Latest Posts by redangelrosie - Page 3
Welcome 🌹
Hello!! My name is Rosie, and I'm a writer!!
Requests: OPEN!!
Please make sure you read the rules and what I write before requesting anything.
All my works are posted on the masterlist!
Find my anon list here!
I am currently writing and taking requests for:
Softwilly
Isaacwhy
BigT
Yumi
Larry Croft
Schlatt
Miguel O'hara
The characters that I am no longer writing for:
Eddie Munson
Steve Harrington
Billy Hargrove
Normal Fic Tag List
none yet <3
Rules and What I Write 🌹
Genres I write: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, sometimes angst
Rules:
In order to interact with any smut posts, you must be 18+
I won't tolerate any racism, homophobia, bigotry, etc.
Understand that I have the right to refuse answering an ask or writing a request
Please remain kind
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK PLEASE <3
Find who I write for here!
Masterlist 🌹
Read my rules before requesting <3
Key:
Fluff = 🌷
Hurt/Comfort = 🌙
Smut = ✨
Angst = 🥀
Softwilly
headcanons:
vamp goth!reader [🌷]
bf softwilly [🌷]
blurbs:
reader with big thighs [🌷]
tattoos [🌷]
Isaacwhy
headcanons:
bf isaacwhy [🌷]
vamp goth!reader [🌷]
blurbs:
slowdancing in the rain [🌷]
BigT
headcanons:
vamp goth!reader [🌷]
blurbs:
tanner with his glasses [🌷]
Yumi
headcanons:
vamp goth!reader [🌷]
blurbs:
pda [🌷]
Larry
headcanons:
vamp goth!reader [🌷]
bf larry [🌷]
Schlatt
Nothing yet <3
(NO LONGER WRITING CHARACTERS BELOW)
Eddie Munson
imagines:
eddie finds out you play guitar [🌷]
eddie x baker!reader [🌷]
blurbs:
pussydrunk eddie [✨]
tattoo artist!reader [n/a]
eddie being a girl dad [🌷]
baking a cake for eddie with your daughter [🌷]
Steve Harrington
imagines:
steve taking care of reader on their period [🌷]
Robin Buckley
blurbs:
stargazing with robin [🌷]
Imagine 1 // E.M.
Imagine Eddie Munson hears you play guitar for the first time <3
Warnings: None
Genre: Fluff
A/N: I didn't proofread this, but I hope it's good :]
You had kept it a secret for the first month-or-so of your relationship.
Sure, you knew Eddie would love it, but you were also nervous.
The idea of him wanting you to play for him and you messing up made your stomach churn.
So, you kept it a secret.
Until...
Eddie decided to pay you a surprise visit.
He knew that your parents were gone for the weekend, and he stocked up on ice cream and horror movies.
With a plastic bag in his hand, he used a spare key you gave him to open the door.
The door was barely shut behind him when he heard music from your room upstairs.
When it dawned on him that you were playing the guitar, he felt an explosion in his chest.
'Thrilled' cannot even begin to describe what Eddie was feeling.
The bag in his hand was immediately dropped to the floor, and he was sprinting up the stairs.
You couldn't hear the man stumbling up the stairs through your playing.
Right as you were playing a particularly difficult riff, Eddie busted into your room, causing you to jump.
Before you could process what was happening, he yelled,
"Why couldn't you tell me you could play?!"
Your face was flushed red, and you stared at him, stunned.
Eddie rushed over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
"You sounded great, doll."
That eased your nerves, and you smiled at him.
You finally responded,
"I was afraid I would mess up in front of you."
He let out a low chuckle.
"Honey, I mess up all the time. No need to be nervous."
You nodded in response, and Eddie smiled as he sat on the floor opposite where you were sitting on your bed.
"Now, why don't you play that badass riff again, sweetheart?"
requested by @petersthree
cackling over the likely scenario that, if the ST characters came to 2022, all the d&d players would lose their shit over the fact that we still play it and are on edition 5e
Steve with reader who has a cold, just generic full on fluff with helping her have a warm bath, nothing spicy just domestic? :) <3 ly always
18+ for general nudity theres NOT smut/ any graphic descriptions, pure fluff! thank you for your request doting steve is the best! ly anon 1k wc
"Oh, gross. What the fuck's happening in here?” Steve asks, bursting through your bedroom door like a maniac.
You flinch awake, a wave of used up tissues falling off of your chest. "Steve?" you ask, though your nose is so plugged up that it comes out like, "Steeb?"
"I think my nose just started running, it's like the air is eighty percent vapor rub."
You pull your bed sheets over your face to hide from your boyfriend for about five seconds before the air gets too hot and you have to pull it down to just under your lips.
His eyes soften when he gets a good look at you. "Shit, you don't look good."
He strides straight to your window and throws it open and then to your side, tugging the sweat-damp sheets off of your tired body.
"I told you I was sick."
He sits by your knees, hands landing familiarly over your struggling chest. He spreads his hand, feels the clammy material with a frown. The smoothing of his hand over your skin is nice.
"You said sick, not dying."
"You're so dramatic," you complain weakly, your voice thick.
He pats your chest once. "Alright bub, up we come," he says, arms slipping under your back.
You moan as he pulls you up and in, his chin pushing over the dip of your shoulder in a hug. He rubs your back. You wish you could breathe through your nose if only to smell his scents, his bergamot and cedarwood, his hairspray and his skin.
"Steve, I'll make you sick."
"Sacrifices."
You're sweaty and too-hot, you smell sick and you look worse and Steve absolutely doesn't care, his skin on yours unflinching.
"I think," Steve says under his breath, pulling back to look down at your feeble hunch, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead, "that you need a bath."
"I'm too tired."
"I'll help you out, yeah? I'm, like, your personal hot male nurse."
You wrinkle your nose at him and the skin around your nostrils feels tight and dry. You wince, wanting to fall into his arms and never get back up again. Steve has other ideas, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leading you into the bathroom. He shuts the toilet lid and sits you down gently.
"I don't want to be naked right now, I'm disgusting," you complain though you don’t really mind, content for him to do as he pleases. You're just happy he’s here.
"You've never been disgusting a day in your life. Icky, maybe. Slimy. Pretty underneath all the dirt, though, babe," Steve says as he turns on the faucet.
He sticks his hand under the stream until he's happy with the temperature and then pulls out a clean towel, tucking it over the towel rack and turning to you, smiling his pretty smile that always manages to calm you down.
You look up at him, breathing through your mouth, head heavy as a bowling ball. He rubs your shoulders lightly.
"Stevie…"
"I know. You're alright. Look, let's get this off you," he says, hands at the hem of your shirt. He helps you undress and encourages you to hang onto his waist as you step out of your pants, his hands waiting to catch you as you climb into the bathtub. It's not necessary – you're not dizzy, only aching and weak – but it makes you happy that he cares that much.
You feel better as the water rises, legs crossed and pulled up to your chest in an effort to maintain some dignity though it really couldn't matter less, your boyfriend having seen and loved on almost every part of you by this point. Steve sits on the lip of the tub with his arms crossed, only moving to reach out and rub the top of your back with the heel of his palm when you cough.
"The steam will clear you out, get you breathing easy again in no time," he promises.
You turn to him, bringing your hands from the water. They get the hip of his trousers regretfully wet as you grip the side of the bath and drop your head into his lap.
Steve heaves a sympathetic sigh and hugs you best he can in your positions. You're so tired and being this sick is miserable but his company, his care and his touch are all invaluable. You melt in his arms, quickly close to dozing.
"Don't fall asleep," he croons jokingly, "I haven't given you your sponge bath."
"You little freak," you murmur. He bursts into laughter, his chuckles rocking you and making the water around you ebb and wave. You feel like laughing too for the first time in at least a few days.
"Sorry I couldn't come see you sooner. I mean, I would've made it happen if I'd known you were this sick, I swear," he says.
"It's okay. I know you would've. I've only been this bad since last night."
"You could've called me."
"You worked overtime, I wouldn't do that to you."
"Do what? Let me take care of you? Shocker, loser, I want to do that. I wanna take care of you all the time."
You grumble into his lap and he mimics the sound fondly, rubbing the edge of your hairline, pushing against it.
"You want me to wash your hair, babygirl?" Made warm with affection his words come out quiet, like his lips aren't fully parted.
"Please?" you whisper.
He guides your head from his lap and strokes your face before giving you a good pat on the cheek. "I'm gonna have you clean as a whistle in no time," he says with pride. He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Then I'm changing your gross sheets. You couldn't pay me to cuddle on those bad boys. There's, like, an eighth grade science experiment happening in there."
"Bet I could persuade you," you say, not believing it yourself.
"You definitely could. Dunk your head, I wanna wash your hair before the water gets cold."
i’d take away your pain if i could
Summary: When reader gets cramps during movie night, Steve does everything he can to comfort them. Classic hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: mentions of pain (cramps)
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★
Movie nights with Steve were like heaven on earth. Family Video lets employees bring home movies for free, which lead to this new weekly tradition. There was nothing like doing nothing with him. You’d both don your biggest, comfiest sweats and sprawl out on the couch. Steve supplied the house and whatever movie your heart desired, and you supplied the snacks.
You’d teased about how the trade wasn’t entirely fair, with you spending more money than him, to which he’d responded about how “I’m paying with my ego. What do you think me constantly taking home chick flicks does for my reputation?”
Tonight’s movie was Sixteen Candles. While Steve’s over at the tv mumbling about how stupid the movie’s gonna be and putting in the tape, you try to get comfortable on the couch. Despite having taken pain meds just before you left, the aching hasn’t gotten better. You recognize the storm that’s brewing inside you, the pain your own body is going to unleash, but push it away as Steve turns to you from the tv, the movie beginning to flick across the screen.
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