’t stop once you’re done though, both your chests still rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breaths.

You lazily scan the canvas one more time, hald of it covered by your tired bodies but from the parts you could see, it was beautiful. You’re both completely spent, lying tangled together in the middle of your own creation. You realize that this might just be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever helped him make.

The room is thick with the scent of paint and the lingering heat between your bodies, still pressed against him, still tangled in the mess of colors smeared across the canvas. The air hums with the quiet satisfaction of something both chaotic and beautiful.

Rafayel lays beneath you now as you crawled on top of him after finishing, one arm draped lazily over your back, fingers tracing mindless patterns against your skin. His other hand reaches out blindly, fingers skimming across the canvas.

“This might be my best work yet,” he murmurs, voice deep and laced with amusement.

You huff a small laugh against his chest. “I don’t know if you can even call it a painting, it’s just smudges and prints.”

He tuts, tilting your chin up with paint-streaked fingers so you meet his gaze. “It’s a masterpiece.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the warmth spreading through you at his words. His pride in the piece, in you, is unmistakable.

With a sigh, you push yourself up slightly, glancing at the disaster surrounding you. Your bodies have turned the once-blank canvas into an explosion of color—redish pinks blues making various shades of purple bleeding together in a chaotic but oddly perfect way. Even the floor around it hadn’t been spared; streaks of paint mark the places where your limbs shifted, where your bodies collided.

�� “We made a mess,”

Rafayel chuckles, stretching out beneath you, entirely unbothered. “The best art is messy.”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, still smeared with paint. “And what now? You gonna hang this up in some gallery?”

He grins, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss against your palm. “Something like that.” Then, a wicked glint flashes in his eyes. “Or maybe I’ll keep it for myself. Hang it right above my bed. A unique piece, just for me.”

You flush at the thought, swatting at his chest. “You’re lovesick.”

He laughs, easily catching your hand again and pulling you back down against him. His lips brush against yours, slow and teasing. He doesn’t answer, but the way your fingers tangle in his hair, the way you melt back into his warmth, says enough.

Rafayel hums. “So, when are we making the next one?”

You gave him a look of utter disbelief, which he found amusing.

“Should I make it into a collection, then? Have multiple pieces?” He continued to tease you, adoring the way you reacted. You groan, burying your face in his chest as he chuckles, utterly pleased with himself.

#rafayel l&ds #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #qi yu #lnds #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace #l&ds #l&ds x reader

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alaia777 · 2 days ago

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every valentine’s day, without fail, a small note would appear beneath your window, never signed.

for years, you wondered who it could be. you tried everything—staying up late, keeping watch from your window, even sneaking outside in the middle of the night. but every time, you either fell asleep or missed them by seconds. once, you almost caught them. you saw the blur of a figure slipping into the shadows, the edge of a hoodie that looked so familiar. but it was dark, and maybe you were just imagining things.

eventually, you stopped searching. maybe it was easier that way—easier to leave it as a mystery, easier to pretend it didn’t make your heart race.

but still, every year, the notes kept coming.

“hope you smiled today.”

“the stars were extra bright tonight, just like you.”

“i wonder if you ever think about me too.”

you had mentioned it to isagi before, casually bringing it up in conversation. he’d always listen, nodding along, but whenever you tried to actually talk about it, he would steer the conversation elsewhere.

“you think they’ll ever tell me who they are?” you had asked once, twirling the latest note between your fingers.

“maybe,” isagi had shrugged. “or maybe they’re just waiting for the right time.”

“and when’s that?”

“dunno,” he had muttered, suddenly very interested in tying his shoelaces. “probably when they stop being a coward.”

it wasn’t until this year that you finally caught them.

you hadn’t been waiting for them, not this time. you just happened to wake up in the middle of the night, feeling restless. with a sigh, you rolled over, planning to go right back to sleep—until you heard something. the faintest rustling outside your window.

curiosity got the better of you. you sat up, pushed your blankets aside, and tiptoed over to peek out.

and there, standing just outside your window, carefully slipping an envelope beneath the frame—was isagi.

your heart stilled.

he didn’t notice you at first, too focused on making sure the note was perfectly placed. but then he hesitated, as if second-guessing himself. before he could change his mind, you tapped the glass.

his reaction was instant—he stiffened, his whole body going rigid. slowly, he turned his head toward the window, eyes wide, face pale like he’d just been caught committing a crime.

for a long moment, neither of you said anything.

then, in the most pathetic attempt at playing it cool, isagi very slowly shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, clearing his throat.

“…hey.”

you blinked. “hey?”

his face turned red. “so, uh. crazy coincidence, huh?”

“isagi.”

you stared at him. he stared back, looking like he was debating whether to bolt or dig himself into the ground.

and then, because you couldn’t help it, you started laughing.

he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “shut up.”

but you only laughed harder, leaning against the window frame. “isagi, what the hell—”

“okay, yeah, fine, it’s me!” he blurted, voice rising slightly in panic. “but in my defense, i was gonna tell you! i just—i don’t know, maybe after we were, like, eighty or something.”

you smiled, warmth bubbling in your chest. “so you’ve been writing me love letters for years and just never planned on saying anything?”

his ears went red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “i—listen, it made sense in my head, okay?”

you shook your head, still grinning, as you climbed out your window and stepped onto the cool grass beside him. he looked at you, nervous, shifting on his feet.

“so, uh, are you mad?”

you exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. “not even a little.”

his shoulders sagged in relief, and after a beat, he chuckled, soft and a little embarrassed. “so, does this mean i can finally sign the next one with my name?”

you hummed, pretending to think about it before tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie, pulling him just a little closer. “we’ll see.”

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader

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fluffy-leech · 10 hours ago

Text

[Audio Description:

Scar: How did you die by a silverfish, Bdubs? Bdubs: Uhh… freaking Hungry Hermits? Scar: (snickers) Etho: Ohhh, yes, yes... Xisuma: Hi. (Bdubs and Scar yelp) (Xisuma and Etho laugh) Bdubs: Turn around! Turn around and he sneaks up on you! Caref-

(CUT)

Etho: Is this a PVP one? Oh yeah, players… Xisuma: Yeah yeah. Bdubs: Players killed. Like, by a long shot. Scar, overlapping: Ooo, thats a good one. Etho: By a long shot. Scar, overlapping: (opens book showing one-hundred ninety-six kills) Woah! (clip from a past livestream) Scar: —is an opportunity of wonder. He— (shoots and kills Bdubs) —he just sat there! (present clip) Bdubs: (flatly) Supervillain. Scar: (snickers)

(CUT)

Bdubs: Supervillain Good Times With Scar. You'd think it'd be Gem… you would think.

(CUT)

Bdubs: Oh. Scar: (flatly) Etho… (sighs) What are you gonna do about the stone in the back of the permit office? Er the, Poe Poe office? Etho: I want a written apology— Scar: You violated the rules! Of course your shop got impounded! You had plenty of notice— Etho: (quickly) No! You made up the rules after I did it.

(CUT)

Etho: yeah, that—there was no pop-up rule before that.

(CUT)

Etho: A block is a metre, yeah. Scar: Okay… Etho: Which… is a little more than three feet, Scar. Xisuma, overlapping: So does it give you ten? It's centimetres. Etho: And Bdubs.

(CUT)

Scar: Uh… did we lose Xisuma? Xisuma: (lightly) No, I'm here, I'm here. Bdubs, overlapping: No.

(CUT)

Etho: You have so many technical problems all the time, Xisuma, it's hard to know if you're being creaking or if you're crashing. (Bdubs, Scar, and Etho laugh) Xisuma: I'm—I'm out of character now—

(CUT)

Scar: —We're gonna do some reprimanding. Bdubs, overlapping: Good! Xisuma in chat: I legitamitly was wondering what the significance of 200 was Scar: (snickers) Bdubs: I hate to say this— Scar: Oh my God, Xisuma. Bdubs: —but maybe get out the scroll. And start writing out some names. Etho in chat: good times with Zcar Scar: You know what? Xisuma's first on that list Bdubs: Faxisu—(verbal keysmash) first on the list! Scar: Etho's second! Oh my God! Bdubs, overlapping: Good Times With Zcar! Oh boy. Scar: (indignantly) I'm not a Tzar, I'm a Scar. Bdubs: Ah, boy. Scar: (writing on his scroll) X… zumavoid… Bdubs: Very good. Scar: Etho… Bdubs: Slab. Scar: This is—this is a—yeah. Ethoslab. Mister Slab himself. Bdubs: Yes. Scar: And Mister Void. Xisuma in chat: the feather!!! Scar: We takin' you guys to court. Bdubs, overlapping: (quietly) Yes, yes, yes. Yes. Scar: I'm gonna represent myself. I'm a successful lawyer.

(CUT)

Bdubs: Great mod developers out there, but… Etho in chat: 2x pristine pearl! let's go! Bdubs: (flatly) Is Etho talking about stupid fishing? Scar: (snickers) Bdubs: On here? Scar: (tries to muffle his laughter) Bdubs: (getting riled up) There's no way. He's double… he's double Minecraft up—he's got… alright, we're going. Scar: E-Etho? Oh my God, we're talking about fishing. I'm so excited. Guys, I hit level thirty-one yest—

(CUT)

Scar: I'm on the tropical island— Bdubs: (fading into hearing range) Yeah, he's playing here on Hermitcraft and he's got the MCI fishing in the background. he's-he's in the— (yelling, words getting jumbled together) you don't even catch fish anymore! What the heck! What the heck was that catch?! Two pristine pearl?! What the heck is that?! (fades back out of range) Scar: (hiccup laughing) Two pristine pearl… Bdubs: (fading back into range) —eyyyy! Don't you (yelling) shoot at me! Alright?! Scar: Where is he? Where is Etho? Bdubs: He's in his house! There he is— Scar, overlapping: There he is! There he is! There he is! Bdubs: Listen! Ay! You can't be doin' that!

(CUT)

Scar: Proud of your (unintelligible) asking. Bdubs: (exasperated) Oh, brother! Etho: Just a second I got a million things going on here. Hey! Hello, hello hello. Bdubs: (monotone, close to the mic) You have one thing going on. You be able to focus on us. Etho, overlapping: (quietly) Just a second, gotta change spots real quick. Bdubs: (sighs) Scar: Do you think there's any way… Bdubs: (pointed silence) Scar: …with him here… we're here… Etho: It's Glimmering Tide right now. Scar: Really? Etho: Yeah. Scar: You think we can get him on— Etho: Wait! you got—

(CUT)

Scar: Bdubs, what are your thoughts. We get you on there? Etho, overlapping: You ever gotten a miniature ender chest? Scar: Just for a minute? Bdubs: (lightly) No! Scar: Just one cast, Bdubs. One cast, that's all Etho and I ask is one cast. Bdubs: (laughing exasperatingly) No! I already told you about the-the— Scar, overlapping: You cast your—you cast your rod, you crank it back, and-and you're done— Bdubs: No! Scar: —you can just… we can be back on Hermitcraft in about two minutes. Bdubs: No! You're catching pearls and spirits and clams and boots, okay? Scar, overlapping: I-I'm not (unintelligible) clams. I've caught crabs! Etho: Dead things. And there's… Scar: I got crabs.

(CUT)

Scar: Okay. So MCI has more than what we have here, Bdubs. We have crabs. Bdubs: (scoffs lightly) That's great. That's great That'd good. That's good. Etho: (giggling softly) Scar: maybe we just get you on there real quick. Bdubs: Not right now. Alright? Etho: This is like the life series when we're talking about it and we're with someone who's not part of it and their-their eyes just glaze over (laughs softly). Bdubs: No, I'm actually fascinated. I'm dying for a reason. You guys are my friends, you know. And I want to play a video game with my friends, but for goodness sakes play something worthwhile that's valuable in your lives. Improve your life for one second? Scar: But you haven't tried it Bdubs! Can you at least do one cast? Bdubs: Not today! Not never. Not now! Scar, overlapping: (whispering) Oh my God. Bdubs: Not now. Etho: Bdubs is all about the NBA, two-thousand five k… Bdubs: (breathy, exasperated laugh) Nuh uh! No! Scar: (in a mocking voice) Oh, lookit me and my pigskin. I'm chuckin' my ball in the hoop. Bdubs: I like Minecraft! Scar: (mocking voice) Wa wa wa. Bdubs: I like— (wheezy laugh) Etho: And next I'm gonna dribble the ball and then… Bdubs: No… Etho: …I'm gonna dribble the ball some more. Scar: Oh nooo, I travelled… Bdubs, overlapping: That's—

End audio description]

Hope everything is correct :)

source 1 & 2

some of my favourite moments from the 3 hour long hang out 🎊 . (this was an 11 minutes long clip 😭😭😭)

#mcyt #hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #bdoubleo100 #ethoslab #xisumavoid #reblog

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 3 days ago

Text

PS. I LOVE YOU

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: Eddie has always thought Valentine's Day was stupid, and now that he's finally decided to participate in the traditional card giving, he finds it even more unbearable. Warnings: mention of tears, Jason being a dick.

Valentines masterlist

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"This is so stupid" Eddie whispered to himself as he walked through the empty hall.

The bell was about to ring for lunch, and he had to do this, he had to because if he didn't do it now, he would never do it.

It was Valentine's Day tomorrow and Eddie had already postponed asking you to be his valentine for weeks now, so it was now or never.

So, with the handmade card he made in his hand, he walked up to your locker, slipping it through the slim hole before going to the cafeteria.

The thought of you reading what he wrote made his hands go clammy and his mind go fuzzy.

If he could, he'd take the letter back right now, taking it from your locker and rip it up to prevent the embarrassment he's about to face.

But this had to be done.

He loved you.

The bell rang a few seconds later, kids flooding into the room and lining up for food and going to sit at their tables, talking shit about teachers they just had or rolling their eyes about homework and the banners of Valentine's Day that piled on the school walls.

But Eddie sat alone for a few minutes, his knee bouncing under the table, and every few seconds, he'd rub at his nose, his nerves making his hands restless.

You were late. You were never late.

Maybe you found the card, read it, and decided to avoid him. Maybe you were off somewhere laughing about it with your other friends. Or maybe you just didn’t feel the same.

His stomach churned at the thought.

He shouldn’t have done it. He should’ve kept his dumb feelings locked up in that part of his brain where all his other embarrassing thoughts went to die.

And then you walked in.

Like nothing had changed.

You plopped down across from him, food in your hand, greeting him the same way you always did.

And that was it. No mention of the card. No weird look. No “hey, we need to talk.” Just you, unbothered, unshaken, completely unaware of the storm raging inside his head.

Eddie's throat felt tight. He could barely look at you, his usual sarcastic remarks dying on his tongue. He'd poured his heart out to you, and you'd... ignored it.

Not even a rejection.

Just silence.

He forced a chuckle, trying to play it cool. “You’re late. What, ditch me for a better lunch date?” His voice didn’t sound like his own, too forced, too hollow.

You rolled your eyes, stealing a fry off his plate. “Relax, Munson. Had to run to my locker first.”

His stomach twisted.

You went to your locker. You definitely saw it.

But you didn’t care.

He swallowed hard, nodding slowly, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked down at his food.

His hands felt weird, like he didn’t know what to do with them. His nose twitched again, and he wiped at it a little too aggressively.

"So, uh…" He struggled to find something normal to say, something that didn’t sound like "you gonna say anything?"

"why? did I miss anything good?" you asked, shoving another fry into your mouth.

Eddie hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah. Same old crap." His voice was quieter now, flatter.

And that was that.

You kept talking like normal, like nothing had changed. But for Eddie, everything had.

The guys sat down a few minutes later, loud and easy like they always were. Jeff shoved half a sandwich in his mouth mid-sentence, Gareth was already rolling his eyes at whatever he was saying, and Eddie-

Eddie was quiet.

Jeff and Gareth didn’t say anything about it, but they noticed.

Noticed how Eddie barely touched his food.

Noticed how his usual sarcastic remarks were missing.

Noticed how his sad, restless eyes kept drifting back to you when you weren’t looking.

Gareth caught it first. A flicker of something in Eddie’s expression when you laughed at something dumb Jeff said. It wasn’t jealousy. It was something heavier. A quiet kind of heartbreak.

Jeff saw it next.

The way Eddie's fingers twitched against the table like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t. The way his nose scrunched like he was trying to physically shake off a feeling he didn’t want.

They didn’t ask.

Didn’t push.

Just shared a quick glance between them, like they both felt the shift in Eddie, but knew better than to call him out on it.

Instead, they carried on, filling the silence Eddie left behind.

And you- you didn’t notice any of it.

You just kept talking, laughing, like everything was fine.

Like he hadn’t told you he loved you.

Like he hadn't spent hours beyond hours gluing, writing and re-writing, stamping and drawing, trying to make the perfect card to tell you how much he cares about you.

It was stupid anyway.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The hellfire was relatively quiet during lunch, Eddie gone to a drug deal and everybody else eating their face in to hide the loneliness of Valentine's day that haunts their single lives.

Every other girl had been given flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, All the gifts under the sun, but you? you just waited for the day you and Eddie got together.

You wanted it so desperately to happen, but it never has, he just didn't feel the same.

Your thoughts were flooded with the image of you, laying in bed alone watching sixteen candles while eating your ice-cream tonight until the cafeteria went quiet.

Then you heard your name.

Loud. Clear. Smug.

Your head snapped up, eyes locking onto Jason Carver, standing on top of a table, holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

People were watching. Some were laughing, some were wide-eyed with intrigue, leaning in like this was the best entertainment they’d had all year.

And Jason- Jason was reading.

"I don’t know how to say this to your face, so I’m saying it here. If I don’t, I never will. And I can’t- I can’t keep carrying this around inside me anymore, not when it’s getting harder and harder to pretend like I don’t feel the way I do."

Your brows furrowed slightly, stomach twisting with something uneasy.

"I don’t even know when it started. Maybe it was always there, just waiting for me to be stupid enough to realize it. But all I know is, one day I looked at you, and everything just... shifted. Like the whole world was a song, and you were the only thing keeping it in tune."

The room burst into a mix of laughter and mock gasps. Jason placed a dramatic hand on his heart.

"I love you."

Your chest tightened as you looked around, the whole room staring and laughing at you.

The Hellfire boys were frowning, their eyes wide.

"I love you in a way that keeps me up at night, in a way that makes everything else feel dull. Like nothing else matters when you’re in the room. Like I don’t know how I ever got through a day before you."

Jason gagged playfully, and more laughter rippled through the crowd, but you weren’t paying attention to them anymore.

Your breath was catching in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as Jason continued.

"I know I’m not what you deserve. I know I don’t have much to offer you, that I’m not the guy people picture when they think about who you should end up with. But I swear to God, if I could, I’d give you everything. I’d give you every stupid mixtape, every guitar riff I’ve ever learned, every last piece of me, just to see you smile."

Your hands curled into fists in your lap. Your head was spinning.

"I don’t need you to love me back. I just need you to know. Because if I don’t say it now, I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life."

A beat of silence.

And then- the final blow.

"From Eddie."

Everything in you froze.

The cafeteria roared- laughter, gasps, shouts. Someone whistled. Someone clapped. Jason grinned, milking the moment, waving the letter around like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Eddie?

Your head snapped up, searching wildly- and then you saw him.

Standing frozen in the cafeteria doorway, face pale, eyes dark and wide with something raw, something broken. His hands were shaking.

And in an instant, it all hit you.

This wasn’t a joke.

This wasn’t some prank; some made-up letter Jason had cooked up to humiliate you.

This was real.

Eddie had written that.

Eddie had written those words- for you.

And you had never seen them. Not until now.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Eddie was heading back to the cafeteria after doing a deal when he heard the room oddly quiet for a Friday afternoon.

He stood at back door when he heard familiar words.

Familiar in the sense that they are his, that he wrote them- that you ignored them.

'Like the whole world was a song, and you were the only thing keeping it in tune."

Eddie froze in place, his ears ringing, luckily no one had seen him yet, not that he even looked, everyone was blurred.

Everyone but you, he watched your reaction.

The frown on your face. the way your eyebrows furrowed deeply, the way you fiddled with your fingers, your eyes twitching when Jason read out 'I love you'

Eddie felt sick; he couldn't move.

His stomach twisting- his legs wobbling, his lip trembling as Jason finished the letter

How did he even get it in the first place? Eddie doesn't know.

And by the look on your face when you finally spot him, neither do you.

You never saw that letter in your life, you would know.

The whole Cafeteria burst out in a fit of laughter.

A hot burn welled in Eddie's eyes, his throat locking up.

He needed to get out. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand there and watch them all laugh at him, at you, at something that was supposed to be his.

So, before anyone could stop him- before you could look at him with whatever expression you were about to have- he turned and bolted.

The cafeteria doors slammed behind him as he stormed down the hall, wiping at his eyes furiously, cursing under his breath.

He was such an idiot.

Such a goddamn idiot.

How could he have been so stupid? Thinking- what, exactly? That you’d read it, and everything would be fine? That you’d somehow, miraculously, feel the same way?

He should’ve known better. He did know better.

He had given that to you yesterday, and you still hadn't mentioned it.

But that didn’t stop the hurt from swallowing him whole.

He didn’t hear the doors swing open behind him when he got to the front doors. Didn’t hear the hurried footsteps until-

“Eddie!”

Your voice.

His whole body tensed.

His steps faltered, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. If he turned around now, if he looked at you-

“Eddie, wait-please!”

Your voice cracked, just slightly, and it wrecked him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His breath was unsteady, his heart hammering like it wanted to break free from his chest.

He reached his van, his hands shakingly dropping the keys before he could open the door. You were still far away enough for him to quickly grab them and put the key in the lock, getting in the driver's seat. he turned on the engine when you reached his van.

He flinched when you knocked on the passenger window

His eyes snapped to the side, breath catching when he saw you standing there.

Your expression was unreadable, your lips parted like you didn’t know what to say yet.

Eddie’s throat burned. He quickly looked away, rubbing harshly at his nose, blinking hard to shove back the tears threatening to spill.

His fingers fumbled to start the van again- he just needed to go, to get out of here before you said whatever you were about to say.

But then- you opened the passenger door.

And you climbed in.

And you said nothing.

Eddie swallowed, staring straight ahead, barely breathing.

The silence stretched between you like a thick fog.

Then-

A rustling sound.

Something being placed gently on the dashboard.

Slowly, hesitantly, Eddie looked down.

His letter.

Crinkled, a little torn at the edges- but still intact.

His breath hitched. His fingers twitched toward it but stopped short.

How did you get it back from Jason?

And then he saw it.

The redness on your knuckles.

His eyes flicked up to yours, wide, startled.

You shrugged.

Eddie’s stomach twisted.

You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I punched him.”

Eddie blinked.

Your voice was calm, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like it was obvious.

Like you had always been on his side.

Something inside him cracked.

He dropped his head, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as his shoulders started to shake.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, voice thick, barely above a whisper.

You just watched him, quiet, waiting.

His hands were trembling. He wiped at his face roughly, still refusing to look at you.

Eddie let out another breath, pressing his fingers into his eyes, willing himself to get it together.

You reached out- gently, carefully- and took his hand.

You held his hand, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The silence felt heavier now, like the air itself was waiting for the answer to your question.

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, and finally asked- simple, direct- "Do you really love me?"

Eddie froze, his body tensing as the words hung in the air between you, raw and unspoken. His eyes flickered to yours, filled with something- fear and vulnerability and something deeper.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, staring at you like he wasn’t sure what to do next, like he hadn’t expected you to ask that.

But then, slowly, his hands moved away from the steering wheel, and he turned his head to face you fully. His breath was still shaky, his gaze intense, searching your face like he was looking for some kind of sign.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice raw, almost too soft to hear.

He looked ahead, leaning back in his seat as he nodded his head

"Yeah, I do"

You blushed furiously, now that it was just the two of you, you flet relaxed, it was just you and him.

You noticed his hesitance and smiled sadly

"Eddie it's ok, please, you don't have to be nervous. S'just me" you assured him

He shook his head "yeah that's kind of the reason why I'm nervous, sweetheart"

You pulled your hand away from his and fiddled with your fingers as you stared at him.

He was too pretty to look sad.

"and before you say I should have told you in person- then think again because this rejection is bad- imagine the rejection you'd give me in perso-" he started rambling, his fists locking on the steering wheel before you cut him off.

"-When did I reject you?" you frowned, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat "I'm never going to reject you, Eddie. I'm telling you that I feel the same way"

His eyes went wide as he whipped his head around, facing you once more

"Y-you do?!" he asked

"yes!" you smiled brightly when he grinned at you, his eyes glowing with emotion as you nodded

"you're not just saying that?" he asked self counsiously

You shook your head vigorously "not at all, Eds. You trust me, don't you?"

He looked down at the gear stick before nodding, a breathy laugh escaping his lips

"Yeah, I do" he said "I just don't understand how you didn't get the letter. I put it in your locker, number 142"

You thought for a moment before laughing

"Eddie, I switched lockers, remember? that dude beside me was a total creep? I'm three down from you now"

Eddie banged his head against his steering wheel, the loud honking noise making you jump, and he mumbled to himself

"Yep- yep I remember now, Jesus, I'm a fucking idiot" he mumbled, his leg bouncing

You leaned over, reaching your hand over his arm, rubbing over his tattoo when he leaned away from the wheel, gazing up at you from the contact of your fingertips tracing over the swarm of bats.

"You're not an idiot..." you hummed, leaning closer as you raced your other hand up his chest, your fingers finding the curls of his hair.

His smile was dopey and lazy as he looked at you, his own hands finding your waist shakily.

He was so scared, afraid that if he touched you, you'll disappear, but alas, you are still in the passenger seat, shuffling towards him, the hand in his hair making its way towards the back of his neck

This was a dream-like experience for Eddie, your hands roaming his body so softly it gives him goosebumps, sending shivers down his spine

"It might be a little late but... did you want to be my valentine?" you asked.

He blushed and nodded like a schoolgirl at your question. "T'would be my honour, sweetheart"

You beamed at him and kissed his cheek sweetly, finding the way he leaned in closer to you so cute.

"are you gonna make me a card?" He mumbled, leaning in close to dig his nose into your neck, his hands rubbing over your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders

"Of course I will. and I'll personally give it to you, no locker mix-up this time" you nodded

He chuckled softly, murmuring against the skin of your neck.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#imagines #fluff #x fem!reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson #oneshot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #ami's valentine event #happy valentine's day #eddie munson x fem #valentines day

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