#those two were fruity DAY ONE too

[emotionallyunstabl]

i love agent stone and all but like whos fucking idea was it to add their oc to the sonic movies.

heres my character 🧍they are eggmans PERSONAL assistant ☕️🧑‍🔬 they make GREAT coffee 💗🙈🙉 they are in love 👬👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨❤️🤭🫣😋

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

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[elsroseytoy]

♡૮꒰⸝⸝ ⑅ ◞◟⸝⸝꒱ა make me juno 🎀🧁🤍

♡ pairing: blue!collar abby and housewife!reader

♡ synopsis: you and abby have been married for two years now, and you love your little domestic life in your cute house sitting on the countryside, waking up snuggled in your wife's huge arms, getting to bake her pretty scones in your frilly apron to spoil her with when she get's home, but lately something important been's gnawing at your senses and fogging your thoughts ….

♡ cw: housewife reader is very feminine, baby fevered reader, basically just these twos backstory to start them of right <3

an: wanted to make this one part but decided to release this to introduce these two sweethearts and there dynamic — smut in part two!!! if you enjoy this please lmk in my asks id love to know 🎀

You always imagined being a mom as a little girl, like many little girls - whether it was tucking your babydoll into bed or baby sitting the little baby next door, it came real naturally to you. And you liked knowing one day you'd be prepared. never leave a baby alone in a car. they can't sleep belly down. All the important basics. But you never pushed it onto yourself, not when deciding if there was a thing as too much blush (there defiantly isn't, right?) was hard enough in those days - just trying to survive as a girl was hard in itself! It was just a nice fantasy to cradle in the back of the head as you ventured through your party girl 20s. That is until the most attractive, buffest, hottest women strolled into your life. Well technically, you strolled into hers but who's counting! It was Abby for god's sake, your now wife, you liked to think it was destiny really.

The memory still replayed in your head.

It was one of those nights you see in movies - a group of sparkly, done-up girls sitting at the pub more to laugh and giggle then actually enjoy the fruity drinks they kept ordering more of, and you, fixing your gloss as your girlfriends chatted away. You got bits of pieces of the buzz "Oh my god guys what episode is everyone on in gossip girl's?" and "He went down on you right? he didn't, oh girl fuck no. He's always been a little boy what did I say-" Playing with your straw, Sure, you were listening, of course you were, it was just hard to even be heard above all the chatter, opening and closing your lips repeatably. You sighed and gave up, resorting to reading the array of cheesy bar quotes and license plates varying from all around the country. Your priscilla-lashed eyes scanned the dim room. An older, wallowing man sat at the bar, hunched over himself you almost felt bad for him but a group of sneering collage boys had you more disgusted than anything. Frowning to yourself you turned away, going back to fiddling with your pink-orangey drink and that's when your eyes landed on her - And you think the butterflies in your stomach hatched right then and there.

Oh. my. god.

She sat at the bar in front of you, a dirty blond braid reaching her lower back. you couldn't place what made her so- so hypnotizing. Maybe it was the way she leaned over with one arm thrown over the chair and the other nursing a dark drink of some sorts, like she was so nonchalant, so okay about looking like that. You'd been with buff women before - but they were all so overly arrogant, like they'd rather get off by looking at themselves in the mirror while you writhed cluelessly on top of them. Just real assholes. Of course she was probably proud of her physique, she had to be, but the way she held herself made your panties glossy to the touch, squeezing your thighs together coyly... God, you weren't even ovulating! you felt like a giddy fool blinking your sticky lashes at her, she was facing away from you, she couldn't see you, but you wish she could, even just for a second-

"wow, heyy, earth to you" Jumping you squeaked and tried to pull your thoughts together "uh- sorry! What were you saying-"

"girl" Everyone was looking at you. Please say they didn't see.

"M just tired-" It was really no use.

"If dream boat over there is making your tired we need to check your eyesight"

They definitely saw and suddenly it was girl world rampage. "Girl you need to go talk to her oh em gee!" "Babe she's hotttt-" "C'mon we all saw the way you were looking at her!" Please, nooo! But before you could yelp your protests your chair was pulled out from under you, somehow being pushed into scurry mode - even the frowny face you shot back at them did little to nothing "go!"

"M' going!" You pulled at your short skirt, played with the shiny highlighter layered on the edges of your eyes, fixed your heart necklace, anything to hide the fluttering of your heart. Were you really doing this?! yep, you really defiantly were, you felt like a school girl and maybe it was the alcohol but there you were, tapping shyly on her shoulder. Maybe you should just run, text your friends once you're a few mere miles away- "Oh hey, i know you?" This was happening, I want you to, is what you wanted to say - but your breath was knocked out of you and replaced by some other girl. Ms. panic mode. "Uh no- I don't think so, I just- well, your drink looked really good, I-um was wondering what you got-" She liked how your lips quivered between a smile, damn, you were cute, she thought - your eyes darting between her, smirking, and your group of not-so-coy eavesdropping friends. You on the other hand wanted to die right then and there. She couldn't help herself. "Fuck, y'know your right" Your brows furrowed together cutely, confused "About um- what?" Poking her cheek with her tongue she answered "I mean you're too pretty not to remember" With that your brain went into overdrive!

"Can I give you my number" You blurted out, it just came out, so fast the moment it left your mouth you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it and then suddenly she looked at you like that- "Been waiting for you to ask" Your lifted you brows just the slightest "Fuck no I mean- that sounded arrogant I just meant I was gonna ask for your's it was bound to happen y'know" Now she was the one rambling on, she lifts her hands guiltily and you can't help but giggle - the sweetest sound she ever did hear. "Here's my phone you can just, well yeah" Your face heats up as your fingers graze hers just the tiniest bit. how did it feel so natural?

"Hello kitty?" Her eyes quip up at you. "Don't be like that!" You giggle again and yep, she's shaking her head and smiling to herself. She thinks she's done that more in those two minutes than ever before "Okay, okay- sorry. But you sure you don't still want my drink order pretty girl?" She cleared her throat because it sounded a lot better in her head - luckily you didn't catch on, not even to your girlfriends practically cheering from across the room "Mhm, maybe" She pulled out your stool and of course you sat your grinning bottom down on it, especially as she added "Let me make up the hello kitty comment yeah?"

Three years later and that was dreamy history. Stored away in your late night cuddle chats and sunny dinner convos. Though your emotions weren't too awfully different from that sparkly party girl a lifetime ago. Just like that evening in the pub, your life could take a turn because today was the day.

Pacing in the kitchen, the day you would finally ask her.

For Abby though this was any other normal workday. nothing out of the ordinary as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, thanks to the merciless sun she cursed under her breath. She loved the work, loved having things to haul - but the heat could fuck itself off. Okay, yeah, she was being dramatic, especially because she lounged in the air conditioned workroom. She threw her feet over a rugged coffee table tugging off her work books, the sun was starting to set of course she was just being dramatic about the days heat. Who could blame her, she liked complaining knowing she got to come home to your sweet kisses and pretty face. Fuck though every work day was the same, she wouldn't want it any other way. Not when you were the thing she did all this for - she needed to feel useful, especially when you gave her the love you did without a cost. This happiness that held no strings (she loved when you rolled your doe eyes every time she said such bullshit, of course you loved her with no end!)

"See ya' Anderson, say hi to the Ms. for me will ya?" He was a big fella, looked like he could kill you with a glance but he wasn't all the different from her - just trying to provide for his family, went through the day imagining the moment he got to see his wife at the end of the day. She liked him. An appreciative nod from her end and just like him, Ab's won't have to imagine much longer.

Home. God, she loved walking through the door. It never got old. Your two's little house sitting on a nice countryside, other families spread her and there - but this was your boths. Everything down to the pink roses you planted out front, to the big, drappy willow trees that were essentially the first thing that made you two fall in love with it. A warm, cinnamony scent wafted through the small space. Two dirty boot's thrown over the shoe rack you insisted on getting 'It's no different than the dirty rug you've been using...' 'she has a name baby- im just kidding! okay fine yeah you win!' She smiled every time she saw it - but right now something else distracted her. You. "Hey, sweetheart"

"Abs!"

Her heart did a little flip as you flipped around, with the prettiest smile she'd ever see - there was not an ounce of competition when it came to you. Nothing compared to seeing you in that creamy pink polka dot apron you loved so much, she loved so much. Her being the thing you scurried over to every day, socks sliding on the 50s style kitchen tile and throwing your arms around her. Fuck, yep nothing compared. Except maybe getting to melt into you, let the tension of the day fall off her shoulders as she breathed you in. Strawberries and something more, something she could never name. No name was good enough to place it, all she knew was it was something she wanted to hold forever. Protect with all she had. "Missed you so much ab's" you held her tighter than usual, like she would disappear into thin air if you didn't. She actually probably would. "I know baby, I know, missed you too." Tilting your chin up to rub your cheek with her thumb, she wanted to kiss away the crinkling of your brows, just the slightest tiniest crease had alarms going off in her head "damn this lipgloss. always getting in the way of me and my wife" She tried, of course you smiled, giggled a bit "It's real good for your lips Abby" had her smiling real big, but there was an shy glaze to your posture. Playing with your fingers something you only did so rarely. What was up with her girl? Nothing could help but try. She knew you.

"Everything all good? You seem anxious mama" Mama. Your already fluttery heart jumped in your chest, flew right into outer space - nothing was rare about her calling your mama, switching between that and her wife. But in that moment it had you skipping words, instead turning your back hurriedly as you finished up what you were doing. Of course she read you like a book! you cursed the unhelpful butterflies that seemed to transfer to your cheeks and eyes "M fine! Just- a bit tired. Went to the down town market today, got sum flour and brown sugar for cookies!" You feigned, tone oh-so-candy-sweet. Ab's did that thing she always did when she didn't quite believe you, a click of her tongue - just out of earshot, the littlest bullshit she mustered as she brushed it off, coming up behind you to help.

"I made your favorite Ab's... been working so much lately I wanted to do something for you" You meant it. There was just a little tiny hidden meaning behind all this. The thing that had you all nervous and foggy brained. But you needed to bring it up. If not now then when really. "Being my girl is more than enough"

A few repeating oven beeps and a shower later you two sat at your light wood dinner table, assorted with fresh rolls and Ab's favorite (don't be fooled she adored everything you cooked) sweet potato roast. And of course it wouldn't be dinner with Abbys repeated mhm's and fuck these are incredible's. And the smallest round table probably in the entire world, so small Abbys feet touched yours, her hand holding yours a habit she didn't even realize - you though lingered on every single detail, an add on of nervousness you wanted to throw out the window and stomp on. You took a shaky breath, still imagining tossing this nervousness into the pretty swaying willow trees…. your and Abby’s swaying trees. Something beautiful shared between the two of you. Loved by the two of you. The thought was like the warm spice moving through the kitchen, it folded itself over your worries, barring itself right there over them. It was just what you needed, Finally turning towards your wife.

"What is it baby?" Abbys face is nothing short of concern, squeezing your hand in hers. You gulp, eyes blinking but you know it’s time. “Abby I’ve been thinking— for a bit now, well ever since that baby shower in august really”

She squeezes your hand, urging you. “I want to have a baby” blurting out seemed to be the summary of big advances in your twos relationship n you think your heart stops for a moment when she says “a baby—”

to be continued …. 💗

[mediumgayitalian]

"Don't cry."

"...I'm not."

"Omigods. Will. Don't cry."

"I'm not!"

But there are welled up tears making his eyes looking huge, and even as he bites it his lip still trembles. In seconds there is the slightest of sniffles.

Nico groans, slumping against the handle of the grocery cart. A WASPy mother glares at him in passing. He glares back and sics an errant soul onto her monstrosity of a hairdo for good measure.

"Will," he groans, metal bar digging into his forehead, "Will, it's a lemon."

"I know," Will sniffles, bravely. "Just -- leave it. Let's go."

Nico moves his arm, just enough to watch his too-tall over-empathetic dumbass best friend try and fail to pull himself together in the, and Nico cannot emphasize this enough, very public grocery store in the suburbs of Long Island, where people stare.

And, like.

The staring is not too unusual.

Will is in cutoff shorts and flip-flops. It's early March. Climate change is not that bad yet. The two of them are wearing neon camp t-shirts -- Nico's good, goth t-shirts have been stolen from him to be 'washed' -- and are both, Nico must emphasize again, fifteen years of age, with a grocery cart each full to the actual brim with Pop Tarts, Twizzlers, medical supplies, socks, and silly string. Will is approximately nineteen feet tall. They make a scene. That is a fair evaluation.

But rare is the day where Nico cannot quell the stares by reflecting hellfire into his eyes. Mortals usually flee in terror or at least walk away traumatized. Today they aren't even looking.

"Will," he says, as gently as he can manage. Will looks over, after a minute, and his bright eyes look so glassy and miserable that whoa, hey, Nico can manage a whole lot gentler than he thought he could, can't he. He reaches up and pats a palm against Will's wet cheek, swiping a thumb under his eyes. "Do you. Want." He glances over at the lone, half-dried up lemon on the floor by the produce baskets. "Would you like to take the lemon home with us.

"Yes," says Will quietly. Nico's hand falls away and Will wipes his face, crouching down to scoop it up. He hesitates before putting it in the cart, cradling it against his chest. "It's just." He looks at Nico through his eyelashes. Nico tries to smile encouragingly. Based on the immediate tears and sobbing of a child directly behind Will's shoulders, he is unsuccessful. "If we don't take it, no one will, you know."

"Yes," agrees Nico slowly. "Due to the fact that it is garbage."

Will snatches his hand back like Nico had smacked it, glaring hard. Nico is really starting to consider those bipolar pamphlets Kayla left pointedly on the Apollo table. Yeesh.

"It's not -- garbage! Just because -- just because something isn't as good as everything else doesn't mean it's garbage!"

...Or not.

Ah.

"Ah," says Nico. He clears his throat. "Ah."

Some cultures attribute tact and gentleness to his father -- Death accepts all, and in facts invites all, to reside with Him. He will take your hand and guide you to whence you have never travelled, where you have no kin. He will speak to you in your shock of your life and your triumphs. He, when you have no one, is your compassionate, voluble friend.

Hazel inherited all that, unfortunately. Nico got the dead-eyed stare and fruitiness.

"Uh," he tries, anyway, "if you were a rotten lemon, I would take you home."

Will looks at him skeptically. "You would?"

"Y -- uh, yes. I would make." He wracks his brain. "I would use you to clean surfaces."

"...Oh."

"Yes. Like -- chopping boards, and the like." He makes a karate chop motion with his hand. He immediately takes the hand and shoves it into the untraveled depths of his pocket, which is a challenge due to the fact that it took him forty minutes to paint his jeans on this morning, and vows to cut its quisling digits off as quickly as possible. Why is he alive.

He is grateful at least that his friend is about as stupid as he is.

"That would be a good use for me if I was a rotting lemon," Will agrees. He looks down at the rotting lemon cradled in his hands. "Maybe we will use you to clean."

"Yes," Nico says, gentle coaxing. "Now let's put the lemon in the cart, okay? We're almost done. We just need the nineteen quarts of ice cream Cecil paid me ninety dollars not to disclose to Chiron. Let's go."

"'Kay."

Garbage lemon safely laid among a braid of licorice packages, dead centre in the cart, they move on. The stares follow them, but Will at least does not seem to mind -- used to it, veteran camper that he is -- and slides his arm through Nico's crooked elbow. Nico takes that as the opportunity it is to steer him away from the cake that a nefarious teenager has pushed to the floor, lest that set him off next. They have only minutes until they make it to the cash register, where Nico will pay for whatever Will is watching him scan, and are home free.

"Hey, Nico."

Nico hums, eyeing the self-checkout line. "Yeah?"

"Would we still be friends if I was a worm?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

[starsinthesky5]

So we know how you said songbird went to his games when she could during the initial few months of them dating but stayed away from the cameras, fans, his suite, his family, etc. Tell us some deets about how all that went down? Like with her at the games? Did she have her own private box?? Did she ever bring her friends over? Or maybe his friends were keeping her company?

a/n: did this instead of an assignment and i'm fine with that. this was TOO cute for me

wc: 1.4k

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

oh yes. let’s get into the nitty-gritty deets of it all, because those early days of her going to his games? they were intimate in a way only the two of them really understood.

she was always careful about slipping in without being noticed—quiet, planned a whole route and everything. usually getting there early, before the stands began to fill, tucked into her little private suite with a drink in hand and a hoodie draped over her shoulders, or sometimes had one of his hats on. she’d keep her head down, avoid the main entrances, and wave off anyone offering to escort her through a more public route. this part of their relationship was still theirs, still private, and she intended to protect that.

she wasn’t there for show. no screaming her lungs out in the front row, no decked out head-to-toe in “burrow” gear and a ring light for instagram photos, and definitely no sitting with cameras panning over to her in the suite with his family—not yet. she wanted joe to know she supported him, but she wasn’t about to turn it into a spectacle. the relationship was still fresh, fragile in a way, and sacred. their little bubble meant everything.

joe handled it, though. of course he did. he pulled strings to get her a private box whenever she came—tucked up high, shaded glass, separate entrance so she didn’t have to go through the madness of the crowd. he even made sure she had her own pass so she could come in the back way at the stadium. always thinking of her. always protective.

and he went all out in there too—the suite was cozy, borderline romantic if you squinted. he had it decorated with some photos of them, posters of her from her performances over the years, some candles that she loved and placed around his house were also brought over, her favorite blankets in the cupboard because he knew she’d get cold. her favorite drink waiting on ice every time she came in, refills scheduled every hour. even snacks she mentioned casually once...

--

examples:

sour patch watermelon because he remembered her saying once that she only craved sour stuff when she was nervous. the box was always there. sometimes even two just in case ;)

soft pretzels & nacho cheese, a stadium classic—but joe had them bring in real ones. like, the big, buttery, fresh-baked kind, still warm, with that perfectly salty crust. and of course, multiple dipping options: classic cheese, honey mustard, and a spicy queso because he knew she liked a little kick.

fruit cups—but like, bougie ones. we’re talking fresh-cut strawberries, pineapple, mango, kiwi. no weird cantaloupe filler. she liked light, refreshing stuff, especially if she was sipping on a little rosé or a fruity seltzer while watching.

aaaand mini sliders because sometimes a girl needs real food. and joe made sure there were tiny burgers or chicken sliders on deck, with all her fave toppings. pickles on the side, obviously.

--

he’d even send a note with a team staffer—little scribbled words of appreciation and love from the locker room on a plain white napkin, even if they didn't directly call it love just yet, or inside jokes just to make her smile before kickoff. and the cutest thing was, she kept every single note in a little pink box :)

and when she brought her besties with her?? it chaos in the cutest way.

the private suite instantly turned into their little haven—the girls curled up in the seats with throw blankets, drinks in hand, all of them absolutely decked out in bengals gear. if she wasn't going to dress to the nines because she wanted to avoid the attention, they'd do it for her!

but...she still repped her man in subtle ways. the oversized black crewneck she wore casually over leggings? joe’s. it smelled like his cologne and had the faintest stain from some post-practice smoothie he swore wasn’t his fault. the dainty gold necklace glinting beneath her collar? it had a tiny football charm next to his number, something he got her on a whim and clasped around her neck before every game she came to. her nails were painted orange and black, one of her socks inside out (iykyk), and she even had a few bengals friendship bracelets on.

her friends loved to tease her—especially during warmups, when joe would jog out onto the field and glance up at the suite, looking for her the second he stepped on the turf.

"there he is," one of them would sigh dramatically, nudging her with a grin.

"your boy is literally staring up here like he's never seen sunlight until you walked in,".

"okay but do we blame him?" another chimed in. "i’d stare too. you’re hot,".

she’d just roll her eyes, cheeks warm, sipping her drink to hide the smile tugging at her lips. but she couldn’t deny it—not when he kept glancing up mid-drive, subtle little nods or smirks sent her way, like they were sharing a secret no one else could crack.

they’d whistle when he made a big play, shout "that's my brother-in-law!" just to mess with her, giggle anytime he did anything remotely cocky on the field because they knew he was showing off for her.

"you think he heard us?".

"oh, babe. he feels the energy,".

"honestly," one of them would joke during a timeout, "i think he plays better when you’re here. like, statistically. we should graph it,".

when she didn’t bring her own friends along to a game, joe would always make sure someone he trusted was there to keep her company—usually one of his high school boys, who treated her like one of them from day one. they’d keep things light, cracking jokes and tossing popcorn her way during slow stretches of the game, knowing exactly how to draw a laugh out of her. sometimes one of them would lounge back beside her, hoodie pulled over his head, teasing her like, "joey’s gonna be all smiles tonight if he knows you’re up here watching,".

and then there were other familiar faces—maybe a team staffer or someone from joe’s inner circle she’d gotten along with early on—who’d stop in to say hey or hang for a bit. nothing too formal, never overwhelming. just a chill vibe. easy, comfortable. like she belonged there, without ever needing the spotlight.

but when it was just her? oh, she’d be curled up, watching him like a hawk. she knew the game—grew up with it—so she wasn’t just there to look pretty. she was dissecting the plays, analyzing coverage, chewing on her lip when something got tense. the second he took a hit, her stomach dropped. and when he stood back up? the relief was palpable. she was dialed in. her whole body moved with the rhythm of the game. and joe? he knew she was there. he’d glance toward the boxes sometimes. just a flick of his eyes. no expression. but she’d catch it. and later, after the game—win or lose—he’d find her. press his forehead to hers and whisper, "i saw you," like it grounded him.

speaking of after the game, she’d stay late, too—waiting patiently in the quiet comfort when most of the stadium had emptied, her feet curled up beneath her on the plush couch, scrolling through photos of him from the game or absentmindedly scribbling song lyrics in her notebook.

and then he’d come find her.

he always did.

after he said his goodbyes to his parents and the media, after the interviews and locker room buzz faded, he’d slip into her suite like a secret just for her. cheeks a little flushed, hair damp from the shower, jersey swapped for a soft cotton tee and joggers.

"hi, baby," he’d murmur, eyes soft, voice smoother than honey like the game hadn’t just happened and all that mattered now was her.

and she’d grin, arms already outstretched. "hey, superstar,".

he’d cross the room in seconds, drop his bag, wrap her up in his arms and bury his face in her neck. all sweaty-boy affection and heart-swelling sweetness. sometimes he’d just hold her for a bit, like he needed to recharge, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her hoodie to find her skin.

"you waited for me," he’d mumble against her shoulder.

"always,".

and god—he’d melt. every time.

they didn’t need the world to know—not yet. because they knew. and those private little sundays? those were everything.

[glittter-vamp]

One Size Fits…Most

Joe Burrow x Plus Size Latina OC.

Warnings: Angsty. Mention of characters size. Body image issues. Mention of alcohol. Mention of cheating. If this sucked, my bad it’s been a minute since I’ve written & I decided to do something different than my usual work. (Proof read…kinda)

Looking in the mirror one last time Marisol made her way out of the hotel room and to the elevator. Her heels clicking as she walked through the lobby, feeling the eyes of strangers on her. "There she is, woah you look great." Mandy her old college roommate smiled as she waited in the southern heat for the car taking them to the wedding venue. "Thank you, you look great too. Green has always been your color." Marisol smiles as she hugs her old roommate hello. "And silk has always been amazing on you!" She smiles looking at her silk colorful dress. "I almost wore black but this Louisiana sun is not for that." Marisol chuckled. "Hell no it's not." Mandy agrees.

The car taking them both to the venue arrives and they get into the cool vehicle, immediately relieved of the hot humid air from outside. Greeting the nice female driver, the two of them mostly sit in silence on the way over there until Mandy speaks up again. "You think we're going to be the only ones without dates?" Mandy asks looking out of the window making you chuckle. "Nah, Jade told me Natasha called off her engagement."

"What!? Her and Andrew were together since freshman year of college? What happened there?" Mandy asks in shock. "She caught him on Grindr..." Marisol mutters and Mandy gasps. "Oh poor Tasha..." She pouts.

Arriving at the venue a few minutes later, you two already see a few familiar faces. "This going to be like a LSU college reunion isn't it?" Mandy sighs as we pick up a glass of champagne. "Unfortunately." Marisol lets out a sigh of annoyance. "Is...you know who invited?" Mandy asks. "Don't have a clue, Jade didn't mention him at all so I don't think so." She responds as her eyes skim the crowd of people, feeling more and more at ease as the person she's looking for never comes into her view. The wedding is starting in about 5 minutes so, she was sure everyone that was coming to the wedding, was simply already there.

********************************************

Cheers erupted as the couple kissed and walked down the aisle hand in hand. Everyone around was sweating in this heat and were probably happy for the couple as much as they were happy to get out of the direct sunlight. While the happy couple made their way to family to take pictures we all walked over to the big white tents to cool off and grab some waters or fruity little drink. I'm going to run to the bathroom really quick, would you get me that dragon berry drink on the menu?" Mandy asks Marisol and she nods. Heading over to the open bar, Marisol asks the bartender for the drink Mandy wanted and ordered herself a spiked lemonade to help with the heat a little.

"Marisol?" She hears a familiar voice behind her, she turns to see none other than Ja'Marr Chase. "Oh, hey! Wow long time no see!" Marisol gives him a friendly hug. "How you doing? I see you traveling all over the world on instagram." Ja'Marr smiles. "I've been good and just working and traveling." Marisol nods. The bartender hands her over both drinks and she thanks him setting them in front of her. "I thought your days of crazy drinking would be over after LSU." Ja'Marr jokes seeing both drinks. Marisol chuckles shaking her head. "They are, one of them is for Mandy." She informs him. "Mandy's here? And to think Justin almost came." Ja'Marr mutters. "He didn't because of her, Jade told me." Marisol responds and Ja'Marr nods understanding.

"Well I gotta say, I'm surprised you're here then." Ja'Marr says and Marisol gives him confused look before she notices exactly who he was talking about. The man that broke her heart all those years ago, the big shot quarterback of LSU and the Bengals...Joe Burrow. "Ja'Marr!? Hey!" Mandy approaches us, greeting Ja'Marr as Marisol tries her best to remain calm. She practically chugged down the lemonade she ordered.

Marisol didn't think she would see Joe here. She thought he would be too busy with his lavish lifestyle or felt too important to be here at an old college friends wedding in New Orleans. But, there he was. In a expensive pastel blue tux that brought out his eyes in a breath taking way.

Ja'Marr excuses himself before going over to Joe. Marisol immediately turns around and orders another drink, something stronger. "I saw him leaving the bathroom, I tried getting to you before you saw him but then you were talking to Ja'Marr." Mandy grimaces as she sips her drink and looks at Marisol. "Do you know where we're siting?" She asks Mandy. "The table chart is over there, you think Jade would sit us all together?" Mandy asks. "I mean, it would make sense to sit people who know each other together." Marisol responds as she watches the bartender make her drink.

After getting her drink, she makes her way to the table chart written in script and in chalk. Looking at all the table numbers and names. Marisol finds her name under table eleven, she see's Mandy's name, a few familiar names, Ja'Marr and there it was...Joe's. "Damn it." Marisol mutters. The last thing she wanted to do was to be seated at the same table for the next 5 or 6 hours as Joe. "You're going to need a lot more liquor huh?" Mandy sighs looking at what Marisol was looking at. "Just don't let me get too drunk." Marisol looks over at her.

********************************************

The DJ they had at the reception made the announcement for everyone to take their seats for the grand entrance of the newlyweds. It just so happened that Marisol and Joe were seated directly in front of each other. As if this night couldn't get any worse for Marisol. "You think anyone would notice if I just...left?" Marisol asked Mandy, making her roll her eyes. "Yes! You'll be fine just focus on everyone else here. Plus...that guy over there keeps looking at you." Mandy looks over to a handsome guy in a tux, one of the groomsmen. "He looks very young."

"So? He's at least over 21 because he's drinking. Have some fun and don't worry about someone from your past." Mandy says to Marisol. Maybe she was right Marisol thought. Just as she grabbed her champagne glass, Joe sat in front of her again. Making stomach turn a bit. She hated the way he made her feel, almost sick.

Joe made eye contact with her, Marisol making sure she was giving him the stink eye. Joe clearly understanding the message and giving her a look full of sorrow. The DJ announce's the newlyweds and everyone's attention flips to them, clapping and smiling.

Dinner begins to get served, Marisol looking everywhere else but right in front of her. The first course of her dinner was good, they brought out the salad she had picked but the second plate wasn't correct. They brought our salmon but she was allergic to it. Before she speak up another voice does.

 

"Excuse me, but she can't eat that. She allergic." Joe says from across the table to the man serving the food. Mandy and Ja'Marr looking over at the both of them, Marisol sitting there in a sort of shock before she clears her throat and tells the server herself.

The server looks at them oddly with a bit of confusion but takes back the plate and apologizes. Marisol looks over at Joe but doesn't say anything. She was surprised he even remembered that about her. The time she ate salmon at some football banquet he invited her too and she broke out in hives right after. They spent the rest of the night in the E.R while she got treated for it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the server came back with the chicken she had requested instead on the invitation. "My apologies Miss, it seems that I got confused with the seating. I can assure you there's no cross contamination with the food" The man says to her. Marisol just thanks him and begins to eat her food, which she barely finished because she didn't even have appetite to begin with. She still couldn't get over the fact she had to endure a night of Joe. 

The speeches start to begin from the parents of the newlyweds to their siblings to the maid of honor and best man. After the speeches, the first dance began and then the partying started to happen. Marisol quickly made her way over to get another drink. As she ordered herself an old fashion, from the corner of her eye she saw Joe stand next to her. Rolling her eyes and clenching her jaw she did her best to ignore him. 

"You shouldn't be mixing different types of liquor like that." Joe says to Marisol, the sound of his voice almost causing her to step on his foot with her stiletto heel. Instead, she just ignores him. "You're just going to ignore me all night?" He scoffs; Marisol still doesn't say a word back as she waits for her drink. "You need to let what happened go." Joe shakes his head in disbelief that she would still hold this grudge against him. "And you need to stop talking to me, guess we're both not getting what we want." Marisol rolls her eyes as her blood was starting to boil with anger. The audacity Joe had right now was mind boggling to her. The way he dared to even speak to her right now and then proceed to tell her that she needs to let things go. 

"Mare-" Joe starts. "No! Don't you dare call me that." Marisol snaps at him before the bartender comes back with the drink where she thanks him and walks away from Joe. Only for him to follow her. "Look, let's just talk this out." Joe says stopping her in her tracks as the lights dim and the music somehow grows louder. "I have nothing to talk to you about Joe. You made it very clear 4 years ago that a girl like me didn't fit your little superstar quarterback life." Marisol snapped at him, Joe rolled his eyes. "It was more complicated than that Marisol, you know that." He snapped back. "Joe, you brought up the idea to me to have a fake girlfriend that better fit your public lifestyle." Marisol said back to him, anger boiling in her. 

"It wasn't me, it was my publicist and some people from the team at the time." Joe tries to defend himself. "I don't care who it was Joe...you were the one all for it.” Marisol rolls her eyes. “It was a tough time okay, I was still figuring things out.”

“You seemed pretty damn happy after we ended things. Right off the bat you were with a Victoria secret model.” Marisol scoffs. “She was never a Victoria Secret model” Joe scoffs back which annoyed Marisol even more that he chose to focus on that part of things.

“Look, you need to grow up & get over what happened. We had a stupid fling in college and that was it. You seriously thought we were going to have a happy ending? We’re from two different worlds.” Joe said thinking that was going help, Marisol’s heart feeling like it was breaking once again. She loved Joe back then, she was there for him during the tough times at LSU. When the other players weren’t taking him seriously. When he was having a hard time balancing school work and football. When he ran out of money to eat, she would even share proper meals with him so he didn’t have to rely on ramen until his parents gave him his monthly allowance and he could go grocery shopping again.

“You don’t need to remind me that you just used me. I know that’s exactly what you did. Used me for your benefit, emotionally and physically…but I will never act like that was okay. You lead me on. I won’t apologize for not being this thin and perfect girl that the beloved quarterback gets.” Marisol tells Joe trying her very hardest not to get emotional over a guy she swore she left in the past.

“We wouldn’t have worked.” Joe responds, mostly seeming like he was trying to convince himself. “You can tell yourself that, it won’t change what happened and how I feel now. If having a woman that the world deems physically conventionally attractive is more important than what we had, that’s on you. But don’t act like you weren’t at my door almost every night trying to get a piece of me. Or begging me to come over to do that thing you liked. At the end of the day you will always be the coward that couldn’t handle the “fat girl” & the star quarterback who still can’t get a ring.” Marisol smirks leaving Joe standing there with his jaw clenched and nose flaring.

Marisol stands tall as she walked away from Joe. Hips swaying because she knows no matter her size she’s beautiful & deserves the best. She walks over to Mandy in the crowd of people dancing. “Where were you?!” She yells over the loud music. “Getting a drink, now where’s that cute guy that was staring at me earlier?” Marisol asks and Mandy gives her a smirk.

—————————————————————-

Part Two? 👀

[lulunothulu]

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Latina Reader

Summary: Bob doesn’t drink but when he does, he turns into Hangman 2.0

Content: flirty Bob, 18+ some touching, kissing

For the sake of this fic, you’re a beautiful Latina baddie also bc I’m selfish and wanna see more Latina rep. in fics lol

Hard deck was unusually louder than any other Friday night. There were ten times more people here because of Labor Day weekend and Bob didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Baby On Board!” Jake shouts over the noise. “Why don’t you drink and mingle? Maybe finding a girl to fuck will do something good for you.”

Bob could smell the alcohol on Jake’s breath and he pinched his lips together.

I guess one night of drinking wouldn’t hurt.

Bob didn’t drink often. He wasn’t really a fan of the taste of beer, he preferred something fruity but drinking that in front of Jake would’ve definitely riled him up.

So instead, Bob took the beer Jake handed him and began to sip on it. Next thing he knew he was five beers in and smiling like an idiot at Natasha.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“I think I wanna go mingle,” he slurs, looking around the room at all the beautiful women.

He stops when his eyes fall on her. She’s sitting in the back corner of the bar, laughing at something her friends say before her own eyes meet his.

He was in shock. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Big brown eyes so dark they were almost onyx, head full of unruly dark chocolate curls that fell down her back…and that smile. God that smile could’ve made a man melt right then and there.

“I’m talking to her,” Bob says as he begins to walk toward the beautiful girl he just laid eyes on.

~*~*~*~

You were sitting on a stool, sipping on the last of your beer as your friends talked about the aviators to your left.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend Kate slurs. “There’s a cute guy coming your way.”

You turn to your right to see a man in the khaki uniform Aviators in the Navy wear. His eyes are dark blue, basically navy. On his thin lips, a sloppy smile appears when you finally make eye contact with him.

“He’s cute,” you tell them.

“And he’s coming,” Kate laughs.

“Hi,” the man says, a hand placed on the table next to you. “I’m Bob.”

He’s even more handsome up close. His glasses are pushed down the bridge of his nose, so you reach up and lightly push them back up.

“Hi, Bob,” you respond. “I’m Y/N.”

“I saw you over there,” he starts, pointing to where his buddies watch. “And thought you were the most gorgeous woman in this bar.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

He blushes at your remark but leans in and whispers, “Wanna dance?”

~*~*~*~

A dance turned into two dances, and then those two dances turned into three dances, including your ass pressed up against his already hard dick—which then turned into you pulling Bob into a dark hallway.

His large hands desperately grasped at your hips, sliding up your body and tangling at your scalp. His lips expertly searching and hungrily chasing after yours to deepen the kiss.

To him, you were soft in so many ways. From your soft lips to the smoothness of your skin, Bob wanted to stay here. Hell, he’d live in this dark hallway if he could.

His hands rake down your sides again, they stay at the waistband of your jeans.

“Can I?” He asks, playing with the button.

“Please do.”

His fingers move quickly as they unbutton and unzip your jeans before his right hand slides down the front of your pants. They move between the slickness between your folds and you moan in agonizing want.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans.

His fingers move in a circular motion over your clit, pleasure ringing and erupting all over your body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” you whisper back, surprising yourself in the process.

He smiles against you, snaking two fingers lower into your jeans before sliding up and into you.

He moves them slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his touch. But when you start to groan and grind against his fingers, he quickens his pace—kissing and sucking on your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting a leg and feeling his other hand hold it up for you. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you come?” The vibration of his deep voice against your neck, sends a shiver down your spine and all you can do is nod.

Bob chuckles before quickening his pace inside you. It’s like his fingers know exactly where you need him to hit because each pound, every movement, is hitting exactly where you need him to be.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“Come for me baby,” he groans. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Obediently, you feel your body writhe in pleasure before shuddering an orgasm.

But Bob doesn’t stop.

He continues pumping into you, only stopping after you grab his wrist and pull his lips to yours.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be done for the night,” you mutter against his lips.

He pulls away, looking down at the beauty below him and is instantly struck with how beautiful you are up close. He realized it while you both were dancing, but the feel of your body grinding against him was clouding his brain. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

You blink up at him. “Are you saying that because you want me to go home with you?”

“N-no! Well I-I wouldn’t mind,” he stutters. He clears his throat, searching your eyes before smirking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When your sweet laugh reaches his ears, he realizes you were joking and leans down close to your ear.

“You could definitely come home with me if that’s what you want.”

“Can we?” You ask sweetly, redoing your zipper and button. 

Bob leans down to kiss you one last time, grinding his hips against yours.

“Absolutely.”

“Then take me home, Bob.” You tell him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses you one last time before taking your hand and guiding you to the exit door.

Multiple people (your friends and his) whooping as you both walk out. 

Listen, I was in the mood for some Bob and let me tell you this has been in the works for the past week because I just could not get into it. So I apologize if it seems like this is all over the place. I just needed to get finger banged by Bob 😏



[arc-misadventures]

Care to Share a Drink?

Jaune Arc was walking back from the training halls tired from another grueling training regime. Since becoming a, Specialist, Jaune had taken several courses to broaden his expertise; both in functioning, and technical training.

It was good to widen his expertise as a, Specialist, and he may be taking in all this new information like a sponge, but a sponge can only absorb so much in before it starts to leak out.

Now, Jaune was tired. He needed to relax, and just destress himself for all the worries that weighed him down. He was having a day off tomorrow, maybe he could...

: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm...?

Jaune turned around to see the ever smiling, Clover Ebi approaching him.

Jaune: Oh, hey, Clover. What's up?

Clover: Just wanted to ask if you wanted to go out for a drink?

Jaune: A drink?

Clover: Yeah, there's this bar I like to go to, I thought you would enjoy some male bounding. I would have invited you sooner, but we were so busy with everything. Besides, you look like you need someplace to relax for a bit.

Jaune: Oh, is anyone joining us?

Clover: Naww... I asked everyone else; Marrow, can't hold a drink for the life of him. Vine is a tea nut. Elm, likes those fruity drinks, the bar we're going to doesn't have those. Harriet said she was busy doing some paperwork with, Winter. And, Winter... Ya know.

Jaune: I know, Clover, I know.

Jaune: Sure... I wouldn't mind having a drink with you.

Clover: Alright then, let's go!

Jaune: Do they have any good bar food there? I'm starving.

~~~

Clover: So here we are, Jaune! The Squeaky Cog! Best bar in all of, Mantle!

Jaune: I thought we would be going to a bar in, Atlas, not one in, Mantle.

Clover: Nahh, there are plenty of decent bars in, Atlas. But, this place... it has a more homely feel to it, feels more lived in then the bars in, Atlas which feel sterile.

Jaune: Ahh, a by product of the whole, Colour Wars, eh?

Clover: Yeah, pretty much. Now come on, let's get a drink!

The pair walked over to the bar, and took a seat. Jaune grabbed the menu, and gave it a quick glance, finding a item he wouldn't mind eating. The barkeeper shortly came to them, and asked if they wanted anything.

Clover: I'll have a beer, and the chili fries.

Jaune: I'll have the... fish and chips, and a scotch on the rocks.

The bartender took their orders before walking away, as he left, Jaune busied himself with a bowl of pretzels.

Clover: A scotch on the rocks? I didn't take you for the type.

Jaune: A simple beer, thought you had more class.

Clover: I tend to have whisky after a reward for a rough day, for this a simple beer will do.

Jaune: I'd take a vodka myself if I wanted something simple. But, it's been a while since I had a drink, so I'll take a scotch.

Jaune thanked the barkeeper when he brought them their drinks. He swirled his drink watching the ice cube move about his drink. He took a sip letting out a satisfying breath of air as he did.

Jaune: That's smooth... I was told by some of the locals while I was walking about, Mantle that Mantilian Scotch is really good; That's a hell of an understatement.

Clover: Really? Maybe I should try it, and maybe you can try a beer too.

Jaune: Actual piss has more flavour in it than that piss in a bottle.

Clover laughed at, Jaune's little jab, he looked at, Jaune a serious look crossing his face.

Clover: Uhh... listen, Jaune...

Jaune: Is this where you ask me questions about my relationship with, Winter, or are we going to talk about you, and Harriet instead?

Clover stopped in his tracks, looking dumbfounded at, Jaune who just gave him an inquisitive eyebrow in return.

Jaune: Well?

Clover closed his mouth before giving, Jaune an amazed, yet scared look.

Clover: Again, you notice way too much, and it's scary how much you do.

Jaune laughed as he spun the ice cup around in his drink.

Jaune: Relax, Clover. I've been expecting you to ask me about you two since I caught you making your way to the, Ever Light Hotel~!

Clover: Hey! Keep it quiet about... the hotel!

Jaune gave another light laugh before taking another sip of his drink.

Jaune: Okay, Clover; Let's play a little game then shall we?

Clover: What kind of game?

Jaune: I ask you a question about you, and Harriet. Then you ask me a question about me, and Winter. You game.

Clover: Okay. I'm game... You first.

Jaune: Oh good, because I've been wondering for weeks now; How the hell did you two get together?

Clover: Ahh... Well... before you joined us, the Specialist, we already had six members... But, we lost one, his name was, Tortuga.

Jaune: Tortuga... I remember hearing, Harriet saying that name... She said, 'I was good, but I wasn't anything compared to, Tortuga.' Is that why, Harriet hates me? Because, I'm some sort of replacement of this, Tortuga fellow?

Clover: Kinda. Harriet, and Tortuga always had this older brother, younger sister dynamic to them. So when, Tortuga died, Harriet lost her 'big brother.' She didn't take it well...

Jaune: I can understand that. I have seven older sisters... I can barely handle the thought of losing one of them...

Clover: Well as it's my job as team leader to help my teammates. So, I talked with her, consoled her, and was just there for her when she needed it. A shoulder to cry on, a face to scream at. A friend.

Clover: Then one day, the whole team went here to relax, and have a drink, and while the rest of the team slowly went home one after another, bunch of light weights the lot of them! Harriet, and I stayed there getting absolutely waisted... Then...

Jaune: You woke up in each others arms in an uncompromising position?

Clover: Uhh... ahh.. yeah... that's pretty much it...

Jaune laughed at, Clovers face as it was flushed red from embarrassment.

Clover: There was some awkwardness between the two of us. But, we managed to work it out, and we've been dating in secret for about two months now.

Jaune: Why in secret; is there something against, Specialist dating each other?

Clover: No, there isn't any rule. We just don't want the others to know, I mean if, Elm finds out about us, we'll never hear the end of it!

The pair shared a short laugh that ended when the bartender brought them their meals. The duo thanked the bartender before they went back to their conversation.

Clover: Okay, it's my turn... How the hell did you get together with, Winter freaking Schnee? I mean... I've know, Winter for years, but she never struck me as the type who would be interested in dating anyone. Much less you.

Jaune: Rude...

Jaune nonchalantly replied while enjoying the fries on his fish, and chips. He quite liked the mixed spices they were using.

Clover: I don't mean to be rude, It's just... you seem so... so simple.

Jaune: I guess that's what she likes about me.

Clover: You guess?

Jaune: I don't know, or really understand why they like me. I was just being myself with them; honest, open, being an absolute dork... Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue how those two fell for me. I've flirted with woman before, and I was absolute trash! Like what the fuck was I thinking?!

Clover: Everyone was an idiot when it comes to flirting.

Clover commented this as he was shoveling his chili froes into his mouth.

Jaune: That was a year ago...

Clover: Pfft?!

Clover soon developed into a small coughing fit, before grabbing his beer, and chugging it down.

Clover: (Cough, cough, cough!) Serious, you went to being a loser who couldn't flirt with a girl for the life of them, to having, Winter Schnee fawning all over you?!

Jaune: Yeah, I don't understand it either...

Jaune dipped his fish into the hollandaise sauce, marveling at how nice it tasted. He also flagged down the bartender over to get, Clover another beer.

Jaune: Honestly if feel like I'm just standing there, and some hot girl looks at me like: "Haha! What's a dork!"

Jaune: "I must have him for my own."

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: It's happened at least four times, two in the past two weeks... Okay, my turn: What's up with, Harriet?

Clover: What do you mean?

Jaune: Harriet's been looking a little queasy lately... Did any... definitions of 'lucky' happen?

Clover: Huw...?!

Clover dropped his fork in shock at the implications at, Jaune's honest question.

Clover: ...?!

Jaune: Well?

Clover: No! N-N-Nothing like that at all! She's just sick from bad fish, I swear! We had it checked! She's not pregnant!

Jaune: Then you better keep using those condoms, or birth control. I don't think you two want that to happen... Yet?

Clover: Well... I wouldn't mind it happening eventually... but, there's too much going on right now...

Jaune: Well, regardless of what happens, I wish you two the best of luck! Not from just your semblance.

Jaune raised his drink in the air before, Clover raised his in the air for a salute. Jaune then finished his drink, asking the barkeeper for another.

Clover: My turn?

Jaune nodded as he finished the last remnants of his meal.

Clover: Okay... When I asked you about you, and Winter. You kept saying, 'they:' Why?

Jaune: Ahh... I'm not gonna lie to you, Clover... but, I'm stuck within a love triangle between two woman.

Clover: You're... in love triangle...?

Jaune: Yep.

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: Yep!

Jaune gave, Clover a dead serious look as he answered him. Popping the, P to emphasize his point.

Clover: How...?!

Jaune: I don't understand how these things happen to me either.

Clover: Between who?

Jaune: Winter Schnee, and Robyn Hill...

Clover: Robyn Hill?! She's into you? Again, how?

Jaune: Not sure. My best bet is that I was honest with her. Robyn's semblance lets her decern truth from lies. I can only guess what she went through to have a semblance such as that. But, I think saving her from a psycho faunas certainly helped.

Clover: Being the literal white knight saving the damsel...? Yeah, I bet that helped.

Jaune: Now the two of them have given me tokens of affection, and I have no idea what to do...

Clover: The sash, and that falcon pin?

Jaune: Lucky guess.

The pair shared a laugh before continuing their stories.

Jaune: Now the worst part is, is that they both know the other likes me, and they've both stacked their 'claims' on me. I'm literally stuck between two badass huntresses who could beat my ass, who are more than willing to fight each other tooth, and nail to get me! I have no idea how to navigate any of this!! And, worse of all: It's fucking hot that I have two beautiful, wonderful woman fighting over me!

Clover: Do you know which one you want to be with?

Jaune: I don't know... They're both among the greatest, and most beautiful people I've ever met! And, as much as I've enjoyed their rather, forceful kiss's. I want to be the one to steal their breath away with a kiss. But, I have no experience when it comes to the affairs of the heart, so I haven't got a damn clue on what to do... And, it's as you said, there is too much going on right now to worry about such things...

Clover: But, if you had to choose: Who would you pick?

Jaune shrugged his shoulders before looking at, Clover.

Jaune: Both?

Clover snorted as he smacked, Jaune on his shoulder before slapping a pile of credits on the bar top after finishing he second beer.

Clover: It's on me. Now come on, let's back to base.

Jaune finished his scotch before getting up, and following, Clover out of the bar.

Jaune: This was nice. Thanks for inviting me, Clover. We should do this again. Only this time, drinks are on me.

Clover: Looking forward to it.

[telephoniii]

YOU’RE LOVE IS MAGNETIC… literally

☆彡 in which you drink a magnetic potion

Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

Word Counter: 1.6K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, possible OOC

A/N: We love Mr. Riddle Height-Doesn’t-Matter Rosehearts in this house!! I hope you enjoy :>

In your defense, mostly everything on Trey’s grocery list is edible.

When you were running errands for him, you couldn't help but be curious about an unlabeled drink he needed. It was a fun color! And it was pretty cheap too. So, naturally, you bought another one for yourself to try.

After dropping off the groceries, you popped that bad boy open and took a few sips.

It had a fruity taste that reminded you of strawberries. The taste made you think of Riddle and those strawberry tarts he adored. Since you were already in Heartsbyul, you figured it’d be nice to stop by and say hi to the housewarden.

“Oh, Prefect, it's nice to see you. Did you need something?” Riddle greeted, not expecting to see you. You seemed more cheery than usual, making Riddle smile. “I was just in the area and whatnot. What’re you up to?”

He opened his room door wider, allowing you to step in. “I’m studying. Professor Trein assigned my class a test this Friday due to a few troublemakers.” Riddle explained as he walked towards the desk in his room.

Stacks of books laid upon it which made you wonder, “How long have you been studying?”

Riddle glanced towards his bedside clock. “Approximately 3 hours.” You nearly choked. “3 hours? That's pretty admirable. I think I’d be out after 30 minutes.” The boy gave you an unamused look, raising a brow. “That’s not enough time to effectively review the material in a few days. I hope Ace isn't rubbing off on you.”

You gave the housewarden a small shrug and grin. “I don't think Ace studies at all.” He let out a tired sigh in response, the very thought of Ace just stressing him out already. With a sympathetic look, you lightly rubbed Riddle’s shoulder.

“Well, on the bright side, at least Ace is passing?” Your attempt to comfort him was mediocre at best. A better idea appeared in your mind. With your free hand— the other still resting on Riddle’s shoulder— you pulled out that fruity drink you had bought. “I saw this on Trey’s grocery list and got one for myself. It's some juice thing I think? I’m pretty sure you’ll like it! Try some.”

Riddle looked at you like you were crazy. “Prefect…” His hand flickered between you and the half-empty bottle in your hand. “You are aware that’s a magnetic potion, correct?” You froze.

…What? “Don’t tell me you actually drank that, Prefect.” Riddle’s tone was a mix of concern and disbelief.

“I…uhhh…” You gave him a sorry smile which was met with a displeased face. “You shouldn't go drinking random potions, I expected you to know better—” Riddle continued to lecture you as you realized a bigger problem… You couldn't take your hand off his shoulder.

“Uh huh… Yeah…” You mumbled, trying to nod along to what he was saying as you attempted to pull your hand away from him with no success. “And… and… Prefect?” Riddle murmured as he caught on to what was happening.

“What potion did you say it was again?” You cautiously asked with a nervous chuckle. Riddle paled. “…Let’s go find Professor Crewel.” You simply nodded in response.

Maneuvering out of his room with your hand stuck to his shoulder was oddly difficult as the two of you tried to avoid any other part of you touching. The way your hand was positioned was uncomfortable at best and cramping at worst. Yet, no matter how hard you pulled, it wouldn't come off of Riddle’s shoulder.

Riddle looked just as conflicted, quickly recognizing your discomfort. He tried to think of a way to put you in a more comfortable position before you two went on into the hallways. You couldn't help but admire how he looked when he was thinking. That small pout on his lips was adorable. You wished your eyes were a camera.

You then watched as his cheeks began to flush a hue of red. At first, you worried it was out of frustration from the situation before you recognized that his expression looked more… embarrassed.

Riddle slowly turned to you, his lip lightly quivering. “…Would it be more comfortable if I carried you?” You blinked in surprise. “You know we might be stuck in that position if you carry me, right? Meaning, yknow… you’d be stuck carrying me for a while?”

With a shake of the head, you argued against the idea. “I don't want your arms to go sore or anything. I’ll deal with the hand cramp and weird position.” At those words, a glint of determination appeared in Riddle’s eyes. He took it as a challenge.

“I’ll be fine, believe me.” He hummed, suddenly very motivated to do so. A hint of red still tinted his cheeks, though it had calmed down. Hesitantly, you agreed. Riddle can be pretty stubborn when he’s set on something.

You were still worried considering his stature. Compared to a lot of the other NRC students, physical strength didn't seem like his strong suit. “Jump and I’ll catch you on the count of three… 1… 2…”

As you were instructed, you jumped as he said three and tightly closed your eyes. Your nerves were going haywire. Unexpectedly, you were securely caught by him. Huh. You open your eyes with a tiny sigh of relief before you realize you wrapped your free hand around his neck. And now you can't remove it. Riddle seemed flustered by the touch, clearly not expecting it but not commenting as he cleared his throat.

“I’ve got my pen on me, I’m wielding a spell to make carrying you easier.” He explained, averting his eyes to the side. You nodded, a smile finding its way onto your lips. Riddle was pretty charming from this view.

With you now in his arms, you began to walk to Professor Crewel’s room. Any weird looks were ignored by Riddle.

Riddle wasn't one for lying but… “The prefect hurt their leg. I’m taking them to the health office.” …Is what he answered to any questions about why he was carrying you. Thank Sevens that Crewel’s office wasn't too far from Heartsbyul.

“Quite the position you're in, pups.” Professor Crewel hummed, hands folded on his desk as he looked between the two of you. “I believe I've got a method of separating the two of you. However, the potion itself doesn't go away till the end of the day.”

You grimaced at the thought of magnetically connecting to different people like this. Riddle subtly held you closer. Professor Crewel turned his gaze toward you. “I suggest isolation. Go to Ramshackle and don't let anyone else in, lest you want to end up like this again. Understood?”

“Understood.” You murmured back. Crewel got up from his seat, swiftly grabbing ingredients off a few shelves and tossing them into a potion pot. You watched with curiosity, tilting your head to the side. Sensing your interest, Riddle moved a bit so you could have a better view of what Crewel was doing.

Soon enough, the professor was stirring a pot filled to the brim with a glowing, light blue concoction. With a satisfied hum, Crewel grabbed a yardstick and shoved it in there; making sure the majority of it was covered in the mixture.

“This might burn a little!” He announced. In a blink of an eye, he stuck the stick between you and Riddle. You yelped at the feeling. It felt like you just touched a hot iron. The heat slowly faded away and became bearable in a matter of seconds. Riddle had a similar reaction, a frown blatant on his face.

“So, how long until—” You were cut off as your back hit the floor. Hard. Riddle’s eyes widened. “Prefect! Are you alright!?” You let out a small groan before standing up and brushing off the dirt. “Mhm. Peachy. Just— argh, wasn't expecting the rough landing.” Professor Crewel let out an amused laugh. “Let that be a lesson— don't drink unlabeled potions. Or most potions, period. I understand you come from a different world, but it seems like common sense. Naughty pup.”

You frowned but nodded. “Got it, professor.” Crewel went to put away the materials he used, cleaning off the yardstick. Riddle stretched out his arms a bit. Just as he was about to head back to Heartsbyul—“Hey, Riddle?” Turning to face you, Riddle tilted his head.

“Yes, Prefect?” You flashed him a sincere smile. “Thanks for carrying me. Maybe you could do it again— under better circumstances obviously. That was nice.”

Riddle felt his face heat up once more, stuttering over his words. “I-I… Y-You’re very welcome, Prefect…”

Internally, he couldn't help but wish for the opportunity to hold you again too.

.

.

BONUS

Riddle tapped his pen against the desk, staring at the book in front of him. You invaded his mind during his study time; you and that stupidly cute smile of yours.

He couldn't help but reminisce on how it felt to carry you. Intelligence over brawn has always been his go-to, though it felt strangely nice to be able to support you in that way.

He let out a sigh. Perhaps that was enough studying for tonight. It didn't seem like it was very productive anyway. As he got up, a small ding caught his attention. His eyes darted towards his phone as he raised a brow. Who could that be at this hour?

CATER; aren't u 2 the cutest little luv birds!! **two images attached

Looks like more eyes were on him than he thought when he was carrying you through the hallways… He very discretely saves those photos on his phone.

And one of those photos may or may not be his lock screen.

[rafeovermorals]

sucker— rafe cameron

rafe always keeps a jar of lollipops in his room, just for you.

the first time he ever saw you eating one, you were laid out by the tannyhill pool with sarah— skin peached and freckled from hours in the sun. your hair was pushed back with heart shaped sunglasses and you wore a cherry print bikini. you were beautiful.

but he couldn’t focus much on that. not when your glossy, red tinted lips were wrapped around a lolly as you looked up at him— the faint sound of you sucking on the treat. he was standing over you, blocking the sun from your face and chest.

“rafe! you’re going to ruin my tan!” you whined, voice muffled with the stick still in your mouth.

he ignored you. “what flavor is that?”

“huh?”

he took it from you, putting it into his own mouth with a hum— a sugary, fruity blend flowing to his tastebuds. you lingered there in the aftertaste, almost sweeter than the candy itself. “cherry, my favorite.”

you scoffed in annoyance, sitting up on your arms. “are you serious?! i wasn’t finished with that.”

he smirked, swirling it in his mouth for a few seconds before pulling it out and crouching above you. “you still can, doll.”

rafe brushed the lolly over your parted lips, beckoning you to take it back. “here, go on.” you closed down on it, his spit mixing with yours.

since that day, he would call you sucker. and that you were.

not only because of the lollipop, but because of how pathetic you were. it was easy to please you, after all.

it started off by grabbing you a lollipop or two from the gas station— whenever he’d drive you and sarah home from school.

“i know you like these, or whatever.” he’d say casually, throwing them into your lap as you rode in the back seat of his truck. you couldn’t help but blush at the gesture.

“thank you, rafey.”

“you’re welcome, sucker.”

but eventually those two turned into four, then six, then eight, and at that point he realized it was cheaper to just buy a whole bag. as if he was worried about the price.

you told him you preferred dum dums over any other brand. fitting, he thought.

he came to notice that the flavor you chose depended on the occasion.

when you were in a good mood, you’d pick watermelon or strawberry. you’d have cotton candy or mango for dessert, and give the butterscotches to rafe since you didn’t like them. bubble gum was your favorite, so you’d save them for last.

for your birthday, he placed a special order for a huge pack of only bubble gum lollys— enough to last you for at least a year. he became your boyfriend soon after.

you had one between your teeth at all times. he was surprised they hadn’t rotted from the sugar by now, but he loved it. your lips were always so sweet of whichever flavor you’d just had, sometimes making him guess as he kissed you.

“hmm, is it pineapple?” he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip again, causing you to giggle. “nope, try again.” he kissed you deeper, slower, until he got it right.

rafe realized that he could use them to control you, too.

he bought some sour lollipops to punish you with. if you stepped out of line while you guys were in public, he’d get one from his pocket and force it into your mouth.

“suck it, and don’t you dare spit it out. i want you to think about what you’ve done while it burns, then maybe i’ll give you a good one after if you behave.”

if you stepped out of line while you guys were at home, he’d use his cock instead.

“good girl, sucker. taking me so well.”

quick drabble! feedback is loved and appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[lovebugism]

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get. 

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle. 

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun. 

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows. 

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder. 

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze. 

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side. 

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later. 

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic. 

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction. 

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine. 

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair. 

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him. 

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth. 

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you. 

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely. 

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted get a little too close for schlatt’s comfort at the club, and you finally tell someone what happened between you and schlatt all those months ago.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader and a steamy dance scene.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i realize that i’ve taken four chapters to get through one entire day, and i hope y’all are cool with that lmao. i’m sure it will keep happening again. a week was a little ambitious, but fiwb. no beta, we die like men here. (if you ever see a mistake, you are legally obligated to tell me.) enjoy! 🩵

Blue and purple lights illuminate a steady swirl of fog coming out of machines near the DJ’s stage, the bass of the loud music completely overtaking all of your senses. You can feel the reverb under your skin, and the hairs on your arm stand at attention. The dance floor toward the front of the building is full of bodies, so many people dancing all their cares away.

“I’m gonna get you beautiful ladies a round of shots!” James yells as he pokes his head in between you and Amelia. “You find us a place to chill!”

Amelia takes your hand and leads you through the crowds of people standing around and talking, weaving your way around the large space, before finally finding a table big enough to house your entire party. You scoot into the booth with Amelia close behind you, grinning over at her, already absolutely buzzing about the night you’re about to have.

James had been sure that Ted and Schlatt would have shown up by the time he got back to the table with shots, but he’s wrong, so he offers you and Amelia the two extra shots. You down them, grimacing as the shot burns all the way down. James has also gone ahead and ordered your favorite drink, which you sip on as you wait for Ted and Schlatt to arrive. Amelia and James take to the floor, dragging you along with them.

You sway along to the music, the alcohol already beginning to course through your veins. It’s been a while since you’ve drank, since you’ve really let loose. The last time was… well… you don’t want to dwell on it.

Ted stands in front of the mirror, running his hand through his hair once, twice, three times, trying to get it perfect. He adjusts the string of pearls around his neck, the rings on his fingers. He catches Schlatt’s eyes in the mirror, quirking an eyebrow at the scowl on his face.

“Dude, you look fine, can we fuckin’ go?” Schlatt says, half-laying on the bed, “You’re taking fuckin’ forever.”

“Fuckin’… sue me for wanting look nice,” Ted laughs at Schlatt’s impatience. “Did you see how good (Y/N) looks?”

Schlatt bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “Barely even looked at her, man.” The lie slips out of his mouth so easily, and he’s glad Ted is none the wiser.

“Well, I looked at her. Got a realll good look,” Ted shoots Schlatt a pointed look, before returning to his preening, “Can’t look like some kinda chump next to her.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes, his skin heating up at Ted’s words. He tries to ignore the feeling, but something comes over him.

“You’re not her type, man.” Schlatt says casually, before he can stop it. Ted thinks Schlatt’s just trying to get a rise out of him, so he only laughs, unbothered by Schlatt’s statement.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

It’s difficult, but for once, Schlatt keeps his thoughts to himself.

You’re two shots and one fruity little drink deep when Schlatt and Ted finally show up. Amelia and James are still out on the dance floor, but you’re at the bar ordering another round of drinks and shots for Ted and Schlatt after they’d texted they were on their way.

When you spot Ted and Schlatt looking for your group, you lift a hand up, waving them over. Ted beams as he catches your eye, sauntering over to the bar, with Schlatt close behind.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Ted sidles up to you at the bar, looming over you, punctuating his greeting with a cheeky wink. “Come here often?” He asks, intentionally deepening his voice to draw a laugh from you. It works, causing you to giggle at him. (Ted’s always been funny, but he’s even funnier now that you’re tipsy.)

“Shut up,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. You think you catch Schlatt doing the same out of the corner of your eye, but you can’t be sure. “I ordered your drinks. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah?” Ted smiles mischievously down at you, “Are you feelin’ it?”

“I’m feelin’ it,” You confirm with a carefree laugh, nodding your head.

As if on cue, the bartender serves up your shots and Ted and Schlatt’s drinks. “Take my shot,” You tell Ted, handing the small glass over to him, “I’ve gotta pace myself or shit’s gonna go south real fast.” You giggle.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ted grins, downing the two shots with ease, grimacing slightly. He turns to pass Schlatt a shot and his drink, but Schlatt’s already on the other side of the club, talking to Amelia and James.

Ted merely shrugs and so do you. How are you supposed to care when Ted is standing in front of you, playfully flirting with you while looking absolutely delicious?

“Are you having fun?” Ted asks you, watching you intently as you wrap your lips around the straw in your drink.

“Not yet,” You smirk at him, the alcohol in your system granting you a new kind of confidence, “I was waiting for you to get here.”

Ted’s eyes light up at your statement. “Yeah?” He asks, with a sly grin. He looks like he’s up to no good, and you’re eating it up. “Let me show you a good time.”

Ted downs his drink, before taking your hand in his, leading you out onto the dance floor. You abandon the rest of your drink at the bar, not particularly caring about it at the moment.

Once you hit the dance floor, Ted raises your hand in the air, gracefully spinning you. When you face him again, he drops your hand onto his shoulder, using his other hand to pull you closer to him by your waist. You’re nearly pressed against him, swaying along to the music, with Ted’s firm grip on your waist. The energy in the room is fucking electric, and it only makes you bolder. You turn around, your back up against Ted’s chest. One of your arms snakes up behind you to rest your hand at the back of his neck, and you slowly drag yourself down against him, swaying your hips. You can feel Ted’s breath on your neck as you come back up, and his hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

You move your hand to rest on his cheek, holding him close to you. As you touch him, his grip on your skin grows even tighter, and you hear him sigh against your ear. The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

Ted lets you lead, his body moving in tandem with yours, matching all the cues you give him. You can feel yourself getting lost in the music, in him. He feels so good pressed up against you, and your mind wanders as he grinds up on you to the beat. Your eyes close as you let the music flow through you.

When you open your eyes, you notice Schlatt on the other side of the dance floor. He has his eyes fixed on you while some random girl practically feels him up, gyrating against him without shame. His hand lazily rests on the girl’s back, inching dangerously close to her barely-covered ass. His eyebrow quirks just slightly as he realizes you’re watching them.

You maintain eye contact as Ted’s face draws closer to your neck, his lips just barely grazing across your skin. You let your head drop a little lower to give Ted easier access to your neck, and his fingers squeeze at your hip.

Schlatt’s demeanor changes almost imperceptibly, his expression hardening and one of his fists clenching at his side.

His eyes never leave yours, even as the girl he’s dancing with leans up to practically shove her tongue in Schlatt’s mouth. You can almost feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, a scowl forming on your face before you can stop it.

Satisfied that he’s received a reaction from you, Schlatt’s eyes flutter closed as he threads a hand into the girl’s hair, pulling her closer and unabashedly making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.

Your stomach drops and you start to feel entirely too hot under all the lights, all of the heat coming from the bodies around you threatening to suffocate you. You think about stepping off the floor for a break, just to get your wits about you again, but you don’t want to give Schlatt the satisfaction. Instead, you turn back around to face Ted, deciding to turn up the heat yourself.

Ted’s face is unbelievably close to yours as the two of you hit every beat. He’s sporting a wolf-like grin, his eyes half-lidded and staring into your own. The way he’s eyeing you makes you think you’re not alone in having inappropriate thoughts about the two of you together.

Ted has always been handsome, there’s no doubting that, but this is uncharted territory. You’ve known Ted for a good chunk of your life, he’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. You have a feeling that if you were to do anything, the two of you could be normal about it afterward. What happens at weddings stays at weddings, or whatever.

Ted’s face dips lower, and his eyes dart to your lips, then back up. You move your hand back up to rest at the base of his neck, pulling him to you to close the gap. He tastes like the drinks he downed just a while ago, and almost equally intoxicating.

“Oh, my God!” You hear Amelia yelling beside you, and Ted pulls away from you, clearly amused. Amelia covers her mouth with her hand, looking apologetic for her drunken outburst.

“Sorry, sorry, oh my god.” Amelia shouts over the music, waving her hands, “You guys keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“All good, Mel,” Ted shouts back, waving his own hand dismissively, “We’ve got plenty of time to do that later.” He adds, flirtatiously.

You feel a heat pool in your abdomen at his words. Amelia looks scandalized, but ecstatic nonetheless. James is shockingly quiet beside her, and you follow his gaze to the other side of the dance floor.

Schlatt is gone.

Hours go by before the rest of you are ready to head back to the hotel.

You’ve had many drinks, and your feet hurt like a bitch from all the dancing. Ted keeps you steady as you walk back to your room, his arm around your shoulder, but he’s also fairly drunk, so the two of you are just stumbling and giggling down the hallway.

“I didn’t know you were rooming next to Schlatt.” Ted remarks as you get to your room.

“Don’t remind me.” You let out a little laugh as you fish your key card out of your purse. Once you get the door open, you look over at Ted, who is just watching you with a hopeful look that he’s too drunk to hide on his face.

“Did you wanna come in?” You ask him, “Maybe have a glass of champagne on the balcony?”

Ted’s eyes light up. “Fuck yeah I do.”

You give him a smile and gesture for him to follow you inside, letting the door click shut behind you.

You plop down onto your bed, eager to get your heels off, but as you fiddle with the buckle, you realize you’re a little too drunk to get them off. You huff out a sigh, and Ted laughs, making his way over to you.

“C’mon,” Ted says as he stands in front of you, motioning for you to lift your leg up to him, “Lemme help.”

You raise your leg up, and Ted guides your foot to rest on his stomach so he has better access to the buckles of your heels. He unbuckles one slowly, moving his hand to your calf to let your leg drop gently, before doing the same with the other one. His touch lingers on your other leg, and he smiles down at you, like he’s just waiting for another chance to kiss you.

You find yourself thinking about Schlatt just next door. Part of you doesn’t give a shit, but another part of you wonders if it would be fucked up to fuck his friend where he could easily hear it.

Another part of you wishes it was him.

Clearing your throat to cut through the tension between you and Ted, you stand up from the bed, making your way to the minibar. “How about that drink?” You suggest, grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

The cool air coming off of the ocean hits your face as you step out onto the balcony, immediately putting you more at ease. As you sit down at the table, you notice that Schlatt’s lights are still on, spilling out between the curtains in his room. You can just barely see him through the gap, and a terrible thought hits you: Is he alone? Had he left with that girl from earlier?

“Oh, good, Schlatt’s still up,” Ted comments, grabbing his phone from his pocket, “I’d love to get into something more comfortable. I’m gonna ask him to toss me some clothes.”

Ted shoots off a text that you both see Schlatt read, and he looks up to see the two of you watching him from outside. He gets up, and you nearly gulp as you notice he’s only in his boxer briefs. He shows no intention of getting Ted’s things, and instead, closes the curtains with a look on his face that you can’t place. You both watch as his lights go out. Well, you think bitterly, at least he’s alone.

“What the fuck?” Ted scoffs, looking over at you.

You release a heavy sigh. “That’s probably my fault.”

“In what world would that be your fault?” Ted kind of laughs, but he stops as you lean back in your chair, looking a little dejected. It’s not fair for Schlatt to be mad at Ted, to treat him this way just because of you.

You wonder how to even begin to explain the situation to Ted. He notices how you struggle, and immediately starts to pour you a glass of champagne.

You give him a soft smile as he hands you the glass.

“What happened?” Ted asks softly, leaning back in his own chair, giving you the floor.

You sigh again before diving into the story. “Schlatt and I were together… for a while.”

“What?” Ted exclaims, obviously shocked. “When?”

“It was, like, a year ago,” You answer, taking a sip of the champagne. “We hooked up after Jasper’s birthday party. When the party started to wind down, we got to talking and, well, one thing led to another… It was good for, like, a month, and then all of a sudden he just… ghosted, so I don’t know why he’s so pressed now, but he is.”

“Fuuuck,” Ted commiserates with you, shaking his head. “Are you still into him?” He asks, this time as your friend, not as someone who was just about to get to hook up with you.

Had you not been drinking, you might answer differently, but with your inhibitions out the window and a kind ear being lent to you, you decide to be honest.

“Yeah, kinda.” You tell Ted, “I thought I was over it but being here with him, being in his presence at all hours of the day… it all just came back, I think.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?”

“He ghosted me. I’m not about to go back to him with my tail between my legs, hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“(Y/N), he just locked me out of my room for the night because he saw us kiss earlier.” Ted says, “Clearly he’s still feeling something for you.”

You shake your head. Ted doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know how many texts you sent, how much you cried, how hard it was to watch Schlatt act like nothing ever happened between the two of you. You’d opened yourself up to him, just for him to disappear.

“I can’t, Ted.” You finally say, taking another drink. “You can stay with me tonight, if you want. It’s my fault you’re wrapped up in this now, too.”

“Hey, I kissed you, so I’m complicit too.” Ted smiles warmly over at you, “He’ll get over it. Don’t let him bother you.”

“I’m really sorry the night turned out like this,” You can’t help the apology that spills from you, “I know you were hoping for… something else.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Ted waves a hand dismissively, fully unbothered that you’ve changed your mind about hooking up with him, “I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m having a good time either way, I promise.”

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you finish your drinks, just marinating in the milky glow of the moon over the ocean, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“You got anything I can sleep in?” Ted finally asks, and you grin over at him.

“I have a cute little pink PJ set that you’d look real cute in.” You tease, and Ted rolls his eyes, laughing.

“God, nevermind.”

You let out a cackle at his response, feeling much better than you had just moments ago. It feels good to finally tell someone what happened with Schlatt. You let yourself bask in the comfort of it all, because you know that once tomorrow comes, you’re in for some more torture when Schlatt finds out Ted stayed with you for the night.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

[newkatzkafe2023]

From most to least, how much do the monkey kings like tire swings?

This

(Lmk Wukong) 11/10 He would love a tire swing bringing out his hidden man child. You set it up for a beach party you and Mk were throwing, and Wukong and the baby monkies had a blast. Not to mention you and Wukong getting to swim and stay cool together, too🥰

(HIB Wukong) 7/10 Pretends to hate the tire swing, but loves to watch you and the kids use it. You made it for Luier and Silly girl to add to the Village playground, and those two found themselves using it one every day. Though, when nobody's around, Wukong would chill and swing in it, but just to heal his inner child.

(MKR Wukong) 5/10 He doesn't like tire swings very much, but he always likes watching you and fruity use it. You had made a tire swing at Flower Fruit Mountain one day, and Wukong, for some reason or another, felt like it was an insult to himself. Though you do look super adorable and childlike whenever you go swinging, Wukong would have to hold back a squeal.

(NR Wukong) 9/10 man you just Encourage him to just join you on the tire swing, I mean the mini monkies already joined you. Even Li and Su joined on swinging and jumping into the water, that's when Wukong finally joined in on the fun in the water. After all he gets to admire his hot adoring wife in your pink polkadot bikini, stealing wet kisses from him😘

(Netflix Wukong) 10/10 that swing is sooo much fun to him, and he would play on it all day of you let him. He's totally shameless with it you would hear his excited voice as Wukong Swings into the air laughing with his eyes closed. You totally healed his inner child with that swing especially when he gets Lin and you to join.

(BMW Wukong) 3/10 No way it feels way to embarrassing for him to be on a tire swing built for small children. Though he has no issues letting you swing on it, along with the monkies and their cubs having fun and jumping into water. Wukong would have a small smile with the way you get along with all his subjects.

(Destined one) 2/10 you'll have the Destined one sigh at the distraction you made for yourself. You laugh and steal as you swing high in the air, totally enjoying your newfound activity. The Destined one, on the other hand, wouldn't be found dead using that thing and decided to just let you play and enjoy it.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[cyanbugremix]

✨Cyanbug's Redacted Headcanons Pt.2✨

(Once again, some of these may be used or were used in fics, but some are just there and I want to share them)

1. Morgan Kyne has near-sighted glasses (he can't see far away clearly), but he wears contacts when he's out and about, because when he was younger he got teased for needing glasses.

2. Sweetheart despises mint toothpaste because of the spice (Hot spice = good. Cold spice = bad). So they get fruity flavors instead.

3. If Doc and Hush are going to watch a movie together, Hush always suggests to watch How to Train Your Dragon (2010).

4. Speaking of movies, Huxley likes to watch FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992) whenever he's sick.

5. Angel's side takes up the most space in the closet. They have their usual work clothes hanging up, and their casual clothes in a dresser, but most of the closet is filled with costumes + cosplays outfits and pieces that they've made or collected over the years.

6. And to add to that, Milo and Angel would totally help their friends and the pack make costumes for ren-faires. Sometimes when the two hang out they go to craft/fabric stores together. (Angel comes back with too many jewelry pieces and Milo comes home with yards and yards of different fabrics. They'll trade items if he needs some jewelry or if Angel needs a specific type of fabric).

7. I feel like Elliott's favorite zoo animal would be red pandas or spider monkeys. (Idky he just gives off those vibes).

8. Aggro adores green beans. Milo thinks it's one of the weirdest things a cat would want to eat. Sweetheart came over one time to Milo's apartment for dinner, and thought that Aggro was going for their chicken, but instead stole their green beans off the plate.

9. Darlin' could play only one actual song on the guitar for the longest time. They are/were musically gifted when it came to instruments. In middle school, they picked up the clarinet really fast, and then eventually switched to bass because Darlin' got bored (their parents made them promise that they'd stop switching instruments because buying/renting different ones costed a lot). Their parent's had gotten them an electric guitar for their birthday one year, but they only learned how to play one actual song on it (American Idiot by Green Day). Not because they didn't want to learn more songs, but because they found it more fun to make up random songs with friends when they hung out. They did stop for a few years when they moved to Dahlia and they didn't pick it up again until they were in their later teen/early adult years. They do know more songs now and have played for Sam.

10. Anton likes to hand carve small wooden animals for My Love. He mostly likes to make them tigers, elephants and bears, but at this point he has made an entire forest or zoo of different wooden animals around their home.

-

Part 1 of headcanons

[xxblairexxss]

Smitten (part 2 for ‘Everything Shower’)

Pairing : Charles leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Feel free to slide in my inbox. I’m always open to talk about any ideas you would want to see in my upcoming fics!

Charles groaned as you pulled the drapes to the side, allowing the sun to illuminate the room.

“Morning, baby!” Your mood was clearly not on the same level with your boyfriend because he still had his eyes closed but his arm was stretched out when he sensed you walking closer to his side of the bed.

“For a second I forgot what happened to my image.” He scooted a little bit so you could sit by his side and started stroking on his cheek.

He looked so beautiful, even more beautiful with the morning sunlight. The way his eyelashes lined up along the ends of his eyelids, the way his mouth was slightly ajar as he breathed out. He wasn’t asleep anymore and you knew it from his grasp around you waist.

“Your lover boy image? Are you embarrassed that they found out you were obsessed with your own girlfriend?”

“No, I am the proudest boyfriend ever but I can’t stand them teasing me. Daniel would be attending this race too. As if things couldn’t get any worse.” He grumbled before you caught his arms and pulled him up to sit.

“Get up, bubs. It’s time for you to get ready.”

His arms found the way back to your waist again and he started planting kisses from your neck, up to your jawline and ended the train of kisses on your nose. “But I’m not done spending time with you yet. Care to join me for breakfast together?”

You weren’t a breakfast kind of girl because you would always feel nauseous if you eat something heavy in the morning and Charles knew it too. But you knew he had asked you just so that you two could pass time together before he spent the rest of the day in the pit today.

“Sure, let me get ready first.” You left a peck on his cheek before getting up to leave to the bathroom.

“Baby, count me in too.” Charles threw the duvet away from covering his half naked body and followed your steps. You couldn’t even brush your teeth alone.

kymillman

Liked by 346,767 others

kymillman Charles Leclerc arrived at the paddock. Not sure what happened but the crowds went wild!

username it’s the lover boy

username he looked completely different compare to y/n video

username bcs he’s with his gf in private you have never been in love bud?

username tough days ahead for him 🤭

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

After what happened at Silverstone Grand Prix, you just continued with your life as if you weren’t the one behind all those teasings he had to face during the weekend. Well, there was nothing wrong. It wasn’t like you aired your boyfriend’s dirty laundry.

Charles had told you that he kinda liked it because it kinda gave him a reason to mention you in interviews but he refused to admit the clingy part.

“Bubs, you are the clingy one.”

Charles firmly shook his head. “No, I’m not. I didn’t see you for 2 weeks so it was a moment of weakness.”

“So you are saying it won’t happen again? You won’t hug me like you usually do while I’m prepping my skin?” He had his hand under your oversized shirt as you leaned on his chest and you felt his thumb abruptly stopped from stroking the skin of your belly which caused you to giggle. You knew he liked clinging on you whenever you finished your shower. He liked the scent of your vanilla scent from your hair shampoo, the sweet fruity scent from your moisturizer. It was just accidentally being recorded in the tiktok because you were just trying to make a video, not because you tried to expose him.

He was quite and you could sense he was thinking hard, analysing every single consequences for every answer. “I can’t hug my girlfriend?”

“You just said it was a moment of weakness.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You said, it was a moment if weakness.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You turned on your phone and propped it against the box of cotton pads. A few skincare products were placed in front of it, careful not to cover the camera. Once everything was set up, only then you turned off the shower. You knew Charles would come in when he no longer heard the water flowing and you wouldn’t have enough time to set up your phone if you did it by then.

You had just washed your face when you heard a soft knock and a muffled voice coming from the outside.

“Baby, are you recording a video again?”

“No, why?”

Charles didn’t reply but you heard a faint creaking sound from the door being opened. “Nothing, I was just asking.” Your ‘not clingy’ boyfriend is now in the bathroom with you for no absolute reason. He didn’t go straight to embrace you as he usually did because you were glaring at him ever since he stepped in.

“I just wanted to check on my girlfriend….” It was as if he had read your mind before you could asked him, what are you doing here.

You continued with your skincare, serum, niacinamide, retinol all sorts of things while occasionally still glaring at him and your boyfriend was just there, staring at your reflection while touching all sort of products you had in front of you, itching to hold you like he always did but if it wasn’t the consequences of his own words. You knew he didn’t missed your look, he was just ignoring it.

“Oh? This is a new one. I have never seen this before.” Your boyfriend looked like a curious kid who just happened to find something new that was worth his attention. Charles stood up straight and took the product that caught his attention. “Chérie, what’s this? Looks like the one you always put on every time we go out.”

“That’s my lash serum, Charles.”

“Wow, you have serum for your lash too? How do you put it on?”

You took the product from his hand and twisted the cap to pull it open. “You put it on like how you always see me put on my mascara.”

“Put it on me.” He scooted his way in front of you, blocking you from seeing your reflection in the mirror and now the camera could only see his back that was leaned against the cabinet. Charles finally held you as he pulled you closer by your waist, making you stand as close as he could in between his legs.

“You can put it on yourself.”

“No, I don’t know how. You do it.”

“Such a baby.” You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on the side of his neck as the other one started carefully stroke the brushes on his long lashes. “You know, you really don’t need to put this one you already have long—“

“Ouch, that went into my eyes. It stings, baby!” Charles suddenly flinched and turned his head away. You immediately put the serum aside and tried to stepped away so you could do something, anything.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Wash it off. Come here, I’ll help you.”

“No.” He closed off his legs before you could move any further and you could feel his grip on your waist went tighter.

“What—“

Before you could finish your sentence, he slanted his body against you and hides his face in the creek of your neck.

“I just want to hold my girlfriend…can you stop glaring at me…please?”

And he didn’t say anything else. All you could hear after was just the sound of his breathing and warm breath against your skin.

“You scared me! Is this your moment of weakness again?” You stifled a giggle as you bring your hand on his fluffy hair and stroked it.

He hummed in response. He couldn’t pull you closer because you were practically latched on his body now. There wasn’t even an inch of space in between your bodies.

“No, I’m just smitten with love.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 446,376 others

ynusername date night with my cuddly bby 🤎

username you are a saviour keep on feeding us the content

username we live for more content for boyfriend charles

danielricciardo I got goosebumps thinking about the video

landonorris Yeah, that’s a no from me

username CUTIES 🥰🥹

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Denji Hayakawa - "Half Your Melon Bread"

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In which a certain chainsaw devil man shares a sweet treat with a stranger at the park after shirking his devil hunting duties for the day. Or; In which you give Denji half of your melon bread out of sympathy poor hungry devil hunter boy. Part 2

                                                                                                   

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

"Maaan, today was a long one"

Denji groaned out; stretching as he walked along the vacant street.

He had snuck off from Aki and Power not too long ago; ditching his assignment in favor of following a stray dog he'd spotted on the way. Unfortunately, he had lost sight of the dog soon after and now he was lost, wandering about the empty streets.

Just up ahead he spotted a park. It was one of those parks with a half playground; just a singular slide and a standard two-person swing set. There were also quite a few benches that littered the outer border and faced inward toward the playground.

But something caught Denji's eye or rather someone did. On a bench sat a lone person, a human, at least from what he could see at the distance he was standing from them.

Their back was turned to him, but he could see right off the bat that they had some kind of food given the way their arms and mouth were moving. From the ever-shrinking distance he found himself at, Denji believed it was a burger or something; he'd heard those were pretty damn good.

A nice, pillowy, sesame seed bun, melty cheese, crunchy pickles and onions, a thick juicy patty, and every condiment he could get his hands on... man, that sounds amazing right about now.

G U R G L E

Shit, now he was hungry.

Unfortunately due to ditching the blood-loving psycho and cock blocking top knot that were his partners, he had no money to buy food.

But the person on the bench had come to a stop next to his food... would they share with him? Or at least give him some money to buy his own? Probably not, but it's worth a try. So, the chainsaw devilman took a seat next to the stranger and simply glanced at their food from time to time, looking away every time they looked at him.

"Here."

The stranger softly spoke, catching the dirty blonde's attention.

In their hand was half of the packaged snack that they were previously holding; it looked like a bun but it was shiny with a criss-cross pattern on the top. Denji froze, not knowing how to respond; he didn't think he would get this far. Hell, he didn't even know what they were giving him.

"It's melon bread. I didn't poison it or anything; you saw it in the package already."

The stranger speaks again, this time standing up and holding the snack out the the devilman.

Hesitantly, Denji took it from their outstretched hand. He looked it over and lifted it to his nose, taking in it's fruity scent. Then he took a bite; and his mind was blown.

"I hope you enjoy it, you looked hungry. Well, see ya."

The stranger smiled at him gently, letting out a soft chuckle, before turning and walking away.

The dirty blonde-haired boy jumped a bit as he watched them walk away. Was it weird that he wanted them to stay here a bit longer? Should he tell them his name?

But, unfortunately for Denji, when he had finally made up his mind, the stranger was gone.

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

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