#el's blurbs

[karaslittlesunshine]

Oo…maybe mommy Wanda little reader cuddling while it’s raining?

Wanda felt a warm body suddenly nuzzling into her,

“Hey little one, is it snuggle time, is it?” you nodded as she pulled you into her lap, your legs straddling her as you laid your head on her chest.

Wanda’s soothing hand ran up and down your back as you suckled gently on your paci.

“’s raining ‘ots mama”, Wanda hummed in agreement,

“It is, bug, but that means all the plants are going to be nice and fed. Maybe there’ll even be a rainbow!”

“Don wan ‘ook for rainbows, jus wan stay wif mommy” you said, pushing yourself further into her.

Wanda brought her hand up to your hair, “you can stay with me all you like, y/n. We can snuggle and listen to the rain all you want”. She gently combed her fingers through your messy hair and began to sing a lullaby softly, using her magic to dim the lights further as she felt your breathing even out.

[babydollmarauders]

SECOND TRIMESTER — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem reader

part of the el!hughes au

summary: when y/n (Lovie) is having trouble sleeping and her pregnancy hormones are at their peak, Jack convinces her she won’t make his injury worse by riding him.

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), pregnancy sex, slight degradation, praise. (2k words)

notes: everyone’s been asking for a Jack and Lovie smut, so i thought when better to do the first one than when Lovie is feeling extra needy?

my husband and i lay on opposite sides of our mattress.

i’m curled up on my side, one leg curled up towards my stomach and laid on a pillow, facing my husband but at least two feet apart from him. meanwhile, he sprawls lazily on his back, scrolling on his phone.

i peek an eye open to look at him, stretching out my arm and placing my hand on his naked torso.

Jack glances over at me in thinly veiled amusement, an expression of disbelief curtaining his face.

“so, when i try to cuddle you, you push me away and tell me to stay on my side of the bed, but now you wanna touch me?” he gapes, glancing down at my hand that’s plastered onto his abs.

“precisely.” i state, my voice groggy and words drawled, “we touch on my terms, and right now, i can’t sleep and i need to feel you.”

“but i can’t cuddle you?” his full bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.

“no. you’re like a furnace and your spawn has made me into one too.”

“my spawn.” he echoes my words with amusement, “is that what we’re calling our baby now?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation, readjusting my leg on its pillow and wiggling my body. “i forgot how hard it is to sleep while pregnant.”

Jack locks his phone, discarding it onto his nightstand.

“is there anything i can do to help you sleep?” i mull over his offer, carefully considering each option that my mind thinks up.

there’s only one that really interests me, but as soon as my eyes land on his injured shoulder, i shake my head.

“no.” i finally tell him, but he cocks a brow at my hesitation.

“you sure?” he questions, “because based on the look on your face, i’d say you thought of one.”

i eye his shoulder again, thinking it over once more; but this time, his eyes follow my line of sight before he sighs.

“you’re not gonna break me, lovie.” he ushers me forward until i’m curled up into him, my medium sized bump pressed against his side. “i’m fine and i’ll continue to be fine even if we cuddle.”

cuddle.

he thinks i’m afraid of cuddling him.

he thinks cuddling is what will help me fall asleep.

“that’s not what i want.” i murmur, barely above a whisper.

“huh?” his fingers dance lightly up and down my back, sending goosebumps throughout my skin.

“i didn’t wanna cuddle.”

“then what is it you need, lovie?” he asks in a hushed tone, his baby blues gazing into mine as i look up at him.

i press my lips to his chest, mumbling out my next words, “i wanna ride you.”

“i can’t hear you, baby.” my eyes flutter closed, a silent sigh leaving my lips when i realize i’ll have to repeat my statement.

“i wanna ride you.” i repeat, slightly louder this time.

Jack’s hand freezes on my back, eyes widening just slightly before they go back to normal.

“forget it, i’ll go make some warm milk or something.” i huff, making a move to roll away from him, but his hand wraps around my forearm, effectively stopping me from getting far.

“c’mere.” he orders, darkness clouding his eyes as his pupils blow out.

his chest puffs a little when i do as he says, crawling back over to him and sitting on my knees beside him. i look down at him, hair falling to curtain my face.

“you wanna ride me, baby?” one corner of his lips quirk up in a smirk, “you wanna sink that pussy down on my cock and get yourself off?”

my breathing is becoming labored, my thighs clenching at his dirty talk, and he immediately takes notice.

“you do.” he confirms, “you wanna wear yourself out and make a mess on my cock.”

a whimper draws up from the back of my throat, nodding my head hastily.

“go ahead, lovie.” he urges, pushing the comforter down and kicking it off his lower body.

he’s half hard already, his bulge beginning to strain against his gray sweatpants. my body reacts to the sight instantly, my dampening core becoming a puddle.

but before i can jump on my husband, i hesitate, looking back down at his injury.

“are you sure?” my voice is small and meek, unsure in my actions, but when i look into his eyes, i find them darkened with lust, pupils blown.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, throwing his head back on his pillow. “yes, i’m sure. now please, just ride me.”

he doesn’t have to tell me again, i make quick work of stripping off my oversized t-shirt, laying on my back and hooking my thumbs through my panties before trying to yank them down. but my bump prevents me from getting very far in this position.

“Jack.” i whisper, a little embarrassed by the predicament.

“yeah, lovie?” i can hear the amusement in his tone, making me roll my eyes.

“can you help me?” his face pops up in front of my own as he sits up, leaning over my body.

“i’ve got you, my love.” he takes over for me, hooking his index fingers in the sides of my panties and pulling them down my thighs.

“thank you.” i tell him as he throws the now dampened panties in a vague direction towards our hamper. “now lay down.”

he chuckles at my attempt of demanding, laying back down anyways.

i roll back over and get back on my hands and knees, crawling over my husbands body and hovering over his thighs.

“hi, beautiful.” he smirks, letting his fingers trail up my sides, but his hips jerk when my own hand comes down to palm him through his sweatpants. “fuck.”

i bite my lip, tugging at the hem of his pants until they finally come down just enough for his erection to spring out. i lick my lips at the sight, any other time, i would gladly take the moment to get my lips on him, but right now? i need him in other places.

i crawl higher up his body until my face is hovering over his, lowering myself just enough to capture his lips with mine.

a soft moan pours from my lips to his, my hips lowering to grind upon his hardened cock. his hips buck up, his hand now tangling in my hair as he pulls me in deeper. his tongue grazes my lips, urging me to open up to him, and i do so eagerly, letting his tongue into my mouth to battle with mine.

“Jacky.” i whimper against him, grinding myself down onto him again.

“sit on my cock, lovie.” he gruffs, and it’s just the push i need in order to grasp his length in my hand, lining him up with my entrance before i finally sink down onto him.

my head tips back, a moan escaping my parted lips, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.

“gotta be quiet.” he states, voice strained as my walls envelop his cock. “Luke and El are sleeping right down the hall. you don’t wanna wake them, do you?”

i eagerly shake my head, enticing him to let his hand drift away from my mouth and down to my full breast. he squeezes roughly, pinching at my nipple and pulling it.

my hips grind against his, my clit dragging along his pelvic bone, but i bite my lip to hold back my sounds.

“good girl.” he praises, causing a full body shiver to encase me.

i lift myself, beginning to bounce on his dick, and the squelches of him rubbing through my wetness spur me on, lowering myself closer to his chest in order to hit a better angle.

the tip of his cock hits my g-spot and my eyes roll back, my jaw going slack as i drag my hips up and then back down.

“you’re doing so good for me, lovie.” he whispers, leaning up to let his lips graze the shell of my ear. “this is what you needed, isn’t it? to fuck yourself on my cock like a good whore? get yourself all tired out?”

i whimper behind pursed lips, nodding my head, “yes, Jack. fuck.”

he leans back down, his head back on the pillow as his fingers grip at my ass. a strangled noise escapes his throat, his cock twitching inside of me as i swivel my hips.

“just like that.” he breathes, his hips beginning to buck up in order to meet mine.

my breathing is heavy, my hands forming fists on Jack’s chest as i begin to feel that familiar pressure settle in my stomach.

“oh my god.” my words are panted out, my legs starting to ache, but i push myself to finish.

“not god, baby. just me.”

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a squeak leaving me as my hips begin to stutter, the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter with each meeting of our skin.

“Jack, i’m gonna-” i can barely finish my sentence, being cut off with a whine as his thumb finds my clit, beginning to rub circles into it.

“cum for me.” he orders, rubbing faster with each passing second, “make a mess on my cock so you can sleep.”

my walls squeeze him tighter, my legs shaking and my breath catching in my throat as my orgasm hits me. my hips halt in their movements, but Jack’s don’t stop, rather fucking up into me to ride me through my release.

until finally, he falters, his rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm, his hot cum spilling into me in ropes.

his hand cups the back of my head, pulling me down so his lips meet mine, and i let him moan against them.

our bodies press against each other, as we lay there basking in the afterglow of sex, my eyelids fluttering open and shut, my body on the precipice of sleep.

“did it work?” he asks me, a gentle hand running up and down my back.

“mhm.” i hum, “are you okay?”

he sighs as i peer at him through my lashes, scanning his face for any sign of pain.

“lovie, i’m fine. stop worrying about me.” i pout at his response, nodding my head and laying it down on his chest.

“so what made you want this?” he questions, “the last couple months if i even try to insinuate sex, you look like you wanna beat me with El’s blocks.”

i press my lips to his chest, stifling a laugh.

“damn second trimester hormones.” i huff, “i’m so horny all the time right now.”

the corner of Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk, “i think i love the second trimester.”

“shut up.” i giggle, rolling my eyes as i finally lift myself off of him, getting off the bed.

i leave my husband behind in order to use the bathroom and change back into my t-shirt and some new panties before i lay back down.

“okay, you can cuddle me.” i decide right after a hefty yawn.

“too late.” he says, an exaggerated pout playing at his lips. “i don’t wanna cuddle anymore.”

“too bad. i’m your wife and i want cuddles now so i get cuddles, because i’m carrying your child.”

Jack feigns an exasperated sigh, pulling me in so my back lays against his chest, his hand resting on my bump. he peppers light kisses up my shoulder and the side of my neck.

“i guess.” i can hear the smile in his tone, making me giggle.

“there is no guess. you love me.” i state, my hand coming down to lay on top of his.

“yeah, i love you.” he playfully concedes, pressing one last chaste kiss to my neck. “so much.”

“i love you too.”

sleep pulls at my consciousness, my eyes falling closed as i let out one final yawn, and just before i fall asleep, i can register the feeling of Jack’s hand soothingly rubbing my bump.

[silkscream]

aftercare with eddie + cigarettes just because

“still with me, babe?”

you blink up at your lover with a daze. eddie munson is all frizzy hair, milky limbs, cheeks heated up as he crawls over to you. he plants a sweet kiss onto your mouth before you can register your own body. 

“i think you just killed me,” you rasp, breathless.

he chuckles while you pout, then caresses your face. but you really mean it -- he’s struck you with lightning, turned you inside out, fucked you into the afterlife, though any word of that out of your mouth would probably have him doubling over. you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“pretty sure you’re still here,” he preens, kissing your knee before reaching his arm over your body for his pack of newports and the lighter on his desk. “plus, you know, uncle wayne would probably be real pissed if you were dead.”

“really?”

“god, yeah. he thinks you’re the reason i graduated.”

“i am the reason you graduated,” you scoff, climbing over to sit in eddie’s lap to steal the lit cigarette out of his mouth. your limbs are languid in their movements, the ecstasy from moments before still making your brain sluggish. 

eddie scans you, too busy watching the way you innocuously re-light the cig after scrunching your nose in slight frustration. he thinks he could capture you like this forever. how cute you are just existing in front him.

in moments that aren’t frenzied passion, particularly in domestic reprieves such as these, eddie comes back to earth because of you. your presence warms him, brings him that paradisiacal calm that he only ever feels with his loud music. you, though, you are the serenity beyond all of that noise for him.

“what’s up, buttercup?” you raise a brow.

“nothing. i just like you.” a little too much. he steals the cigarette back once again and traps you beneath his arms, mouth littering kisses from your chest to your jaw in rapid succession until you squirm in a fit of giggles.

“mm,” you hum. “you’re not so bad yourself, munson.”

[nikaizkool]

I am in need of quackity boyfriend headcannons

He cannot live without physical touch. You cannot deprive this man of his love language, he’ll just jump on you if you even dare. Hand holding, arm linking, kisses, cuddles, hugs, anything including him holding or touching you.

When your laying down he’ll just jump next to you and wrap his limbs around you pinning you down to the bed while his head rests on your chest.

He’ll literally never leave you alone, he’d follow you around 24/7, “babe, love, darling, dear, my sweet, hermosa, mi vida, mi corazón, sweetie, honey” he’ll be holding your hand trying to get you to pay attention to him 😔🙏

Streaming. He needs you to be with him when he’s doing a big stream so whenever he’s nervous he can hold you hands, make small talk with you, or just kiss or hug you.

[formulalfc]

jude coming home from training and before he does anything he's coming straight to you, wherever you are in the house. most of the time you're either at your desk trying to catch up on what feels like never ending work or in the kitchen finding something to snack on before you guys make dinner together. he's coming up behind you and engulfing you in his arms, rubbing his hands up and down your arms before moving his hand up your shirt and resting his hand on your stomach. he's pressing kisses to your neck until you turn around and then your just looking at each other and smiling, soaking each other in. your hands are cradling his face and you just know he's the kinda guy that would just melt if you were stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. in the moment its just so peaceful between you guys and neither of you want it to end.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[dungeonpuppykai]

definitely ties your hair in a ponytail to wrap around his hand when you suck his cock <3

continuation

[mqsi]

Pedri x reader imagine where she goes to watch his comeback game (el clásico) from his injury with his family in which he scored & dedicates to her. Just make it super fluffy & a little moment between him & his mom about how much she loves her for him & how he wants her to be his forever, even though they’re young he’s sure he found the one

This is kinda short but I think it’s cute. Btw the fact that even his comeback from injury here IS FICTION is making me cry. Pedri please be back soon🥲

——————————————————————————

Pedri’s whole family and you were excitingly sitting at the stands at Camp Nou, waiting for the game to start. This was more special then usual,since it was Pedri’s first game out of injury.

His mom invited you to go with them. You were kind of sceptical at first, nervous about being with Pedri’s family without him present, but you accepted the call. When you arrived at the stadium,you took a picture together, since you were all wearing Pedri’s number 8 on your back.

The game started, and you were so happy to see your boyfriend back on the field. As you were cheering, his mother spoke next to you.

“He is really happy with you, you know?” You smiled at her

“I’m lucky to hear that from his mother”

“He talks about you often, I’m glad to see someone lights a spark in him like football does” she continued.

At that moment Pedri scored a goal, doing his signature celebration. You screamed and hugged his mom when you saw Pedri pointing at your direction, making a heart. You blew him a kiss, his dad and brother imitating the two of you.

When the game ended, Pedri walked over to the stands, hugging his family before turning to you. You bent over the railing, brushing your fingers trough his sweaty hair.

“Good job cariño” you said before Pedri captured your lips, giving you a loving kiss.

He pulled away, looking at you with sparkly eyes

“Did you like the celebration?” he asked, biting his lip.

“How can you ask that?” You replied before his mother jumped in the conversation.

“When are you gonna marry her?” she said, clasping her hands together.

Pedri looked at his mom first than back to you.

“As soon as possible” he replied with a wink, leaving you all blushy.

He really is the one, you thought to yourself,smiling.

——————————————————————————

[muertawrites]

Bandanna anon back again, different thought this time. Ok so Eddie lives (obviously, why wouldn’t he?) but he has to go to the hospital where they shave his head in order to give him stitches and just Eddie with a buzz cut 😌 convincing Eddie you still love him without his hair 😊 Eddie growing it out and having these little ringlets that you fight him to not tease out 😍 Eddie’s hair growing back as a reminder of him healing 🥰

bandana anon i love youuuu *mluah* 😛

as a traumatized and healing bitch i love this. i 👏🏻 love 👏🏻 this 👏🏻

eddie x hopper!reader bc parallels 🥺

Your father is up before anyone else in the house, as always. You roll out of bed to find him at the kitchen table, reading the day's newspaper and nursing his second cup of coffee. Instead of saying good morning, he just grunts at you.

"How's he doing?" he asks as you help yourself to what's left in the pot.

It's an odd question, coming from him.

Jim Hopper had always hated the "him" he was referring to - the scruffy miscreant who he'd busted multiple times for vandalism, petty theft, public intoxication, possession...

He hated him even more when he found out his eldest child had fallen hard for him.

Even more when the way he found out was walking into your room one evening after he'd snuck in, finding the boy in a precarious position between your legs.

But since the earthquake, he'd softened. He saw the way Eddie looked at you, the way he risked his life to protect you, and suddenly a criminal history didn't matter as much.

He was troubled, sure. But he was good to you. He made you happy. And that was enough for Jim.

"He's okay," you reply. "Nightmares again last night. Couldn't sleep."

Your dad hums, sympathetic.

"Those'll stick around for a while."

As if on cue, the man in question emerges from your bedroom, looking as ragged and sleep deprived as he feels. He wears a gray beanie over his newly shaven head, hiding the ugly gash that lies beneath. He doesn't meet your eye, popping a cigarette into his mouth and slipping onto the back porch. You sigh.

"Still upset over his hair, huh?" Jim comments.

"Yeah," you confirm. "It, um... It reminds him of his dad, I think. How he used to make him shave it."

Your father is also familiar with the elder Munson, the crime that got him thrown into prison with a life sentence. More so with the abuse he used to inflict upon his son, since he was the one who answered many of those calls.

"Munson was a scumbag," Jim grumbles. "Hard to believe a kid as good as Eddie came from him."

You smile at the compliment, which your dad shares over the edge of his paper, pursing his lips together to try and hide it. Coffee in hand, you open the back door and join Eddie, sinking down beside him on the porch steps.

"Mornin', angel," he greets you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, keeping you warm against the spring chill. In the distance, what remains of downtown Hawkins smolders, sending ribbons of black smoke into the clear blue sky.

"How's your head doing today?" you ask.

He doesn't answer, opting instead to take a long drag of his cigarette.

"... You've gotta show me at some point."

Eddie huffs, flicking ash into the tray your father keeps on the back porch.

"You don't wanna see it," he mumbles. " 's pretty bad."

"So are the ones on your neck," you remind him. "But you let me kiss those."

He side eyes you, and you can tell he's trying to argue the sense you somehow manage to talk into him. You were the one who dragged him back through the portal when he tried to be a hero, after all.

"... You're not gonna like it," he finally admits. "I'm not... I'm not me anymore."

"You still eat Froot Loops for dinner," you contest. "That's pretty you."

He tries to fight the laugh that bubbles in his chest, the resulting smile warming your heart with just how genuine it is. You haven't seen him smile like that in far too long.

"I'm just worried you're not... You're like, serially into guys with long hair," he continues. "My hair was what got you to notice me in the first place. What if... What if you're not... What if I'm not attractive to you anymore?"

You sit up, taking his face in your hands; almost a little too aggressively, because he flinches the slightest bit in surprise.

"Eddie," you say. "Do you know what the sexiest thing about you is?"

He stares at you blankly.

"That stupid demon voice you do when you're playing a villain in a campaign," you tell him. "The over the top, snarly, borderline feral voice that comes out of you when you get really into it. It's ridiculous. And I'd be lying to you if I told you I didn't cum so hard the couple times it's come out during sex."

Eddie's eyes pop, mortified.

"I've used it during sex?"

You laugh, nodding as you lean forward to peck his lips.

"Yes. But my point is that you're goofy, and dramatic, and clever, and sweet, and so shamelessly you that this-" you pat the beanie covering his head "- doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you're safe. That you're still with me."

Eddie raises a hand to your cheek, gently running his thumb over the high point of the bone. He gazes lovingly, dreamily down at you, a bemused smile curling his lips.

"I don't deserve you," he murmurs.

"You deserve me more than anyone."

---

"Stop."

You lift the comb out of Eddie's hand, kissing him on the cheek as you do.

"They're cute. Leave them."

He tsks, snatching the comb back up when you set it on the bathroom counter, resuming the process of teasing out the ringlets his hair has started to grow into.

"It looks better longer," he growls, frustrated. "I hate my fuckin' hair."

"Can I have help?"

El appears in the doorway, holding her own set of styling tools. Her hair has also grown out quite a bit, now at the awkward length where it has to be styled every day or else look totally unpresentable. You gesture her inside, perching on the closed lid of the toilet as she sits on the floor in front of you, letting you work your older sibling magic. In a matter of minutes, her locks have been tamed; she bounds up to the mirror beside Eddie to inspect your work.

"It's coming back," she notices, looking up at him. "Your scar is almost gone."

He hums, running a contemplative finger over the raised, darkened bit of flesh peeking from his hairline. The scar runs all the way around his skull, down the back of his neck, but it's disappeared under the nest of dark brown curls that have grown in since his stint in the hospital.

He grins at her in the mirror, pointing to her wrist.

"So's yours," he notes, indicating her tattoo. "Ink's fading."

El smiles back, positively beaming. Her hand lifts to trace the bats etched above his elbow, a habit she's picked up in the months since Eddie moved in. She loves him like a brother. It makes your heart want to explode.

"I like your hair like this," she admits. "You look better than before. You're healing."

Eddie pauses, his face crumpling like he's about to start sobbing. You hide your smile behind your hand as he takes a deep breath, regaining his composure, then takes one of El's own curls between two fingers, pulling and releasing so it bounces like a spring. She giggles at him, playfully smacking his hand away.

"You're lookin' better too, short stack," he says. "Guess we're both gonna be okay."

[rubiehart]

getting caught in the act with robin by steve who is now scarred for life haha

lol this would deffo happen to them!!

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

deciding that you want to get away from the rest of the party for a little bit for some ‘alone time’ you sneak away together, thinking nobody noticed and slipping into your bedroom, giggling to each other as you lay on your frilly sheets and robin crawls on top of you, grabbing the sides of your face and connecting your lips passionately, tongues dancing together in the perfect rhythm. pulling away urgently and looking up at her with watery eyes, pupils blown out. “need you robin.” you’d whisper between a hiccup.

she’d nod and smirk “yeah? now?” and you nod shyly, reaching down to flip your skirt up to your hips so she can see the little wet spot that formed, biting her lip and looking back up at you, losing composure when she sees the look you’re giving her. “okay. we gotta be quick though okay?” she says finally, making you nod happily as she stands up and strips herself out of her jeans and top as do you, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor and clambering back onto the bed connecting your lips in a desperate needy kiss, spreading lipstick around each others mouths.

you began lifting your hips to create some friction between you and her, making you whine out at the contact into her mouth quietly, she reaches down skilfully to rub your clit rhythmically with your grinding, using her other hand to pull the cup of your bra under your tit, taking it into her mouth urgently and circling her tongue around the little bud, making you whine out.

“you’re doin’ s’ good.” she whispers as she feels you nearing your climax, leaning down to kiss you again when the door flings open, startling the both of you, you reaching for the nearest throw pillow and holding it over your bare tits, robin shrieking and fumbling around. “jesus!” steve’s voice can be heard with a flick of brown hair around the door before it slams harshly against the door frame, rattling the walls a little from the force and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. “little warning next time would be nice!” he yells, making you both burst out into a fit of giggles.

“robin! that was so embarrassing!” you manage though giggles, robin covering her mouth as her eyes crinkled at the sides, giggling with you. after your giggling died down she sighed. “we’re never gonna live that down.” you just giggle and throw the pillow you were holding over your tits at her face starting the giggle fit all over again.

[taintedcigs]

modern!steve with a lip ring.... he's so cocky with it, licking his lips when he catches you staring.... when his lips are on yours, you can feel it tickling your tongue, and whenever you gasp at the coldness, he barks out a greedy chuckle. "c'mon sweetheart, if you can't handle a little piece of metal, how are you gonna take all of me?"

[baldeslut]

im going to be doing little kinktober blurbs because… im horny 🤫🤫

Rewarding

Praise kink + squirt

Alejandros lips left a wet mark on your forehead as he gave you a kiss after his winning game. Both of you got home celebrating as he sat down on the couch wearing those grey sweatpants (such a slutty take ale). You could’ve swore you saw his dick twitch as he sat down. It was now a staring contest between you and his lap taking slight glances trying not to get caught, unfortunately but fortunately he saw you. “Amor..? Well I see, I’ve won the game and i think I’m missing something. What do you think” He took a glance down to where you were looking as a slight smirk grew on his lips.

Your head nearly the height of his hard cock as you started off at the tip, slowly working down and eventually taking it whole. Humming against his cock made him see stars as he clearly struggled to hold back hid groans. He tugged on your hair as he neared his high as the typical sensation hit the roof of you mouth. On the spot his hips started to slowly thrust now mouth fucking you. “B-bebé, you’re mouth is so fucking goodd-” his dick spewed cum as it painted your mouth white. You swallowed every drop being generous with it as you worked your way back to the tip. His fingers intertwined in your hair as he gently pulled his fingers out of it. You whimpered as the slight sting of your hair being pulled itched you, but it turnt Ale on even more. “Get on your back, right now.” Alejandro demanded and you did as what he said.

His hands slowly widened both your legs with slight pressure, looking in your eyes and the wet spot in your panties. Despite him not touching you yet it felt like hell, it felt like being teased as he just switched between staring deep in your eyes and when he’s gonna take your panties off. He fondled with the red laced hem of your panties as he slowly pulled them down, a string of your wetness dripping down too. He groaned at the sight of your throbbing pussy, as it ached to be eaten out. “Fuck bebé..” he groaned under his breath. “Alejandro, jus-” you got cut off as a gasp left your mouth. The boy in between your thighs eating you out, licking a stripe down. Suddenly his tongue started to dip in and out your wet core, nothing but squelching, heavy breathing and moans filled the room. “B-baby, uhh its too good mmh.” That was enough to praise him. Alejandro loved his reward after a game so he went faster lapping on your dripping cunt. As soon as he felt your walls starting to tighten, he wrapped his lips around your clit releasing a filthy moan that left your mouth. The incoming orgasm made a pressure on your lower abdomen that just couldn’t help you from screaming your boyfriend’s name.

“Ah i know it already bebé, squirt for me.” He listened to you moaning his name like a lustful symphony. Your legs wrapped around his back as your juices coated him as he tried to catch it with his mouth. The sheets drenched as his warm lips continued to kiss your clit, like he wanted more of your squirt. Your back arched off the bed as it became uncontrollable, he clearly looked thirsty for more. The juices dripped off his chin as he wiped it away with his wrist. He scooped you onto the couch as he started a bath and renewing the sheets.

This was sure his reward.

A/N: i kinda think it didn’t take the lines of praise kink but im tired, its 1:47 am😭😭 but im horny and wanted to write sooo….

[babydollmarauders]

THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

[annab-nana]

“Can I have some cocoa?” With the stranger things gang🥺 all hanging out at Steve’s house watching Christmas movies🥺

omg of course this sounds adorable!!

warnings: not proofread, kinda long for a blurb i think but i wanted to include as many people as i could

❀ masterlist ❀

"i thought we were watching gremlins," eddie commented when he brushed past you to grab drinks for robin and himself.

"it freaks will out. lucas too, but he'd never admit to that," you told him while finishing up the mixture for the sweet popcorn. "can you get a head count of how many want popcorn? tell them their options are regular butter popcorn, cinnamon sugar popcorn, or chips which they can get themselves."

"you got it," eddie told you before walking off with two mugs of hot chocolate. as he left, dustin passed him with his eyes on the cups eddie held.

"can i have some cocoa?" the curly-haired boy asked you.

"um, one sec." you paused and turned to the table where the hot chocolate was supposed to be, but it seemed eddie grabbed the last two that were ready. "come back in a little bit. jonathan is making more right now."

dustin left and yelled, "eddie, you took the last of the hot cocoa! i hope you're happy!"

robin's laughter sounded throughout the house as did eddie's voice when he said, "and it's sooooo good."

you rolled your eyes at the pair while getting a start on pouring popcorn into separate bowls for everyone. eddie should be back with a count soon anyway. but, he didn't walk in next.

max and eleven did.

"eddie said you needed to know how many people wanted popcorn," the redhead stated in an almost questioning tone before you nodded.

"six want cinnamon sugar and...." eleven shared with you and trailed off to count in her head, "four want butter."

"jonathan?" you called over to the boy who was mixing hot chocolate on the stove. he turned to face you. "do you want popcorn?"

"um, yeah. i'll try the cinnamon sugar."

"alright, so that's eleven total and i want some too which makes twelve. max, can you grab four more bowls and el, can you help me fill these bowls with popcorn?"

you knew the girls loved to help, so they wasted no time in following your requests. more hands at work made things go by faster anyway.

just as max placed down the bowls you'd asked for, steve appeared in the doorway, his expression not being one of happiness.

"i can't get the vcr to work and i am this close to snapping henderson's neck," he spoke breathily, his eyes bouncing between you and jonathan.

you met jonathan's eye before nodding your head in the direction of the living room. "you know more about that stuff than i do, so i'll take over the hot chocolate. steve, why don't you help me?"

he nodded and the pair of boys swapped places.

"you two got this, right?" you asked the girls to which they nodded. "i want cinnamon sugar too so that's ten of those. the mixture is right here. sprinkle it on and toss it a bit to get it evenly coated. the melted butter is in the microwave. put a little bit on all of it, but more on the ones that are just butter."

once they seemed like they got it, you split to go over to the stove where steve stood. you knew the hot chocolate was almost done when jonathan was working on it, so it's had to be done now.

"you okay?" you inquired of steve when you picked up the pot and started pouring hot cocoa into the mugs that jonathan had set out.

"yeah, yeah. it's just..." he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "keith was on my ass earlier and we were really busy the whole time like there wasn't a break at all. then after work, i had to get stuff for this and ever since i got home, it's been insane. then, the stupid vcr. henderson was trying to help, but he was just telling me what i was already doing and then was saying i was doing it wrong. i let him take over before i came in here."

"have you had any hot chocolate yet? that always makes me feel better," you shared with him while handing him a mug. he accepted it gladly.

"thanks for this," he paused to gesture toward the mug, "and for listening."

"no problem."

"i got it working," jonathan announced when he came back into the kitchen. "they're ready to start if we're ready in here."

you glanced over at the girls who were finishing up the popcorn.

"tell them to come get their popcorn and then we're set to start."

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tag list: @fiction-is-life @marjorie189 @jellyfishbeansontoast

[nikaizkool]

hallo you don't know me but happy birthday you're amazing 🤪☺️

(anything for s/o being a streamer in qsmp and being the one to take care of tilin with quackity that flirts with everyone infront of s/o)

Tilin is so close to you. Literally he’d be following you all around the server.

Quackity telling tilin how you are irl and how much he loves tilins other caretaker. “My son, you love s/o more than me and hey that’s alright, coz I love them more than you so, let’s drink over them, yeah- HEHAHEHAHRHSHSHFHHSJS”

Tilin would be hanging out with Juanaflippa and he’d nonstop talk about s/o nonstop to where Juanaflippa would just leave. ‘Have you seen s/o today? I haven’t seen her anywhere :[‘

Tilin would be jumping around you doing backflips when you come back after being gone for a while and so would quackity.

Quackity flirting with you? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 since Wilbur’s on tour your his new Wilbur. He’s flirting with you, twerking on you, calling you his partner. 👻👻👻

You two have converted tallulah into shipping you two instead of the tnt duo. Quackity doing the orange justice while your with him and tilin “we’re like a family :D that’s so cute” quackity is Alex so sweet when you and tilin are together treating you like his husband/wife/partner in marriage and treating tilin wayyyyy better.

[folkloresthings]

yuki’s love language would be acts of service! mans is always cooking for his love

YES! my thoughts exactly + especially cooking. he spent the first few months of your relationship learning what foods you loved, what foods you weren’t too sure of, what foods you despised. then, every time you’d come over, he’d be cooking something for you. “just try, let me know what you think!” while holding a wooden spoon to your lips, only wanting to see you light up at the taste. making your favourite meals, no matter how many times you tell him that he doesn’t need to cook for you every single time you come over. breakfasts in bed are his specialty, surprising you whenever he can with a tray. pancakes, coffee, fruit, a little vase with a flower. and GOD, does he love feeding you. watching you peek over the fork, waiting for your opinion. he never seems to get sick of it, doing what he loves for the person he loves.

[tboygareth]

I am always always thinking about different scenarios where Eddie could have gotten mixed up in The Mess (tm), and I just think that season 2 would have been great for that tw: reference to kidnapping and child murder

Hawkins has always been a weird fuckin’ place, even before the Byers kid went missing last year. Eddie’s never really been able to put his finger on what it is, but he sees it on the periphery of everything Hawkins touches. It’s not something you can see if you look at it head on, like a migraine aura or one of those floaty things you get in your eyes sometimes.

A couple of days after Halloween, though, Eddie plummets headfirst into the weird that makes the town of Hawkins churn.

He’s skipping school, because O’Donnell has it out for him, swear to god, and he’s flying up a back road on the outskirts of town when the weird comes striding out of the woods to his right. 

It’s a fucking kid, and he’s driving too fucking fast to be able to stop in time but he slams hard on the brakes of his van anyway. The back fishtails and the brakes screech and the air smells like burning rubber, but he comes to a halt, and he didn’t feel the sickening thump-thump that he’s been bracing for. His heart is in his fucking throat, his head pounding, hands sweating, and he is trembling from head to toe.

Eddie launches himself out of the driver’s seat. The kid - the girl, middle school aged, curly hair that falls just to her ears, flannel and jeans - is standing there with her hand out toward the van. She’s posed like a comic book superhero, feet planted, shoulders back, and… her nose is bleeding. The van’s grille is dented like… Eddie can’t even bring himself to think about it. It’s like she stopped the fuckin’ thing with her mind ro some shit.

He definitely needs to cool it on the weed.

Eddie scrambles for something to say, but all he can come up with is a choked out, “Holy shit, kid.”

And that’s how he ends up with ‘Jane’ in the passenger seat of his van. That’s not her real name. Eddie’s not sure how he knows it but he knows it. She says she’s going to see her mother, and Eddie’s not good with silence so he tries to ask her questions, make conversation. She does what she can, but her grasp of language isn’t… great, and Eddie finds himself trying to fill in the blanks and coming up short.

He thinks she must be a runaway who's finally grown tired of not being home. She’s clean, though, and she looks fed, but she looks like she doesn’t sleep all that much, and Eddie wonders what it was about her home life that made her run in the first place. And the further and further they get outside of Hawkins, the more he wonders how she ended up in his little town anyway.

“Hey, kid, uh,” Eddie begins, unsure how to even say what he’s thinking. “You’re not, like, a kidnapping victim or anything, are you? You didn’t escape from, like…” At the word escape, Jane draws in an anxious breath. 

Eddie hears about it in the news sometimes, about kids that are snatched and murdered and the awful, awful things people do to them. He remembers Adam Walsh in eighty one.

“Kid, are you safe?”

“I am safe,” says the girl, but she doesn’t seem so sure.

When they pull up in front of the little house, the last name Ives painted in swooping curls on the mailbox, Eddie puts the van in park and shuts it off.

“I should probably, uh, talk to an adult,” he says. “This is very weird, Jane, and I just want to make sure, uh…”

He doesn’t know what he wants to make sure. Make sure he’s not dropping this kid off into a death trap? Make sure there’s an actual human person behind the door of this house, and that that person isn’t some weirdo who wants to hurt the kid he almost ran over with his van? If she’s just a runaway, though, pulling up at home alongside an eighteen year old boy with long hair that smells like weed will just get the cops called on him.

“No,” Jane says when Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt. “It is okay. You do not have to come with me. Thank you for the ride.”

It might be the most she’s said at one time, the whole way over here. The urgency in her voice just makes Eddie even more anxious to leave her. 

“I really, really should. There’s some sketchy people out there, okay? I just need to make sure this is someplace safe for you.”

Why the fuck does he even care? She’s just some weird kid that he almost hit with his van on the outskirts of his very weird town. He might as well just drop her here and go, get the hell out of dodge and away from whatever brand of weird he’s just stumbled his way into.

But if he sees this kid’s face on the news in two days, Eddie will never fucking forgive himself.

“Wait here, then,” Jane says. “And once I go inside, you can go. This is a safe place. My mother is inside. Please.”

“Fine. Fine. Go ahead, then.”

She goes. She’s walking slow up to the house, like she’s nervous too, and it makes Eddie all the more uneasy about letting her walk away.

She knocks (at her own house?) and then there’s a woman behind the door. There’s no recognition in the woman’s expression, and she closes the door in Jane’s face again. And just as Eddie is about to get out of the van and go up there, Jane puts her arm out toward the door, just like she’d done with his van, and the door swings inward.

What. The fuck. 

He must be hallucinating. Right? The woman who answered the door before must have just opened it back up again. Right? Because that’s not possible. Magic isn’t real. This is real life. …Right?

Eddie sits there, trying to make sense of what he’s just seen, but he convinces himself he must have just been seeing things wrong. It must have been someone inside the house opening the door for Jane.

And if that's not the case? If this kid has magic fucking powers, if she can stop Eddie's van and open up the front door of a house she is clearly not welcome in, why shouldn't he want to fucking hightail it in the other direction? He's no hero. This isn't a Hellfire campaign. Maybe Jane isn't the one that's in danger, here. Maybe Jane is the dangerous one.

Eddie goes, but after about five minutes his paranoia and worry for this little kid gets the better of him, and he turns around.

He’s just gonna drive past, just circle the block to see if everything looks okay. One more time won’t hurt. Maybe he got a fucked up bag of weed, making him more paranoid than usual, but Hawkins is a weird goddamn place, and this doesn’t seem like your usual run of the mill kind of weird. It feels a little dark, a little sinister. 

That girl had a bloody nose when Eddie got out of his van. The grille did not look like that this morning when he left the trailer. (Did it?) The way she talks, the body language, the way she really stood there and faced down Eddie’s van with her hand out like she knew she would be able to stop it. It’s weird. And if nothing else, now Eddie’s a little bit fucking curious, okay? 

So he circles the block where the Ives house sits, and as he drives past, the fucking lights in the front room are flickering.

So he sits. And he waits. And it’s dark outside by the time the front door swings open again and fucking Jane comes striding out clutching a wad of cash in her fist. What the fuck. She spots Eddie and glares at him, but then she wrenches open the passenger side door and gets in.

“Drive,” she says, and Eddie does. “We’re going to Chicago.”