#like the coat is this light brown coat and the buttons are just. black and yellow eugh

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Sabo, Koala and Vinsmoke Ichiji from One Piece inside a wooden shack, framed like a photo. Also a random guy I made up just for this: he has short hair, is tied with rope to the ceiling and has wide-open eyes. He's not important. Koala is in the front, she's grinning with closed eyes and posing her right hand in victory sign. Her left hand and legs are out of frame, she's the one making the photo. She's wearing pink shirt with white frills and her bordo hat with goggles. Yonji is behind her, crouched down with his face in his hands. He,s wearing white t-shirt and brown trousers. Sabo is on the left, making thumbs up in front of the tied guy, part of his right leg is out of frame. He has wide smile, left side of his face is covered in scar tissue. He's wearing grey boots, blue shirt with white cravat, light blue pants and black coat. On the floor next to him lays empty bucket, water spilling out of it. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 2: First date / Detective x Criminal

Say cheese!

Does going on a mission and waterboarding a guy for informations count as first date? I say yes. Turns out being an evil mercenary for most of your life doesn't necesssery prepare you to the kind of stuff revolutionaries do. Well, people learn all their life!

🔽Fic under readmore🔽 also on Ao3

"Everyone, say cheese!"

Koala, unconcerned that only Sabo followed her instruction, lifted the camera higher and put her hand in victory sign, smiling widely. Careful not to drop it, she pushed the button and a few seconds later the polaroid came out. She took it to fully appreciate the mess before her, forever immortalized on film.

Sabo was smiling from ear to ear and putting both his thumbs up, not caring that spilled water was pulling under his boots. In contrast, Yonji crouched down, put his head in hands and looked like he would prefer to be anywhere else.

The captured guard dangling from the ceiling looked mostly confused, if a little less fearful for his life. Well, that'll need to be corrected.

"Let me seeeee," Sabo whined next to her ear. Still smiling, she pushed his head away without any remorse.

"It's mine now, get your own."

"Oh came on, it's not fair! I lost my camera at the base, you know that!"

"I found it and put it on your desk."

His head snapped. "What? Where?!"

"Next to the paperwork from last week." At his blank stare she added: "You know, the one you were supposed to look over and check if everything's alright before we left two days ago?"

Too late to avoid the trap, Sabo did the only smart thing and changed the subject.

"Man, who's the real red one in your family, your brother or you? Maybe we should call you tomato instead of onion." He left her side and picked up now-empty bucket. "It's been a while since I've seen someone fumble interrogation this badly. Isn't a member of the 'legendary mercenary army' supposed be professional in this things?"

Yonji raised his head, his cheeks blooming red.

"I thought when you're waterboarding someone you lift the water up, not pull the guy down. That's why I used stronger knot here." He pointed at the hook the rope was connected to. "How was I supposed to know it's the other way around!"

"Oh, I was wondering about that," Koala interjected. "Weird way to tie it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" he groaned.

She shrugged. "I thought it was some weird Germa way. People learn all their life."

"Well, I just thought it was funny," said Sabo, before focusing on Yonji again. "Wait, with all the war crimes* under your belt, you never waterboarded anyone before?"

Yonji cringed and sunk his head.

"We weren't tasked with capturing people that often, much less interrogate them. Our employers usually wanted to do that themselves. Confident information and all that," he mumbled from behind his hands. He curled further, which was honestly impressive considering his size. Like a mastiff trying to fit inside the cat basket. She reached her hand to pat his hair.

"There there, it wasn't that bad for the first time."

"We won't tell a soul, promise," Sabo lied. "But I can't talk for this one." He gripped the rope and grinned at their guest. "Are you a talker, sir?"

The prisoner gulped at being in the spotlight again and furiously shook his head.

"No? Oh my, that's so unlucky! If you were a talker, this could go a lot faster," Sabo pouted. "As you can see, my friend over there spilled all the water for you. Which means one of two things; either you'll make it easier for all of us and answer a few questions, or-" He sighed dramatically. "We will have to improvise with what we got. And it's going to be bloody shame if you don't last to the end of it." He flashed him a wide smile with way too much teeth.

Fascinating, Koala thought. I didn't know you can lose all the blood in your face while hanging upside down.

-

Koala plopped on the bench between her boys, handing each an ice-cream cone.

Yonji took his and stared at it for a while before turning to smile at them.

"Is this what you guys usually do on missions? I could get used to it."

Koala scratched her neck. "Well, not exactly usually, but sometimes it goes like that. It's a lot less threatening and a lot more running and sneaking around on most days. With occasional explosion or two." She side-eyed Sabo, who looked annoyingly unrepentant.

"Since it's the first time you were going with us, we picked something more up your line." Sabo licked his ice-cream. "Of course, if we knew how much you'll screw it up, we would have given you something different to fuck."

Koala whacked him in the back of the head.

"We agreed not to talk about this anymore! You made fun of him enough already!" She looked back at Yonji. "And why are you blushing!"

"You really are a tomato!"

"Argh, I swear..." Koala huffed and went back to her food. "Why do I even bother."

This just get her twin snickers from the sides. She rolled her eyes but smiled. It went well all things considered. Their captive's tongue seemed to loosen a lot once he realized that everyone in the room was clinically insane, which she was more than happy to contribute to, so the mission went smoothly afterwards.

"One thing i don't understand," she broke the silence. "Why did that guy want your autograph? You don't even have a wanted poster."

"Oh, it's probably because my family is technically main villains of a surprisingly popular vintage comic strip from North Blue. I'm the green one."

Koala nodded.

"Yeah, that makes- You're WHAT?!"

*I apologize for insinuating One Piece world has anything like Geneva convention. It does not.

#In which Yonji somehow started to hang out with revolutionaries on accident and then runs from home. Or something. #vinshippingweek2024 #my stufff #katsuart #katsu writes #yonji #sabo #koala #one piece #vinsmoke yonji #revolutionary sabo #revolutionary koala #koala x sabo x yonji #kosayo? #sabo one piece #koala one piece #flame emperor sabo #revolutionaries #art #fanart #fanfic #fanfiction #ficart #one piece art #one piece fanart #one piece fanfiction

[justtrashperson]

🌻 (if you're still doing that ask thing)

I honestly really want to learn how to sew, knit or just do embroidery especially since my mom have the equipments for it and the skills

idk I just want to learn because there's a lot of old clothes I would love to change or like, add my own flair or something or even make my own clothes with my own style

another reason is because a lot of clothes from thrift stores that are good is expensive for my budget lmao

#like the usual rate is around 150k-200k which is like. almost the same as the cheapest clothes you can get on a regular clothes shop #it's hard finding a good thrift store online or offline. maybe I just haven't found it yet #and also because the recent coat I bought had this horrendous looking tiger pattern buttons that does not match #the coat aesthetic/look. It looks terrible #like the coat is this light brown coat and the buttons are just. black and yellow eugh #and because I constantly need to move my hand and fingers so #yeah you get the point #justtrashask #ask #ask game #anon #sorry for the big ramble lmao

[gallusrostromegalus]

My housemate reminded me of a flashbulb memory I have that I really wish I had a photograph of because it would be a magnificent image to inflict on the internet at large with Zero Context, but I'll try to describe it here, and then draw it after dinner.

Image Description:

As seen from about three feet off the ground: Interior, the den of an american suburban house built at the height of the atomic age and still decorated like it years later. There's dark wood paneling about halfway up the walls that offsets the almost neon pink-orange light of late sunset visible through the large window. Every object in the room is highlighted by the last of the sunlight. The only other light in the room is a TV set that was manufactured the same year Howdy Doody debuted on air, now broadcasting PBS Newshour in black and white.

Closest to the viewer, there is a small end table with a Nearly Full Martini glass, and a Half-empty glass Martini Pitcher, indicating that two of the five martinis it holds have been poured out.

Just behind it, an old man sits in a chair that was bright green and yellow when it was new but is now more Grellow. The man is in his mid-sixites, somewhat heavyset, with a full head of snow-white hair and thick glasses. He's wearing a dark brown tweed suit with leather elbow patches, and a white cotton button-up. He's watching the news with a calm and dispassionate demeanor. Tired, but still engrossed with the world's events. He's wearing dark brown penny loafers and garish argyle socks.

Behind him is a couch that is a matched set with the armchair, with the same Grellow chevron pattern, but there is a very large crochet afghan that has been spread out over the back to be decorative and maybe protect the couch from it's current occupant: a 120lb Wolf Hybrid.

She's seated lengthwise on the couch, like she had also been watching PBS Newshour, posed like a sphynx. She's close in wieght to the man, and definitely taller than him if she stands up, with a dark gray agouti coat and a bit of white countershading from the trace of domestic dog in her. She's turned her head to the viewer, bright yellow eyes focused on them, and the fur of her head and neck haloed with the sunset. She is pleased to see the veiwer, which means most of the teeth in her lower jaw are visible in her canine grin. The effect is very menacing if you don't know her.

Clutched rather neatly between her front paws is a second, identical martini glass, only not nearly quite so full as the old man's.

Title: "Oh, I didn't think you'd be back for another hour/GODDAMIT EDWIN"

#Family Lore #Illustration and context after dinner #mazel the wolfdog

[lovedazai]

02. ACROSS THE UNIVERSE . . . dazai tries to make up for lost time by taking you out to dinner.

ft. beast!dazai + f!reader, pm boss!dazai, civilian!reader, lovesick dazai, possessive behavior, implied stalking (he keeps tabs on you & has pics of you), spoilers for beast au light novel & manga, 2.3k w.c.

SERIES MASTERLIST

the walk from the elevator to dazai’s office is long. his footsteps are loud against the hallway floor, lined with armed guards who stand completely silent and still. they don’t dare to move a muscle as dazai passes them, his black coat fluttering behind him with every step he takes.

“gin-chan,” he calls as he nears his door, and the girl turns to him expectantly. he beckons her to follow him with a curved finger, and she trails behind him into his office. he stands before his floor to ceiling window, a glass wall that reveals all of the city. he looks out over yokohama’s skyline, buildings silhouetted against a clear blue sky, with his hands folded behind his back. “cancel any appointments i have scheduled for tomorrow. inform the executives i’ll be unavailable, too.”

she bows politely as he dismisses her with a lazy wave of his hand, watching her leave through the reflection of the glass, waiting to hear the soft click of his office’s mahogany doors closing behind her.

in the isolation of his office, a smile breaks out on his face. he collapses into his chair, cradling his cheeks in his palms, aching and rosy with joy. he couldn’t believe you agreed to go out with him; you always were too trusting, weren’t you?

he giggles, swarms of butterflies fluttering against his ribs and tickling his stomach. he wonders what you’ll wear; he recalls an image of you in a strappy little black dress during a night out with your friends a few months ago, and twirls himself towards his desk to search through his locked drawer, the one with the false bottom.

his phone rings from inside his coat pocket, and he doesn’t even look at who it is before he answers, his smile still on his face as he rummages through old notebooks and files. “yes?”

“you ‘won’t be available’?” chuuya scoffs. “what?”

dazai sighs dramatically, like the sound of his voice exhausted him. “i have a date to prepare for.”

“the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, voice curious despite his choice of words. “a date?”

“yes, chuuya. are you unfamiliar with the concept?” 

“shut up. you’re going out with a stranger? without anyone to protect you?”

“she isn’t a stranger,” his voice turns cold, a stark contrast from his teasing tone.

“who the hell would ever go out with you?”

“don’t worry,” he grins, holding the phone between his cheek and shoulder, rustling through the drawer with more control. “you’ll meet her soon enough.”

he hears a muffled freak before the phone line goes dead.

he finally finds what he’s been looking for. he pulls a large envelope out, carefully unraveling the twine that holds it closed. he opens it, filled with all of the images he’s collected of you: sunbathing at the beach with your friends, picking up takeout after a late night at work, the wind blowing your hair into your eyes just as you’re leaving the bookstore. he sifts through them all with care before he finally finds the one he was thinking of. he sighs dreamily, tracing the curve of your body with his finger. his eyes never leave it, even as he presses the call button on his desk.

“actually, gin-chan,” he hums, still smiling at the photo. “one more thing. order a bouquet. have it delivered tomorrow afternoon. fourーno, five dozen red roses.”

he wears a suit; not one used for work, this was far too special for that. this one is untainted, only brought out of his closet and into the light of day to be freshly dry-cleaned and pressed. it’s not black the way his other suits were, this one is a deep chocolate brown with a wrinkle-free white button-down shirt and a black tie tucked beneath a sage green vest.

he lingers in front of his mirror, draping his coat over his shoulders, then sliding his arms through the sleeves. he tilts his head, he pulls on his collar, he straightens his tie. he’s never been so critical about his appearance before. he brushes his hand through his hair, glaring at his reflection when his fingers catch on knotted, neglected strands. he suddenly recalls a moment that isn’t his; it was before a gala for the agency when you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his cheek, brushing his hair back and whispering affectionate words about how handsome he was against his lips. he decides to tuck his bangs behind his ear.

even before he sends his driver off, he checks himself one last time in the reflection of the tinted car windows. he stands before the finest restaurant in the port mafia’s territory; it was no problem to request it be closed down for the two of you, being under the mafia’s protection. 

when he sees another familiar black car arrive, he perks up. you step out, looking a bit dazed. you’re not wearing the black dress from the photo; no, he’s never seen this one before. it hugs your body perfectly, and the way the fabric contours your curves leaves him absolutely enchanted. he grins, imagining you picking it out to wear just for him. 

“i can’t believe you got a fancy car to pick me up from the train station,” you laugh breathlessly, more out of shock than amusement. “this is the craziest first date i’ve ever been on.”

something suffocating crawls up his throat as he imagines you going out with someone other than him. he exhales shakily, but conceals it with a smile as he holds the bouquet out for you.

your eyes widen at the sight of the roses, scarlet petals and emerald stems bundled in smooth matte paper and tied with a silk ribbon. your fingers brush against his as you take it from him, and he beams as you cradle it in the nook of your arm.

“thank you,” you smile up at him nervously, the bouquet nearly engulfing your form. “you look handsome. i’m not sure if i dressed fancy enough for this.”

“you look perfect,” he smiles, offering you his elbow. you are perfect.

your pretty fingers wrap around his arm, and your touch seers his skin through his clothing as he guides you inside. the ceiling is lined with glistening chandeliers, soft spots of light illuminating the velvet black that coats the restaurant. soft linen hangs off all the tables’ corners, plated with shiny porcelain dinnerware and delicate crystal glasses. he leads you to the one enveloped in flickering candlelight, tucked away intimately in the corner of the large dining room.

“oh my god,” you gasp, the sparkling light reflected in your wide eyes. “what exactly do you do for a living?”

he holds a finger up to his grinning lips, reaching for a menu. it’s only a single, thick page and you take it from him gingerly. he pulls a bottle of champagne from its home in the metal bucket at the corner of the table, ice cubes shifting to fill the gap it left behind. he pours your glass before his own, catching your gaze as you eye him shyly over the top of the edge of the menu.

“i’m not sure what to get…” you say softly. “i’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“don’t worry,” he rests his chin on his folded hands. “i’ll pick something i know you’ll love.”

the food comes and goes. he couldn’t tell you what it tasted like, all he could focus on is the pretty girl in front of him. he’s the most dangerous man in yokohama, the puppeteer of its underworld; he has anything he could desire at his fingertips yet all he could possibly want is you, looking at him like this forever.

your eyes never leave him, and he could swear there’d be stars glistening in your pupils like their own secret universe if he looked close enough. you hang on to his every word, and you don’t even mind when he reaches across the table and slides his fingers in between your own. he thinks your palms fit together like two puzzle pieces; not molded around each other over time, but made with the purpose of being bonded to one another.

“you know, your hair looks really good like that,” you say softly, your eyes trailing over his face. he hopes the reason your pupils are dilated isn’t just from the dark lighting. it’s the same enamored look he catches glimpses of in his memory, when you’re hidden beneath the dim lighting of bar lupin, both of you too young to be drinking but doing it anyway.

“oh! i almost forgot to tell you!” he taps the edge of the table in lieu of clapping, not wanting to let go of your hand. he knows you won’t remember, but he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing that fond yet exasperated look on your face with his own two eyes. “i’ve been trying to make the firmest tofu. i finally succeeded!”

“really? maybe i can try it next time.”

next time. you want a next time with him. he wonders if you know he’d give you the rest of his life if you asked for it.

you were more than happy to talk to him, and it almost made it feel like you weren’t just two strangers eating dinner together. it didn’t matter to him that he already knew everything you were telling him. he loved listening to the sound of your voice.

your cheeks dimple as you smile, playing with his fingers as you tell him about how you finished your degree last month. he can’t help but swell with pride; he already knew, of course. the file he had personally made on you had only grown over the years with all of the little details he’d secretly collected about you.

it’s when you’re talking about a book you recently read that he begins to lose focus. he watches the way your lips shape around every syllable, but he can’t help but think about odasaku, how you two would’ve gotten along so nicely. it didn’t seem like you’d get the opportunity to meet him in any universe. 

“are you okay?” you ask softly, your nails tracing the soft indent of his heart line across his palm.

“of course i’m okay,” he smiles so quickly, it’s as if nothing was ever wrong. quieter, he says, “how could i not be when i’m with you?”

“talk to me?” your voice is so sweet, and he inhales deep enough that he feels his stomach expand against the waistband of his pants. “i’m a good listener.”

“i have a friend,” he starts, his gaze falling down to the table. “he wasーis a writer, a really good one.”

“has he published anything?” you ask around a sip of your glass. “i’d love to read something of his.”

“me too,” he sighs, and you tilt your head curiously. “i’m afraid we…don’t speak anymore.”

your sympathetic gaze makes his chest tighten, something invisible constricting around his lungs until it’s hard for him to breathe. the last thing he wanted was for you to pity him, not now.

“it seems like he had an impact on you,” you squeeze his hand between yours once more. “i’m sure he still thinks about you and misses you as well.”

he had to resist every desperate instinct in his body that told him to throw the table aside and kiss you right there.

you’ve made it to dessert, and dazai swears he’s never been happier in his miserable life than right now; this was all going so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. you brighten when the waiter places a small plate in front of you, carrying a piece of cake cut into a perfect rectangle and drizzled with sugary sweetness. he watches the way your pretty lips curl into a smile against the prongs of your fork as you taste it. some frosting smears against the corner of your mouth. he reaches across the table and swipes it away with his thumb, grazing your lips.

you freeze, eyes wide and blinking as you stare at him. the warmth of your cheeks spreads against his palm, and he greedily lets his hand linger as long as he appropriately can before he pulls back.

he thought it’d be painful to say goodbye at the end of the night, unsure how many more moments like this the universe would allow him to indulge in before it ripped you away from his grasp, but he can’t stop himself from smiling as you wrap your arms around him when you walk out of the restaurant, cheeks rosy from the champagne and the winter breeze.

you tug his hand gently, trailing your own up his arm until you can tug on the lapels of his coat and pull him to a stop. when you push your lips to his beneath the glittering lights of yokohama, he nearly bursts into tears. all his hair raises against the cotton of his bandages as you slide your arms across his shoulders, and he presses against your lower back until you’re flush against him. he can’t believe this is really happening to him; he waits, ready to wake up alone from some cruel dream, but he doesn’t. there’s no chill from the empty sheets next to him or the plush of his pillow against his head. it’s only you, with the sweet smell of your perfume and your soft tongue trailing along his bottom lip.

you pull on his tie, wrapping the fabric around your palm until your thumb is close enough to smooth against the knot, the tip of your nose brushing against his.

“would it be too forward of me…” you kiss him again, pulling away just enough to mumble the rest of your sentence. “...to ask such a pretty boy back to my apartment?”

he grins, cupping your cheeks and pulling you back to his mouth.

BSD MASTERLIST

taglist . . . @dazaichuuya69 @dazaisfavgf @annoyingpainterprincess @avocate-assia-dazai @kissesmellow21 @ceranchi @walking-simp @starmaiya11 @liliavalentine @seimpathyopera @little-miss-chaoss @17cherries @getoso @s1eepybunny @auraxins @anqelically @kentopedia @causenessus @aureatchi @fyotherat @sigmoon @dazaisgrl @vicsxwy @yyyxti @dazedflvr @ryunosnke @humsamu @ko-fi-heart @angelzai @ttaehyxx @n31ly0ung @msunknown911 @cyndaquels

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖ #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n #bsd x you #bsd fluff #dazai fluff #bsd x y/n

[pedrisbanana]

pedri and joao threesome pls 🙏🏻💕 absolutely love everything u write

Their cum as lipgloss >...

Enjoy 🍌

Twice The Fun

You were squealing like a little school girl, when you opened your package. After removing the wrapping paper, the royal blue fabric greeted you. The polyester was soft between your fingers, when you took the shirt from the box. 

You smiled.

Another piece for your collection. Immediately after seeing the transfer announcement on his instagram, you went to the FC Chelsea website and placed your order. 

Scrunching your nose at the chemical smell, you cut the labels and put it in the washing machine. 20 Minutes and it will smell fresh as ever.

His jerseys held a special place in your closet, right behind your dresses and blouses. All of them neatly hung up on black coat hangers, sorted by club and season. You started collecting them long before meeting Pedri, who wasn't exactly fond of your little obsession with Chelsea's new striker starlet.

So when you sat on the couch two days later, watching Chelsea's Champions League match and Pedri came home from practice, he gave you a cold stare instead of the usual kiss. All because of that damn name on the back of the jersey.

"So you're a Chelsea fan now ?" Your boyfriend asked mockingly, sitting down next to you. 

You smirked. "Only until the end of the season, then I can watch him beat your ass in LaLiga again" 

"I should bend you over and give your ass a little beating for talking to me like that" Pedri replied, obviously pissed off.

"I really don't get why you're so jealous. I'm just a fan" you poked his chest playfully. 

"I'm not jealous! João Felix is a fucking arrogant asshole, who thinks he's the next Ronaldo just bc he scored a few goals. You shouldn't sit here, wearing his jersey." Pedri crossed his arms.

You decided to push his buttons a little more. "and yet he's there playing Champions League and you sit here, exhausted from extra training, because you disqualified from Europa League"

The midfielder rolled his eyes. "If he's so great then why aren't you there with him ? I bet you'd let him fuck you after the match, the way you're jumping up and down just because he hit the crossbar. Any 4th grader would've scored that." 

"If you had asked me in 2019 I'd tell you yes. I thought his braces were really hot" you admitted, focus back on the TV. 

Pedri laughed. "His braces ?" You joined in, glad he lightened his mood.

"What can I say I am obsessed" 

He looked at you, raising a brow. "So you're telling me you didn't think about it recently"

"If I say I did, will you get a pissed again ?" you nudged his shoulder.

You leaned close to his ear, not waiting for a reply. "Because I did, but don't worry, only when Barcelona played against Atletico. Twice the fun, right ?" 

-

Teasing Pedri with João wasn't your best choice. You boyfriend had been acting annoyed all week and ignored your affectionate tries to lighten him up. You decided to surprise and apologize to him. 

Pedri had a new campaign photoshoot with Adidas today, meaning he would probably come home late. 

You dimmed the light in your shared bedroom and lit a few tea lights to set the mood. Pedri loved it when you wore lingerie and you had just found the right set on your shopping trip today. It came with a matching robe which wouldn't make you feel too naked. The color was a soft red, powdery and not to bright, complimenting your skin tone.

The thought of Pedri's lips teasing your skin as he slowly took the lace of your body made you shiver in delight. He wouldn't be able to resist you.

Putting on some light makeup, you heard the lock turning. You quickly applied some last layers of mascara and went to the hallway. 

You jumped into your boyfriends arms, pulling him into a heated kiss. His hands caught your waist under the robe caressing your hips. Your fingers caressed his cheek as you broke the kiss, staring into his deep brown eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. I'm more obsessed with you than with João." you said, hoping he'd accept it. 

"Didn't sound like that when Pedri told me about it." a voice with familiar accent stated. You know that voice.

You let go of your boyfriend to see if your guess was right, but it couldn't be. You must be hallucinating. 

João Félix was standing in your hallway. He wore a beige oversized t-shirt with the logo of some designer brand and light ripped jeans. You looked back and forth between the Portuguese and Pedri. 

So many questions ran through your mind. 

"I wanted to apologize for being an asshole and Félix and I did the photoshoot together so I invited him to meet you since you love him so much." Pedri explained, pushing you a little towards João. 

"I- ummm. Hey." the blush that decorated your face and neck must make you look like a beet.

"Hey." João smiled at you and checked out your outfit. Realizing you were still only wearing the rather revealing set of underwear, you wrapped the robe around yourself. 

"I'll umm go change." The presence of João made you forget how to think properly.

"No need to. Red is my favourite color, but I'm sure you know that." João said teasingly, a smirk curling on his lips. His hand caught your arm, holding you from leaving.

You stopped in your tracks and you were sure you forgot how to breathe for a second. Did he just flirt with you ? 

His grip on your arm was firm but soft. It made your whole body shiver. You turned your head to see Pedri's reaction. He must be fuming. 

To your surprise you're easily provoked sweetheart was watching the scenery without a hint of anger or annoyance. 

"You do look irresistible. What a nice surprise-" Pedri looked at João and winked. "- for both of us." 

You shot a confused look towards Pedri, about to ask what he was up to when he walked towards you. Trapped between the two footballers, you swallowed. 

"Isn't this what you dreamed about, princesa ? Twice the fun. Remember ?" His voice went straight to your core, soaking your panties. 

Of course you remembered. The thought of both Pedri and João touching you helped you fall asleep many nights, but that was it. Just a fantasy. 

João moved his hand to undo your robe. He slightly towered over you due to his height, lips almost touching your temple. You leaned into him, inviting him to go further. 

Pedri slipped his hand inside your panties. The pads of his fingers finding you wet and needy. 

If you thought about what was happening right now, you'd probably laugh, but you couldn't rationally think right now. João's and Pedri's hands on your body was all you could think about. 

João discarded your robe and opened your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

"You're so pretty." he whispered. His voice was drowned in arousal. 

You wanted to speak up, but he cupped your breasts and massaged them, which had you moaning instead. Your boyfriend started to kiss your neck. 

Somewhere between João teasing your now hardened nipples and Pedri having two fingers pumping in and out of you, the three of you ended up in the bedroom. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed and watched as João took his shirt off. His skin was tan and his muscles defined. He sat next to you on the duvet and Pedri encouraged you to be more confident. 

João caressed your hair as you opened the fly of his jeans. His long fingers combed through the strands and he leaned back a little. His dark brown eyes watched you intensely. Your hand reached inside his boxers. 

He was hard and warm in your hand. The other found leverage on his knee. João let out a breathy moan when you started to move your hand up and down, spreading the precum leaking at the tip. His hand wrapped around yours to tighten your grip around him, teaching you how he'd like it. 

You moved your sitting position to kneel beside him on the bed. The wetness between your thighs felt sticky and you rotated your hips slightly to create some friction. 

"Put me inside your mouth, amor." The striker whispered, hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 

Strong hands pulled at your hips as you leaned down. Pedri's hand sneaked inside your panties again, finding your pulsing clit. 

You let spit run over João's tip, covering his shaft, before taking him. Teasing the head by tracing the small furrow on the underside with your tongue made him call out your name. You clenched your thighs. 

Your boyfriend pulled your legs apart with one hand, keeping them apart with one knee. Pedri kneeled behind you. His hips flush with your ass. He must've taken his pants off, because you felt his hot skin on yours.

João's other hand started to play with your hair again as he watched you take more of his cock. 

"That's perfect, take all of me." he praised you, slightly pushing your head down by the neck. He added just enough pressure to make you press yourself against Pedri's erection. The midfilder let go of your hip to play with one of your nipples. Pulling and twisting it, making it harder not to grind against him. 

Removing your hand from João's shaft, you grasped his shoulder. The hand on his knee moved to play with his balls. They were full and heavy and João thrust his hips up, making you gag. 

Tears formed in your eyes from the burning sensation in your throat. João found a fast pace with his hips, hitting the back off your throat repeatedly. You were on the edge with Pedri rubbing your sensitive spot. 

You came with tears and spit running from your face, still swallowing João's cock. 

Pedri pulled you up and João wiped your tears with his thumbs. Pedri held you to him and kissed your flushed cheek. 

"That was so hot, princesa. Can't wait to be inside of you." he said, lips warm against your face. 

João's warmth disappeared as he got up to take his pants off, but you stopped him. Reaching forward you pulled his jeans and briefs now all the way down. 

His thighs looked strong as he walked towards you. He turned to Pedri, asking him something in Portuguese which you didn't understand. Pedri laughed and nodded, replying. 

João went over to one of your drawers but before you could see what he did, Pedri pulled you into a kiss. His tongue massaged yours and his hand intertwined with yours. You reached under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his six pack. 

The midfielder broke the kiss to take his shirt off, only his boxers covering him now. You wanted to please him. He shouldn't have to watch you have fun with João, even though Pedri had encouraged all of this. 

"Lay down." he whispered and grabbed some pillows from the headboard. 

As you were getting comfortable, Pedri positioned one pillow beneath your head and one beneath your ass. His hands explored your body doing so, touches lingering longer than needed. It got you excited all over again. 

The bed dipped beside you as Joao came back. His hands travelled from your knees to the dip of your waist, spreading them in the motion. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them off you. His hand immediately cupped your exposed pussy and you bucked into him. 

He watched you squirm, lips slightly parted and moved to lay beside you. His lips left butterfly kisses on your shoulder, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Two of his long fingers entered you, making you arch into the pillows. 

After discarding his briefs, Pedri appeared on your other side. He whispered declarations of love into your neck. You felt something cold on your wet folds and hissed. João pulled his fingers out, spreading the cold liquid over your sensitive pussy, before moving them back inside. 

At least you thought so, but his digits only teased your entrance before guiding them lower. His middle finger teased the little ring of muscles, making you shriek in shock. He stopped.

Pedri caressed your cheek and pressed his forehead against yours. 

"I'll be careful. You'll like it if you relax." João mumbled against your shoulder. 

Your boyfriend moved his hands down your lower stomach to find you're prepared and dripping. He easily slid his fingers inside. 

"I'm here, mi vida. I've got you." Pedri said, curling his fingers. You cuddled into him. "We've got you." 

Pedri made you feel safe. 

João moved slightly atop of you. His free hand exploring your chest and his lips followed. When he teased your nipple with his tongue, he continued to massage your back entrance. 

This time you relaxed, enjoying the new sensations. The tip of his finger slipped inside as Pedri found your sweet spot inside of you. 

You felt your orgasm building up and Joao pressed further inside. He slowly started to move in and out, reaching hidden spots. 

The name on your lips was now his. He chuckled against your breast. "I told you you'll like it." 

Pedri circled your clit, wanting you to reach your peak. He had you clenching uncontrollably around him in seconds. João took the opportunity to slip a second finger inside of you. You barely even noticed it, being focused on the electricity making your body spasm. He bit down on your nipple. 

Now focusing on your other breast, he increased the pace of his fingers and Pedri, too, continued the play of his fingers. 

"Hermosa, you're a sight." Pedri moaned against your lips. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. He looked so sexy when he was aroused, you almost started drooling.

João looked up at you from your chest, releasing your abused bud with a pop. "I think you're ready to take my cock now, amor." 

He cocked his eyebrow and smirked. Removing his fingers, he crawled next to you. Pedri guided you to lay on your side, facing him. Your boyfriend handed João the lube again. 

Your heart thumbed in your chest. You had never experienced this much pleasure. Pedri hooked your leg over his waist, pulling you closer. 

Finally you could feel his cock against you. You were impossibly wet, his tip immediately slipping inside, being pressed flush. 

Pedri fucked you in a static pace, enough to make you moan, but not enough to make you come. His face pressed into your chest, hands spreading your cheeks for João.

You clawed at Pedri's back, surely leaving bruises. Arching your back into him, he increased the speed of his hips. You barely even noticed João entering your backside. He felt big, too big to make this pleasurable, but these two had proved you wrong before. 

Guiding his cock further, he moaned your name into your neck. His hands held your hips in a vice grip. He filled you out completely, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. 

Your hand found his and he slightly intertwined your fingers, resting them on your hip. 

"You're doing so well, amor. Taking two cocks at the same time." João kissed your shoulder. 

You couldn't quite register what he said, your thoughts and feelings overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. Your face felt sticky as you pressed it into the pillow. You didn't know if it was from the tears or the sweat. 

Pedri groaned into your chest as João started to move. They must feel each other pleasuring you. After a few thrusts the two synchronized each other. The sounds coming from your mouth were pure and raw desire. 

"This feels so good, makes me think we should invite him more often. What do you think, cariño ?" Pedri toyed with your nipple between his teeth, making you nod and scream out in pleasure. He never had a better idea.

João grinned against your neck and moved your joined hands to your middle. He let go of your fingers, but you trapped his hand in a vice grip. His fingers found your clit, drawing figure eights. 

The third orgasm of the night crashed over you in waves. It felt even better than the first two. 

Expecting the boys to come inside of you, you tried to move your hips, riding out your orgasm. 

They had other plans, as João carefully pulled out and detached himself from his hugging position against you. Pedri followed and slid up to the headboard. 

His crotch was now at level with your face, cock glistening with your juices. You felt João's hands guide you on all fours above Pedri, repositioning the pillow under your pelvis. 

João slipped inside your pussy with ease, filling you to the brim. You clenched around him greedily accepting his hard thrusts. His balls slapped against your throbbing clit. 

Pedri jerked his cock, guiding your head onto him by holding your hair in his hand at the back of your skull. Taking him fully, he moved the hand from his manhood to rest comfortably on the pillows behind his neck. 

Before you got to enjoy to blow your boyfriend, João released himself inside you. He pulled out, spilling some of his cum on your pussy and ass. 

This didn't bother you enough to stop sucking Pedri off. His cock was familiar between your lips and you knew exactly how to move to get him to lose control. 

João didn't let go of your hips. His fingers spread his cum over your core and found your clit again. The striker soon had you coming for a fourth time. 

The vibrating moans at the back of your throat, brought Pedri over the edge. He thrust his hips into your mouth until he was spent. His cum tasted salty, but nice. You liked swallowing him. 

Climbing off him, you laid on your back exhausted. Pedri turned to pull you into him. João left into the small attached bathroom. 

After getting a washcloth he kneeled between your thighs, softly cleaning you up. 

"If Pedri doesn't mind, I'd like to hear more about your little obsession with me, amor."

A/N: Finally I built up the confidence to post this!

Special love and thanks go to @pedrisgatorade & @simpingmyassoff who were so kind to read this over! You're the best!

I really hope you enjoy this and leave me a comment 💕🫣

Love you❤️

#pedri gonzalez #joao felix #pedri fanfic #joao felix fanfic #pedri smut #joao felix smut #pedri one shot #joao felix one shot #pedri x reader #joao felix x reader #joao felix x reader x pedri #pedro gonzález lópez

[the-floral-perspective]

Look headcannons | Creepypasta + mood boards!

This includes style and how I imagine their normal fits in this modern day. Also like race n whatnot.

Also, their everyday outfit is what they wear to kill their assignments! Their general aesthetics is like stuff they wear around the house or when they buy groceries or smthing. I’m sorry if I generally describe them the same way, but I promise how I vision them is different. Once I learn to draw it’s literally over for y’all.

Their everyday outfits are typically similar and nothing like their general aesthetic because of convenience reasons.

I don’t ever follow cannon so please don’t hate! Also don’t take the bodies too seriously! Y’all are beautiful just the way you are.

Jeff the killer

Face: triangle shaped face, slightly upturned nose with a slight curve from breaking his nose, hooded bright blue eyes, sharp jawline, thin lips. Unhealed but healing mouth scars, slightly discolored blotchy skin and unusually wide eyes. Wears guyliner. His mouth scars are like wide open btw. Super thin eyebrows tbh.

Physic: he’s got some boob, 5’11. Wide shoulders, a lil toned, but he’s got some squish. He’s got some MADDDD cake. His legs are hella muscular too.

General Aesthetic: lazy edge lord. Sweatpants, band tshirts, converse, slides. BLACK CROCS. Kinda pink sometimes tho, but that’s only cuz of Ben’s influence. He’s got a crazy collection of pajama pants tho (he has my kuromi pants from a secret Santa gift)

Everyday outfit: black ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie with a black turtleneck underneath. Wears some nice earrings tho and has an eyebrow piercing. Has a similar strap to EJ, but just on his thigh, it carries his knife and money. So yes he has a thigh strap.

Jane the Killer

Face: oval shaped face, bow shaped lips, high cheekbones, dark brown upturned eyes, upturned nose. Skin is a little patchy from the past burns, otherwise she is almost fully healed due to Slenders help. Has slight gashes on her cheeks but they’re mostly closed. Thicc arched eyebrows.

Physic: pear shaped, more booty than her chest. 5’8, seems a lot taller. A bit bony, long armed and long legged. A little toned, tho her arms especially, she’s got some DEFINEEED arms.

General Aesthetic: elegant lady going to the art museum. Wears a lot of longer pleated skirts (either knee length or longer), long silk dresses, heels, occasional converse. Shirts are form fitting and typically elegant or professional. Loves silk, satin fabrics and the occasional velvet.

Everyday outfit: a black sleeveless turtleneck with black flared pants and black fingerless gloves. When it gets really cold she wears a dark red coat with grey fur on the lining. Has a thigh strap and a chest strap to carry her weapons.

Ben Drowned

Face: heart shaped face, male button nose, small lips, completely black eyes with blood running down them. Pale skin and hella sharp cheekbones. Sharp ass jaw too.

Physic: 5’9. Broad shoulders, a little scrawny. Defined chest and shoulders, his stomach hella toned, he doesn’t got much cake but a barely adequate one. No boobs for this guy either. No honka honka for him :(

General Aesthetic: a lil punk and a lil basic. Like he wears a lot of plaid and also a lot of baggy band tshirts, so not really but sort of. He’s got the emo hair, he wears green plaid skinny jeans with a graphic tshirt and black combat boots a lot. Or converse. He’s got a lot of facial piercings too. So he’s just barely punk. He’s getting there tho.

Everyday outfit: a light green baggy tunic that kinda has a deep V 😏 and some black baggy pants that the tunic is tucked into. His shoes are black combat boots. Across his waist he wears a brown leather belt that has a small compartment on his hip where he can put his shit in.

Clockwork

Face: downturned lips, tan skin, a clock for an eye. Her other eye is monoloid shaped tho and brown. Hair is dark brown and messy straight. Button nose definitely.

Physic: pretty boxy and muscular. 5’11. She doesn’t have much boob or butt since she’s so muscular. There is a slight contrast between her chest and her stomach, but not that much. She’s defined and toned.

General Aesthetic: it switches everyday. Sometimes she’s pretty tomboy and other times she’s 2000 emo. She wears converse, short shorts, low waisted pants that have the bedazzled butt pockets, cropped tshirts and tank tops. So maybe 2000s party girl?

Everyday outfit: black zip up hoodie with fur lining the neck, lowrise dark blue bootcut jeans, dark red tank top. Brown ankle boots.

Ticci Toby

Face: male version of a button nose, diamond shaped face, bow shaped lips, multiple face piercings (snakebites, eyebrow piercing), slight stache on his chin and above his mouth (he shaves). Fluffy brown hair. The gash on his mouth is basically healed. Very very pale skin, pretty hazel eyes u could get lost in forever. Average brown eyebrows.

Physic: almost concerningly skinny, like he just barely makes the mark of being healthy. It’s cause he forgets to eat. 6’1. His shoulders are broad but he’s like a triangle if anything. Not much cake :(

General Aesthetic: boring white boy. Nowadays he only wears turtlenecks and tank tops with some boring ass pants. Tho they are tight on him 😏 he left behind his old hoodie habit. He picked up motorcycling gloves and vans.

Everyday outfit: a black, long sleeved, form fitted turtleneck with a black back harness for his axe’s. Black skinny jeans and converse for convenience. He still wears his goggles and face mask!

Judge Angels

Face: triangle shaped face, her chin has a prominent point. Almond shaped black eyes, heart shaped lips. Olive toned skin, pretty tan. Has a prominent crack on her left canine tooth. Upturned nose, crooked smile. Blond straight hair that greatly contrasts her skin. Blond short eyebrows.

Physic: short and petite, 5’2. Lean, doesn’t really have much muscle, or at least doesn’t look it. Pretty flat chested and a normal ass. She has calves of steal tho.

General Aesthetic: white and messy, likes baggier clothing and more trashy punk looks. Like she wears Tripp pants, oversized tshirts, big hoodies. She doesn’t really wear makeup except for some shittily done eyeliner. Her hair is still blond but now it has the occasional black streak.

Everyday outfit: one of those baggy tops that have the cuts down the sides yk what I’m talking about? Anyways it’s white with a bunch of charcoal on it that she stole from Bloody painter. For bottoms she wears black knee high combat boots and a pair of black, low waisted, wide leg shorts. Obviously under the shirt she has a sports bra. She also wears fishnet gloves.

Puppeteer

Face: Grecian nose, dark gray skin, almond shaped yellow eyes, a square shaped face, medium lips. I think his teeth are hella white tbh but he’s definitely got fangs of some sort. Thicc black brows.

Physic: pretty boxy, like he’s lean n all, but he is kinda straight up and down. Average cake, average waist, average muscle and tone. He’s still hawt tho, his hands 😩 6’3

General Aesthetic: helluva boss reject. Wears trench coats and boots and skinny jeans, business pants. The occasional hoodie. Doesn’t wear a beanie anymore. Or converse. Tho his wardrobe has lots of skulls. He kinda does a 360 with his wardrobe, going for more of an old school pirate vibe.

Everyday outfit: wears a long black trench coat that clips in the middle of his waist, black skinny pants, below the knee black boots, black button up (the last three buttons unbuttoned) are underneath his trench coat.

Nurse Ann

Face: diamond shaped face, button nose, mid/weaker jawline, thiccer lips, not a prominent cupids bow. Definitely pale/Greyish skin tone. Her hair is brown and is like boob length, also somewhat wavy.

Physic: curvy, kind of apple/pear shaped. She’s definitely well endowed with the bewbs and butt, has a more rounded stomach too, has thicc thighs and calves as well. 5’4.

General Aesthetic: fantasia 2000 princess type beat. I feel like she’s a huge fan of midnight blue and fantasy type of outfits. She loves dresses of any length with frill, lace and intricate designs. She loves puffy/billowed sleeves and mostly wears flats or boot heels. She’s also particular about silver star/moon designs.

Everyday outfit: I don’t think her outfit changed at all tbh, I think she still wears the black nurse costume and hat, tho I do think she’s added more weapons in her collection. I think she’s started focusing on needles and chemical injecting, tho she still uses her iconic chainsaw.

Bloody Painter

Face: oval shaped face, thin lips, bright blue almond shaped eyes, Grecian nose, a lil tan ngl, black messy hair (idk how to describe his haircut tho, it’s a lil long, straight and fluffy??)

Physic: kind of in the average or boney ratio. He has bony hands and forearms but aside from that he’s got medium sized shoulders and a slightly smaller waist. Ngl I feel like he does have some random curve at the bottom so some honka cake, but not much. 5’11

General Aesthetic: painter in despair. I think he likes Jean jackets, he’s like the male version of arthoe. He likes black/blue jeans, kinda looks like he came from the outsiders, wears baggy leather jackets too. Mostly sticks with tshirts with random bull on it. Also always has a brown satchel with him.

Everyday outfit: I feel like black cargo pants, black turtleneck and a black chest harness, probably combat boots too. On his chest he still has the smiley pin, but aside from that, for his assignments he goes pretty neutral and just for convenience. EJ totally helped him pick out his outfit too his first assignment.

Rouge

Face: square shaped face, upturned nose, chubby cheeks, vintage shaped lips?? Idk how to describe it. I feel like her hair is a messy black Bob now, but like pretty messy I mean it. Kinda tan. Definitely has freckles.

Physic: 5’7, pretty boxy. The best I can describe her is like Audrey Hepburn built. Idk why I feel like her and A.H are so similar. She’s boney and relatively small like that.

General Aesthetic: a little vintage sometimes, like she switches decades a lot. She wears fashion trends from the 1950s to modern day, both feminine and masculine styles. So she wears dresses, miniskirts, jeans, colored turtlenecks. Really her closet is very alive. She has stolen from her assignments hella tho ngl.

Everyday outfit: a black miniskirt with a tighter grey turtleneck, red tights, black calf length boots. When it’s cold she has a cropped jacket with a fuzzy hood and insides.

Masky

Face: oval shaped face, tan skin, dark brown hair (short and messy,) dark brown eyes, uhhh mid-somewhat sharp jawline, straight nose.

Physic: strong, average short 5’9. Builds more bulk, has strong arms and shoulders but a smaller waist, he’s got some MADD V-line. He’s got a nice smackable amount of cake.

General Aesthetic: 😏😏😏. He wears flannels, darker colored skinny jeans, SOMETIMES THO he wears 70’s pants that are like right around the hips and like highwaisted and whatnot with a sleeveless cropped tshirt. He’s oddly vintage with stuff like that, but in a rock singer type of way. He only just started getting into this tho.

Everyday outfit: dark blue skinny jeans, black tshirt, tan jacket that has a LOTTA compartments.

Laughing Jill

Face: button nose, oval shaped face, high cheekbones, an average (a lil weak) jawline, pale skin, black irises. Thinner lips. Thin slightly arched eyebrows.

Physic: southern mommy. SORRY. 6’2 tho Bc shes mythical. I think she’s a wide hourglass too?? Like she is big chested and she def has a gyatt, she’s got tummy. She isn’t really defined at all.

General Aesthetic: Harley Quinn wannabe. Just likes the mix matches jumpsuit idea. Like she loves mixing and matching contrasting colors and especially black and white. She mixes in some lavender too. Is always wearing the most dangly earrings too.

Everyday outfit: an above the knee length skirt with a black petty coat underneath, a long sleeveless vest that goes to her mid calf and buttons together under her boobs. Her shirt is a plain white button up with puffy sleeves. For shoes she wears black heeled boots. Her hair is in a curly bun with a tiny off center hat.

Hoodie

Face: Roman nose, not that pale, diamond shaped face, pretty light brown eyes. Pretty strong jawline. Short black hair (dyed recently)

Physic: muscular, 6’2. Hes beefy. Like he’s got boob muscle, ass muscle. HE IS SCARRRY. Think like a smaller Miguel O’Hara almost. He’s less beefy than that, but like yk still beefy.

General Aesthetic: tbh think he went for a goth/alt vibe. He mixes feminine and masculine occasionally. Wears like long skirts sometimes, like a kilt almost?? Wears the fishnet tights as shirts, has multiple Spencer’s belts and necklaces.

Everyday outfit: black fishnet top with a black fitted tshirt over it, black baggy pants. Multiple finger rings. Multiple belts and waist bands.

Sally Williams

Face: circle shaped face, slightly downturned nose, wide green eyes. Small lips, lil bit of a chubby face. She does not eternally bleed from the head. Her hair is long and curly past her shoulders. She’s pretty dark.

Physic: a normal, average weighted 8 yr. 4’8.

General Aesthetic: she likes more vintage, boxy styled dresses from the twentieth century, like 1960s European box dresses inspired by Iggy and kids dresses from the 20s. She actually really likes the vintage youth outfits Bc of Shirley Temple. She LOVES Shirley Temple.

Everyday outfit: a pink and white designed dress that pleats at the bottom. Black Mary janes and white socks. She carries a small white clutch that slings across her torso. Her hair is in a long braid.

Laughing Jack

Face: pale as a mf, triangle shaped face, high cheek bones, cone nose, black hooded shaped eyes. Sharp ass jawline. Small forehead. Hair is shorter and more curly.

Physic: toned as an mf but SCRAWNY, like he’s dangly and flexible. It’s scary and arousing. He has no cake tho, no boobs either. He’s very lightly defined but that is IT. 6’9

General Aesthetic: likes the David Bowie Jareth Labyrinth aesthetic, kind of similar to EJ, but not really. He just also really likes poets shirts and vests. He loves dressing sort of Royal or regal. HE LOVES to wear baggy button ups but he NEVER buttons them up all the way 😏

Everyday outfit: I feel like his main outfit hasn’t changed much, the only thing I see him changing is the wraps around his waist possibly changing to a corset instead for his convenience.

(I’d like to remind that Lazari doesn’t have assignments as she is not a pasta, so her everyday wear is less convenient.)

Lazari

Face: tan, dark brown straight hair (occasionally pink), square shaped face, Roman nose, bow shaped mouth, thicc brown brows.

Physic: depends on her age she changes physically. But she’s probably like average in all ages, just less lean and a little chubbier. Height ranges from 4’11 to 5’8

General Aesthetic: colorful and a little childish. She wears overalls and paints on her pants a lot. Think of her like 2019 in a nutshell. She wears mom jeans and Angel tops and bucket hats. Hates crocs tho. All of her jeans have some 90s cartoon character painted on them.

Everyday outfit: a black Spider-Man tshirt with black overalls cuffed at the bottom. Red converse, fun silly socks, her hair in a long braid.

Jason the Toymaker

Face: diamond shaped face, pale, Roman nose, shoulder length bright red hair. Bright green eyes. Kinda got that Jareth haircut. Sharp ass jawline. Thin nicely shaped eyebrows. The makeup does not come off.

Physic: triangle. Slutty man waist. Not that toned tbh but he has enough. HES GOT SOME NICEE BONEY HANDS. His arms have decent strength and buff ness, but it’s rlly not that obvious. 6’8

General Aesthetic: old clowncore ig. Or like fantasy 1800s boyfriend aesthetic. He wears mostly beige or rained colors tbh and then a dash of black and red. Otherwise he makes up his outfits in abstract shapes and styles.

Everyday outfit: his usual tbh, bro has not changed much.

Zero

Face: square shaped face, wide eyes, no cupids bow shaped lips. Completely black eyes. Completely white hair that goes just past her jaw. Messy hair. Has stitches on the side of her mouth.

Physic: broad shoulders, smaller breasted, not much of a different with her waist. Does have low hips, like a long torso with shorter legs. 5’9

General Aesthetic: crust punk. Wears shit that is torn up and dirty. Lots of DIY and ripped up tights. Low rise black skinny jeans. And cropped shirts that go like just under the boob.

Everyday outfit: cropped black ripped jacket, plain black tshirt and lowrise shitty ripped skinny jeans and black combat boots. Under her ripped jeans is her striped ripped stockings.

Homicidal Liu

Face: slightly upturned nose, still has the stitches on his face, green eyes. Lighter brown neck length hair. Kinda has like a slight wolfcut tbh. A lil tan.

Physic:I feel like he’s a lil buff. Like 5’9-5’10. Not as buff as Jeff. Has some thiccness tho mostly in his shoulders tho so he’s more toned than Jeff.

General Aesthetic: spider noir energy. He loves trench coats and business pants. No matter what he’s always wearing black gloves. He’s always wearing business shoes too.

Everyday outfit: black turtleneck and black trench coat with black pants and black knee boots. He has patches on his coat with holes in it, but they’ve been patched up with his striped scarf, same with his pants. His main fit is patched together with his old scarf.

Nina the Killer

Face: triangle shaped face, olive skin tone, button nose. Curly black hair (often straightened) with purple and pink streaks, thicc upturned lips. Her scar is healed, but still very open like Jeff’s. Her eye situation depends on her state of mind.

Physic: 5’4, pretty skinny and toned. Mostly proportionate. Aight sized boobs and butt, generally just dainty idk. Built like the girl from house of 1000 corpses.

General Aesthetic: risqué Monique Chabot in post war France. She wears short skirts, only cropped tshirts and small dresses. She does not get cold at all omg. A lot of times she’ll wear heals or platforms. Never flats or converse tho anymore.

Everyday outfit: platformed knee high boots, black tights with black thigh highs overtop, a black and pink plaid miniskirt, a black crop top that’s a random band tee. A fluffy cropped black jacket that’s zipped up halfway, for style purposes. Fluffy earmuffs if it gets cold and her hair in an emo high ponytail.

Candypop

Face: oval shaped face, hella pale, Grecian nose, heart shaped lips tbh, almond shaped purple eyes. His hair is still the long pretty blue color as always, always up in a ponytail.

Physic: built exactly like LJ but more meaty, like he’s got more toning on his thighs and legs and stomach. Like he looks a lot healthier than LJ for sure. His outfit definitely makes his muscle pop a lot too 😏 6’6

General Aesthetic: he wants to be Ramona flowers, but he literally can’t Bc he can never find men clothes that is like hers.

Everyday outfit: tbh, his outfit has NOT changed like at all otherwise in color scheme. When his hair was a light green, his outfit became more warmer toned b4 he grew out of that phase and went back to his OG look.

Kate The Chaser

Face: square shaped face, round white eyes, black messy hair just barely past the shoulders, small lips, high cheekbones, Roman nose. No brows, they are drawn on.

Physic: a little thicc, broad shoulders and broad hips. I’d say a wide hourglass figure, but she’s like hella muscular. She has a proportionate amount of ass. 5’6

General Aesthetic: she wants to look like Siouxie, very 80s goth. Allison from the breakfast club energy. She loves wearing long skirts with big sweaters and doing the beehive hair. She loves scarves too and has a hella collection.

Everyday outfit: black wide legged jeans with a billowy maroon sweater and black combat boots. Sometimes she’ll add one of those long black detective jackets, but that’s off missions.

Eyeless Jack

Face: grey skin, Grecian nose, rectangle shaped face, high cheekbones, medium sized lips. Split tongue. Almond shaped black eyes. His hair is dark brown and somewhat long and wavy/curly. Medium thicc arched brows.

Physic: 6’7 and very strong. He’s not ripped like bulging, but he is definitely defined. He’s got ass and thighs, his waist isn’t as small as Dr Smileys, but there’s still a medium difference between his shoulders vs his waist.

General Aesthetic: he wants to be cottage core so bad, like the poets shirt and tunics. He does wear cream colored tunics and billowy pants. Tho sometimes on special occasions he dresses like a basic bitch. He’ll get out the tight business pants and black button up.

Everyday outfit: a black button up, black jeans and navy blue converse. He wears one of those chest strap things tho that carries his scalpel and other weapons. He wears a black leather jacket too <3

Dr Smiley

Face: pale, dark red eyes, tiny pupils. Shoulder length, fluffy black hair. Diamond shaped face, Roman nose, thin lips. Defined jaw. Johnnie Gilbert looking guy. Thin arched brows.

Physic: lean and tall. He’s got broad shoulders and an itty bitty waist fr. He’s bony af tho (except for the thighs,) he’s got NO cake. No junk in the trunk for him. 6’1

General Aesthetic: professional emo/dark academia. He’s ALWAYS wearing black turtleneck and dress pants. He always has a red satchel too.

Everyday outfit: he still wears his black medical mask and white doctors coat, underneath that though he wears a black short sleeved turtleneck, so his arms are out when he’s not wearing his coat 😏 his pants are just basic dress pants tho. Aside from the shirt, he wears basically the same thing he always has.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack #ben drowned #dr smiley #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #puppeteer #ticci toby #ben drowned smut #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta family #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta proxy #creepypasta au #creepypasta aesthetic #creepypasta slenderman #creepypasta characters #creepypasta community #creepypasta blog #creepypasta moodboard #creepypasta mansion #creepypasta lore #creepypasta writing #creepypasta redesign #creepypasta phase #creepypasta stories #creepypasta shitpost

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 8

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis

Word count: 3,2k

Masterlist

Part 7~Part 9 (coming soon)

He likely doesn’t even realise you’re awake. Not that you mind, after all, he’d just gotten out from the shower. His finely cut muscles, like the David statue, has water running down from the top of his broad shoulders all the way down to his v-line. That towel hangs incredibly low and every time he moves it threatens to fall.  

He stands in front of the closet, trying to decide what to wear. “Are you enjoying the show?” His voice is rough, you can see his eyes slide over to you, and a huge blush coats your cheeks. On instinct you pull the covers up to hide your face. He tsks and walks over to you, and lightly pulls down the sheets. “Didn’t I tell you not to hide your face from me?”  

You giggle, “You look quite handsome for an old man.” He groans and rolls his eyes. “¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” You hum as a reply, “I like it when you talk Spanish to me.” You use his own words against him. He shakes his and grabs some clothes from the closet. “Go get ready, dormilona.”  

You sigh and push the sheets to the side. “Why, anything particular planned for today?” You ask watching each reaction. “Oh yeah, you have big plans for today. Me? I have nothing but boring meetings and practising.” He shrugs, pulling the shirt over his head. “Poor thing, are you sure I can’t company you?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to take, still sitting like a princess on the bed.  

He does just that, gently caressing your knuckles. “No, mi niña bonita. You’re in Italy, I want you to enjoy it. Plus, I have a surprise for you.” He winks, shooing you out the bed only for you to return soon after wearing a matching set. Light white linen, short button up top and short skirt with a comfortable pair of flats. Of course, with your new Prada bag close by.  

“Wow, wow, wow, don’t you look beautiful?” He says, taking your hand and allowing you to spin, before he slowly places kisses all the way up your arm to your shoulder. Your hair is pulled up with the claw clip he got you, leaving clear space for his lips to find a home there. “Deberías ser adorado. Debería haber santuarios y estatuas en tu nombre. Me aseguraré de que seas un Sainz, para que los que me aman, te amen aún más.” 

You furrow your brows, “You speak words that I cannot understand but your eyes say so much more than your mouth ever will.” It’s true, he looks to be madly in love, obsessed even. His eyes fall on your frame as if he is seeing a god for the first time. His eyes go from chocolate brown to that of a pitch-black night. Stars in his eyes.  

“You will understand, soon enough,” he winks and then asks, “Do you have everything?” You smile and nod, opening your back only to see your phone and some lip-gloss. Your wallet is their too, but inside is only your ID, your driver's licence and a credit card you haven’t used in two weeks now.  

“Good.” Then he takes your hand in his and to you, you’re only thinking you’re going for a walk, for breakfast. Yet, when you exit the hotel, you can see just what Carlos meant when he said the Ferrari fans go big. They’re surrounding the hotel, there were fans yesterday too, but you can only assume the closer it gets to the weekend the more there will be.  

“Keep your head down.” He says, pulling out his sunglasses and in one smooth move puts them on. He seems like someone else entirely. His demeanour is different. His hand is wrapped around your waist, his grip firm and even tight. His jaw is locked tight, and his whole personality is so much suaver.  

It does something to you, the way he takes control. Guides you through the crowd, still waving and giving attention to the fans but at the same time he is untouchable. And now, you are too. Cameras are flashing and people are screaming his name...and yours too. It sends a thrill down your spine and instead of keeping your head low like he said, you keep your head high.  

Carlos guides you into the car, and still careful of the people, he drives off. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. A bright smile is smeared on your face. “What are you smiling about, chica guapa?” He asks, his hands smooth on the gear box. The way he sits back on the chair is something you could watch forever and ever.  

“That was so cool, you were so cool, I felt so cool. Appelez cela un rêve appelé vrai.” You sigh, stabilizing your beating heart by fixing your hair. “You enjoy that?” His dark brows knot and you nod with a bright smile. “Don’t you?” This is part of his job; doesn't he love his job?  

He shakes his head, “I really do appreciate the fans but sometimes eh…” You can't help but let your mouth hang open in shock. He raises his brow at you. “Carlos. Those people out there make your career. You're the only way that they might ever get a taste of the life. They live through you. I find it thrilling,” you explain, and it does seem to have made an impact on him.  

“Like, back home, idols are an escape from reality. Seeing these people on, living the life you can only dream of, makes you hopeful that maybe someday you could be them. It might never happen for some, but even then, it helps you get out of the bed in the morning.” Like always he’s hanging onto your every word.  

He pulls up to a really fancy looking car shop. Luxury vehicles you can only ever dream of displayed in all sorts of ways. The people who work here greet you both with utmost respect, they too look for anything they can do for you. You can't help but look around, taking in the beauty of some of these cars. Hand crafted leather seats expertly painted and worked on for years.  

“You like?” Carlos asks, his hand falling on the curve of your waist. You noticed it instantly, after last night his touches have become more frequent. Not that you mind, in fact each time he places a kiss on your shoulder, or grabs your hand, you can feel the lightning course through you. The power of a thousand horses making their way through your stomach.  

“My dad would go crazy.” You mutter, thinking of all the times your father would call out the exact name and model of a car as you passed. “But do you like it?” Carlos' brows furrow, you can see he worries and can tell he was excited to show you. “Of course, it just feels so crazy. I never thought in a million years I could ever even be this close to the cars I see on my feed all the time.” You mutter, your hand on his chest as you take it all in.  

He smirks, “Pick one.” His words are so simple and easy. You'd think he's asking you to say if you wanted chicken or beef. “Pick one?” The words fall from your mouth and feel like a thousand butterflies on your tongue. He nods, “Any one, I'll rent it for the day or even the whole week if you wanted.” He shrugs, also gazing at all the magnificent cars.  

He lets go, allowing to roam and decide which one. Then you spot it, in the very back of the show room. You don't know the name, the model or anything important. You just know, this is the one. “Ahh, yes, the Ferrari R8 Spider.” The front man begins speaking, listing off all the special features but you're not listening. All you see are hearts and stars.  

“This one?” You can call out his deep voice and accent out of a million voices. “Yes, I don't need to see any other one.” You beam up at him and you can see he too is excited about it. “Should've known you'd always find the Ferrari,” you nod, appreciating each and every grove of the car.  

While the people set up all the paperwork, Carlos pulls you to the side. He pulls out his wallet and then hands you his Black Amex card. “What's this?” You ask him, holding the card gently as if you're cradling a baby. “You've never seen one before?” He asks, his brows pulled together but still teasing. “I want you to go to Milan and shop your heart out. No limit.” He sends you a wink and you feel your knees grow weak.  

“You can't be serious.” The words are like lead on your tongue. What on earth is he doing? “Of course, why would I joke?” He's dead serious. Carlos is dead serious about this. “No limit?” You ask one more time just to make sure you didn't hear wrong. “There are two conditions.” You nod, not even caring if he says you have to go down on your knees.  

“Otis and Brutis stay with you at all times.” He then points his thumb to the two massive bodyguards waiting just outside the shop. A whine escapes your mouth, and you push out your bottom lip more than ever before. “No, they're such a drag.” You whine, grabbing onto his polo shirt. “They will follow you, wherever you go.” His voice is stern but still you fight.  

You know that it's for your safety, but you can't help but feel like a criminal. Someone who should be watched at all times, like you're being babysat. A thought plays in your mind, the perfect way to get him to change his mind. “Daddy, please don't make me take those oafs with.” You give him your best puppy eyes, the word now feeling much more comfortable on your tongue.  

His reaction is priceless. You can see the internal struggle in his mind. His hand reaches up, gently caressing your lips, you can see he so wants you. “Fuck…” a glimmer of hope, his resolve seems to have cracked. That sure was easy. “No, absolutely none-negotiable. They stay with you at all times.” Perhaps you are a child, because right now you feel like throwing a tantrum.  

“But you said-” he laughs, and interrupts you. “As much as that word coming from you, makes me want to fuck you right here on the display floor, it doesn't mean you automatically get what you want. Manners are good from a cosita dulce like you, but your safety always come first.” No wonder his eyes are stormy like that. You're certain that your panties are as wet as can be and that you're red like a tomato.  

He can tell you're left speechless and continued with his conditions. “Be back before dinner, and I want a fashion show when I get home.” With that, he pulls you close, placing a kiss on your forehead and then proceeds to pay the deposit for the car rental. Leaving you a soaked mess, absolutely hungry for his bones. You will get him back for that. 

Us Weekly: 

“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend and his girlfriend spotted outside the Hotel de la Villa.”  

Glamour: 

“Carlos Sainz’ girlfriend spotted driving a Ferrari in Milan.”  

Mirror:  

“Y/N Y/S/N spotted spending big in Milan.”  

30 000 Dollars. The excitement to see her in that 30 000 made me rock hard all day. Some of them she posted on her story, which I keep track of religiously. But I know for a fact that that couldn’t be all of it. I saw the news articles; it gave me a great sense of pride seeing them finally call her by her name and not just as my girl.  

I made sure to make is home as quick as possibly, though, I don’t find her in her room or even mine. That is until, I ask the guards.  

The sight is truly delicious. It makes me disgusted by the pure amount of clothes I’m wearing, or the fact that these two idiots even dare look or be around her. Her arms are hanging lazily onto the side of the hot tub, her eyes staring out at the view of Italy. But the bikini she’s wearing should be illegal.  

It’s bright red, with delicate knots holding the thing together. One small tug and it will fall right off. Her body is so soft, her curves fill the bikini perfectly. Her hair in one of the claw clips that I bought her, messy and lazily done. Some of her locks falling out of place, making her neck look so ready to be kissed. Her waist curves and I just want to rip the damn thing off. 

“Leave,” my voice is stern and deeper than I thought it would be. She turns by the sound of my voice, and lightly treads her way to me. A huge looking cocktail in one hand, more than half empty. “Bonjour mon Carlito,” she winks at me, and I groan at her words. Where did she hear that, or is it the alcohol speaking?  

I bend down next to the hot tub. “Hola, mi niña bonita.” Her cheeks go red, “How many of these have you had?” I ask, referring to the mixed cocktail. She shrugs, “This is the first, but the night is still young.” I tsk and shake my head. “You know the deal, niña pequeña,” she whines and pushes out her bottom lip.  

I tsk and shake my head. “In any case, you have to show me what you got.” My finger gently caresses her cheek. After the night that she joined me in the bed, everything changes. Clearly, she is ready for more. Ready for the next step, even just a small one. More touches, more kisses on her cheek or her neck. Perhaps even a week or two from now, a kiss on the lips.  

Again, she pouts. My fingers find that bottom lip of her, if I kiss her now, there will be no wait. “Daddy, please come join me.” How on earth could I ever say no to eyes like that. That beg and plead and want. Those eyes that I could never in a million years say no to. I gently place a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll go change.” A wide smile covers her lips and her eyes sparkle.  

I’m quick, not even 5 minutes. The bubbles are a nice temperature, no hotter than the weather but no colder than 26 degrees Celsius. My hands instantly find her waist, she’s gazing at the view again. You can see the towns and people and far away mountains and farmlands. I don’t care about any of that.  

All I can think about is the feeling of her waist under my hand. Her back against my chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. The sweet, sweet smell of her. Sickly sweet ripe berries, hot honey on the tongue and home. She’d be such a good mother, if she and I... then she’d never be able to leave me.  

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice is like angels in my ears. I tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, mostly just to feel her down-like skin. “You, I’m always thinking about you.” Her cheeks are pink but still a smirk is on her face. “You get this faraway look, somewhere special where I can’t possibly be.”  

I can only shake my head at her conclusion. “No, mi amor, you are my special place.” She giggles, the sound of fairies being born. “I’ve seen the interviews, years before we met you still have the same other dimension look.” She looks to chuff with herself. “That’s because I’ve been dreaming of someone like you since forever.”  

She laughs out loud, her head falling back and her drink almost tipping over. “You’re smooth, Mr Sainz.” Her words are music to my ears. The urge to kiss her is so strong. Instead, I make do with the sweet spot on her collarbone. “They do call me the smooth operator.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”  

“How can’t I be, with such a beautiful lady sharing a hot tub with me. In the tiniest bikini might I add.” She hums and then does a slight turn, the water gracefully spinning around her. “You like?” Do I like? “Fucking hell, chica bebé, I’m struggling to keep my hands off of you.” Then her eyes turn to that of a siren.  

“Why do you keep your hands to yourself?” Her tone is begging, a slight whimper in her voice. She might have had only one drink, but her tolerance must be low. Then her hands begin to roam my body. Her touch is like fire, lighting on my body and my loins ablaze. A groan leaves my mouth, the self-control is unbearable when her big doe eyes go sultry like that.  

Her hands make delicate contact with my stomach, pushing her chest against mine. She looks up at me through her lashes, a temptress that should be locked up. “Why won’t you touch me?” She takes my hand, so small in comparison and places it on her ass. “Why won’t you kiss me?” She lifts her chin, her lips mere millimetres from mine.  

“Fucking hell, chica bebé, you are my weakness. Do not think for a moment that I don’t want to bury my cock deep into that warm cunt of yours. If I had it my way, I’d have you right here, right now. You’d never even leave the bed and be covered in marks of my making.” My words cause a whimper to leave her mouth, needy and wanting more than ever.  

“Then why deny yourself?” Now it’s my turn, I use both my hands and shove her up against the wall. My knees press up against the little amount of fabric that hides that sweet pussy of hers. My head right down against her ear. Kissing and nipping. Leaving purple marks against her neck. Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that until much later.  

I just can’t control myself when her legs wrap around my waist, the water splashes over the edge. Her arms pull me closer. “Because I like seeing you beg. I like hearing your pitiful whines as you beg me to fuck you, like the whore we both know you are. I’ve already given you so much and yet you still want more.”  

Her tender finger pull on my hair, now her lips are by my ear. “Please, daddy, please just use me already.” A deep chuckle escapes me. “See? So needy. But you see, mi pequeño, I can’t give you everything you want all at once. It’ll leave you ungrateful. And I don’t tolerate brats. I’m going to leave you wanting and needy. I’ll make the tension so much you’ll want me just as much as I need you.”  

My taglist is open, just ask!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f 1 x reader #f1 xreader

[loveshotzz]

A sneak peek of part one to make up for not posting today. 🎄coming 12/20

series masterlist

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle that the holiday decorations are every year, it’s hard not to feel all those emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?”

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost.

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck.

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose.

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?

“Are you lost?”

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’ to himself.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him.

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again and it looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” You giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it, “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.”

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves.

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like, my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you —“

“Steve.” He interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” You try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around it, “you’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing, wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut, “sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous.

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?” Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours.

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away.

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck.

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines

[beansprean]

Waiting on Mr. Right

My Exchangeapalooza gift for @jay-auris !! See it HERE on A03 and check out all the other fabulous entries HERE!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID page 1: 1. Interior of a bar, romantically lit, and covered in heart balloons, heart and cupid decorations, heart shaped light strings, and various small round tables with two chairs each. The tables are occupied with male/female couples in mid conversation. A waitress dressed in black jeans, black button up, and a white apron around her waist walks through with a tray. In the foreground is the corner of the bar counter, which has a small sign advertising 'Valentine's Day Speed Dating' On February 13 between 7pm and 10pm. A little cupid cartoon is pictured on the sign saying 'Every time a bell rings, ladies move on to your next date!' At the bottom, it says 'Find your Valentine! (before it's too late)'. 2a. Close up of Nandor on a salmon background lighter at the top and darker at the bottom, dressed up in his finest red and gold fur trimmed coat, sitting at one of the small tables, hands folded in front of him. He stares expectantly forward and says, 'I am glad to hear your parents are dead; I never liked any of my previous 37 wives' parents. 2b. Reverse shot of a middle aged black woman in a red turtleneck sitting across from him, arms crossed with an uncomfortable expression as she stares back at him with no response. 2c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 3a. Close up of Nandor, leaning over the table with his fingers pressed together, presenting his date with a lascivious smile. He says, 'How many times a day do you expect cunnilingus?' 3b. Reverse shot of a white middle aged redhead across from him, dressed in a mauve v neck sweater and nervously avoiding eye contact while gulping a glass of white wine. 3c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 4a. Close up of Nandor, smiling sweetly with his hands folded in his lap as he says 'Without a word spoken between us, I find myself falling deeply in love. Do you feel this also?' 4b. Reverse shot of a middle aged southeastern Asian woman with a bob and large glasses. She still has her coat in her arms and hasn't even slipped her bag off her shoulder, and there is an untouched menu in front of her. With an expression of vague disgust, she replies'...No.' 4c. Reverse shot as the woman gets up to leave, Nandor planting his fists on the table and calling out 'Hey, the bell has not rung yet!' 5. Close up of Nandor as he crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, mumbling angrily to himself 'Clearly she has no idea how dating works.' A waiter reaches into frame to grab the abandoned menu and snorts in response. 6. Zoom out as Nandor jerks his head around to whine, affronted, at the waiter, 'Ayy, what, waiter-man? Where is the joke?' The waiter, who appears to be Guillermo wearing a black button down, black pants and a white apron around his waist, holds the menu up with both hands to shield his face, replying 'Sorry, sorry! Nothing!' /end page 1

ID page 2: 1. As Guillermo hides behind the menu, Nandor holds his hand up in a useless hypnosis gesture and barks 'I am Nandor the Relentless and I command you to tell me!' 2. Close up of Guillermo as he peeks cautiously over the top of the menu. Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'You are seeing so many people here have success...' 3. Close up of Nandor looking pleadingly upward as he says 'What am I doing wrong?' 4. Guillermo fully lowers the menu with a cautious smile, replying 'I mean...I guess you come on a little strong?' 5. Wide shot of them both. Nandor makes an affronted expression and curls one arm up to show off his bicep, gesturing to it with his other hand. He says, 'I am strong! I am very strong! Do modern women no longer admire strength?' Guillermo, holding the menu under one arm, holds up both hands in a soothing gesture and responds frantically 'Nonono, for sure! I just meant that you're acting really intense right off the bat!' 6. Close up on Nandor with a thoughtful hand on his chin as Guillermo continues offscreen: 'Talking love and marriage...it's too soon for a first date.' Nandor: 'Ahh... This is more third date talk?' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking exasperated but resigned as he reluctantly agrees: '...Sure.' 7. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor asks offscreen: 'So what is first date talk?' Guillermo replies, counting off on his fingers, 'Well, it depends on the person, but generally... Get-to-know-you questions? Like where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have, that kind of stuff.' 8. Close up on Nandor as he turns his face away to glare into the middle distance, a sudden shadow melting half his face into darkness as he says 'I grew up in the faraway kingdom of Al Qolnidar, which no longer exists, and I had seven siblings, all of whom are now dead.' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking shocked and cornered, unsure how to respond to all that. 9. Wide shot from Nandor's other side as he raises his eyebrows guilelessly and gestures to Guillermo with a hand, prompting, 'And then you answer?' Guillermo jolts in place, surprised to be placed in the date's role, and replies 'Oh, yeah, uh. Your date would answer, too. Um. I grew up here in the Bronx and I'm an only child.' 10. Repeat. Nandor and Guillermo both stare expectantly at the other. 11. Repeat. Nandor drops his gaze with a frown, eyes hooding, and grunts 'Hm. This is very boring, waiter-man.' Guillermo, flustered and irritated, throws his arms out in a helpless gesture and snaps 'Well, you have to actually engage in the conversation! Ask follow-up questions! And it's Guillermo!' Nandor says, uninterested, 'What is.' /end page 2

ID page 3: 1a. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly pink background as he points a finger sternly and states 'My name! It's Guillermo.' 1b. Reverse shot of Nandor looking up at him, almost dazed, cheeks flushed a bit purple as he echoes 'Guillermo...' 1c. Reverse shot of Guillermo as he withdraws his hand to curl it protectively against his chest. He looks a bit taken aback by the reaction, cheeks gone a ruddy pink. 2. Wide shot of them both on a red-violet background crisscrossed with multicolored lights. Guillermo looks away from Nandor nervously, blushing and sweaty, patting his free hand anxiously on the menu held under his arm. He stutters out, 'I, uh. Anyway, I gotta-' Nandor, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at Guillermo with a besotted expression, interrupts, saying 'You are very wise in the ways of dating, Guillermo.' He puts extra emphasis on the name. 3. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor continues: 'You have been on many dates?' Guillermo fidgets, still looking away, and mumbles back 'Not, not like a lot, no. Not like a large amount. Like a normal amount, probably.' 4. Wide shot as Nandor lifts his head and leans closer with a small smile, asking 'And how do your suitors woo you? If they are asking you on a second date?' Guillermo is startled into making eye contact and goes red, clutching the menu to his chest with both hands as he sweats nervously. 5. Repeat. Nandor leans even closer, smile widening into something more flirtatious as Guillermo stiffens and looks away again, somehow getting even redder as his shaky mouth pulls into an uncertain grin. Guillermo stutters out, 'I mean...assuming the first date went well...um...' 6. Close up on Guillermo, smiling nervously even as he avoids eye contact. He says, 'I guess he might...get me flowers?' 7. Close up on Nandor on a bubbly peach background from Guillermo's POV, looking up patiently as he listens. Guillermo continues offscreen: 'He'd...tell me how much he enjoys my company, or...pay me a genuine compliment.' 8. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly peach background from Nandor's POV, his smile softened and eyes far away as he continues: 'And...whisk me off somewhere fun. Somewhere new. Somewhere we could...stumble in to an adventure together. Away from everything else. And we'd stay up all night because we just...didn't want it to end.' /end page 3

ID page 4: 1. Close up on Guillermo's hand, crossed over his opposite arm, as Nandor nudges his fingers underneath to free his grip. Nandor starts softly, 'And...' 2. Wide shot on a bubbly pink background. Nandor has taken Guillermo's hand and is holding it like a knight would a lady, gazing down at it softly as if readying to kiss it. He continues, '...how many of your suitors have done this for you?' Guillermo, dazed, gazes down at their hands and replies '...I... I don't think anyone would...' 3. The plain green background wall slams back into view as a bell rings offscreen. Wide-eyed and red-faced, Guillermo snatches his hand away from Nandor and flings it upward as if tossing the moment over his shoulder. Nandor is left frozen, hand in the air, eyes wide in shock. 4. Repeat. Guillermo begins to back away from the table, tossed arm coming around to rub at the back of his neck. He looks up and away, sweating , red, and awkward as he chokes out a loud forced laugh and says 'Well, that definitely counts as coming on too strong. Terrible advice, don't do that.' Nandor leans after him, hand hovering in midair, squeaking out 'A-' 5. Repeat. Without letting Nandor finish, Guillermo disappears out of frame with a hasty 'Ok bye good luck!', leaving Nandor saying nothing but question marks, hand still frozen in the air as if reaching out after him. In the foreground, a woman with long brown hair and a dark pink sweater steps into view to take the seat in front of Nandor. 6. Slight zoom, the background returning to the light and dark salmon as Nandor settles back into his seat. The woman across from him, out of focus in shadow, says 'Hi, I'm Kjersten! Um...that's a really interesting outfit...' Nandor doesn't appear to be listening and is staring after Guillermo thoughtfully, a Mona Lisa curl to his lips. /end page 4

ID page 5: 1. Low angle of an alleyway, fenced at the rear and surrounded by tall buildings in multiple vague colors with some spray painted areas. Snow is piled up on either side of the center path against the sidewalk. In the foreground, there is a dumpster. A pink text box at the top reads February 14, 12:07 am. Halfway down the alley, a door opens and Guillermo steps halfway out, missing his apron but having added a coat, carrying a full garbage bag. A voice from inside calls, 'Guillermo, you can head out when you're done, okay?' Guillermo's breath steams into the air as he turns back to the door to respond: 'You sure? The dishes are-' The voice interrupts him with 'Sí, es El Día Dr Amor y Amistad! (In English: Yes, it's Valentines Day) Go sow your oats! You're too young to be working so much.' Guillermo replies without enthusiasm, 'Ha...yeah. Thanks, Teresa, have a good night.' 2. View from behind as Guillermo pulls the lid of the dumpster up with one hand and throws the bag in with the other. He sighs and mutters to himself, 'My oats are just gonna go home and watch Buffy...' 3. There is a clatter in the alley behind him and Guillermo spins around to face the viewer, startled and tense. 4. Extreme close up on Guillermo jerking back in shock as a wad of dandelions are suddenly thrust into his face. A voice offscreen calls 'Guillermo!' happily. 4. Zoom out as Nandor, now with a black and gold cloak dusted with snow over his finery, kneels down in front of Guillermo, arm outstretched to keep the dandelions pushing at his chin. Guillermo, pink and flustered and very confused, takes a step back and splutters 'Nandor?! The- the relentless?' Nandor ignores his reaction and announces, 'Here are some flowers!' 5a. Close up on Nandor as he looks up at Guillermo, dandelions thrust into the foreground and his hair and shoulders dotted with snow as if he had been waiting for some time. He proceeds, clearly rehearsed, 'I very much enjoyed your company tonight as well as the sight of your charming boyish face and plump behind!' His voice is demanding but his expression, eyes shining upwards and cheeks flushed purple, betrays his nerves despite the confident set to his brow. 5b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, staring down at him slack-jawed with wide shiny eyes and pink cheeks, the dandelions still hovering up by his face. Offscreen, Nandor asks 'Have you ever been to Staten Island?' Guillermo responds 'No...' on autopilot. Nandor concludes, 'Then that is where I will be whisking you for our date!' 6. Full body shot, the alleyway back in focus and showing an empty snow-lined street on the other side, a single window just above Guillermo's head lit up from within. Nandor finally stands up and rubs at his chin with a worried expression, dandelions clutched in the other. He says, 'I've heard tales of an all-night bowling alley, but my housemates never want to go with me.' Meanwhile Guillermo, frozen beside him with his hands hovering in mid-air, lets his brain catch up with what's happening. He stares into the middle distance as equations float around his head and his breath fogs into the air. Above, it begins to gently snow. 7. Close up of Guillermo, knocked out of his trace by a gentle prompting from Nandor offscreen: 'So...?' An EKG line skips a beat in the background as he startles and looks up, eyes shining and lips pressed together in a frown. 8. Reverse shot of Nandor, looking very nervous now as he stares back hopefully, holding out the bouquet of dirty dandelions one more time. /end page 5

ID page 6: 1. Close up of Guillermo on a bubbly pink background. He smiles genuinely, red-cheeked, and reaches out to take the dandelions from Nandor's hand. He says, 'Okay...' 2. Medium shot of the two in profile. Nandor, still holding the flowers as Guillermo tucks his hand inside his grip to take them, looks down at Guillermo in shock and echoes 'Okay?!' Guillermo looks up at him with a shy smile and clarifies, 'Yeah. Yes.' 3. Nandor drops his hand and straightens up, a giant silly ecstatic grin taking over his face. Guillermo turns back toward the building and points behind him with his free hand, the other now clutching the dandelions. He says, 'Just let me clock out an-' 4. A close up of Guillermo, blurred diagonally with sudden motion. The only thing clearly visible are his wife eyes, frozen grin, and a little white question mark. 5. Knees up of Nandor, now holding a startled Guillermo in a bridal carry, on a red background lined with glowing neon pink hearts. Grinning wildly down at his date, Nandor announces, 'Prepare to be whisked, Guillermo!!' Guillermo sits there wide-eyed, clutching his little wad of flowers to his chest and somehow finding his other arm looped around Nandor's neck. He stutters frantically, 'Wai- wait, Nandor, you don't have to-' 6. The background warps upward as Nandor shoots them both upward into the sky, flying them both right out of the panel. Guillermo's last word is stretched out in a startled 'OOOOOO??!' as they take off, a single dandelion escaping his grip and drifting back toward the ground. 7. Wide shot of the night sky, dark purple with bursts of white clouds and speedily increasing snowfall, lit by a clear full moon. Nandor and Guillermo fly through, Nandor smiling in a pleased way and clutching Guillermo tightly as he watches their ascent. Guillermo, both arms now around Nandor's neck and more flowers slipping from his grip into the night, stares up at him with awe. He thinks to himself, 'This is the best night of my life...' Behind them, the words 'the end' are carved into the moon. /End ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #valentines day #exchangeapalooza 2 #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described #waiting on mr right #there are worse things i could do #tawticd

[slvttyplum]

✮⋆˙what you guys roleplay as

nanami: santa and his elf

- he’s going to give you his present alright.

- who knows how this conversation even came about.

- wait… i do.

- he came home one day after the two of you had a conversation about bed time fun.

- he had a bag that contained two costumes

- you took them out, your eyes wide as an owl.

- a green corset like dress with spaghetti straps, with a green bow and white fur coating the outside of it

- a green thong, elf ears, fishnet stockings that clips to the main piece

- his was a furry santa sleeveless, the red pants, and a hat.

- you were giggling your ass off

- when you showed him how you looked he was drooling and whistling.

- “come sit on santa’s lap.” you sit on his lap grinning ear to ear.

- “what do you want for christmas?” he says holding onto your waist bouncing his leg.

- “hmm… i think i santa.” you say wrapping your arms around him. he smiles grabbing your legs carrying you bridal style to the room.

satoru: police and prisoner

- “no i want to be the officer.” you roll your eyes snatching the costume from him.

- “no IM going to be the officer.” you say pouting.

- he thought because of the dynamics he should’ve been the police officer

- which made you side eye him cause what the fuck?

- but you both came to an agreement.

- the costume was very short shorts, a long sleeve crop top, handcuffs, a hat, a badge, and boots

- his costume was just… an orange jumpsuit.

- you walk out swinging the cuffs swaying your hips, “i’ve heard you’ve been a bad bad boy.”

- his pupils are forming into little hearts by the second, he quickly nods.

- “i’ve been a very bad boy.”

- he’s sitting down on the couch, and he opens his legs some more as you walk in between that.

- “tis tis, i’m obligated to punish you.”

- he gulps nodding again, “please… please do.”

suguru: firefighter and a hot mom

(this is hilarious idk why)

- at this point the both of you had tons of costumes

- you weren’t sure what else to dress up as until suguru came home with a bag

- that contained two costumes

- one being a firefighter, with just the bottoms and orange suspenders with a hat.

- yours was a big see through robe with feathers on the end.

- you’re on the couch drinking wine playing into your roll and suguru walks out

- his hair in a bun his hand grabbing his bulge.

- “heard there was a fire round here.” he says putting on a voice

- you suppress your laugh uncrossing your legs, “maybe.”

- he walks closer to you still rubbing himself, “the only fire i see here is you, cause you’re hot.

- you spread your legs so he can walk in between them, “oh yeah? i got something that can put out any fire.”

- he smirks at you walking in between your legs winking, “so do i.”

choso: ups deliverer and man (lol)

- you both were going to do barbie and ken but couldn’t find the right accessories

- so you went with the oldest costume you could think of

- “wow classy.” he mutters pouting and rolling his eyes.

- you laugh handing him a box, “stop whining and put this on.”

- his eyes light up and you both go to change

- you walk out with your costume on, brown shorts, a black belt, a brown button up crop top, a tiny black bag on the side, a hat, and a box under your arm

- choso is wearing a regular black and white suit.

- “wait what the hell? why are you wearing that and i’m wearing a suit?”

- you groan dropping the box, “because sir… it’s fun.”

- he’s sitting on the couch and you walk in holding out the box with your face scrunched up

- “are you choso? here’s your package.” he rolls his eyes getting up wrapping his arm around your waist

- “when do you get off? ima hav to fix that attitude of yours.”

- you smirk, “how about now?”

toji: a devil and angel

- at first he didn’t want to do it

- but with some persuasion, he happily obliged

- you shove a bag in his face, peeking from the side smiling

- “lookie lookie at what i got.” he grabs the bag about to peek in but you snatch the bag.

- “no it’s a surprise, go get changed.” you say doing a happy dance.

- “where’s yours?” he says taking the bag from you looking around.

- “don’t worry about it, get changed.”

- after changing you both walk out and you clasp your hand over your mouth

- “oh my god you look so good.” he’s wearing small white tight shorts, and a halo over his head

- “damn… i could say the same.” you’re wearing red devil horns, a mesh red top with a red bra, and a red skirt with tights.

- “how about a devil and angel make love.”you say smiling.

- he grins walking towards you, “i’ll be so good for you tonight”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #jujutsu toji #dilf toji #toji x y/n #toji smut #jujutsu choso #choso x you #choso smut #getou suguru x y/n #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk choso #jjk gojo #jjk smut #suggestive #getou suguru x you #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami

[lovelybeesthings]

The one that got away 1

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Word count: 2.k

Warnings: idk?

Chapter 2

(I’m sorry this like a time skip before the games)

“It’s me or Lucy are you willing to give your life away for her!” I said you wanted the plinth prize but it seems it’s a love show of Snow and Lucy grey” I say with a smile scoffing as I hold back tears “Your over reacting Y/N! I’m just trying to win you know my current situation you sound mad!” He spits back.

He doesn’t look back at me and bites his tongue and with that I know he’s made up his mind “her or me! Her or me please..” I say looking at him watery eyes rosy cheeks I swallow the pain in my throat “I wish you the best of luck and for her” I speak in a calm voice wiping my tears as I walk away my heels clicking to ground

As I watch my tribute reaper gather the body’s one by one in the center of the arena my eyes begin to water his act of defiance takes a full on me and when he rips the capitols banner down to cover the body’s he looks into the cameras shouting I can’t control the tears in my eyes and walk away from the televisions and see Tigris’s at the exit smiling watching the tv.

I soon heard of the victory of Snow and Lucy grey I was happy for her win but I decided to not speak to Coriolanus and soon made my way home resting my head in my pink silk sheets as I change into a much compterable formal look negreo I knew it days began to fly then weeks I soon got heard of how Coriolanus was sent away to one of the distracts which hurt to here he really did anything for Lucy..

I put up my mask for every social event every gathering the perfect daughter of a well named man in the capitol but when I was home I locked myself in my room taking care of myself my mind slipping to the memories of Coriolanus white blond curls causing me to form sweat small smiles.

I was soon going on dates my mother and father had made for me I obliged some guys were sweet but stuck up or handsome and cocky I soon to think my soulmate had left and I’d have to be alone until one.. Devesh Sebastian the son of a politician he was different form the rest brownish locks that looked beautiful in the sun his eyes a light brown and sometimes gold if you looked at them in a right amount time his hair was long but a small pointy tail in the back leaving a few strand hair in the front, he dress himself nice white buttons up with a black tie black vest black coat and ideal man.

We soon got together and I brought up my heath curling hair with a bow light pink heels a white ish pinkish dress that’s beautiful land a white fur coat for an event a apply pinkish red lipstick and lip gloss (the ideal outfit it is in the bottom)

As I enter with Devesh my hand on his arm smiling giggling to his jokes and kiss him on the cheek and we part ways as I say hello to my parents and family friends and introduce myself to people I wonder what’s this event for I walk over to my mother “what’s this event for mother?” She soon reply’s in simple words “oh just this man reentering the capitol I think” she says as I nod and walk over to the drinks and grab two glasses of champagne and hear footsteps behind me.

“Oh sorry my dress is a big I’ll get out your way!” I say with a sweet smile “No need” a masculine voice responds that sounds familiar and I soon turn to face…Coriolanus snow but now his appearance is different his hair is cut shorter and styled some way back white colar red vest red coat red and red pants black shoes he’s cleaned himself so well “oh my Coriolanus! It’s so nice to see you once again!” I say with a sweet tone my voice like honey as I place down the glasses and hug him and grab the champagne glasses again.

“Y/n you look so beautiful this evening I thought I’d not see you until 20 years” he chuckles he mite look different but the way he is still feels the same “how’s it been I heard that you were sent to distract 12 to see Lucy?” I say as I’m confused on what happened “things changed different view points but I was able to come back to study under Dr. Volumnia” he speaks in a bold tone with a small smirk.

“Oh well I’m sorry to hear the part about Lucy but happy that it worked out in the end for you I have to go though bye! Croyo” I say as I walk away with the drinks in my hand to Devesh as he watches we walk away he clenches his fist as he sees me with another man thinking to him self who is that man is that her boyfriend did she not wait for me?

END OF PART ONE

This is the dress ^. This is the fur coat ^

#coriolanus snow x reader #reader #coriolanus snow #fanfic #tom blyth x resder #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Creatures Of The Night (18+)

Vampire!Eddie x Werewolf!Steve X Reader

Summary:Not very much here in terms of plot if we're being brutally honest, just some very fun and sexy times involving some monster steddie!

Warnings:NSFW, 18+, Making Out, Teasing, Fingering, Size Kink (slightly), Praise Kink, Oral Sex (Brief F Receiving), Missionary Sex, Cuddles afterwards for good measure!

Word Count:2, 213

Authour's Note:Maybe i'm unhinged for writing this but i'm just here for a good time and to fuck monsters, if that's not your thing then maybe this isn't the fic for you.

Masterlist

It was only ever under the bright white light of the moon that their true forms revealed themselves to you. The pitch black midnight provided them the chance to present themselves as they truly are.

Eddie with his pale skin, red-rimmed dark eyes, and spread of imposing bat-like wings. His wicked smile proudly shows off his two prominent sharp, pearly teeth. A few of his long dark curls had fallen loose from the bun tied at the nape of his neck, framing his pale face. He’d long been drawn to you, the scent of your blood called out to him, a rich, cherry-sweet scent unlike anything he’d ever come across before. His nose would brush against your neck, as his tongue licked over the pulsing veins in your neck, and despite it all, he could never bring himself to sink his teeth in, never wanting you to come to any harm, especially not at his cost.

And Steve, who’s broad shouldered frame is covered in thick coats of soft brown hair, his usual hazel brown eyes now glowed a honeyed golden sparkle in the moonlit dark of the bedroom. Even in his shaggy, wolf-like form there was still something incredibly human about him. The glint in his eyes that lets you know that underneath it all, he was still just your Stevie, and nothing could ever change that.

Maybe the way that you three came together each night wasn’t the conventional thing that was expected of three young adults living together in a small and quiet town like Hawkins but somehow you managed to make your rather unconventional situation work.

Most people wouldn't look twice at your boys in the harsh light of day. Steve in his usual look of light wash denim and striped polo shirts, a normal everyday outfit for the common man in Hawkins. And Eddie clad in his typical garb of some metal band's tour t-shirt, black leather jacket and black ripped jeans leading down to an old pair of tattered dark DMs was a look that most people turned their nose up at with a scoff. 

So yeah, mostly the residents of Hawkins, Indiana paid no mind to the two polar opposite boys who roamed their streets.

No. It wasn't until the sun dawned down each evening that your boys came out to play.

Being pinned between their two monstrous bodies was something that you welcomed. The touch of the supernatural was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

It started out as a typical night, with you in bed relaxingly cuddled against the warm, soft hairs of Steve’s chest, fingers absentmindedly playing with his soft brown coat. Your head resting against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

In stark contrast to the warmth you feel lying next to Steve, you feel Eddie’s presence sidling up beside you. The ice cold touch of his hand coasting up your arm as he leans in to press kisses along your collarbones, you feel his smirking smile against your skin as you shiver under his affections.

Eddie’s button-tipped nose is buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of you with a deep breath, before pressing one more cold kiss just underneath your ear. 

Steve wasn’t blind to what Eddie was trying to do, in fact he all but encouraged the vampire’s quest to arouse you. Steve quietly chuckled to himself as he felt you slyly trying to grind yourself naked body into his hairy thigh where your legs were tangled with his under the bed covers.

"Well would you look at that.." Steve's deep voice rumbles out "..it would seem as though our mate is getting a little squirmy from all those kisses your giving her, Munson" 

"Indeed it would, Harrington. How about we do something about that, huh pretty girl?" Eddie asks you, his voice a low raspy whisper beside your ear.

You lift yourself from the soft comfort of Steve's chest to nod your head. 

"I'm gonna need you to use your words, Sweet Thing." Eddie purrs out, ever the tease.

You nod your head once more

"Yes please.." you breathed.

"Always so polite.." Eddie smiles. He looks over to Steve and gives him a subtle nod of his head, which Steve understands right away, as his massive hands gently man-handle you into a position where you’re sat on the bed, with your body relaxing back against his soft furry chest, your head leaning against his shoulder.

Steve’s large hands are pawing at your exposed chest, squishing the soft flesh of your boobs under his rough touch. His fingers eagerly toying with your nipples, rolling each one between the calloused tips of his fingers. His lips hungrily sucks dark marks against your skin, trailing his kisses up the side of your neck.

“Hold her open, Wolfie.” Eddie commands Steve teasingly, knowing how much Steve hated Eddie’s affectionate nick-name for him. 

Steve’s hands immediately skate down the sides of your body, his nails leaving light scratch marks as he does. His big hands settle themselves on the soft skin of the inside of your thighs before spreading them and holding them open.

Eddie stands up and makes his way over to where you're so tantalisingly spread out for him. Stalking the room, his dark eyes never leaving your exposed frame.

You watch his movements with anticipation. There’s a delicious heat that warms through you as you watch how he lewdly spits in his palm before dropping his hand down and teasing his cock in slow strokes, his thumb swiping over the mess of pooling pre-cum gathering at the tip as his fist strokes upwards making sure to glide over the prominent vein that runs the underside of his length.

"Don’t worry Pretty Girl, I'm going to make you feel real good, real soon" Eddie promised. "Just gonna let Harrington have his moment with you first, you know he's gotta stretch you out to get you ready for me"

You feel the insistent press of Steve's cock at your back and all too quickly you're reminded of why he has to stretch you out. In his human form Steve was not small by any shred of the imagination, but with enough prep and slow, gentle movements from both parties you could take him.

However, in his humanoid-wolf hybrid form it was a different story. Everything about him was bigger, in every sense of the word. Of course you’d tried to take him, so desperate to feel the stretch of him inside you, but it would be a while before you could accommodate the press of his thick length in your tight wet heat. For now you had settled on a happy medium of being opened up by the rough and calloused touch of Steve’s fingers.

Starting with only one of his fingers, carefully teasing his way around your pussy, gathering the wetness on the pads of his fingertips before drawing it up and rubbing on your clit in tight circles. His thick finger slips back down and slowly inches inside you, just letting you adjust to the feeling of his finger for a moment before he begins to thrust in and out of you.

Your head falls back against his chest whimpering quiet little moans into the crook of his neck.

“Aw, is Stevie making you feel good, Sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice taunts, a slight tone of condescension as he watches Steve slip another one of his fingers inside you, working them in and out of your wet cunt.

Steve noses into your hair, deeply inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo, little gruff whines of approval falling from his lips as he feels you tighten around his fingers.

"That's it…There's my good girl, gonna come from me, aren’t you, Sweet Thing?" Steve growls against your skin, his sharp teeth nipping little marks against your neck.

You whine and babble incoherently as Steve continues to thrust his fingers and rub your clit in quick circles, holding you close to his body. 

Your orgasm rushes over you, clenching and pulsing against Steve’s thick fingers with a wet gush.

Steve gently rubs over your clit as tenderly as he can with his big pawing hands, helping you to come down from the high of your orgasm.

“There she is, my good girl…So sweet and pretty..” Steve breathes against your neck in-between placing tender to your skin.

“Think you mean our girl, Harrington. Thought you wolves were all about sharing with the rest of your pack, huh.” Eddie teases from where he’s sat on the edge of the bed, his dark brown almost black eyes scarcely tearing away from your steadily breathing frame. His long fingers are still slowly stroking over the length of his cock, keeping himself hard and ready just for you.

“You ready for me, Angel?” he asks, all too cocksure of the fact that you were never going to give him an answer short of a shy nod of your head and a breathy whine of ‘please’. 

“I’m ready please, Eddie..I just want to feel you..” you plead desperately, which earns you a rumbling chuckle from the vampire above you.

"Well since you asked so nicely, who am I to deny such a request?" Eddie smiles broadly, bearing his pearly fangs to you.

He leans his head between your spread legs, where Steve’s big strong hands hold you open, and places one soft, solitary kiss against your clit before sweeping his tongue the length of your pussy, slurping up glistening wetness.

"You know I can never resist getting a taste of your sweet cunt, my Darling" he purrs “..but it’s only fair that Wolfie here gets to have a taste too..” before leaning over your shoulder and bringing Steve close with a cold hand snaked around the back of his neck, his long fingers tugging into the soft strands of Steve's scruffy hair. Eddie presses his lips against Steve’s, his tongue slipping between his fangs to allow Steve to taste the sweetness of your juices in a heated and passionate kiss.

An appreciative growling hum resonates from the wolf as he licks his lips when Eddie pulls away from him.

“Always so sweet for us, Pretty girl..” Steve praises, making you beam under his affections.

“Oh! Does our pretty girl like being praised for being a good girl?” Eddie notes as he takes in the way you shy away into the crook of Steve’s neck.

Eddie hooks his finger under your chin, gently tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

You shyly nod your head, your words failing you as you’re pinned between these two supernatural beings.

“Well since you’re being such a good girl for us, then I guess it’s only fair that Eddie gets to feel you come for him the way I did.” Steve tells you, his fingers running back up your body to toy with your nipples.

With one more breathy whimper of ‘Please’ falling from your lips Eddie takes his cock in his hand and begins to sink himself into you inch by inch.

Eddie rolls his hips into you, filling you so completely every time he thrusts into you. The cold touch of his fingertips make you shiver as they sink into the warm, soft flesh of your thighs.

Steve takes his opportunity to snake one of his hands down your body to rub circles over your sensitive clit.

“Keep that up Harrington, she’s squeezing me so tight, she feels like a fuckin’ dream” Eddie praises as he continues to rut his hips into you, hitting against that spot inside you that has a flaring heat building in your stomach.

The lewd sounds of Steve’s growled kisses against your neck, Eddie’s sloppy thrusts as he chased his orgasm, and your own whining whimpers resound in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

It didn’t take much more than a few sharp thrusts from Eddie hitting so deeply inside you and Steve’s pawing hands rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pleasure that you were coming around Eddie’s cock. Your orgasm shuddering through your body.

With the way your walls were squeezing him so tightly Eddie buried himself deep inside you once more before he was filling you with the hot spurts of his release.

Taking a moment to gather yourselves, Eddie slowly pulls himself out of your tight wet heat with a hiss of sensitivity.

Steve pulls your body back to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and placing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head.

“Did so well for us sweetheart.” Steve praises once more.

“I love you, you know that, right? Both of you?” you say, looking between the two creatures.

“Yeah we know you do, sweetheart, we love you too.” Steve smiles “Now, you get your blood-sucking ass over here, Munson. I’ve got two arms for a reason.” he smirks, gesturing to the other empty space in the large bed.

Eddie slinks over to the bed, sidling up to Steve, and for the rest of the night that’s how you two spend your time together. You and Eddie snuggled into the soft warmth of Steve’s chest, falling into a relaxed and easy sleep.

@sunflowerdaydreamer @munsonology @xxhellfiregirlxx

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #vampire eddie munson #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #Steve Harrington x female reader #werewolf steve harrington #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #monster bf #monster fucker

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Infinite Solutions (snippet)

Hey hey, lovelies!

Here's a little snippet of the Professor!Andy Barber x Professor!Reader series/mini-series (haven't decided yet, lol). I've made a poll asking whether or not I should pursue this fic, and I've been getting great responses. So, there is a possibility it may become a series. 🤭🤭🤭

Anyways, Enjoy!!

Pairings: Law!Professor!Andy Barber

Word count: 700

Warnings: None yet

Summary: *It's still a surprise, hehe*

“You’re doing it again,” you hear a rough voice say. Looking away from the chalkboard, you see the dark-haired, blue-eyed man giving you a tired, tilted smile. You smile back, confused. “Huh?”

He sighs and nods his head, as if asking if he could enter. You nod, allowing him. “You’re going to break it,” he points at the white chalk in your fist. You hold it as though it’s the last thing to your name; you were so focused you didn’t know you were holding onto it for dear life.

“You’re supposed to be at home, sweetheart. Not break your head over some problem,” he waves his hand towards the blackboard. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your facial features to not react to the “sweetheart”. He looks at his expensive watch that sits nicely on his exposed forearm.

You take in his look, from the neat brown loafers to the nicely fitted black slacks to the light blue button-down where the sleeves were folded to his elbows, to the dark blue tie tucked nicely around his thick neck.

You push those thoughts aside, and you listen to him complain that you shouldn’t be here, at the university, this late at night.

“Just solving a problem,” you counter, placing the chalk back on its shelf. Andy sighs and nods, “I understand, but you know sleep is important, right?” You walk to your desk to pack up your stuff and you feel him follow you. He ducks his head to catch your eye, “right?”

You nod mindlessly, zipping up your messenger bag. You reach for the heavy textbook you haul all the time, but Andy grabs it before you could. “Let me,” he insists, as he adjusts his coat over the hinge of his elbow. You nod and say your thanks; you switch off your desk lamp and CPU, as your final routine for the night.

“Shall we?” He whispers, his deep blue eyes glinting against the moonlight streaming through your office window. You nod and your lips slightly twitch upwards, “sure, yeah. You gonna walk me to my car?” He chuckles and shakes his head, “that gonna be a problem?” His Boston accent incredibly strong.

You shake your head and lightly smile, “not at all, Barber.”

You both walk towards your door, and he holds it open for you, and you walk past him nodding your thanks.

The Boston chill hits you like a freight train, and you shiver instantly. Andy and you make a beeline towards your Corolla at the back of the parking lot. He makes you laugh with his dad jokes, and you ask him about little 3-year-old Jacob, and he says that he really appreciated you going to Jacob’s pre-school's Mother’s Day event.

“Ah, it’s really nothing. Anything to make that little troublemaker smile,” you brush off the compliment. Andy shakes his head, “No, I really do appreciate it a lot. You know, ever since Laurie left-.”

You nod, “Andy, It’s fine. And I really don’t mind helping you and Jakie out, really.” Andy gives you one of the softest smiles ever, and it warms your whole body despite the freezing chill of Massachusetts.

You press the button on your car keys, and your dark grey Corolla beeps. Andy opens the driver's side and as you’re about to get in, you stop and turn to face him. Your eyes widen as you didn’t realize how close you two were.

You could see the green specks in his eyes, and the little grey hairs in his thick beard. “I uh,” you start, staring at his lips. But your mind trails further to a place where it makes the tip of your ears flare red. You shouldn't be feeling these things towards Andy, he's a good friend of yours. A most importantly, your co-worker. Yes, you were in different faculty’s, but still.

Worst thing is, you could see that he feels the same. He senses the slight desire, the slight neediness you both have for the other. It's been simmering since the day you two met. The way he grips onto the door, the way he hands you back your textbook. He can’t stop looking at you, he can't stop thinking about you.

You're both waiting for the other to do something or the other, waiting for the bubble to burst.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his eyes darting between your lips and eyes. “Night,” you whisper back, and you pull yourself from your frozen position and get in the car. He shuts the door gently, before lightly tapping on your window and waving goodbye. You replicate the same gesture, before pulling out of the lot.

🎀🎀🎀

Alright lovelies!!!

What do we think?

This is the offical first piece of writing I will be posting on here. So, any feedback, thoughts or even comments are really appreciated!!

Till next time!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans characters #andy barber angst

[blueywrites]

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, swingers, smut, oral (f & m receiving), fingering (v), dirty talk, praise kink

chapter three: my curse (14k) | playlist | AO3 | next

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. songs for this chapter include #6-#14 and are all mentioned by name.

There is love

Burning to find you

Will you wait for me?

My Curse— Killswitch Engage

All day Friday, powdery-sweet Chrissy is on your mind as you labor through the shift from perdition. It's like the cosmos had overheard her question about crazy patient stories and generously decided to provide new conversation topics. You've been screamed at, berated, exasperated, and drawn so thin you spend the car ride decompressing in rare silence without your typical Spotify playlist. When you'd finally arrived home, the draw of sweatpants and nostalgia had proven too much to resist. You'd promptly cocooned on the loveseat in thick socks and a knitted blanket, retreating into Breath of the Wild for the umpteenth time. The buzz of your phone on the armrest runs up your elbow, but you're too absorbed to answer until the buzzing starts again, too insistent to ignore.

You glance to see it's Steve calling; you swipe and put him on speaker without pausing your game. "Hey," you answer, voice fond but somewhat distracted.

"Hey, babe." Steve sounds like he's in a wind tunnel. He must be driving. "What are you doin'?"

"Nothing," you answer absently, eyes still trained on the soft pastels of Kakariko Village until he says, 

"Well, I'll be home in forty, so start getting ready."

You frown in confusion, glancing at the contact picture on your phone screen: you and Steve at an NBA game, his anniversary present to you last year. "Ready for what?"

The smile in Steve's voice is audible. "Chrissy called. We're going to Insa tonight." 

You instantly straighten from your comfortable slouch, Switch abandoned beside you as you fumble up the phone. "Really?!"

"Yup." You can hear the happiness in his laugh as you squeal, tearing the blanket from your body and bolting for the bedroom. "She got us a private room for an hour."

You make another little joyful sound, hand already tugging at the shower knob, words spilling like a rush. "Yay! Okay, I'm getting ready, bye!"

"Love you," you hear Steve say.

"Love you!" You drop the phone onto the counter, hips wiggling as you wait for the water to warm. This is even more appealing than spending a night in with your favorite comfort game. You love music and singing, but traditional karaoke bars make you nervous— all those strangers staring at you on stage under the glare of the lights makes you instantly freeze. But Insa is a Korean karaoke bar, and since Chrissy has booked you a private room, it means it'll just be you and Steve, your two friends, and all the soju or sake you can drink. Here you were, thinking about Chrissy all day, and now it feels like you'd unintentionally manifested her invitation. Maybe the cosmos is trying to make amends.

  You decide that must be so as you choose your clothes: slouchy cardigan over tank top, tight black skirt almost obscenely short, sheer black tights to make up for it, white socks peeking just above Chelsea boots. You're still working on makeup when you hear a creak of the door and the jangle of keys to signal Steve's arrival. 

"I'm almost ready," you call, swiping mascara onto your top lashes. 

You hear him call back in acknowledgment, finishing the rest of your makeup with haste before fluffing out your hair and joining him near the door. 

He's still wearing his winter coat, unzipped to reveal dark jeans and an untucked button-up, his go-to for casual Fridays at the bank. His brown waves are a little windswept as he turns to you, and it matches the roguish sparkle in his eye as he takes you in. "Hey," Steve says, voice low and tinged with heat as you approach him.

"Hi," you answer happily, letting him pull you in for a kiss before you reach for your puffer jacket.

Steve's hand snakes back to your ass, drawing you against him as you tug one arm of your jacket on; you chuckle against his lips, protesting lightly, "Steve, we're gonna be late!" 

"Just wanna steal a minute to kiss my girl," Steve murmurs, and you can’t resist melting as he kisses you again, surrounding you in that familiar citrus cologne. You sneak your other arm underneath his coat to hug him, jacket half hanging off like you're trying to wear his and yours at once. The brush of Steve's tongue against the seam of your lips complements the heat— heat where the jackets drape around your body, heat where his palm grabs your ass, heat in the pit of your belly as his tongue meets yours.

Even without the radiator or your knitted blanket, Steve makes sure you're thoroughly and wonderfully warm before you venture out together into the cold night.

-

Luckily, on-time subway transfers and two powerwalked blocks later have you arriving at Insa with minutes to spare despite your short dalliance. You wander around clumps of people outside until Steve spots your friends near the wooden arch above the building's entrance. Seeing Chrissy's blonde ponytail fills you with effusive eagerness, and when her blue eyes meet yours, your broad smile is echoed on her lips. 

"Hi!" you greet her, arms opening for her tight embrace. "Thanks for inviting us!" 

"Of course!" Chrissy squeezes you affectionately tighter before she releases you to hug Steve. 

Leather creaks as Eddie moves closer, and you can feel his jacket seep cold even through your puffer jacket when you hug him, though his neck is warm as you graze it with your cheek. "Don't you have a better jacket than this?" you ask, running your fingers against the leather at his elbow.

You drop your hand, looking up into dark and twinkling eyes as Eddie replies, "Worried about me, sweetheart?" He smirks, a little crooked thing, and those full pink lips— their sudden phantom press against your own— make color prickle your cheeks. "Don't need one. My blood runs extra-hot." 

You hope your doubtful expression speaks for you and your sudden flush looks like it's from the cold. Judging by the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he’s not buying it.

"Come on, I'm freezing my balls off out here," Steve says, slinging an arm around your shoulders and hastening the four of you inside. 

"Certainly don't want that," you joke, pleased when Steve slants a grin at you as you're ushered to your room.

Inside is one long modular u-shaped couch against the back wall, a small coffee table, and two televisions: one against the front wall and one behind the couch so you can face your companions. Insa is one of the more technologically advanced karaoke restaurants: there’s an iPad for ordering drinks and a dedicated kiosk near the television to select songs. Coupled with its superior aesthetics— rich purple and turquoise mood lighting that avoids the tackiness of other bars— Insa boasts some of the largest crowds in the city, which makes it all the more exciting that Chrissy has surprised you and Steve with this outing tonight.

You shed your coats and watch Chrissy flounce over to the kiosk eagerly before the rest of you have even sat down. She's wearing a babydoll dress— one of those nearly shapeless ones that seem effortlessly chic on the right kind of person. With your curves, you think you'd probably look like you're wearing a potato sack if you attempted it, but you admire how it hangs beautifully on Chrissy. She looks like a cute little sugar-plum fairy as she scrolls through the offerings. 

"I guess Chris is going first," Eddie jokes, sprawling out in one corner of the couch with his dark legs spread, arm thrown against the back like he owns the place. He's in a long-sleeved muscle shirt in charcoal gray, accented by his signature flashes of silver— rings, wallet chain, and earrings that gleam in the neon light. Does he ever wear anything in color? Your eyes sweep him over as you sit, close but not quite sandwiched between him and Steve. Probably not, you think wryly, darting a quick glance at his profile as he grins cheekily at Chrissy when she glares at him.

"Not all of us get to be on stage every week, Mr. Rockstar," she reminds him sassily, plucking a microphone from the lower shelf on the kiosk and planting her feet in the middle of the open floor, hands on her hips. You can clearly see the cheerleading influence in her stance and expression, which is set in a confident mask of gleaming teeth and arched brows. A raucous female laugh begins her song choice, and Chrissy snaps the mic to her mouth to sing the first words: "Yeah, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want—"

Chrissy owns Wannabe by The Spice Girls as she struts around, flicking her fingers and swinging her wavy ponytail as she exudes attitude. "I won't be hasty; I'll give you a try," she sings, cocking a shoulder as she smolders, "If you really bug me, then I'll say goodbye—" Her voice is a little pitchy, but what she lacks in technique she certainly makes up for in confidence. Chrissy pivots around to face backward for the final chorus, swaying her hips until she hits the last line where she shoots you all a foxy look over her shoulder, cocking the mic to sing, "If you wanna be my lover."

As soon as the music fades, you're clapping wildly, cheering as she spins to face the couch with a broad, sparkling smile. "You did so good! You're, like, a natural," you say, looking up at her as she prances over, skirt billowing. 

"Thanks, y/n! I guess I still got it, huh?" she adds, looking to the men for confirmation.

"I'd say so," Steve answers. "I remember, when I was a senior on the basketball team, Chrissy was one of the best flyers on the squad. It was crazy how much air she'd get!"

You watch Chrissy's eyes sparkle as he acknowledges her skill. Eddie reaches out, pinching the edge of her dress and tugging playfully as he adds, "And she was head of the squad her senior year. Lead them to regionals with her own routine and everything."

You smile up at her again, though it shifts with surprise as she pulls you to your feet with startling strength for such a slight person. "You should go next," she says, squeezing your fingers, expression earnest. "Come on, you can do it! It doesn't matter how you sound; it's all about having fun!"

From someone else, the statement may have felt like a veiled insult. But Chrissy doesn't seem to have a mean bone in her body, so you realize she's just trying to be encouraging. "Okay," you say, a little shy with the exuberance of her glee. You swap places and take the mic, lips pursing as you peruse the options at the kiosk. 

Behind you, you hear Steve say, "She's actually a really good singer." You feel a flattered smile bloom at the praise as you choose one of your favorites to sing during karaoke: If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys. 

As you drift toward the middle of the space and the piano introduction begins, you see Chrissy squeeze Steve's arm, thin brows crinkled up sentimentally. "Aw, that's so sweet of you, Steve!"

For a moment, Steve looks perplexed at the comment, and you think maybe Chrissy believes he's just saying that to be nice. But you're not worried about it; you're not thinking about much of anything other than what you're about to sing. Still, you’re always most nervous for the first song of the night, so as you face your audience of three, their expectant stares threaten to make that familiar anxiety begin to frost in your chest. Thankfully, you know what to do in this situation: you simply close your eyes, letting the music wash over you before you begin to sing.

"Some people live for the fortune. Some people live just for the fame."

Your voice is pitched naturally lower than Chrissy's and has a bit of rasp, but it's smooth and practiced from years of singing in chorale in school. Yet it isn't a performance, not really, because it's not about that. You stand still, aside from a subtle instinctual sway, unconcerned about moving around for your audience. You're only interested in borrowing Alicia's words, letting them bloom out of you as if they're your own in a way your words sometimes can't when you try to speak. Once you hit the chorus, a smile kisses the corners of your lips as you feel the emotion in the song, channeling the sentiment: "Some people want it all, but I don't want nothing at all if it ain't you, baby; if I ain't got you, baby—"

Alicia is an incredible vocalist; you don't try to imitate her. You simplify the vocal runs later in the song, letting yourself improvise what feels good instead. And throughout it all, you keep your eyes closed, singing with a peaceful smile until that tinkling piano returns at the end to signal the song's conclusion.

There's a brief silence where you hang suspended in the moment, eyes still closed. And then it's broken by a swirl of spoken smoke.

"Shit." The exclamation isn't loud, but it cuts through the room nonetheless as you open your eyes and smile shyly. Your face flushes as Steve whistles with his fingers; beside him, Chrissy's eyes are wide, dainty fingers clasped as she pops up. 

Chrissy wraps her arm around yours and squeezes you close. "Wow! Steve, you really weren't kidding!" You're hit with a puff of expensive perfume as she clings to you, and her billowing skirt brushes against your tights while she sways you back and forth. "Let's do couples next," she suggests, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Is it okay if Eddie and I go first?"

"Sure," you reply easily, sitting between Steve and Eddie again as she heads to the kiosk. Immediately, Steve leans in, lightly knocking your shoulder with his.

"That's my girl," Steve says, hazel eyes shining with affection, broad palm landing on your knee and squeezing lightly. Appreciative, you kiss him on the cheek, stubble like fine sandpaper against your lips. His smile widens as he pats your knee, saying more briskly, "I'm gonna need to get at least one drink in me before I join you on the next song, babe." 

You watch him scroll through the menu on the iPad for a moment until a light brush against the small of your back has you turning to meet wide brown eyes.

Eddie is no longer slouched in the corner of the couch; instead, he's curved forward, left elbow braced on his knee as if poised to get up, though he seems to have no intention to do so as he leans toward you. "You are really good," he says sincerely. "I was pleasantly surprised."

Your nose wrinkles faintly, somewhat amused and at the edge of offense. "Pleasantly surprised?" A hint of a challenge tinges your voice as you add, "What, did you think I would be bad?"

Eddie's face falls as he stumbles. "I—" His eyes dart away, reminding you of the day you'd met— when, at the ice cream shop, you'd seen that pink on his typical black and white. The idea that it may happen again excites you, and you aren't quite sure why.

But Eddie doesn't turn pink; instead, he huffs a chuckle, slanting a glance back at you as his eyes glitter. "Well, I wouldn't say that."

It's obvious that he's teasing you, so you feign annoyance. "Well, you'd better look out because I might take your place and become frontwoman of Corroded Coffin if you keep talking smack." 

You try valiantly to maintain your pretend annoyance, but it's really quite hard when Eddie grins so manically, brown eyes eager as they flick you over. "I'd like to see that, sweetheart," he replies, and it's not sarcastic at all— in fact, he sounds eager, as if the idea excites him. And you realize, as his fingers twitch against your cardigan, that Eddie hasn't yet taken his hand off the small of your back. 

That pink that you'd been hoping for on Eddie's face colors your cheeks instead as he stares at you intently, and his manic smile tightens to a smirk when he notices. A flutter of wings trembles low when his gaze dips to your lips, and your tongue darts out to wet them just as Chrissy calls across the room, 

"Okay, Eddie, get up here! I picked the song."

The drag of his fingers against your back leaves you with a shiver when Eddie rises, stuffing his hands in his back pockets as he lopes over to Chrissy. As he surveys her choice, the door opens to reveal a server with a green bottle and four shot glasses. 

As she sets the tray on the coffee table, Steve immediately reaches for it, calling to the others; Eddie turns, swaying wild curls haloed by neon light. "C'mon, Chris," he says, nodding over. "I'm gonna need a fuckin' drink for this one."

The sardonic tinge to Eddie's voice intrigues you, and you wonder what song Chrissy has chosen as Steve passes you a glass of soju. You all drink together, and the alcohol is ice cold as it slides down your throat, settling into a comfortable burn in your belly. It lingers sweet on your teeth as Chrissy grabs Eddie's hand to pull him into their performance.

Eddie shifts his weight as he cracks his neck to the side, saying dryly, "Just warning you, I haven't warmed up my falsetto, so—"

Chrissy scoffs fondly. "Oh, come on, Eddie. You always sound good." 

"All right," he concedes, a little self-deprecating grin spreading as the music begins— jaunty bass and a jazzy piano that you'd recognize anywhere. Chrissy has chosen You're The One That I Want from Grease.

Despite his reticence, Eddie gamely gives the song his all. Though at first, his falsetto makes you want to giggle, you hold back, not wanting him to think you're laughing at him when he'd already seemed unsure about it. You soon find yourself smiling widely as they play off each other for the second bridge: "I'd better shape up cause you need a man—" Eddie begins, dark eyes locked on Chrissy as she takes over, drawing her hand down his chest. "I need a man who can keep me satisfied." 

Steve nudges another shot of soju into your hand. "Cheers, babe," he murmurs, warm breath ghosting your face before you both take your second shots. It slides down cold and burns in your belly again, but when it's followed by the quick, eager press of Steve's lips against yours, the burn is accompanied by a slight tingle. 

You break away to applaud as the song ends, watching as Eddie leans close to kiss Chrissy. Her hand finds his cheek when he begins to draw back, and when she presses forward for another kiss, you hear Steve whistle again, though this time it's a teasing, flirty two-tone that makes Chrissy break from the kiss to giggle. Eddie hugs Chrissy from behind, walking with her as they come over to the couch, and you see it again— the gentleness in those brown eyes, the softness in the way his pink lips tilt in a small smile when she sing-songs, "Your turn!" 

Steve’s hand finds yours, guiding you to the kiosk. "What do you wanna sing?"

You don't really care what song you and Steve sing right now— you're just content to be here with him and Eddie and Chrissy, surrounded by affection and music. "Whatever you want, babe." 

His smile widens at your reply, and he lazily drags his finger across the screen. "How about this one?" 

Fondness fills you as you see his suggestion is from Dirty Dancing. It's a sentimental movie for you both— you'd watched it the first time you'd spent the night at Steve's old apartment instead of going out. And while eating Chinese food on Steve's couch and cuddling in your lounge clothes seems so commonplace, that was what you'd valued about it: that it was casual, that it felt normal. That it seemed like the beginning of an intimate closeness that didn't require dressing up or fancy restaurants or showy gestures.

"Yeah," you agree softly. "I love that song."

You nearly forget you have an audience as you sing The Time of My Life with Steve, giggling at his characteristically loud, brassy voice. Steve never holds back at karaoke, though he is— by far— the worst singer of you four. But you couldn't care less as he sings to you, "I've been waiting for so long, now I finally found someone to stand by me." And you know Steve doesn't care how he sounds either, eyes locked on you while you sing to him, "With my body and soul, I want you more than you'll ever know." When the instrumental breakdown occurs, Steve grabs your hand, spinning you, strong arms lowering you into a dip that makes you squeal and laugh with delight before he brings you back up.

When it’s time for the final chorus, you give it your all, hopping as you throw your arm wide and sing with abandon. When the song fades out, Stever snatches you up as you laugh, lifting you briefly from your feet to kiss you before setting you quickly back down. 

"You guys are just so cute!" Chrissy beams at you, sweet and powdery soft as she leans against Eddie's side. You hold out a hand to them, eyes sparkling.

"Get up here, you two," you say, excitement dancing like sparks across your skin. "We have forty minutes left, and I don't wanna waste a second."

You sing several songs as a group, all crowded around the kiosk to decide on your selections. You each have wildly different tastes in music, so there's quite a bit of friendly bickering as you negotiate what to sing together. Still, with the shots flowing and the joy of shared experience, you delight in even that aspect of the process. After a number of group selections, Steve and Eddie shoo you girls off to the couch so that they can, as they say, 'serenade you.'

"Oh, God," you mutter good-naturedly, leaning comfortably against Chrissy as the guys huddle close to conspire. "What are we in for now?"

Apparently something entirely unexpected as the guys stand side-by-side, stone-faced while a guitar plucks along. Their faces remain serious even as Eddie croons, "Yeah…" in the most exaggeratedly whiny boy-band voice you've ever heard. You can't stifle an incredulous snort as you and Chrissy exchange glances, eyes wide as your lips twitch. Your eyes snap to your boyfriend as Steve sings loudly, "You are my fire, the one desire…."

You manage to hold your composure until Eddie whines, tossing his long curls dramatically, "But we—"  

You're cackling before he can even hit the next line, and for a split second, his composure wavers, a chuckle breaking through as he continues, "...are two worlds apart… can't reach to your heart—" 

The sight of Steve— the straight-laced banker in a collared button-up, all citrus and sea salt— and Eddie— the hardcore musician in combat boots and chains, all smoke and ink— singing I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys as a pretend-earnest duet is too much for you and Chrissy to take. As soon as the chorus starts, you both flush bright red with laughter, clinging to each other in utter hysterics. Once the song ends, all you can do is curl over into Chrissy's lap, burying your face in gauzy fabric as she collapses onto your back. Your reactions urge each other on until you're hysterical for long enough that Steve exclaims, "Jesus Christ, was it really that funny?"

You hear Eddie snipe, "You both are real fuckin' rude, you know." Your head pops up to see him swaggering around, gesturing widely and theatrically as he grouses, "Here we are, trying to sing about our undying love for you, and you have the gall—" he pauses dramatically, "the audacity— to laugh at us." He turns to Steve, arms crossed, head shaking like a scolding parent. "These girls don't deserve us, Harrington."

"You're right, Munson. Maybe we should find us a new pair of girls who appreciate real culture."

You and Chrissy straighten, exchanging looks of deep indignance as your boyfriends smirk at you. "We'll show you culture," she sniffs, shoulder brushing Eddie's as she pushes by him with you in tow. He and Steve chuckle to themselves, falling back onto the couch as you and Chrissy lean close to assess your options. You find yourself relishing this dynamic— allied with Chrissy against the two guys, conspiring to choose the best song to annoy them. You're giddy with feminine closeness as Chrissy whispers in your ear, though as you notice one particular song, you grab Chrissy's fingers to halt her scrolling.

"That one!" you say, voice hushed but urgent. You turn to her, eyes bright. "That's the one."

She purses her lips, brow crinkling. "Really?"

"Yes," you say firmly. Whereas usually, you would defer to her preference, your desire to provoke the guys has lit you inside, made you bold.

Chrissy must see your determination because she concedes quickly with a little shrug. "Okay."

You grin widely, victory and sweet revenge buzzing in your blood as you grab your microphone; Steve and Eddie’s conversation wanes as they see you standing before them. When you feel Chrissy's dress brush against your thigh, you tip your chin, smirking as you murmur with false sincerity, "We've chosen this song specifically for the country music fans in the audience."

In your peripheral, you see Steve's face crease in confusion, but your eyes are locked on black and white. You buzz with pleasure as Eddie cocks a brow at you, spreading his dark legs to settle into the couch corner, hint of a smirk growing on his lips. Those brown eyes are wide and dark as they hold yours, glittering with approval at the challenge in your stare. 

Your voice is pitched as close to sultry as you ever get as you finish your introduction: "We hope you thoroughly enjoy this."

You never perform when you sing, not really, but now, suddenly, you are. "Right now, he's probably slow-dancing with a bleach-blonde tramp, and she's probably gettin' frisky," you rasp, channeling the drama of Carrie Underwood's delivery. Chrissy sings the next line, high voice also loaded with attitude, and you alternate the verses and sing the choruses together. You play up the growl in your voice as you smolder, any self-consciousness forgotten, "Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats."

As you sing for Steve and Eddie, you suddenly understand the appeal of performance and why Chrissy's face became so luminous after she'd sung Wannabe . Their attention wraps around you, coiling into your blood, coaxing you to rock your hips and shoulders as you sing to them. It's intoxicating, the heat of their stares as you and Chrissy sway together, bodies brushing as they watch you; there's power in it, power that you've just barely tasted. 

And you know, as your gaze flits back and forth between both men, that you want more.

When the song ends, their approval is instant, pretend contentiousness forgotten now. After lavishing you in whistles and applause with Eddie, Steve notes, "We've got enough time for a couple more songs."

"All right," Eddie says decisively, slapping his thighs as he stands. "I'm going."

A flutter of moth's wings begins low at the idea of hearing his smoky voice again— not him singing a song from Grease or the Backstreet Boys, but something that echoes his performance the first time you'd heard him on stage. When, before you'd even known him, his voice had reached inside you, tugging at something that has only just begun to take root in newfound light.

You nestle snug between Chrissy and Steve as you wait for Eddie's song, knee nearly bouncing with anticipation. Impulsively, you take a cheeky swig from the soju bottle, shrugging as Steve shoots you an amused look. The soju isn't as pleasantly cold anymore, but the burn still spreads from your belly, coaxing out a little hazy smile as Eddie returns to the center of the room. You wonder what song he's chosen, thighs pressing together as you imagine harsh guitars or driving drums, as you remember the black and white of his torso on stage at the bar, ink now sadly hidden behind charcoal long sleeves.

You should have known by the mischievous twinkle in those dark eyes what was coming. But when a smooth R&B beat begins, you blink, clouded mind instantly befuddled. Eddie's voice is still that smoky husk, though it's intentionally exaggerated as he drags out the word, "Baby…" You remain perplexed until he sings the next line: "I'm hot, just like an oven. I need some lovin'..." 

Eddie's rendition of Sexual Healing seems to hover somewhere between his real performance at the bar and his joke performance of I Want It That Way. But when he starts slowly thrusting his hips, running one hand sensually across his chest and up his neck, it becomes abundantly clear that he's fucking around. 

Chrissy wrinkles her nose at his exaggerated movements— body rolling, hips twitching with little jerks as his lips curl with amusement. "Ugh, Eddie," she whines, "this is so cringy!" 

And you know what she means— it is cringy, and everyone knows it. But you can't help but utterly delight in the two sides of Eddie Munson that seem to alternate in little glimpses: confident, self-possessed, sharp, and wolfish, but also awkward, goofy, unafraid to be exactly how he wants to be even in the face of others' judgment. And you know Chrissy isn't judging him, not really, but you think even if she was, he wouldn't care at all.

As you watch Eddie gyrate, eyes wide and grin manic, you feel something start to build inside you— a desire to join in his revelry, in this uninhibited display of enjoyment that disregards the opinions of others.

And with your eyes on Eddie's black and white, you act on that desire. 

You pop up from the couch just in time for the music to swell; he holds the mic out toward you when he sees you coming so you can both sing, "Whenever blue teardrops are fallin'…."

Together you turn to face Chrissy and Steve, smiles wide as you sway, arms wrapping comfortably around each other's waists. You extend your hand toward the others, coaxing them with wagging brows and little shimmies of your shoulders to try to get them to join you. "The love you give to me will free me," you and Eddie sing, sides pressed together, hips bumping as you move out of rhythm. Steve eyes you skeptically as you urge him with your extended hand, but he can't keep the curve off his lips for long as you stage-whisper, "Get up, get up, get up, get up," like it's a message directed to him. Steve sighs heavily, smile springing free as he joins on your other side, wrapping his arm around your back atop Eddies. You barely stave off your giggle as you all start to sway back and forth. 

You do laugh when Steve and Eddie squish you between them to try to both reach the mic. Steve attempts to convince Chrissy to join you, who's still watching you all reluctantly, though you can tell by the look in those blue eyes that she's close to cracking. 

"Come on, Chris," Steve wheedles, and finally, she relents, smile spreading on her bow lips as she skirts around the coffee table, huddling close to sing, " Come take control, just grab ahold of my body and mind—" 

Uninhibited joy floods you entirely as the four of you sing together, all pressed close, faces shining with bright smiles and laughs as Chrissy finally gives in, committing to the cheesiness of this song. When it ends, Steve and Eddie wrap their arms around you both, squishing you together as you and she shriek and giggle. Still pressed tight, you all shuffle dizzily toward the kiosk to choose your final song.

You lean closer, dragging them all with you as you see Mamma Mia on the list. "Steve loves ABBA!" 

"You would love ABBA, dude," Eddie teases, and Steve reaches around you to shove him playfully. 

"Shut up," he grouses, though you predict trouble as his lips go tight against a smirk. "I could tell them about your guilty pleasure music, Munson—" 

Intrigue blooms as Eddie looks instantly horrified. "ABBA it is," he relents quickly, jabbing the selection to start the music and, you suspect, to avoid any follow-up questions.

Mamma Mia turns out to be the perfect song to end with as even Eddie, who'd implied his disdain by teasing Steve, seems to enjoy it. "Yes, I've been broken-hearted, blue since the day we parted," you all belt together, and when you glance at Eddie to see him smiling widely with dimpled cheeks and little scrunched lines at the edges of his warm brown eyes, it strikes you, for the first time, just how downright pretty he is. When those brown eyes catch yours, you don't look away from him, drawn in as the song concludes:

"Mamma mia, now I really know— my my, I could never let you go!"

And with that, your time at Insa comes to a close— but the night is far from over.

-

Inviting Eddie and Chrissy back to the apartment is inevitable, and you smile as Eddie opens the back passenger door of his van for you. "Comfy?" He grins, pulling the seatbelt down to press into your hand. "Buckle up," he says, voice warm and teasing as you giggle. 

"You may think he's kidding," Chrissy says, sweet voice floating back to you from the front seat as Eddie closes your door. "But Eddie is probably the worst driver I've ever met, so… I'd make sure you heed his advice."

When Eddie practically throws himself into the driver's seat, hand jerking the gearshift into reverse as he peeks back over his shoulder, the wicked mischievousness in those brown eyes has you scrambling for Steve's hand to hold tight. "I'm not the worst driver," Eddie says lightly, eyes glinting as he adds, "but I am the craziest."

Despite Eddie's ominous teasing, you make it back to your apartment happy and in one piece. In fact, you're practically effusive from the alcohol and leftover merriment despite how you stumble trying to toe off your boots on the welcome mat. Your loveseat is still littered with the remains of your planned night in— fuzzy socks and knitted blanket strewn across the cushions, Switch balanced on the arm. You gather your items as your boyfriend and guests shed their coats and shoes. Once the socks have been tossed in your hamper and the Switch returned to its ottoman, you reenter the living room with your folded blanket to see Steve and Eddie seated together on the big couch. 

Chrissy pulls the knit from your hands, draping it over the loveseat with impatience.

"What?" you say, perplexed as she pulls you along with purpose, but all becomes clear as she releases your hand to run her fingers lightly down your cardigan instead, smiling coquettishly.

"Let's give the boys a little show again," Chrissy suggests, hand trailing up your sheer black tights, fingertips skimming your thigh as you glance at the couch. And you see that heated look again in brown and hazel— the one they'd worn as you and Chrissy performed Before He Cheats . Heat that coils into you, that echoes the comfortable fuzz in your head from the soju; heat that reminds you of the power you'd discovered, the taste you'd wanted more of. 

You palm Chrissy's waist, crinkling the shapeless fabric against her lithe body as you slant an alluring glance at Steve and Eddie. "Yes," you murmur, "let's." Your smile stretches as you watch them shift against the couch— legs widening, palms rubbing on knees, heads falling back to observe the show.

Caught in the hypnotic power of their masculine gazes, you and Chrissy undress each other, peeking glances at your men as you reveal skin little by little. She slides your cardigan from your shoulders, air cold against your bare arms as you lift her dress to tease a glimpse of her panties before letting it fall again, giggling with her as the men huff their impatience. 

Gradually, Chrissy sheds each article of clothing from your body: your tank top to reveal your midnight blue bra, your tight black skirt— which nearly gets stuck on your ass, which would have been embarrassing if you hadn't noticed how both Eddie and Steve's eyes were wide and rapt as it finally bounced free— and your white socks. Finally, she peels your sheer black tights down your legs, revealing a matching set of cheeky midnight blue panties cut high on your hips. You run your hands along her clothed waist again as Chrissy smiles at you with pink bow lips, eyes meeting. You know what her expression means because you're feeling it too: the heady desire practically palpable in the air as it rolls off your boyfriends. The sensual feminine control you have over them in this moment, made more potent together.

Chrissy is wearing much less clothing than you, so you gently lift her dress over her head last, revealing a set of aggressively strappy black lingerie. She runs her hand over your bare waist to settle on the small of your back, and your hand settles on her hip, fingers resting against the thin strap of her thong. Together, you turn to face the couch, bodies on display for devouring gazes.

And devour they do— they no longer lean back against the couch, feigning nonchalance. No, Steve and Eddie are so clearly wound tight by your mutual display, eyes dark and gleaming as you both draw closer. 

You and Chrissy have a choice now: begin the night by approaching your own boyfriends, comfortable and safe; or, perhaps, decide to approach the other man on the couch, whose touch is still unfamiliar and thus tempting. As you glance between them— first at the roguish swoop of Steve's bangs over hungry hazel, the look on his face one you've seen many times before, and then to the wildness of Eddie's long disheveled curls, brown eyes darkened like ink, the look on his face one that makes you flutter with nerves— you realize that your emerging boldness isn't yet enough to steer you away from the comfort of Steve's arms.

You gently pull from Chrissy, eyes fixed on the buttons of Steve's shirt. As soon as you get close enough, his hands attach to your hips, warm and broad and not at all timid as he pulls you onto his lap. You settle, humming as he kneads the flesh of your ass. As his lips find the sensitive spot underneath your jaw, your eyes slip closed to work the buttons of his shirt open by feel. The couch dips to your right as Chrissy mirrors you on Eddie's lap, and you sneak a tiny peek at what they're doing. You see Eddie's thumb drag her bottom lip down as her hands dip to the hem of his muscle shirt. "Mmm," you hum again, breathy and quiet, as Steve sucks lightly on your neck, fingers moving faster to pop his buttons so you can feel the press of his skin against yours. 

As soon as you get the last button free, you pull away from Steve's mouth, dragging the fabric down his shoulders, revealing a dense cloud of hair on his chest. It's soft like fur under your fingers as you stroke him— your favorite thing to do when Steve's shirt is first removed— and you get just a glimpse of hazel nearly swallowed by black pupils before Steve's mouth claims yours.

Your fingers continue to drag through the hair on his chest as Steve cradles you close with solid arms, tongue dipping wet and insistent into your mouth. It's a novel experience to be making out on the couch next to another half-naked couple like this. You find with the doubled sounds blending together— the soft smack of lips, the subtleness of deepened breaths, the masculine rumble of low groans, the high, breathy moans to compliment them— that when the throb starts within you, it intensifies quickly, burning in your belly, building insistent need that demands to be sated.

Steve pulls you closer by your ass, the motion dragging your panties against his jeans, catching your clit just right to throw kindling on the burn. When his hands palm your breasts over your bra, your fingers find the buckle of his belt, tugging at it until it jangles loose and you can pull down his zipper. Steve leaves your mouth to press blistering kisses along your jaw; you lift your hips, and he dips lower on your neck to reach his pants, shimmying them down his legs until he can kick them off into a haphazard pile.

You sigh as Steve mouths at your neck, tangling your fingers in the thick waves of his brown hair when he starts to suck a mark, the sting adding to your kindling. And as you tilt your head back to give him more access, you hear it— quiet murmuring, a delicate voice pitched thick and sultry beside you.

"Am I your bad girl, Eddie?"

Your eyes pop open as surprise rushes, and you can't help but dart a quick glance at the couple beside you: sweet Chrissy with her powdery-soft eyes and saccharine smiles, face flushed as Eddie's plush lips drag against her throat when he murmurs back, "You know you are, baby."

Chrissy hums in pleasure, and you suck in a quick breath as you see Eddie's pink tongue dart out to lick at her skin, the sight conjuring the phantom brush against your own throat— wet and warm opposite Steve's sucking lips. You stifle a whimper as you burn hotter between your legs, hips shifting against Steve's lap as he sucks your neck more aggressively. And then Chrissy talks again, still quiet, but yet more shocking:

"I'm just a dirty little slut for you—"

Steve's lips suddenly pop from your neck, and you sway as his nose abruptly drags against your throat when he turns to look. "Damn, Chrissy," he rasps, sounding almost as surprised as you feel. "You've really got a mouth on you, huh?"

Chrissy's blue eyes widen, her gaze darting from you to Steve as she shrinks slightly in Eddie's arms, suddenly bashful. "No, no," Steve assures her, "it's a good thing. It's hot." He pulls one arm away from your back to clasp her forearm, rubbing his thumb soothingly against her skin. When your boyfriend smiles at her, you watch Chrissy's expression soften, a tiny relieved smile curling in return. "No need to be shy," he murmurs, soft and kind, and as you look at his profile— alkaline nose, stubble dusting his jaw, thick dark brows tugged up in an earnest expression of reassurance— you feel a sudden rush of fond affection for Steve Harrington. 

You glance at Chrissy again, smiling encouragingly when she meets your eyes before looking back at Steve. And you notice that Steve hasn't drawn his hand from Chrissy's arm, and Chrissy's gaze is running over Steve's face, and if they're looking at each other, then, well, that leaves you free to search for that pair of beautiful brown eyes.

And you find them— your heart thumps as you look at Eddie to see him already staring back at you, intent on your face. You feel that flutter of wings kick up as your gaze roves over him, heart beating faster at the sight of that dark body armor exposed again, so stark on the pale quartz of his arms and chest. 

Instantly, you need the press of Eddie's inked skin against yours.

You don't know if Eddie can see the desire in your eyes or if maybe he's just thinking the same thing as you— either way, it brings both relief and unbelievable tension when he murmurs, voice huskier than usual, "Do we wanna mix things up a bit?"

The implication is clear, and as Steve's palm drags lightly up your back, lips pressing against your temple, you look to Chrissy. 

Her face is flushed, blue eyes hazy with want as she watches Steve nuzzle against your skin; when her gaze catches yours, agreement flows between you. 

You each slip from your boyfriends' laps, exchanging soft smiles as you brush by one another to switch places. There's so much of Eddie's pale skin on display, so many dark trails of ink that weave across his chest and down his arms. Your gaze drags along them until it travels lower over his abdomen, over his soft stomach, over the trail of dark hair that leads down below checkered boxers, loose fabric obscuring what's beneath. You're willing— more than willing— but looking down into Eddie's dark eyes causes those wings to stir up, to flutter wildly with a potent mixture of anticipation, nervousness, and desire. 

Slowly, Eddie leans forward, gaze locked on your wide eyes, assessing your reaction as he draws closer. He touches you carefully; his fingertips drag lightly over your thigh, feather-light, traveling up, up, up until they brush against the lace of your panties at your hip. And when just the tip of his index finger sneaks beneath it, the touch coaxes you closer, drawing you to his ink and smoke.

When you settle on his lap, the drag of Eddie's warm arms as they close around your back makes you shiver despite their heat, lips parting as you near those brown eyes, that soft nose, that strong jaw, those full pink lips. Eddie tilts his chin up for you, an invitation, and his warm breath puffs against your lips before they finally meet again. 

Kissing Eddie is just like kissing Steve, but also nothing like it at all. His arms are firm like Steve's, and his lips are full like Steve's, and he holds you close like Steve does. But Eddie's curls brush against your neck, teasing your skin; Eddie's scent is muskier, less crisp than Steve's; and Eddie doesn't dive into your mouth like Steve does after three long years of dating. He's more polite— not quite hesitant, but careful as his lips press to yours, not deep or thorough enough to sate the want that's throbbing between your legs. And you appreciate his consideration, but you need more.

You tilt your head, fingers finding his jaw as you press closer, urging him silently to take more of you. Your arousal flutters when you pull that breathy groan again from his throat at your eagerness, and Eddie's arms tighten, pressing your breasts to his chest as he leans into you with his kiss. Your blood sings as he kisses you deeper for a while until he pulls from your mouth to duck to your neck. Eddie licks a path up your throat, slick and hot, and you tip your head to give him room, arms draping over his shoulders, fingers finally tucking into those wild curls you've been admiring from afar. 

Eddie groans quietly against your skin as his hands run over your back, calloused and rough, dragging over your shoulders and spine with a tantalizing rasp. You notice that his fingers begin to linger near the band of your bra, and you anticipate his question before it rumbles against your throat. "Can I take this off?"

Though you'd been prepared for it, as it's voiced, the question makes those wings flutter again, mixing nerves with arousal. A quick breath, the press of your fingers into curls to ground you, and then you answer. "Yes," you whisper, breathing deep as you feel him work at the clasp.

A high moan next to you has your eyes darting to the left for the first time since you'd crawled into Eddie's lap. Steve is sucking at the thin column of Chrissy's throat. You wonder briefly if it's invasive to watch them, but the thought melts as you notice Chrissy's bra is already off, and your boyfriend's broad hand is gripping her breast, fingers rolling her nipple.

Chrissy's breasts are just as delicate as the rest of her: small and perky, with little pink nipples nearly engulfed by Steve's broad fingers. So different from your breasts, different enough to make a sudden flash of insecurity prickle as they fall free from your bra, bottom-heavy.

You turn away from Chrissy, nerves sharpening when you see Eddie's gaze roving over your breasts. The instinctual desire to hide is strong, but Eddie speaks before you can. "Look at you," he hums, practically a purr as he looks up at you, eyes glittering with approval. His voice startles you, and you feel your cheeks flush as he presses you gently closer with his palm against your spine. When Eddie kisses the base of your throat, plush lips soft and warm, your nerves settle; when he nips downward, the flutters take over as you stretch your spine, angling your chest up for him.

As Eddie's lips draw closer to your nipple, you shift your hips unconsciously, body seeking to ease the ache between your legs. When he hums, hands wrapping around your hips, you realize that Eddie is very vocal— you can hear each time he responds to something you've done, and you find you enjoy having that knowledge, that confirmation. When he lifts your hips slightly so he can adjust beneath you, the groan he muffles against your skin when his hardening length presses against your pussy echoes the relief you feel inside but don't voice. He's hot through those loose boxers, firm as he drags against your heat when you shift your hips experimentally again, quietly exploring how he feels. But when his lips close around your nipple, sucking at the same time you use him to drag friction against your clit, you can't prevent the tiny whimper that escapes your lips.

Eddie switches to the other breast, presses his face closer, sucks harder, and you're pleased that he seems to have enjoyed your sound. Calloused hands meet at the small of your back, silently urging you forward; encouraged, you rock against him again. With each shift of your hips on his lap and each hot lave of his tongue against your nipples, you stoke each other's fires, clear in how you throb harder and he hardens further beneath you.

You hear Chrissy murmur again, coquettish and smooth: ""You know, Steve, I can be your little slut, too."  

You don't look, eyes closed while Eddie lavishes your breasts, but you hear your boyfriend chuckle breathlessly, husky and eager. "Yeah?" Chrissy hums, and their lips smack, soft groans and moans falling from them, washing over you. The heat in their voices— the evidence of their pleasure— adds to your own pleasure, and you move your hips more boldly against Eddie's lap as you hear it. You're enjoying how he's sucking your nipples, each brush of his tongue zinging to your pussy, but your desire suddenly shifts. You use the fingers buried in his hair to tug him lightly from you, pussy pulsing as he startles a slight groan, brown eyes snapping to yours as his pupils dilate. 

It only confirms what you'd just realized: Eddie's reactions feed you, and you're hungry for more.

You tilt his head back, ducking to kiss and suck at the edge of his jaw, mouthing at the pale quartz of his throat. You wonder what Eddie would do if you worked a bruise into his skin— would he suck in a delicious gasp of air? Would he moan, chest rumbling against your breasts? Would his hips twitch beneath you, pressing himself up into your heat? 

To experiment, you kiss him sweetly beneath his ear, stimulating the skin before taking it between your teeth, nipping gently. You feel his breath catch in his chest; his hands take firm hold of your hips for the first time, dragging you against his hard cock. 

And oh, is it so utterly satisfying when Eddie's hips press up into you, wanting you closer as you suck and nip at his throat. When he starts a slow, steady grind, pushing you down against his cock as he drags friction along your clit, both of your breaths deepen, quicken, murmuring small sounds of pleasure into each other's skin and hair. Arousal begins to tighten low in your belly, kindling finally catching fire, pussy now slick and heated.

"I need your mouth on my cunt, Steve."

You flush hotter as you hear Chrissy's words and feel Eddie's fingers tighten against your hips. The idea sits loaded between you as Steve murmurs something to Chrissy, presumably about her proposition, but you can't be bothered to listen as you feel Eddie swallow under your lips, chest pressing to your breasts with his deep breath.

Eddie's fingers find your jaw then, gently guiding you up to look into his eyes: brown burnished to warm amber, lit from within by feverish desire. Desire for you. It makes you pulse again, knees squeezing lightly against the outside of his hips.

After looking at you for a moment, Eddie draws closer, soft nose brushing your ear. "You wanna?" he husks, lips feather-light against the skin of your throat. Tantalizing smoke flows, inflating your lungs as he asks, "You want me to go down on you?"

You bite your lip as a thrill pulses through you, and you nod, frizzy curls brushing your cheek. He kisses you again underneath your ear, firmer now, seeming eager at your answer. His eagerness settles into you, and your excitement rises as Eddie kisses a path back to your lips. You cup his jaw as he reaches your mouth, opening your lips for him, tasting his tongue for the first time. 

Eddie's tongue is sweet like soju and spicy like cinnamon gum, but it mostly tastes like nothing you've tasted before— his flavor, you suppose. His tongue is firm and wet as it dips into your mouth, and you press yourself to his chest as you taste him, wanting every inch of his skin against your own, as much as you can touch. 

Beside you, Chrissy squeals as the couch suddenly shifts, and you part from Eddie's mouth in surprise at the sudden movement. You see Steve carrying her to the loveseat; lithe, pale arms wrap around his broad shoulders, ankles meeting at the waistline of his tight black boxer briefs. 

You don't want to, but you start to think about how easy it was for Steve to lift Chrissy, how he never picks you up like that—

Eddie's thumb brushes against your clothed slit, and the thought promptly sieves from your conscious mind.

You find brown eyes by instinct, a little plaintive crease forming in your brow as you look at him. Eddie's lips curl in a smile when, as he brushes you again, you gasp, and your eyes dart down to watch his hand— ruddy knuckles, gleaming silver rings that look aggressive against the dainty lace of your blue panties. You squirm slightly as he palms your thighs, fingers kneading flesh, and you see it at the same time you feel it— the overwhelming wetness of your pussy, the saturation of your panties. The wet spot on the front of his boxers, which you wish was from him but know is from you.

A hot rush of embarrassment pours down your spine as you realize you've soaked through your underwear onto his, but Eddie seems not to share your sentiment. His smile grows, eyes half-lidded and heated as he draws closer to your face. "So wet for me," Eddie praises you, breath ghosting against your lips, inky eyes glittering with approval. When his thumb brushes you again, you shift into his touch, hips pressing it more firmly against your slick heat, seeking more pressure.

A glint of teeth as his smile turns to a smirk. "Mmm," Eddie hums, voice low, husked against your lips. "Good girl."

Your breath catches, pussy clenching as he calls you that— feeling bursts low in your belly, fluttering, blooming up to your chest as you whimper for him. "Oh," Eddie murmurs, voice still quiet but curious now, as if he's discovered something. "You like that, don't you?"

Your face flushes hot, lips twisting as you shrink from a response, but Eddie takes pity on you. "Lie down on the couch for me," he says, releasing you from having to answer. 

You rearrange until you're stretched out flat on the big couch, looking beyond your breasts to the valley of your soft stomach, the curve of your thighs, watching as Eddie's fingers seek blue lace. He pauses before he removes them, on his knees and hovering above you, wild curls like a dark stormcloud around his head, patient as he waits for your permission. 

Your chest heaves with a shaky breath, and then you nod.

The air is cold against your newly-revealed skin as Eddie drags your panties from you, and you bite your lip as you feel them graze your calves. You look up at the white ceiling as his hands softly press your thighs apart, heart thumping as his curls brush your skin, pussy throbbing with the anticipation of his mouth on you—

As Eddie licks a thick stripe up your pussy, your quiet moan expresses your blissful relief.

His tongue is slick fire against your heat, wet and firm on your swollen flesh. Again, it strikes you, just like when you'd first sat on his lap, how he feels different from Steve. The thought fills you with a naughty thrill, the knowledge that you're letting another man lick your pussy while your boyfriend is sprawled out on the loveseat nearby, having given his full permission. You're allowed to enjoy this, to relish the way Eddie's broad tongue parts your folds, the way he drags that slick fire from your entrance to your clit before teasing it with little light brushes of his tongue-tip, little flicks that make your hips shift as he stokes the burn in your belly. 

That burn only increases as Eddie starts to explore you— thumbs pulling your folds apart, tongue dipping into your entrance, lips sucking lightly on your clit, tongue swirling in different patterns as if he's trying to learn you, to seek out your strongest reactions. And when he finds something that makes your thighs twitch, or your breath hitch, or your lips part with a moan or whimper, he does it again and again, a little firmer or lighter, a little faster or slower, curious like he'd been when he'd discovered you liked the way he spoke to you.

It begins to build— the tension inside you, encouraged by Eddie's eager seeking. But it's not the only thing that builds— you're suddenly reminded of what your boyfriend is doing sprawled out on the loveseat nearby when their sounds hit you like someone has turned up the dial and stripped away any filters.

You hear Chrissy first: loud feminine moaning, interrupted as she mewls, "Fuck, yeah— oh, that feels so good, Steve." 

Steve groans, the sound muffled as if against flesh. "Your pussy tastes so fuckin' amazing." 

Another moan, higher. "Oh yeah, shit, Steve— finger-fuck me hard, baby—" 

More groaning, loud and deep. "Oh, fuck—"

Though Eddie's tongue is lavishing you with pleasure, once you hear them, you can't stop the spiral of your thoughts. You're suddenly conscious that you've been mostly silent this whole time. Should I be making more noise? You remember how Chrissy had called herself a bad girl for Eddie, how he'd seemed to like it. Should I be saying things like that? You can feel it: the freeze that begins to creep, to spread along your ribs. And as Eddie keeps licking you, Steve's voice echoes in your head: 'Your pussy tastes so fucking amazing,' he'd told Chrissy. Steve has never said you taste bad or anything— he's never really said anything about your taste before. What if I don't taste as good as her? What if Eddie doesn't like the way I taste but is too nice to say anything? What if—?

When the wet heat of Eddie's tongue leaves you, it almost seems like confirmation of your spiraling thoughts— the freeze travels up your throat, brow twitching with distress until you feel the couch shift underneath his weight. And then he's there: fingers brushing back the hair at your temple, brown eyes staring calmly into your own, warm skin covering you as your thighs part to accommodate his hips. 

Eddie's voice is a soft murmur. "You're all tangled up in your head, aren't you?"

Your eyes dart between each of his as you look up at him shyly, swallowing thick against the freeze. But his warm gaze is melting it; the heat of his chest is sinking into your ribcage. You nod for him.

"Focus on me," he says, ducking his head to press his lips to yours. 

And as you breathe slowly through your nose, lips parting to allow him access, Steve and Chrissy recede. You let them fade as Eddie coaxes you back to him, tongue slick against yours, fingers stroking your cheeks and jaw and neck until you make a breathy sound against his lips and your hips shift up into his, seeking, wanting. "There she is," Eddie murmurs, approval clear in that rasp of smoke he breathes into your mouth. He pulls back, curls brushing your collarbone as he strokes your hair again. "I wanna make you feel good," he says. "Will you let me make you feel good?"

"Yes," you whisper.

Eddie hovers nearby, waiting patiently as you look into his eyes, that warm brown burnished to amber. And then you stretch your neck to kiss him. 

As soon as your mouth meets his, he leans in, lips pillow-soft and plush, sticking slightly as you pull away. You're rewarded with a crook of a smile and a smoky purr. "That's it, sweet girl."

It's like 'sweetheart,' like 'good girl,' except it's so much fucking better. Your pussy pulses, hips pressing up into him as feeling blooms in your body, sweet like a rush of rain. You kiss Eddie again, more passionately this time, hands cupping his jaw to keep him close. He groans against your mouth, hips pressing his cock to your pussy, only the thin fabric of his boxers separating your hot skin. Mouths open, wet, sloppier than before, tasting of alcohol and cinnamon and musk— the flavor of your pussy on his tongue. 

And when Eddie, now satisfied that he will sustain your attention, travels down your body— dropping kisses over the peaks of your breasts, the slope of your soft stomach, the wide curve of your hip— you aren't thinking about anything except his mouth on you: where it is now, and where it's going to be as it travels lower, lower, lower.

As his broad tongue parts you again, your hips twitch up into him, less inhibited now. Eddie groans against your heat, vibrating deliciously, and you feel that fire burn hot in your belly as he noses your clit, tongue dipping into your entrance. He moves back up, lips sucking on your clit, and your sigh turns to a moan as you feel his finger press inside, stretching you slowly. You reach down for him, soft fingers weaving with callused where his hand rests against your hip. 

And it's so strange. His tongue is working your clit, and his finger is stretching you open. But it's when Eddie squeezes your hand, fingers holding tightly to yours, that something shifts inside: creeping, extending into peat, quivering down into soil at the bottom of you.

Distantly, you register that Chrissy's moaning and mewling have begun to intensify, to crest in a wave of feminine satisfaction. But you don't think about that. You're thinking about the sound Eddie makes as you tangle the fingers of your other hand in his hair, the way he moans against your swollen flesh, voice pitched higher than before. Discovering that reaction makes you wonder how else you might make him react. You imagine that pale quartz skin flushed as you take him into your mouth; you imagine that strong jaw tensing as you lower onto him, engulfing him in your wet warmth. You imagine those plush lips spilling groans as you rock on his length; you imagine his brow contorting in pleasure as he empties inside you.

And with these imaginings, you're nearly shocked to feel that tightening in your lower belly, the tingling burn that signals your approaching orgasm. You're shocked because this never happens— not from being eaten out. Not from being fingered. And your breath quickens, fingers grasping desperately onto Eddie's as your muscles tense in anticipation, head tilting back as you begin to moan louder, for once unconcerned about the noise you're making—

The creak of the coffee table is abrupt and utterly startling, and your eyes pop open as adrenaline spikes in your chest, gaze darting toward the sound.

It's Steve, sitting on the table, hard cock trapped behind tight boxers, hazel eyes darting intently between your face and your spread legs.

And it's Chrissy, standing beside him, letting Steve guide her onto his lap as her blue eyes rove over your naked body.

Instantly, your muscles tense for a different reason, your arousal withering under the weight of their stares, feeling like you're a bug under a microscope.

You realize, with startling clarity, that the brush of Eddie's tongue and the press of his finger is no longer stimulating you, that your orgasm has been chased away by your audience. Eddie hasn't noticed yet that things have changed for you, and you desperately want to keep it that way. And it's not the first time you've faked an orgasm for Steve. It's not that it doesn't feel good, that Steve isn't good at it— clearly, he must be since he made Chrissy cum. It's because you can never fully relax enough to let yourself go. 

So you do what you always do: you make your chest heave with deepened breaths, tense your legs against Eddie's ears, but not too hard; and then, when you deem you've gone long enough, you throw back your head, drag your moans out as you twitch your hips up into Eddie's face, writhing against the couch.

"That's it, baby," Steve murmurs, and you know you've been convincing.

You open your eyes when the couch dips beside your shoulder, registering Steve's face just before he kisses you. You open your lips automatically, though you balk slightly at the unfamiliar musky taste on his tongue, realizing it's Chrissy in his mouth. You withdraw your fingers from Eddie then, releasing his hair and hand, and your thighs are cold without the tickle of his curls against them as he withdraws from you. You keep kissing Steve as you feel Eddie pull up your panties, lifting your hips for him. And as the kindness of the gesture strikes you, you pull from Steve's lips then, glancing up at the man still kneeling between your legs.

Eddie's arm is wrapped around Chrissy's waist as she clings to his side, pink bow lips happily pressing kisses to his cheek. You watch him wipe his mouth on the back of his wrist, but when your eyes dart up to his, the ink of his stare— its intensity— makes you suddenly want to squirm.

Unnerved, you avoid Eddie's gaze, pecking Steve one last time on the mouth as you brush back a rogue lock of hair that's fallen over his eye. You aren't sure what Eddie's stare means— if he's expecting you to thank him, or if he wants to tell you something, or if, God forbid, he'd found the experience of eating you out less than pleasant. 

As vague nervousness pings in your chest, you know you need to do something to distract yourself from this train of thought, and the question of what to do is thankfully answered by Chrissy:

"All right, Mr. Harrington." She smiles foxily. "Now it's your turn."

Eddie's arm slides from Chrissy's waist as she and Steve move close; when she settles on her knees before him, you sit up, eyes locked with purpose on the front of Eddie's loose boxers, now tented. While part of you wants a distraction from your nervousness, another part conjures the flush of Eddie's face as you again imagine going down on him, and you feel your pussy pulse despite the lingering nerves. 

You choose to let that decide for you.

"I'm happy to return the favor, you know. Since you got me off." You sound more confident than you feel.

Your gaze darts to his, diverting quickly as that strange intensity remains in his eyes. But when you kneel beside Chrissy, looking up at him, Eddie rises from the couch to stand next to Steve, pale hands hanging loosely at his sides. 

It seems whatever he's thinking isn't pressing enough to distract from the promise of your mouth on him.

You draw your fingers lightly up his legs, sparse hair tickling as you reach up, up, up to the waistband of his boxers, dipping your fingertips underneath as you lift on your knees to press a kiss beside his navel. When you look at Eddie again, that intensity in his face has shifted, heated, turned desirous once more as he watches you slowly pull down his boxers.

He pops free from the fabric, stiff and thick, not as long as Steve but flushed a deep, mouthwatering pink at the tip, standing proud from a snatch of dark curls. You suck in a quick breath as you see him, as he steps from his boxers and his length bobs near your cheek with the movement. Beside you, Chrissy is already working Steve, tongue swirling around his head, delicate fingers lightly gripping the base of his cock— but you don't want to watch her, mesmerizing though her technique may be. 

You want to watch the man standing before you.

Your tongue darts out to taste him, dragging slowly along the underside of his head, and you watch Eddie's adam's apple jump with a thick swallow, eyes locked on yours as you take him into your mouth. His precum is briny on your tongue, and you bob lightly on his tip until he's breathing more heavily. You explore him the way he'd explored you, trying to learn what he likes— licking a fat stripe up the underside, flicking your tongue against his frenulum, taking him further into your mouth, jaw clicking as you stretch to accommodate him. And that flush you'd imagined on his cheeks— you're watching it spread now, relishing the sound of his moans as you suck and lick him, lavishing all your attention on his cock.

Eddie's flush and his sounds spur you on, making you bold. And maybe it's the way Chrissy is so expertly bobbing and swirling on Steve's cock beside you. Or maybe it's your hunger for more of Eddie's reactions. Whatever it is, you're possessed to do something you've never thought to do before: as your lips pop from the head of Eddie's cock, you work his length with your hand, ducking your head and gently sucking one of his balls into your mouth.

His reaction is immediate and utterly breathtaking. 

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, hand fisting against his thigh, ruddy knuckles turning pale white above his chunky silver rings. Your pussy throbs, and you hum; he thrusts into your fist, smoky groans slipping from his lips as you lick and suck on his balls until you feel his warm palm clasp the back of your head, fingers tightening in your hair. You release him then, taking his length into your mouth again, sucking him as you work the underside of his cock with your tongue. 

You may not be as good as Chrissy at giving head, but damned if you haven't had plenty of practice these last three years.

The tell-tale sound of Steve's release— a ragged breath, groans stifled in his throat— is unmistakable beside you, and you keep bobbing on Eddie's cock as you glance to see Steve painting Chrissy's perky breasts with his cum. She squishes them together with her hands, sucking his tip as he gasps and moans, and you're distracted until you feel Eddie's fingers tighten in your hair again. You look up at him then, watching his eyes dart briefly to the side before returning to you, remaining there as you take him a little deeper into your mouth. Eddie's fingers in your hair loosen, but not to let go; instead, he drags his palm further down to cup the back of your skull, voice a husky murmur as he tells you, "I'm close."

You hum a moan around his length, and Eddie takes a sharp breath, jaw tightening, brow tensing, dark eyes intent as he watches you suck his cock. You can feel him starting to twitch in your mouth, and you prepare to pull off and swap to your hand to bring him to completion.

And then Eddie strokes your hair as he husks, "You want my cum, sweetheart?"

The answer, before he'd asked, was no, not particularly. Sure, you'd wanted him to orgasm because that was your aim in giving him a blowjob. But did you want his cum? You wouldn't say so. Yet the way Eddie's face looks— framed by those beautifully wild curls, brown eyes hazy and inky-black with his want for you, brow pinched, cheeks flushed— and the way his voice sounds, that smoky timbre that won't stop reaching, tugging, pulling deep inside you….

Suddenly, you do. You want Eddie's cum.

"Mmhmm," you confirm, humming around his cock, taking him deeper yet, eyes locked on his face as those full lips fall open with a deep moan, and Eddie gives you what you want.

He's briny and musky but not unpleasant as he floods your mouth, cock twitching on your tongue. You pull off until just his tip is inside, swallowing him down as best you can. But there's a lot of cum, and you're not used to swallowing, so it's not surprising that a little leaks from your lips as you try to keep up. 

Your eyes open as you feel a brush against your face, and you only realize then that you'd closed them. You blink, realizing that Eddie's hand is on your cheek and his thumb is wiping a bit of cum from the corner of your lips. And that gentleness you see sometimes— it's there now, pouring out in amber brown as he looks at you, eyes deep and framed by long, dark lashes.

A flutter of wings accompanies the brush of Eddie's thumb against your skin, and you find yourself running your palm softly up his calf, wanting to somehow communicate the blooming you feel inside at the tenderness of his touch.

"Damn, Munson," Steve says, and your spine straightens at the loudness. "How'd you get her to do that?" He chuckles, hazel eyes teasing as your gaze darts to meet them. "Gotta give me pointers," Steve jokes, and you pull your head back, suddenly realizing that your lips are still wrapped around Eddie's cock.

Eddie huffs a chuckle, glancing at his friend as his hand drops from the back of your head. "Well, maybe if you tasted better," he ribs lightly, cocking a brow. "I eat my weight in Twizzlers." 

Steve scoffs, shoving his shoulder. "Fuck off."

You'd felt on the edge of embarrassment, but it recedes as their attention leaves you, focused on each other instead. You look at Chrissy to your side, gaze meeting powdery-soft blue and a kind smile. 

A sudden surge of fondness for Chrissy fills you as you kneel side-by-side while the men argue familiarly. Strangely, there isn't any strangeness between you after having blown each other's boyfriends, but you welcome that lack as she rolls her eyes at their antics, fluttering her eyelashes to imply exasperation. 

You giggle, jerking your chin toward the bedroom. "Come on," you say, smiling at her. "Let's get cleaned up and dressed. Forget the bickering dummies."

-

When you emerge from the bedroom, you find the guys have resolved their petty argument and are sitting at the dining room table, presumably waiting for you both. You've redressed in your black skirt, tank top, and cardigan out of solidarity with Chrissy since she didn't have anything but her dress to wear, though you'd pretended it was just for convenience, so she didn't feel bad. You somewhat regret that when Chrissy wants to talk to Steve about her class again— it turns out that wasn't merely a ploy to get you and Eddie to spend together that first time you'd met— and Eddie says he has something for you in his van.

The air is cold against your bare legs as you stand near the back doors, hugging yourself tight, cardigan not nearly enough to ward off the chill. It’s forgotten, though, when Eddie emerges with a swath of black fabric, smiling manically, brown eyes wide as he brandishes his find.

It's a t-shirt with white graphics: an open coffin and swathe of bats that flow across the jagged name ‘Corroded Coffin.’ "If you're gonna take my place," he says, dark eyes dancing, "you gotta rep the merch."

You laugh as you take it from him, holding it up to your torso. It's at least three sizes too big for you, but you don't care; you bunch it in your hands as Eddie explains, "Sorry it's so big— we only have these leftover 'til we order more."

Unconcerned, you pop the shirt over your head. You giggle as you realize it covers your skirt and fits easily, even over your cardigan, arms spreading wide to show it off. 

You thank him genuinely, then follow up with a tease. "When's my first show? I'm free next week."

Eddie laughs, the sound scratchy and thick, and it flutters low in your belly— the knowledge that you'd amused him. "Hold on, now," he says. "You haven't even auditioned yet."

"True," you reply, smiling as his eyes crinkle at you. You don't know what possesses you— it's a total non sequitur, and it makes no sense to ask right now, but you really want to know. "Was it good?" you ask, voice hesitant and quiet. "The, um…" you work to clarify as his head tilts in confusion. "The blowjob?"

Eddie's brow jerks, but his answer is quick and sure. "Yeah," he replies, a corner of his lips curling in a small smile. "Yeah, it was good."

And had you known what would come next, you never would have asked. But you didn't know Eddie would follow up with a question of his own. 

You didn't know he'd noticed.

His head tilts again as he asks plainly, "Why did you fake your orgasm?"

The words strike like a physical blow, and the liquid rush of hot mortification is so overwhelming that your knees nearly buckle with it. Your cheeks heat, blushing bright in the shine of the streetlight, horror flooding your face as you stare at him. The shame of it— of Eddie not only knowing you'd pretended to cum, but voicing it like this— pricks at your eyes, stinging as they water.

Instantly, Eddie looks utterly stricken, eyes darting helplessly over your face. "Shit, I— I'm sorry—" He takes a step forward, brow crumpling, arms extending, fingers flexing as if he wants to grab onto something— you, the van door, his hair. Something. Anything. "Fuck— Look, just forget I said anything—" 

The sight of Eddie's distress just makes your own distress more acute; you stumble to explain. "No, I'm just…" your chin trembles as you attempt to tell the truth. "I'm just embarrassed."

He looks even more horrified. "Was it…." He trails off and swallows, voice hoarse. "D-Did I do something wrong—?" 

Your eyes widen. "No, no! You were great. I… I just felt, like…." You force the words out, hating how his face looks enough to voice them. "When they came over to, like, watch…." Admitting this is embarrassing, but you're already mortified, so the benefit of truth outweighs the sting. "I just felt kind of pressured, and it took me out of the moment." 

Eddie blinks, frowning less fiercely now, but he doesn't look entirely convinced. But you know by now that he’s kind, so you let that strengthen you. You admit, "I… I've never actually gotten there before from… from someone going down on me. So, it's not you." 

You want to make him feel better, but Eddie Munson is too perceptive; he searches your expression, reading something there. "I swear," he says slowly, cautiously, "I'm not trying to be a dick, but.. has he ever made you…?" He trails off, dark eyes free of judgment, sympathy in the tilt of his brow.

You blush deeply, averting your eyes. Eddie isn't being a dick, but the question is too intimate. Your truthful answer is too revealing. 

"Please," you whisper instead, voice trembling. "Just… please don't tell Steve about this." 

You can feel Eddie move closer, though your gaze is stuck to the giant t-shirt hanging from your frame, concealing your clothes beneath a swath of black and white. When he stops in front of you, body close but not touching, you take a bracing breath and finally drag your eyes to his face.

Those bright brown eyes are so big, and Eddie's touch is careful as he pulls you in, folding you in the cradle of his arms. The chill of the outdoors is soothed; hot embarrassment fades as you breathe in smoke and apples. You let him hold you, burying your nose in his collar, chasing that scent until he speaks relief. 

"It's okay, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

-

Not long after Eddie and Chrissy have left, your phone vibrates.

You're brushing your teeth, swathed in flannel pajamas, squinting in the bathroom light as you hear it, and when you swipe to unlock it, peering down at the text, you smile through foamy toothpaste.

'If you want to take over as frontwoman of Corroded Coffin, you're gonna need to nail your audition song.' Eddie has followed the text with a Spotify link.

You spit, rinsing it down as you plunk your toothbrush into its holder. "I'm taking out the trash real quick," you tell Steve, carrying your phone past the bed where he's reclining, scrolling on his own phone.

The apartment stairwell echoes with My Curse by Killswitch Engage; it trails after you all the way to the trash room. This is better than Lacuna Coil— it's driving but somehow still melodic, and that first howl is so guttural that it quivers behind your ribs. On the way back up, you pause at the third story landing as you open up your text messages and record the voice note, typing, 'You can send in your two weeks now.' 

At first, you feel silly. But when you listen back, your voice sounds full, echoing off the stairwell walls. And you haven't gone overboard; you've only sung about fifteen seconds, your favorite part of the song, enamored by the strength of the singer's baritone, the emotion in his vibrato: 'There is love burning to find you; will you wait for me?'

Before you can let the rising nervousness freeze you, you hit send.

By floor five, he's answered. 'Holy shit, sweetheart. If you can scream, I'll clear out my desk right now.'

You flush and giggle at the choice of words, the sound echoing loudly in the emptiness. At the threshold of your floor, you type back, 'I'll leave that to the professional, I think.' With that, you slip your phone into your pocket, pushing open the door.

When you return to the comfort of your bedroom, soft light illuminates Steve's hazel eyes as he glances up, a broad smile spreading on his lips. "Hey," he says softly, lips crooking higher as you slide under soft covers beside him.

"Hi!" You smile at him before plugging in your phone beside your bed.

"So," he begins, running a palm through his bangs, mussing them against his forehead. You straighten them fondly as he talks. "I was wondering. Was there anything Eddie did today that you really liked? Something that you'd like me to do?"

Steve's gaze is warm as he waits for your reply. You feel appreciation rise at his consideration, grateful that he'd be willing to change or adapt based on today's discoveries, the things you'd appreciated. 

But as you think about the things you'd appreciated most— Eddie's calloused hand squeezing yours, the rasp of his thumb against your lip, his murmured words: 'I won't tell anyone. I promise—'

You realize that you can't really explain it. That it's amorphous; that when you try to grasp it, it slips through your fingers, visible but not yet palpable.

Like smoke.

"No," you answer, "Nothing really." When Steve continues to gaze at you, you realize he may want you to reciprocate, so you oblige, face open and receptive. "Was there anything you liked that you might want me to do?"

Steve's brows raise optimistically. "Yeah, actually," he replies. "I kind of liked the dirty talk. I was thinking maybe we could do that more."

'Oh, yeah, fuck yeah, Steve, lick my cunt, finger-fuck me so fucking hard, shit —'

Chrissy's mewling voice echoes in your head, words she'd said mashing together until they loom large. Self-consciousness prickles as you imagine trying to imitate her, but Steve's kind face stares back at you, hopeful and encouraging. "Yeah," you say, lips tugging into a small smile. "Yeah, I can try that."

Soft, broad fingers weave through yours, and Steve lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back, hazel eyes gleaming. "Thanks, baby," he says. "I love you."

Your smile softens. "I love you, too."

That night, you dream of smoke and ink. Roots creep, deep and aching, burrowing further down into you.

#tkym #blueywrites #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson smut

[neonovember]

Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit

Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.  

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake,  and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

#james bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x female reader #mafia!steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x woc!reader #mob!steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!sam wilson #mafia!avengers #innocent!reader #neonovember #neo writes #mafia!steve rogers x woc!reader #mob!steve rogers x black!reader #tapttd #series #mafia!steve rogers series #mob!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob!steve rogers x innocent!reader #steve rogers x innocent!reader

[acethegaycard]

A New Look?

Alternative title: What I would give genshin guys to wear

Basically Reverse isekai but now you gotta make normal outfits for the characters so they don't stick out like a sore thumb. It can also be read as modern AU outfits if you prefer

Characters in order:

Heizou, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Wanderer, Kaeya, Venti, Ayato, Diluc, Kazuha

Honestly heizou would be an easy pick. Old fashioned British detective style. Sherlock Holmes, trench coats, shades of brown, all that jazz. Also, give him access to true crime podcasts, he'll never be bored again. 

I'd give xiao the ol' hot topic skater fit. Black, band tees, lots of rings and jewelry, fake pieces, ripped jeans, yeaa. It matches his personality too. Not with fashion but if you do get band t shirts tell him alot about said band just incase one of those "name five members or your not a true fan" people talk to him. 

Albedo gets the light academia scholar outfits. Kinda chill, collared shirts, lighter colors, shades of brown and blue. Some gold every once in a while. Loose fitting stuff. Flowy sleeves. Lots of rings. Maybe one or two gold necklaces that he wears every once in a while. The type of outfits you see those aesthetic college student wearing. Maybe a bit of cottagecore. Lots of white shirts. 

Zhongli would look like that one professor that everybody has a crush on tbh. Not as formal as what he wears in game but still, collared shirts, suits once in a while, always wears a tie, owns one dark brown trench coat that he wears everywhere at all costs. Lots of darker browns with gold accents here and there. Not a necklace kinda guy but wears a good amount of rings. Totally has reading glasses. Has alot of custom hair pins for some reason? Idk I just feel like he does. Has 100 pairs of dress shoes, and like one pair of black boots. Nothing else. Also If you give him his own closet it's so organized. Spotless, everything fits in the closet right, its honestly impressive. 

Wanderer would be alot like Xiao. Hot topic's no. 1 customer. He'd have more of a blue and purple color scheme than black though. Actually listens to all the bands he has shirts of. Big punk fan. Wears this one black beanie with a skull on it basically every day. His shoe game is good, like really good. Had alot of platform shoes so he can look taller. Lots of cropped shirts that looked ripped. No long sleeves, short sleeves and sleeveless tees. An absolute MASTER at makeup, specifically eyeliner. Lotsssss of turtlenecks. 

Ooohoho now Kaeya would be f u n to style. Has a more simple style. Those pinterest dudes?? Yeah, think of that. Plain colored shirts, turtlenecks alot, almost never sleeveless. Lots of long sleeves stuff.

Give him one of those black corsets that I always see, since he wears one on his original outfit. Wears necklaces, but doesnt layer them or anything. One simple necklace at a time. A TON of silver rings. Hes got those pinterest guy hands. Wears sheer black gloves. Has this one cropped blue jacket but it's more of a sweater and he always wears it when layering clothing. 

Hanging earrings are necessary for him. Has a belt with a snowflake design on it that he uses alot. Almost never wears sweaters. Wears blue, grey, and black almost religiously. 

Ahhh venti :) Think similar to albedos but more Victorian than college student vibes. Again, long sleeves, flowy, lotssss of ruffles, has a generous amount of green accents. Has this one emerald necklace that resembles a vision somewhat and he adores it. Never takes it off. Not a giant ring person, but has around a thousand hats. Paper boy hats in green, might own a bucket hat or two? Hes got the whole hat-universe. Always wear white socks that go just below his knees with EVERYTHING. Has multiple pairs and some are a bit more sheer than the others. Has a pair or two of white fingerless gloves to wear with long sleeves, and full, white and sheer gloves he wears when he isnt wearing long sleeves. White button ups are his life. Usually doesnt tuck said button ups in.   (Totally not a walking mitski reference) 

Ayato isnt THAT complex. And he's got similar style to Zhongli, but complety different color schemes. Wears suits often, and they follow a pattern. White shirt, black tie, light blue suit jacket. The icon of white pants, he basically never wears anything else. For smaller accessories they're usually dark blue or black in color. Not a ring person either, but wears one or two black rings occasionally. Has earrings but not dangly ones. Just black studs. Has alot of dark blue hair pins to keep his hair back. Theres no way his hair naturally just stays that way ok?? Every single boba place within 40 miles knows his name and face by memory. Wears the same looking black shoes all the time. 

Diluc is probably another trench coat kinda guy. Less suits, more trench coats for him. In the fancy looking suit and tie gang with Ayato and Zhongli. Usually wears black button ups instead of white ones, with a crimson red tie and a brown trench coat, or a white tie and a darker red coat. Totally not an accessories guy. No necklaces, earrings, and maybe just one single gold rings he wears once every century. Another black shoes only person. I feel like the coats he wear have some fur on them in places. Just a thought. Always carries around like 3 extra hair ties in his pocket just in case he need one. 

Kazuha is a comfy clothing icon. Not one for a thousand things on his outfits for aesthetic purposes, just wears what he likes and adds accessories if he feels like it.  And absolute king of the fall outfit aesthetic. Outfits usually consists of slightly baggy autumn colored shirts, always short sleeves. Sweatpants or just light colored/bleached cuffed jeans. (Yes I said CUFFED) And occasionally has a darker colored orange and red knit sweater over him. Probably has one or two necklaces on at a time. Always wears this one necklace with a gold chain and a maple leaf charm on it. A gold colored accessories person. Most of the rings he has are gold. Has his ears pierced and usually wears black or gold studs. Sonetimes he wears dangly earrings but nothing to crazy. Ties his hair back a lot less. 

(I wrote this on the train lmao)

#genhsin impact #genshin #genshin rambles #isekai #reverse isekai #sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #heizou #xiao #zhongli #ayato #diluc #venti #kazuha #albedo #heizou x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #diluc x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #albedo x reader #Sagau x reader #genshin modern au