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[waratah-moon]

MAGS IS GASLIGHTING US

No, you're not going crazy, I deleted Conversations. Why? Because I am currently in the process of writing a formula 1 themed romance book... I know, I know, hold your applause 💅I will be using this still as a writing blog so please stick around! (also follow my insta @mags_is_reading)

I can not wait for you guys to meet Théo and Milly xoxo

[waratah-moon]

Yay! You’re back! I hope you’re feeling better <33 can I request a fic where reader and Eddie want to have a date night but no one is available to watch over gremlin- so Dustin volunteers to help out (even if he doesn’t know anything about kids oops) and when Eddie and reader get back home they see Dustin and gremlin both asleep on the couch.

I absolute adore your writing! Thank you so much <333

girl i have something like this in my drafts, lemme dig it up and finish it!

[waratah-moon]

back again 👌

Guess who’s back….

[waratah-moon]

Hey everyone. I’ll be taking a break from my fics for the foreseeable future. My mental health is at an all time low and work is horrific. At the moment I can’t put any energy into my fics. I’ll leave them up and I might be on here occasionally, but I just don’t want another stress of feeling like I need to constantly update. Right now writing is just not fun - which is extra sad because I love writing. I do have an Instagram if you want to keep in contact (mags_is_reading).

Sorry.

[waratah-moon]

!!!!

Baby’s first code blue today 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[waratah-moon]

i really really really hate this twitter-esque desktop layout. I've put in a support ticket and they'll like "congrats your blog was chosen to test this new thing" like no... not congrats. I hate it.

[waratah-moon]

follow my insta @mags_is_reading!

I'll be posting books I've liked that I've given either 4/5 stars. Feel free to also follow my goodreads, I'd love to connect with more IRL book friends!

[waratah-moon]

Notice: not only do your friends actually like you, they secretly like you twice as much as they let on

[waratah-moon]

My most recent ex was 5 inches and it was the best sex of my life. Ex before that was 8 inches and shit in bed. People aren’t lying when they say “size doesn’t matter, it’s how you use it”

Not sure if anyone has seen this on Tiktok, but it keeps coming back to me when people mention 🍆 size in stories. Fanfic or otherwise.

Girth is also a thing... just saying...

Anyway, I'm just gonna leave this hear for everyone. Thank you for your time. 😁✌🏻

@andvys @munsonology @pinkrelish @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @luveline

Also the girl in the video is Cera Gibson, I had to find the original video again.

[waratah-moon]

congrats on surviving your nights! do you have any tips for surviving?

tbh I think the biggest tip I have is to keep busy. I hate taking my breaks over night bc it makes me tired. Here's some things that keep me alive

MUSIC - before work listen to the loudest most pop rock/pop punk screaming dancing in the car songs you can! Faves include Jimmy Recard by Drapht and Daytime TV by Dear Seattle

caffeine - I drink one of the 470ml red bull no sugar cans over a few hours and then switch to instant coffee

snacks - sweet biscuits, protein bars, cheese and crackers, maybe a pot of ramen if I'm starving but no big meals

a good book - I've found most of the kindle unlimited books are perfect bc they're no brainers. I finished Sleet Kitten by SJ Tilly (terrible, don't recommend) and Right Man, Right Time by Meghan Quinn (eh it was fine) while at work.

do the night shift tasks - calibrate BSL machines, check the resus trolley, clear out paperwork from folders, restock the med room... all these things are mindless tasks that make you look super helpful and it gives you something to do so you don't fall asleep!

chat shit - obvs if you like who you're working with

do an online course - this is if you're really bored but see if there's any CPD learning you can do online once all your work is done

eat breakfast when you get home, read/watch tv, go to sleep, then eat dinner, have a power nap and do it all again

[waratah-moon]

what kind of music do you listen to on nights?

God Forgot - The Rubens - great to sing dance in the car

Jimmy Recard - Drapht - oldie but a goodie

Chapstick - COIN - written by AI that scratches that brain itch

Daytime TV - Dear Seattle - throw back to 2010s pop punk

Leave Me Lonely - Hilltop Hoods - I know 80% of the words and i'm proud of it

Who R U? - Anderson .Paak - another brain itch scratcher

Cherry Lips - Loon Lips - big early 00s Strokes vibes

Lazaretto - Jack White - I can't not sing this song when it comes on

By Myself - FIDLAR - when I tell you this was on repeat for all of 2019 I'm not lying

Bloody Mary, Kate And Ashley - this one is a lot of noise which is great for waking up when you feel sleepy

[waratah-moon]

Getting ready for bed with Eddie <3

(CW: Could be read as gn reader, but Eddie calls reader 'princess' once). |1.1k|

♡*♡*♡

The bathroom is bathed in soft yellow light, slightly muted behind the chipped white sconces. From down the hall you can hear the faint clink of mugs and plates being placed in the sink by Eddie. 

It’s half past 11 and you’re in your sleep shorts and a faded t-shirt as you brush your teeth. You’re about halfway done when Eddie enters the space, sliding in behind you with a gentle hand on your hip. 

“Hey, princess,” Eddie purrs, placing a delicate kiss to your neck, just by your pulse point. You lean into him as he does so. Despite the fact that you’ve spent all day together and he just saw you less than five minutes ago, his greeting isn’t odd to you. 

Eddie grabs his toothbrush from the cup beside the sink and squeezes a glob of bright green toothpaste onto the bristles. 

You spit toothpaste in the sink before replying sweetly, “Hi, baby.” 

When you straighten up again, Eddie bumps his hip gently against yours. You bump his right back. A foamy, close-lipped smile graces his lips around the toothbrush in his mouth and you poke the shallow dimple that pops into his cheek as a result. The divot remains for a few extra seconds in response. 

Faintly, you can make out the chirping of crickets in the overgrown grass outside and the hum of cicadas in the trees, a summer symphony.

It’s simple moments like this that the novel domesticity of living with Eddie strikes you. You love brushing your teeth together, grocery shopping in the evenings, and cooking dinner with him (even if it is just microwave noodles or frozen pizza). As long as it’s with him. 

You love the simplicity of it. That’s how you know you’re happy with Eddie; when there’s not a single thing you could do together that would bore you. He makes everything better, easier even. 

Since Wayne works nights, you and Eddie get the trailer to yourselves most evenings. You like to imagine you’re living somewhere in the city, that this is your shared apartment. 

You hope you get that with him someday. But for now, the trailer is just fine. You could be anywhere with Eddie and it would be just fine. 

Grabbing your book from the side table, you slip into bed while Eddie finishes up in the bathroom. You won’t sink beneath the sheets and get all comfortable and cozy until he joins you. 

You barely finish more than a page before Eddie dives into bed with you. And you mean that literally. 

When Eddie enters the room, he has a running start of about three paces before diving on top of the duvet, landing on your legs which stretch out beneath the worn fabric. The bed jolts with the action and so do you. As a result, your book falls into your lap.

Eddie looks up at you from where he lays on his belly across your legs, propping his chin up against his hand innocently. He bats his long lashes at you like he hasn’t just caused the entire trailer to shake. 

“Are you trying to break the bed?” You ask through giggles.

“No. But we can try,” Eddie remarks, winking and wiggling his eyebrows. 

You scrunch your nose up in faux distaste. “You know, I don’t think I’m up for it now that you’ve broken both of my legs.” 

Eddie laughs softly, eyes crinkling in the corners. And though it’s just a joke, he still apologizes. 

“Sorry,” He says softly, still giggling lightly, before leaning down and placing a sweet kiss to your now exposed hip. He had forced the covers down a few inches with his landing. You push his hair back from his face in response, tucking curly strands gently behind his ears. 

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, just calmly entering a room and not jumping on innocent, unsuspecting people?” 

Eddie looks at you like you have two heads. “Where’s the fun or flare in that?” And then awkwardly rolls over off your legs and onto his side of the bed. You scoff at his silliness, fingertips pressing against your forehead as you giggle at him. 

He readjusts, pushing himself up and back so he’s sat next to you where your back is pressed up against the wall behind his bed. 

Once he’s settled, you look over at him, and you’re hit with this feeling in your chest that grows and spreads. It takes you over; how much you love him. 

So you lean over and you kiss his cheek, and after you do and he looks at you, he must see it in your eyes and understand. He must recognize it in himself because his eyes soften in the low lamplight of the room and he leans in again and kisses you properly. His lips are soft and taste vaguely of your strawberry chapstick.

When he pulls back slowly, you notice the light smudge of white on his skin and thumb at the small bit of dried toothpaste across his chin. The unshaven stubble there scrapes lightly against the pad of your thumb as you do so. Usually, he shaves every other evening, but he’s neglected his razor for the last bunch of days. 

“Hm,” You hum, eyes tracing a path across the scruff lining his jaw. 

“What?” He wonders softly. 

“You haven’t shaved,” You reply, hand cupping his jaw and very lightly scratching his cheeks, which are dotted with stubble. 

Instantly, Eddie suggests, “I could shave it right now if you wanted.” 

You smile softly, huffing a soft laugh through your nose at his eagerness to do what pleases you. He even starts to get up from the bed before you stop him. 

“Nuh-uh, you’re already in bed,” You say, not wanting him to leave. “And besides, I like it.”

Eddie smiles softly at that, grazing your cheek lovingly with the back of his index finger. 

Then he settles down a bit, lays his head on your shoulder, and you rest yours against the top of his head. 

The pair of you sit there for a short time, you reading your book and Eddie watching you read while fiddling with the fingers on your free hand. 

After, you pull the duvet up to your chins and pull each other close. And you fall asleep just like that, wrapped up in each other just as much as you’re wrapped up in the covers. 

There’s a certain ineffable safety that comes with falling asleep in someone’s arms. In Eddie’s, specifically. You always sleep well when you're next to him. 

♡*♡*♡

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!

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[waratah-moon]

I just finished reading Icebreaker and holy fuck it was good. Where do I find a Nate Hawkins????

[waratah-moon]

before you post, remember S.T.O.P.!!!!

are you SEXUALIZING that old man?

does that old man TURN you ON?

POST.

[waratah-moon]

can i request something with a reader who’s just really into steve’s scoops ahoy uniform?

hi, my love! thanks so much for your request!! what better way to celebrate july 4th (aka stranger things 3 day) than by commemorating steve harrington in his scoops ahoy uniform? tw for smut mdni!! (2.1k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

When Steve told you he got a job slinging ice cream at the mall downtown, you didn’t think much of it. 

In fact, you spent the better part of that conversation comforting him. It was an existential crisis of sorts, wherein he’d spun himself into a panic about not going to college, not being successful, and not providing for you in the way that partners are supposed to. 

You figured it was a bruise to the ego more than anything — especially with his asshole father constantly looming over his shoulder. A steady reminder of what he could’ve been in ways more daunting than just one.

But then he showed you the Scoops Ahoy mandated uniform, held it in his hands with all the boyish reluctance of a child. According to him, the bright blue sailor’s outfit was the most dehumanizing thing of it all. It even came with its own stupid hat. 

You were so turned on by the idea of him wearing it, you forgot you were supposed to be consoling him. You quickly forgot why the job was ever a bad idea in the first place. Steve, albeit a bit confused by your sudden giddiness, was more excited to go into work the following Monday when he knew you were visiting him the first chance you got.

You’re practically skipping when you walk into Scoops, skirt swishing around your thighs. It was later in the morning, which meant business was relatively slow. There’s an older couple sharing a sundae at one of the booths, but other than that, you’re the only customer in the store.

Steve stands at the register with a smile on his face he doesn’t know is there. He’s been a real grouch all morning, but he’s forgotten why at the sight of you.

You beam at him, propping your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Do the line,” you gush.

His chest inflates with a deep breath in, then deflates with a sharp exhale. You don’t even notice that it’s a sigh of annoyance at first, too focused on the scarlet tie around his shoulders and the tufts of chest hair peeking out from the top of it.

“Ahoy, sweetheart,” he greets, still grinning despite his lack of enthusiasm. He tilts his head to his shoulder and recites his line: “‘Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me today? I’ll be your captain’— How was that?” 

“Even better in uniform,” you marvel in a lilt. Then you squint at him. “I better be the only customer you’re using that sweetheart line on, though, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs like the thought of saying it to anyone else is appalling. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world I’ve ever called sweetheart, sweetheart.”

“Good. I plan on it staying that way.”

The boy smiles to himself. 

He likes when you get all possessive. Maybe because he spent the majority of his past relationships having to be the jealous one — always worried about never being good enough, being left. He likes how confident he is in the fact that you only have eyes for him. Even if he is wearing a stupid sailor’s uniform. 

“What do you what, huh?” the boy asks as he pulls out his metal scoop from the apron tied around his hips. “Choco-mint with chocolate sprinkles?”

He’s already spooning the green ice cream onto a cone for you before you say a word. You like that you never have to tell him what you want, that he knows you like the back of his hand already. 

“Ooh. He looks good in a sailor’s outfit, and he’s attentive?” you singsong lowly. “I think you might be a keeper, Steve Harrington.”

The boy rolls his eyes as he turns away from you. He walks to the opposite wall, where several containers of variously colored sprinkles sit in a large tub. When he bends over to smother your cone in the chocolate kind, the white hem of his shorts climbs up his thighs. You almost forget to breathe.  

Steve turns around to catch you staring. You don’t even blink.

“Stop ogling at me,” he laughs with pink cheeks. “It’s getting weird, babe.”

Your brows pinch. “Why is it weird to look at my boyfriend?”

“Because your boyfriend looks like an idiot. Like, this should not be turning you on, sweetheart.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Stevie,” you shrug with a whimsical sigh.

He meets your smirk with a half-hearted scowl and passes you the ice cream cone. When your tongue darts out to taste it, his brain malfunctions for a moment. “Seriously, babe,” he scoffs when his senses return to him. “What about any of this is attractive to you?”

Your head tilts as you scan his muscular form, looking far more boyish than usual in his flamboyant uniform. “Well, for starters, those ankle socks are strangely sexy—”

Steve snorts at the offbeat start to your list.

“—And your thighs look delectable in those shorts. Your arms do, too. You’ve been working out so much, they barely fit in those sleeves,” you compliment. The corner of your mouth quirks into a half-smile as your eyes flit up to his hair. “Also, something about the hat and ascot combo is really doing it for me.”

Robin comes out of the break room then. The door swishes back and forth. “You could’ve just said everything and be done with it,” she grouses as she clumsily sits her white cap on her head.

She looks about as grumpy as Steve, like something about the linoleum tile and fluorescent lighting is sucking the lives out of the two of them.

“Don’t worry. You look hot too, Buckley,” you promise with a smirk.

Her head tilts sweetly to the side as she musters a grin of her own. “Thank you.”

You turn back to Steve with an expectant gaze. “When do you go on break again?”

He twists his wrist to check his watch as you take another lick of your ice cream cone. 

Robin answers for him. “Now, preferably.”

“What?” the boy asks with furrowed brows. “I still have, like, fifteen minutes left.”

“Just go fuck and get it over with,” she groans, ocean-blue eyes wide and pleading. “I can practically smell the sexual tension radiating off both of you.”

Steve wants to argue, but you only smile. You nod your head towards the exit. “C’mon, sailor.”

He has no choice but to follow behind you. He’s been doing it for years now, and you haven’t disappointed him once. You lead him by his hand through the bustling mall, chucking your half-eaten cone into the bin when you reach the entrance.

Steve isn’t surprised when you wind up at his car in the employee parking section. He swirls with a boyish excitement, anyway. 

Everything feels so new with you. 

Even the things he’s done a thousand times.

Including, but not limited to, fucking you in the backseat of his car.

You’re on him the second you shut the door behind you. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his thighs, kissing him with the intent to swallow him whole.

Steve’s hands are limp at his sides in shock. It leaves you doing most of the work yourself, pulling down his blue shorts and gray underwear in one fell swoop. You tuck the hem of them beneath his heavy balls and half-hard cock.

His head falls back against the seat when you start fisting him completely stiff.

You twist your wrist in the way you know he likes — squeezing him towards the top before falling to the stem of his cock again. Your thumb swipes over his bulbous head to collect the pearly pre-come beading there. 

If you had enough room in the backseat of his Beamer, you might’ve forgone the sex entirely and just taken him into your mouth right then.

Steve’s rosy mouth falls agape to billow pretty little moans for you. You tug on the red tie around his neck to get his attention again. His glazed-over, honey eyes flutter open to find your smirking face. 

“Can I take a ride on your ocean of flavor, Stevie?” you tease with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“It’s ‘set sail,’ but yeah— shit,” he swears when your thumb grazes his leaking tip again. “Of course, you can, sweetheart…”

With his consent, you grip the bottom of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line him with your pulsating entrance. He might’ve asked if you wanted a little preparation first, but when his silky head grazes your satin walls, he knows you’re more than wet.

Your pussy’s already drooling all over him, and he isn’t even inside you yet. 

The both of you exhale low moans when you finally slip him within you. Your walls are warm and wet — the softest velvet imaginable, and perfectly snug around his achingly hard cock. You keep your fingers wrapped around the tie on his chest, using it for leverage as you grind your hips back and forth over his thighs. 

Steve goes pussy drunk almost instantly, babbling like crazy at the feeling of your cunt sucking him further and further inside of you.

“Oh, my fucking god, baby,” he moans, the words sounding stiff as they spill from his tightening throat. “You feel so good. So tight, too— Shit. Pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart.”

He can’t see you from this angle — can’t see the way your dripping cunt takes him so well or the way your ass glides perfectly over his heavy balls. But he can picture it, can feel your slick drenching his pubic hair and happy trail.

He so desperately wishes it were possible to fuck you with his cock and have you ride his face at the same time. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.

But this is good for now. 

This is perfect.

With the energy he’s got left from his drifting senses, he grips the plush of your ass. He spreads your flesh apart, and the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin makes you clench around him. He almost loses it, then — when the smacking of your thighs and the wet squelch of your drenched pussy fills the small car, going slowly cloudy with your entwining heavy breaths.

“You’re so hot, Stevie,” you manage through labored pants. Your heavy-lidded gaze threatens to close, but you don’t want to stop looking at the boy below you. You want to commit all his features to memory — his pink kiss-bitten mouth, reddened cheeks, and honeyed eyes. You want the image of his fucked-out features to stain your mind forever.

“God, babe,” he sighs breathlessly, a moan mixed with a soft laugh. “I still don’t— I really don’t get it, sweetheart.”

“Are you seriously complaining?” you smirk as you glide your hips over his thighs again. 

Your swollen clit catches the polyester of the bottom of his shirt. You swear your eyes cross as your mouth opens in a low keen.

When your pussy clenches at the ethereal feeling, his cock jerk within your tightening velvet. Both of you are nearing your orgasms full throttle now. You can almost taste the sweet vanilla of your climax.

“No. Fuck no, I’m not complaining,” he assures with a shake of his head. “You’re just really fucking confusing and really fucking hot... Fuck—”

His head falls back again, exposing the golden tendons of his neck. You’d bite at them if you could stop looking at him. You smile even though he’s not looking at you — even though your thighs are burning and your knee is digging into the seat belt latch. “I can’t wait to fuck you when you get off.”

“Yeah?” he hums, eyes still halfway closed.

“Yeah,” you repeat with a nod, still rocking against his lap while his cock rubs relentlessly at the deepest parts of you. Your clit catches his shirt with every pass of your hips, sending a white-hot feeling of nearly unbearable pleasure shooting up your spine. “So I can get a real good look at you while you fuck me in this uniform.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He tries not to come at the sound of your voice and how the words spill like honey from your mouth. 

Despite the less-than-ideal location — at the edges of a mostly empty lot — he doesn’t want this to be over quite yet. He wants to feel you gush on his cock over and over and over again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to focus on work until you do.

If he knew that slinging ice cream for three dollars an hour in a stupid sailor’s outfit would drive you this crazy, he would’ve dropped out of school and put in an application forever ago. 

[waratah-moon]

Come watch Silverstone with me over at @waratah-vroom

[waratah-moon]

i’ll never understand people who can’t make fun of their faves a little. like yes i love this character and would defend them to my grave but also they’re stupid sometimes and they do dumb things and imma make fun of them for it