#um. i’m kinda terrified

[twiishaa]

hiding in my room because my dad is angry core 🎀

[trashbaget]

mentally ill side (is there a mentally well side) of tumblr—what advice/tips/thoughts of any kind on getting psychiatric help do you have??

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

working up the courage to put a watermark or a tag on my art like

[lovebugism]

hey honey can i request a shy!reader x grumpy!eddie , maybe they’re pumpkin picking with friends & something angsty ensues but then fluffy & after they all go eat at the diner and get spooky themed orders 🤭

thanks for requesting lovie! — eddie gets grumpy on a fall outing with the gang (shy!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s a big ol’ grump at Eugene’s Pumpkin Patch, but he’s being really brave about it. He follows you like a puppy, visibly unamused about the whole thing but trying hard to be a good boyfriend despite his woe.

“Ah! Look at this one!” you gasp at the sight of a pumpkin, in a sea of bright orange pumpkins. 

Swallowed whole by your sweater, you crouch in the tall grass and reach for the tiny round thing hidden in it. The runt pumpkin sits neatly in your palms. “It’s so wittle,” you singsong up at Eddie in a tiny, high-pitched voice.

He smiles despite himself, laughing even though he’s grumpy, ‘cause you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna get this one,” you announce affirmatively when you rise to full height again.

“You made me drive an hour out just to get the tiniest pumpkin they have?” Eddie asks, laughing still but with a subtle bite of annoyance.

You try to ignore it, though the weight of his aggravation makes you writhe. “But it’s cute…” you defend with a weak shrug. “And also, you have to get one, remember?”

You take a tentative step towards Eddie, standing chest to chest. He huffs and puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His chocolate eyes flit around the expansive farm, dull and unimpressed. “They all look the same, so… I don’t think it really matters.”

“It does matter!” you insist, girlish and quiet and stubborn. “You have to pick the one you like the most— that’s the whole point!”

“You’re telling me there’s an art to pumpkin picking?” the boy teases with a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side so his curls bunch at his shoulder.

Still clutching the tiniest pumpkin either of you have ever seen, you nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He scoffs again in a curt laugh. He looks around again, only to point to the one sitting by his feet.

“Alright… How about that one?”

“Eddie!”

“What?” he whines in the same pouty tone as you.

“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you murmur, a bit sad you have to even ask. 

You always spiral when he gets weird, secretly terrified that it’s all your fault. He doesn’t talk, so you overthink. Your brain gets mean, and you need Eddie to make you feel better — but he can’t because he’s weird. It’s unbearable. For both of you.

“It’s cold and rainy and Steve’s pants gave me a headache on the way over and I don’t feel good, okay? I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles with a pout, looking visibly pained about all of it.

Any excitement you had left leaves you like an ebbing tide. “Okay,” you mutter with a soft nod.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” the boy announces. 

He smacks a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he goes but doesn’t bother to invite you to come with him. He doesn’t feel very deserving of your company right now, too selfish in his woe and painfully self-aware about it.

You stand in place while he walks back to the van, feeling utterly alone and unwanted.

“Where’d Eddie go?” Steve wonders when he walks up to you with Robin at his side. 

They carry two pumpkins each, struggling with each of them because they’ve somehow managed to find the biggest ones on the whole farm. You figure they made a bet about it because everything’s a competition with them.

“Um… to smoke, I think,” you answer shyly, embarrassed to have been found alone for a reason you can’t name. “He just kinda… left.”

Robin scoffs. “I think he’s on his period,” she jokes with a gritty laugh.

“Yeah. He said my pants looked stupid before we left. I knew something was up.”

The brunette girl side-eyes the boy beside her. “I think he might’ve been right about that one, Stevie.”

You make a quiet exit when they begin to bicker back and forth. You duck through the bustling pumpkin patch and try not to trip in the tall grass on your way to Eddie’s van. 

Your boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot. You find him leaning against the trunk, blowing out smoke from his pink mouth, slouching like he’s weighed down by his own sadness. 

“You okay, Eds?” you ask to announce your arrival. 

His eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. He’d pretend to be fine if it didn’t take all the energy he had left. “No,” he answers honestly, then quickly corrects, “I mean— I am, but… I feel bad. I was acting like a dick…”

“Yeah,” you concur with a nod. “You were.”

He’s too shocked to hide it on his face. You’re never normally so confrontational. You’re usually too quiet for that, too soft. And you still are now, because you always are, but he feels like he deserves to see this sterner side of you.

“But it’s okay. I know you didn’t wanna come in the first place.”

He turns on his shoulder when you stand at his side, towering over you as he flicks the butt of his cigarette. “Yeah, but… I didn’t have to be such an asshole to you about it. I feel like I fuckin’ ruined this whole day, you know?”

“We all have our moments, Eds. It’s no big deal,” you assure with a weak shrug and a stronger smile. “We still have the whole afternoon left— you didn’t ruin anything. Doesn’t make me love you any less, either.”

Your words make him grin. Like, really grin — all wide and rosy and boyish. You make him smile like nothing’s ever hurt him. Like nothing’s ever been wrong in his life. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.

“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he mumbles but doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his sneaker right before kissing you absolutely stupid.

He wraps his arms around your neck, smothering your face with his. No one’s ever been kissed as hard as he’s kissing you now. The realization makes you smile too wide to kiss him back.

He pulls away from you with a hearty smack. With pinker lips and chocolate eyes, he grins hopefully down at you. “So you’re not mad at me?” he wonders, gentle like a child.

“Yes,” you nod, playfully firm. “I’m very mad, actually.”

Eddie’s smile widens. He knows you’re joking and decides to lean into it. “What can I do then, huh?” he murmurs lowly to you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”

He wants to kiss you again. He wants to get you in the back of his van in a vacant parking lot. He wants you to tell him to make you feel good and not to stop until you’re pushing him away.

You know all of this, ‘cause you can practically read his mind, so you decide to drive him crazier. “I want you…” you start in the same low tone, bordering on sultry. 

Eddie’s already nodding. 

You smile and continue. 

“…To go pick your most favorite pumpkin in the whole patch, and then take me to Benny’s Burgers.”

Feeling slightly disappointed and utterly teased, Eddie searches the entire patch and finds the weirdest-shaped, wartiest pumpkin the earth has ever grown. He drives the gang to the diner after and sits you in his lap when all of you squeeze into one booth. 

He shares his milkshake with you and lets you have the pickle slice that comes with his burger when you ask for it (‘cause everyone knows it’s the best part). It’s the purest form of love, if he has anything to say about it.

[itsnevercasual]

Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

-

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

-

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

-

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

-

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

[loveinhawkins]

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 5: Cass)

<<Part 4: Jason    |    Part 6: Steph >>

[Masterlist]

Cass: (signs) My turn :)

Steph: Before we begin, I want to clarify that I only wrote the words on the slide and they are exactly as Cass told me to write them. Everything else is alllllll her.

Bruce (stressed): If you are denying responsibility I can’t imagine what I’m about to see.

Dick: Favorite colors? Steph what’s so bad about that?

Steph: It’s... you’ll see.

Cass: :)

Jason: Shocking from a vigilante who called herself “Black Bat”

Tim: Steph this seems fine?

Steph (sweating): Guys just wait

Cass: :)

Barbara: Specific...

Steph: I do love those shorts :)

Duke: Steph was that your big surprise?

Steph: Oh, no. No it’s not.

Dick: Um so when did you take that photo of my bed? And why have you been in there enough to know my multiple sets of bedsheets?

Cass: :)

Tim: I mean they are a nice color

Dick: Aw thanks Tim

Jason: UM? THAT IS A PHOTO OF MY KITCHEN?

Tim: We already established that we regularly break into your apartment

Jason: ROY INSTALLED THOSE TILES YESTERDAY.

Cass: :)

Jason: I hate all of you. But I’ll tell Roy that you like it or whatever

Damian: Brown, I believe I am beginning to recognize the pattern that worried you.

[Stephanie sinks into her chair]

Duke: Oh no. Flattered, but oh no

Tim: Duke. Duke what is that

Barbara: Oh my god that’s like... iOS -5

Duke: LOOK I like my phone :(

Jason: So you haven’t updated it since 2010?

Duke: i get it i need to change my password can we please move on

Tim: CASSANDRA.

Jason: Oh my god

Tim: WERE YOU IN THE CEILING? CASS WHAT IS THIS

Cass: :)

Damian: All of your inabilities to detect Cassandra’s presence is rather sad. I would know immediately if someone entered my space or tampered with my possessions.

Jason: So I assume you knew all about this “tampering” then, Gremlin?

Damian: move forward move forward move forward

Dick: Aw, Damian! You never show us your art!

Damian: it’s not even finished please god stop looking at it Cassandra progress with the presentation

Bruce: That is very nice, son.

Damian: ...thank you Father.

Cass: :)

Tim: IS THAT BRUCE SLEEPING

Jason: HOW DID YOU...?

Dick: Oh my god...

Bruce: I don’t even... okay. Yeah, sure. Thank you Cassandra.

Cass: :)

Duke: Cass, I hope you know you terrify me.

Damian: This was... educational.

Steph: I thought that would go worse honestly

Tim: I mean we already know she’s kinda creepy like that, at least the intentions are good?

Jason: Or she’s totally messing with us. And I don’t think we’ll ever know that answer.

Cass: :)

Steph: Alright well I can go next :)

<<Part 4: Jason    |    Part 6: Steph >>

[Masterlist]

[minus-plus-zer0]

"You Know You're Fictional, Right?"

♡ Genre: Fluff, crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You just wanted to fuck with his head, that's all.

"Katsuki," you said to your loving and ever-patient boyfriend, "you know you're fictional, right?"

"Hah?"

You leaned on his bedroom desk, giving him the utmost pitying and concerned look. Bakugou was not having it today.

"Don't you got anything better to do than to mess with me?!" Bakugou banged his fist on the desk. "Why the hell are you accusing me of being fictional?"

"I'm only warning you for you own sake," you said, voice wobbling from sadness. Bakugou just narrowed his eyes at you. "I've wanted to tell you for a while... but..." You sniffled. "I didn't know how to bring it up!"

"So now that we're dating, you wanna pull this shit?"

"...Yes? I-I just needed to earn your trust before I--ah!"

Bakugou tickled you and you giggled, wrenching yourself away from his evil fingers. You caught your breath a short distance away from him, while he grinned madly in his seat.

"Got you back," Bakugou said, satisfied at your state of disarray from the tickles. "Now don't go calling me fictional again! I'm your real boyfriend! Not a fake one. Who do you think you're calling 'fictional'?"

"But what if I have to go back to my home world someday? you asked. "You can't just avoid this conversation, Katsuki!"

"I can and I will. Now, are you gonna cuddle with me or not, babe?"

You sighed and curled up in his lap while he finished his homework. You continued to ramble on about your theories regarding your shared world, how superpowers weren't natural, and how even All Might didn't exist in the world you supposedly came from.

“Am I the most popular in your world?” he asked, barely trying to humor you. “Or do those idiots got bad taste?”

He was the most popular, but you wouldn’t tell him that. “No, it’s actually Midoriya.”

“What?! Him?! You’re lying! That world is messed up.”

“You still have plenty of fans though!”

“...Are they weird and creepy fans?”

“Um… define ‘weird and creepy’.”

“Uggggghhh." Bakugou held you tighter in his lap. "Just shoot me.”

“Don’t say that!" You stroked his head. "At least people still like you at all! They love seeing your adventures!”

Bakugou slammed his pencil on the desk. “That wasn’t for them to see! That was private! You hear me? Private!” Bakugou lowered his voice, his face close to yours. “What goes on between us is private too. Now don’t go telling your little imaginary friends what we do. That’s only for us to know.”

Bakugou kissed you and then turned back to his homework. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You still don’t believe you’re fictional,” you murmured. “Poor baby is in denial.”

"It’s ’cause your world sounds boring," Bakugou said, mindlessly writing out answers in his homework. Then, he turned back to you. "You should stick with this one. I want you staying here forever. You’re mine.”

"Katsuki, I was only trying to prank you. Of course I'm staying here!"

"Then why the fuck did you bring up all that sad shit about leaving to your own world! Don't say that kinda crap outta nowhere!"

"But that's my specialty."

Bakugou kiss-attacked your face, making you giggle as you swatted his terrifying kisses away.

"Specialty my ass," Bakugou said, beaming at you. "Go be special at something else then, how about that? Like tell me about your day or who's been bugging you. Don't go talking about how you're leaving me, it pisses me off."

"Katsuki, you know how my day was. We hang out all the time!"

"Well then fucking remind me!"

Nothing you did could convince Bakugou he was fictional, and maybe that was fine. The next day, you instead tried to make him believe that you were his fictional girlfriend, and he didn’t like that either.

“I didn’t get an imaginary girlfriend ‘cause I’m supposedly lonely, dammit!”

“I don’t know,” Kaminari said. “It sounds pretty plausible for you.”

The moment Bakugou’s hands started exploding, Kaminari ran away screaming. From then on, Bakugou had to prove to everyone that you and him were actually together and that no, dating him was not another one of your elaborate pranks. And from now on, Bakugou will side-eye you if you mention any other fictional crushes you have...

(This one has been sitting in my drafts for ages!)

[woodenanemone]

your eyes fluttered open, the sudden feeling of warmth above you waking you from your sleep.

you open your eyes to see choso above you, his arms framing your head, pulling back from his kiss on your forehead. your eyes squinted from the light streaming in the room, reflecting on his face that softly smiled down at you. he looked like the sweetest angel, but you could barely appreciate it through the fogginess of your post rested state.

“good morning. I’m sorry to wake you, but I really couldn’t wait to see you.” he apologized softly, his hand coming up brush your cheek. you sighed at the contact, feeling yourself growing more awake as the time passed. “good morning, choso. it’s alright, I should be up anyways.” you groggily responded while sitting up, causing him to shift, now sitting by your knees. “happy valentines day.” he smiled warmly. you smiled back, now remembering that this is his first valentines with a lover, and you started to understand his eagerness to spend the morning with you. you wished him the same, stretching and yawning. choso rested his hand on your cheek once more, and you blink in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his expression.

“in truth, today means nothing to me.”

you flinch at the bluntness of his words. “Um—?”

"please, don’t mistake my dismissal of this holiday for dismissal of our love. I mean it in the way that…,” he paused for a second, his eyes drifting down to your lap, thinking. “I’d be sickened with myself if my affection for you couldn’t even transcend the 14th of february. no teddy bear, no hallmark card, no rose in the world could ever even begin to show my adoration for you. The love I feel can't be boxed and tied up with a bow, and gifted to you on a single date of the year. Even 365 days is not virtually enough time to give you the feelings I have. my love for you is boundless, vaster than any sky, and deeper than any ocean.”

your mouth opened, then closed again. he just made that up on the spot? and really… how does he expect you to respond when he gets like this? “ocean’s can only go so deep, choso.” you teased, holding his chin. and with that, his face morphed into the sweetest smile you’ve had the pleasure of seeing, his tone sincere.

“I’d claw at the oceans floors until my fingers bled. and then I’d keep digging, into the very depths of hell, to expands its depths. but even then… the distance couldn’t hold an iota of what I feel for you.” and he meant that.

“I love you, and I wish I could tell you how much I love you. but there aren’t enough words in the world to say it, no language eloquent or evocative enough to ever even begin to convey just how I feel looking into your eyes. the eyes which… could make even the mute, inanimate moon tell all her secrets to. in all honesty, I’m so scared that if any man in passing meets this terrifying gaze, he too will fall into insanity, like I have.”

“how do you even come up with this stuff?” you say exasperatedly, shaking your head at your lack of a better response. he shrugged. “even an illiterate man could recite words of Shakespeare in grand verse, if he were only so lucky to have the privilege of seeing your smile.”

“...it’s 9 in the morning. please, at least give my heart the chance of getting through breakfast.”

ngl i kinda hate this but i cant come up with anything better rn..

i wish you all a happy valentines day, i hope you find nothing but love and adoration !

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: pegging

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

pegging: in which someone penetrates another person's anus, usually with a strap-on dildo.

Excited was an understatement.

You were well-known. When you’d first started, you’d only been a camgirl recruited by the agency and had never had sex with another person on camera. It was liberating managing to do that, and even more liberating when the money started flowing in. You started having sex with bigger and bigger stars, and the amounts of money got unbelievable. However, today was the day you’d been waiting for.

Seo Changbin was another star in your agency. You hadn’t gotten the chance to film with him yet, because your schedules were always too packed, but you were a resident viewer of his videos. He wasn’t quite dominant, more of a passionate lover when he put his co-stars in a headlock with his muscled arms, but it made your clit throb nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to have him.

Except, not everything worked out the way you’d expected - that’s not to say it wasn’t in your favour. The agency had decided on a Halloween shoot, two of their biggest stars fucking on camera while dressed up in some raunchy costumes. You’d heard the premise and agreed on the script, but when you heard the plans they had for you… well, that was really a game changer.

A Playboy bunny skit was one thing, but a skit where you weren’t the bunny, but Changbin was? Now, that intrigued you. It had you flipping through the script to imagine it differently. He’d be in a pretty little black bodysuit, pushing those muscled pecs up and with cute ears perched on his head atop a headband. It sounded perfect. All you had to do was play the part of his dominant, the woman who was going to fuck his brains out with her biggest strap-on. It was easy.

It didn’t seem easy when you saw him. You thought you were going to go insane. Prior to the shoot, you’d been put in a pink satin dressing gown, soft ivory cotton adorning the wrists and the hemline. Obviously, you had nothing on underneath, and Changbin stood by the doorway to your dressing room, all muscled arms bulging over his bodysuit and a cut-out in the fabric showing some very appealing cleavage. Your jaw dropped.

“Hi,” He was shy, embarrassed despite bouncing over to you like he really was a little bunny. His ears shifted and he huffed, pressing the headband down onto his dark, curly hair. Your makeup artist fiddled around with your own hair, trying to get it perfect for the shoot. “I thought I’d introduce myself. We’ve never really crossed paths. I’m Changbin.”

You licked your lips, nodding to ground yourself. Be yourself. Be cheeky, be nice. “Hello. It’s so nice to meet you. It looks like we’ll be co-stars today, huh? Are you excited?” Damn, did you have to sound so formal?

Changbin hopped from one foot to the other, eventually settling on crossing his broad arms over his just-as-broad chest. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve bottomed before, been pegged and whatever, but never on camera. I guess I just wanted to ask you to go easy on me.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” You blurted. Even your makeup artist paused. Changbin’s eyes widened. “No. No, what I meant was, like- you look good. You look hot, Changbin. I’d be lucky to peg you. I am- I am lucky to peg you.”

It’s just sinking in. You’re going to peg him, and you’re terrified you’re going to cum untouched. You’ve already forgotten the script.

“Oh! Heh,” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, staring at the floor with a smug, downturned grin. “Right. You’re hot too, by the way. Really hot. I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you, and since I found out the premise, well… I’ve kinda been looking forward to it even more. Is that weird?”

“Not weird at all, me too,” You gushed. Changbin finally reverted his eyes to you, a real, toothy smile adorning his face when he saw how excited you really were. “Have you- um, have you… y’know. Prepped?”

Changbin blushed, a crimson shade covering his cheeks. He was so cute, you thought you were going to have a heart attack before the cameras even switched on. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. The surprise, I mean.”

“I’ll like everything else, too,” You nodded solemnly. Changbin giggled, a chiming overtaking the room. You blinked when he turned around and bounced out of your dressing room, and your makeup artist sounded like she was choking back a laugh. You groaned. “Don’t.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say anything, honey.”

When you arrived at the set, Changbin was already there. The set was cute, at least, fairy lights adorning the walls and bed sheets a blush baby pink. He looked cute too, laying on the bed scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t dressed like the best bunny you’ve ever seen. You fucking loved Halloween.

You crawled onto the bed regardless, making Changbin jump and drop his phone. “Hi again,” You murmured, one finger running down his side. He jolted, giggling like it tickled him. “You really do look cute, Changbin.”

“Bin is fine. Even- even Binnie. I prefer Binnie-”

“Alright, quit the flirting,” Hyunjin chirped. Hyunjin was the best director you’d worked with. He didn’t mind if you went off-script, so long as it was all authentic and real. No fake orgasms, obviously. The sex had to look like art. Jeongin was his cameraman, and when you first met him, he’d been awkward and blushy - now, he looked at you with indifference apart from a cute grin on his pouty lips. You were so proud. “I know we sent you the script, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to just kiss first, be natural, lead into whatever. Sounds good?”

That was another thing about Hyunjin. He loved to change the plans. You nodded, before briefly looking around the room. “Where’s the dick?”

“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, looking at Changbin. His eyes ran down to his crotch. “It’s there.”

“No, the strap-on, you idiot,” You huffed. Hyunjin giggled, before nodding towards the floor. Oh. There it was, clear as day, a bright pink strap-on that looked way too big to fit into someone comfortably. You hoped Changbin’s surprise helped him out with that.

Unsurprisingly, it did. Changbin rolled over onto his tummy and shook his ass at you teasingly with a grin, and you caught sight of a white fluffy bunny tail sticking out of a hole in his bodysuit. Oh. Oh, right. It’s a plug.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped, reaching down to immediately grab it. Changbin jolted, eyes widening, and you took your chance. You yanked his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a dirty exchange of lips, teeth and spit. You briefly recognised Hyunjin and Jeongin mumbling to each other, and then the cameras switched on. You pushed Changbin back, letting his toned back rest on the bed and then you were in his lap, ignoring his whine at feeling the plug pressing in further.

You kept kissing him, unable to stop. His lips were so saccharinely sweet, and you could feel one folded-up bunny ear from his headband tickling your head. His tongue darted around your mouth and he let his hands grab at your waist, clothed erection grinding up into your naked pussy. You pulled away, smirking at him as you ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, before standing up and walking away. The cameras stayed on, recording every step you took as you crossed the room to examine your strap. You had to get to the point, or you’d be kissing him forever.

“The plug’s very cute, bunny, but do you want something bigger?” You muse, running your finger over the strap. Changbin nods, lips kiss bitten as he looks at you with teary eyes. “You want my strap, baby?”

“Y-Yeah. I- Hnng. I want your cock, please, mommy,” Changbin gushed, thick thighs spreading to allow you between them. You could see the bulge of his cock, hard and fat and pressing against the black satin of the bodysuit. You raised an eyebrow, however. The mommy kink was definitely not in the script - was he this far gone already?

You smiled and let yourself get back on the bed, strap in hand. You moved your free hand to his side, thumb tracing across his clothed hip bone. "Mommy’s going to give you what you want, sweetheart, you don’t need to beg.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his once more and guided his mouth open with your tongue. You pulled away, letting out a low hum of arousal as he watched you with anticipation. Changbin’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you ignored the wetness accumulating on your folds as you let the pink robe drop, fully naked underneath. Your nipples were pebbled against the cold air, and Changbin’s gaze dropped to them, eyes widening.

“You like them, baby? Maybe you can suck on them while mommy fucks you nice and deep, yeah?” Changbin nodded, reaching out to you to pull you on top of him. You pressed your hand on his tummy softly, pressing him to the bed to calm him down. “I have to get the strap on, baby. Why don’t you take that bodysuit off for me?”

God, that was the best sentence that ever left your mouth. Changbin wriggled out of his bodysuit and he was left naked, all muscled, honey-toned skin revealed to you. His nipples were hard upon his broad chest, dark dusky peaks that begged to have your tongue running circles over them. His cock was hard against his soft tummy, short and thick and anticipating some attention - but your eyes immediately went to his cheeks. The plug stayed firmly inside his tight hole, fluffy material peeking out from tanned planes of skin. He really was the best bunny you’d ever seen.

Once the strap was firmly set on your hips, bright pink silicone alarming to the eye, you reached down to play with the plug inside his hole. He jolted, whining and spreading his thick thighs further for you, cock twitching in desperation.

“Please, please,” He huffed, chest heaving. “Please, mommy. I need something bigger, need something bigger in there, ‘s not enough, bunny needs-”

You cooed, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you, bunny, spread nice and wide for me.”

He obliged, letting his thighs hang over his hands in a pliant, open position, and then you reached down to pull the fluffy pom-pom tail out of his hole. It slipped out, still slick with lube, and you groaned lowly at the sight.

“C’mere,” You ushered Changbin, and when he moved to come closer, you let the fake cock hang in his face. “Spit on it, bunny. We’ve got to get it wet or it’ll hurt, huh?”

Changbin moaned, nodding with urgency, and then he was sucking the tip past his lips. Oh. That’s not what you meant, but you were absolutely loving the view. He sucked half of the length into his mouth, moaning around the silicone as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He was putting on a show for the cameras, you realised - you’d honestly forgotten they were there, too engrossed in the pretty bunny on display for you on this set.

You pulled the strap out of Changbin’s mouth, slapping the head a few times on his full, doll-like lips, before you were moving backwards to press it against his hole. The tip pushed in with no resistance, stretching his tight, little hole back out around the silicone. It was the rest of it that was an issue - Changbin thrashed around as the flared shaft entered him, stretching him further than the plug did and making him whine.

“‘S- ‘S big, mommy, bunny feels so good,” He huffed, cheeks blazing red. You could tell he’d lost all sense of coherence, and you understood why he’d never bottomed before on camera. He got way too into it. It stopped being porn, and started being more authentic - but then, Hyunjin liked that after all. You let your hips start to move against him, slapping against his skin, and he whined with approval.

You had to amp up the ante, though. “You’re like a bunny in heat, Binnie,” You mused, positioning yourself on your forearms above him. Changbin moaned, a guttural noise that made your pussy clench sadly around nothing. Maybe you could convince him to fuck you again after this, off camera. You thrusted into him a few more times before pulling out, making him whine at the loss. “Come and ride me. Hop on my cock like a good bunny, yeah?”

Once you were positioned on your back, Changbin scrambled to press his hole above your strap. In this position, you could see him properly, bunny ears askew and his cute cock bouncing against his tummy. He gasped as he sunk down on your strap again, the fake cock filling him up beyond belief.

“Oh. Oh, mommy, ‘s deep, deep, pressing against my, my-“ He cut himself off with a whine, hands coming to rest on your tits while he bounced. You cooed softly, hand rubbing over his thighs where they clenched with the exertion. He was quite literally bouncing like a bunny - he couldn’t stop his own movements, bunny ears flopping over his eyes and whines flooding out of his mouth. “It’s never felt this good. Oh, God, it feels so good, I need’a cum. Need to, oh, bunny needs to-“

“Ssh, ssh,” You mumbled, hand wrapping around his cock. It leaked beneath his foreskin, drippy and pearlescent as you started to pump it with a tight fist. You wanted him so bad - but this was about him. The cameras too, which you had forgotten about again. “Cum for me then. Cum on my tits, bunny, c’mon.”

Changbin wailed, hands moving to find purchase on your thighs. The change in position had him bouncing quicker, and you accompanied it with pumps of his cock at the same pace.

“G’na cum for mommy,” He mumbled, cheeks blazing crimson. It took two more bounces and you rubbed your thumb over his slit. When he keened, fingernails digging into your skin, you took that as your cue and aimed his cockhead at your tits. “Cumming! Bunny’s cumming, cumming, fuck!”

You watched in awe as his cock spurted out thick ropes of white cum, smothering your tits in the warm liquid. He gasped and writhed on the strap through his orgasm, hips slowing to a soft grind and eyebrows furrowing. You pumped him a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm, and then you let his softening cock go for some reprieve. With one finger, you swept up his cum from your skin and sucked it into your mouth, humming at the salty taste.

Changbin huffed out a breath, collapsing on top of you unceremoniously. His headband slid upon his dark hair again and you giggled, pulling it off of his head altogether to run your fingers through it.

“Okay, wow,” Hyunjin huffed. You blinked hazily towards him, seeing him and Jeongin stood there with dropped jaws. “Okay. Okay.”

Jeongin giggled, pressing a few buttons on the camera. He grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room despite the fact that the elder man seemed rooted to the spot. “I’ll take him away. You guys did great, just chill for a minute.”

Changbin giggled against your neck, and then he shifted his hips, letting the fake cock drop out. On autopilot, you rubbed your thumb over his gaping rim, grinning when he jolted and gasped.

“You really didn’t take it easy on me, huh?” Changbin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You burst out laughing, chest shaking. “I did warn you,” You began, and then you felt awkward. He was snuggled up to your chest, sated and relaxed as if it was home, so… could you ask him? “Bin. Do you want to, like… go on a date sometime?”

Changbin perked up at that, looking at you with his usual downturned smile. “I’d love to.”

[occasionallycoinpin]

occasionally coinpin 141

Hello everybody my name is Markiplier and welcome to Five Nights at Freddy’s, an indie horror game that you guys suggested in mass, and I saw that Yamimash played it and he said that it was really really good; so I’m very eager to see what is up - and that is a terrifying animatronic bear *reads off script* family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the night shift. Oh, 12:00 A.M, the first night. If I didn’t want to stay the first night, why would I stay any more than five? Why would I say anymore than two - hello. Okay...Hello? Hello - oh, ah I can’t move. That’s a creepy skull...There’s creepy things on the wall - Oh, hello. *Phone Guy begins dialogue* “Hello, hello hello,” Hi! “Uh, I wanted to record a message for you, to help you get settled in on your first night.” Eugh.. “Um, I actually worked in that office before you, and I’m finishing up my last week now as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming..” Euuagh..! “But I’m here to tell you, there’s nothing to worry about,” Agh.. “You’ll do fine! So, let’s just focus on getting you through your first week..” Okay! Sounds go- “Ah, let’s see..First there’s an introductory greeting from the company that I’m supposed to read - i-it’s kind of a legal thing, you know, ahm - ‘Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza-” Okay “‘..A magical place for kids and grownups alike-” *Mark wheezes indistinctly in the background* Heheha.. “..Where fantasy and fun come to life,” Eugha..! “”Freddy Fazbear entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person, upon discovering that damage or death has occured, a missing person report will be filed within ninety days or as soon as property and premises had been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpet’s have been replaced,’ blah blah blah - now that might sound bad, I know, but-” Yeah! “-There’s really nothing to worry about! Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No, if I was forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years, and I never got a bath, I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So just remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children, and you need show them a little respect, Right?” Okay! “-Okay-” Ha-okay! “So just be aware, the characters fo tend to wander a bit-” Nehaheugh- “They’re one some kinda of free-roaming mode-” hehauhuhugh! “Uhh.. Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for two long,” Oohoohoo- “Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day, too, but then there was the bite of eighty-seven.”

[httpscomexe]

You go into Wades room at night but he’s not there after a horrible nightmare so you take the jump and use Logan as a shield instead??//You also act like Wade so Logan kinda hates you

Never

Summary: You search for Wade in the middle of the night after a nightmare, and he's not there, but his bestfriend is.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan x Wilson!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, mentions of violence, really just angst, no major warnings. I wrote this really fast and with really long nails on my laptop, so ignore any spelling errors. (Almost put "creaming" instead of "screaming" so yea)

Word Count: 1100

“Wade?” Your voice shakes, you had just woken up from a nightmare, and it wasn’t your usual nightmare either. It wasn’t sad or just scary. No. It was terrifying.

You had woken up in your room in the dream from the sound of someone screaming and yelling, it was Logan, you’d recognise that voice from anywhere. Ever since Wade had invited in his new roommate, he’s seemed to hate you, giving you sideways looks left and right, but you hadn’t done anything wrong, or at least you didn’t think you did.

But the same morning when you were awake, you and Logan had gotten into an actual argument, you knew he was drunk. Normally when he came home drunk, he would go to his room and just sleep it off, but this time was drunk and pissed because of something Wade had said, what it was, you didn’t know. But you were sure the entire argument is what led up to the nightmare you had. Another argument, but with violence.

Logan was so mad at you in the dream, you were crying and screaming in pain, but he continued to yell at you and throw everything at you including pots and pans until there was nothing else to throw at the wall, then-

“You’re still up?” The voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you turn to see Logan looking you up and down.

“Just can’t sleep.” You whisper softly.

“Why are your eyes red bub. What’s got you crying?” He tucks a thick cigarette into the pocket on his chest in his flannel and he takes two steps closer to you, making you cross your arms uncomfortably and bite your lip.

You knew it was just a dream, but it all felt so real.

“I just had a little nightmare, where’s Wade?”

“Vanessa needed him.”

Vanessa. His girlfriend. Or fiance, or whatever they called themselves.

“Are you okay?” He takes another step closer and reaches to place his hand on your shoulder, making you wince in fear, which he automatically pulls back.

“I’m okay Logan, it’s just normally when I have a nightmare, I’ll spend the night with Wade.”

“He’s actually good with comforting people?”

“Well it depends really… I’m his sister so-”

“And yet you two are completely different.” He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, making him appear bigger. More intimidating.

“Sorry if I woke you up, I’ll just go back to my-”

“Do you wanna sleep with me?” He spits it out like fire, pausing for a second as his own words seem to surprise him. “Sorry I just… I hate to see you sad.”

“It’s okay… I’ve bothered you enough today.”

“It doesn’t count if I was drunk. You never bothered me, not as much as Wade.” He tells you, lifting his arm up and moving to wrap it around your shoulders, slowing enough to not make you wince. “Come on, I’ll keep you safe.” He brings you to his room, and the smell of cigarettes and pine wood immediately floods your lungs, you love it.

“Thank you…” You’re still unsure about it.

“Of course.” He locks the door behind the both of you, immediately going to his closet and pulling out a soft blanket. He knows you can’t sleep without one.

“Thank you.” You take the blanket and move to his bed, sitting with the blanket only over your lap.

“Hey uh… I wanted to apologise.”

“For?”

“For yelling at you earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sits next to you on the bed, and you can tell his usual hard attitude is no longer there.

“Oh um…” Your stomach drops, the nightmare coming back to you like a bullet just flew through your organs, making you feel sick, a tear falling down your cheek.

“Shit…” He scoots forward, using his thumb to wipe your tears, and you’re genuinely embarrassed. “I’m sorry… What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing… God I’m such an emotional whore…” You chuckle to yourself but then see the look on his face.

“Don’t call yourself that.” He tells you, no joking tone in his voice. “What’s got you sad, be honest.” He gently strokes your cheek, and only then do you realise how close he was to you.

“I uhm… I had a nightmare.”

“I figured that-”

“About you.” He stills, not a word coming out of his mouth as he stares into your eyes. “You were so mad at me.” Your voice cracks, more tears falling down your face which he’s quick to wipe away. “You were… You were throwing everything at me… Hurting me… Then when there was nothing left to throw…” You whine a little, your eyes moving down to find his other hand, resting on his thigh. You bite your lip as you remember how painful it felt… The three claws lodged into your abdomen, as your mouth hung open in a broken scream.

“Hey…” He whispers, moving close and cupping your face. “Honey I wouldn’t ever hurt you.” He stares into your eyes with a sincerity you didn’t know was there before. “I wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you.” He leans down a little to reach your level, trying to be honest with you, and you take a deep breath. You know he’d never hurt you, but the dream felt so real. “How about… we get some sleep. You look exhausted.” He tells you, looking down at your pillow. You nod.

You lie down as his hands leave your face, and you feel him lie down next to you as he turns off his bedside lamp, but you face away from him.

When you feel his body pressing against your back, your breath hitches in your throat.

“Hey, are you still awake?” You nod, not sure if he saw it in the dark. “I’m sorry your dream scared you.” He tells you, his arm moving to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, his arm under your tank top, and you feel his skin. He’d taken off his shirt. “But I promise you, I will never hurt you. And if someone ever did hurt you, I would fucking kill them.” You chuckle a little and turn your head to look at him, your faces barely an inch apart. “Wade is my best friend… and you’re his sister.” He continues. “I would tear apart the entire fucking planet to protect you. Don’t you ever think otherwise.” He finishes by pressing a kiss to your cheek, showing you a softness you didn’t know he had before.

“Thank you, Lo.”

“Anything for you, angel.”

[sh4wty18]

makeup.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: you and johnnie are dating and decide to film a video of you doing his makeup

cw: fluff, language, suggestive but nothing major

word count: 1.5k + edited

---

“Hey guys! So today I’m here with…”

“Y/N!” you finish, slightly nervous as it’s your first time streaming alone with Johnnie.

Johnnie giggles a little, sensing your nerves. He gently squeezes your thigh under the desk, out of sight of the viewers, letting you know he’s here for you. You grip his hand in return and squeeze, and he grins in response, stating matter-of-factly,  “Yes! And this is her first time streaming with me! She’s gonna do great, guys. She’s a hundred times cooler than me as it is.” he gazes into your eyes while he says this, providing you with the comfort you need to get over your fear. 

The thought of thousands of people judging your every move is daunting, but you know Johnnie just wants this to be a fun experience for both of you. Plus, his fans have been wanting to see you guys interact on screen for a while now. The edits of you guys together are really cute to be fair, it’s just the sudden fame that comes with dating an internet celebrity has been… a lot. Luckily for the most part, Johnnie’s fans have accepted you with open arms, and they seem genuinely happy to see him finally in a healthy relationship. 

“So today…” Johnnie starts, “Y/N and I thought it would be fun for her to do my makeup, you know, since we have such different styles and stuff.”

“Wow… that description was… enlightening” you respond fake-sarcastically, which elicits an equally fake-sarcastic eye roll from Johnnie. 

“Alright let’s just get into the makeup then if my girlfriend is gonna start bullying me now…” he trails off, as you begin to laugh and grip his arm, and soon he’s unable to contain his own giggling. Even though you both share a jokingly-sarcastic sense of humor with each other, neither of you can ever get through a bit with a straight face. One of you always ends up dying of laughter and the other can’t stop from joining. Johnnie never laughed this much with anyone– other than maybe Jake. But once you guys started dating a few months ago, Johnnie’s been all smiles. 

“Okay, okay!” you say, catching your breath. “So like Johnnie said, our styles are super different. He’s emo and I’m kinda just doing whatever I like at the time. So I figured I would do my typical going-out makeup look for him today.” 

“I’m terrified.” he responds, “I’ve seen your going out looks… There's a lot of glitter involved. I mean you look hot but…”

“Oh you’ll be fine.” you snarkily reply, “You always look hot anyway, this’ll just… amplify your beauty!” 

He laughs, “Okay… I guess I trust you, girlfriend.” Johnnie has made a habit of calling you girlfriend as much as possible. It started as a joke between you guys– pet names that is. You would call each other pookie and boo bear and stuff like that over text and in instagram comments, eliciting hilarious responses from your fans, who had fun trying to figure out if you were being serious or not. Then one day, he called you girlfriend while greeting you in one of his videos with Jake, and you called him boyfriend in response. Ever since then, you’ve been unironically using those titles for each other. You both know it’s corny, but you don’t care. You’re too in love to care. Neither of you have ever felt this deep of a connection with anyone you’ve dated. Nothing about it can be “cringe” because you’re both too happy with each other to mind. 

“Um.. I would hope so, boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at him and he tilts your chin towards his face and kisses you. “Enough PDA, we have work to do!” you back away as he tries to go in for another kiss, “At least let me get started,” you smile back at him, cheekily. 

“Guys did you see that? She swerved me. What the fuck? This is so unfair. My girlfriend hates me.” The chat goes crazy, most people going along with the bit and saying stuff like “how dare you y/n😔” and “nooooo she gagged him lmao💀” 

“Needy, needy man” you grip his chin and peck him, “There, happy now?” 

“Yes… we can start the makeup now” he grins fake-maniacally. 

“Okay, I don’t use primer so we’re just gonna jump right in with concealer…”

—

“Stop, stopppp that’s enough!!!” Johnnie pleads in his raspy vocal-fry shout you’ve heard so many times before in his videos with Jake. 

“We’re almost done, you’re such a fucking baby” You laugh as he blinks down on the mascara wand for what feels like the hundredth time. “Okay now all we have left is lip gloss. But I figured we could do this the fun way, since you are clearly obsessed with me and wanna kiss me so bad” You flip your hair, “I mean, as you should!” 

“Alright we gotta keep this PG for the kids,” Johnnie says in one of his silly voices.

“Since when have your videos ever been PG, sir??” 

“Well… I guess you have a point,” he replies, leaning in and kissing you gently on the lips. You lean into it, and hold his cheek. You both pull away after a couple seconds, not wanting to fully start making out, which is where your innocent kisses usually lead. But considering you’re on stream, maybe that could wait until the cameras were off. 

You apply your favorite lip gloss to your own lips and smirk at him. He quickly catches on and says, “Oh so we’re chapstick challenging this bitch, huh?” 

“Oh yeah.” you laugh, and grip both sides of his face with your hands. At first you plant your lips firmly on his, actually attempting to transfer the lip gloss directly onto his lips. But then, you start planting kisses all over his face, leaving pink sticky smudges wherever your lips decide to land. 

“NOOOO!!! NOOO! HELPPP!! I’M BEING ATTACKED BY MY GIRLFRIEND. CHAT SAVE ME” Johnnie yells, gripping the sides of his desk to try and escape your grasp. 

“You’ll never escape me!!” you yell, leaping out of your own chair and onto his lap, continuing to plant kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. He grabs your waist with one hand, and your neck with the other, pulling you into a real, passionate kiss. One of your hands grips the headrest of his office chair, while the other cups the base of his neck, playing with his hair. 

He gasps for breath after a good twenty seconds, and you two both turn to face the camera, flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. “Well… sorry about that guys.” He says sheepishly, then turning to you adds, “The editors are about to go crazy on that one.” 

“No for real” you respond, giggling, “I don’t mind.”

He gazes into your eyes like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved, “Me neither.” And you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“How did I get so lucky, guys?” you ask. The chat responses have been super positive since the kiss, with comments ranging from “i feel like i’m interrupting something lol” to “the way he looks at her😭 they’re so in love omg”

“Well, now that I look like a pretty princess, I think we’re gonna call it here, guys. Thank you so much for joining the stream, and if you wanna buy my merch go to johnnieguilbert.com, oh and stream my music.” Johnnie finishes the outro and looks up at you, who is still sitting on his lap, “Anything you wanna add, y/n?”

“Ummm… I guess just that I think this was a really good first one-on-one stream, and you guys all made me feel super comfortable and welcome here, so thank you. Also, look how cute Johnnie looks! He’s so pretty with my pink eyeshadow on. You should do this more often, boyfriend.” 

“We’ll see about that, girlfriend.” he giggles, “And I’m glad you felt comfortable today, you’re awesome and I love being able to make content with you. Alright, bye guys.” he switches off the camera. “You did great! Just like I knew you would. I love you.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, but you can’t say you weren’t expecting it. The way you act around each other, there’s no other name for it other than true, unconditional, intense love. “I love you too, Johnnie.” 

You swing one of your thighs around his legs, straddling him, and he grips your ass with both hands. You wrap your arms around his neck as he leans up to face you. He kisses you like you’re his lifeblood, like he needs you to survive. It’s messy, and primal, and you’re both out of breath and gasping for air, but neither of you want to stop. And in this moment, you know you would do anything to be with him like this, forever. Feeling him, tasting him, breathing him in. You’ve never felt anything quite like this, and you don’t think you’ll ever want to be with anyone else ever again. It's just you and him.   

---

posted this on ao3 first, and i still have 3 more from my ao3 to repost here! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[apomaro-mellow]

32 and Steddie? (Also hallo 🩷)

Hi!

Eddie was on edge. And it was because Steve was on edge. How collected Steve was usually seemed to be dependent on who else was around. Typically, if it was just the two of them, Steve kept his head on straight because it was a given that Eddie would go off the rails.

But today, Steve was the one pacing around the basketball court like a caged animal and it was looking more certain that he'd race off through one of the doors. Eddie was sitting on the bleachers, hands on his knees. He thought they were playing a friendly pick up game. Eddie wasn't an athletic nut, but he liked to move. Basketball had come more into play recently as a way to be around Steve.

Getting hot and sweaty with his wettest dream was nice but not as great as actually scoring and seeing the impressed look on Steve's face.

Then all of a sudden, it turned. And so here they were, both parties at an impasse as one waited for the other to speak.

"Steve", Eddie ventured. "You're kinda freakin' me out."

That was the wrong thing to say, if Steve's stiff posture was anything to go by. He stopped pacing on the sideline and faced Eddie. He took a deep breath, but then seemed to be frozen in time. Eddie stood up slowly.

"...Steve?"

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

"Oh, um...oh", Eddie took a step back. "I'm...I'm sorry? I guess, I get that I'm not what you want and all-"

"What? Eds, no! You're everything I want", Steve said quickly. "It's because I'm not the one you want."

Eddie frowned and it bordered on angry. "Who the hell told you that?"

"I heard from your bandmates about the people you used to date. They were really hardcore and I'm just...not."

"Stevie, sweetheart", Eddie took a bold move and stepped closer to cradle his face. "You're so hardcore if any of them had to spend a single day in your shoes, they'd shit themselves. And even if you were the softest cream up in all creation, I'd give anything to call you mine."

Steve smiled so sweetly and Eddie really wished he could lean in and get a taste.

"You really think all that?"

"If I'm lyin, I'm dyin", Eddie said.

Confidence renewed, Steve stepped more into Eddie's space. Arms wove around his body and pulled them together chest to chest.

"You know, I've always kinda had this fantasy of making out on the half court line."

"What a coincidence", Eddie grinned. "I've always fantasized about deflowering a jock on school property."

Send me a pairing and a number for a drabble

[weebsinstash]

hi! I cannot understand Val’s personality at all, and you’re my favorite writer for him, so I was wondering if you could tell me how he’d react in a situation where his darling is being harassed at a bar he’s not at? Like darling obviously has a tracker on their phone and they know it, but they also can’t leave the bar because that risks them getting kidnapped

maybe Val has already started calling them and leaving voicemails because they no showed, so you know that if you don’t call him and have an immediate reason for not responding you’ll probably be in for a very painful night, so you tell whoever is harassing you that you need to go into the bathroom, and it’s very obvious that they followed you but aren’t in the bathroom, so you just take out your phone and finally answer one of Val’s calls, and you make it obvious your crying, but you also hold the phone away from you so it doesn’t seem like you want Val to know your crying.

after that I’m kinda stuck on how he’d react, but if you’d rather not add to this it’s fine, this was part me wanting a response and part me wanting to tell someone my ideas

If it makes you feel better I also find Val's personality to be levels of inconsistent however I kinda interpret it being inconsistent because he's um an extremely emotional person and also an alcoholic addict and he's constantly pinballing between "oooo this will make me money" to "oh you've pissed me off PERSONALLY therefore I will rain fire upon you", like we have several instances of Valentino potentially sabotaging his business for kicks and Vox has had to reign him back in, and he still gives Angel actual fucking black eyes even when there's still filming, he doesn't even care about not leaving marks since everything will heal eventually

I feeeeeeeel like... it really depends on how his darling grovels to him and explains what is happening. You ditched him, you're out at a bar, you were ignoring his calls, and now you're telling him you're with another man. An abusive man would usually automatically assume "oh you're in a bar? Fucking slut trying to find other men, this is what you fucking get" but since we're having, you know. The Yandere Talk, I feeeeeel like.... it goes one of a few ways

One is he's absolutely pissed in general, at you, at the guy, just misfiring rage and snapping. You're bawling ti try and explain your situation and he snaps he can barely understand you because he can't regulate his anger and, it isn't INHERENTLY being mad at you, he's mad he can't understand you, but he's horrible at communicating that, so he shows up to rescue you and (unintentionally) has you trembling in fear of him because he's speaking to you like "where the fuck are you hurt?! Show me? Ugh, this bruise is huge, it's so fucking ugly, UGH-" and he's like not blaming you but is being so terrifying about it that, you're pretty convinced you'll be hit by him at any moment and maybe it would be you FLINCHING HARD at a sudden movement of his for him to, finally take a second to begrudgingly take a few deep breaths and his tone finally softens and he can stop freaking you out even more than you already are

Option 2 I see is that you answer the phone when he's in the 'love' of the love and the hate he switches between, so you catch him in the middle of one of his "baby you know I care so much about you, it just makes me a little wild when you leave me waiting" sort of voicemails. You finally pick up and you get this slightly catty "ohhhhh, look who it is,you remembered how to answer your phone! I missed you" and the second he can tell you're crying, you're just like, hearing all this stuff in the background and he sounds like he's been drinking but when is he ever NOT drinking "awwww, baby no, that's terrible! *heels clicking wayyy to fast for him to not be literally power walking his stiletto ass somewhere* I'm sure Daddy will be able to get everything sorted out *car door slams* and I'll show this lowlife fucking freak exactly what he deserves *moves the phone away from his mouth to HOLLER at his driver to 'get a fucking move on or I'll fucking kill you'* so don't you worry, ok baby? ❤️ make sure you stay on the phone with me, mhm? *click click click of him loading bullets into a magazine* so what's this motherfucker look like, he's uglier than me, right--"

And then I guess another unique outcome would be uh. You pick up the phone and he's just instantly shouting screaming fuming at you so much that he's like screaming for a few solid minutes before he's finally like "are you even gonna say anything you dumb whore?!" and that's when he finally hears your voice but it's not even your voice, it's your breathing, like you can barely even get any air out, like you're having a panic attack, you can barely even raise the volume of your voice above a whisper and your voice just keeps cracking and shaking, "v val" and like, the very first SYLLABLE out of your mouth he knows something is BIG WRONG because you sound TERRIFIED and you can barely even speak, "some-someone's outside the bathroom.... he says he'll hurt me... I don't know what to do....!" and like that's it. It takes Val from 100 to 0 real fast. He goes from "if you're not on your way home in five fucking minutes-" to "what did you just say" and he's completely quiet as you're like struggling to speak, "i-i'm in-in a stall, but he's... OUTSIDE.... WAITING..." and you just sob with a hand over your mouth but he can still hear it and he's already on his way

Do you think Val knows how to fight and I mean like BRAWL. Valentino's still on the phone with you and he can barely even hear you and he suddenly hears the man's voice, he's come INTO the bathroom now, he's OUTSIDE your stall, antagonizing you, scaring you, grabbing the top of the door and shaking it like it's nothing. You're SCREAMING because you're in A FUCKING STALL and he could either rip the hinges off or just like COME UNDER OR OVER and then you're done for so you're like TERRIFIED WAILING I mean shrieking like a murder victim because oh god oh god oh god you're gonna double die--- and you just hear the door to the bathroom get kicked open and the guy is just like RIPPED away from your stall and CHAOS follows. You hear all these thudding, smashing, crashing, breaking sounds and when you finally hear nothing but Val's voice telling you to come out he's just standing there covered in blood and the dude is on the floor with his face an unrecognizable SLUDGE because Val grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the edge of the sink until it was knocking teeth out of his mouth. Valentino is over here, reaching for you looking like that scene from The Witch of Mercury

Except unlike in Mercury you're like, only temporarily in stunned silence before you're like, RUSHING to be held by him because you're just scared and bawling and he SAVED YOU and you're so happy you didnt get hurt. Like the duality of him touching you to comfort you but probably getting blood on you maybe even ALL OVER YOU because he's just touching you that much and you're clinging to him that much

I feel like there are times where Val may intentionally NOT save you to use it as some sort of punishment/lesson to manipulate you with later but I feel like the ways in which he would knowingly allow his darling to be hurt are nuanced and contextual. He'd pay a guy to mug you and rough you up to teach you a lesson about leaving the studio on your own, or set up a fake kidnapping, but you come back into the studio ACTUALLY hurt? Stabbed, limping, whatever? He's furious. No one gets to hurt you. Everyone in this entire fucking circle of Hell should know who you belong to by this point and if they're hurting you, they're disrespecting HIM

..... and also you're his cute widdle baby and he doesn't want his boo getting hurt, at least not in a non fun non sexy way 🥺❤️ see sweetie, this is exactly why you should listen to him at all times and never argue with him on anything ❤️

[bearieio]

too hot for you...

cod guys during a heatwave

characters: simon "ghost" riley, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish, alejandro vargas, rudolfo perra, könig

warnings: fluff! gn!reader

a/n: the weather has been UNBEARABLE down here in the south.. send help! thanks a lot global warming! (thanks a lot industrial revolution!) (￢_￢;) i also plan on doing a cold weather version once the weather calms down, so expect a pt. 2 in the fall/winter! also this isn't proofread bc it's 23:49 on a school night...

gaz quite literally RADIATES heat... so he is NOT having a good time during this heatwave. he's never gotten to the hotter climates on missions that took place in the hotter side of the hemisphere. 

he definitely adores the cold. which is why his electric bill is so high..

  one hot days like this one, he makes sure to plan out the day accordingly because he knows that no one, especially you, wants to go out in the blistering heat. 

  he’d be a little weary about touching you for too long, knowing how it makes you feel uncomfortable to be hot and sticky (wink wink) for too long.

  kyle would most likely make one of those forts that have a fan running through it (cuz he crafty like that) to keep the both of you cool while laying down together, both of you in starfish positions.

-

price is the exact OPPOSITE of gaz. he likes the heat.. but not when it’s like this.

  “todays high is… 103 DEGREES? FAHRENHEIT? CELSIUS?!” 

  “yeah… let’s stay inside today, sweetheart.. the mall can wait.”

  unlike gaz, he’s immune to most amounts of heat, but in SOUTHERN WEATHER? this man gets RED when he even takes a quick look outside. the sun is this mans only enemy. 

  he makes a MEAN smoothie. filled with both veggies and fruits to make sure you take in as many vitamins and minerals as humanly possible. he loves taking care of you wherever and whenever he can :')

  definitely hosts the world’s best barbecues and invites everyone. he’s also one HELL of a cook. he gets the grill goin’ and he can make some shit happen. 

  ++ he also own those silly aprons that have like “kiss the cook,” “my wife loves my meat,’ “real men like their pork PULLED,” "bearded cooks are way better"

  +++ he takes ice baths in the backyard.. a cigar in his mouth, news paper in one hand, ice cold beer in the other.  idk it just seemed like something he'd be doing.

-

soap loves to cuddle and refuses to let go when you tell him that you’re getting sweaty.

  “ugh! c’mon, you know i love your hot n’ sweaty scent!” 

  “..ew johnny.”

  makes a KILLER lemonade. idk what he puts in it but oh my god it’s amazing. not too tart but also not too sweet. brings it to every one of price’s bbqs. 

  his tolerance to heat it quite moderate, and he doesn’t mind the heat. but naturally he’ll be outside until he’s about to collapse because of the sweltering heat.  

  he literally tries to fight heat stroke back. he strokes the heat stroke.

  when you complain about being hot he’ll fan you with anything, for however long. you always feel bad about letting him fan you for an extended period of time, but he reassures you that he doesn’t mind.

  “it's fine, baby. don't worry about me." he says with a slight smile, watching you lie there, enjoying the fanning johnny provides you with.

-

ghost is always cold to the touch, even when he’s been outside, going through drills with his other teammates. 

“how are your hands so cold?!”

he gazes over at you, breathing hard, a thin layer of sweat atop his skin, “what? i’m dripping with sweat. i been outside for the past 2 hours!?”

can and will drink piping hot tea while it’s 99191099 degrees outside. 

  “sweetheart can you get me a cup of tea?”

  “…what? in this weather?!” you reply, confused and kinda terrified.

  he returns the confused look, “um… yea?”

  i don’t think he likes dresses according to the weather.. like he will wear 4 layers of clothing + his trusty balaclava, and seem completely fine (he’s not). 

  ++ in winter he’ll be like one of those middle school kids who wears shorts and a short sleeve shirts, without a jacket.

  +++ i think he secretly hates the heat and prefers to live in colder places, since it was usually cooler where he grew up. 

-

 unfortunately, rudy's love language is physical touch and CANNOT keep his hands off of you. even when the A/C goes out and the both of you're left to fend for yourselves in the sun-drenched heat.

  “r-RUDY GET OFF OF MEE!” 

  “mi amor, PLEASE!-“

  hosts the best carne asadas with alejandro and invites everyone (mostly to one up price’s bbqs). serves the best horchata, limonada, and other agua frescas. 

  picks the hottest days to invite people over and spend hours with you in the kitchen, cookin up a STORM! most DEFINITELY loves teaching you new cooking techniques and ways to improve the flavor, texture, and presentation of your food.

  with having grown up in las almas, he’s pretty used to the heat. he enjoys the hotter months out of the year because thats when his family came together the most.

  ++ i actually think rudy is a really good cook… like his skills are literally otherworldly. and tamales de puerco are his specialty ^^

-

alejandro loves hot weather as much as rudy does. in fact, its the time of the year when they hang out the most. hosting parties, gatherings, and other events in the sweltering heat… but it’s okay because everyone leaves with new memories and smiles on their faces (and maybe a lil bitta heat stroke).

  the days where he isn’t hanging out with rudy or the rest of the guys, he’s at home with you. playing all kinds of games that he grew up playing with his friends and family. he beats everyone in loteria EVERY time. luckily he doesn’t make you bet like he does when he’s with the guys.

  ale stays outside more than the average person when it’s hot. you’d be on the couch, binge-watching a show you promised your friends that you’d catch up on, when you actually get to watching the show, ale heads outside. by the time you’re done with the first season, he’s coming back in, slightly red and covered in sweat. 

  “where did you go?”

  “around the block… why do you ask?”

“yOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR 3 HOURS?"

++ when the weathers nice and hot, he likes to get away and go on roadtrips with you. of course he's usually the one driving, but he loves when you offer to drive.

+++ he LOVES being by the pool. whether it's the one that you guys have, one of his buddies' pools, or the one located inside his base, he cannot stay out of the water. he also has MULTIPLE pairs of swimming trunks... for every occasion.

++++ he most likely keeps up the summer tan he has goin' on.

"it's not a skin color, it's a lifestyle [name]- see you wouldn't know that because you’re-"

-

könig doesn’t have any particular opinions about how hot it is. he notices it but it doesn’t bother him. not like how the cold bothers him.

  during the hotter months i think he doesn’t mind staying inside but he’d also love to be out n’ about, with you by his side. 

  the days end up being long and peaceful. especially because all the two of you do is nap and watch TV together. he thinks it’s nice to be with you, but he’d rather be outside. 

  the only time that the two of you would go out is during the evening when the sun decides to be less aggressive with the earth.

++ i just have a feeling that könig loves to be outside and “one with nature.” he loves how calm everything seemed when he takes hikes in the forest or atop a mountain. 

+++ i also think that könig would be the best bartender EVER. idk i feel like he knows his way around a martini glass or whatever. he puts those skills to use whenever you guys have date night/a night in, concocting drinks with flavors you don’t think you’ve ever tasted before.

“schatz, what will you be having to drink tonight?”

“surprise me” you chirp back at him, winking. 

he looks down at you, sitting on the stool at the island located in your guys’ kitchen “coming right up!” 

a/n pt2: alejandro's tan will never be better than mine (i'm black)

ANYWAYS! constructive criticism is appreciated !!!