Blurb - Blog Posts

smut!! (for anyone🤪)

I decided to leave it nameless so it can be with anyone. also not 100% happy with this one but it needed done x

So you’re in a club, he took you, you didn’t particularly want to go but he begged and so you put on your finest outfit, looking absolutely stunning because if he’s making you go you’re going to make him wish he’d have you in private. And it has the desired effect, him putting his hands on you the moment he sees you, you swatting away his hands and insisting you need to get going, smirking as you walk off. And he’s distracted all night, hands on you if you’re close enough, eyes on you if you’re not, all his mates smirking and winking at him and it’s 11 when he decides fuck it, and takes you home with the announcement ‘got to tend to the missus, lads’. And he’s all over you in the taxi home, hands up your dress, caressing your thigh, dress too tight to your skin for him to get any further up but god he loves that dress. Then when you’re in the house he’s pulling you to the sofa, not even bothering with the bedroom, unzipping your dress and staring at you in awe, muttering how beautiful you are. So he lifts you firmly by your hips, legs hooking around his waist, his hands grabbing your arse, tongue in your mouth and you’re moaning his name as he slips inside you, creating a steady rhythm, his breath staggering from holding you up, so he puts you on the counter and continues. And it’s sensual and lustful all at once, his groans and your moans mixing together in the late night silence. His pace slowing as he reaches his high, and he pulls out, finishing you off with his hand, moving it against you, kissing down your neck as he goes. After you finish you stay still a while, heads resting together, collecting yourselves and smiling.

okay being in a relationship with John but you had a huge fight and drifted apart and haven’t had much contact for weeks but one day you decided to show up to his game wearing a jersey with his name on it and the cameraman randomly shows you on the screen and John sees it during the game and is all distracted and gets subbed off and as soon as he leaves the pitch he texts you to meet him after the game

I actually really liked this idea, anon

so you hadn’t spoken to John in weeks, but it was a big derby match and you’d be damned if you missed it because of him, so you got ready, throwing on your Man City jersey and go to the game with your friend. And it was a good game. And intense game. You were telling your friend that City are playing well - but John was starting and playing well was what you really meant. And it’s after a goal, everyone celebrating, showing the gleeful fans that he sees you, up on the screen, screaming and hugging your friend and he notices it, of course he does. STONES written across your back and it looks right to him, and he keeps thinking about it, looking at were he thinks you are in the crowd, searching, hoping to get a chance to see you - his girl - with his name on your back. Like it should be. And it’s this distraction that ends with him getting subbed off, commentators agreeing with the decision - ‘Stones has slipped in quality this second half’ - but he doesn’t care. He’s getting his phone out as soon as he’s off, finding your undeleted contact name and sending you a message.

Meet me after the game x

And you see it at full time, high off the win, high off the thought of him. So of course you do.

Fluffy Winks! Maybe something where his girl is stressed because of job and overworking herself. Then it's finally friday and weekend. And he makes sure she gets a rest; maybe some cuddling, bath or something.

Ugh I love him he’s like a puppy x

And you’d wander into his house, collapse on the sofa, hearing him pattering about upstairs but you’re too tired to go see what he’s doing, too stressed to even think about him and you’re thinking about work, pulling out your laptop and finishing things off - despite it being Friday. And he’s coming downstairs with a cheery ‘hi’, closing your laptop and talking you by the hand, ignoring your protests of having to finish your work. And he’s shushing you with ‘you can’t do good work if you’re stressed, like I can’t play good football when I’m stressed’ and he’s pulling you into the bathroom, a bubble bath inside and lit with candles. Then he starts undressing you, and you climb in, with Harry sat on the floor by the side, kissing you occasionally, listening, letting you get it all out and hugging your top half lightly - ‘I don’t want to get too wet’ he’d laugh. And you’d think about all the work you have to do for a split second second, but one look into his puppy dog eyes and it all melts away, the only thought now: ‘babe, are you not getting a dead leg?’. And of course he is. For you.

*chanting* Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard

YES, chant it

So he’s subbed off after 70 minutes, sending you a wink and a subtle flick of the head to follow as he goes for his post-match shower. And you follow, cheeks heating up despite no one seeing, hurriedly finding the dressing room. Jesse is immediately on you, pushing you against the door, closing it as he does and locking it. Tongue in your mouth, hand in your hair, sweaty body pressed against yours and you moan into his mouth and he loves it. And he’s pushing you and his shorts down, head falling backwards and a string of moans pouring out of his mouth as you work on him. Tip first, teasing him, stroking him, head going further and further down, gaining a rhythm. And his moans are getting more loud and intense as he’s pulling you back up, mouth on yours again, pushing down your trousers, hand under the shirt with his name on the back, resting on your waist as he lowers you onto the cold bench, head between your legs. And then it’s you moaning, and your knuckles going white as his tongue and his fingers do their work, moving perfectly with his expertise (and you make a mental note to mention that later). And it’s when he comes back up, ready to kiss you again that there’s a knock on the door and the two of you pull up your clothes, Jesse unlocking the door to find Marcus at the front of a large group of footballers clad in red and you walk past sheepishly, all of them smirking at you and you laugh as you hear Rashford speak, ‘couldn’t even watch us win could ya?’

‘Well I had other business, beansprouts’.

do jealous stonesy!!

jealous stonsey my god

And it’s when you meet dele that it happens but of course you don’t notice it because you’re sat laughing along to everything he says, leaning forwards into his space, making him smile and laugh and gush about ‘John’s charming missus’. And John can’t hear what you’re saying, so he doesn’t know that you’re sat trading stories about him - not that it should matter. So when you leave you’re confused at the way he refuses to look at you as he drives home and the way he goes straight upstairs for a shower as you get in. And you’re making a cuppa downstairs when he comes back down, towel hung loosely around his waist, hair damp to his forehead and chest glistening so you take the opportunity to speak, ‘I had a good day today’. And he snaps back an angry ‘yeah I know’, and you’re shocked, holding his tea in your hands, feeling lost and not knowing what to do with it. ‘So you got along with dele. Like everyone else. That’s understandable. Of course you would’. And it makes you laugh. Your John. Being jealous of dele? How could he compare. So you wander up to him, stroking his huffing face, smiling at his decelerations of ‘oh so this is funny to you’ and mumbling assurances of love. Because of course you love him. And his face softens. Because of course he knows this, he’s just being irrational. And he’s pulling you into his chest, and you’re squirming and laughing, ‘no you’re wet’, and he smirks cheekily ‘I don’t mind when you’re wet, love’ and you’re laughing together and you hand him his tea and you spend the rest of the night showing him how much you love him - never anyone else.

more smutty stonesy please !! Your amazing love x

aww thank you anon, it’s a longer one x

Running around a football pitch for ninety minutes can be tiring, a fact you came to know because of the aftermath of John’s matches - him falling exhausted into bed the minute he got home, regardless of if you were there or not. So, as much as you loved watching your man run about for ninety minutes, goal line clearances left and right, you relished the games he was a sub or he didn’t play - you loved a riled up John wanting to blow of steam. So when he pulled you hurriedly to his car after the game, hair wet from his post-game shower and adrenaline coursing through his veins from the 20 minutes he played, you didn’t resist one bit, your own car left forgotten. And he drove hurdily through the streets, navigating his way back to his house and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, glancing over at John, who’s eyes were firmly fixed in the road. And then you decided to have some fun. It started off innocent. A small brush over his thigh, smirking to yourself at his tightening hands on the steering wheel. And you moved up and across, fingers skimming his bulge, hands on the steering wheel going white, smirk on your face growing as you pushed down his joggers, palming him through his underwear. His moan filled the quiet car and it was enough to get you to place your mouth around him in a state of passion, engulfing his entirety immediately, wanting to waste no time, and he squirmed beneath you, growling into the air, foot letting up on the gas pedal, as you gained rhythm. One white knuckle off the wheel, into your hair, pushing and pulling your head how he wants, and it was lustful and passionate and interrupted by the loud honking of a car horn behind you. And you jumped up in shock, John practically having stopped in the road, and you laughed to yourself as John hurriedly collected himself and drove on, definitely breaking the speed limit and both squirming at the thought of the rest of the night - and it’ll be a long one.

Okay but riding John's thigh and you won't let him touch you and you're just going "till you get her face off your body you ain't touching me again babe, you'll just have to watch me get my self off"

and it started when your friend showed you some stupid article that mentioned he still had his tattoo and what it might suggest for the future of their relationship, and not that you have a problem with Millie but that rubbed you the wrong way so you sit at work, waiting to get home to him and show him who his girl is. And it seems like forever before you’re pulling into the driveway and walking into the living room, seeing him back from training sat on the sofa and flicking through Netflix. And god he looks good, of course he does, so you stride over to him, sit straddeling his thigh, his hands making immediate movements to your hips but you push him away and he’s shocked, mumblings of ‘love’ and ‘babe’ falling from his mouth as he desperately tries to grasp any part of your body. But you push him off every time, ‘till you get your face off her body you don’t get to touch me, babe’ and he’s groaning, sinking back into the cushion as he watches you through dark eyes, rocking back and forth on his thigh, small moans emitting from your mouth and he can barely contain himself, hands still trying to grasp, still being rejected, ‘you’ll just have to watch me get myself off’ and he hates it but god he loves it. The tattoo is gone within a week.

anon you’re killing me x

Yooo some rashford stuff maybe?? :-D I had a dream he kisses all of my operation scars on my tummy and I :-((((

You’re stood in front of a mirror, staring at your scars, tracing them, thinking about how much he might prefer you without them. Lost in thought, you don’t notice him entering the room until his arms slip around your waist and he’s kissing your neck, whispering ‘what ya doing’. But you don’t want to tell him, don’t want to be this vulnerable but he can tell - of course he can, Marcus is empathetic and sympathetic and everything you need right now - and he’s leading you to the bed and lying you on your back. Then he’s kissing down your stomach, giving extra attention to your scars and whispering how beautiful you look and how you would always look stunning to him no matter what and it’s a completely innocent and kind moment and just like him.

Hi can u write some more stonesy please he doesn’t get enough love on here & you’re very talented xx

thank you anon, john stones will always deserve more love

you’re in the crowd, watching him play and he’s playing so well and you’re so proud and sometimes he catches sight of you in the crowd, holding his daughter and laughing at the nonsense she speaks and he knows his name is on your back and those two things are enough to make him smile. and it’s on tv and it’s gifed and everyone loves his smile but you know it’s just for you. then the game finishes and he’s walking up to you, sweaty and tired, taking his daughter in his arms and you loved how he looked at her, how he spoke to her. and then he’s wrapping his other arm around your waist and kissing you softly and god you loved how he looked at you and you both felt so happy, so content, not caring that the cameras were capturing it and there’d be an article labelled ‘John Stones and his WAG put on a sizzling display’ because all you wanted was to get home, put his daughter to bed and show each other how in love you really were.

omg do one for stones!!

You’d shuffle down the stairs looking for John, finding him stood at the stove making eggs and sausages, low hanging joggers and shirtless. And he’d be smirking as he caught you staring at his chest and playfully rolling his eyes as you lightly frown at his tattoo of Millie. ‘Don’t worry, love’ he’d laugh, ‘now go back to admiring me’ and you’d feel your cheeks heating up and of course he does this all the time because he loves teasing you and seeing you blush and of course you’d brush him off with a laugh and a roll of the eyes he loves so much, but you make damn sure to admire them back muscles when he turns back around.

Jesse lingard fluff plssse I need this rn x

A sleepy ‘hey babe’ is whispered as he enters the house, wrapping his arms around your waist that’s clad in a jersey with his name on. Face in your neck, smelling your hair, whispering how beautiful you are as you lead him to the sofa. He places his head on your lap, you brushing your fingers over his cheek, gazing at each other, speaking nonsense to one another other about each other’s day. You complaining about that one person at work you hate, him laughing along and saying how you should ‘just leave already’ and it’s private and intimate and he’s staring at you as you speak, watching the words fall from your lips onto his dead ears because he’s not listening he’s thinking. Thinking about how much he wants this. How much he wants you. And suddenly hes softly kissing you, sweeping his hand over your face and then his tired smiling face is all you see for the rest of the night, both of you falling together wrapped up on the sofa, both of you hoping it’ll happen over and over again.

Forever love for my first anon request x

New Attire

Dhawan!Doctor x Reader

Summary - The Doctor wants to show The Reader something he found, but you are too distracted by his new item of clothing.

Warnings - None that I know of (let me know if I missed something)

Word Count - 961

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Just another little thought that I had. I hope that you enjoy it.

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The Doctor sent you a message in the middle of the night for you to wake up to. You had to persuade him into this new change. Usually, The Doctor would barge into your room in the middle of the night and drag you out of bed in order to show you the thing that excited him. But you were growing so tired in the middle of adventures that you had to change from the previous routine for your safety.

The Doctor’s message was a rambling maze of information about a new discovery in space and how much The Doctor missed you. It was sweet reading The Doctor’s love and care for you, even though you had only been asleep and away from him for about eight hours. Waking up to his little (or sometimes quite extensive) messages were always a joy to wake up to.

You got dressed and ready and headed toward the main library where The Doctor asked to meet you. Though, you briefly stopped by The TARDIS’s main kitchen and made a heavily caffeinated drink and some breakfast.

When you entered the library, you saw The Doctor roaming around a couple of tables that were completely covered with research papers, astronomical charts, and stacks of books. He was clearly ecstatic. Before he even saw you, The Doctor was jumping up and down and smiling widely whenever the weight of this new astronomical discovery would ping around his brain again.

You loved seeing him like this. Just The Doctor being himself. Completely in his element and no longer stressed by random enemies or The Master trying to destroy him again. Though one thing about the image before you had caught you off guard. 

The Doctor was wearing a burgundy sleeveless sweater over his lilac button-down shirt. It looked cute on him, but you had never seen him in a sweater ever, let alone a sleeveless pullover. It seemed like something he would wear, but also this extra garment somehow made him look so much less Human, which you thought would have been a big feat.

“Y/n! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you for ages!” The Doctor was practically shouting with excitement. He bounded to you and gently placed his palm against the small of your back as he lead you to the table that he had set up with all of his research throughout the night. The Doctor, instead of actively talking about his discovery, was ranting about how he wished that you had been awake when he first came across the phenomenon. One thing you never expected about The Doctor is that he would be so romantic. It was a very Doctor-esc brand of romanticism, but he was incredibly romantic nevertheless. He was always wishing to experience new things and firsts with you. It was adorable. And you wished that you could focus on his affection, but, in your just-woken-up brain, you could help but focus on the outfit he wore today.

“What are you wearing?” You jokingly questioned as you sat on a nearby sofa after the previous conversation came to an end.

“A sleeveless sweater. Why?” The Doctor looked down at his outfit and ran a self-conscious hand down his chest.

“Since when did you wear pullovers? Especially sleeveless ones.”

“I wear them all the time actually. You just haven’t seen when I get cold.”

“You get cold!” You exclaimed, dramatically and sarcastically. The Doctor in this regeneration was constantly chilly. He was always asking his TARDIS to light a fire in fireplaces, always curled up in blankets, always hugging you and cuddling you for your warmth. Surprisingly though, he had never added a new layer of clothing to his outfit of choice, until today.

“Do you not like it?” The Doctor asked tentatively. Oh no! He was getting sad and insecure because of your questioning. That’s not what your intent was in asking about his sweater.

“I like it, I just wasn’t expecting you to wear something like that.” You tried to reassure him and explain, but The Doctor had already made up his mind about your opinion.

“You hate it.” The Doctor concluded in his anxiously rambling mind and slouched in sadness.

“Doctor.”

“I knew that you would hate it. I was stupid to think that you would like it.”

“Doctor.”

“Why did I even pull this stupid thing out of my wardrobe? I’m so stupid sometimes!”

“Doctor. Come here!” You reached your hands out to The Doctor and made a child-like grabbing motion with them. The Doctor slumped over to where you were now sitting and delicately, hesitantly, grasped your hands with his. The Doctor wouldn’t look you in the eye, but he made sure to tap the toes of his shoes against yours (a little act of intimacy he would always perform, no matter where he was or how upset he was).

“You look cute.

“Are you sure that I don’t look stupid or dorky?” The Doctor swung your clasped hands back and forth anxiously.

“Dorky yes, but never stupid.” The Doctor groaned and tried to walk away but you pulled him back to stand in front of you.

“No, you look cute, Doctor!”

“Promise?” The Doctor finally ventured a peek up at your face, but it was brief and timid.

“I promise!” You placed many kisses on The Doctor’s knuckles causing the old Time Lord to look away flustered. Despite being in a relationship for a while now, you never failed to fluster The Doctor. Even though he didn’t always know how to respond, The Doctor was always grateful for your reassurance. 

“Do you want to see what I found?” The Doctor asked in a hopeful tone, finally looking back at you with restored confidence.

“Absolutely, Doctor!”

Breakfast Not In Bed

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary - Just waking up in your new apartment with Eddie.

Warnings - allusions to sex(minors please do not interact)

Word Count - 374

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. I hope that you enjoy!

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The bed was cold when you woke up, except for the section of the mattress being warmed by the sun. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and sat up on your elbow. Eddie was nowhere to be seen. You expected him to be sleeping soundly beside you, both because of the “adventurous” night the two of you had last night and because it was your first morning in your new apartment together. 

Getting bored with being alone, you slowly sat up fully and stretched all of the kinks out of your body before exiting the bed. Your feet immediately froze upon hitting the floor of your bedroom. You then stretched one last time before walking out to find where Eddie could have gone. 

To your surprise, you found Eddie standing shirtless in his boxers by the stove in the kitchen.

“No! I was going to serve you breakfast in bed.” Eddie whined as he stirred something in a big bowl.

“Well, now I can help you. Or, at the very least, hug you while you cook.” You skipped over to him and then buried your head into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Are you making waffles?” You asked after a few minutes of hugging Eddie. You were still incredibly tired, so instead of removing your head from Eddie’s shoulder to watch him cook, you just resolved to ask him what he was doing.

“With all the fixin’s!” Eddie shouted in response.

“Not very healthy…”

“It’s our first morning here, can’t we celebrate?” You hummed in thought. It would be lovely to spend a cute morning with Eddie, but the memories from last night kept invading your mind.

“Just like we celebrated last night?” You teased.

“Well, yes. We haven’t had sex on the kitchen table yet, or the counter. And I always wanted to lick whipped cream off your body.” You playfully hit Eddie’s stomach while giggling at his comment.

“We should eat first, before we do any of that, Rockstar.”

“Yes. My precious must have a full stomach before we go for another round.” With that, Eddie turned around in your arms and stuffed a freshly prepared waffle into your mouth and kissed your face all over before returning to make your love-filled breakfast.

Aftercare, I Love You

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary - Just an aftercare blurb with Eddie

Warnings - references to sex but no actual sex(minors please do not interact)

Word Count - 445

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. I hope that you enjoy this!

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You twirled a piece of Eddie’s hair, that had fallen on top of his chest, between your fingers. You smiled blissfully upon recalling how about an hour ago, a similar strand of hair kept falling in your face as Eddie pistoned into you from above. You felt Eddie kiss your forehead a couple of times as he rubbed your back.

No matter how passionate or rough your sex could become, Eddie would always be so calm and peaceful when performing aftercare. You always tried to give him the same comfort, but when he made you so weak, it was sometimes hard to deliver. Eddie always reassured you, though, that he just wanted to have your company and to lie in your arms for as long as possible. If he needed anything else, he would tell you.

You softly kissed the tattoo on his left pectoral muscle, and then you kissed the spider tattoo under his collarbone. Eddie slid his hand soothingly up and down your bare back. With his other hand, Eddie tilted your head up so you were now looking up at him.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked with a slightly raspy voice.

“You tell me anything, Eddie.”

“I think … I think I love you.” You looked up at him, shocked. You and Eddie hadn’t really put labels on your relationship, but, despite that, of course you love the dorky dungeon master.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just thought you should know.” Eddie mumbles softly. 

You could tell from the blush blooming on Eddie’s face and neck, and his frantically moving hands, that he was becoming flustered and regretful of what he just confessed. Eddie had nothing to be regretful over, however. You obviously felt the same way. How could you not? So, you bolted up to kiss Eddie squarely on the mouth, effectively stopping his nervous ramblings and knocking him back against the pillows with a shocked yelp in the process.

“I love you, too, Eddie Munson!” You pulled far enough away from his face to see his expression change from one of worry to an expression of complete and utter joy. A wide smile etched across his face as he wrapped his arms around you and flipped you over onto your back. 

“Well, in that case. How about a celebratory round two?”

“I’d love that, Rockstar!” Eddie’s face burst into a wide grin, again, before he dived toward your neck and began to suck fresh hickeys onto your soft flesh. You giggled at Eddie’s easily excitable nature while quickly burying your hands in Eddie’s wild mane of hair. Tonight was definitely going to be a long night.

Break In Blurb

Gomez!Master x Reader

Summary - You catch Missy breaking into your flat.

Warnings - nothing, just funny fluff

Word Count - 706

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Just had this funny idea that Missy really likes breaking into places and stalking

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You had no idea how long Missy had been trapped in The Vault. You say trapped loosely.  You were very aware that Missy would sneak out of The Vault whenever The Doctor or Nardole weren’t monitoring her too closely. Of course, it was obvious that Missy also enjoyed a challenge, and she would sometimes escape just to see if someone would notice and catch her.

You hadn’t noticed the first few times Missy had escaped whilst you were a companion of The Doctor’s. You eventually caught on, however, when you began smelling a fancy perfume drifting throughout your apartment at random times. The next time you went on an adventure with The Doctor, you interrupted him and Nardole discussing an anomaly with The Vault. They, of course, halted their conversation as soon as they saw you. 

They believed that you were completely unaware of The Vault and that there was a person being kept in there, which you didn't really understand. The Vault was blatant to anyone who travelled down to the basement, which you had done many times, and whoever or whatever was in there was the opposite of quiet. You had no idea, however, that the person was Missy or that she had been watching you.

Missy’s secret was discovered by you one day, however. You were crowded into your bedroom finishing up some online work. Missy apparently thought that you were out as she crawled ups through your window. You heard movement and grabbed an umbrella from the hallway by your door. You screamed upon seeing the Victorian-looking woman climbing in halfway through your window.

“Hello, dearie! It’s an absolute pleasure to finally meet you!”

Bonus Under The Cut

Missy, somehow gracefully, fully climbed through your window and then patted down her Victorian-looking outfit. You couldn’t help but wonder why she was locked in The Vault. Other than looking a bit like a ghost haunting an old home, she didn’t appear to be that menacing.

“Are you the person in The Vault?”

“Were you going to hit me with an umbrella?” Missy ignored your question and cocked her head to the side to look at your makeshift weapon. Honestly, she was a bit impressed that you were prepared to attack her. 

“Maybe, possibly. Never mind what I am using as a weapon, answer my question before I hit you!” Missy held up her hands defensively. She liked you more than she thought she would.

“Yes, I am the person in The Vault.

“Well, how do you keep getting out?”

“Not going to snitch on me are you, dearie?” Missy winked at you, causing you to become a bit flustered.

“No, just curious how you keep breaking out of there and breaking into my flat.”

“You know about that?” Missy’s impressed feelings for you continued to grow.

“Your perfume tends to linger.” Missy sniffed the air. 

“It appears that it does. I’ll keep that in mind when I sneak out of the Vault again.”

“So, what do you want?”

“You, dearie.” You raised your umbrella protectively again.

“Not like that. I wish to get to know you. I think that we will get along.”

“You’ve got to admit that you phrased that weirdly.”

“Fair enough.” There was a bit of an awkward silence as Missy trailed off and began looking around your place. So, you decided to introduce yourself to this stranger.

“Well, I’m Y/n. Please don’t hurt me, or kill me, or hurt my friends.”

“I am The Master, but you may call me Missy if you like. I will never hurt you and as long as your friends don’t aggravate me, nothing will happen to them.”

“Including The Doctor?”

“We will wait and see for that one.” The two of you fell back into that awkward silence. Missy seemed intent on finding things out about you by going through your things. You would rather just get to know her like a normal person, despite how much The Doctor would protest everything you were doing.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, alright.” Missy shrugged her shoulders, jumped down from where she was investigating the top shelf of your bookshelf, and then practically skipped past you to make her way to your sofa.

Sunlight

Frenchie x Reader

Summary - The Reader wakes up with sun in their eyes.

Warnings - light sensitivity/overstimulation

Word Count - 647

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Pre-show/in between episodes. Established relationship.

This is purely self-indulgent because I am really sensitive to light and get overstimulated by it sometimes. Also, I noticed that Frenchie uses his scarf to cover his eyes in the scene at the end of episode 1 and I thought he was cute.

Not my gif. All credits to the gif maker.

The sky began to lighten as the sun rose above the horizon. A soft salty breeze drifted through the air of the early dawn. It was going to be a calming day at sea, it appeared, but you still didn’t like being up this early. You weren’t used to this routine or lifestyle yet. Just as your mind began to wander and think about what your day would be filled with; the sunlight skipped across the sea and shone directly into your eyes. You grumbled, closed your eyes quickly, and shifted to hide your face in Frenchie’s overshirt.

Frenchie had told you many times before to put a cloth over your eyes, if you were to sleep on the deck of The Revenge with him. He had even suggested asking Captain for one of his many sleep masks, which Stede would probably be happy to lend or even give to you. You always made excuses, however, for why you didn’t need something like that. In situations like the one you were in now, you would just hide into Frenchie’s neck or chest to keep from being tormented by the light. And during the day you would try to work below deck until sunset or shield your eyes as much as you possibly could without your duties being inhibited. You didn’t think it was that big on an issue, but was always looking out for you.

Frenchie understood your sensitivity to light. He himself would get overstimulated by the sun and some candlelight sometimes, which is why he always encouraged you to avoid intense sunlight instead of muscling through the sensitivity and then growing overstimulated, tired or even angry. Frenchie also asked you to use the light green scarf that he wore all the time to block out the sun, like he did when he grew overstimulated, but you always refused most times because you didn’t want to take one of his comfort items away from him. You couldn’t help but grow anxious over the idea of Frenchie needing to use his scarf when you were using it. You didn’t want him to suffer at your expense.

You felt Frenchie shift a bit and move you along with him. He was now laying on his side while you laid on his outstretched arm. Frenchie’s shoulder slightly blocked the rising sun from hitting your eyes so intensely. Even with your eyes closed, you were still distracted by the rising sun and the little burning dots of light that would float and circle in your field of vision. Suddenly, you felt a surprisingly soft piece of fabric wrap around your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile knowing that it was Frenchie’s scarf. You lifted up one side of the green cloth to look at the pirate you had grown to love.

“You didn’t have to do that, Frenchie”

“I wanted to, babe. Despite how much I love feeling curl into me, I don’t want you to be blinded. We have a full day at sea ahead of us.” Frenchie readjusted his scarf so it was covering your eyes fully again. And he placed his palm over where he had laid the cloth to make sure you wouldn’t remove his scarf from your eyes again.

“But you need it.”

“You need it more right now. Seeing as you are the one facing the sun. We’ll share it in future.” You were about to protest again, but Frenchie interrupted you with a kiss to the lips. You giggled and smiled and resigned in defeat, letting Frenchie win the scarf discussion. You then felt Frenchie kiss your cheek and then your forehead before he finally pulled you back into his side. Eventually, the two of you settled back into your makeshift bed on the deck of The Revenge and got a few extra minutes of sleep before the next day of sailing began.

Alone

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary - The Master is furious after waking up alone, thinking that the reader had left him.

Warnings - The Master being sad and threatening violence

Word Count - 841

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Just had an idea, I hope you enjoy it!

The Master stirred; he felt colder for some reason. Usually, when in bed, he was incredibly warm because you were always cuddled up against him. Time Lords could regulate their body temperature, but whenever you and The Master would sleep in the same bed together or on the couch, he would always relish in how constantly warm you felt. It now felt as if you weren’t in bed with him, though. The bed was so cold. You must have turned away from him on your shared bed. 

The Master stretched his arm out across the bed to pull you back against him, but when he did so, he felt nothing. With his eyes still closed and him still half asleep, The Master patted the bed where you should be. The last bits of the dream he was having slipped from his mind and clarity took over him; The Master jolted up from the bed. His hearts started beating faster when he realised that you were no longer in bed with him. The Master was completely alone. 

He jolted out of bed and quickly got dressed in the closest clothes he could find lying around. It would be better to wear day old clothes than searching for you in his underwear. The Master’s mind was racing. He was thinking of all the places you could have gone, but his mind obviously went to the worst places in his anxious, sleep altered mind. 

You couldn’t have been kidnapped from within his TARDIS. The Master had placed backups upon backups of protections long ago, just to keep you safe. Besides, no person of any species would have the guts to break into The Master’s TARDIS. So, that’s not the reason why you weren’t in bed with him.

The Master had been teaching you how to fly the TARDIS. You had been begging him to teach you for months. Was this just a part of a long form plan of escape? Have you really left him? Would you do that to him? You probably went back to Earth, or to The Doctor. Either way, he would get you back. You weren’t allowed to leave him.

The Master barreled down the twisting hallways of his TARDIS toward the console room. He abruptly stopped, however, when he saw you slowly walking down the hall, bobbling around a bit because of your tiredness and the fact that you were scrolling through your phone.

“Y/n? You’re still here?” The Master ran up to you and was about to grab you by your shoulders until he saw you yawn and rub your eye sleepily.

“Yeah, I just forgot my hoodie in the library, and I was cold.”

“I thought you left me.” The Master gently brushed an eyelash off of your cheek, but mainly used that as an excuse to touch you.

“I was hoping to get back in bed before you woke up, I’m sorry, Master.” You leaned into The Master’s palm, completely misunderstanding what he had just implied.

“No, I thought you left me, Y/n.” You looked up at The Master, confused, still not understanding. You studied his face, trying to understand even though you were incredibly tired. Finally, it clicked.

“Koschei, why would I leave you? I would never want to leave you.” The Master almost let the tears he was holding back fall, but he decided to lunge forward and trap you in a bone crushing hug that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You patted The Master’s back reassuringly and whispered comforting words into his ear.

“Let’s go back to bed, yeah?” You felt The Master nod his head at your suggestion. Even though he agreed with your idea, it still took a while to pry him off of you. When you finally did, The Master still clung to your arm. In his adrenaline filled rage and surprise of your absence, he forgot how tired he truly was. Now it was hitting him all at once and all The Master wanted to do was hold you and sleep the night away.

The Master crawled into your shared bed first, and made grabby hands toward you, requiring your presence immediately. You giggled at his actions. You always loved seeing his softer side that he reserved only for you to see. You crawled into bed and straddled his lap before laying down on his chest. The Master quickly brought his arms to encircle you and keep you tightly against him.

After a couple moments of silence, The Master spoke, “I love you. You know that, right.”

“Of course, I know that. I love you, too, Koschei. So much!” You kissed The Master’s chest, over his hearts, and snuggled back against him. You fell asleep quickly in the safety of your lover’s arms. The Master waited until you were fully asleep before he too succumbed to sleep. Once the two of you were fully and deeply asleep, both you and The Master had peaceful dreams of your life together and your love for each other.

body wash- bucky barnes avenger!fem reader x bucky ft bestie sam

A sweetness washes over you as you side up to Bucky and Sam, the familiar scent catching you off guard because it is not you who smells like that you are far from smelling pleasant. Dirt and blood cake your skin, tight braid holds your filthy hair back from your equally muddy face, but when Fury calls from a debrief, there is very little time to clean yourself up beyond a quick spray of the deodorant left behind on the quinjet and the canned summer floral breeze does little to mask the stench of earth and gore.

You file in between the two men. Sam equipped with his wings and Bucky's hulking shoulders do little to give you room to walk between the two of them but you manage, pushing back against your shoulders to keep pace.

"So which one of you two used my body wash?" you question as you turn the corner, eyeing Bucky, who is already staring at you, eyes narrowing before schooling his expression back into neutrality.

"Don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart." He quirks a smile at you before flicking his eyes to Sam. "But Bird Boy over there smells an awful lot like you."

"How do you know what she smells like, Barnes?" Sam is quick with his retort, knocking against your shoulders with his and on any other given day, you would have pushed him back but after the mission you had just been off, your body gave into the shove. Ricochetting into Bucky who is already holding his hands up and out to steady you as your sway on your aching feet.

Fingers slide over the small of your back, the other wrapping around your arm to hold you upright and just as quickly as you're knocked off balance, you're pushed back into equilibrium with the help of the super solider.

"You right, hon?" Bucky asks, voice softer than earlier, hands lingering on you as he waits for an answer.

For a moment the only thing you can focus on is the gentleness with which he holds you, never having experienced for yourself before only witnessing it on the battlefield and missions as he cared for women and children, soft hands and even softer tone guiding them to safety under his protection. It stirs something within you, something deep in your chest and even deeper in your gut, heat blooming where it should not. He is your teammate, your mission partner, maybe a friend on your good days so why were you feeling like you wanted him to hold you forever, to never move his hand from the small of your back, to grip you a little tighter, to... no.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you shake the thoughts away, the world swaying a little as your head moves in rapid succession. "Just a little tired."

Bucky does not remove his hands but the pressure on your arm lessens.

"Need me to carry you?" he teases, lips quirking in a smirk.

You debate taking him up on his offer not just because you are beyond exhausted but because you want to have him close. Find out if the muscles that fill out his shirt work, to feel the cold of his arm, his heartbeat, stubble on your forehead as he presses a kiss to your hairline. What would he kiss like? Is he someone who rushes with heavy breaths and lots of tongue or is he soft and slow pulling moans and gasps from you like honey from a jar? Would he hold your cheeks, stroking his thumb over your skin or keep you close with a hand on the back of your neck? Is he the type to savour the feel of your mouth on his or does he explore, tasting the skin of your neck and collarbones, following the line of your shoulder, then back and down and down and-

"Hey, kid! You alright?" You're shaken out of your thoughts, body swaying as Bucky tries to get your attention. "Do you need to go to the medic?"

"I... no....I'm..." your stuttering does nothing to ease the growing tension radiating from Bucky. "I'm okay, I just got a little distracted. I'm okay." You pull your body out of his grip, bumping into Sam as you wretch yourself free.

Another pair of hands grip your shoulders and hold you upright but even as Sam holds you with the same gentleness Bucky did, there is no fire, no static beginning to buzz in your fingertips, it's just Sam.

"Are you sure? Did you hit your head or something?" Concern creases Bucky's forehead as he ducks his head to get a better look at you. He clasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing your gaze up as he scans your eyes for concussion. Blue eyes frantically search yours and you feel the heat blooming again.

"Buck, I'm fine." you shake your face free, pushing against his shoulders to create distance in an effort to smother the fire building under your skin. "I've just finished a week-long mission, I'm tired and I stink and I just want to get this over with."

Sam's hands loosen on your shoulders as you step forward out from between them. "Honey-" Bucky tries again but you hold up a hand to cut him off.

"James, I'm fine. I just got distracted for a second thinking about which one you stole my body wash." the attempt to change the subject is weak but it's better than standing there with him so close. "I'm gonna see if I can get his meeting over and done with-" you jab your thumb towards the end of the hall. "and then if you don't hear from me by tonight, then you can come and check on me but let me shower and get back to being a human, yeah?"

Step by step you inch away from the two until you are far enough away you can turn and head to the door with heated cheeks and a racing heart. Fuck.

----

"What did you do to her, man?" Sam accuses, shoving Bucky's arm.

"I didn't do anything!" Bucky shrugs as he starts to go over the last few minutes in his mind but nothing stands out as out of the ordinary.

"Well, you obviously did something. I've never seen her freaked out like that" Sam gestures towards your retreating figure.

"Do you think it was the body wash thing 'cause I only used it 'cause I had nothing left." Bucky's confession is whispered, afraid you might hear him and come back for revenge. He knows how pedantic you are about your bath and body products but he really did run out of his usual soap and he wasn't not going to wash himself. "Plus it smells nice, I like the way she smells."

Sam squints at Bucky, trying to connect the pieces as to whether or not his friends had something more than they were letting on.

"I'll buy her some more in the morning." Bucky nods, turning his attention the the sound of the door closing at the end of the hall.

"I don't think it was the body wash, Buck."

Eddie Munson being totally in love with his best friend, then one morning after a night of drinking and pot, he wakes up with you tucked safely under his arms, in his bed... with no recollection of why you were there. The poor guys just really worried, because he doesn’t want the first.. something to have happened, and not even be able to remember it!

Eddie's initially surprised, but not panicked when he wakes up with a body beside his. He's the town freak, sure, but some chicks are into that, and this wouldn't be the first time he's woken up to feel skin-against-skin. But when he glances down and catches your face- your nose, your lips, your chin tucked into his chest, he blanches.

He's not particularly smooth, and certainly not good in a crisis. He doesn't think to gently ease you off of his chest or replace his arm with a pillow so that you don't notice you're being transferred- no, instead he darts out from beneath you, and your bleary eyes blink open in concern when you hit the mattress below.

"What- Eddie?" You ask, in your sweet voice, the one that Eddie notices is raspy, and if it's raspy for the reasons he thinks it's raspy he'll quit weed for good. And booze- he'll never black himself out again for as long as he lives if he'd missed a night of hearing that voice.

"I'm half naked." He notes, looking down at his bare, tattooed chest, "Are you wearing clothes?"

You nod, peering tentatively beneath the blankets to double check, "Yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we- I don't remember anything. And you're in my bed. And I'm shirtless. And I probably had so much last night."

"You did," You laugh, carefree and easy as you stretch out your sore muscles, "You don't remember anything because you were so far gone you tried lighting a pretzel stick. And I was in your bed because you made me watch a horror movie while we were high and I was too scared to be on the couch. And you always sleep shirtless."

All valid points. Eddie scratches lightly at his abdomen, "So you're saying we didn't- y'know? Do anything?"

"Relax. We both kept our pants on."

"Good." He nods, shoulders loosening from weight he hadn't realized was piled on them until it was gone, "I wouldn't have wanted to do that to you while we were drunk."

One of your brows raises, and like most of your facial expressions, this one sends a wave of impending doom over Eddie- he's so fucked- "Would you want to do that to me while we're sober?"

Eddie hopes that his flyaway curls, made even messier by his pillows, cover the pink parts of his face. He's usually a smooth-talker, never one to stutter but he's never managed to smart off to your face- no, in front of you he folds instead.

"I didn't say that." He manages, his hands finding purchase on his hips, "You're putting words in my mouth."

"Are they untrue?" You ask, brow only arching further, as a sadistic grin begins spreading over your face like you may be looking to steal Christmas from the Whos, "Because the only thing that did happen was you woke up with a semi."

"That just happens sometimes." Eddie's telling the truth, but in this particular instance, it could have had something to do with your perfume filling his nose, blacking out his senses, "That doesn't mean-"

"You've still got it." You refrain from glancing at Eddie's waistline, but you don't need to, "It came back when I started teasing you."

"You are ogling me." Eddie states, faux hurt in his tone as he fights a losing battle, "And I can't believe you'd strip me down to such base instincts without considering the deep nuance I hold."

"You'd better strip yourself down for a cold shower," You snicker, turning away and giving Eddie a truly unfair shot of your mostly-bare back where your tank top has ridden down your torso, "Or I think you're gonna nuance all over your pants."

The Sexiest Thing Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: What's the sexiest thing a girl can wear? The boys of Corroded Coffin debate. Contains: Virgins, a stolen catalog, an Eddie Fantasy, a quick exit. Words: 500ish

"It's the black lace, man," Grant declares.

"Look at the silky white ones, though!" Jeff points to the page in the catalog he'd pilfered on his way to take out the trash. "All those straps would just get in the way and waste valuable time! Simple is sexy!"

"The red one is the hottest, and you losers know it," Gareth argues. "Turn back, I wanna look again."

"I don't want to be sitting next to you while you're gettin' your jollies!" Grant spits.

"Getting your jollies?" Gareth questions. "What is this, an after-school special?"

"Alright, Eddie, you gotta settle this," Jeff sighs.

Eddie jumps in surprise when the catalog hits him in the chest and pulls him out of his daydream.

"What?" he asks, looking down at the open pages of heavily hair-sprayed women frolicking in their underwear, then back up at the three bandmates staring at him.

"Which one's the sexiest?" Jeff reminds him.

"Please don't answer that," Gareth groans. "You and her have already ruined my life three times today."

Eddie could easily ruin it again, because when practice had ended and Jeff had pulled out the catalog and the boys hovered over it to take in the closest thing a teenage boy could get to porn…

Eddie had something else on his mind.

Because the sexiest thing he's ever seen can't be found in a catalog. Especially not the kind Jeff's mom would get in the mail.

The sexiest thing a girl can wear isn't leather or lace or silk or straps or wires. (Why are there wires?)

It's a Hellfire Club shirt.

With nothing underneath.

Well, maybe a pair of panties, just so he has something to take off.

The #1 image in Eddie Munson's Spank Bank is the girl who loves him, approaching him slowly while he sits on the bed. He can see her nipples poking through the thin white fabric of her Hellfire Club shirt. The shirt's a little curled on the bottom edge, rolled up just enough that he can see a flash of panties. He doesn't care what color they are, as long as they're soaked. And he knows they are, just for him. Her perfect breasts jiggle as she approaches, making the demon between them look like he's nodding in approval. Oh yeah.

"Dude, which one are you nodding at?" Jeff asks.

Eddie, annoyed at having his fantasy interrupted again before she can crawl onto the bed and straddle him, glares at the virgin trio.

"There is no wrong answer, you fools," he sighs. "If a girl is willing to show you her underwear, it's perfect, and you should tell her that. And thank her. And probably thank God, while you're at it."

"What if it's Granny Panties?" Grant wrinkles his nose.

"Then you should ask your mom to get dressed," Gareth laughs.

A scuffle ensues, and Eddie is grateful for it, as it allows him to shuffle out of the garage and into his other half's bedroom before any of his younger bandmates notice the tent in his pants.

going on a date with bucky barnes and it all goes so nicely, so sweetly, so smoothly. you both had so much fun, chemistry and a good time. he's charming, witty and he keeps flirting and complimenting you at every chance he gets. he held your hand all night long, neither of you even noticed it, it just happened naturally, your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling and both of your hearts are at ease.. that's until the date comes to an end, it's time to pay and you ask him if he wants to go 50/50.

that would be the first time he lets go of your hand that night, it's unintentional just happened out of pure shock. "50... what.." the confusion on his face, you'd think he's an alien seeing earth the first time.

"you know.. 50/50.. we'll split the bill between us"

"split the bill?" he asks and you just nod, he'd blink at you, "50/50.. splitting the bill.. what is this about, i asked you on a date"

now it's your turn to be the alien seeing earth for the first time, "we are on a date, bucky. this is a date"

"no, it's not a date."

"it is a date"

"you're asking me to split the bill, this is not a date"

"oh my god sam was right, you can be such a drama queen." you laugh, he just stares at you, blankly. "it might've been a while since the last time you went on a date so let me break it down for you.. these days, people who go on dates split the bill, they go 50/50" you shrug, "it's normal"

"it's normal? you've done it before?"

you nod, "every date i've been on has been 50/50 yeah"

bucky nearly flips the table. bucky who spent all of his three dollars in the 1940's trying to win a teddybear for a girl he had a crush on, bucky who used to save up most of his income in an old shoe box underneath his bed so he can take his girl to a nice diner, bucky who went to the florist to get you a bouquet of roses and didn't even ask for the price just handed his credit card because to him your smile is priceless, bucky is about to have a stroke.

"you've never been on a date" he says, face still blank.

"yes i have"

"no you haven't. this is your first date." he says, "i'm your first time." he smirks and you blush at the possible implication. "50/50.." he scoffs under his breath, "what else are you gonna tell me next? i should walk on the inside of the sidewalk? keep my jacket on when you're cold? sleep further from the door? not open doors for you? jesus sweetheart what has the world come to?"

you hide your smile, you love it when he rambles like that, he's so calm yet so offended all at once somehow, it's funny and endearing. "what's wrong with walking on the inside of the sidewalk?" you joke and he rolls his eyes making you laugh, "so.. no 50/50? are you sure?" you ask one last time, hands on your purse on your lap.

he keeps his eyes on you as he pays the bill, glaring playfully, gets up and pulls out your chair before putting his black leather jacket on your shoulders, "no doll," he offers you his hand which you quickly hold, intertwining your fingers with his, and opens the door with his metal hand, "no 50/50."

bucky who sleeps on the floor because even after all these years he still hasn't gotten used to sleeping on a soft mattress.

he lays next to you until you're asleep then slips off to sleep on his make shift bed on the hard wood floor in the living room.

one day you shift in bed and feel the emptiness besides you, waking you up so you get up and look for him, all sleepy, eyes barely even open, you don't even see him until you almost trip over his feet, "bucky.. what.." he wakes up immediately and you're both distraught at the sight of each other, "what are you doing here.. why aren't you in bed.."

he sits up, feeling bad that you're awake, out of bed and worried about him, "i.. some times i can't sleep in bed" he admits quietly as you sit next to him on the thin sheet he's put on the floor,

"how long have you been sneaking off and sleeping here?" you ask him, knowing bucky so you know this very likely definitely isn't the first time. he'd try to avoid your gaze but he knows you so he knows there's no escaping when you want to know something.

"longer than i'd like to admit" he'd try to joke but drops it when he sees your face, "always" he sighs, "i'm sorry doll, i know i shouldn't, it's just.. hard to shake off old habits when they're this deep in my bones"

with your hands on his tired face, you pull him down until you're both laying back onto the sheet-bed. "what are you.."

"shhh i'm sleepy" you mumble, burying your head into his bare chest, close to the chain of his dog-tags, his right arm underneath you and his metal arm draped over your body, it's heavy but it's comfortable. it's exactly what you need. "don't ever apologise or sneak out of bed without me ever again" you whisper before closing your eyes.

bucky can't help but smile, how did he get so lucky? he doesn't know, doesn't even think he deserves it but he'd be a fool if he lets it go. not to say he's not a fool currently and perpetually.

he kisses the top of your head, holding you close, keeping most of your body on his, technically, you're not even sleeping on the floor. "i'll owe you a massage tomorrow, won't i?"

"oh you absolutely will"

Bucky Barnes doesn't get jealous, he gets possessive. It's an immediate response in his brain; the minute he sees someone giving you eyes or looking at you with a little too much lust, he has to let them know you're spoken for.

It's not your fault you're good looking, but Bucky wishes that men wouldn't stare at you like a piece of meat. So, he takes matters into his own hands.

Bucky marks your neck frequently, the moment he notices the colour of the hickeys fading, there's new ones cropping up immediately.

Like now, you're in his bed, button up shirt open as Bucky marks your chest and neck.

"This is quite caveman like, Barnes." You tell him between gasps at the feel of his warm mouth on your neck.

He hums against your throat, and then pulls back. "Want me to stop then, doll?"

You roll your eyes as you tug the long strands of his hair, "Didn't say that did I?"

"Brat," his blue eyes shine with mischief as he attaches his mouth to your neck again, this time biting making you squeal.

"Bucky!" he laughs at your surprise.

"They'll leave you alone for like a week." he sounds very pleased with himself. "Even John will stop staring at you."

"He really doesn't Buck," this little feud with them is hilarious to you and the rest of the team, because they can't help but rile each other up over nothing.

"If you say so doll," Bucky kisses your lips and then readjusts your shirt. "Wanna go for lunch?"

His chin rests on your chest as he looks up at you. His blue eyes look even bluer today, like all the stress has melted out of them.

"Sure, baby." He really doesn't get jealous, he gets possessive and part of that possessiveness comes with showing you off right after he's marked you up. He can't wait for John to not be able to look you in the eye.

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the tower isn’t what it used to be. no more clean metal shine. no more stark’s weird robot jazz echoing off the walls. now there’s throw blankets that don’t match, mismatched mugs in the kitchen sink, and half a pizza box abandoned on the coffee table under a forgotten tablet glowing faint blue. the new avengers are spread across the sectional like dropped laundry. yelena belova was upside down with her legs hanging off the top, scrolling on her phone like the fate of the universe depends on it. john walker's asleep with one arm tossed over his eyes, pretending not to be listening. and you, you’re tucked in next to bucky barnes cause it’s always been that way.

his arm’s around your waist, the metal one, heavy and cool through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. your legs are half across his lap. there’s a blanket barely clinging to both of you. you lean in slowly, kissing the corner of his mouth first, he hums something. so you do it again, softer. your lips trail across the edge of his jaw, warm and lazy. and he finally looks at you, real slow, real tired.

“you tryin’ to distract me?” he says, voice rough with sleep or maybe something else.

“from what?” you whisper. “yelena's tiktok rabbit hole? pretty sure the world’ll keep turning.”

he chuckles, breath fogging warm against your temple. “you’re gonna get us kicked off the couch.”

“then we’ll take the beanbag. better view of the stars anyway.”

there’s a long pause, no one talking, just the low thrum of the tower’s power system and distant sirens down in the city, muffled by double pane glass and altitude. bucky doesn’t say much when he’s tired. doesn’t need to. his hand settles over yours, thumb dragging lazy circles over your skin.

your powers flicker under your skin when you’re this close. heat like static behind your ribs. reality bends easier around you when he touches you. he doesn’t flinch anymore when it happens. the way light bends a little around your fingertips. how your shadow twitches half a second slower than your body.

“you’re glowing again,” he mumbles.

“can’t help it.” you grin against his throat. “you make me all… photonic.”

“that a scientific term?”

“yup. real cutting edge. avengers approved.”

he turns toward you fully then, presses a slow kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then your lips. it’s nothing hurried. like sunday mornings. like breath.

near you, yelena mutters, “jesus. get a room.”

you don’t look away. neither does bucky. just smirks against your mouth.

a/n: i actually hate this so much! but forgive me for i was puking my brains out yesterday when i wrote this.

what was older!eddies reaction to the first time reader came home from going out with friends? just drunk and clingy

this is my favorite genre and activity is getting drunk and then being clingy and silly. need to do it with my fave of all faves!!! contains silly drunk reader and sweet older!eddie. no smut. just fluff. and tw- gina.

The doorbell sounded once, twice, three times before it was going off in short, annoying successions. Eddie groaned in annoyance, standing from his recliner.

"Easy! Alright? The fuck-" He looked out the peephole, half expecting to see Gina, furious about something. He was pleased to find you there instead.

"Open the dooooorrrrrr!" You whined, half swaying, leaning against the brick. "I need to pee, Ed, hurry."

Eddie fought back a smirk, twisting the lock and opening the front door. "Hey, bunny,"

"Hi," Your face melted, oozing with a drunk smile, eyes glassy from the countess beers you'd had. "Can I come pee?"

"Of course you can." Eddie said around a laugh, holding the door open with his foot, offering his hand to you. "Watch your step, baby." He muttered, nodding towards the step under the doorframe. You crossed it dramatically, taking a big, wide legged step in.

"I didn't know you were coming over." Eddie shut the door, watching you stumble down the hall towards the guest bathroom. "I thought you were out with your friends."

"I was," You muttered, behind the cracked door of the bathroom, the room already beginning to spin as you sat. "But I wanted to come see you. I knew Brielle was gone."

"Yeah? What'd you want to come see me for?" Eddie grinned teasingly, walking down the hall towards you.

"I wanted to sleep over." You admitted, staggering against the doorway, holding the frame for balance. "I wanted you to rub my back."

Eddie barked out a laugh, your bottom lip jutting in a pout. "Rub your back?"

"Yes, Ed." You whined. "You always do it good an-and it- hic!- it always puts me right to sleep." Your words were beginning to jumble, the effects of too much alcohol starting to take over.

"Alright. I can do that for ya, I suppose." Eddie sighed dramatically, holding his arm out for you, placing an anchoring hand on your back as he guided you to his bedroom.

"Lemme get you a shirt to sleep in. I've got-" He turned around, finding you already naked. That had to be a record, he was convinced. Drunk and that coordinated?

You were already crawling into the bed, shoes and clothes kicked off, climbing under the cool sheets that smelled just like Eddie.

"Hold on, bunny, you want a shirt?" Eddie grabbed the sheet before you pulled it up, earning a huffy whine from you.

"No," You whined. "Want you to rub my back, Ed, already told you."

Eddie fought back a grin. "Demanding little thing, aren't ya?" He shook his head playfully. You didn't reply, your cheek smushed to the pillow, already beginning to drift off.

Eddie slipped beside you anyways, snorting lightly when you rolled over on him, leg hiked up over his waist, arm slapped over his chest, face in his shoulder. Still, he rubbed your back, calloused hands gliding over the bare skin, up and down your spine in small circles, the way you liked until you were snoring lightly.

He knew you'd be sick tomorrow, hungover and hurting with a headache, with the spins you always got. And he'd do the same thing then, coddling you, rubbing your head to soothe the ache away. Content in his care.

You turn approximately seven shades of red.

i wish lmao

SEVEN SHADES OF DOOMED | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader | Eddie Munson x Y/N

Summary: You, a flustered classmate, get roped into Hellfire—and Eddie Munson’s full attention—whether you're ready or not.

-

It happens in the middle of the cafeteria.

Of course it does.

You're minding your business—eating your sad excuse for a sandwich, making occasional eye contact with your best friend who’s halfway through reenacting her latest dream about marrying one of the Duffer twins (the hot one, not the weird one), when it happens.

"Eyyyyyyy, look who’s sitting all alone."

You don't even need to look up. The voice is unmistakable—equal parts gremlin and rockstar, loud enough to turn heads, dramatic enough to make your stomach drop like an elevator.

Eddie Munson, crown prince of chaos, Hellfire overlord, and undisputed reason you’re currently forgetting how to breathe.

He slides into the seat across from you like he owns the place. Hair wild, rings clinking against your table, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He's got that look—the one that spells trouble in all caps.

"What’s up, heartbreaker?" he says, leaning forward like you're sharing secrets instead of a juice box and a bag of chips.

You blink.

Then, you turn red.

Not a little red. Not a "just jogged up the stairs" pink. You turn seven shades of red, exactly.

Like a cursed Pantone palette: bashful blush, humiliated hibiscus, mortified maroon—you name it, you’re wearing it.

And Eddie? Oh, he notices.

"Oooohhh shit," he cackles, eyes lighting up. "You are blushing. This is incredible. I didn’t know people could actually turn that color."

“Shut up,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands like that’s gonna do anything. Your fingers are on fire. Your ears are boiling. You’re fully convinced you’re going to pass away in the cafeteria.

Death by Eddie Munson.

"Don’t be shyyyy," he teases, leaning in even closer. You can smell his cologne—cheap, but somehow perfectly, utterly Eddie—and see the way his eyes crinkle when he’s laughing. "I came over here to ask if you wanted to come to Hellfire tonight. We need someone to play the elf ranger ‘cause Gareth rolled a nat 1 and got his character cursed into a tree."

You peek between your fingers.

“You’re inviting me?”

Eddie shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why not? You’ve got elf energy. Also…” He lowers his voice to a fake whisper. “I like when you get all flustered like this. It’s very entertaining.”

Your soul leaves your body. You are now astral projecting. Floating above the cafeteria in shame.

“Eddie—”

“I mean it,” he says, interrupting your spiral. “Come by. You can sit next to me. I’ll even let you borrow one of my dice. The sparkly ones. Only for special people.”

You open your mouth to respond—something witty, something cool, something even vaguely coherent—but instead, you make a noise that sounds suspiciously like a kettle boiling over. Steam included.

Eddie just laughs again, softer this time. “You’re cute when you’re panicking, y’know that?”

He winks—winks—and before you can combust or throw yourself into the nearest trash can, he’s already on his feet.

“See you at seven, elf ranger,” he says, tossing you a grape from your fruit cup. “Don’t be late.”

You catch it, stunned. Still red. Still stupid. Still completely doomed.

You turn to your friend.

She’s already halfway across the cafeteria, speed-walking toward the table where the rest of your friends are sitting. You can hear her stage-whispering before she even gets there:

“YOU GUYS. IT HAPPENED.”

Four heads whip around to stare at you in perfect unison. One of them shrieks.

You consider crawling under the table and staying there forever.

Eddie? He just grins at you over his shoulder as he walks away, smug as hell.

And you—seven shades of red and counting—cannot wait for 7PM.

--

Since there wasn't a character included, I assumed you wanted an Eddie story. If not, feel free to DM again :)

Eddie who owns a magic 8 ball and likes to use it to annoy you.

"Hey Eds, how about date night on Saturday?" You ask.

Eddie picks up his magic 8 ball and shakes it and looks at the reply before telling you,

"My sources say no."

"Eddie." You give him a glare and he shakes it again.

"My reply is no."

"I will kill you if you don't stop it right now." You threaten, he shakes it again.

"Don't count on it?" He replies weary of your response.

You smack the magic 8 ball out of his hand.

Eddie’s the type of a boyfriend to just whip his dick out and go, "Eh? Eh?" As if asking, "Nice, right? Makes you wanna do things to me, right?"

God forbid he's wearing sweatpants at home. That's easy access to just drop trou and give you a good look. Surely if you just see his penis, you'll be like, "Yeah, I wanna suck that thing."

That's what romance has devolved into after three years together. He'll take his cock out and go, "You wanna?"

Unfortunately, it works on you, that's why he keeps doing it. You'll usually shrug like, "Yeah, why the hell not, I got nothin' else to do."

Ah, romance.

Masterlist

a blurb about clingy!eddie x reader

i’m rewatching bmw and i’m obsessed with how much of simp cory is for topanga. i have like 3 blurbs based off bmw and this is one of them.

not proofread (also another crack fic, i can’t write seriously)

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

He is so clingy

“Eddie,” I huff, squirming as I try to pry his arms from around my waist. “I have class in like, two minutes. You are physically holding me prisoner.”

He buries his face into the crook of my neck like a giant, dramatic baby raccoon (which he is). “Nooo,” he groans, voice muffled. “I’m cold. You’re warm. You don’t need math, I'll take care of you. Stay here forever.”

“You are literally sweating,” I point out, swatting at his hand. “You're the human equivalent of an opossum.”

“And you love it,” he says with a smirk, looking up at me with those huge, ridiculous baby cow eyes. “Don’t lie.”

I try to hold strong. I really do. But then this idiot lets out a whine

“Eddie,” I say slowly, warningly.

He drops to the floor.

“Oh my God.”

And then he wraps his arms around my leg.

Like a damn clingy raccoon.

“Noooo,” he wails, dramatically flopping as I attempt to walk, dragging his full-grown adult body like a ball and chain. “You’re mine! You belong to me! Knowledge is a scam! Don’t go!”

“Eddie, I swear to God—”

“Just skip class,” he begs, now fully horizontal on the floor, arms locked around my shin. “who needs learning when you have sir knight edward munson worshipping you hand and foot”, I scoff “more like court jester”

I glance around the hallway. A few underclassmen are staring. Mike walks by and mutters, “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” I snapped back. “He just has... attachment issues.”

Eddie looks up at me from the ground, wide-eyed and totally shameless. “I love you more than all your teachers combined.”

“Wow,” I say, deadpan. “That’s such a high bar.”

“I’d throw wheeler into the trash for you.”

“You wouldn’t even get up for me,” I say, trying to kick my leg free. “You’re just—”

He licks my knee.

I freeze. “Did you just—”

“Desperate times, baby,” he grins. “Desperate. Times.”

I sigh, defeated. “5 more minutes. That’s it.”

Eddie’s whole body lights up. He jumps up like he wasn’t just being dragged across linoleum. “Ha! Victory!”

“You are literally the worst.”

“And yet,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me again, “you love me.”

-

my requests are open!!! send anything you write me to write-i mean anything (that’s eddie x reader at least)

eddie blurb about reader who is very preppy dressing up all punk/goth for one of eddies gigs at a bar to fit in with the crowd.

he likes it alottttt

ty for requesting :D — eddie plans to take his preppy!gf to the hideout for the first time (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 0.8k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

“Do you like?” you wonder aloud, with your arms splayed at your sides and a smile brightening your face. 

You watch wordlessly as Eddie’s wide brown eyes rake over your body — now intricately adorned with black and silver instead of your usual pastels. A flurry of butterflies bloom in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost shy, like he’s seeing you for the very first time.

Eddie opens his mouth but nothing comes out right away. Instead, he stutters, trying and failing to come up with a joke to conceal how flustered he’s gone. “Yeah. I—I like. I like very much, actually.”

His sneakers scuff the worn carpet of his bedroom floor as he takes a slow step toward you. He inhales the scent of your familiar, fruity perfume — a striking contrast to your darker appearance. You’ve teased your hair, smudged eyeliner beneath your eyes; you’ve even traded your delicate, flowery jewelry for chunkier silver ones. 

He reaches out a ringed hand and brushes his fingers over your pleated leather skirt, nothing more than an excuse to touch you. His eyes catch a run in your fishnets, obviously borrowed and tucked into a pair of used boots. He has to force his gaze to meet yours.

“Where’d all this come from?” Eddie asks, peering at you with chocolate button eyes half-hidden behind long lashes.

“The mall,” you shrug. “…And also Robin’s closet.”

“That checks out,” he laughs and steps back again. “C’mon. Give me a spin. Let me look at you.”

You smile with your tongue between your teeth and twirl before him with glee. Your skirt fans out at your thighs, flashing the edge of your fishnets and a brief glance of your light pink panties. Eddie has to remind himself to breathe.

“What’d you do all this for?” he lilts.

“For you, dummy,” you giggle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just— wanted to fit in with your friends, you know?”

The shy smile you give him makes his chest ache. “You’re sweet,” he hums. “But you didn’t have to do this, you know that, right?”

‘Cause I love you the way you are, he doesn’t say.

You think you hear it, anyway.

“I know,” you insist, dragging out the vowel like a sheepish child as you take a hesitant step toward him. “But I wanted to match my boyfriend. He’s a really famous rockstar, you know?”

Eddie tries not to melt at your feet when you close the distance between you. He wouldn’t say performing in front of his friends a handful of drunks makes him famous exactly, but he appreciates the spirit. 

“I did hear that, actually,” he nods sarcastically.

“I even wrote his name on the hem,” you confess vaguely, smoothing your palms over his chest. “’Cause I love him and everything.”

Eddie tilts his chin to his chest, searching for his name on your skirt. “Really?” he wonders aloud, interest visibly piqued. Even more so, when you smile.

“Not there, silly,” you laugh.

His pink mouth forms a pretty ‘o’ shape when realization runs over him like melted honey. “Oh…” he hums, eyes wide and glimmering with intrigue. A funny feeling hits him in his chest and in the confines of his worn jeans. “Well, now I have to see it—”

You slap his hand away when he reaches for your skirt.

“No! You have to wait!” you insist, always so girlishly stubborn.

Eddie’s face scrunches like you’ve physically pained him. “Why?” he whines.

“Because you’ll make us late!” you argue, eyes narrowed with a faux-seriousness. “And I didn’t get all dressed up for nothin’, Eddie Munson.”

“I just want a quick peek. That’s all.”

“...Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie nods, eyes wide and sincere, fingers crossed at his side.

You lift the front of your skirt, giving him a proper view of your pretty panties. His eyes fall immediately to his name, written in a sloppy cursive with fading black ink, right beneath the dainty little bow at the center of your underwear. 

Air rushes from his lungs like you’ve punched him in the chest. He goes dizzy with it, too. “Woah…” he mumbles, almost to himself, as his dark eyes glaze over.

“Do you like?” you repeat, more quietly this time, and with an air of subdued mischief. 

You watch his tongue dart slowly across his pink lips. Like he’s more concentrated than he’s ever been in his life. Like you’re a piece of dessert standing before him that he can’t wait to dig his teeth into.

Eddie doesn’t answer you with words. He’s forgotten them all by now. Instead, he just sinks to his knees before you.

When he presses a chaste kiss to where you’ve stitched his name in your panties — then another, where you throb like a heartbeat for him — you realize you wouldn’t mind being late all that much. It was Eddie you got dressed up for, after all.