#half of their conversations Buck is looking at him to ‘wanna be yours’ as a theme song

[watchyourbuck]

How much bolder are they gonna get w Buddie this new season bro bc Evan “is that enough?” Buckley has a waaaay of saying things,,,,

[angel-sweets666]

Bakugos first time getting head

AGED UP!! Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader

warnings: smut,, jerking off, blowjob. Sort of a extension to hallway crush

AGED UP im talking like last year of UA 18 years old sort of aged up

A/N I realised people don’t really know me, so to make it easier my names angel and I go by she/her, I never really introduced myself, also this banner😍

sorry for disappearing I’m back now and I think the smut is kinda rushed sorry 😭😭😭

Katsuki never thought of loosing his virginity often, it never crossed his mind on a daily basis. He wasn’t like his idiot “friends” Denki, sero and kirishima who all had either lost their virginity or were planning on it, especially Denki when he would yap into katsukis ear about finding the perfect girl to plow into which often lead to bakugo getting up and leaving mid conversation.

but then there was you, you flicked a switch in his brain like no girl did before. Sure he had a huge crush on you like he’s never had a crush on a girl before, but he also had a lust for you. Katsuki would sit in class and stare at you from the corner of his eye while imagining bending you over his bed and stuffing you with his seed or thinking about dragging you to the bathrooms and fucking you in a stall ect, all thoughts lead to him asking aizawa to go to the bathroom because he’s got a massive boner he desperately wants to deal with.

And dealing with it would probably be the most pathetic (prettiest) thing ever. Katsuki would sit in the bathroom with his baggy pants and boxers pulled down and his hard sore cock up against the fabric of his shirt, poor boy would spit into his hand and stroke the length of it with a grumble and after a while he’d get desperate and just start fucking his fist, bucking his hips into his hand all while imagining it was you balls deep on his cock. You would be so pretty bouncing on his dick in the school toilets while he held your hips and buried his face in your tits with a grunt and if your lucky a whine.

but bakugo couldn’t just fuck you, not just randomly. You wouldn’t allow that, you have more pride than that.

So when you two started talking then started talking he was beyond happy, though he wouldn’t show it behind his usually stoic and aggressive personality.

One day you two were sitting together at the back of class, both of you bored out of your minds! Katsukis eyes wonder from the board to you.he admired how pretty you were from head to toe, his eyes lingered around your thighs… your soft pretty thighs… the blonde bit his lip before trying to distract himself.

not now not now not now.

The blonde looked back down at your thighs before looking up at your face, only to see you looking back at him “what are you looking at?” You giggled, teasing him a bit “hah? I can look at you if I wanna look at you” he grumbled and turned his attention back to the board “righttt…nice hard on by the way” you teased him again as you pulled at a lock of his ash blonde hair. Katsuki looked down to find himself beginning to get a boner “shit…” he whispered and raised his hand “oi can I go to the toilet?”

You watched katsuki get up and leave in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. You giggled with amusement, you’d never think you’d have that sort of reaction out of him, you two never did anything sexual as of right now, you didn’t think he had a interest in it. But from that moment you realised maybe he did and just didn’t wanna tell you. You gave it a couple minutes before raising your hand too

“Mr. Aizawa, can I go to the toilet? Lady problems,” you said with a grin, knowing full well he suspected what you were really up to. The exhausted man barely glanced up from his desk, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “I don’t care…” he muttered, waving you off dismissively.

You walked down the hallway, the silence broken only by the rhythmic clicking of your shoes against the polished floor. As you neared the boys' toilets, you paused and knocked lightly on the wall before calling out, “Katsuki? You in here?” . After a brief silence, you heard a response. “Y-yeah! I’m… ah- I’m okay. Piss off!” Katsuki shouted back, his voice strained, you could hear slight panting. “Am I interrupting something?” You cooed, trying to tease him “hmmph.., yes! Go away!” He again yelled out “oooookayyy…”

you stood by the door as if you knew what was gonna happen

“you still there?” He grumbled out to you “yep” you called back out “you were jerking off huh?” You giggled “shut the fuck up!” “It’s alright it’s normal!” he mumbled in response. After a while in silence you decided to tease him more “so did you cum?” “What the fuck?” You laughed in response, riskily walking into the boys bathroom. “Do you want some help..?” You asked him, the silence was loud.

and that’s how you found yourself on your knees infront of him in the stall while he pushed your head down on his dick “fuck.. that feels good…” he grumbled and pushed you felt the tip of his dick slide deeper down into your throat, you gagged a little due to his huge size. Bakugo felt a bit panicked as it was his first time even getting his first time getting head “shit too far? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he pulled your head off his cock with a loud pop “n-nope” you said as a bit of drool fell down your chin, a dopey grin on your face,

before you knew it katsuki was pushing your head down on his hard cock again “Mmmm.. good girl…” he pet your hair as he pulled at your hair to push you up and down on him. Just as kirishima said he should. The slow pleasure began to build up into frustration, bakugo held your head up as he began to fuck into your face

“A-ah fuck! Don’t get caught don’t get caught… mmmmph…. Such a good girl..”

all while you gagged as tears built up into your eyes, he was much bigger then you thought and you could barely breath with the cock in your mouth. katsuki pushed his whole shaft into your mouth and crossed the line, painting your throat white with his hot cum.

“fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk”

you pulled his softened dick out your mouth with a pop, swallowing the semen left in your mouth. The blonde stared down at you with short breath, panting softly. “Thank you..I’ve never done that.. before..” “it’s alright baby.. first time for everything”

“shut up….”

HAS EVERYONE SEEN THE MHA ENDING? IM SO SAD. GIVE ME THE PEN IM RE WRITING THAT, I DONT WANT MHA TO END

[killakalx]

17+ content, just dick eating you out while you’re otp

“oh my god- dick,” you scold from above, legs clamping around his head as he sucks on your clit. all you get is a sly hum against your heat in response, hand gliding up and down your thighs before locking around your hips. still, the rude vibrations against your nightstand makes you antsy, and dick seems too occupied to acknowledge it as you reach across the bed. “dick!”

“hm,” he barely responds, as the tug on the front of his hair only urges him on.

“cut it out,” you tell him.

his tone picks up a bit of disappointment, worried to have done something wrong. dick finally picks his head up, eyes hanging low and lingering on your lips before looking up at you. “you really want me to?”

“no,” you sigh, “but I… I had a date. hold on.”

his expression changes from an apologetic puppy to an almost irritated cat, tilting his head when you pick up the phone. he’s not mad, it just… feels a little rude, interrupting his meal for the same guy you were so ready to ghost. dick was the first to tell you that you wouldn’t follow through with it, and he’s getting bit in the ass for being right.

and on top of that, listening to the half-assed apology you had to come up with is painful. you can’t exactly tell the guy you’re busy with your best friend, but god he wishes you could. he’s been taught by only the best that patience is a virtue, but it easily slips his mind for this one incident. “yeah- no, it’s not your fault!” you repeat over and over, “I just got caught up. forgot about some stuff i had to- mm!”

“you’re rude,” dick whispers in feigned offense, thumb rolling over your clit when he pushes your legs open a bit further. “had me thinking I was interrupting something.”

“you are!” you yell under a hushed voice, covering the speaker of the phone before your breath hitches.

“mm-mm,” his head lowers again, “he’s interrupting me.” your leg moves to kick at his shoulder, but he’s already secured you under his grip and it’s evident he isn’t letting go again. you’d opt to yell at him, but that’d be very telling. “since you want both of us, just stay on the phone.”

“what? no, you-“

“hang up too soon and i’ll stop. get too loud and I’ll keep going.”

you can hear the mischief seeping through his teeth before his tongue prods at your cunt, and at this point, your planned date’s wondering what happened, so you’ve got no choice but to pull this off. god knows the last thing you want dick to do is stop. so, begrudgingly, you continue the conversation that’s only hanging by a thread.

your responses teeter from choppy sentences to low hums as he speaks, and dick’s snickering to himself when it’s unclear if your poor conversation holding stems from true boredom or from his tongue lapping up your slick. one hand holds on tight to a mess of black hair while the other fidgets with the phone, eventually digging it into the covers to give yourself grace.

“he’s talking to you,” dick mutters against your thigh, fingers curling up inside you and making your hips buck. he’s drawn out a low but clearly audible moan and he dips deeper to nudge at your sweet spot, keeping true to his promise and watching you unravel as the chatter from your phone becomes distant. “he sounds worried, babe.”

don’t act like you care, you wanna tell him, but he’s right. a few more moans of defeat and you’re forcing the phone closer to your face, assuring him that you’re fine. you can’t tell what’s more impressive; how long dick can spend savoring your pussy or how long this guy can hold a useless conversation without catching a hint.

[talktonytome]

"See, this is why we should have done separate parties," Eddie groans. "If I had known this was going to happen the whole time!" He raises his voice pointedly at Buck and Tommy who are very busy tasting each other's drinks-- off each other's mouths.

Buck pulls off Tommy's lips long enough to flip him the bird and smirks at him. "You did know this would happen so shut it, Diaz! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go dance with my super hot soon-to-be husband," he declares, pulling a giddy, tipsy Tommy by the hand, toward the dance floor. "Oh, if I were you, I wouldn't look at us because we will not be leaving room for Jesus, he throws back with a grin.

They had decided on a joint bachelor party because neither one of them wanted to be away from each other and so far, it's been a blast. They've been bar-hopping with all their friends and family, ensuring a great time wherever they went. This was their fourth bar of the night and it was almost criminal they had yet to dance properly.

To be fair, they had spent half the time making out-- sue him, his man looks incredibly hot in sinfully molded jeans and a slutty, loose shirt that shows half his chest. Tommy may have sucked his soul though his dick in the bathroom of the last bar and they knew they weren't fooling anyone, when they came out sporting matching dazed looks and Tommy's hair in all states of disarray from where Buck had gripped it.

Now, they're pressed together, Buck's back against Tommy's broad chest and his head thrown back on a sturdy shoulder. Tommy's hands are curled possessively on his hips and they move together sinuously. "Hmm, you feel good," he sighs contentedly.

Tommy uses the grip on his hips to push Buck's ass into his crotch, so he can feel where he's already half-hard. "So do you, feel what you do to me, baby," he growls into his ear.

"Tommy," he whines, turning in his arms, needing to kiss him immediately. Much like their kiss in the hospital, they crash into each other, lips sliding and nipping. He can taste the fruity alcohol they've been swapping all night and it pulls a low moan from his throat. He keeps a hand on the nape of Tommy's neck and the other on his waist.

Tommy grabs handfuls of his ass and echoes his own moan into Buck's mouth. It's only when he hears hushed laughs and whispers, a low whistle here and there that Buck remembers where they are. When he reluctantly pulls away, with a final nip, Tommy's reddened, spit-slick lips make him want to dive in all over again. He kinda doesn't want to get arrested for public indecency on his bachelor party night, though. Maybe.

"Hey," his whispers leaning in to press his forehead to Tommy's, pausing to catch his breath. "Wanna get out of here?"

Tommy pulls back a little to look him in the eyes. "Thought you'd never ask," he says with a wicked smile. He reaches for Buck's hand, tangling it with his own. "Ooo Eddie's gonna be so mad we ditched our own party."

Bucks laughs, turning to scan for their friends around the room. They all look like they're caught up talking to each other, including Eddie, who seems to be in an animated conversation with Lucy. "Psh, let him," he shrugs, rolling his eyes. "Now, let's go consummate this bachelor party." He's already pulling them to the exit. Their friends will understand their Irish goodbye.

"Isn't that for the wedding night?" Tommy asks, biting back a grin. "Besides, didn't we kinda do that in the bathroom already?"

"Potaytoe, puhtato," Buck huffs, waving his free arm. "Now do you or do you not want to go have sex with your very willing, very hot for you fiancé?"

"I want. Very much." Tommy chokes out.

"That's what I thought," Buck smirks, bringing a hand down to swat at his ass. "Hop to it."

He feels Tommy shudder against him. "Sir, yes, sir."

[wishful-sinful-9]

WANNA BE YOUR DOG

Chapter Four

Cagefighter!Logan Howlett x Reader

Chapters | Masterlist

cw: suggestive

You don’t sleep. You lie under the covers, hyper-aware of the man on the other side of the wall. In your restless mind, last night’s event plays over and over and over again.

The two of you had broken apart after those few blissful seconds to blink stupidly at each other. The only thing able to snap you out of your trance was an icy gust of wind making your whole body shudder, at which Logan said hurriedly, “We should go inside.”

An awkward goodnight and that was it; your doors clicking shut simultaneously. Did that mean he regrets it? Do you regret it? You groan into your pillow wishing only to sleep, sleep, sleep. 

–

Logan goes to work early and comes back in the mid-afternoon. In the evening, you take the bus to the bar; he drives there later. As you ward off nasty men all night, there’s a deep dread weighing you down inside at the thought of yet another excruciating ride home. 

The second he starts up the van, he turns on the radio. The Rolling Stones’ Wild Horses fills the empty silence in place of conversation. 

“I like this song,” you say meekly. 

“Yeah,” he grunts, “Stones are great.”

Another awkward goodnight. And that’s all you said to each other today. 

–

After another day passes, you don’t know whether to cry or scream. You can’t meet his eyes and now he can’t meet yours either. You’re wound up so tightly that you fear what will happen to you when you unravel. Sat on the couch, you remain as far away from Logan as you can manage without making it apparent you’re trying to put space between you, bouncing your knee. The house is dark and the TV glaringly bright, causing your eyes to water, but you keep on staring straight at it. 

Logan, however, is staring straight at you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks after nearly half an hour of hesitation. 

That’s all it took. 

“No, Logan, I’m not okay,” you snap. “After we – the other night – and then you just don’t say anything to me! For fuck’s sake, it’s been radiosilence from you for two nights! You could at least tell me you regretted kissing me-”

“Regretted?” he echoes, brows furrowed.

“Why else would you ignore me?” you shout. 

Logan stands, abandoning his beer on the side table. “I don’t regret shit. I thought you were the one who regretted it, since you haven’t been able to look me in the face since.”

You leap to your feet. “I was embarr-”

“Do you regret it?”

The question makes you pause. Logan waits, staring you down with such an intensity it should make you want to run – but you don’t, you step closer, recalling his taste, his touch… 

“No.” You answer. 

His expression softens as he processes this new information. “Then…why are we fighting?”

“I don’t know,” you breathe, the both of you inching tentatively closer. You take in his face as the light from the screen flickers across his features: he’s handsome in a classically rugged way, so much so it makes your heart swell against your ribcage. He gently settles his hands on your waist and you peer up at him nervously. “Will you kiss me?”

His lips collide with yours the second the words leave your mouth, his arms engulfing you as you loop yours around his neck. It’s pure passion. The slightest whimper escapes the back of your throat, causing him to bite down on your bottom lip. Your hands immediately make their way up into his hair. 

You break for air, gasping and panting, and he takes the opportunity to pull you back down onto the couch, settling in his lap. He begins to descend down your neck: starting along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, and settling at the base, kissing and suckling. Your hands find purchase again in his hair. You gasp when he finds a sensitive spot, and he sucks a mark there before attacking your lips again eagerly. Heat is pooling in your lower abdomen, and your hips twitch, a subtle half-grind that Logan picks up on straight away. He bucks up into you and presses your hips down to meet him in a grind that makes you stutter out a startled moan. Your bodies move just like that as you kiss each other feverishly. 

When you pull away from his face, his pupils large with lust, gazing dreamily into yours – you realise what you’re doing. 

“Wait, Logan – wait,” you pant. 

He stops immediately, studying your face with a terrified expression. “Are you okay? I can stop.”

You giggle airily, feeling a little light-headed. “I’m fine, Lo, I just don’t want to jump into things.” You see him exhale with relief, wrapping his arms around your middle to hold you closer. “After everything with my last boyfriend…”

“I understand.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll take it slow, sweetheart, no rush at all.”

–

The next week was tentative. You tested the waters first, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he left for work in the morning. Then he put his arm around you when you watched TV together; you pressed your arm against his as he washed while you dried the dishes; he put his hand on your knee when driving home the previous night. 

Although he could never admit it to himself, Logan is absolutely terrified. You’re such a sweet thing – delicate and lovely next to him. Like glass. He worries that if he were to hold you too tight you’d shatter into a million little reflective pieces. 

Sore from swinging an axe all day, he drives home, recalling how he once lived so coldly in this van when it dawns on him that there’s no going back. Your warmth sustains him now. A rare smile lifts his lips at the thought of your big eyes and pretty face greeting him at the door. 

The saccharine fantasy is instantly crushed like a bug by the scene that awaits him inside. He sees you standing in the living room, a girl he doesn’t recognise crying on your shoulder. Something sinister seizes in his gut when he sees the distant, anxious look in your eyes as you half-heartedly pet her hair. 

“Who’s this?”

–

At first, you’d simply stared, dumbfounded, when Alice appeared at your door. 

“He kicked me out and I have nowhere to go,” she’d wept, and, in spite of everything, you stepped aside to usher her into the home you once shared. 

You tried hard to forget how familiar it sounded when she explained how he’d found someone else and left her in his dust. There was a heaviness in your bones when you brought her into your embrace. 

“You can sleep on the couch.” you sighed. 

–

“Why did you let her in?”

Your bedroom door clicked shut behind Logan as you slump on the bed with blushing cheeks. He must think I’m such a loser. 

You let out a shaky breath, “We were friends for years, practically sisters, I couldn’t just… say no.”

He snorts, and tears prick at your waterline. “Some sister.”

Your lower lip trembles. You bow your head so that he can’t see you try to blink back the tears –  but it’s no use. 

“Hey, I just mean…” he stoops down and takes your chin in his hand. “She hurt you. She could hurt you again.”

“I know, but…” you sigh. “It’s worth giving her a second chance.”

An unreadable look flickers over his face; he swallows hard before murmuring, “If that’s what you want.”

a/n: so sorry this took so long!!

@viviannagiorgini @maximumchilddreamland @vinaluvsu @policedeer @curlies-world @twinky-wink @willow-t @nobrihere @marshymallo @jasmines-greentea @pink-jello-fish @unlikelygalaxygiver @yakbuttersoup

[pwettysouls]

satoru gojo x reader

warnings: blowjob, slight brat kink, nipple licking, pure filth.

wc: 753

author note: this is just a random drabble i thought of while watching a movie☙

As you lay on your bed, engrossed in a TV show, the peaceful moment was interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. With a glance at the caller ID, you see that it was your best friend calling and immediately answered. You both talked for about half an hour, catching up on life and sharing our experiences. Suddenly, the bed creaked and sagged next to you, and you looked over to see Gojo, lounging beside you. You ignored him and continued my conversation until I heard a loud sigh from him. Slightly irritated, you turned to him and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Can you call her back later?" He asked, making no effort to lower his voice. You rolled my eyes at him and apologized to your best friend. You both resumed our conversation, until you felt a soft kiss on your neck, making you shiver slightly. You shoot a sharp glance at Gojo, he just grins and leans away from you. You try to get back to the conversation, but before you know it, he's planting soft kisses on your neck and his hand is slowly trailing down your back. It's almost impossible to focus on anything else with him doing that. He begins squeezing your ass while nipping at your neck. “You know what? I'm going to have ‘ta call you back.” You didn't even wait for your best friend to reply before you hung up and slammed the phone down. “You want attention so much? Well, now you got it,” You exclaimed as I stood up, your gaze locked on Gojo, who just grinned back at you.

a few moments later

“Mhmm..C’mon- NGhn...!! ‘M sorr- Hgnn, hmm- nnHHA!” Gojo cries out, his hands cuffed behind him with pink furry cuffs. Your hand moving agonizingly slow on his cock. Whilst your other hand palmed his balls, softly pulling and squeezing them. He whimpers as you tug on his balls. “Not so bratty now huh?” He shakes his head and attempts to thrust himself into your hand to get more friction. But you just remove your hand from his cock. “I don't think brats should get what they want. Right, Gojo?” He only whimpers in response. You kitten lick the precum off his tip and move up to his chest. You begin to lick his right nipple and pinch the left one between your fingers, twisting it slightly. Your tongue presses against the hardened sensitive nipple, moans are seemingly forced out of Gojo as your tongue flicks against his chest. He ruts himself into your lower abdomen as you continue tormenting his poor nipples. He begins to rut into your lower body faster and faster before you back away with a smirk. “Does my brat wanna cum?” You poke your lip out seemingly mocking the desperate look in his eyes. He never has looked more needy in the entire time you've been together. “Please I’ll be good.” He says looking at you with pleading eyes. You sigh and sit on your knees in front of him. A whimper follows his futile plea “You want it that bad brat?” You question, sweat glistening off Gojo’s forehead, “So bad please” Is all Gojo could say through breathy moans. His cheeks flush and his light pink tip leaky. His body buckles as your thumb swipes softly over his sensitive tip dripping with little dabbles of cum, the cum clinging to your finger as Gojo whimpers and twitches. "Do you think you deserve it?" You ask, Your hand held onto his cock, and the other held his thigh down, keeping him from bucking up into your touch. "P-please, I’ll be good.." He whines, "My brat boy Gojo'." His hips attempt to thrust into your hand, but the pressure on his thigh restricts him. Strengthening your grip harder on his thigh. You begin pumping his cock up and down suddenly, and your hand comes to a halt, slowing down when he lets out pathetic whimpers, mindlessly babbling "Ngh--please 'lemme cum!” You intake his full length into your mouth moving as quickly as you could, so you could make him cum. His moans and whimpers get louder you could tell he was close. He cums and all of his white goo spurts into your mouth. He sighs in relief at his release. You stand up and grab his face and kiss him, sharing the taste of his cum with him. After you both finish the passionate kiss, he looks at you with a playful smirk and says, "Can we do that again, babe?"

[alchemistc]

Couched In Metaphor

"You want a beer man?"

Eddie tilts a look over his shoulder, already halfway through the doorway to his kitchen, and Tommy shoots a glance at his watch. "Mmm, no can do. I'm meeting Evan in a bit."

"Is this my cue to act a fool for your attention?"

There's a moment where Tommy wants to double down on defense for Evan, but it's a joke, it's just a joke and if Evan were right next to him he'd definitely enjoy the gentle ribbing. He tries not to examine the immediate desire to defend him too closely. Too much, too soon, it's barely been a few months.

"And he's got jokes, ladies and gentlemen."

Eddie grins: wide, amused. It's what he came for - the chance to get Eddie out of his own head for a few hours. "You guys doing anything special?"

"We're on a mission to pick out a new couch, apparently."

When Eddie stills, Tommy swears it's like he's just been frozen in place; the beer in his hand raised halfway to his mouth, lips pursed, brows raised, a cartoon character stuck in time. He plays it off a moment later, hastily lowering the bottle, nodding. "Don't let him bring a clipboard."

It's Tommy's turn to wrinkle his brow.

"No good can come when that man's got a prioritized list, Tommy, I'm serious."

"So we're ignoring the fact that there's apparently something about tagging along for furniture shopping that just made you freeze frame?"

Eddie tilts his head, squints his eyes, takes a drag off his beer. "That's a Buck and Tommy conversation, not an Eddie and Tommy conversation. You wanna know more about the clipboard, though, I've got about thirty horror stories."

---

"I feel like maybe I've been bamboozled," Tommy says, three furniture stores in. The couch Evan is currently testing is -- just like every other couch they've looked at so far.

"None of them have been right."

He's got that look in his eyes like he's been knocking on doors in a structure fire for too long.

"Are we worried about aesthetics, here, or comfort, or whether or not they fit the space? Eddie warned me about Clipboard Buck but maybe you should pull up your notes app and make a pro con list."

Evan flushes. Darts a glance down at his feet, and his thumbs dig into the seams of his hoodie pocket. "I just thought I'd walk in and find what I was looking for. Sort of thought it'd just - call to me, or something."

"It's a couch Evan, not a lifetime commitment."

And Evan flushes deeper, cheeks pinking, lips twisting. Tommy, who's been hovering nearby while Evan tests out what feels like half a million identical couches, feels himself sigh, bending and twisting to settle next to him, one hand reaching out to squeeze at Evan's knee.

"So it seems like maybe there's a story here I'm not aware of."

It sort of tumbles out of Evan, then, a rush of half apologies and stumbling explanations, and Tommy thinks of the snatches of conversations they've had about their past partners, their admittedly not great parents.

"And - you know, I just thought. I mean. I figured." He gestures, vaguely, and then more pointedly, a glance from beneath his lashes to catch Tommy's gaze as he waggles a finger between the two of them.

Oh.

Tommy waits a beat. Sometimes it's better to let Evan work it out in his own head for a second.

Also, he's - sort of reeling, a bit. Too much, too soon, he'd thought, but here he was, unaware of the significance of being asked on this little errand until he suddenly wasn't, and -

"Sorry. That's - it's not like - anyway, I've clearly put way too much weight into the couch thing, you're right, it's just a couch."

He's been ignoring the urge to curl his fingers around Evan's for the better part of two hours, now. He doesn't question it, usually, but in this specific scenario it's felt too couple-y, too forward, too much like begging a sales associate to make some assumptions Evan wasn't prepared to deal with.

Evan's still twisting his hands together inside the pocket of his jacket, and Tommy makes the snap decision before he can talk himself out of it - two fingers tucking into the pocket, pressing into the meat of Evan's palm, pressing up and pulling without any real force, and it's like Evan deflates, a bit, hand immediately following the soft drag out of the fabric to curl four fingers around Tommy's palm.

"It doesn't have to be just a couch."

---

They have their first fight, navigating the stairwell up to Evan's floor, and situate it in the room in stony silence. Tommy considers leaving, once it's exactly as Evan wants it. He's good at that - jumping ship at the first sign of trouble, and he has to swallow the urge down while Evan glares a hole into the armrest.

He's just opening his mouth to speak when Evan's voice drifts over to him, quieter than he'd expected. "I really don't want it to just be a couch."

And Tommy's never -

He's dated plenty of people - cared for less, and loved very few, but he's never steeped shit in metaphor and he's also never gone from "attracted to the straight guy again" to "this inanimate object is a symbol of our relationship" in -- ever.

"Evan."

There's a flatness to his voice that only ever comes out when he's truly upset, and he hates it, hates that he can just shut it all off. He makes a conscious effort, unfurls the fists shoved into his pants pockets. Tries again.

"We're hiring someone if you ever wanna move that damn thing again."

Evan's smile splits across his face like the sun breaking over the horizon.

---

Christopher eyes the couch with suspicion.

"It's a lot bigger than your old ones," he finally manages, with a shifty glance between the two of them, and Tommy has to remind himself that Evan had gone down a rabbit hole of research trying to find the best way to clean leather once they'd finally gotten over themselves and proceeded with the making up part of their argument.

Eddie clocks the look running across his face, and makes a face at Evan. Evan tucks his tongue into his cheek, but he can't quite hide his grin, and Tommy tries not to imagine the next time they'll need to go furniture shopping.

---

"Can I admit something?" Evan asks, fingers shifting across the expanse of Tommy's chest, head tucked neatly beneath his chin.

Tommy hums, still half asleep, trying to ignore the crick in his neck and the wide expanse of his lower back that keeps sinking into the crack between the cushions.

Evan presses his lips lazily into the side of Tommy's neck. "I actually hate this couch. It's the worst."

Tommy laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more when Evan presses up on his elbow to pout straight into his face.

Tommy can't help but curl a palm around his jaw, ring and middle finger sliding up to cup his cheek, reaching for the marks at his brow. "Can we skip the torture of another horrendous shopping trip and just toss this one to the curb when I ask you to move in with me?"

He only stills for half a moment, eyes already bright and wide and happy before he nods. "When?" he repeats, all puppy enthusiasm as he buries his face back in Tommy's neck.

"Keep it to yourself, though, I haven't decided how I'm gonna ask. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

Evan hums, fingers drifting down his arm, now - it's a familiar, teasing path that always drives Tommy a little wild, and - yep, they skate over his wrist, dancing right along the length of his fingers and down across his hip, little finger spreading wide towards his inseam.

---

Evan breaks his couch the first night all his things have been unpacked.

He makes a little pleased hum, low in his throat, when Tommy pulls up the same site he'd used to buy it, adds three to his cart, and passes the laptop off to Evan for opinions. Curls a warm hand around the back of Tommy's neck, presses his lips to the crown of Tommy's head. Tommy takes a moment to enjoy the feel of it.

"Pick one," he manages through gritted teeth when Evan nips at his earlobe.

"It's just a couch, babe, whichever one you want."

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 28: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him. @starryeyedjanai

"Steve!" Robin clicked her fingers in front of Steve's face, Steve turned towards her, "Have you heard a thing I said?"

"Sure, I was listening."

"No you weren't you weren't looking at me, I wasn't born yesterday, Evie."

Steve smiled slyly, "Fine what were you saying about your date with Nancy," he replied pointedly looking at her lips this time.

Robin cracked a giddy grin, "The rollerskating was a great idea she held my hand all night cause you know I'm a klutz!"

Steve laughed turning to continue stacking the tapes. Robin poked her head round him at the sound of the front bell.

"Eddie!" She said tapping Steve and pointing. Steve grinned at the metalhead wiggling his fingers in a wave.

"Stevie! How's my favourite future cyborg, you ready to go?" Steve liked watching Eddie talk, the way his lips moved.

"Thanks for driving him, Ed, it was hard enough convincing him to go to the first appointment, wanna make sure he actually gets them."

"Course, Bucks, happy to babysit our favourite babysitter."

Steve punched out his card and gathered his things from the back. The drive to the doctor's office was quick, the thrum of Eddie's mixtapes vibrating the van. Steve always liked hanging out with Eddie, he liked loud.

He really wanted to hold Eddie's hand once they were sat in the bright white office. The cold walls were a little too similar to the bunker, but he'd promised Robin.

"It'll be a little weird when we first turn them on but you should adjust within a week." The doctor explained before fiddling with the device. A few seconds later the tune of the radio flooded his ears, Steve perked up a smile gracing his face. He looked over at Eddie, "I can hear the radio!" Eddie grinned widely in return.

Later, back at the trailer Steve was enjoying hearing the movie playing, happy to not have to rely on the limited subtitled movies Hawkins had to offer. He could hear Eddie finishing dinner in the background, it warmed his heart feeling somewhat normal again.

"Hear you go, sweetheart," Eddie said passing Steve a bowl of spaghetti, plopping down beside him, it was nice, hearing Eddie's voice more clearly now.

He paused the movie as Eddie started monologuing about something that had happened at the garage that morning. Steve wasn't really paying attention, too busy watching Eddie's lips. He wanted to tell Eddie how he felt but he didn't want to lose this.

"Stevie?"

"Hmm?" He replied not looking away from Eddie's mouth.

"Your hearing aids stop working? You've been reading my lips."

Steve blushed, "Um no, I heard you just fine."

Eddie paused before smirking, "See something you like then, sweetheart?"

Steve smiled in return, "Maybe, maybe I just need you to come closer to hear better."

Eddie leaned forward, glancing down at Steve's lips, "Better?"

"Hmm, little closer, don't want to miss anything you say, very important."

Eddie was barely a breath away, all Steve had to do was close the gap, "Stevie." Eddie said Steve's name like a promise and Steve couldn't help moving forward, brushing his lips against Eddie's.

He's glad he listened to Robin and got the hearing aides, he wanted to memorise the sound of Eddie's gasps and moans forever.

[narcolini]

white room - pt. 2

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 4.3k words, 2 of ? part one here a/n: tw for reader talking about their dad being dead (sorry pops) & thankyou darling kay (hausofmamadas) for the gif <3

Your idea of nice and his idea of nice are two whole different things. Not to say it isn’t a nice place, you know, it’s cute, but it isn’t nice nice, in the fancy kind of way. Which is probably your own fault for letting so many hotshot advertisement guys take you out and getting you used to it—and that’s no good at all, cause all they wanna do is impress you into sleeping with one of them, and all Johnny wants to do is eat pizza by the slice. Apparently.

He says “they got the good stuff here” as he holds the door open and by the time you’re sitting with a pie in front of you, yeah, you gotta say, it’s a Hell of a piece. So cheesy you gotta stretch your whole arm up to get it away from the plate, and when Johnny does it, you hook a finger around the stringy bit and pull it right into your mouth. Half thieving, half flirting. You figure he won’t mind so much about that, considering how good you’re looking for him, and he don’t. He’s even smiling as you chew it up. 

“You said you work in an office?” he asks, before taking a big bite of that piece you stole from. Washing it down with a Dr Pepper too, cause this place is too family friendly for anything other than a good old fashioned soda pop. 

“Mhmm. One that does them ads in the paper and on leaflets and stuff.”

“You write ‘em?”

“I wish,” you drag out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes all the way into the back of your head. “I sit in meetings and take notes, then I sit at my desk and I type up the notes. Then I go take it to my boss and he says, ‘thanks, doll, ‘nother meeting at twelve’. Then it all goes fuckin’ round again.”

He snorts, cause you’re funny and he sees it, not like those other guys. “You don’t like it then?”

“Oh, I like anything that pays me to do nothin,” you say. “The other week, they gave me overtime to sit and watch the phone incase some big important call came through. Well, that thing didn’t ring once, not from the moment I sat down, to the second I got up. Easiest buck I ever made.”

He blows out again, laughing over the neck of his pop, and you put the corner of your own slice into your mouth. You shouldn’t talk while you’re chewing, and you don’t ever do it, promise, but you’re nearly done with the eating part when you ask him, “And what d’you do?”

Well, you’d’ve thought you’d asked him the answer to the universe from the way he’s thinking about it. You wait for him and he takes another drink, then another bite, and then he itches his jaw with the end of his thumb, though no-one ever gets no itchy jaw like that, and says, “I drive trucks.”

“Yeah? I figured riding bikes was your job.”

Johnny don’t really say nothin to that, which he does a lot you’re finding. Thinks a sort of a look and a noise like he’s saying something is a fine enough answer for anything that he doesn’t really wanna answer. Like a whole third of your conversation so far has been just that—you talking and him listening, sure, he’s good at that part, but then he hums or something and it’s right back to you talking again. 

Must be how he likes it though, cause he ain’t stopped you yet and you could talk for the whole world if they wanted you to.

“What’s your deal?” you ask, after watching him eat an entire slice without saying a thing. 

“My deal?”

“Yeah.”

“I gotta have a deal?”

“Everyone’s got a deal.” You look at him, really look at him, take all the lifelines and scars in like you never put your eyes on him before. Find yourself staring at his hands too, at the tan line there, or the missing tan, you guess, right there on his ring finger. The rest of him’s done up in that way like he’s been out in the sun too much, all except for that one little bit. The shape of a thing that’s not there no more. “You married?” 

You wanna know, and you’re not afraid of asking about it, cause if he is this is gonna be a real easy fix. You out the door, him taking the bill. 

He sighs, long and slow, then wipes his mouth with the screwed up napkin from next to him. “Divorced,” he says.

“Kids?”

“Two girls.” Which explains the pizza place. He don’t know what nice is anymore, unless you can take a kid there and make them real happy about it.

“Do they like you?” 

One of his little eyebrows tweaks up at that, then sinks again into a mean frown that you’d hate to be on the real end of—cause he don’t mean it now, he’s just prickly about talking about it. You can tell. And who can blame him, you’re asking a lot of questions in the same sort of way that your mother hates so much. No manners, she says, no patience neither.

“Yeah,” he tells you, “they like me.” Then his hand and that napkin comes waving over the table at you. “What—what is this?”

You shrug, not hiding nothin. “Just getting a look at you. Figuring you out.”

He sniffs. Nods. “You gonna go and type all this shit up later?”

You’re thinking he means it like a dig, like you should feel some type of way about the sort of person he’s accusing you of being, but it’s got you smiling still. Cause he’s talking now and with real character too. “I might do. Been a while since I heard something really worth typing up.”

“And what’s yours,” he grumbles, pissier than usual, “what’s your deal that everyone’s gotta have?”

“Dead Pops,” you tell him, and you say it so quick that all the attitude drops right off of him. 

His head shakes—just the one time. “What’s that mean?”

“Well it means he’s six feet under, Johnny.”

“No—why’s that…you didn’t like your old man or something?”

“I liked him fine. Just never saw him enough and then he went and died before I could make it up to him.”

For some reason, he nods like he gets the feeling, but his eyes are all of a sudden shy of looking at you, like you might be upset at him for asking in the first place. You think the noise he makes is him trying to say sorry, or passing on his condolences, but no man you ever met has had any kind of manner when it comes to being sensitive, so you figure that’s the best he can do.

“He was from round here,” you say, “that house of mine was his first, you know.”

Another nod.

“Thought coming back would help me feel like, I don’t know, like I was connected to him or something. Like it might make me feel a little less lost.”

Then his eyes are up again and he don’t look so scared of upsetting you no more. “Did it work?” he asks. “You feel better now you’re here?”

You hum a little, like you need some time to think up the answer that’s been screaming at you since you unpacked the very first box. “Nope.” You shake your head, real sure of it. “Turns out, it just makes you fuckin’ lonely, living in a dead man’s house.”

He lets out a big long breath at that, like he’d been holding it in, and you get to smell the cigarette he smoked half an hour ago, right in front of your face. “Yeah, alright,” he says, “that’s a Hell of a deal.”

You smile. “Now you’re gettin' it.”

He points at the empty bottle in front of you. “You want another one?”

On all them other dates, this is where you’d say no thanks, I’ll take a ride home and an early night, if it’s no bother to you. And every time, all those other guys would be very bothered by it, might even make you pay for your half and a cab too, but not one part of you wants to find out what Johnny’d say to all that. You don’t want another pop and you don’t wanna go home neither. For all his quiet, and his funny ways—like he don’t always look like he wants to be talking to you—you’re finding him awful good to be around.

Makes as much sense to you as it makes no sense at all, but sometimes it’s just like that. People you can be yourself with, you know. People who make you wanna be so much like yourself, that it makes you feel all crazy about it. 

So you tell him that, in a sort of a way. You say, “I’ll be honest, Johnny, I’m feeling like something a little stronger,” and he smiles real big at that.

_________

Then you’re in another bar, and it ain’t the bar you said you didn’t wanna be in, but it is a bar that’s full of Vandals still.

Well, not full, guess you could count five of them if you wanted to. Six including Johnny. And they are all hanging about in that one back corner, while you and him got a standing table somewhere in the middle, so you figure he’s not really broken his promise all the way. Just twisted it a little. Plus with the noise of the place, you can hardly make them out above the rest of it, so you set your eyes on him and forget about them. Who knows, right? This whole town could be swarming with those biker guys, but you ain’t never noticed it before cause you ain’t never noticed him before, and that’s not exactly his fault, is it? 

He’s standing real close to you too now, to the one side of you, instead of opposite like in the pizza place, and you can feel the heat coming off of him like fire. Like those big ones in your Grandpa’s house at Christmastime. All flame and soot and crackling warmth that you wanna put your hands into. 

Something about it makes you a little erratic, makes you blurt out another question with even less manners than usual. And it’s a real mood killer too, “So why’d you get divorced?” you say. 

You asked him that, you really did, and while he’s thinking about how to take it, you drink down half your beer in one big stinking gulp. If your mother could see you now? Jeez.

“You really gonna ask me that before I’ve even…?” He points to the beers, well his beer, cause yours is still in your hands like you’re scared he’ll take it from you. “C’mon,” he says.

He’s got a point, sure, but also you been here a minute and it don’t seem like it’s your fault that he hasn’t taken a drink yet. Too busy smoking one of them cigarettes again, and smirking at you like he finds your dumb mouth all kinds of charming, when he should be judging you like a real gentleman would. 

“You don’t gotta tell me,” you say, shrugging with it.

“Hm.” Another answer without answering—and this time, it kinda sorta bothers you.

He puts the smoke between his fingers, to take a long sip of his beer, and you find yourself reaching across to take it from him. Not a smoker, but you can smoke if the company does, you know. Which happens to be a lot at work, cause those office guys go like chimneys when they’re thinking, on and on and on, until the room’s full of the stuff. And then you don’t even need to have one yourself because you’re puffing it as much as they are, right, but it’s nice to feel included still.

This time, you’re only doing it to give you something to do, and give him something to look at while he thinks so much about all the things he don’t wanna tell you. Which seems to be doing the trick just fine.

“Didn’t work out,” he says, right when you think he’s over it, didn’t work out. “That’s all it is.”

You tap the ash off, feeling him stare as you take a drag and blow it away from him. “Well if your girls like you still, that must be most of the truth.”

“Nah, that’s it. That’s the whole truth, nothin’ else.”

“Alright then.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

He’s getting antsy, prickly all over again. “I believe you,” you tell him, looking at him all serious like, his face right there next to yours. “Marriage is a crazy complex thing, right? I guess I always assume it takes more than ‘didn’t work’ to put it to bed, but if you say yours didn’t, then it didn’t. Who am I to know?”

He doesn’t nod or do nothin, he just squints back at you and says, “Were your parents divorced?”

You laugh, and it’s sort of rude, cause it’s right in his face. Probably felt the gust of it straight into his mouth. “There you go, treating me like a kid again,” you explain, and he frowns like he don’t get it. Funny, all that wisdom in his big old head, and he can’t seem to work out what you mean. “You figure I couldn’t be old enough to have a marriage of my own? Had to ask about my parents instead?”

And you got him, caught him with his hands all red, cause he gets fidgety with it. “Well have you?” he asks.

You pout to hide your smirk. “No.”

Then his frown is swapped clean out for a laugh, and that smile that you’re sorta growing fond of. “So, just cause I didn’t know that about you, yeah, I’m treating you like a kid, am I?”

“Yeah.” You’re leaning in real close now, shoulders touching and everything. “I would’a liked it if you thought I could’ve had a marriage, and a divorce, just like you, Johnny.”

“Ah, right. Alright.” His head dips a little, and he’s looking all over your face like he’s hungry for every word you ain’t said yet, his voice in almost a whisper. “So how was your divorce?” he asks.

“Oh, awful.” You flash your eyes big, so dramatic. “He took everything I had—and all ten of the kids.” 

He hisses with his teeth, really playing along with it. “That’s a mean fuck right there,” he says, and if you’re honest, you kinda wish you weren’t lying for a sec, cause hearing him say something like that, real ex-husband or not, it kinda does something to you. Makes you giddy in a teenage way. 

“That’s what I told him,” you say back, but you don’t sound serious no more, you’re all breathy and quiet like you’re losing your guts. “Lucky we’re both single again, huh?”

“Lucky," he says, “yeah.”

Boy, you could’ve sworn the whole place went still. Every noise fell away like you were the only two people in there.

And he’s looking at you in that way, the eye contact, you know, in that real eatable way that makes you want take him home right now, or better yet, right into the bathrooms at the back of the bar there. But that’s crazy talk. That’s really real crazy talk. That’s the kind of thing you regret when your heads pounding the next day, and you don’t remember how that tap shaped bruise got onto your asscheek, never mind wether or not you’re seeing the guy again.

So, being good about it, you move your eyes from the door to the group of guys you been ignoring this whole time, and you ask him, “So when are you gonna introduce me to your little friends?”

He goes like a statue—minus his forehead, of course, that thing scrunches up like he lost you for a minute and he’s having to really squint just to see you again. “What I gotta introduce you to them for?”

“They’re your family, ain’t they?”

He holds his hand out, and it takes you a second to realise he’s asking for the cigarette back, the one that’s nearly gone, burning away in your fingers still. You give it to him, half thinking to apologise for wasting it, but he just plops it right back into his mouth like it’s nothin. He gets one pull out of it and then smushes it, dead, into the ash tray. “S’a lot, for a second date, no? Meeting the family.”

You laugh almost. “You counting last night as the first?”

“I’m counting pizza as the first,” he says.

You can’t help it, you’re still smiling at him, and blushing a little too. “Something bout that feels like you’re cheating me outta what I deserve.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” he says, all careful like, “we can count this whole night as the first, if you want, but I don’t bring first dates to the club either.”

“Fine.” He wins. “Then let’s call this one the second, whichever way you wanna look at it, and I still wanna meet ‘em.”

“Nah. Not—not today.”

For the first time in your life, you don’t feel like pushing until you get what you want. He’s still messing with the butt of that cigarette, spinning it round and round in the ashtray, so you figure he got a reason behind that skull of his, and a good one too.

Well, you’re willing to pretend like he might, anyway. 

“Okay. How about some names then? So I know who to picture when you’re telling me your stories.”

His lip quirks up. “You wanna hear my stories?”

“Oh, all of ‘em.” You nudge him, elbow to elbow, and drop your head onto your shoulder, in that real cute way that makes your hair bounce, just to look at him. “Please, Johnny?”

He lets go of the smoke with a sigh that doesn’t really mean what he wants it to mean, and crosses his arms on top of the table. “One on the lefts Corky,” he says, nodding that way. “Then Wahoo, Cal, Cockroach.”

You follow his direction, all good and quiet and listening, and put the names to the faces as best you can. Only then he stops and you have to poke him, “And that tall movie star on the end?”

He waits like he’s thinking about it. “That’s Benny.”

“Just Benny?”

“Yeah. Just Benny.”

But that don’t make no sense to you, cause all these guys are never just anyone, unless they’re someone important, you know, everybody’s got something in a club like that. “He don’t got some funny name too?” you ask, and Johnny shakes his head. “Why not?”

“Cause he don’t need nothin—he’s just, some people are just…” He shrugs, screwing his brows a little. “He’s just Benny.” 

“And you’re just Johnny.”

Who’s just humming in reply now, saying yeah without using his words cause he don’t need to, and you keep letting him be about it.

“Well,” you start, now that neither of you are looking at those Vandals no more, “what name would you give me?” 

He doesn’t even try. “I dunno,” he says. 

“C’mon, Johnny. I know you know, if you thought about it, you probably named all those guys.” Minus Benny. Just Benny.  

He groans like you’re really troubling him by asking for it and reaches for another smoke from his pack. “Let’s see,” he says. Now he’s thinking. “I guess, something short.” The lighter flashes by his chin then goes away again in a snap. “Something like Lips.” 

First time he’s left you speechless. Really cotton mouthed and speechless. “Lips?” you repeat, and you hate to say it, but you’re almost squeaking. Lips?

“Mhmm.”

“Why’s that?” you ask him, more serious now than you have been this whole time, so close that you could burn your nose on the end of his cigarette. “And don’t say cause they look nice.”

“Even if it’s true?”

You laugh like you can’t believe it. “I don’t care if it’s true, that’s not the answer.”

This guy, he has the nerve to smirk like he’s winning, and he shouldn’t be doing none of that until he can give you a real good reason. “Alright.” He lifts his shoulders a little, all innocent like, with the smoke snaking up between you. “Then it’s cause you, you know, you…”

“Yeah?” You nod, pulling it out of him. “Go on.”

“You like to talk a little, you know.”

“Oh, I do?”

“Yeah, you do.”

And you’re not offended but it keeps going like you are, with a laugh stuck behind your teeth. “Always going on, am I?”

He smiles, easy like he’s not even got to try no more. “Got some real lips on you,” he says. 

You snort, big—so attractive, puffing it out your nose like that—and set your head on your hand. Elbow going right into some sticky spill of God knows what, too. “I don’t know if I hate it, or love it,” you tell him. “Feels like an insult and a compliment all in one.”

He points with his smoking finger, but not much cause he knows how close you are, just like you know how close he is. So aware of it, it’s making you breathe funny. “That’s how you know you got a name,” he says. “Half the guys, yeah, they hate what they get called, but no-one ever says anything about it.”

“Well we know I will,” you tell him, and then you’re both laughing. Real close, real warm, laughing like you’ve known each other years, not days—and Hell, it ain’t even that. You guys only just hit the twenty-four hour mark. It may be the most successful date-slash-dates that you’ve ever had, and it’s not even over yet. You don’t even have the guys full name or number.

“Your beer’s going warm, you know.”

Oh. You haven’t even touched it, or thought about touching it, since you started that whole thing about his divorce. But his own bottle goes up and back, then down again, empty, all while you’re watching him do it. So you push him yours after, letting him finish that one too. 

“You better get me a new one, then,” you say, while his lips are on the end still, cause you haven’t had enough of him yet. “Unless you wanna take me home?”

He stops for a second, half-way about to leave with a money clip already in his hand, just to look at you with a sort of smirk, sort of curious thing in his eye. Then he says, all low and cool with it, “That code for somethin?”

Well, you feel like you made a monster. He’s starting to get all sorts of familiar and now you’re him, you’re the wolf in that damn bar. 

“No,” you say, sounding like the liar that you sorta feel like you are, “it’s whatever. I didn’t say you’d be coming in now, did I?”

He laughs out his nose and nods like you said everything he wanted to hear, though really, you’ve got no idea what he wants from you. No other man you’ve ever said that to has cared to ask what you mean by it, even if you wanted it to be something or not, they always assumed it was meant the way they wanted it to mean, but not Johnny. Johnny looked more scared by the idea than he looked excited. Like he thought he was about to have to let you down all gentle like, slow and careful so your feelings didn’t get hurt. 

“I’ll get us some more,” he says, leaving for real that time, and his hand’s on your back until he’s too far away for his fingers to reach. 

It’s only when he’s gone that you figure he must’ve told all those guys to ignore you and him, just like you’d decided to ignore them, cause the second he’s gone they’re looking right over at you. Wahoo, Corky, all of them, but not that Benny. He either don’t care or hasn’t noticed, and for some reason or another, that makes you like him the most. Only one of them that can keep his eyes on his own nose and outta your business. The rest are bold enough to stare like you don’t see them, even talking and laughing the way boys do when the teacher goes for more chalk.

You try not to care but it’s starting to really itch. You’re rubbing your arms like they’re crawling all over you. 

“Here."

And Thank God he’s back. You take the beer and drink it like you’ve had nothing but sand in your mouth for days, which makes Johnny smile like you’re crazy, but you keep going. “That family of yours got no manners,” you tell him afterwards.

He doesn’t even look. “Yeah, yeah they’re like that,” is all he says about it. What a hero, right? He takes a sip of his own drink then wipes his lips dry with the back of his hand, and he catches you staring at him, but he says nothin about that neither. “You doing anything on Friday?” he asks.

“No.” Then you’re smiling and forgetting all about the rabble in the back. “Well, I wasn't until right now, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

He nods. That’s exactly what he’s getting at. Seems like he’s thinking to take up your whole calendar, one day at a time, and you’re not feeling like doing a damn thing about it. Go figure.

_____

part three >>>>>

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity @literally-lani

[upsidedownwithsteve]

okay, back at it again with the requests, feel free to toss me to the back of the line I love you

I'm thinking of friends with benefits grumpy!Steve who had a bad day and sunshine!Reader who is starting to catch feelings for him and wants to make it better. potentially along the lines of:

the least toxic version of “I can fix him”

18+

It wasn’t like Steve was ignoring you on purpose. He’d invited you round after all. But his day had went from bad to worse since he left you outside your front door that morning with a kiss, and by the time you walked into his bedroom in the evening, he was already face down in bed.

“Rough day?” You’d asked sympathetically, toeing off your shoes so you could clamber onto the mattress with him.

You received a grunt from where his mouth was pressed to his pillow and you pouted, poking a socked toe into his ribs. Steve’s hand caught your ankle, thumb rubbing over the bone there, but he didn’t make any other move to get you closer. So you shuffled over, sundress dancing over your thighs, rucking up higher and higher as you moved. You pushed at Steve’s shoulder until he relented, rolling onto his back with another long suffering groan that only stopped when you straddled him.

He opened his tired eyes, his hands falling from his face to grasp at your bare thighs, a sure sign that he wanted to keep you exactly where you were. You smiled down at him, too happy, squirming against in his lap for good measure. It didn’t take long for you to feel his cock kick up against the lace of your underwear in interest, half hard already, as sleepy as he was.

Steve pouted, “honey—”

“Oh, he speaks,” you quipped, running your hands from his chest to his tummy, soft with that trail of hair that led into his jeans. You traced a finger down his navel, made his hips buck up a little, out of his control. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

You left the question open ended and up to him, a no pressure start to a conversation that Steve honestly didn’t have the energy for - at least not right now. So he shrugged and looked apologetic.

“Just a really bad day,” he tried to explain. “M’sorry, I’m just crazy stressed about—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted. You leant down and pecked his lips, a sweet and short touch that Steve tried to chase. “You don’t have to get into it right now if you don’t wanna.”

The boy smiled at you gratefully, running his palms up and down your thighs. He squeezed the dough there in thanks and tried to sit up to catch another kiss but Steve frowned when you pushed him back into the sheets.

“Baby, what—?” Steve broke off when you pulled at his belt buckle, popping open the button of his Levi’s. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, Stevie,” you murmured sweetly. Your small hand dipped inside his boxers, fingers wrapping around his stiff cock. You blinked prettily at him, a smile on your face and your bright blue sundress fanning around his thighs. “I can give you head, if you want?”

Steve let out a curse, mouth falling open. You heard him suck in a breath. “Fuck, honey, you don’t need to do that.”

You pouted, eyes glittering because Steve was a sweetheart, but you could see right through him. His cock was throbbing in your hand and when you squeezed experimentally, his head fell back into the sheets, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“What if I want to?”

Another groan, more whiny this time, prettier to hear. “Yeah?”

You nodded, lip tucked between your teeth and you began pumping him in your hand, thumb swirling over the tip. “Yeah, handsome.”

When Steve didn’t argue back, you moved down his legs until you got comfortable between them, tapping at his hip so he lifted up, letting you shuck down his jeans and boxers enough for his cock to spring free. You didn’t tease, not when he was in a mood like this, although the stress seemed to disappear when you lay on your tummy between his spread legs, elbows keeping you up and hands guiding his cock to your waiting mouth.

You licked over the tip of him, tongue flat and eager and Steve immediately fell back onto the bed, hands grabbing at his own hair in fear of pulling yours too hard. “Baby,” he moaned, doing his best to lean up to watch you. You took him into your mouth, tongue flattened against him as you began to suck. “Baby.”

You only released him with an audible pop to drool a little down the length of him, doe eyes holding Steve’s stare as he let out a filthy noise. “Better already?”

Steve could only nod.

[pahtoosh]

Imagine y/n manages to down a cup of coffee while daddies!stucky is trying to calm them down while chasing them throughout the house

ugly shirts and caffeine crazies

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~9800 words

warnings: maybe a little 🤏 too long. baba calls you a brat🫢 daddies take off their shirts later for silly reasons

a/n: thank you, lovely anon for this suggestion! i am actually very sensitive to caffeine myself so this really spoke to me hehe😁 like i cannot drink coffee at all or i will be a bouncing wreck and i can’t have tea after 5pm!! or i wont sleep!! i need my daddies to help me cos sometimes i forget and i get a nighttime boba with my friends and then i don’t sleep until 5am😳

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

summary: Bucky and his baby have a disagreement over a shirt. while baby runs away, they manage to drink Steve’s coffee

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Steve whistled a happy tune as he began making his morning coffee. Because of the serum, he didn’t need the caffeine to get through the day, he just liked the routine. As he waited for it to cool down slightly, he began preparing breakfast.

It was a lovely, quiet morning. The sky was slightly overcast and birds were chirping. Unfortunately, peace in your house could not last for long.

“No! I don’t wanna!”

“It’s your only clean shirt right now, Angel.”

“It’s ugly! I hate it! I hate it!”

“Hey, we don’t use that kind of language here. Now put on the shirt or you’ll be getting a time-out.”

“You can’t make me, Baba!” You escaped your argument with Bucky, dodging past him to run into the living room.

He groaned and followed you out of the room, finding you hiding behind the couch. “Baba’s not messin’ around. Come put on your shirt. Now.”

His strict baba voice should’ve been a warning, but you were not putting on that shirt. The colors were all wrong and the printed design was incredibly thick, making it uncomfortable to wear.

“No! You can’t make me!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

“You have to catch me first!” You ran away again. This time, Bucky chased after you instead of following at a walking pace like before. He almost caught you but you threw a pillow at his face and ran into the kitchen where Steve was trying to ignore your fight.

You froze, not expecting to see your Dada. Just then, Bucky came right behind you and trapped you in his arms. “Gotcha.”

“Noooo!” You squirmed, trying to escape his grip.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh after seeing the two of you. Bucky was out of breath and his hair was messed up, you were half-dressed, and both of you looked so angry at each other while Bucky practically hugged you from behind.

“What’s going on here?”

“This one,” Bucky said, not breaking his staring contest with you. “Is being a little brat and refuses to put on a shirt.”

“Not just a shirt! It’s the ugliest shirt in the whole wide world!”

“We don’t have any other clean shirts for you, remember? You. Have. To. Wear. This. One.”

“I. Don’t. Wanna!”

“God, the both of you are so stubborn,” Steve said.

At the same time, you and Bucky stopped glaring at each other to say “no I’m not” and “nuh uh”.

Steve threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Well, let’s just see this so-called ‘ugliest shirt ever’ and then see where to go from there.”

You nodded. “Yeah! And then Dada will see how ugly it is and I don’t have to wear it!”

“Or Dada will see that it’s just like any old shirt and you have to wear it anyway,” Bucky teased.

“Buck, no.” Steve freed you from your vibranium trap and got down on your level. “I’m gonna help you, okay sweetness?”

You nodded smugly and stuck your tongue out at Bucky. Dada was on your side, not Baba’s.

The three of you made your way to your room. While walking, you noticed your daddies giving each other certain looks. It was like they were having a silent conversation. Maybe Dada wasn’t looking out for you like you thought he was. Maybe he was only saying that to make you stop fighting.

In reality, Steve was making fun of Bucky for his childish behavior and Bucky was silently arguing back, demanding Steve to not tell anyone about this.

No matter what they were talking about, you couldn’t take that risk. You let go of Steve’s hand and ran off again, confusing your daddies.

“What the-“

“Baby, where are you going?”

Bucky put his hands on his hips. “Not so easy, is it?”

Steve groaned. “C’mon, we’ve got a runaway to catch.”

Meanwhile, you were frantically looking for a place to hide. Behind the couch wouldn’t work, Baba found you there last time. Maybe the kitchen! The island was a good size to hide behind and if your daddies came up on one side, you could sneak your way around the island in a circle and they’d never see you.

You went behind the island and sat down, trying to catch your breath. All this running around was making you tired and thirsty. Above your head, you spotted a mug on the counter. You checked to see if the coast was clear and took a sip. And then almost spat it out. It was the worst, most bitter-tasting drink you’d ever had.

Although, it was beginning to make you feel better. You drank as much as you could handle and then put the cup back before returning to your hiding spot. You could just barely hear your daddies looking for you in the living room over the sound of your own heartbeat.

“Where could they be?”

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to- wait, do you hear that?” Your daddies halted their movements.

You placed a hand over your nose and mouth, hoping that the air purifier in the living room was enough to distract them from the sound of your breathing.

Bucky sighed. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just find that little troublemaker and then we can get on with our day.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Catching you was a very, very difficult task. Your hatred for the shirt combined with the energy from the coffee allowed you to beat out two supersoldiers. Steve and Bucky were exhausted, both of them laying on the living room floor while you jumped from one hiding place to another.

“What’s gotten into them?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to think we’re not winning this fight. I mean, our baby’s running circles around us.” He looked at Steve. “Think it’s time to throw in the towel?”

“Ugh, maybe. It’s kind of embarrassing that our adversary is screaming and dancing around the house while we’re just trying to catch our breath,” Steve joked.

“We’re getting too old for this.”

“Ya got that right, pal. I’m gonna go drink my coffee. Hoping it’ll give me a second wind.” Steve got up and went to the kitchen. When he saw his partially empty mug, he connected the dots and facepalmed.

“Buck, we’ve got a problem.” He returned to the living room. “That little sneak drank half a cup of black coffee.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he sat up. “How?”

“I guess I left it on the counter? And they were hiding in the kitchen for some time so..”

One of your giggles cut through the tense conversation.

Bucky sighed. “Alright, I’m done fighting the beast. It’s team no shirt until that laundry machine gets fixed.” He got up off the floor and brushed off his hands before taking off his shirt.

Steve laughed. “What are you doing?”

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Your two shirtless daddies met you in your playing room. You were hiding behind the coloring table.

“Are you in here, sweetheart? Daddies are here to throw in the towel- or shirt, I guess.”

“You win, babydoll.”

You carefully peeked over the table. “You tellin da truth?”

“Yeah. Look at us, team no shirts just like you. Can you come out now? We missed being with you all morning.”

You squealed and ran to hug them, bouncing excitedly. “Yay! Yay! Yay! Now we all don’t wear shirts! Can we do this all the time? ‘Cause then we don’t wear shirts and then we only wear pants and then when we don’t wear shirts we don’t have to wash shirts and then we don’t have to fold shirts and then we only have to wash and fold the pants and that’s so-“

“Woah, woah there. You’re talkin’ so fast, your mouth is about to fall off,” Bucky said.

You gasped and held a hand over your mouth.

Steve poked him in the side. “Baba’s only joking, baby. No mouths are falling off. But we do have to fix the problem of you drinking coffee.” He held your shaking hands. “Do you feel different right now? Maybe super energetic and excited or nervous?”

You kept bouncing on your feet. “YEAH! I feel like I can run forever! And I can run fast! And I can talk fast and my heart goes fast too!”

“Yeah, it’s fun for a little bit but it’s not good to feel like this for too long. We’re gonna take you to Uncle Bruce for a little check-up, okay? Maybe he can help get you back to normal.”

“OKAY DADA! Can Uncle Bruce be team no shirt too?”

Steve sighed. “I forgot about that, I don’t think we’re allowed down there without shirts on.”

You tried breaking away from Steve’s grasp, but he learned his lesson and was not letting you go.

“I not wear da ugly shirt! No, no, no!”

“Please, baby? Just for one hour?”

“NOOOO!” You stomped and turned every which way, trying to free yourself.

Bucky looked down at the floor, trying to wonder how you all got into this mess when he got an idea.

“Angel? What if you wear Baba’s shirt, hmm? It’s not as ugly as your last shirt, I hope.”

You stopped squirming. “Maybeee.”

“Just try it and if you don’t like it, we’re bringing a baby in a blanket down to Uncle Bruce.” He carefully put the shirt on you, starting with the neck hole and pulling the sleeves over your arms.

You marveled at the feeling of the soft, lightweight fabric. The sleeves were extra long, letting you curl your hands up inside them. Best of all, it smelled like your Baba.

“I love it! I love it soooooo much! Oh! Can I wear your shirts all the time, Baba? I promise I give them back! And Dada too! I wear Baba’s shirt today and Dada’s tomorrow! And the next day is Baba and the next day is Dada and the ne-”

“We’ve gotta see Bruce.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

One check-up later, Bruce gave you a special medicine to cancel out the effects of the caffeine. You were now tired from the whole ordeal of running away from your daddies all morning.

After lunch, the three of you cuddled on the couch. You read a couple of books and took a nap. Nap time was especially cozy with both your daddies there and because you were still in Bucky’s shirt.

Eventually, the laundry machine would get fixed, but you still loved wearing your Dada and Baba’s shirts from time to time. You insisted that you all trade shirts because it was so fun. Usually, it’d just be you wearing one of your daddies’ shirts, but sometimes you could initiate a three-way trade and see one of your daddies wearing your shirt. It was so funny seeing a super soldier wearing a t-shirt with a dinosaur riding a bicycle on it, especially when the shirt was a size or more too small.

[schoenpepper]

Breakfast (Dove Cameron)

Intro: Trey spends a night with you, knowing full well he'll regret it all in the morning when he's left staring at empty sheets.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread i just wanna get these over with tbh, one night stands and kinda shmexy times, cussing im not a good gurlypops, reader kinda a hoe ngl

A/N: Good boy Trey yes yes yes yes

Masterlist

Your smoke in my hair

Hot and dirty like the L.A. air

That face, baby, it ain't fair

But you don't know what you don't know

What you don't know, uh

"You look so cute like this, right underneath me, hm~?" When you coo so softly in that sweet voice of yours, Trey is gone. His mind blanks and his bones soften into the mattress. He focuses on everything but you; the sound of cars honking down the street by his shitty apartment, the smog clouding his window, the feeling of linen sheets crumpled in his clenched fists, the smell of cooling blueberry muffins on the countertop. It's overwritten by you, and now your beautiful face is all he sees, your scent is making everything hazy, your hands are slowly gliding down his bare chest and he wants to either hold you close or push you off. He's not left with much of a choice when you straddle his lap and trail your lips from his neck up to his ear, nibbling on the skin.

"Good boy. Stay still for me."

Fuck, your praise gets him impossibly hard, but he's too stubborn to let his voice leak. He doesn't want you to know the control you have over him. When you grind down on him so ridiculously slow, his hips buck up uncontrollably, and there's so much shame tinging his face when he hears you laugh at him. "So impatient. It's okay baby, I'll take real good care of you."

Ooh-ooh, so you wanna talk about power?

Ooh-ooh, let me show you power

Passivity has brought him to the best midpoint of life. As long as he keeps to his close-knit circle of friends and studies hard, he'll be able to get through college with normal grades, get a normal job, find a normal lover, live a normal life. He doesn't like the stress that comes with being extraordinary, no, he's seen enough of that just from Riddle alone. Trey keeps his head down because passivity is his only way to survive.

You stumbled into his Psych class one day and ruined him.

You and your sexy clothing and that tumbler you pretend is filled with coffee but reeks of alcohol. There's something about the way your eyes shine under the LED lights that makes him want it on himself. You're drunk, obviously, when you almost trip twice just trying to get to a seat, the one in front of him. He forces himself to look away from you.

You're trouble incarnate, that he could tell.

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

It doesn't come as a surprise when he finally hears about you from his friends.

"Y/N? They're like a total player, it's insane. Pretty sure they've slept with half the school. They spend one night with someone then up and leave, but they have like, raving reviews, if you know what I mean." Cater comments offhandedly one afternoon when they're crowded around a cafeteria table, off-white plastic trays in hand. Riddle nods at the statement before stabbing his fork through a chunk of meat. "Yes, they are quite infamous. They're also friends with those two troublemakers, the red and blue ones."

"Aren't you red too, nya?"

The shorter redhead huffs and glares at Chenya who had popped up out of nowhere. "I wasn't using it as a slur, it was just a description."

Chenya giggles. "That Y/N is no joke, Trey." He says as he taps on the edge of Trey's glasses. "A nice guy like you should steer clear, okay~?"

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

"Is this seat taken?"

Trey looks up to see you, a charming smile on your face as your hand pats the chair next to him. "It's all yours." He replies. He leaves the conversation there because he wants nothing more to do with you. He focuses back to the professor and his notes.

"And thus, this assignment will have to be done in pairs."

...No.

"Whoever is next to you will be your partner, and remember, it's due next week."

No. No, he can't, he doesn't want to.

He turns to the person on his left, only to find them already chatting up someone else. "Guess you're stuck with me, huh?" You chuckle.

"Ah. My name is Trey Clover." He introduces himself because it's correct, because it's the polite thing to do even though he's aching to just up and leave rather than spend another moment with such a problematic soul—a person who's assertive and actively goes after what they want is not a person he matches too well with. Especially not in the context used for you.

"Y/N L/N. You're cute." He feels something in him shrivel up and die when you're talking. "I think I'll like working with you."

Trey barely restrains himself from physically cringing at your flirtatious wink.

I'm sick, yeah, I'm sick

And honestly, I'm getting high off it

Do you wanna see a magic trick?

'Cause you don't know what you don't know

But I know

You're not completely awful.

You're surprisingly smart, and your comments and opinions about the topic of your shared assignment hit all points dead center. He can find a way to peacefully coexist with you and be just another side character in your life, fade away in the background and be forgotten. He likes it better that way. He treats you as a decent study partner.

"Hello? Earth to Trey?"

You wave your can of cold brew in front his face. Perhaps because you'd noticed his distaste towards your favorite beer (or alcohol in general), it seems you've swapped it out for egregious amounts of coffee. It's a step in the right direction, he thinks. At least you won't be drunk in public anymore.

"Yes, sorry, where was I?"

The pen in your other hand taps on a word in the book laid out in front of him. Trey nods and pushes down the urge to push you away (or pull you closer), opting to type away in his laptop as he used the book as reference. "The library's going to close soon, we should meet up again tomorrow."

You nod and reply. "Okay, I'll see you at 10, will that work for you?"

"Sure, and..." He doesn't understand why he's doing this. "If you want, I can give you some pastries as snacks for our study session? I like to bake whenever I'm free."

You smile at him cheerfully. "I'd love that."

Ooh-ooh, so you wanna talk about power?

Ooh-ooh, let me show you power

Trey watches you snap up another macaron from the plate, and he flicks your forehead harshly. "Hands off the cookies, L/N."

"But Trey~ They look so yummy!" You pout at him very convincingly. He holds onto the last of his sanity and shakes his head, but he pops a biscuit in your mouth as consolation. You seem satisfied enough and get back to decorating the cupcakes with sparkly little heart sprinkles. After the assignment, you refused to let him play wallflower and called out to him in the halls as you passed by. He never ignores you. Eventually, greetings turned into coffee into studying together into watching movies and now he's in the kitchen of his small studio apartment baking things with you for Cater's birthday party. You're a good friend. The fact that your body count is likely in the triple digits doesn't matter when you two are just friends.

"You wanna go to mine this weekend? Some of my roommates are planning to throw a wicked party, and I want you to be there."

"I don't know, Y/N, you know parties aren't my thing."

"Oh lighten up, Clover." You laugh, picking up the piping bag to get to work on the next batch of cupcakes. "If you really don't vibe at the party we can just chill in my room. That new movie you like just came out, wanna watch it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "It's not on streaming platforms yet, is it?"

You shoot him a grin.

"Not legally, no."

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

The party is just as he expected; loud, dark, and boring as hell. He does his best to swim his way out of the sea of slick and sweaty bodies grinding against each other, promising himself mentally to take a thorough rinse in your room's shower to get back to feeling himself. Because right now, he feels like a new, unworn lost sock inside someone's pile of dirty gym clothes. He finally spots you at the edge of the crowd, like you're light at the end of the tunnel.

But you're not alone.

Some girl is all over you, practically drooling while you're nursing a cup of iced coffee.

Why does he feel awful, all of a sudden?

When your eyes find his own, you give him that signature charming smile, shrugging the scantily-clad girl off your shoulder and tackling him in a hug that made some of your coffee spill on the floor. "Trey, you made it! Oh, you look winded. Let's go to my room and get you settled."

"Excuse me?" The girl you left behind has a voice reminiscent of a fork being dragged across the surface of a balloon. You turn towards her and he catches a glimpse of an expression he'd never seen on your face before. One of cold annoyance, of freezing apathy that seemed generally unfit for someone like you, someone who's usually so bubbly and perky. "Do you have a problem?"

"My problem is that you're setting me aside for this nerd, baby, don't you miss me? What, is he your new target? You know he won't even be a good fuck."

He watches the cold anger bubble into lava-hot rage in your irises, spilling out through your lips as you glared at the lady. "First of all, I don't miss flings, darling, you're one of far too many. Second, Trey is not my target. He's my friend, you useless fucking bimbo! And third!" You look at Trey, pointing at his face. "This man is definitely a good fuck! I bet he's absolutely packing and you only wish you could get a taste of this fucking hunk!"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

He's still frozen in place when the girl runs off in tears, and you sigh as you place one hand on your hip, the other bringing the cup of coffee up to your mouth.

"Sorry Trey, past mistakes, you know how it goes. Anyway, let's go watch that movie."

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

The little wallflower is wilting.

Trey thinks he might be sick. Literally? Figuratively? He doesn't know. But he's probably sick. He has to be. Golden hazel eyes flit back to you. You're sleeping so soundly atop his chest, cuddled up to him with your arms splayed out on your sides. He has his own arms wrapped loosely around you with one hand reaching up to play with your hair as your face smooshed into his chest. He wonders if you can feel his heart beat. It's a little faster than usual because he's thinking about how easy it would be to lean down and...make a mistake. It would be a mistake. You would be upset. Would you assume that he also saw you as nothing but a sex fiend if he tried to kiss you? He knows you've been making an effort to change bad habits recently, and he's been spending enough (too much) time with you that he knows you haven't had sex with anyone in a long while.

He leans his head back on the pillow.

When did this friendship start to rot and burn in his heart? When did it start to regrow and bloom into something so very not platonic? He wants to kiss you. He wants to hold you tighter. He wants to strip off all his clothes and reservations about you and find out why all the people you've slept with once upon a time keep crawling back, and he wants to have that for himself for the rest of forever.

It would destroy your friendship.

It would destroy him.

He settles for kissing the top of your head. For now, it's enough. But he knows it won't be enough for him forever.

He wants to love you.

You've been treated too roughly by the world, won't you let him take care of you? Be kind to you, the way you deserve? 

Would you let him love you?

Passivity has always brought him to the best midpoint of life. But fuck, he doesn't want to be at the midpoint. He wants you. And you, you're not in the middle, you're never there. You're out of his reach because he knows you're always moving forward, while he's always been stuck at the same place. If he throws away the ideals he's held for far too long, can he reach you?

Would you love him too?

I eat boys, I eat boys

I eat boys, I eat boys

He knows his friends disapprove of you. He can feel Riddle's stone cold glare, Chenya's dumbfounded gaze, and Cater's blank stare. "What? Are you serious, Trey?!" Cater snaps out of his daze and immediately gets to shaking Trey by the shoulders. "We told you Y/N's bad news! So you buddy up with them and then—" He lowers his voice to a hissy whisper. "—Then fall in love with them? Are you crazy?"

"This isn't like you." Riddle adds with a sigh. "You're usually more rational than this. Mature."

Yes, but there was never anything rational about love, right?

"Mya, you're really serious?!" Chenya breaks out into fits of laughter, patting Trey's shoulder. "That kinda person is really bad news for you. They'll swallow you whole and spit your bones out clean."

Trey pushes off Cater's hold on him as he finally replies to his friends. "I didn't mean to do it. It just kind of happened. And now I need advice."

"Block them."

"Ignore them."

"Avoid them."

"Advice on how to get Y/N to fall in love with me." He says, glaring at the trio.

"If you want my honest thoughts, I think Y/N is just not the kind of person made for commitment. They'll likely sleep with you for one night and then never show up again, like all the times they've done so before." Riddle takes a sip of his tea.

"Y/N isn't like that anymore."

"Oh no, Trey's down bad." Cater shakes his head. "We all assume we're the exception in the Wattpad love story and think we can fix that person. But what if that person doesn't want to be fixed?"

Chenya nods. "Or what if they can't be fixed?"

"They don't need to be fixed." Trey stands up and packs his bag. "Whatever, I should've known you guys would be no help."

"Hey, calm down!" Cater raises both hands, as if in surrender. "How about this, we will help you out, okay?"

Your smoke in my hair

Hot and dirty like the L.A. air

That face, baby, it ain't fair

But you don't know what you don't know

What you don't know

So how did he get here?

Sparkly eyeshadow and tiny rhinestones on the corner of his eyes, an emerald green low v-neck silk shirt with bubble sleeves, black slacks and a black leather belt. His finger scratches at the layered silver necklaces dripping down his clavicle and he shoots the three a questioning look. "What is this?"

"We're going to the club!" Chenya replies cheerfully.

"And how is this meant to help with my Y/N problem?"

Cater raises up his phone. "You pretend to be drunk at the club, we call them on your phone to pick you up, you can tell them your feelings when you're alone and if they reject you, you can pretend it's just drunken rambling. But if they accept your feelings, then yay!"

"Okay, but why is Riddle here?"

Riddle shrugs. "Moral support. I won't touch a drop of alcohol, though."

Thus, the plan was settled.

He's still uncomfortable with all the bodies grinding on each other, and he's forced to turn away far too many people coming onto him. His friends tell him it's because his charm was out on full swing tonight, but he still thinks they're just blinded by the spotlights and inebriated by the amount of alcohol they'd already consumed. He orders a drink at the bar to at least be tipsy when the plan is in motion.

"Hello? Trey?"

Your voice on his phone speaker echoes through the vandalized tiles of the club bathroom. Cater giggles. "Hi, this is Y/N, right? We're in the Deck of Cards club with Trey and he's like, silly drunk. Can you come pick him up please? We're calling an Uber but his apartment's in another direction and he might be kidnapped with the state he's in." Trey knows you care too much to say no.

"I'll be there in ten."

When you arrive at the club, he thinks you're as mesmerizing as the day he first saw you, even though you're only in a set of black sweats. But maybe that's just the tequila talking. "Trey, are you alright?" You cup his face and he nuzzles into your touch.

"I'll take you home, okay?"

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

You drive him back in silence. He's worried that you don't find him attractive in the getup  his friends had forced him into, but he's satisfied enough by the way you help him up the stairs to his apartment and settle down on his bed. He can hear you clinking away in the kitchen and coming back to him.

"You're gonna have a nasty hangover tomorrow." You chuckle softly while popping a pill into his mouth, followed by lifting the glass of water to his lips. He takes small sips and watches you put it away. "Why were you out clubbing tonight? That's not like you."

"I needed to get drunk."

"Why?"

Trey looks at you. "Because I did something stupid."

"Oh? And what's stupid enough to get a goodie little two shoes like you drunk?"

He takes your hand and tugs you closer to himself. He can hear loud, fast heartbeats, and you're too close for him to tell whether it's his or yours. "I fell in love with someone who fucks and runs." You burst out into laughter, and he's fearful that you're taking his words as a joke. The fear fades away when your hands wander down the dip of his shirt, a mischievous smirk forming on your pretty lips. "Lucky you, I guess. I'm a changed person now."

Trey finally understands Cater's words about you having raving reviews from your previous nightly escapades.

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

When he wakes up the next day, he's sure you're gone. The side of the bed you'd borrowed for the night is still slightly warm, so you must've escaped just a few minutes ago. He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his short green hair, patting around to try to find his glasses. His movements stop when he hears something sizzle in a pan. The smell of bacon reaches his nose the same time he puts his glasses on. Trey only has to sit up to see whether it's a hallucination or not.

He doesn't really want to.

When his hopes are dashed, what's left?

It's you.

In his stupid, frilly Hello Kitty apron, humming a stupid pop song under your breath as you swayed your hips and bobbed your head. You're mixing what he assumes to be pancake batter while his broken-down espresso machine is whirring on its last legs and making coffee for two. You stayed. That's strange, it's weird, it doesn't fit your player persona but fuck he's so glad you stayed. It rekindles the hope in his heart that maybe, just maybe, you saw him differently from all your other flings. You notice he's awake and bounce over to him in a bubbly manner he thinks it's too early in the morning for.

"Good morning, sunshine!" You beam at him and lean down to kiss his lips, still mixing the batter. "You woke up at the perfect time. How about you get your plates out and set the table? I'm making bacon, pancakes and eggs."

Somehow, he doesn't know how, he can see a future with you by his side. Just like this.

An 'I love you' was never said, but he can taste it in your pancakes.

[pablitogavii]

i need a gavi imagine. You guys are kind of swimming together and he looks at you in a bikini the whole time he gets a boner and wants the reader's attention but she decides to tease and ignore him. He is horny all day and he presses his cock to her butt but she ignores him and goes to pedri. 2 hours later he goes into the bathroom and masturbates but the reader bursts in at the moment he cums. reader just smiles and leaves. at night the reader feels gavi bucking his leg and sucking her breasts. then both have you know what.

thanks

I'll change it up a little bit but hope you still like it :)

It was finally a weekend off for the Barça players, and you all made plans to go to the beach together, all the players and their girlfriends.

You and Pablo are the youngest relationship (plus youngest people) so it was a little nerve wrecking to meet all the girlfriends for you.

First challenge was choosing the right bikini...you had so many but none of them suddenly looked good enough. Ugh! You knew how much Pablo loved to see you in red, so you chose one of the newest red bikini you received in a PR package.

"Are you ready amor?" Pablo called as you put on a white cover up dress and grabbed your beach bag joining him downstairs in the kitchen.

"Yes, I am. You packed the snacks and drinks?" you ask but he was too busy looking at your body to reply until you walked up to him and raised his chin up to face you.

"Yeah..all the drinks are in the cooler. And snacks are here. I added extra ice too" Pablo finally replied and you gave him a mischievous smirk wondering how he will react when he sees the bikini if he was getting so distracted with your dress...

Pedri and his girlfriend picked you two up and you drove to the nearby beach where you met with the others. Everyone was there enjoying some relaxing time while chatting and joking around.

"I wanna go swimming! It's freaking hot here!" Ansu said after barely fifteen minutes and all the boys immediately agreed having too much energy to sit in one place.

You girls on the other hand were drinking your cocktails and chatting so you decided to join a little later. You got up to take off your dress because it was truly too hot to sit in it and you wanted to get a tan while you were there.

Pablo was taking off his shirt getting ready to join the boys when he saw the res bikini hugging your body so perfectly that his knees got weak at the sight of you.

"Put some sunscreen on your face, amor" you remind him smirking when you saw that he was checking your out from head to toe. You purposefully bended down to get the sunscreen from your bag giving him a perfect view of your ass. Boy was enjoying himself adjusting his shorts as you got back up.

"Here you go.." you tease noticing his growing bulge and he took the cream but grabbing your wrist as well pulling you in to whisper something in your ear.

"Tu bikini me está volviendo loco, amor.' [Your bikini is driving me crazy, love] he whispered into your ear and you moved away only pecking his lips when he wanted a long make-out session instead so he groaned in frustration.

"GO play with the boys, amor..I'll see you later ;)" you wink at him and he clenched his jaw walking away but still turning to catch one las glance of you before getting into the ocean.

"Your bikini is gorgeous girl!" Ansu's girlfriend complimented and you smiled sitting down besides her grabbing your drink and joining the conversation.

Pablo certainly thinks so...you thought to yourself mischievously thinking to yourself how much you want to tease your boyfriend today.

After about half an hour, you girls got hot too so you decided to join the boys in the water. As you walked towards the ocean, Pablo was quick to notice and open his arms inviting your to swim to him which you gladly did.

The cold water on your hot skin felt heavenly, and when you finally arrived to Pablo, his arms gripped your thighs and snaked them around his waist so he can hold you against himself.

"Hi Pablito..did you miss me?" you smirk feeling his boner against yourself wiggling a little and causing his hands to grip your ass as his lips found your neck. He could care less that you were in public and that all his friends were around..he wanted you so bad since he saw that bikini!

"Behave..we are not alone" you remind him but he still keeps sucking on your neck until you finally pull away from him completely receiving a frustrated groan. The rest of the crew joined and you were joking around once again talking about anything that came to mind.

Pablo on the other hand was very quiet which was unusual to everyone but you knew the reason behind it the moment his hands snaked your torso and he rubbed his bulge against your bum in the water making sure nobody else can notice it.

"Alright, Imma go tan" you say suddenly and Pablo pouted as you swam away deciding to join you knowing that you can finally be alone for a moment.

You were laying on your stomach your bum in the air tanning your back when a cold hand rested on your cheek making you quickly turn to ensure it was indeed Pablo. When you saw his smirking face you smiled putting your face back down while he kept massaging your ass shamelessly.

"Amor?" he breaks the silence feeling so horny that he could nut in a seconds if you touch him.

"Hm?" you say waiting to hear more of his boyish whining that amused you right now.

"It's boring here...maybe we should go home and do something else?" he suggested and you knew really well why he so desperately wanted to go home all of the sudden. A simple glance to his swim trunks gave you a sufficient answer...he was painfully hard now.

"What else would you wanna do amor?" you play dumb knowing pretty well what he wanted right now but enjoyed teasing him too much to stop.

"You...come on..I'm so horny as fuck

right now" he laid next to you moving his fingers downy our back to your bum while whispering in your ear and you smirked widely.

"You need to learn how to control yourself Pablito...don't be so impatient" you say turning around with that infamous smirk on your lips and he could tell you were enjoying this little torture he's going through right now.

Before he could kiss you and convince you otherwise, one of the girlfriends came back so he excused himself to the bathroom not really interested for anyone but you to see his boner.

"What's up with footballers, are they always horny?" you joke and the girl laughs nodding her head while drying her hair with a towel.

"Yes they are! It's crazy! It'll just get worse, you wait" she said and you rolled your eyes smirking a little to yourself curious to what Pablo was doing in the bathroom for so long...you knew the answer.

"What will get worse?" Ferran joined and she smirked telling him as well and he kissed the back on her neck which was a signal for me to leave and go look for Pablo.

You heard low groans coming from one of the cabins and you could recognize those from a mile away. You carefully snuck inside waiting a few seconds before entering seeing his shocked face with his hard cock between his hand and your dress against his nose.

You smirked coming closer seeing his load spill onto his hand before leaning down and capturing your lips...even when he wasn't with you, he still used your smell to get him off..he was special for sure.

"I'm glad you feel better amor.." you kissed him while "accidentally" brushing your breast against his exposed cock which made the whole thing useless and he was hard once again as you left with a wink.

This is going to be a long day for poor Pablito..

At night, when you finally got back home from the beach, taking your showers and unpacking the bags, you laid in bed together and you noticed Pablo fidgeting next to you.

You expected him to kiss you or so something but when he didn't you smirked turning your back to him and whispered a quick "goodnight". Pablo couldn't sleep, especially with a painful hard on in his boxers, so he just sat there for a few minutes hoping it would disappear but ofc it didn't.

He then laid back down moving closer to you and rubbing his bulge on your ass while his hand went underneath his t-shirt you wore to bed and started massaging your breast causing light moans to escape your mouth.

"Amooor...I've been patient..but I really need you to help me out right now.." he whispered and you started to grind your ass against his cock in a response before turning around in his hold facing his lustful eyes.

You kissed his lips and he deepened the kiss letting his tongue explore your mouth before you pushed him to lay on his back and got up on your elbow.

"Lay back and enjoy amor.." you said seductively to his smirking face before kissing from his lips to his neck, down his naked chest and taking off his briefs before giving him the release he desperately needed. ;))

Hope you liked!

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hello bestie I am ur local simp, and i am on my knees begging for HCs of the greasers dancing with you in the kitchen, my preferences are Darry and Steve i am begging

A/N: Hey there! Thanks for requesting, I hope you don’t mind the wait. They’re a little short, but I hope you enjoy them!!

DARRY CURTIS

You wanna dance? In the kitchen? With Darry?

Oh honey, that’s nothing new, my boy loves to dance with you, especially during those quiet moments in the kitchen <3

Whether it’s in the morning where one of you’s fixing breakfast, or in the evenings when dinner’s been tucked into the oven and you have nothing else to do, Darry will definitely dance with you

He likes any of the slow songs that mean he can hold you close, tucking you into his body as you sway back and forth together and looking into your eyes, those little conversations filled with sweet nothings   

SODAPOP CURTIS

 Yes! I cannot stress this enough, Sodapop loves to dance and would give anything to dance with you

Your dancing is not limited to the kitchen! He’ll dance with you wherever, spinning you around at the drive-in or teaching you a few moves at a diner somewhere while the jukebox plays

He’ll slow dance? But he’d rather more upbeat dances, just cause he’s so energetic

But he’ll take the excuse to hold you close, kiss you gently and smile that smile that totally knocks you off your feet     

PONYBOY CURTIS

I love Ponyoby with all my heart, but you can’t look at the boy and convince me that he doesn’t have two left feet

Like, I just know that both of his brothers and his mom did everything they could to try and fix that problem but it’s entirely unsuccessful

Plus? He gives wallflower vibes, so I don’t think dancing would exactly be his cup of tea especially not out on some diner floor or school dance, I can totally see him standing by the walls with a cup of that terrible punch and one of Soda’s ties around his neck

Having said that, I think he’d make an effort if dancing was important to you, like he’d offer to take you dancing and spin you around every once in a while 

DALLAS WINSTON

The kitchen? Maybe not, Dallas really doesn’t have access to a kitchen that isn’t Buck’s little half-kitchen or the Curtis’ so maybe not the kitchen specifically 

But dancing with you at Buck’s is definitely doable, especially if Dal has a few in his system or it’s not too crowded

Also a firm believer that Dallas has two left feet but it’s not as bad as Ponyboy and he can definitely do a little two-step and shuffle with you

He likes dancing with you because he likes having his hands on your waist, letting them drift as low as he can get away with to then bring you closer for a kiss at the end of the song

JOHNNY CADE

I see dancing with Johnny as like a soft and intimate thing?

So like, just the two of you, spinning and goofing around together when you go out or something, dancing to the Curtis’ radio in their kitchen and stuff

That’s not to say that he won’t dance with you to whatever song is playing over the speakers at the drive-in or to what the jukebox in the corner of the diner is playing, it’s just a lot less likely

But, if you beg and plead and kiss him just enough, I’ll guarantee that Johnny will dance with you, 1000%

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Anywhere and anytime baby, Two-Bit is always going to be more than willing to dance with you

I’m not even joking, literally just say the word and Two will be tripping over his own feet to dance with you, he’s so excited <3

He has absolutely no shame when it comes to humiliating himself in public and I think a part of that factors into his dancing, he doesn’t care who catches you dancing and where you dance 

So yes to the drive-in, yes to the diner, yes to whatever bar you may find yourself in on a date night, and a definite yes to dancing with you in the kitchen

STEVE RANDLE

I don’t know why, but I just feel like Steve would definitely dance with you, no questions whatsoever

I can just see him pulling you in for a quick little two-step whenever you stop by to see him at the DX, claiming that the song that started on the radio just has to be danced to as he pulls you in

Slow songs, fast songs, I just think he’d have a lot of fun dancing with you, no matter what!

And if you don’t think you’re a good enough dancer, don’t even worry about it, Steve’s not going to care and he’ll make you laugh so hard while you’re together that you won’t have time to stress about it   

TIM SHEPARD

Soooooo I have a lot of thoughts when it comes to this greaser and one of the biggest one is how much fun he’d be to dance with-

He’s good at everything, even though he doesn’t look the type to be spinning around on some dance floor, he’s just got some sort of natural talent that makes him look astounding on the floor

Lines dances to slow dances and everything in between, Tim will have no problem dancing with you, especially after he’s had a few drinks and is feeling more laid-back

His hands might drift a little lower than your hips at times, but what else do you expect? He’s a hood! Besides, when you go to chastise him or move his hands, he’ll just give you this little smirk and how could you possibly be mad at that face?

CURLY SHEPARD

Unless he’s in a space where he feels comfortable, I don’t see Curly as someone who would frequent the dancefloor, it’s just not his space

He can do the dances? Would be down to goof off with you when it’s just the two of you? But he’s not big into the dance floor

Kitchen dancing though, that’s really his element and he’ll spin you around so gently, murmuring the lyrics to whatever song is playing while pressing kisses to where is closest to his mouth

10/10 experience, would highly recommend dancing with Curly as you’d feel so adored and appreciated!

[deseraethesimp]

Professor & His assistant

Prof!Simon Riley & Afab!reader

Wanings: A little age gap, oral (fem reciving), pure nsfw

This was kinda short, and I might’ve not spell checked it...

                                         ꧁•⊹٭!!Minors DNI!!٭⊹•꧂

You were always somehow the teachers pet, no matter how much trouble you have gotten into. You decided to be a teacher...Assistant, but it wasn’t to bad, Mr.Riley was very funny once you had gotten close.

You were in your little business casual outfit, and he loved the way it lightly hugged your curves and every imperfection that he needed to touch. Today he was letting you teach a topic you really liked and always talked about, while you were standing at the lecture stand and he was staring where ever he could. you knew it to, the way he secretly drooled over those tits, ass, thighs, face, hair, eyes, ANYWHERE. You were finished, Class was over you were worn out mentally. You put in your air-pods and began listening to music, you bent over to grab your bag and Simon saw a peak of your panties. He knew it was perverted but something about that made him painfully hard, you grabbed your stuff and walked to him. “Mr. Riley?” he looked at you “Yes Y/n?” “today was really fun but I’m worn out” your laugh made him blush a bit. You and him made conversation when he asked “Do you wanna come to my place” you were so confused but you perked up and smiled “Ofc!” you nudged him a bit “are we gonna talk about boys and do each others hair~?” He smiled a bit                                               ~LATER~

You were on your phone listening to music off one airpod, wearing some pj pants and a tight shirt. He was just watching TV, texting someone..You got up and hopped on him “SOoooOO who ya texting that’s gotta be sooo secretive sir?” he heard the music from your airpod and you smiled “Is it a girl” you gasped “IS SHE PRETTY??” you continued questioning him before he finally answered “Its one of my friends from the military before I had to leave” your eyes widened “You were in the military? Is that why your strong, or you have that tattoo? Or your so muscular, o-” he put his hand over your mouth “Never knew you were so curious” he sighed “Yes to all your silly questions” His thick accent..how big he was compared to you, the way he looked at you, how small you were on one thigh. All of this hit you in one wave of arousal and you moved your hips back and fourth one time. Maybe he didn’t notice luckily? You wrapped your hands around his wrist and pulled his hand off your mouth. “Their not silly!” you rolled your eyes “I think as a little teachers pet I could be curious?”  he smiled a little bit “Yeah a little too curious luvie” his hands slowly trecked down to your hips.

You began moving back and fourth slowly, whining softly, his hands moving all around you. Their was a cum stain in your panties now after getting off, Simon pushed you down on the couch. Your back hitting the cushions, he slowly slid off your pants and panties. Your inner thighs and cunt covered in slick and your own cum now, he licked a small stripe up. You clasped your thighs together, ringing his head like a bell hips bucking up “S-sorry I’m super sensi-” He had no time to talk or no way to talk being muffled. He was eating you out like a starved man, Overstimulating you to the brink of seeing outer space. He lifted up cover in every liquid he made come out, he quickly grabbed his phone taking a picture of you. Bottom half exposed in a bra, he had the flash on you covered your face and turned to the side.

He took very good care of you and made you his Home screen but only the face part. With your sweaty hands and messed up hair...He smiled everytime he saw it. He fed you some very good food, you didn’t know what it is but you listened to music and fell alseep after being worn out

BONUS: The next day, even though he didn’t pound your guts like you hoped your legs were still jello. Due to it being your first time being touched by someone who wasn’t your hands. You still think about it in class, though it hurts to walk you still made it. He practically laughed in your face when he looked at you with a shit eating grin.

YALL IM SO FUCKIN PROUD OF MYSELF THIS IS MY LONGEST PEICE OF WRITING TAKING ME 2 FULL HOURS YAYYY!!! - Xoxo Desi Boo

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 6

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | AO3 | playlist

ok, i really love this one; i hope you guys do too!

today's @steddie-week prompts are: together and Hold the Line - TOTO

C’mon, Munson, get your shit together. You’re the music guy here!’ He tells himself. Okay yeah, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s great about expressing feelings. ‘ That’s what the music’s for, dumbass. ’

Eddie spends the rest of the night and into the next morning pouring over what other songs he could add to the B side of Steve’s tape (and what songs he’s gonna use for the Party Tape…he’s gotta have a blank tape around here somewhere…).

He has a couple contenders, he just doesn’t quite know how they fit yet. Steve had a reason or an explanation for each song on his side, so Eddie wants to do the same. Only problem is that the songs that already do remind him of Steve, are ones Steve’s already put onto the A side.

Fuck, has he been telling him his feelings all this time? The first half of Steve’s side of the tape were his go-to songs whenever they’ve hung out together, while Eddie was recovering at his house.

He goes to sleep that morning with a handful of possibilities, but nothing concrete, then is awoken just before lunch by his phone ringing. 

“Shit,” Eddie hops up groggy and disoriented with sleep, but scrabbles down the hall to the phone so Wayne doesn’t wake up.

“Munson residence, the fuck d’ya want?”

“Eddie! Ste– Ok, rude.”

“Rob? What’s up, Birdie?” Eddie scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Steve’s coming back a day early!” Eddie’s hand freezes. “Do you have the tape done??”

“N-no, no I only have three fuckin songs on it! Damn it, I thought you said he was coming back tomorrow!”

“Hence the call telling you he’s coming back early. He’s landing in Indy at noon, will be here by 3, and somehow Dustin’s already found out so now I’m roping you into ferrying Steve’s children to the arcade with us after he’s back.”

“Hey, they’re my children too!” Wait, what? “Wait, I didn’t say that. Why’d I say that? I don’t even want kids.”

“Nope, too bad. You already said it. You and Steve have joint custody of the shitheads.”

“We’re divorced now?”

“You were married in the first place?” Robin snarks back then mumbles, “Didn’t I just have this conversation?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You coming with or what?”

“No, Buck, I gotta finish his tape now!”

“Too bad, you’re coming. And I’m going to tell Henderson you are so he won’t let you back out.”

“Robin don’t you dare-”

What is with her and hanging up on him??

He’d just gotten back to his bedroom door when the phone rings again. Just barely stopping himself from screaming, he goes back to the handset.

“Hello..?”

“Dude. Would it kill you to sound excited?.”

“Henderson, your sarcasm is not appreciated this early in the morning. And why would I be excited about being volun told to pickup you hellions for the arcade?”

“‘Cause you like spending time with your friends, maybe? Now, do you and Max wanna come pick up me and Lucas? Steve will pick up Will and El at theirs, and pick up Robin and Mike on his way.”

“Sounds like you’ve already got everything planned out, Dusty.”

“Your exasperation is not appreciated this late in the morning.”

“...I don’t have to come, you know.”

“But you know you wanna.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. See you at 2:30.”

Just once , Eddie’d like to be the one hanging up on someone else.

Whatever. Looks like he’s got plans this afternoon.

Eddie looks at the clock on the wall above the fridge. Four hours. Now, does he nap, or does he eat and start getting ready?

They’ll probably grab pizza while they’re at the arcade…nap it is.

Eddie wanders back to his room and is out as soon as his head hits his pillow.

—

Miraculously, he wakes up exactly two and half hours later; just enough time for a shower and to get ready before picking up his half the goblins.

He showers, scrunches a majority of the water out of his curls (Steve’d shown him that little trick, would start on about “Eddie, we went over this! You gotta take care of your curls!" and, "They’re so gorgeous and you’re soooo handsome and hot and I totally wanna pull that hair when I fuc—” OKAY maybe that last part was just wishful thinking, but Steve’d definitely have a conniption if he shows up today with flat hair), and gets dressed.

From the extra spluttering their feeble A/C is doing, and the not-at-all refreshing breeze that crawls through his window when opened, Eddie can confirm that it’s definitely too fuckin’ hot out.

He pulls on his most ripped, well loved pair of black jeans, the holes in the knees long since flayed mid-thigh to mid-shin, a sleeveless cropped Metallica shirt, and his vest.

Grabbing up his rings and chain, he leaves a note for Wayne as to where he’s gone, slides his feet into his reeboks, and heads out the door, keys in hand.

He’s just got the back end of his chain hooked around his hip when he makes it to Max’s door.

“Y’ready Red?”

“Just a minute! It’s unlocked!” she calls back through the door (and slightly cracked window over her sink)

“Need any help?” he asks, closing the front door behind him.

“Nope, just gotta get my other shoe on and I’ll be good. Did you bring the van over?”

“I…did not. That’d probably be a good idea, huh?”

Whoops. He spins back around and jogs back across the street to hop in his van. By time he’s parked outside the Mayfield trailer, Max is hopping her wheels over the threshold onto the tiny step outside the door.

“Whatcha want me to do?” He’d learned real quick not to just start doing things for her, no matter how much he assumes they’d help. Max did not like anyone thinking they have to help her with every little thing, so now they all make sure to ask what it is she’d like them to help with before doing it.

“I just need to lock the door and you can help me into the van. You’ll probably have to come back for the chair though.”

“Of course, your highness.” he gives her a low bow while she locks her front door. “Your hand please, m’lady.” 

She rolls her eyes, but takes his hand. 

Max is able to walk across flat areas pretty well and for an OK amount of distance before getting too tired, but the breaks to her leg really did a number on her. 

She’s got steel pins all through her leg, and has just gotten out of her cast so she wants (and needs) to walk more often to get her strength back up, but has her chair to get around much easier.

So until she gets stronger, she needs help going up and down stairs, and will need help getting up into Eddie’s van, but should be okay for a while once at the arcade.

Once she’s settled, Eddie goes back for her chair, loads it into the back of his van, and they’re off to Henderson’s.

He and Lucas are already waiting out front when he pulls up.

“About time.”

“Dustin. It’s literally 2:31. Calm the fuck down.”

“You guys better get all your swearing out before you see Steve again, you know he’ll go all mom on you.” Lucas laughs. “Here, I’ll start. Hey Max, how the fuck are ya?”

They’re all in so Eddie starts off towards the arcade.

“Hey, show some fuckin’ respect for your mother, Sinclair.”

“Shit Eddie, didn’t know you were our goddamn father.”

“Of course he didn’t fuckin know, Steve hasn’t gotten his shit together enough to propose.”

“Damn, alright, calm down”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down! I swear, I’ll put my foot straight up your ass.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuckfuckfuck.”

All four bust out laughing at that, not quite able to catch their breath before one of them is saying some random curse. 

They’re all red in the face from laughing so hard by time they pull into the parking lot between Steve’s beemer and Nancy’s station wagon.

Dustin runs in immediately after the van stops, and Eddie slyly leaves his keys with Lucas so he can lock up after helping Max, heading inside himself

Now, up until the exact moment he saw Steve (2 whole seconds ago), Eddie thought he was taking the whole “Steve Harrington has big sappy feelings for you” thing really well. Perfectly, in fact! 

No freak out, no huge feelings of doubt, just full focus on ‘responding’ to him.

But now, seeing him again after finding this out…It’s a wonder he doesn’t collapse. 

This beautiful, perfect, amazing man standing in front of a whole herd of teens (two of whom are at eye level or taller than he is now) with a scolding glare, hands on his hips, and flanked by the two most badass ladies he knows…wants him.

Eddie Munson.

It still doesn’t seem real.

Eddie immediately wants to be simultaneously on the other side of the planet, and wedged so close to him that they’re basically the same person.

“Pizza in an hour and a half!” Steve yells after the herd as they disperse. Even Robin and Nancy head off toward the skee-ball machines.

“You okay big boy? You look like that trip took a lot outta you.” 

‘Wow, nice one. You just got here and you’re asking him why he looks gross? Great job, Doofus.’ Why does his inner voice sound like Robin?

He looks over, and Eddie sees his face light up. “Eddie!” he breathes, pulling him into a tight hug.

Steve lets him go, and reaches up to rake through his travel-mussed hair. “And yeah, it was fine, always nice to see my grandparents.”

“Yeah, Robin mentioned you needing to go over their will or something? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re—“ he cuts himself off with a half-hearted chuckle, “They wanted to meet with my parents and I to let them know that their estate is being split 50/50 between us when they pass. Like, half to me and half to both of them.”

“Damn. It’s nice to know I’m marrying into money.” Eddie jokes, leaning into Steve’s side to whisper: “Max spilled your secret on the way here; I promise to act surprised when you finally get the guts to propose.” he whispers with a wink.

Steve’s face turns bright red, but he smiles all goofy. Fuck, he’s cute.

“Aw shit, I really wanted it to be a surprise.” He says, his voice getting gravelly with how low he’s speaking. 

It most definitely does not make Eddie flush red himself, nor do his jeans start feeling tighter, thank you.

Steve gently pushes Eddie back, his hand lingering on the back of his arm a moment too long before his fingers trail down and off his elbow. He starts again, back at a normal volume. “But yeah, Richard and Denise were not happy; I was surprised, though. I’m really appreciative that my grandparents would do that for me.”

“Okay, so it was good news! Why the…” Eddie gestures to all of him. “…glum.”

“It was just the plane ride man, I flew from Cali to Indy with a screaming baby next to me. It was hell let me tell you.”

“I bet.” Eddie winces.

“Plus, Robin stole my favorite tape while I was gone so I couldn't even listen to it on the way here. And that’s been like, the soundtrack to my life lately. Felt weird coming home and then not having it in my car already.” he shakes his head “I dunno, it's dumb, but they are my favorite songs.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie nods, his heart in his throat. “Can't you just like, go get it back from her house?”

“She’s ‘gotta find it’.” He sighs, throwing up air quotes around Robin’s flimsy excuse. “Which for her, is code for ‘I lost it.’. It's no big deal though, it’s just music.”

“Nah man, music is important, you can communicate a lot with it.”

Steve just shrugs again, a good ol’ ‘What can ya do?’ , so Eddie pats Steve’s shoulder sympathetically and walks over to the far wall of machines. He leans up against the one that Max is bashing away at and looks around the side, like he’s watching what she’s doing.

“What’re you doing over here? You’re not gonna beat my score, Munson.” she snarks from her perch on one of the arcade’s few padded stools.

“Huh?” He looks at the cabinet. Dig Dug. “Oh. Wouldn’t dream of it, Mad Max, just came over to try and look cool, scope out the scene,” ‘Scope out the scene’?? WHO ARE YOU?? “Don’t mind me.”

She just rolls her eyes, “For some reason, Steve already thinks you’re like the coolest guy in the world. You don’t need to fake it.”

Eddie blinks down at her. “OK, seriously, how do you know so much?”

“I dunno; something about losing one of my senses? Or maybe my brush with death left me wise beyond my years…” she sighs wistfully.

He snorts, “Oh yeah? Then I should be way smarter.”

“Yeah, you should be.” She fights to keep a straight face after that one. Damn that was slick.

“Good one, Red.” he pats her once on the shoulder, then goes back to watching her play. It’s actually pretty impressive being that she’s got brand new coke-bottle glasses she should be wearing.

“I’m not gonna wear ‘em. I look like a doofus when I do.”

“Aw, I thought you just said I was cool!” he pouts.

Her mouth twitches up at that. “No, I said Steve thinks you’re cool. I think you’re a Doofus.”

“Exactly! And if the big man himself thinks I’m cool, then you’d definitely be cool.” He leans in and looks around conspiratorially, “and I have it on good authority that the rest of these goblins think whatever he thinks is cool, is cool too.”

She smiles, and her game bleeps to an end. “Yeah, they all do think he’s like, the greatest ever.”

“And you don’t?”

Her face blushes a soft pink. “Shut up, Munson. How do you know so much?”

He stands up straight and grabs hold of his vest lapels like some stuffy professor. “I’m smart ‘cause I died,” he says in a haughty tone “...or something.”

A couple of unhinged barks of laughter burst out of her. “I’m gonna go with ‘or something’.”

Eddie spends the next hour trying to mess up the other shitheads’ games. 

Smack a wrong button here, a poke under Dustin’s armpit there, general fuckery. 

And every time he and Steve pass one another, there’s some sort of touch. 

He didn’t notice it the first time, thinking Steve really did need to hold onto him while passing behind him. A classic midwestern “Ope, lemme just sneak by ya” just to get close to him.

When he looked back, there was no one at the cabinet behind him.

So Eddie gave it back tenfold the next time he encountered the party’s beloved babysitter.

Walked behind him on his way to where Mike and Lucas were now trying their hand at DigDug, and gently squeezed his hip.

Steve jumped about five feet, but it was worth it when Steve came up to his side later and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s lower back, settling his large palm briefly on the exposed skin of his hip and stomach where it peeked out from under the cropped shirt.

Eddie immediately felt the need to pull his hair up; Fuck is it hot in here?

Bun secured, and Steve gone off to bother Robin and Nancy at the air hockey table, Eddie knew what he was going to do next. 

He left Wheeler and Sinclair to continue to lose to Max, heading toward the water fountain. 

Steve’s standing with his back to Eddie’s path so when he passes, it’s just too easy to reach out, grab a lock of hair, and pull .

He’s rewarded with the sound of a poorly muffled moan (that he’ll be thinking about forever, thanks), and Steve is gifted an unobstructed view of his ass while he bends over to get a drink.

Eddie stands when he hears Steve’s panicked “Robin, can I talk to you a second?”

He comes back to take Robin’s place next to Nancy where they’d been playing two on one with Steve.

After a beat, Nancy says, “I hope you’re ready to have Robin as a permanent third wheel.” She’s still looking forward at the other end of the table.

Hah! That’s hilarious. “Won’t be as bad since you’re the fourth.” Eddie shrugs, then puts his fist out towards her, also looking off to where he can see Steve panicking at Robin.

Nancy’s knuckles knock into his, and he’s never felt closer to anyone in his life.

Only one half of the Harrington-Buckley twins come back, coming up to her girlfriend and linking their fingers behind the folds of Nancy’s skirt.

“Mama Harrington is getting the pizzas now; we’ll go get some tables pushed together, will you herd the cattle?”

“I feel like they’re more like cats. Especially that Max one, she’s got her claws out like, all the time.” Eddie says, half over his shoulder, as he heads off, hunting down the gremlins.

Mike and the elder Sinclair are still nowhere near Max’s high score, Dustin’s getting berated by baby Sinclair over how bad he’s doing at Donkey Kong, Will and El are together at the Polybius cabinet, Max in her chair now at El’s side.

‘ That’s all of them right? ’ Eddie counts them in his head while he looks around. Yep, that’s all of them.

He heads back to the little arcade pizzeria area, freezing in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the open arched doorway.

Every little thing he’s ever noticed about Steve Harrington over the last however many years feels like they’ve just been building to this moment.

Every damn day spent thinking he was the most beautiful person to ever grace the halls of Hawkins High (he is), every story he never believed about how badass he was from the mouth of his oldest adopted kid, every moment he spent shielding each of these people that have become so beloved in Eddie’s life.

Every painful scar, every dreadful day spent healing with Steve at his side, every. Single. Thing. Has built up to this one.

The most mundane of them all. 

The nine most important people in his life, the biggest family he never wanted but now can’t even think about a life without them, sitting around three tiny tables and clamoring over one another for a slice of the pizzas in the middle of them all, being hovered over by Steeeeeve Harrington.

“Careful Mike, don’t put your elbow in Dustin’s face! That thing’s sharp…Max, do you want me to grab you some? What kind do you want? No, Ellie, sweetie, I’ll hand it to her, no powers needed today, okay? Will, which pop do you want, bud, you gotta speak up so Dustin doesn’t drink all the Vernors. Lucas, will you grab some more napkins—no arguments you little shits, everyone needs napkins. Erica, are you good? Okay, good. Ed—where’s Eddie, he needs to eat too…”

Oh.

Oh.

Part 7 here!

yes, i did have the wonder twins playing Polybius.

also, mayfield/munson sibling vibes are so important to meeeeee.

also also, i love max getting adopted by steddie just as much as dustin BUT you cannot tell me she doesn't also have just a lil' crush on steeb.

tagging the lovelies: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium