#bug blurb

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.

[heartfullofleeches]

Bugman and absolutely feral centipede hybrid darling- Darling breaks into Bugman's family home on a night when it decides to visit for something to eat - sniffing out the stockpiles of meat their "family" keeps on the property. Bugman, seeing this aggressive bastard trying to bite one of their family members, immediately has heart eyes for them - recognizing the fact they are a humanoid centipede down to their species. It woos their future spouse with meat and gentle praises.... Honestly it's mostly the meat, but it's the thought that counts.

-

[Screams can be heard from the kitchen as Bugman walks down the hall leading to the dining space]

Bugman: What is all this commotion?.... Hm?

[Bugman peaks around the kitchen table - Centipede Darling attempting to bite through the wood spoon lodged between their pincers as they pin a cultist to the floor. Bugman briefly makes eye contact with the cultist before picking up a discarded slab of meat on the floor.]

Bugman: Here. This is what you want, is it not? Please do not harm my family...

[Centipede Darling sniffs at the air, crawling off the cultist towards Bug. They snatch the meat from them - sitting at its feet they munch on the raw steak.]

Bugman - star in their eyes: [whispers softly] You are.... beautiful.

-

Bugman, leading Centipede Darling on a leash: Brothers.....Sisters.....Siblings....This is my partner, Y/n. I advise you keep an arms distance with them. They do tend to bite.

[Centipede Darling leans closer to Bugman - every cult on edge and some even clutching the knives beneath their robes as Darling opens their mouth. Darling instead licks Bugman's cheek slowly]

Bugman, face flushed a soft pink: I appreciate the display of affection, but please - not into front of family.

-

[Bugman walks out of museum it volunteers at, chatting with another employee as they head down the steps.]

"C'mon, dude- it's just one party. You'll never find a partner if all you do is go home afterwards."

Bugman: On the contrary, I've already found a suitable mate for myself. Also, I ask you not to call me that. My name is Bug.....Oh. There my spouse is now.

[Bugman speed walks over to Centipede Darling, wearing a cultist's robe to hide their tail. Darling picks Bug up and walks off - the other worker catching a glimpse of reader's tail as they leave.]

[eiightysixbaby]

Since we're feeling subby guys tonight: catching best friend!Eddie adjusting himself when he sees you in a cute dress and taking care of him like the good boy he is xoxoxoxo @munson-blurbs

bug I hope this is everything you wanted it to be 🤗

You’re brushing out the wrinkles in your dress with your hands, frowning slightly in the mirror. You don’t think you look bad, but you’re just not sure if it’s the right outfit. Huffing, you swing the bathroom door open, stomping into your best friend’s room to get his opinion. His bare back is to you, and you swallow, getting ahold of yourself before speaking.

“Eddie, what do you think of this dress? I’m just not sure if I love it and I might go back to the other outfit with the skirt-” you ramble, Eddie turning around from where he’s rummaging through his closet.

He stops in his tracks, eyes widening for half of a second as he takes in all of you. His mouth is slightly agape as he stands there, a shirt hanging loosely from his one hand.

“Hello?” you snap your fingers, far too frustrated with the task of selecting an outfit to have patience for his antics. “If you don’t like it you can just tell me, you’re never afraid to be honest any other time,” you rest a hand on your hip now, waiting for him to say anything.

He realizes then that he’s been standing there like an idiot, straightening immediately. “What? No! Sorry, I- uh- you look great,” he says, his voice going higher pitched at the end, and he mentally smacks himself for it.

“Right. That was convincing,” you say sarcastically.

“No nooooo no no, I’m serious,” he says, regaining a bit of composure now. “You look… really good in that.”

You eye him quizzically, looking back down at your body and holding out the fabric at the hem of the dress, deciding. You look back up at him, just barely catching the way he adjusts the awkward bulge that’s formed in his sweatpants.

Your eyes go wide, arms crossing over your chest as you try to fight off a smug little grin.

“W-what?” Eddie asks, scratching the back of his neck, trying desperately to keep his cool. He didn’t think you’d catch him, figured he could rush into the bathroom to change before you clocked his totally obvious boner.

“Are you fucking hard right now?” you ask, your tongue pressing to the inside of your cheek as you chuckle.

“No,” Eddie denies, holding his shirt in front of his crotch. Way to make it discreet, loser.

“You think you can handle it if I wear this dress tonight? Think you can keep your composure?” you tease, throwing caution to the wind in terms of this being your best friend that you’re talking to. It’s about damn time you had an excuse to flirt with him.

“I- I… um,” Eddie’s stammering now, his cheeks growing nearly red with embarrassment.

You walk closer to him, taking the shirt gently from his grip. His dick is straining within the fabric of his pants, and you open your mouth in a gasp when you see it.

“All this just for me?” you purr, pressing a hand to his stomach and trailing down slowly. He swallows, hard.

“Y-you’re so fucking beautiful,” he forces out, blush still evident on his cheeks and now his neck.

“Why don’t you take your pants off for me, pretty boy,” you say, voice dropping an octave as you look up at him.

“What?” Eddie asks, nerves clearly heightened as his hands fidget.

“Did I stutter?” you ask, pouting at him. “Take. These. Off.”

Your hand comes down to pull at the waistband, letting it snap back against his skin. He hisses, his shaky hands coming down to slide his pants down his legs.

“Boxers too,” you add, watching his every movement.

And so the boxers come down too, Eddie’s hands tentatively tugging the fabric down. He’s breathing heavily as his cock springs free, fully exposed to you now. He feels vulnerable, having not expected his best friend to see his dick today. The way your eyes widen when you see it, though, is definitely a confidence boost.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, and he nods emphatically.

Delicate hands come down to his crotch, one of them wrapping around the base of him and the other swiping the pre-cum from his pink, swollen head. He takes a sharp breath in, a strangled whine coming from his throat when you squeeze his shaft.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” you say, batting your lashes up at him.

“W-we’re gonna be so late to Robin’s party,” he rasps, running a hand through his wild curls.

“She’ll understand,” you murmur, smirking when you cup his balls and he groans. You drop down to your knees and Eddie swears he’s about to ascend to a different universe. His cock stares you right in the face, your fingers squeezing the tip and letting more of that pearly liquid leak out.

“You’re really okay with this?” Eddie asks, tilting your chin up gently so you’re looking at him.

“Eds, I’ve been dying to get my hands on you,” you admit, and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. “Now hush and let me take care of you,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to his tip.

He curses under his breath when your lips wrap around his cock, one of your hands still gripping the base of him. You let your tongue swirl around him, catching the saltiness of his pre-cum. The sounds he’s making are sinful, pitiful, and relentless, grunts and whines and whimpers tumbling out of him from even the tiniest action on your part. Your knees dig into the carpet, mouth taking as much of him as it can, and your hand pumping the rest of him.

You squeeze his balls, rolling the flesh between your fingers, his hips jolting forward into your mouth.

“Sorry - shit, sorry,” he pants, “-that just feels so fucking good, gonna cum if you keep that up,” he says, his voice strained with all of the effort it’s taking him to not fall apart completely.

You look up at him through your lashes, your tongue licking a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, the tip of your nose brushing it. Your hand squeezes his balls once more, making him twitch and curse. He stares down at you, focused on the way the top of your dress pushes your tits together, thinks about how your chest would look decorated with his cum. Your head bobs on his cock quickly, tongue teasing his slit when it can.

“Fuck, baby, baby,” he moans, fingers tangling in your hair. “I’m gonna fucking cum, please let me cum on your chest baby please,” he begs, the sound of it music to your ears.

“So good when you beg for me,” you say, pulling your mouth away and letting your hand pump him to his release.

A few harsh strokes and his cock is twitching, ropes of sticky cum hitting your neck, your chest, even your chin. Eddie’s breathing is staggered, his chest heaving as you work every last drop out of him. The sight of you covered in his cum is just as glorious as he thought it would be, and he’s sure it could make him hard all over again if he stares for too long.

“Better now?” you ask, rising to your feet.

“Fuck yes,” he says, voice breathy. “You’re fucking unreal.”

“If you’re good, maybe we can sneak off into the bathroom later and have round two,” you say softly, letting his arms pull you close to him.

“In that case, I’ll be so fucking good. Whatever you need is yours, baby,” he replies, heavy-lidded eyes still filled with desire.

“Oh, and I got all the confirmation I needed from you. I’m definitely wearing the dress tonight,” you say, winking at him as you walk back into the bathroom to clean yourself off. “Now get dressed, we have to go.”

[astrophileous]

Derek giggling when Bug starts to waddle due to pregnancy 🤭 she doesn’t find it funny or endearing at all but he literally cannot stop watching her. He tells the team about it too and they just.. kinda smile and nod because they’re just happy that he is.

Somewhat a continuation of this other Love Bugs blurb. Thanks for the request love! (and apologies for the delay because I've been very focused on The Countdown lately)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer stretched his back at the mysterious and unfamiliar sound. Next to him, JJ's eyes squinted in concentration.

"You hear that, too?" JJ mumured as she studied her surroundings, trying to pinpoint where exactly the sound was originating from.

Spencer nodded in confusion. "Who the hell—"

The question died in his throat when his eyes finally landed on the figure sitting across the room.

"No way." Spencer's elbow jabbed JJ's side, snatching her attention. "It's Morgan."

"Morgan? Derek Morgan?" JJ craned her neck to see around the partitions that blocked her direct line of sight. "What is he—don't tell me. Is he... is he giggling?"

As if confirming the ridiculous notion, Derek proceeded to cover his mouth and broke into, not laughter and not even a chuckle, but a series of giggles that made his broad shoulders shook. JJ and Spencer exchanged an incredulous look before they meandered sneakily towards him.

"Someone's happy," JJ quipped as she leaned back against the conference table, right next to where Derek was sitting.

The man in question looked up at the sudden interruption.

"What are you even watching in there?" Spencer asked curiously, trying to take a peek at the screen of Derek's phone that the latter man had been grinning at for the past few minutes.

Instead of tilting his phone away, Derek unexpectedly faced the screen towards his two coworkers instead, giving them an unobstructed view of what appeared to be a video of you.

"Penelope sent it to me." Derek grinned before pressing replay. "She waddles."

The video started playing then, showing a footage of you walking like a penguin as you struggled to carry the various snacks inside your arms. You looked up to the camera at the sound of Penelope's laughter, your face twisting into a pout when you noticed that it was pointed towards you.

"Peennn," you whined childishly. "Are you filming for him again?"

"He said he wants to see one where you waddle, Beets."

The scowl you were wearing was clearly visible through the screen. "Tell him to stop. It's not cute."

"I don't know." Penelope hummed. "It's pretty damn adorable from where I'm sitting."

The video ceased to black after that, and Derek retracted the device without ever wiping the smile off his face.

"You've been watching this for the past ten minutes?" Spencer questioned.

"Yeah."

The younger man looked as if he had something else to say, but he never got the chance to, as Derek was quick to immerse himself back in the video and watching it so earnestly as if it was the greatest movie in the history of mankind. Spencer and JJ shared a look before making themselves scarce. It was definitely weird seeing Derek act this way, but they didn't mind it one bit if it implied Derek's unadulterated happiness and your guaranteed safety.

For the rest of their stay in Louisville, Kentucky, the BAU became witness to Derek's blooming glee as it incessantly doubled in size with every video Penelope sent his way. More often than not, he'd let the team watch the videos as well. After all, they had also been missing your presence in their midst since you began your maternity leave, and every single one of them couldn't wait to finally welcome your baby boy into the world when the time finally came.

Derek was buzzing with excitement the moment they boarded the jet, impatiently counting down the minutes until he would see you again as the jet started its ascend. An hour before they were supposed to land, his phone began to ring in his pocket, flashing with the affectionate contact name that he had assigned for the team's tech analyst.

"Yeah, babygirl? What?" The sudden raising of his voice caught the attention of everyone on the jet. They watched from their respective seat as Derek sat up straight, running a frantic hand over his face. "Okay. Yeah? And how is she? That's good. Alright, thanks for calling. Keep me posted."

The call ended after that, and Derek, uncharacteristically, proceeded to sit in silence for the following minute as if he had been frozen in time.

"Everything okay?" Rossi asked, voicing the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"That was Penelope. It's (Y/N)." The atmosphere shifted. "She's going into labor."

[lovebugism]

Omg bug we need a part two of “mean” Eddie and reader going on their little date 🤭 if you are up for writing it ofc 😌

pt. 2 of this fic

You didn’t show.

Maybe you just got lost. Eddie figures he shouldn’t have expected someone like you to know where The Hideout was. Or maybe you lost track of time. — but he’d told you the doors opened at seven o’clock sharp, and you’d repeated it back to him. He knows you did because you’d said it in that voice you use when you get all shy, as soft and as low as your meek gaze when you peered at him through your lashes.

But you weren’t just late. You weren’t fashionably late, either. You just never showed up.

Eddie wishes he didn’t care as much as he did.

He told himself he didn’t when you weren’t there at seven, but he looked for you in the meager crowd of twenty when eight o’clock rolled around anyway. 

He’d wanted to see you in the front row. He dreamt of putting on the best show The Hideout’s ever seen right before dedicating some cheesy love ballad to you. 

“This is for a really special someone in the crowd tonight,” he would’ve said into the microphone that smelled like beer. “You know who you are. Don’t let this go to your head, either, alright?” 

He even made the band practice Hysteria by Def Leppard so he could play it for you that night — so the lyrics could tell you everything he couldn’t — but you weren’t there to hear them. 

They ended up playing Love Bites instead.

He spends another two hours moonlighting as a rockstar.

Still in his ripped jeans and eyeliner, he slings a towel over his shoulder and ties an apron around his waist — a busboy all over again. He always forgets how sleazy The Hideout is until he’s got to clean it up. 

He mops sticky floors and wipes down grimy tables and tries to ignore the stinging in his chest every time he remembers that you were supposed to keep him company through it all.

A knock sounds at the front door at eleven o’clock. 

It’s Tuesday night — the place is empty now. Eddie’s been around long enough to know when drunks are out looking for a fix.

“We’re closed!” he shouts, more focused on scrapping off the syrupy ringed stain on the table than the relentless inebriate outside.

“C’mon, Eddie, it’s cold!” a familiar voice pleads, muffled through the door. “You’re not mad enough to let me freeze to death out here, are you?”

Eddie nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to look over his shoulder. 

You stand behind the foggy glass, mostly blurry but still beautiful. The bouquet of purple and red tulips is nearly as pretty as the smile your pair them with. Your floral skirt swishes around your ankles as the wind blows. Eddie winches when he sees you shiver.

He rushes to the door, scrambling with the keyring clipped to his belt loop. His sweaty hands fumble with the chain. It takes him three tries to get it in the lock. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think it was you.”

“I figured. It’s okay.” 

You walk through the door he holds open for you, the spring night breeze following close behind. Eddie shuts and locks the door again.

You spin on your heel to face him and hold the flowers out between you. “These are for you,” you tell him — soft and low and timid.

Eddie grins.

“These are very metal, sweetheart,” he teases. The plastic wrapping crinkles as he takes them by the stem.

“I felt bad for being so late,” you grimace. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“What flower shop is even open this time of night?”

“Zippy’s,” you answer curtly, gaze ducking down to your shoes a moment later.

“You went to a gas station all the way across town to get me flowers?”

You nod.

“No wonder you were late,” he scoffs. 

He saunters past you, then spins so he’s walking backward and facing you. His wild hair sways around his face. He clutches the bouquet to his chest. “Here I thought you off seeing some other schmuck.”

You roll your eyes, knowing no other schmuck has ever given you the time of day like Eddie has.

“I was late because of work,” you correct. Before you know it, you’re rambling. “I wasn’t on schedule for closing, but my asshole manager wouldn’t let me clock out. And I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find The Hideout in the yellow pages because it’s so old and—”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Eddie assures, practically cooing. It’s the softest he’s ever been with you, and he looks at you just the same — chocolate eyes melting as they twinkle at you. You’re left grieving his gaze when he turns to set the flowers on the counter. 

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” 

Through burning cheeks, you tease. “I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna get soft on me.”

“Oh? You thought that meant I cared that you came?” he scoffs, obviously joking. 

He squints down at you when you appear at his side — turns and presses his hip into the counter, and props his elbow along the top of it. “I’m just happy I got you outta the house. You’re like a damn hermit, you never do anything fun.”

Your face scrunches in discontent. “I have fun!” you correct.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie retorts, nudging your shoulder as he walks past you again — this time heading toward the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”

You’re grateful when he walks to the back without looking over his shoulder at you, lest he become a witness to the beam on your lips that’s far too bright to hide.

Eddie Munson is totally soft on you. 

It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re all but melting for him now.

You sit at the bar with a sweaty beer in your hand. “It’s obviously cheap, but it goes down sweet enough,” Eddie warned when he’d handed it to you. You sip from it, leaning back in your chair with your feet thrown on the one beside you — totally unable to take your eyes off the boy.

You watch through the partition behind the counter as Eddie makes a haphazard effort of basketing leftover chicken tenders and fries. He sets them beneath an orange lamp to warm again.

“A rockstar, busboy, and chef, huh?” you lilt, hiding your smile behind the beer you bring to your lips. “What else can you do?”

“When there’s a pretty girl in front of me?” he retorts as he swipes the crumbs from his palms. He looks at you with a smug grin and shrugs. “Just about anything, I’d guess.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with me. It’s gross. We don’t do that.”

Eddie laughs to himself, honey eyes squinting. “I’ve been flirting with you for about a year and a half now, sweetheart, but… Thanks for finally noticing.”

He carries the ruby red baskets in both hands when he comes out to sit next to you. You slide your legs off the stool for him — an invitation to be close to you without either of you having to ask.

“Am I gonna get food poisoning from this?” you joke, holding the greasy chicken strip between your fingers.

“The cook made them today,” he scoffs, already tossing a fry into his mouth. He talks as he chews. “Besides, we’d be getting sick together. What’s more romantic than that?”

God, you even think he’s cute when he talks with his mouth full. You’re so far gone for him, it’s not even funny.

Eddie smiles when you take a bite. Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, your empty stomach thanking you. 

“Good, huh?”

“Amazing,” you correct.

“Gross bars make the best food, I swear.”

You laugh softly together. Def Leppard croons from the speakers overhead. You wonder if Eddie knew this was your favorite band or if your favorite song is only playing by chance. You’re warmed either way.

“How was, uh… How was the show?” you ask him, as curious as you are desperate to fill the silence.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans and nods. “It was okay. Same as usual — the crowd was drunk enough to enjoy anything we did.”

“I’m sure it was great,” you retort at his self-deprecating tone, picking shyly at the fries rather than meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

He figures he doesn’t need to tell you about his bleeding heart that was close to breaking a couple of hours ago. You put a bandage over it the second you showed up at The Hideout — with flowers, no less. He’s just glad that you came at all. He meant it when he said that none of the rest matters.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs through the food in his cheek. “There’s always next time.”

You grin and knock the leg of his chair with your foot. “Already asking me out on a second date, huh?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he jokes through glowing cheeks. He tilts his head towards his shoulder. “But I’m not paying for your ticket next time, princess.”

Your smile widens. You prop your cheek on your knuckles, unabashedly gazing over at him. “That’s okay. I’ll be in the front row either way.”

“Promise?” Eddie’s lilt edges on teasing and sincerity. He momentarily abandons his own food as he mirrors your positioning, not realizing he’s leaning closer to you until he’s already doing it.

“Promise,” you nod with a smile so bright he thinks it could rival the sun.

He continues to shorten the distance between you — coming closer closer closer. You watch him, amused, and with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

You want him to kiss you. No, fuck that, you need him to kiss you. But more than anything, you need him to do it first — a cheeky little something to over his head when you’re kissing him later.

And you don’t mean to laugh, but the thought makes a giggle spill from your lips before you can stop it.

The bubbly sound knocks Eddie from his stupor. 

The tip of his nose just barely brushes your own. His glazed-over eyes fly open. He remains still, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow, as he blinks owlishly at you. The pretty pink mouth he was about to kiss you with falls softly agape. 

His head jerks backward a second later, almost in disgust. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he curses. His body shifts away from yours completely as he turns his attention to his half-eaten basket of fries. “That was— That wasn’t cool of me.”

Still smiling, you reach a hand out for his leather-clad forearm. You caress him soothingly there in reassurance. “No. It’s okay—”

“No, that was really fucking weird,” he says, forcing out a laugh.

“Right?” you scoff. “Why would Eddie Munson, the chef-busboy-rockstar, wanna kiss a girl like me?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his wild head to his shoulder to look at you. 

He finds you with a gleam in your eye, one that’s not usually there because, most times, he’s too busy making fun of you.  A smile hints at the corners of your mouth, barely there and beautiful. It’s a bit smug — twinkling with the satisfaction of finally having the upper hand.

Eddie figures it might pay off to be soft with you sometimes. He never wants you to stop looking at him like this.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he confesses quietly.

Your smile widens. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, eyes flitting away from yours.

“Don’t be,” you promise. Your nose scrunches softly. “…Wanna give it another go?”

His gaze snaps back up to yours. He has to fight the urge to tease you, lest he ruin the moment he’s been thinking about for months. He’ll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away from him now.

“Sure you’re not gonna laugh at me this time?” he lilts, looking at you from halfway beneath his lashes.

“I’m not gonna laugh at you,” you promise, though a grin’s already threatening to pull at your mouth.

“Promise?”

“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You let Eddie lean in first. He exhales a heavy breath from his nose that fans against your skin when your lips collide. The rosy plush of them lock with yours like they were made to do it. His palms rise to your jaw, keeping you tucked neatly against him when the moment threatens to pull you away. 

Your hands migrate to the lapel of his leather jacket. You tug him further to you — a promise that you’re not going anywhere.

You don’t laugh into his kiss this time.

You smile.

[stevie-petey]

Maybe a little baby blurb of Steve's daydream/ dream life with bug. Basically what he was imagining their life would be like outside of Hawkins. I always picture Steve daydreaming about it before bed😭

as always im missing steve n bug and since chap 3 is taking a while heres some fluff <333

enjoy !

"you need to sleep," steves lips press against your forehead. the skin is overly warm, scrunched in concentration.

you try to shrug him off. without looking up from your notes, you wave a dismissive hand at him. "no time."

"did you just shrug off my doting kiss?" steve scoffs at you, offended. only you still don't look up from your notes. he worries about your neck, he knows your back will ache later tonight. weary and full of concern for you, as he always is, steve softens his voice. "angel, youve been at this for days."

"just a few more hours, then i'll go to bed."

"you said that three hours ago."

"and now im saying it again."

youve been cramming for an exam since wednesday. its currently friday and your body hasnt left your desk since early morning.

steve cups the back of your neck, settling his palm against its base. He massages the joint that sticks out, eases the tension between the muscles. youre exhausted, its obvious to anyone. "come lay down with me."

"steve-"

"please?" he brings the tips of his fingers to your chin. gently, he angles your head up; his eyes meet yours. in the brown and honey that coats his eyes lays love and adoration, a softness meant only for you to see. "i miss you."

your eyes swim with conflict. steve can see the part of you that always abides by responsibility. you hate disappointing people, you hate failing. the only reason youre in college is because of the incredible scholarship you received for your academics.

yet theres a part of you that melts at the idea of laying in steves arms. to rest against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. feel his hand tangle in your hair, his nails scratching your scalp. youd wilt into his body and wrap around his ribcage.

"i..." you bite your lip, slowly giving in. steve knows the weight of your bones must be heavy. he strokes your cheek, finger lingering on your lips. closing your eyes, you admit defeat. "carry me?"

the moment the words leave your mouth, steve sweeps you into his arms and cradles you against his chest. carefully he navigates your small apartment. the walls are narrow and theres hardly any room to breathe, but itd been all you could afford in new york and it was only yours and steves. no one elses.

it was your home together.

steve sets you down on the bed and crawls in beside you. he throws his arms around you, encasing you against the world. burying his face against your neck, he settles his weight against you. you breathe him in, push yourself further into his body, and for a moment everything is still.

"im not going to bed, you know." you mumble into his shoulder.

he laughs, the sound reverberating your bones. "just lay with me for a little while longer."

"always," your lips whisper against steves skin.

warmth seeps into his chest, coats his lungs with sickly sweet honey. he can taste it in his mouth, it mixes with the aroma of your perfume. his body buzzes with all the love he has for you, for all the gratitude within him to have escaped hawkins with you. to be so lucky as to know youre still his, hes still yours, and that youve made something for yourselves despite all the pain youve endured together.

then a piercing ring rips through steves eardrums. he sits up in bed, heart pounding with adrenaline. his hand slams down on his alarm clock on his bedtime table, silencing it.

he rubs his face, groans with exhaustion.

steve had been having such a good dream. he can still feel your weight on his chest. he already misses it.

he'll blame robin for it later. shes the reason hes getting up so goddamn early, anyways. shes the one who needs a ride to her stupid pep rally.

[gurbs-blurbs]

Yoooooo new jacket dropped

Don't mind the messy room... anyway in light of the tour coming up and to have something to match the shoe vibes I've made my jacket have @narcissistcookbook and @bughuntermusic logos on the back

Also the Kirby gurby logo I made :D

If anyone going on the tour I'll be at the Boston, Buffalo, Akron,Indianapolis, Detroit, Chicago and Orlando! Please say hi to me I will only bite a little

Next up is some pants 👀👀 gotta figure out a design plan

[collectivecloseness]

Words can’t explain how much I absolutely love Eddie Munson with a tall!reader(male/fem/or gn). It gives off such Raven/beast boy, Gomez/Morticia, and Jessica rabbit/roger rabbit vibes. I love it so much.

As a 5’11 girl, when Eddie Munson is 5’10, this speaks to me HARD

Eddie would look up at the reader, especially if you’re wearing boots/platforms/heels etc just adding on to how tall you already are, esp compared to Eddie, and just be in awe. If you walk his back into something, or even pin him to a wall, Eddie’s shutting up for the first time in his life because he is literally just awestruck with you. Even you two leaning against your lockers, Eddie just once again realises how tall you are, by looking you up and down, and is, as always, so impressed by you. And boy does he want you.

Oh Eddie still picks you up. He does it whenever he can. But also he lets himself be a little less careful when he sprints and jumps on you, to get together to give him a piggyback, or catch him in your arms as he bolts. It’s sometimes a bit of a jumpscare when you just see him gunning it for you, focusing.

He’ll boast about his big strong partner. About how you can beat people up for him. How you two can be great partners in crime. All with his arm (slightly raised) over your shoulders. Eddie loves when you lean your chin on his shoulder, or his head, and when you’re leaning on him, or touching/holding him the way he’s never been in the receiving end of before, because he’s always been taller than anyone who would possibly touch him like that, and finally he can experience some of that himself, and it makes him feel really loved and looked after. As he shares being the ‘bigger spoon’ type, the taller person’s tasks, the ‘boyfriend/man’s’ moves, or more dominant roles, in all sorts of physical touchy ways. Even you leaning up to grab something Eddie could grab himself (or maybe he can’t) makes him just a little giddy, and stirred up with warm butterflies inside!

And Eddie is literally above average height! He is not short, so for you to be taller than him?? Eddie is drooling. His heart’s fluttering. Instead of thinking about proving himself to you with his knowledge of intimate times, he’s also picturing you domming him. And you making him yours!

Eddie probably would make Morticia/Gomez references to you anyway at occasional points he thinks of it. But when you two watch Who Framed Roger Rabbit together, Eddie’s taking a look at Jessica Rabbit (remembering how he and all his friends used to have crushes on her), he rerealises the height difference, and comments on your similarities to her. You laugh and hit his arm at first, but Eddie says not only are you as beautiful, radiant, and glamorous as ms Jessica Rabbit, but the height is there, so of course you’re basically Jessica Rabbit. And, well, Eddie always makes it so you really can’t argue with his complements/logic. And he definitely references you as her in your future together now too.

Also in fics, everyone writes reader as shorter, like p much everyone, and as someone who is a girl that’s taller than Eddie, and the same height as Steve, can’t relate smh ✋. I just know they’d be all flustered and awestruck over the supermodel standing next to them. Esp when they see you again wearing shoes that make you even taller! They can’t help but look a little, like at your legs, and where your eyes, and lips, meet the parts of their face, and imagining where your hands, or lips, would fall on them if you moved closer and went for it, like they’re zoned out daydreaming about, staring at your lips, as you keep smiling and talking to them

[z-shalltear]

Returning the Favor (+18)

Shalls x Moth

older fic i dug out just to have another thing to post, i feel slightly embarrassed posting this but fuck it we ball

// idk what i should put here its straight up smut - shalls eating moth out idk + long post warning

moth from @14dayswithyou

🎀 🎀 🎀

Shalls sat cross-legged on his shared bed as he took in the sight of his spouse gaming away at their desk. He frowns, fiddling with the faded-pink ends of his hair as he spaces out, a lot on his mind. As much as he was more than happy with mutual parallel play, he was itching to talk to Moth. They were currently focused on the latest JRPG that had a Sorcerer's Academy collab.

To be fair, he had long since pulled the characters as soon as they came out knowing that the urge to collect them all was far too tempting. It didn’t help that Shalls had collected them all within 10 pulls, and Moth themselves were nearing the guaranteed pity SSR.

He weighed his options, shifting his legs as another idea prods at him. His face burned at the thought, but he fiddles with his gloves for a moment before tugging them off.

Flexing his aching hands he sets his tablet and pen aside on the nearby nightstand. He shuffles his way over to Moth, peering over their shoulder as he gauges their current situation. His partner was currently customizing their land, one that looked suspiciously alot like Haruko’s home in the recent seasons. Taking a moment to silently hype himself up, he gently pulls the swivel chair back to give himself more space.

It catches Moth by surprise, who lowers their headset down to their shoulders.

“ Woah- What’s up, Love-bug?” They question, looking up and over their shoulder at Shalls. He meets his spouse’s gaze, before remembering what he was there to do and nervously averting his eyes.

He kneels beneath their desk, Moth about to question the action further before it clicks as Shalls places a hand onto their thigh.

“I know you're busy but… I was wonderin’ if I can… r-return the favor for last time.” Shalls face burns as he tries to dance around the topic while making his intentions clear.

Moth grins, reaching to run a hand through Shalls’ hair who quickly leans into the touch. “What favor?” They teased, brushing away the messy hair that usually covered Shalls’ eyes to reveal his flushed expression.

“You!-” Shalls begins to protest, groaning as he pressed his cheek against the hand placed on Moth’s thigh.

“Let me eat you out” He quickly mumbles, gently squeezing their thigh with his free hand. He pressed his knees together as he sat kneeled in front of them. He hated how much loved the way Moth would look at them in this position. A hand holding back his hair, giving him an excited look with a glint of underlying lust.

“What was that?” A smug, and amused grin spreads on Moth's face as they too gain a faint blush. Their hand shifts to Shalls cheek, drawing circles on his flushed skin.

“You’ll need to speak up, Lovebug. You've been doing so well recently about that, y'know.” Moth light-heartedly teased.

Shalls chews on his lip, carefully gripping their thigh.

“Please?” He carefully asks.

“-Please what?” Moth was quick to quip back. “Please let me eat you out, Moth” Shalls face burns, unable to look at Moth.

Moth grins. “Still alright?” They gently check in, voice soft as they make sure they weren’t going too far with the teasing. “Mm-hm” Shalls nods in return, shifting in his place.

Accepting the response, Moth hummed approvingly, shifting in their chair to tug down their jeans and underwear.

Shalls gently positioned Moth to sit at the edge of their chair, spreading their legs as he took in the sight of their sex. He pauses for a moment before diving in. Arms wrapped around their thighs to hold them in place as he experimentally swipes his tongue along their clit before settling on sucking and drawing circles onto it. He tries to ignore the lewd sounds of his slurping in favor of listening to Moth's gasps and moans.

“Shit-” Moth breathes, holding onto Shalls’ hair. “You really jumped right in, didn't you? Were you that desperate for me?” They gently teased, groaning as Shalls hums against them. They adjust their grip on his hair, carefully tightening their grip to angle Shalls in just the right places. Shalls whined softly as his hair is tugged, moaning against Moth's sex as he tries to push his face even closer.

Readjusting his hold on Moth he moves lower to prod their hole with his tongue. Moth moans in return, hips bucking against Shalls’ mouth. He moans contently in return, hand reaching up to play with their clit. The cold of his hand makes Moth jump as a burning pleasure kept building in their lower abdomen. Shalls continued his clumsily addicting movement. It was near overwhelming to Moth, who continued to groan and buck against his boyfriend’s hand and mouth.

“Right there-” Moth groans, “If I knew you were going to be this good I would’ve asked ages ago.” Their breath became more labored as the look in their eyes turned closer to a hazy lust.

Spurred on by the praise, Shalls ignored the growing ache in their jaw to continue exploring Moth’s insides with his tongue. His thumb circles their clit, the added pleasure making Moth practically see stars. It wasn’t too long before Moth’s grip on Shalls’ hair tightened as they came against his eagerly awaiting mouth.

Shalls continued to slurp against their sex, collecting as much as he could before pulling away. He quietly panted, shamelessly bringing his hand up to his mouth to suck off any of the cum spilled onto it. He licked his lips, the taste of Moth’s cum contently lingering in his mouth. He finally looked up at Moth who looked down at him with an amused expression.

“Kiss?” Shalls asks, tapping his lips. It gives Moth a surprised laugh.

“You quite literally just gave me the best head I’ve ever had and you still find the need to ask for a kiss?” Moth chuckles.

“Is that a yes or no?” Shalls stands on his knees, shuffling closer to wrap his arms around their waist. He strategically places his chin to rest on their chest.

“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot. C’mere.” Shalls brightens as Moth leans down to press a kiss against his lips.

[batworks]

Sometimes I feel like a bug. and not like a bug that you would squash and walk away. a bug that you would scoop up in a cup and let outside, but never keep. People don’t want me inside. people don’t want me. They don’t want me to never have my own inside, they only want me outside. and nobody will ever want me inside. I am a bug.

[bug-bites]

west side apartment, paper plane

tw: brief non-graphic mentions of ghost going thru war stuff and ghost's backstory in the comics (changed a few details because this is fanfic. duh), slight angst (bc yk,, yearning) but sort of fluff if ghost had a dollar for every moment he spent yearning he would have enough money to retire and live a happy life away from the military, also we're pretending british chinese takeout is good, not proofread :P

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader (like always can be read as platonic or romantic)

characters: simon "ghost" riley

a/n: i hate how fucking massive the song link is but yk what its fine. but i am back and in a laufey moment!

simon has lived an interesting life, maybe he wouldn’t use interesting. if he could describe it he would probably use words like terrifying, cruel, or for a lack of better terms, shitty. from the moment he was born it seemed like misery and tragedy followed him around like a stray dog, finding its way into every aspect of his existence. his childhood home was always something he wanted to escape, or rather his father was what he wanted to run away from. there were good moments after he kicked the old bastard out, but the ever present threat of tragedy proved that it wouldn’t last. life had been cruel, dealing him possibly the worst hand possible, the only constant being misfortune, that is until you came along.

a temporary living arrangement. thats all it was. rent was a little too much for one person to afford, so you both signed the lease on a crummy, small, mixed-use apartment right in the middle of manchester. it wasn’t much, takeout dinners from the restaurant below and late rent payments were the norm but even with the busted heating, life in that apartment had never felt so warm.

after long shifts at your respective jobs he would come home, plastic bags of takeout in his hands, a sign for you to set a few blankets on the ground before both of you eat ungodly amounts of shrimp fried rice and orange sesame chicken. he could spend hours listening to you speak, nothing made him feel so at home. maybe it was the fact that the food was good and also inexpensive, or maybe it was because he was too exhausted to do anything else, but he loved those long sleepless nights spent sitting on the floor, talking about everything and nothing. simon cant imagine another time in his life when he was genuinely so happy or another time he laughed so hard water came out his nose.

he especially loved opening fortune cookies with you at the end of every meal. sure, he never believed in those fortunes but the idea was always fun to entertain. the sound of the cookie cracking open to expose the slip of paper, revealing what the future had in store for him usually filled him with a childlike curiosity. or at least got a laugh out of him.

“hah, mine says ‘there will be a happy romance for you shortly’. these things really could not be farther from the truth. bet yours is more accurate” you say, popping half of the broken cookie into your mouth “your father loves you and is always with you. remember that.” he reads out loud with a chuckle “oh. that- hm. yeah i take that back”

but the one thing he loved more than opening those silly fortunes with you or the late night dinners was after you both cleaned up the empty takeout boxes, taking the menus and folding them into paper planes. it became a sort of tradition after you got bored and began to mess around with the glossy paper that listed mouthwatering dishes and house specials. he could never get it right, one wing was always too big or his folds were clumsily made and uneven, making them practically incapable of flight but yours were the complete opposite. each crease made was perfect, every intricate pleat skillfully crafted to allow the small paper aircraft to glide through the air with ease. as you tossed your planes off the balcony of your shared flat, the sight of the plane sailing through the air as the sun set always filled the both of you with a sense of nostalgia. and of course you both picked them up and tossed them out because we dont mess w/ littering over here

simon cant help but look back at those simpler times and miss them. he knows from the start it was intended to be temporary, but he’s been through so much chaos and trauma all he just wants a quiet life where he doesnt have to be ghost. he just wants a nice warm home to come back to. it doesnt have to be big, it doesnt have to be expensive, it just has to feel like home. it just has to feel like you. its been so long since the two of you parted ways but as he stares at the last paper airplane that he kept, he cant help but wonder if you feel that way too. as he lies awake in his bed at the military base he’s stationed in, he spends those nights craving that domesticity he had with you. he recalls every memory, every minute detail that made him love that cramped apartment and maybe how he loved you even more.

[eiightysixbaby]

LEAH may I humbly request Eddie and best friend!Reader play wrestling and Reader pins him to the ground and boom ✨making out✨?

xoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

my requests are ALWAYS open for you, bug.

“I just don’t know where Carver gets off being such a dick to everyone,” Eddie scoffs. “I’d love to teach him a lesson, kick his stupid teeth in.”

You giggle. It’s not really a laughing matter, but you giggle.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow, giving you a sideways glance as he unlocks the door to the trailer. “What’s so funny, sweetheart?”

He toes off his sneakers in the entryway, awaiting your answer as you take your time untying your own, trying to avoid the answer.

“Listen, you know you’re my best friend, right? Okay?” you start, peaking Eddie’s curiosity even more. “I’m not saying you couldn’t kick Carver’s ass, but…. I don’t know! I just don’t view you as particularly ‘tough’,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you walk over to the couch.

Eddie just looks at you, eyebrows hidden under his bangs as he lifts them.

“Don’t get offended! You just… you’re always so gentle around me,” you quickly add, attempting to soften the blow to his ego.

“Oh no, sweetheart, I think you’ve made it verryyyy clear that I can’t throw a punch,” Eddie replies, holding his hands up. “I get it, really,” he sighs dramatically, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Don’t start,” you laugh, pointing a finger at him.

“I suppose you could take me then? You could kick my ass?” he goes on, gesturing towards himself with one hand.

“I could absolutely take you in a fight. You wouldn’t dare throw a punch at me,” you say matter-of-factly, and of course you’re correct.

“Okay, sure. You could take me,” he says, too compliant to be believable. He slowly steps towards the couch, drawing out his movements. You eye him suspiciously as he sits down on the opposite end of the furniture. “But could you fight back against… the tickle monster?”

And in one swift movement, before you can even comprehend, he’s right beside you, hands reaching for your sides as his fingers hit your most ticklish spot.

“No! Eddie!!” you squeal, laughing against your own will, body coiling into itself as he relentlessly attacks you.

You feel like you can’t catch your breath, laughter roaring through you as tears spring to your eyes. He’s stronger than you, keeping you curled beneath him, fingers digging into your sides. He laughs along with you, and the sound infiltrates your ears, making your heart strum a tune. If your stomach wasn’t hurting from laughter, you wouldn’t want him to stop. Wouldn’t want him to get any farther away.

There’s a brief moment where he eases up, if you’d blinked you’d have missed it, but luckily you didn’t. You see your opportunity, shoving him off of you with your hands, making a break for it as you pounce off of the sofa.

He’s quicker, though, recovering from your shove and lunging after you, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.

“You dare think you can outsmart me!?” he roars, putting on his best monster voice.

You kick and flail, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt as you pound on his back to let you go. If you think too long about the way he’s holding onto you you’re sure to melt. He walks you into his bedroom, throwing you down on his fluffy mattress before completely pinning you there, triumphant.

“You’re not trying very hard, sweet girl,” he teases, smirking at the way you struggle to free your wrists from his grip.

“Shut up,” you mumble, scrunching up your face when Eddie’s hair tickles your nose.

You wrestle out of his grasp finally, thrashing around in an attempt to move him from where he hovers above you. You manage to topple him over, newfound strength taking over as you pin him down, pressing his shoulders against the mattress. You sling a leg over his lap, straddling him and keeping him in place.

He’s wide-eyed at your sudden burst of ferocity, mouth parted just slightly as he catches his breath.

“See? Told you I could kick your ass,” you say, smug and confident.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you — those big eyes staring through to your soul. Your breath catches in your throat, then, becoming all too aware of the position that you’re in. It feels like you sit there staring at each other for eons, listening to the clock tick from his bedside table.

Then, he moves his hands. Slowly, tentatively, letting them rest on your hips. Holding you where you are, not wanting you to move.

“Eddie—” you start, your voice failing you, coming out incredibly breathy.

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, getting the words out quickly, as if they were begging to be let loose.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He’s pulling your face down, then, and you follow his guidance. Your lips collide against his, his tongue immediately parting them for entrance. There’s no room to be timid, not with the way he kisses you like it’s his dying wish. Your heart pounds in your chest, because you’re kissing your best friend. Does he know how badly you’ve wanted this? Has he felt the same this entire time?

Clearly he has, with the way he whimpers into you when your tongue starts to explore his mouth. His hands don’t let go of your cheeks, big palms encompassing your soft skin, thumbs rubbing softly against your cheekbones. And suddenly you feel like you can’t be close enough to him, like your chest being pressed to his and your tongues in each others’ throats simply isn’t enough and you need to crawl inside of his skin and reside there.

You pull away all too soon, just slightly, reluctantly. He still holds your face, wanting to pull you right back to him, his eyes searching yours. So impossibly beautiful.

“You keep kissing me like that, and I won’t tell a soul that I totally just kicked your ass,” you tease, making him snort, his kiss-bitten lips mere millimeters from your own.

Another firm kiss to your mouth, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip until a breathy moan releases from you. “Okay, deal.”

[lovebugism]

mean eddie x reader!

come join the sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Eddie wasn’t mean to you. Not exactly. 

He was just an idiot who didn’t know how else to flirt with you.

It’s sort of like that dumb stereotype parents use when their kids are little and their daughter comes crying about a boy pulling at her pigtails. The whole “he’s just hitting you because he likes you” bullshit. Eddie isn’t quite like that because he isn’t a total asshole. He just finds it easier to tease you than to tell you how he really feels.

“Ooh, is that a new shirt?” he lilts like it isn’t at all embarrassing that he knows when you’re wearing something different. “Def Leppard merch, huh? Just say you’re trying to impress me, sweetheart. It’d be a lot less obvious.”

You roll your eyes at him, less than fazed at his relentless taunting. 

He stands uninvited beside you as you stack books into your locker. Once your hands are free, you tug at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so you’re left in nothing but the plain turtle neck you’re wearing underneath.

“Not so obvious now, am I?” you quip as you shove the crumbled up tee into your locker.

And rather than tell you that he actually liked the shirt or that you looked pretty in it (which is why he’d opened his mouth at all), he buries himself deeper into this hole and keeps on teasing. 

“And you’re giving me a free show? Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. Just tell me you like me before you get any more embarrassing.”

It’s always some iteration of that. 

You take him by surprise at how pretty you are — how funny or how kind — and, as though in retaliation, Eddie knocks you off your feet. He makes a joke about all the things he likes about you and tries to convince himself that he doesn’t really like them at all.

One morning, he finds you standing in the bustling hallways of Hawkins High. Your locker is open but abandoned beside you because your nose is stuck in some too big novel. You’re undoubtedly trying to cram a few chapters before the bell rings. 

And, since he’s so perfect at it, Eddie Munson decides to ruin your plans.

He abandons the Hellfire group at the other end of the corridor and b-lines over to you. None of the boys mind. They’re used to it by now. Typically, when they look over and notice their president’s disappeared out of nowhere, they find him with you.

He digs a cold fingertip into the junction of your neck and shoulder to get your attention. It startles you, makes you tense while you swat him away with one hand. You’re still too concentrated to pay him any actual attention.

“Go away, Eddie,” you gripe with your back still facing him. “It’s too early for this.”

He wants to ask how you even know it’s him, but the answer is obvious. No one else in school, or even in all of Hawkins, is quite as relentless in this way as he is. 

“What it’s too early for, sweetheart, is to be reading a book like this,” Eddie quips as he reaches around you to snatch the book out of your hand.

You should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, but your reflexes come a moment too late. Before you can jerk the novel away from Eddie, he’s already stolen it.

The boy grins. “A little slow this morning, I see.”

“Bite me,” you monotone as you finally spin around to face him.

“Say please, and I’ll think about it,” he answers without thinking twice. He shuts the book but leaves his finger wedged between the pages you were reading. His chocolate eyes scan the vibrant cover. “What is this anyway?”

“Crime and Punishment.”

“Never seen you read it before…”

“I got it yesterday at the library.”

“You got it yesterday, and you’re already halfway through?”

You shrug. “It’s a good book.”

This is the other part of your relationship. Underneath the petty banter and the relentless teasing, there are moments like these — innocent conversations without all the extra bullshit. Neither of you would admit to it, of course, but it’s almost like you’re actually friends.

“It’s huge,” Eddie emphasizes while he waves the book up and down, as though testing its weight. “It’s practically breaking my wrist, sweetheart.”

“If you don’t read, just say that,” you squint playfully over at him. Your hand reaches for the book again, but he dodges you and hides the thing behind his back.

“You’re right. I should probably read more,” the boy confesses with a scrunched nose. “Why don’t we go to the library after school, and you can show me where they hide the good stuff?”

Your brows raise. “You want to go to the library?”

With me, is how you really want to finish that inquiry, but you force yourself to stop short.

Eddie shrugs. “I’d ask you to go somewhere more exciting, but I feel like the library is more your speed. Quiet, dull, boring.”

“Well, if I’m so boring, why do you want to go anywhere with me?” you counter.

For perhaps the first time ever, Eddie’s stumped. 

He doesn’t have a quick comeback or a joke to downplay the situation he’s all tangled up in. And, for a brief moment, he almost caves. He’s a second shy from telling you that he doesn’t know how else to ask you out. But when his senses finally return to him, he covers up any sincerity with more sarcasm.

“I don’t know,” he lilts with a tone that suggests he actually isn’t all that sure. He bounces his shoulders with his pink lips jutted softly out. “I just figured maybe if someone actually showed you how to have fun, you might learn better. I’ll even let you jot down a few notes in your pretty pink notebook.”

You take a daring step closer to him. 

You’re still several inches away, but the sudden shortening of proximity makes Eddie’s breath hitch. The loss of having the upper hand is foreign to him. You come a centimeter closer than usual, and he’s crumbling like a piece of paper. It’s so not metal of him.

“Say it,” you squint up at him.

“…Say what?” he wonders with furrowed brows, genuinely confused.

“That you, Eddie Munson, want to take me on a date.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the boy laughs to cover up his flushed cheeks. “I never said anything about a date, sweetheart. Maybe that’s what you heard — because, you know, you’re obsessedwith me — but… I never said that.”

“Right,” you hum in response, obviously not believing him. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, sweetheart.”

“I want you—” you demand, pushing a finger at the center of his chest. “—to say something real… Then maybe I’ll consider going out with you.”

Eddie blinks down at you for a moment, considering the offer. 

It would be easy for him to call your bluff, to push you like he always does until you inevitably cave. But maybe you’re not joking. Maybe another round of stupid teasing would squash the opportunity. Or perhaps, he could finally be forthright with you and have to suffer your subsequent laughter.

He decides, ultimately, to be honest. 

He takes his own step closer to you, further closing the already minute distance. When he leans his free hand on the lockers at his side, it feels much more like he’s looming over you.

“Corroded Coffin’s playing a show at the Hideout tomorrow,” he tells you lowly. “I have to close and everything because, you know, I work there — but that means I get all the beer and leftover greasy food that I want. If you wanna come and stay after, I’ll think about sharing with you.”

You try your best not to grin. But when his rosy lips contort into a shy smile and he tilts his ear down toward his shoulder, you’re beaming sunshine up at him.

“See? Was that so hard?” you tease.

“What do ya say, sweetheart?” Eddie presses, a lot more obvious with his want for you than he’s ever been before.

“It’s a date,” you assure, trying your best to conceal your smile. 

You catch Eddie’s spare hand hanging at his side, your book finally free for the taking. He’s too distracted, caring less and less about the stupid thing, because he can’t take his eyes off you. It makes it exponentially easier to snatch it back from him.

“Ooh. You’re slow today,” you joke with a pretty smile. 

You walk back from him as the shrill morning bell rings overhead. 

Eddie watches, still partially stunned, as you drag a textbook and a journal from your locker before slamming it shut again. You head to your first-period class and call to him over your shoulder.

“Don’t go getting soft on me, Eddie Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promises. 

He’s lying, though, and both of you know it.

Eddie’s been soft on you since the day you met.

[stevie-petey]

Hear me out, Steve trying to win over mama Henderson. A blurb of Steve being a major kiss ass in every way possible. He earns quite a few brownie points and learns way too much neighborhood gossip. Just imagine bug coming home to Steve and her mom gossiping on the couch tews in his lap.

steve: i must make everyone like me

hes so real for that

enjoy !

"so, how do we really feel about jonathan?" steve has tews in his lap, so hes careful not to startle the young kitten as he leans in close to mrs henderson to whisper about the boy who has a bean bag dedicated to him in her daughters room.

claudia rests a hand against her chest and sighs deeply. she looks around, as if scared someone will overhear, before she leans over to whisper. "can i be honest?"

"always, mrs. henderson."

"i adore that boy. why, i even had a whole wedding planned for him and my y/n, but... well, youre just so handsome!"

steve gasps and places a hand over his chest as well, deeply happy with how this conversation is turning out. "mrs. henderson, youre a beautiful woman with wonderful children. this, well, its an honor that you think so highly of me."

claudia giggles, and steve winks at her. it's quiet for a few seconds as the two of them enjoy the smile on their faces. tews is purring steves lap and youre not home yet from picking dustin up from jonathans. he hadnt meant to be alone with your mom, claudia insisted he come in when he arrived and shoved a kitten into his arms and now hes here.

gossiping about jonathan byers as claudia henderson gushes over steve.

tews lets out a yawn and stretches lazily on top of steves lap. claudia watches fondly and coos at her cat. "i havent seen tews this comfortable around a stranger!"

"animals like me," steve shrugs. "plus, i think shes just happy i cleaned her litter box."

"i told you that there wasnt any need-"

"i wanted to help, mrs. henderson." steve reassures her for the millionth time. in this instance, he can see how much you resemble your mother. both of you too kind to ask for help.

claudia tauts at steve and shakes her head. she knows what hes doing, she saw jonathan do it for the five years he spent his childhood within her home.

claudia henderson knows what a boy looks like when hes in love with her daughter.

steve goes back to gently petting tews' head and claudia sighs. she knows she shouldnt intervene, but youre her baby girl and steve seems like such a wonderful boy.

the mother smiles softly at the teen sitting across from her. "jonathan is a lovely boy, ive watched him grow up and bring my y/n back to life after everything that happened when she was young, but i havent seen my daughter glow quite as much as she does when shes around you."

claudias eyes never stray from steve. he doesnt look up at her, but she knows hes heard what shes said by the way his breath catches, ever so slightly. she doesnt want to push him, but she can sense that hes a hurt boy who has been drawn in by your endless kindness. taking a breath, she says, "im happy my daughter has you, steve."

steves breath catches again and he coughs, trying to clear his throat of the shock he feels at your mothers words. in his startle, tews jumps out of his lap and returns to claudia, sending him a disgruntled glare as she settles herself into the womans lap.

"yeah, well." steve coughs again, eyes looking everywhere but at claudia. "im happy i have y/n, too."

claudia claps her hands, satisfied with his response. "good! now, dusty tells me your family is rich?"

a loud and unexpected laugh escapes steves mouth and his head spins at his bizarre the situation is. claudia snickers, pleased with herself, and steve once again sees so much of you in the woman. "dusty would be correct."

"even better!"

neither are sure how much time passes, but eventually their conversation transitions from a weird heart to heart to gossip about the neighborhood. before you arrive home, steve learns about the creepy neighbor down the street named dave, about the couple next door who just had a baby named penelope, and about the dog a few blocks down that once chased you when you were younger.

"the dog chased her halfway across hawkins! i swear, its why that girl now likes that insane hobby of hers." claudia huffs, stroking tews' head once more.

"she likes to run?" steve asks, amazed that he still has so much to learn about you.

"who likes to run?" you ask, stepping through the front door with dustin behind you. when you see steve sitting on your couch across from your mother, your shoulders drop. "oh, no. is my mom telling you more embarrassing stories about me?"

dustins shoulder knocks against yours as he walks inside. "did my mom tell you about the time y/n peed the bed last year?"

steves eyes widen and you jump on top of your brother, strangling him. "shut up!"

you wack at your brothers head and manage to bring him to his knees as you wrestle on the ground. dustin screeches and tries to claw you off of him, but youre still slightly bigger (though he keeps growing more and more every day). its a tangle of limbs and screams.

claudia and steve watch from the couch, both of them smiling fondly at the sight of the two siblings strangling one another.

"precious kids, mrs. henderson." the teen winks again at claudia, and she laughs.

[gurbs-blurbs]

Hey hey its your local @narcissistcookbook and @bughuntermusic shoe painter today we got castle of rats

And yes (or no)

Thank you guys for such an amazing tour that also served as an excuse to hang with some of the coolest people (including both of you guys!! Also papabug!! Lots of love <3)

I'm really hoping to come again next year make some new friends along the way too!

[robotpanties]

i might be able to write down my thoughts later but also i want a drawing to accompany it and i might not draw tonight, so you might get that soon? i have a speech abt siphonophores to write this evening so sorry