#cozy Sunday vibes <3

[happyheidi]

#cozy Sunday vibes <3 #cottagecore #cats #animals #flowers #flowercore #warmcore #grandmacore #cake #cozycore #cosycore #cottage aesthetic #kitchen #kitchencore

[koijikido]

Sunday ~☀️ ☕️ Wishing everyone a cozy and chill day✨ Stay warm, recharge, do things that make you happy! 💜 Sending good vibes ~💫

#happy sunday #sunday funday? #sending good vibes #stay cozy #stay warm #:3

[giggly-squiggily]

hello good morning/afternoon/night fellow creator. im going around conducting quick random interviews bc i am feeling curious today

what be on your mind today? 🎤

please have a great one <3 (also dont feel obligated to answer if you dont feel like it <3)

Skribblz! It's good to hear from you :D A good morning/afternoon/night to you aswell!

Oh gosh, there's so many things on my mind as of late! Here's the highlights:

Luc from the Origin book series. I've been thinking about him a lot as of late.

Shoji's webbing/arms being ticklish- this is more an extension of a dabble series I'm thinking of making featuring Midoriya and his classmates.

Pumpkin spice drinks- Dunkin Donuts started selling them recently and I've been a happy camper since :D

Kirby. Just Kirby :3

Thank you for asking! Have an amazing day friend! Make sure to drink plenty of water/your favorite drink, take a break and do something you want to do today :) I'm sending you all my love!

#squiggily speaks #ask #skribblz #friend :3 #I'm feeling pretty good this Sunday #it's raining and I have coffee #I'm cozy and vibing :D

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back. 

[thatgirlie-diaries]

My weekly reset routine

Hello girlies! After some days offline I come back with this blog, I will be telling you quickly my every Sunday "Weekly reset routine" which is popular among girlies like us, isn't it? For me, this is the first day of my weeks and probably the most important one, since I get relaxed, taken care of and I reflect on what to focus next. I hope it inspires you in case that you don't have a routine like this, and if you do I hope that it's working well for you!

My routine

Tidy up and clean all my space: Includes the kicthen (that's my assigned section between my family), my bedroom and my bathroom. While cleaning downstairs I listen to a podcast and in my room I listen lo-fi playlist.

Begin the laundry: Every week I do my laundry, every two weeks I also add my bedsheets.

Do my full shower routine: I use shampoo, hair mask and conditioner. After, I use my cleanser and face exfoliant. To finish I use my soap, body exfoliant and shave my legs and armpits. I listen to new albums every time while showering.

Post-shower routine: I do the rest of my skincare routine, dry my hair, apply cream on my body, get comfy clothes and check my nail polish.

Tidy up my clothes

Plan and reflect: 1.How was last week? 2. I plan next week goals and tasks 3.Add calendar events 4. Revise my routines and schedule 5. Check my budget

Digital detox: Eliminate any unnecessary data on my laptop and cellphone, mostly.

My post-routine

Light a candle and listen to frequency music: I listen mostly to heal my feminine energy and positive vibes

Practice journaling: I look out for prompts or I express my feelings, I have a new journal book and I prefer now to do it by hand.

Say positive affirmations in the mirror: I get them from pinterest! I have cried twice by now, it has helped me with my inner dialoge, concept and steem.

Practice meditation and yoga: I normally practice between 20-30 minutes, for me is more than enough and actually helps me relax and maintain my mental health. I recommend you Jessica Richburg in Youtube.

Watch a movie: I really love to watch movies! So now every Sunday I make some popcorn and get cozy in my sofa to watch one. Right now I'm into chick films, they are really funny and inspire me alot.

See you girlies, time to enjoy my sunday! 𑄽𑄺ྀ

#dream girl #girljournal #hyper feminine #it girl #motivation #my diary #pink aesthetic #pink blog #that girl #clean girl #pink girl #pinterest girl #girlblogging #girly blog #just girly things #girly #girly tumblr #just girly thoughts #just girly posts #pink bows #soft pink #girly aesthetic #soft aesthetic #pink #dream life #glow up #pink pilates princess #wonyoungism #blogging #this is a girlblog

[sundays-sims]

S P R U C E . (early access, patreon)

Hello friends!

This month's set is finally here, and I am sorry about the delay. It has been a super busy month for me! I decided to stick with this cozy cottage core vibe & created 15 new pieces for the spruce set. It's a bit of a mix between a dining & sitting area, with natural fabrics, wood tones and floral patterns.

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

D O W N L O A D  L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)

S E T   D E T A I L S :

wood stove oven

armchair

ottoman

china cabinet in 2 versions (opened & closed doors)

paneling in 2 versions (with & without shelf)

dining table

dining chair

pendant light (3 heights)

floral wallpaper (14 swatches)

cottage floor tiles (2 types; 4 & 9 swatches)

Sundays xx

** spruce will be released (free) on March **

** WCIF: Windows are by Syboulette, rest of the content used is mine**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←

#ts4 #simblr #ts4cc #sims 4 cc #sims 4 interior #sims 4 #sims 4 inspo #sims 4 cc finds #sims4 #sims 4 cc download

[raventons]

H E M M A So this is as close as I've ever been to a fully functional build. This a family street house with two bedrooms (one for a toddler, one master) and two bathrooms. It is a very classic, cozy, Swedish, IKEA-like kind of vibe. It is pretty far from my comfort zone, but I think it is the best build I have made this year. Next, I think I will be making a small boho hotel. Also, as always extra credit to Novvvas. Sundays and Anye for being so amazingly talented and offering all this great inspiration. You should go download their stuff and support them on Patreon! You can download HEMMA here: X (free for everyone in 3 weeks). Please remember to download all of the CC to make the build look like in the pictures: SYB: X X Novvvas: X X X X X X X X Anye: X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X Sundays: X Wondymoon: X X Sanoysims: X X X X Lorysims: X Happy simming!

#sims #sims 4 cc #the sims #sims4 #sims cc #sims 4 #thesims #the sims 4 #sims 4 build #sims build

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Two

Playdate, back by popular demand babyyyyy! 😘😘😘. Thank you, my thirsty little mutuals for your love and support <3 Now let's go straight back to hell, shall we?

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7k

Chapter Summary: Three weeks after your initial meeting with Dave York you meet again. This time however, without your husband (at his own insistence). Marcus wants you to feel free and unencumbered by his presence to explore your wants, needs and fantasies with Dave and you reluctantly agree to it - just this once.

Notes: OK Marcus does take a bit of a back seat in this chapter but not to worry, he'll be back full force in the next!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Cuckolding. Wife sharing. Dave York's mouth needs its own warning (and to be washed out with soap). Dirty Talk. Degradation. Daddy Kink. Praise Kink. Soft!Dave York (enjoy it while it lasts, it won't be long). Dom!Dave York. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one lil bite). Frottage. Dave is spitting in your mouth again because it's Dave and that's his M.O.. Spanking (just a couple swats). Mention/brief discussion of anal sex. Breathplay. Unprotected P in V sex. Naked female/clothed male. Cockwarming. 'Cozy Boyfriend Vibes' Marcus also gets a warning because he'll make your heart grow three sizes. If I missed anything lmk!

Nervous anticipation thrums through your veins as Saturday evening is finally upon you. Marcus had texted Dave about a week ago regarding another “session” for the three of you and tonight was the settled upon date you’d all agreed on. It’s been three weeks since you last saw - and first met - Dave York. Your husband's business colleague turned… well, you weren’t sure what to call him now. Threesome partner, sort of? The man who, regardless of anything else, was surely responsible for the dramatic upturn yours and Marcus’ sex life had taken the last three weeks, that’s for certain. Ever since your single time with Dave, you and Marcus have been insatiable for each other. Not that you ever had much of a problem in that department to begin with, but recently you’ve dialed it up to eleven, not being able to keep off of each other.

You fucked in the shower, on the couch, the kitchen floor, and even one memorable Sunday morning with you sitting on top of the lid of the washing machine while it was running with Marcus standing between your legs drilling into you as your whole lower half shook and vibrated to the unrelenting rhythm of the spin cycle.

Still, as much as Marcus was keeping you satisfied (and he was) the thought of being with Dave again thrilled you. He was such a polar opposite to Marcus, whom you absolutely loved and adored, and you’re not saying that different is better. Different is just… different. Different excites you and opens up both yours and Marcus’ world to things that weren’t in it before and really, that was the goal of this whole thing to begin with.

You were so nervous at first while being with Dave with Marcus watching. As much as it excited you, you couldn’t help the little gnawing feeling in your gut that you could be hurting Marcus somehow or making him feel inadequate. He’d assured you enough that night that that wasn’t the case, but it was always playing at the back of your mind. The absolute last thing you want is to cause any kind of rift between you and Marcus. So when he had suggested a week later that you try it again you made sure to have several long discussions about it first to ensure that he really wanted this as much as you did because if he didn’t, you would be fine with cutting the whole thing off. Finally after a week of discussions you both agreed you wanted to involve Dave again and Marcus had started up a group text conversation between the three of you. So far it had just been Marcus and Dave texting back and forth a couple times, deciding on a date and that was it. You were nervous about sending any messages to Dave yourself, at least for now, so you let everything go through Marcus, though you were glad he tried to include you by inviting you to the conversation.

Tonight would be different though. So different from last time and as if you weren’t already nervous, now your anxiety is ten-fold after what Marcus had recently suggested to you. He told you that he thinks you should have one night just with Dave by yourselves. He could tell how into it you were last time but he felt that you were constantly holding back and feeling nervous about how he was feeling and he didn’t want that. He wanted you to be free to explore what you wanted to explore and then next time Marcus would be back in the mix and hopefully not only learn first hand what you liked, but get some tips and tricks from Dave along the way. You argued a bit with Marcus at first, telling him that wasn’t the deal and you wanted him part of it but he explained his side and assured you he would be okay with it and told you to take a couple days and really think it over and so this afternoon you had finally made your decision and decided to take him up on it. Just this once, you had insisted.

He hadn’t even told Dave about it yet because he wasn’t sure if you were going to agree to it or not until a couple of hours ago and now he was worried Dave might not even show up if Marcus changed the rules on him last minute so he decided to talk to Dave when he came over. If he wasn’t okay with it, then they’d go back to the original plan and Marcus would stay.

You drain your second glass of wine as your fingernails tap nervously on the counter until finally the doorbell rings and you and Marcus both turn to each other and share a glance.

“Right on time” Marcus shrugs, pushing back from his chair and heading to the front door. You decide to head straight upstairs and let them talk, because you don’t want to hear the conversation if it turns bad and Dave has no interest in you if Marcus isn’t directly benefiting from it, since that was the original arrangement.

A couple of minutes tick by and you sit nervously at the end of the bed until finally you hear footsteps approach and the door swings open, revealing both Marcus and Dave. You assume this means Marcus is staying and you’re not sure how to feel about it. Part of you is glad, you want him here, he makes you feel safe and comfortable (whereas Dave makes you feel literally the exact opposite) but part of you wonders how interested Dave really is in you and if this is all just a fun game to him that doesn’t really get him off unless he’s got Marcus here to cuckold.

“Honey I told him what we talked about… he’s okay with it” Marcus explains as he crosses the room to you and your shoulders settle as a breath escapes your lips. Suddenly you’re even more nervous then you thought you’d be.

“Sure you don’t wanna stay Pike? I’m having fun watching her squirm already” Dave muses, winking at you and you feel your cheeks flush. Maybe Marcus should stay.

“Hey,” Marcus gets your attention and he’s staring at you with a soft smile to calm your nerves. “I love you, ok? I’ll be down the street at the bar, gonna catch the game. Just… promise me you’ll have a good time” he says and you nod your head before you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. You hold on, continuing to kiss him because you need him to know before he leaves how much you love him, appreciate him, and how part of you doesn’t want him to go.

Eventually he slows your kisses down and lets out a little laugh as he pulls back. “Have fun, I want you to” he says before he leans in and places a kiss to your forehead and then turns to walk out the door, closing it behind him and sealing you and Dave inside alone.

You stand next to the bed and wring your hands together in nervous anticipation as Dave slinks forward, sly grin on his lips.

“Hey Baby” he greets casually as he steps in front of you, places his hands on your waist and gives you a good look up and down. You feel much less exposed this time at least. You’re wearing a knee length silk robe that’s tied around your waist, protecting some of your modesty.

Which was all for nothing, apparently, because seconds later before he even utters another word or allows you to greet him back, his one hand comes up and tugs one end of the sash holding your robe closed and it falls right open, revealing your skimpy little black laced bra and matching panties.

“H-Hi” you stammer out, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around yourself.

“Don’t” Dave says, surprisingly softly, his gaze locked on to your chest. You drop your hands to your side, still nervous as hell but it's an exciting kind of nervous as Dave brings a single finger up to trace the top edge of your bra over your left breast.

“Pretty” he murmurs before he gently pushes the robe from your shoulders and it pools on the floor at your feet. His hands go back to your waist and he leans down and captures your lips. The kiss is heated as he reacquaints himself with your mouth, your tongue, exploring every inch like he needs to commit it to memory and your body leans into his instinctively, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck as he moans into your mouth.

Whatever you were expecting tonight, it wasn’t this. He’s being… soft. His hands lightly smooth up and down your sides and across your back and before long his mouth leaves yours to kiss down your jaw and to your throat. You tilt your head to give him better access and whimper when he hits a particular spot on your throat and sucks before laving over it with his tongue and then moving on to kiss and lick and nip at every inch of exposed flesh until you’re practically trembling in his arms. Your hands clutch the short hairs at the back of his head as he anchors you in place, your knees feeling weak already as his mouth transcends a little lower to your collarbone and then the tops of your breasts.

“Ohhhh” you gasp softly when he mouths at your left nipple over top of the lace garment and his hand comes up to lightly pinch at the other and then he switches sides and repeats. “Fuck”

It feels strangely intimate, what’s happening right now. It's reminiscent of how you are with Marcus and that wasn’t supposed to be the point for being with Dave. You’re finding it really tough to complain, however, when his mouth is making every coherent thought escape your brain entirely. Finally he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to the floor and then he spends minutes on your breasts, paying each one equal attention with his mouth or his hands and all you can do is push your hands through his hair and whimper and moan with your head occasionally lolling backwards when it gets to be too much effort to hold it upright.

Dave is silent, which is odd enough in and of itself. The only sounds from his mouth are the soft licks and kisses and hums as he devours your tits and it's night and day to the Dave that was here a few weeks ago who was calling you names and barking orders at you.

Finally he begins descending lower still, trailing kisses down the middle of your stomach and lowering himself to his knees as he goes. Your hands go to hold onto his shoulders just as his mouth reaches the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you; those soft brown eyes that are jarringly familiar and yet so different from the man you are married to. Keeping his gaze locked on yours, his hands come to your hips and he slowly drags your panties down your legs until you’re left completely bare before him and your heart is hammering in your chest. The eye contact alone that he’s giving you is sending little ripples of pleasure down your spine and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Dave” his name leaves your lips in a whisper and suddenly his face is in your cunt. He spreads your lower lips with his fingers and his tongue licks a slow broad stripe straight up the center and your knees nearly buckle with the pleasure that shoots through you.

“Lay down” he instructs and you shuffle back the few inches to the side of the mattress and sit on the edge and lower yourself down on your back and Dave is back on you, lifting both your legs and draping one on either of his shoulders and his hands rest on your hips to hold you down as he’s kneeled on the floor in front of you.

“Oh fuck” you cry out when his mouth is back on you. His tongue circles your clit a few times until he sucks it into his mouth and your hips chase the pressure of his mouth, desperate for more. He releases your clit and then his tongue trails down the center again and begins prodding at your entrance with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Oh my god” you whine, hands flying down to clutch in his hair again and he moans loudly into you, sending little shockwaves through your pulsing cunt. One of his hands leaves your hip and his thumb comes down to put pressure on your clit, rubbing it in tight small circles while he continues fucking into you with his tongue and soon enough, you’re gone. You shoot up onto your elbows as you feel the dam burst and let out a choked sob as you cum hard and fast, hips bucking wildly into Dave’s face as he continues his assault, working you through it and not slowing down.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” you chant until you literally can’t take it anymore and your hands go to his head in an attempt to push him away and thankfully he takes the hint and his thumb lifts from your throbbing clit and his tongue switches to long slow licks through your folds, lapping up the sticky residue of your release.

“Mmmmm” he hums into you, seemingly content on licking up every last drop from you before he starts planting little kisses all over your sex, your mound, your thighs and finally he pushes up from his knees and leans over you to trail kisses up body until he reaches your mouth and kisses you soundly, just once. Just long enough for you to get a taste of yourself on his tongue and then he releases you and rests his forehead against yours.

“Hi” he smirks - he fucking smirks - at you.

“Hi… fuck!” you breathe out and Dave huffs out a little laugh before he pushes himself back up to a standing position and holds a hand out for you. You take his offered hand and he helps you up until you’re back in the position from earlier and his hands go to your hips again.

“What was that for?” You ask, genuinely curious and Dave shrugs.

“I knew you’d be nervous without Pike here, figured I’d help settle the nerves first. Feel nice and loose now, don’t ya baby?” He grins, jostling your hips back and forth slightly and you let out a little laugh.

“And now that we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way,” he begins, that menacing tone from the first night you met him suddenly back and you try to ignore the pleasant little tingle it sends down your spine. His mouth reaches your ear and he gently pulls the lobe between his teeth before releasing it and finishing his thought with a whisper into your ear “you can show your Daddy just how much you missed him, hmmm?”

You pull your lip between your teeth again as a small groan escapes your lips. Dave is tonguing at your ear canal and sucking the lobe into his mouth and your eyes close as a little whimper escapes you.

“Answer me” he growls, his hands gripping tightly at your hips, yanking you forward a couple of inches so your pelvis presses into his and you feel the unmistakable press of his desire against your hip from underneath his clothes.

“Yes Daddy” you nod enthusiastically and let your hand snake down between your bodies to cup him over his pants. “I’ll be so good for you” you add and he groans.

“On your fucking knees baby” he orders, a little breathless and you instantly comply, dropping to your knees in front of him and pressing your face into his crotch to kiss his length over his pants and he hums in approval, bringing a hand down to run through your hair. You kiss over his shaft a few more times before your hands come up to his belt buckle and you stop, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please can I have your cock in my mouth? Want it so bad” you tell him, putting on your best pout and his eyes close momentarily and he tosses his head back before finally refocusing on you.

“Yeah baby, take me out” he instructs and you waste no time opening his belt, yanking down the zipper and pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs so his cock bobs out right in front of your face. You’re about to press forward before you stop yourself and settle back to sit on your heels, tilt your head up to Dave and open your mouth wide and wait.

“Oh fuck” Dave curses, eyes closing again and you have to fight back the grin that wants to emerge at how damn proud of yourself you are.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl” Dave growls before he grips your jaw tightly in his hand and angles his head down to spit into your mouth. You give him a coy smile when the saliva hits your tongue and then lean forward and wrap your mouth around his cock and suck.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby” he praises you, hands gathering up your hair until he can hold it all back in one hand so he has a better view of you swallowing him down.

“You take my cock so fucking good baby girl” he continues and you hum around him, bobbing up and down and taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. He lets you go at your own pace for a good couple of minutes and then he begins pushing back with his hips until he’s fucking into your throat and you’re forced to just stay still and take what he gives you. He forces deeper and deeper with each thrust and every so often he’ll push all the way down your throat and hold you there until you gag and choke on him until he releases you and starts all over again.

“Goddamn fucking whore how you take this cock baby, hmmm? Fucking cockslut aren’t you?” He continues uttering pure filth and you simply hum affirmatively and nod your head into his groin as he continues to feed you his dick until your eyes water and your throat is raw.

Now this is the Dave York you remember. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as he towers over you, degrading you and taking exactly what he wants.

“Come here” he grunts suddenly and grabs you under your arms and hauls you back to your feet, his leaking dick sliding out from your mouth as you're dragged away from it.

He kisses you harshly and his hands come down to grope your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands and squeezing roughly before his grip loosens slightly into a massage instead and you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, turn around” he orders. His hands leave your ass to grab your shoulders and turn you so you’re facing the side of the bed and he pushes you down so you’re bent over lying on your stomach on the mattress with your feet still planted on the floor behind you and your turn your head to look back and watch Dave sink to his knees.

Your body jolts on the bed when a sharp slap from Dave’s right hand lands on your ass and then he’s soothing over the surely red mark.

“Look at this perfect fucking ass” Dave growls, both hands grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them before he lets go and swats at the left cheek and his mouth comes down to gently bite at the meat of your right.

“Oh!” you can’t help but moan, hips rocking into the edge of the mattress.

Dave gets back up again but bends over your body so his cock is at your ass and his mouth at your ear. “God I want to fuck this tight little asshole so bad” he confesses and drags his dick between your cheeks for emphasis.

“Oh fuck” you whimper and you don’t know if it’s fear or excitement. Maybe both. “Dave I…” you trail off. You’re not ready for that, in every possible way.

“I know baby” he hums into your ear. “Don’t worry I won’t” he promises and you release the breath you’d been holding, your muscles instantly relaxing from underneath him.

“I think… m-maybe I might want to, some time…” you stammer helplessly. You’re definitely interested, but you want to be prepared first.

“I know baby” Dave soothes, one hand sliding between you and the bed to massage a breast in his hand and the other goes around your front between your legs and begins to play with your clit and you begin whimpering again. “Daddy will buy you a toy next time, hmm? We’ll work on getting you ready until one day you’ll be begging me to fuck your tight little hole hmm?”

“Oh fuck, yes” you whine as the pads of his first two fingers draw agonizing little circles around your throbbing clit.

“You need me to play with this little pussy baby?” he taunts, gently pinching and rolling the taught little bundle of nerves between his fingertips.

“Mmmhmm” you nod frantically against the mattress but then he instantly stills his moments.

“What’s that now?”

“Yes, yes, please play with my pussy” you appease him immediately, knowing just what he was waiting for and you can feel him smirking against the side of your face.

“Turn over” he instructs and you do, then he climbs onto the bed and hauls you up further so you’re no longer half hanging off it. He’s propped up on his elbow on his side right next to and you watch as he sucks two fingers into his mouth and then brings that hand between your legs and starts rubbing in slow circles.

“Ohhhhhh fuck” you mewl, gently writhing and letting your legs fall open wider for him.

“Yeah that’s better, hmmm? That’s what you needed baby” Dave coos, his forehead resting against the side of your head. “Play with your pretty tits baby, let me see” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice, both your hands coming to grab the soft flesh and alternating between massaging the mounds and pinching and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

“Oh fuck” Dave moans and then leans over you to take the closest one into his mouth, sucking and licking over the sensitive bud. He pulls back again after a moment and refocuses his attention on his hand between your legs, his digits sliding down to prod at your entrance until he slips two inside and buries them to his knuckles.

“Jesus, this tight little fucking pussy” Dave growls, working his fingers in and out. “So fucking wet for me”

“Yes, oh feels so good” you whine, eyes closed as you slide slightly up and down against the mattress, rocking yourself into his hand.

“Look at you” Dave clicks his tongue. “Fucking yourself on my fingers, just can’t help yourself can you, little minx” he huffs. “You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Please” you let out in a breathy whisper.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, just as he curls his fingers at the perfect spot and you cry out as your next orgasm rapidly approaches.

“Oh fuck, please let me cum. Please Daddy”

“Good girl” Dave rewards before he shifts his position so he’s up on his knees between your legs and starts driving his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace. The wet slaps reverberate off the walls as his hand pounds into you, fingers sinking in and out of your sopping core and your hips chase the pressure of his thrusts.

“Oh my god!” you squeal as he hits a particular spot and your vision begins to blur.

“Oh we found it did we?” he grins, doubling his efforts to push harder and faster into you as his free hand comes up to press his thumb down on your clit and you instantly cum in a silent scream, your orgasm racking over your entire body until you collapse back into the mattress with a blissed out smile spread on your lips.

“God damnit, I need to fuck you” Dave growls suddenly and he’s all but manhandling you into a new position. He grabs you around the waist and flips you over until you're on your hands and knees and he pushes down between your shoulder blades so your head is down and your ass is up in the air. You turn your head the best you can and watch as he fists his cock a few times and then brings it between your folds to coat himself in your arousal. He’s sliding in and out of your slick lips, the tip of his cock bumping deliciously into your clit with every thrust and you slide forward slightly on the bed as the threat of another orgasm chases straight on the heels of the last one.

“Oh god, fuck” you whimper into the pillow.

“Fuck, feels good doesn’t it baby? You wanna fucking cum again don’t you?” He asks and you nod frantically.

“Please, I’m so close”

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you upright so your back is to his chest, both of you on your knees and he continues bucking his hips, sliding through your folds and you look down to see just the tip of his head occasionally peek through from between your legs as he rubs against your pussy with his hard length. His hands come to your hips next and he helps you drag yourself up and down and your own hands reach up and behind you to wrap around his neck and just hang on for dear life as he slams into your throbbing little bundle of nerves over and over again.

“Cum all over this cock baby, fucking soak me” he growls at your ear and it does you in. You tip over that edge again and your body falls forward down onto your elbows as a choked out sob escapes you.

“Oh my god” you huff, chest heaving and body shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up. Dave is still rocking into you and it’s way too fucking much on your oversensitive clit. You need him inside you or ten feet away from you, one or the other, you’re not sure, you just know you can’t take this particular brand of torture any longer.

“Dave, I - oh fuck”

“Beg for me” he seethes between clenched teeth as he tries desperately to hold himself together. “Beg for this fucking cock Sweetheart”

“Please!” You cry out instantly, not wasting a moment. “Need your fucking cock inside me, please. Please fuck me”

“Goddamn slut” he snarls before he thrusts forward and sheathes himself in your wet heat and you let out a guttural moan at the delicious stretch. One of his hands goes to your shoulder and the other has a bruising grip on your hip as he fucks into you fast and hard and you’re practically convulsing underneath him.

“Fuck baby, taking this cock so good, Jesus” he pants as he pounds into you from behind so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall and if you had any functioning brain cells left you’d be worried you were about to break the bed.

“Oh fuck you're gonna make me cum” he huffs, head tossed back and eyes squeezed shut as he drives into you so hard and fast you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head, your mouth open in a silent scream you're pretty sure only dogs can hear.

"God damn baby" he growls, his pace still relentless and you need him to finish. You know he's waiting for you to give him one more but as good as he's making you feel you don't think there's any possible way you have one more in you so you do your best to coax it out of him whatever way you can.

“Oh god, please cum for me Daddy, I want it so bad” you whine pathetically, hoping it will do him in, but then your moans turn into a loud gasp when you feel the hand that was at your shoulder wrap around your throat and squeeze the sides. It’s harder and longer than last time and before long there are dark spots at the corners of your vision the longer he holds. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore and you’re about to grab for him to tap out he releases you and blood rushes to your head and you lose focus on everything except the way your cunt clenches down on Dave’s cock as wave after wave of euphoria hits you.

“Oh fuck. That's my good girl. Fuck fuck fuck” Dave grunts and pulls out of you, fisting his cock over and over again until ropes of his warm seed begin to coat over your ass and lower back until he has nothing left to give and he turns over and collapses on his back in exhaustion.

You lower your hips back down to the bed so you’re flat on your stomach, still coming down from your own orgasm and both of you are heaving on the bed next to each other, trying to catch your breaths.

You finally start coming back to yourself and you turn your head over to the other side to look at Dave and a laugh suddenly escapes you.

“What?” Dave questions, clearly not in on whatever’s got you in stitches.

“You just fucked my brains out and didn’t even remove a stitch of clothing. You still have your fucking shoes on!”

Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss, but the whole notion is wildly amusing to you for some reason.

Dave looks down at himself as if he’s now just noticing you’re not wrong. His pants and underwear are around his thighs but other than that he’s fully clothed from head to toe and now he lets out a laugh before rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Fuck me” he groans, exasperated.

“Not again, give a girl a break” you joke and he rolls his eyes playfully before he swats at your ass.

“Smartass” he grumbles before he lifts his hips and pulls his pants up and then rolls off the bed and heads to the bathroom. You hear the faucet running for a minute and know you need to get up yourself and clean off but you literally don’t know if you can move after whatever the hell that was that Dave just put you through. You lost count of the orgasms.

To your surprise however, Dave comes back (fully dressed again with his appendage back inside his now refastened pants) with a washcloth in his hand and walks up to your side of the bed and holds it out to you.

You thank him shyly and are glad when he turns away from you to give you some privacy. You’re not sure how on earth you can possibly still get embarrassed in front of this man after the things he’s said and done to you and you to him, but you do. If Marcus were here he’d clean you up himself, soft strokes of the warm cloth between your legs and you’d watch him with a dopey smile on your face at how sweet he is to you and pull him in for a kiss when he was done.

And speaking of Marcus you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand next to you and you reach for it to read the incoming text. You see that it’s actually from Dave in your group chat and you glance up to see him with his back to you, phone clutched in his hand.

“What’s the score? I had the 9’ers to cover” it reads and you roll your eyes and huff a little laugh. You guess that’s a better way of saying ‘hey, all done here fucking your wife into another dimension if you wanna come home now’

Three little bubbles appear as Marcus is typing a reply and you feel a little flutter in your tummy, a smile involuntarily crossing your lips.

“Sorry buddy, hope your kids college funds weren’t riding on that game”

Kids? Interesting. You’re suddenly realizing you don’t actually know anything about this man. No wedding ring though so you assume he’s divorced at least.

You click back to your messages page and pull up your direct line to Marcus without Dave in it and type a simple message.

“Come home ❤️”

He replies instantly.

“On my way”

You get up from the bed and grab for your discarded robe from the floor from earlier, tying it around yourself and head off to the bathroom to pee. When you come back out Dave is still standing there and you realize now you have no idea how you’re supposed to say goodbye to him. The nerves and awkwardness suddenly flooding you again.

“Well, um… thanks, for tonight” you say, wringing your hands together and he offers you a comforting smile.

“My pleasure baby, c’mere” he says and reaches a hand out to grab yours and tug you towards him. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t turn it into more, just wants to put you at ease and it does.

“Don’t be a stranger now” he winks at you and you reward him with a soft smile.

“I won’t” you promise, giving his hand a small squeeze.

“I can see myself out” he tells you before releasing your hand and he walks off out the bedroom door as you call out a soft ‘goodnight’ to the back of his retreating head.

As you hear his heavy footsteps down the stairs a flash comes across your bedroom window and you realize it’s Marcus’ headlights as he pulls up the drive and you wander over to the window and glance outside. Just as Marcus is getting out of the car Dave is walking down towards his own sleek black sedan that’s parked at the curb and the two men stop when they meet. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you watch as Dave reaches a hand out and Marcus grabs it and they shake while Dave’s other hand lands on Marcus’ shoulder and gives it a firm pat and they release each other. They stand there for another minute or so chatting, about what, you have no idea, until finally Dave lifts a hand in a goodbye and turns down the driveway and continues towards his car.

You turn back and flip off the lamp that was lighting the room and crawl into the bed, ridding yourself of your robe again and tossing it over a nearby chair before pulling the covers over you.

“Hey Baby” you hear Marcus call out softly a minute later when he enters the bedroom.

“Hi” you sigh dreamily, happy to hear his voice, happy to have him home.

He wastes no time stripping down and crawling into his own side of the bed and shuffling over to you. The moment he’s next to you you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, burying your face in his neck and wrapping your limbs around him like a spider monkey with separation anxiety.

“Hey, you ok?” Marcus asks, hugging you tightly to his chest for a moment before pulling his head back to get a look at you. His hand comes to rest on your cheek and forces your gaze to his.

“Yeah I’m ok” you promise. “Just missed you”

“I missed you too” he sighs before leaning in and kissing your forehead. He pulls back after a second and stifles a laugh.

“What?” You ask, brow furrowed.

“You smell like Dave” he laughs, wrinkling his nose and you roll your eyes but are laughing as well.

“I’m not surprised, he literally left his clothes on the whole time” you tell him, shaking your head at the memory. You’re so used to Marcus who would probably never have either of you wearing clothes when you were alone inside the house if it were up to him.

“Really?” Marcus asks, features scrunched up in disbelief and you nod your head.

“What a weirdo” he teases and you laugh.

“He’s your friend” you counter.

“Our friend” Marcus corrects you and you hum.

You suppose he’s right.

“So… what was it like?” Marcus inquires further and you contemplate for probably a moment too long on how you should answer.

Mind blowing.

Incredible.

But not the same because it wasn’t you.

“It’s ok baby, I want this too, remember?” He prods further, waiting for your answer.

“It was um… a lot?” You laugh. “Like literally I’m going to need a break for a day or two”

“God damnit York” Marcus huffs but there’s no real anger there, you can hear the playfulness in his tone. “Put my wife’s vagina on a timeout” he grumbles under his breath and suddenly you’re erupting with laughter just as Marcus breaks out into a huge grin and joins you.

“Baby I love you so fucking much” you confess after the giggling finally subsides.

“I love you too. So much” Marcus replies easily, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling back to smile sweetly at you.

“Do you… wanna take a bath with me?” You ask. You know you have the smell of sex and Dave York literally all over you and you assume Marcus doesn’t love that but to your surprise he just snuggles you a little tighter and hums into your hair.

“I don’t mind. I uh… kinda like you like this” he admits and despite the darkened state of the room you know he’s blushing. You also know he’s not lying either when he pushes his hips just slightly and you feel exactly how much he likes it pressing against your thigh. Marcus is kinkier than you give him credit for. And the secureness he has in your relationship and his own masculinity is so incredibly sexy you wish you had even an ounce of the energy you'd need to let him know how good he makes you feel as well.

“Baby” you let out a little whine. You want so badly to be with him but you physically don’t think you can do it. You don’t have another orgasm in you, you just don’t. And it’s not fair to Marcus for you to just lie there like a cold fish either when he wants to make love to you.

“I know” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’m, I thought, maybe…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed and that has your attention.

“What? Tell me baby”

“Well do you um, remember last time with Dave? What he said about like… keeping it warm?” He begins and your tummy flutters at the memory. You absolutely remember.

“Yeah, the cockwarming thing?”

“Yeah” Marcus shrugs. “M-maybe we could try that? Only if you want to!” He adds hurriedly and you smile.

“Baby, if you’d let me fall asleep with your cock inside me, I’d literally marry you all over again” you tell him and his face lights up like a kid on Christmas just given their first puppy.

“Fuck, really?”

“Mmm hmmm” you nod, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. “I wanna feel close to you” you confess.

And you do want to. You’d never even thought of doing this before because typically if he was inside you it was because you both wanted or needed to get off but now seems like the perfect time. For you at least. You hope it’s going to be enjoyable for Marcus and not pure torture if he’s too worked up and can’t do anything about it.

“Are you sure though? That’s going to be ok for you?”

“Turn around on your side” Marcus tells you rather than answering and you do so he can spoon up behind you like your usual sleeping position together. He sits up and reaches over you and pulls open the bedside drawer and grabs the small bottle of lube that you keep in there. He squeezes a few droplets into his hand and tosses the bottle back before you feel him behind you getting himself ready and then he’s sliding between your thighs, warm and hard. You’re grateful at how considerate he’s being, your sweet Marcus.

“I’ve got you honey” he whispers into your cheek as he slowly drags himself between your folds a couple of times to coat you in the slick from the lube so you’re more comfortable and then gently pushes inside, both of you groaning when he’s buried to the hilt. He reaches just a touch deeper than Dave and feels so good inside you like your bodies were simply meant to fit together.

“God I fucking missed you” he breathes into your shoulder before planting a kiss to it.

“Missed you too Marcus, so much”. There’s tears at the corners of your eyes threatening to spill. You love this man more than anything and all he wants is to make you happy and it makes your heart soar. You feel so close to him with him nestled inside you, you feel like you could stay like this forever and you’d die happy.

“Go to sleep baby” he hums and then wraps his arm around you to hold you tighter against him.

The slow and steady throb of his cock inside you is like a heartbeat and lulls you to sleep in minutes, pulling you into a dreamless and restful slumber for the rest of the night until morning comes and you make sure to show Marcus exactly how much you appreciate him.

Chapter three

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads

#dave york fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york x reader #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #dave york #dave york x you #dave york smut #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal

[munson-blurbs]

Thoughts on how eddie would react to the reader (his girlfriend) buying new underwear/lingerie and showing it off to him whike she changes into comfy clothes for the evening? Bc my boyfriend apparently didn't even look long enough to differentiate between two very clearly very different pairs and I need Eddie to have a better reaction🥲

Combining this with a req from @kellysimagines:

How about reader and Eddie dont wanna go out to celebrate their 3 year anniversary so they spend it at his trailer and the reader suprises Eddie only wearing thigh high leather boots and only that and Eddie is surprised and they have sex?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, c*m eating, thigh riding, praise

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The model in the picture is just there to provide a visual of the boots, and does not necessarily represent how Reader looks. Eddie would worship any of your bodies 💚 also, shoutout to @big-ope-vibes for convincing me to post this tonight in an attempt to defeat the Sunday scaries and to @pastel-pillows for helping me write sub!Eddie.

--

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” Eddie’s voice calls out. His nose is pink from the chill in the air. Indiana winters are brutal, and this one is no exception. “And I brought Chinese for dinner!”

“I’m in the bedroom,” you call back. “Got you a little surprise.”

Eddie’s brows pinch together in confusion. “I thought we said no gifts,” he whines, placing the bag of takeout on a snack table. It’s your third anniversary, and you’re trying to save up for a house. The trailer Eddie bought from his uncle Wayne after the older man moved to Florida was cozy, but it wasn’t where you wanted to grow old together.

You giggle mischievously, further piquing his interest. “Just come over here, handsome!” You hear him stomp through the living room; he isn’t angry, just walks with a heavy foot. It makes it nearly impossible for him to sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to say, “guess who?”

“Baby, you’re making me look bad–holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie’s jaw basically hits the floor as he takes in the sight of you before him. You’re kneeling on the bed, wearing nothing but a sheer pink bra, a tiny matching g-string, and black thigh-high boots. “When did you–how did you–can I just touch you? Please?”

It seems bizarre, Eddie asking you for permission. He’s usually the dominant one, making you beg for an iota of pleasure. You’re taken aback for a moment before replying, “of course.”

His hands immediately fall to the swell of your breasts, thumbs easily finding your nipples through the gauzy material. “Don’t even know where to start,” he mumbles. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Tell me what to do, Sweetheart. Please. I’ll do anything you say.” 

“Touch me, Eds. Need…need you to touch me.”

“Tell me where, baby,” he begs. “You’re in charge tonight. Want you to use me.”

The idea of bossing Eddie around is so foreign to you, and it takes you a beat before you can figure out exactly what you want. Your whole body buzzes with need. “Let me ride your thigh,” you murmur, “and while I do that, you’re gonna suck on my tits.”

Eddie nods, lifting you onto the bed and placing you on his lap. He starts to unhook your bra, but you shove his hands away.

“Did I say you could do that?” you snap, feeling more confident in your dominance.

Eddie gives you a confused look. “N-No,” he stammers, “but you said–”

“I said to suck on my tits. You can get me fully naked once you make me come. Got it?” When he just nods again, you tilt his chin upwards towards you. “Good boys use their words, Eddie.”

“S-Sorry.”

You sigh impatiently. “Don’t apologize; just tell me you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I won't get you naked until you come.” He swallows thickly, leaning in and bringing his lips to your clothed nipples. One hand rests on the middle of your back, but he stops before using the other one to cup your ass. “Can I please touch your ass?”

You kiss him, biting his lower lip as you pull back. “Since you asked so nicely.” He whimpers lightly, grabbing the soft flesh in his strong palms. For a brief moment, he looks like he wants to spank you–which he typically does–but quickly remembers his new role. His mouth returns to your tits, lapping and sucking on them hungrily. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, grinding down on his upper leg. ‘Keep your hands right here; that’s my good boy. Don’t let them move or I might not let you come.” 

“Won’t move,” he promises meekly, “take whatever you need. ‘M your fucktoy to use.”

You suck a harsh bruise into the nape of his neck, licking over it once you finish. “And what a sweet little fucktoy you are, hm? All mine, and ‘m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” You tug his shirt above his head and leave a trail of hickeys across his chest. Already started to feel pent up and overstimulated, Eddie instinctively begins bouncing his leg up and down. “Stay still,” you order him, ‘hold me and stay fucking still. Fucktoys don’t move.”

“Could I, um…could I kiss your neck?” Eddie asks, and you can’t help but note the slight whine in his tone. “Please, baby? ‘S my favorite spot…” He pouts as you shake your head.

“Tell you what,” you reason, still grinding your needy cunt on his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s leaving a damp patch on the denim, turning both of you on even more. “If you let me come, I’ll let you kiss my neck.” The friction is driving you wild, and you dig your fingernails into his bare back. “Fuck, Eddie. ‘S like your body was made to get me off.” 

You watch as his hand instinctively snakes down towards his erection, palming at it pathetically. A tiny whine escapes his lips as you pull it away and push him back onto the bed. “Trying to cheat the system?” you taunt him, rummaging through the dresser drawer until you find what you’re looking for. “Sit over there,” you motion towards the chair tucked under your vanity, “and put your hands behind you.” Eddie does as he’s told, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. The shiny silver handcuffs glint as you snap them around his wrists. “This is what happens when you can’t follow directions.”

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” he gulps, but you’ve already devised a new way to torture him. Slipping off your panties and unclasping your bra, you let both fall to the floor. You’re left only in the thigh-high boots. “Wan’ touch,” he mumbles, knowing that the effort is fruitless. Instead, he watches as you get down on your knees, pulling at his belt buckle and unfastening his button and fly. When you take his cock out of his boxers, he lets out an audible sigh of relief. He thinks I’m gonna blow him, you realize, a suspicion that’s only confirmed when he says, “Yes, baby, please.”

You tut disapprovingly as you make your way back to the drawer, purposely bending over a bit more than is necessary to give him a better view of your ass. Grinning, you slide a cockring down his shaft and press the tiny plastic power button. Eddie yelps out as the toy begins vibrating around the base of his length.

“Now,” you say, bringing yourself back to your position on his thigh, “I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you to.” He’s too overstimulated to respond, so you take his face in your hand and turn it so he’s looking into your eyes. “I said, good boys use their words.”

“Okay, yes, shit, I w-won’t come.”

You rub your clit against his naked thigh, faster until you feel your orgasm about to hit. His upper leg is covered in your slick, and you throw back your head in utter pleasure as you finish. “Such a good fucktoy, letting me come all over him. You’re so fucking good to me, Eddie.”

The praise combined with the vibrations and your own orgasm is too much for him to handle, and he groans out a loud string of curses. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his cock, pooling in the thatch of curls at the base. “Shit, ‘m so sorry–I didn’t mean to–”

But you just kiss him, roughly and deeply, effectively shutting him up. “That was really hot,” you murmur into his ear, before dropping to your knees again. This time, you use your tongue to clean him up, swallowing every last drop. “And delicious.”

Eddie writhes against the chair, and you let him out of the restraints. “Baby, any time you wanna be in charge, just…just fuckin’ do it, holy shit.” He pauses before adding, “and wear those boots, too.”

“Okay,” you say, shooting him a salacious grin, “how does ten minutes sound?”

--

#requests #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[moodywyrm]

abby looks so comfy i jus want to fall asleep on her shoulder or smth during a meeting n then wake up, tucked in bed and snuggling with her, taking a mid-afternoon snooze ☹️ is that too much to ask

she is so cozy!! I feel like abby, specifically college basketball abby, isn't much of a nap girlie on her own, because she always feels like she's wasting daylight? but then she meets you and you're dragging her into naps at like noon on a Sunday and genuinely, it's like heaven. she loves waking up with her girl in the hazy afternoon light, warm and fuzzy and still a little sleepy, you curled up at her side. there's nothing better!!

her favorite is when you fall asleep on her lap while she's reading on her armchair, the baby blue vintage armchair you two thrifted. she'll be sitting there, reading my brilliant friend or jane eyre or just kids or severance, with the coffee you made her on the table. you're sleepy from all the tasks you got done that morning, so abby let you crawl into her lap and you almost immediately passed out on her shoulder. it's so sweet and domestic and it's her favorite Sunday tradition <3

also what do we think abby would read? because im feeling a mix of classics, contemporary, lots of like ,,, Patti smith and Joan Didion? if you get my vibe? and fantasy, of course <3

#anon #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader fluff #college basketball abby x chubby reader

[erwinsvow]

what would shy!reader’s room look like?

hi!!! tysm for asking <3 i know @princessbrunette did a post for deer readers room and i honestly see a lot of shy reader / myself in deer reader so this vibe is a little similiar to that !

for her bedroom i see something like this !! lots of quilts and blankets, i feel like she spends a lot of time in her room so it's her haven and really cozy. to me her vibe gives grandma's cottage

but i picture big windows and a comfy bed she can lie in all day if rafe doesn't specifically come get her or give her a reason to get up. she probably has a kitten or a sleepy older dog who will curl up right next to her while she reads in bed.

shes a kook and im projecting because i love those little window seating areas so maybe one of those where she can read and look out the window !! lots and lots of books! this bookshelf situation reminds me of my own room though hers is probably overflowing with her parents and rafe bankrolling. cute vanity situation for getting ready! i think she has an eye for collecting vintage things

collage wall moment !! shy reader is the type who can't ever get rid of birthday cards, notes people scribbled to her, gift tags with 'to and from' in pretty handwriting, postcards and ticket stubs. a lot of is stored in a memory box but i bet with rafe's stuff she starts a little wall like this ! he probably stares at it when he visits and feels dizzy at the emotions

trinket dishes ! scattered all throughout, filled with anything and everything. she'll be trying to get ready and running around trying to figure out where the watch rafe got her is and there's a million dishes to look through. hes like 'we're gonna be late do u even know what time it is?' she's like no i can't find my watch !

finally records ! the photo on the left is the exact set up for my record player. as we know they are expensive jawns but rafe def bankrolls her addiction to buying pretty colored lana releases. her ideal sunday is listening to music and reading in bed while curled up next to rafe. shes a simple girl

hope this wasn't too obnoxiously long ! i loved making this. staring around my room realizing i just projected my entire room + personality onto her. sorry girl

#eee this was so fun ! #i feel like every time i write abt shy reader i forget i literally based her off of me.. then im like wow we are so similar! #as opposed to kook trio reader i think shes a lot more 'clean girl' aesthetic / style like scandy/beachy #tysm for asking angel i adore you ! #📮 asks #shy reader

[happyheidi]

adelightsomelife , lenavolkova

#cottagecore #so cozy!! #Sunday vibes at its best <3 #cozycore #cosycore #cottage aesthetic #grandmacore #food #foodcore

[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.

chapter two: the lion's roar (11k) | 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 #3-#5. all songs are mentioned by name except for Chrissy's song, which is Tinashe's 'No Drama.'

And I’m a goddamn fool, but then again, so are you

And the lion’s roar, the lion’s roar

Has me seeking out and searching for you

And I never really knew what to do

The Lion’s Roar — First Aid Kit

It's a typical Thursday evening in late February. Dusk light filters through the gauzy curtains covering the one wide window behind the big couch, the window that always casts a glare on the television when you and Steve try to watch Netflix together on lazy Sunday mornings. You have a candle burning on the coffee table, and vanilla and rose now envelop your apartment, filling each corner and cranny with cozy lushness. The couch awaits, ready for you to pour a glass of white wine before folding yourself into its plush comfort to enjoy the peace at the end of your work day.

It's a typical Thursday evening in late February, but it isn't, really. It isn't typical at all.

Steve had been nearly ecstatic when you told him the morning after your double date that you were willing to try swinging with Chrissy and Eddie, and the process had moved along quickly from there. Just as the initial discussion of the topic had felt almost like a dream, it was utterly surreal when you'd all sat down for coffee together, tucked into the corner of a coffee shop, talking over what the arrangement would look like as other cafe patrons ordered their lattes and worked their remote jobs while eating scones. The naughtiness of discussing the details of your plan to swing together in public had been strangely thrilling after the initial surreality wore off. Maybe that's part of the reason people do it, you'd realized, feeling a little like you were back in school, conspiring with your friends during study hall about how you would sneak out of your parents' house and drink in the woods together that night. Except, now, you weren't figuring out the logistics of stealing liquor from your dad's cabinet. You were laying out expectations for when and how you would fuck each other.

The rules were stipulated as follows. First, you'd only engage in sexual acts when you were all together since the arrangement wasn't for you to have open relationships— it was for mutual play that everyone could enjoy. Second, the guys would only finish inside their own girlfriends for the practical reason that, in the event of birth control failure, they wouldn't accidentally impregnate someone they weren't in a relationship with. You'd been on the pill for years, and Chrissy has an IUD, so the risk is minimal, but the group consensus was that the precaution was reasonable and sensible. You'd all also been willing to get tested for STIs simply for peace of mind.

So the rules were agreed to, and tests were taken; and when everyone had received a clean bill of sexual health, you'd all chosen a typical Thursday evening in late February to begin your first foray into this new world of sexual debauchery.

Now, Steve watches you from the bedroom's threshold, fists on hips as your hands flutter over the pillows on the loveseat, fluffing them back into shape before dropping them with hasty plops against the cushions. You spin, eyes darting over the interior of your apartment, searching restlessly for anything that may still be out of place. But you've already tidied up the kitchen island, migrated your haphazard stacks of books back onto their proper shelves, bought the grapes and the crackers and the artisan cheese, and buried your Nintendo Switch back into the decorative ottoman that conceals it from company. Steve had been in charge of drinks, and he'd set the hard liquor out on the Formica counter like a college kid's makeshift bar. You'd also let him choose the Spotify playlist because having to make yet another decision in your current state might actually put you over the edge. Plus, you doubt that your typical musical selection would set the proper mood for the evening. 

Most people don't wanna listen to mournful folk when they're trying to get it on with their boyfriend's friend. In front of their boyfriend. While their boyfriend is getting it on with his friend's girlfriend.

Steve's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, and you realize that you've been squeezing the crap out of one of the pillows. "Honey, you've gotta relax," he coaxes, voice kind but tinged with exasperation. "Show the pillow some mercy."

You drop it back onto the big couch with a remorseful grimace, smoothing it out with little brushes of your fingertips before turning and facing your boyfriend. "Are you sure I look okay?" you ask, searching his face for any hint of judgment as his eyes do yet another cursory scan of your body.

You'd chosen the outfit carefully, tearing apart your closet and reassembling it before Steve had returned home from work, none the wiser to the way you'd agonized over the decision. You'd wanted something that looked nice but not too dressy; something comfortable but flattering; something that said, 'I am totally at ease with myself and this situation, and I'm ready to have some fun!' You'd settled on a pair of tight high-waisted jeans that are slimming and make your ass look good, and though you're feeling a little exposed at the way your stomach is on display, you'd paired the jeans with your favorite cropped baby tee that flatters your breasts. You'd decided to forego jewelry aside from some dainty earrings and finished off with light makeup: blush to give yourself a healthy glow, mascara, and some tinted lip balm. You'd decided against gloss since, well. Thinking about why gloss wouldn't be advisable fills you with a potent mixture of nerves and, you can't lie, a tiny flutter of anticipation.

When Steve finishes his brief assessment of your outfit, you don't find any judgment on his face, though he does look slightly pained as he reassures you again. "You look fine, babe. You look good." He sighs, scratching at his eyebrow. "You've really gotta relax, though. You're kinda stressing me out."

You pout, lower lip poking out as your eyes go soft. "Sorry," you say, and Steve pulls you in for a hug, solid arms cradling you close. You bury your nose in his crewneck, breathing salty citrus cologne as he rubs your back until you relax against him. 

"It's okay," he says, muffled against your hair before he drops a kiss on the side of your head. He steps back so he can look at you but still holds your elbows, lips stretching in a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be fine. You don't have to be nervous."

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly through your nose. "Okay," you say, expressing agreement even though someone telling you that you don't have to be nervous has never actually served to make you less nervous in your entire life. Still, you flash a quick smile at Steve, pulling out of his light grip. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."

"'Kay," he says, sinking down onto the couch and disturbing the arrangement of pillows you've just fluffed as you shuffle off into the powder room. 

You close the door behind you, the smooth R&B playing over your Bluetooth speakers more muted behind the wood. It's peaceful in this room, small and compact, and you take another bracing breath as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look good, you remind yourself, running fingers through your hair. This isn't like going to a party in college and wondering if the guy across the room thinks you're pretty. Eddie already said he finds you attractive. There's really nothing to be nervous about. And, truthfully, you don't know why you're so uneasy about this, aside from the fact that it just seems… illicit. Like something you aren't supposed to be doing. 

But does that really matter when we’ve all agreed it's something we want to do? Who cares what anyone else would think?

You huff an impatient breath at yourself, a little fed up with your constant overthinking and worrying as you sit down to pee. As you do, your new panties, the lacy blue ones that match the bra you'd bought for the occasion, seem to stare at you from the cradle of your dark jeans. You're suddenly confronted with the fact that Chrissy and Eddie and Steve could all be seeing you in them soon, that Eddie might be peeling them down your thighs before the night is over. And the sight of them makes the situation so real that the haze of nervous unease in your chest expands, creeping farther until it freezes in your lungs.

You wash your hands quickly, avoiding your reflection in the mirror this time. And then, as you emerge from the bathroom, you hear a knock at the front door.

Your heart skips and thuds as Steve pushes up from the couch, and you only have a brief moment to decide whether you should join him or hang back. You choose to join him, and you both end up standing side-by-side in front of the door like a pair of reverse missionaries as he pulls it open, revealing Eddie and Chrissy.

There's a chorus of voices as you see the other couple: Steve's "Hey!", bright and casual; "What's up, man," Eddie's smoky timbre answer; and Chrissy's eager "Hi!", chirped as she reaches for you before you can even offer your own greeting.

You're enveloped by thin arms and soft, slouchy sweater as Chrissy embraces you tightly, stepping in front of Eddie, who waits in the doorway. "Your place is so cute, you guys!" She says over your shoulder, and you smile through your thank you as you gently pull back. 

She hugs Steve next, and while she does, your eyes flick over Eddie— over the gray sweatshirt under his denim vest, over the tight black of his signature ripped jeans, over the thumb slung casually in his pocket, knuckles ruddy over chunky rings. His dark curls are pulled into a lazy bun at the nape of his neck, shorter pieces brushing his jaw. His whole visage tonight is more relaxed than when you'd seen him on stage and afterward— absent leather and chains but still edged with that characteristic intensity evident in his dark boots, pierced ears, and the tattoos peeking from his pushed-up sleeves. 

As Chrissy lets Steve go, the guys pull each other into a one-armed hug, hands clapping a bit too hard on each others' backs as men are wont to do. It allows you to gaze at Eddie's face— soft nose, deep brown eyes, long lashes, sharp jaw, and full pink lips, which are pulled into an amiable grin as he meets Steve's gaze and their arms drop.

It's nearly a revelation, the fact that you're allowed to admit it to yourself: Eddie looks really fucking good. And as you acknowledge it, you feel your cheeks heat with what you're sure is a visible blush. It only makes your previous nerves flutter harder, moth wings kicking wildly in your stomach even as squirmy nervousness roils in your chest. 

And you haven't even acknowledged each other yet. 

Oblivious or mercifully without comment regarding the sudden color in your cheeks, Chrissy slides by you, blue eyes bright as she takes in your decorating. Steve follows her further inside, and absently, you hear him offer her something to drink.

As Eddie steps through the doorway, he finally meets your gaze, dark eyes just as piercing as you remember them— too piercing to keep from glancing away almost by reflex, though you bring them back to him after only a brief departure. You realize then that you should probably say something. 

"Hi." The greeting comes out soft and shy, but he doesn't seem to mind; a corner of his lips pulls into a crooked smile as he hears it, one that you find utterly charming. 

"Hi." He echoes you, though he's not at all shy as he edges forward into your space. And it would be weird not to hug him when Chrissy hugged you and Steve, wouldn't it? 

So you do— you lift on the balls of your feet, painted toes digging into the carpet as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your face ends up pressed against the hood of his sweatshirt, his hair tickling the edge of your cheekbone, and as your favorite cropped baby tee rides up with your reach, Eddie's warm forearms wrap around the small of your back. You feel the brush of his fingers against your bare sides; they're calloused, roughened, you suppose, by manual labor and dedicated nights pouring out on stage like the first time you'd seen him. And as the rasp of his touch drags against your skin, your breath catches on smoke and musk and apples, fluttering nerves intensifying so quickly that you have to withdraw, lest you become entirely overwhelmed.

In truth, the hug had lasted maybe three seconds. Still, you feel it linger even after Steve has completed his role as dutiful host: provided drinks for your company, passed a glass of wine into your hands, and sat next to you on the loveseat, arm around your waist but body angled towards your guests. You're perched on the edge of the cushion, legs crossed at the ankles, grateful for the wine and Steve's grounding presence beside you, but it isn't enough to entirely ease the freeze inside your chest, that haze of nervous pressure that's still tight behind your sternum.

"So—" Steve breaks the silence, tone relaxed and conversational but with a hint of a smile. "Have you heard from Henderson yet?"

You watch as Eddie shakes his head fondly, leaning elbows on knees, tumbler filled with amber liquor dangling loosely from his fingers. "Kid's gonna be the death of me, Steve. I swear."

Steve smirks without malice, leaning back as he eyes his friend knowingly. "I take it he tried roping you in, too, then?"

Chrissy's nose wrinkles as she looks back and forth between the two. "What's Dustin trying to rope you into?" she asks, and Steve motions loosely for Eddie to explain, taking a casual swig from his glass as Eddie starts to talk.

It's not a subject of conversation you can add much value to— of course, Steve has mentioned Dustin Henderson often, and you've met him a couple of times now, but you don't share the familiarity the rest of the group seems to have with him. Your eyes dart back and forth as the conversation bounces from person to person, but after a while, you settle into your silence, content for the moment just to observe, offering an occasional laugh or head nod at the appropriate moments as you drink your wine.

As the conversation shifts to new topics, dry sips of wine tart on your tongue, it strikes you suddenly: Eddie's foreignness, his strangeness to you. He looks so out of place among your fluffed pillows in a way that Chrissy does not, even though he's leaning back against your couch and spreading his legs like he's been here before, taking up space in your home. He's so conspicuous, dark jeans and hair sucking in all the light in the room until you can't look away. And as you watch him talk, his black and his white are clear to see. Eddie is rough and jagged as he speaks with his hands, sharp with barking laughter, quirked brows, and wide, manic grins. But the dimple of his cheek, the kiss of his bangs against his forehead, the brown of his eyes— they're nothing but soft, belying something gentle inside, something that can't be concealed beneath all his layers of leather and chains, of smoke and ink. You can see it, that gentleness, but you don't know it. It's not familiar. He's not familiar.

And when, in the midst of a theatrical recounting of some event from the past week, Eddie's gaze flits to yours— attention all focused on you like the light he's sucked from the room is shining in those dark eyes— you feel that tug again, deep in your belly, and it flutters the smoke. 

It makes you nervous.

As your unease refuses to subside, the taste of the others' light laughter turns ashen in your mouth, and you're no longer able to sit still— you need to move, to do something to distract yourself from it. Remembering your snacks— your grapes, crackers, and cheese— you pull from Steve's light grip, rising from the loveseat and carrying your wine glass with you. The music grows louder as you approach the speaker on the island, covering the sound of their continued conversation in the living room and bringing some relief as you recede into the safety of the kitchen. You tip your head back and gulp the rest of the dry wine, ignoring how the tartness makes your lips pucker, focusing instead on the warmth as the alcohol settles in your stomach, thawing the edge off that nervousness on the way down. 

Clinking your empty glass onto the counter, you bend to grab a platter from one of the lower cabinets near the fridge, nearly startling when a low voice speaks from above you.

"Need some help?"

You glance up to see Eddie towering a short distance away, narrow hip leaning against your kitchen island, hand shoved casually in the pocket of his dark jeans. You straighten up with the platter, sliding it onto the island between you, eyes darting from his face to the cabinets behind you. "I'm just getting snacks ready," you explain quickly, reaching high for the box of crackers on the second shelf of an overhead cabinet, fingertips just skimming the cardboard. Your cheeks heat as you wag your fingers faster, tension growing with the awareness that Eddie is watching you fumble, tiny desperate nudges just pushing the box further from your grasp.

"Well, let me help you," Eddie replies, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he moves closer. You sigh, a quick sharp exhale of resignation as you stop reaching, holding carefully still as you feel him move closer behind you, heart thumping with renewed nerves at his approach. But what you're half–afraid of— that this is some covert attempt to make a move on you, to press his body up against the length of yours— doesn't come to pass. Instead, Eddie keeps a respectful distance, ringed hand plucking the box easily from the crowd of its brethren in your cabinet, stepping back from you as soon as he does. You turn to see him placing the box next to the platter, throwing a quick glance at you as he asks, "Want these on here?"

You blink as the rise of your nerves settles back to its baseline, swallowing to wet your mouth. "Yeah," you reply, voice blessedly even. "I have cheese," you mention, implying that he should leave some room for it as you open the fridge, reaching into the crisper drawer. "And some grapes."

"Cool," you hear him say, and it strikes you as a somewhat odd response coming from someone who is, in your estimation, actually cool. The concept that this hot frontman of a rock band would actually find your adult-ish party snacks cool is nearly enough to make you giggle with bemusement, leaving you wondering until you hear a rush of crackers tinking against ceramic behind you.

Turning back around, you see that Eddie has upended the box of crackers and dumped it entirely onto the platter. Your bemusement turns to incredulity as you eye him, dropping the cheese and grapes a little too heavily onto the counter beside him. He takes in your expression, eyes darting from your face to the platter as you stare at him. "What?" He asks, seeming genuinely baffled as to why you're looking at him like that. "Did you not want them on there?"

"No, I did," you say carefully, slowly, fighting against the amused smile twitching on your lips as his wide eyes blink at you. "Just maybe not that many crackers." He looks back at the platter again, and you add, "and maybe not in a pile. More, like, in rows…"

"...Got it," Eddie says, and you can't help the light snort that escapes as he scoops the crackers up messily into his hands, funneling them back into the box as you take out a knife to slice the cheese into thin rectangles. When he notices you laughing, you think he might say something, but Eddie stays quiet, though a corner of his lips curls in a little self-deprecating grin as he reduces the load of crackers to a reasonable volume.

You both work quietly on your tasks, the sound of R&B flowing between you in place of exchanging words. You slice the cheese diligently, though you also sneak little glances as Eddie arranges the crackers into a semblance of order on the platter, brown eyes squinty, the tip of his tongue peeking just slightly between his lips as he tries to keep his touch delicate. A sudden bright laugh cuts through the music, and you look back into the living room to see that Steve has migrated from the loveseat to the big couch beside Chrissy, sipping his drink as she throws her head back, delighted at something he's said. Her beauty strikes you— strawberry-blonde waves cascading to her collarbone, sweater slouching casually to reveal one creamy shoulder, plush sweatpants like velvet as she tucks one leg beneath her. She leans comfortably against the back of the couch, covering her mouth daintily with one manicured hand as she continues to laugh. It seems effortless, the way Chrissy carries herself, the way she dresses— like she's never had to tear her closet apart, agonizing over what she's going to wear a moment in her life.

Chrissy's blue eyes seem to sparkle as she leans forward, talking enthusiastically with your boyfriend as she rests a hand lightly on his wrist. And you don't feel jealous because you'd known what this night was going to become; it's not surprising that she'd be touching Steve like that. But you do feel that icy haze of unease spread in your chest again as you watch them. Because that tiny, insistent voice in the back of your mind, the one that never entirely leaves you, starts to catalog all the ways you differ from her. 

"Hey." Eddie's voice is quiet beside you, and you suck in a quick breath, eyes darting to see him looking at you, hands now motionless and hanging at his sides. And that gentleness you'd seen in him from across the living room— it's there in his dark eyes again, in the concerned tilt to his mouth, the little wrinkle in his brow. "You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to."

His words are like that rush of dry wine as it slid down your throat, making the ice start to drip and melt. There's no judgment in his expression, no sense of disappointment you can detect in the set of his features. And, in fact, Eddie looks so sincere and serious that your eyes don't dart away from his gaze. 

It’s then that you become aware of how near your bodies are to each other. You find it strange to be standing so close to a man you don't already know, like each hair on your arms is standing on end with the awareness of his foreignness. But he doesn't try to touch you, and he doesn't move away, either. Eddie just lets you look at him. It feels like permission, his patient stare, so you take him up on his offer. You allow your eyes to run over his face. 

This close, that uncanny feeling from before is even stronger— the sense that Eddie's features are unfamiliar. So you start to learn them: the shadow on his upper lip, the little lines in the corners of his brown eyes, a silvery scar on his chin like he'd split it open before. You wonder how that happened. Your eyes drift down from his face to the pale column of his throat, and there's some razor burn on the side of his adam's apple. 

During your examination of him, Eddie has regarded you calmly, waiting for your response without pressing for it. That ice melts further, trickling down to stir the smoke in your belly, to drip into that buried place inside. 

Eddie smells like musk, like tobacco, weed, and delicate apples, and this time, you let yourself breathe him in, using that breath to ground you. When you're ready, you don't speak to his chest or throat. You meet those dark eyes, letting them tug at you as you tell him the truth, voice soft but sure. "I'm nervous. But I do want to." 

And then you smile at him, moth wings quivering in your belly as he smiles back.

-

Eddie offers to carry the loaded platter into the living room for you, but you kindly decline. Still, you use the opportunity to express your gratitude before you rejoin the others.

"Thank you," you say, eyes holding his without darting away. A faint blush rises as his cheek dimples with a kind smile.

"No problem," he replies, and you think— you hope— he knows it's not just for helping with the party snacks.

You place the platter on the coffee table, sitting on the couch next to Steve as he reaches immediately for a slice of cheese, popping it into his mouth. His hazel eyes are bright with the fizz of alcohol and enjoyment of company, and you grin at him, pinching his cheeks and pecking him on the lips before he's even swallowed. He smiles back at you closed-mouthed, fingers finding your knee and giving it a fond squeeze as you lean forward to catch Chrissy's eye.

"I never got to ask you how your test went the other week," you say, warming at the way she perks knowing you'd remembered. "Did you get your grade back yet?"

"Yeah!" she replies, lips stretching with a smile, all soft and powdery and pleased. "I was so nervous going in, but Steve really helped so much. I ended up with a B!"

You brighten with the news. "That's great!" You reach for a grape, cold skin smooth and round between your fingers as you ask, "Are you taking any other classes right now?"

Chrissy leans towards you as she starts to explain the classes she's taking, and you slant closer to Steve to hear her from across his lap, eyes trained on baby blues.

"Steve—" Eddie isn't trying to interject, voice low and quiet as he leans back behind Chrissy to catch your boyfriend's eye. Your gaze flits to him briefly before returning to her, long enough to see him jerk his chin to indicate Steve should come with him. The couch shifts as they get up, and you slide closer to Chrissy, crossing your legs as you lean back against the couch. She mirrors you, eager to continue your discussion. Her sweetness rivals the fruit bursting on your tongue as she asks you about your work; you explain a little about your job, where you've been working as a medical assistant at a small pediatric doctor's office for the last two years. Chrissy gets excited then, asking you if you have any cute— or crazy— patient stories, and you both swap little anecdotes about the Karens you've encountered in each of your health service roles (generally the parents and not the kids, in your case).

Soon though, the guys' absence becomes conspicuous; as you glance around for them, you joke, "What do you think the men are conspiring about?"

Chrissy huffs a cute little snort through her nose, slanting you with a look tinged with knowing wryness. "Probably planning out how to get us out of our clothes the fastest," she replies, lips curving in a little sardonic grin not directed at you but meant to be shared with you. 

You smile back, trying to be casual and match her energy, but the reminder of where this night is supposed to head has those nerves freezing in your chest again. You resist a squirm as the guys finally emerge from the bedroom, and knowing where they'd gone doesn't help quell the uneasiness that's beginning to spread again. But Eddie diverts from the couch to head into the kitchen like he's on a mission, and when Steve sinks down on the other side of you, you see that, curiously, he's holding a deck of playing cards.

Steve leans forward, dropping the cards onto the coffee table and hefting up the platter, moving it to the side table instead. He blows out your candle, and as you see that his intention is to clear space, you assist, setting the potted plant and the round decorative tray with its contents underneath the coffee table and out of the way.

"Where're your plastic cups, Steve?" Eddie calls from the kitchen, hands reaching for cabinet doors that bounce back slightly ajar as he moves from one to the next.

"Over the sink!" Steve's voice is a little loud in your ear as he ducks closer to you prematurely, looking like he wants to tell you something. You turn your head towards him, chin tilting down as you look into his hazel eyes, close enough to see all the flecks of green, brown, and amber that make them up. "Eddie told me you're still nervous," he says, voice barely a murmur as he looks at you reassuringly. "It's okay; we're gonna take things slow."

Your eyes melt as you smile, gratefulness blossoming to replace the freeze, and you press a little thankful kiss to the corner of Steve's lips. He seems pleased at your reaction, arm draping over your shoulders and pulling you close against his side as he opens the pack of cards one-handed, reluctant to let you go and make his job easier. You take it from him, starting to tug out the cards, but your hands pause as you see Eddie coming from the kitchen, carrying five plastic cups bunched together in his broad hands. His tongue tip is peeking from his lips again as he walks slowly and carefully, dark eyes trained on the bundle in his hands as you watch him approach.

The knowledge of what he'd done— that Eddie had taken Steve aside to tell him that you were nervous, that he thought you needed things slow— settles inside you like the smoke his husky singing voice conjures, billowing full and rich and heady, now more substantial than before. You can feel it fill you as he reaches the couch; his dark pants, dark hair, and dark eyes are still sucking the light from the room into him, though now it doesn't blind you— it warms you instead. 

Eddie looks a little unstable as he tries to set the cups down, and your hands dart out to catch them in case they fall. But he successfully maneuvers them to the coffee table, pulling one away towards the center as you each take the rest of them.

"What are we doing?" Chrissy asks, peering down into her cup, brows scrunched skeptically as she eyes the drink inside. 

The wicked grin on Eddie's face doesn't seem to make Chrissy feel better whatsoever as he replies, "Playing King's Cup and getting really fuckin' drunk, Chris."

-

Despite Eddie's somewhat ominous introduction to the drinking game, you don't actually get really fucking drunk. Still, by the time you've finished your cup, you're feeling loose and warm and melty as you laugh, cheering Steve on with the others as he chugs back the concoction in the King's Cup to end the game. You're all squished onto the big couch, bodies snug, so it jostles you when he shakes his head with a grimace; he pulls the cup from his lips, shoulders shuddering as his brown waves tremble with the motion. "Eddie, that was absolutely vile," he says, shooting a sour look across you and Chrissy as you lean against her shoulder, arms threaded together comfortably in a display of alcohol-aided familiarity. "What did you put in it?"

"Ah," Eddie draws the sound out, hands motioning wishy-washy in the air, eyes a little hazy now. "Little of this, little of that, you know." 

Steve merely humphs, lips smacking as if to try to dispel the aftertaste. "Alright, new game," he says, eyeing you all with a mischievous crook to his brow as he slumps back, widened legs nudging into yours and pushing you further into Chrissy. He waves his hands in front of him as if presenting a new idea in front of the boss. "I call it… 'Strip or Dare.'"

Chrissy snorts, giggling a little excessively as you humor him. "What's 'Strip or Dare,' Steve?"

Steve leans forward, feigning seriousness as he answers, "Simple, honey. It's like truth or dare, except instead of telling the truth, if you choose strip, you have to take off your clothes."

Your eyebrows raise as you nod slowly, eyes wide as you huff a tiny incredulous chuckle. "So, do a dare or get naked, Steve? Is that what you're saying?" You can't deny that now, pressed between two warm bodies and with your head swimming pleasantly from the alcohol, the idea does cause a slight flutter to burst in your belly. But it also seems like too much all at once— the idea of baring yourself entirely to everyone right now.

Maybe I'm just not drunk enough.

"No, no," Steve clarifies, head bobbing back and forth as he shakes it. "Just take off, like, one article of clothing. A major article," he clarifies, leaning forward in emphasis. "Not, like, your socks or something."

You nod again, glancing at Chrissy and Eddie to assess their reactions. Chrissy grins, eyes eager as she says, "Ooh, sounds fun!" Eddie nods, too, dark eyes flitting to yours for just a moment as he shifts against the couch, nestling in as his knees widen, getting comfortable and taking up more space at the same time.

"Okay," you say, looking back at Steve. "Who's going first?"

Steve's eyes dance around the group before landing on his friend. "Strip or dare?"

Eddie huffs, rubbing his palms along the tops of his thighs, lips twisting against a grin as he pretends to think. "Hm. I dunno, Steve," he says lightly, "think I'm gonna have to strip."

You grin widely as Chrissy cups her hands around her mouth, joining in her whoops and little playful 'ow ow ow's as Eddie pushes up from the couch, walking around the coffee table with an exaggerated swagger. He's really playing it up, biting his lower lip as he rubs his hands together, and his intentional goofiness makes mirth and delight entirely consume any last remnants of your nerves.

"Hold on," Steve says as Eddie grabs the edges of his vest, pulling them out; his shoulders sway impatiently as Steve pulls out his phone, holding out a hand as if trying to ward off the performance. "One second." He taps at the screen, and suddenly the smooth pop playing over your speakers cuts out, replaced by a heavily-processed vocal bass and the tik-tik-hiss of synthesized drums.

Steve's playing 'Pony' by Ginuwine.

"Oh my God—" You and Chrissy dissolve into giggles as Eddie barks a surprised but amused laugh, head thrown back and dark eyes glittering as his smirk goes manic. He pulls the elastic from his hair, shaking his curls like a dog as you let out a hybrid woo-laugh to voice your support, knees drawn to your chest as you and Chrissy curl into each other. He peels the vest slowly from his shoulders, tossing it onto the loveseat, hands dropping teasingly to the hem of his sweatshirt. Eddie flashes just a hint of pale skin and dark hair beneath his navel, smirk widening as his eyes meet yours. You can't help yourself— you hide behind your hand, face flushing bright pink at the playful wolfishness in his stare as your giggles intensify, edged with hysteria. You peek through your fingers to watch him as he reveals more skin little by little, hips swaying jerkily to the beat— attempting to, at least.

For a frontman in a band, Eddie doesn't seem to have much rhythm off the stage. Still, though his motions aren't smooth, you find yourself relishing the reveal of each pale inch of skin, each line and curve of dark ink as they emerge for you to run your eyes over in a silent caress. Of course, you'd seen the whole picture when he was on stage, but from your distance, the tattoos had run together into a continuous tapestry that wrapped his arms and torso, one indiscernible from the next. Your eyes devour them now, picking out pieces as they emerge— a skull, a pair of snakes, a cluster of bats, what looks like it may be a broadsword, a demon, scrawls of text and other little filler pieces that you can't make out, plus one tattoo that disappears beneath the waistline of his jeans. You can't quite tell what it is. 

Unfortunately, your eager appraisal is interrupted when, as Eddie has decided to peel his sweatshirt and white t-shirt off together and tug from the center of his back once they are halfway up his chest, his head and arms get stuck. 

You lower your hand, feeling a smidge of concern as he wiggles and writhes, hips halting their movements so he can focus all his attention on extricating himself from the tangle of his clothing. You hear Chrissy huff beside you as he finally manages to free his head, face emerging pink from effort as it squeezes through the neck-hole of his sweatshirt, his hair scraped back until he yanks the material from the length of his curls to let it plop to the ground. Unphased, Eddie grins, holding his hands out theatrically as if to display himself to his audience of three.

"Sexy, babe," Chrissy deadpans, voice wry with fond exasperation. Though you know she's just lightly ragging on him, you can't share in her exasperation. You're struck by the wild beauty of Eddie's hair as he shakes it back into place, body all black and white again like it was on stage— and now, the cut of his shoulders, the latent strength of his biceps, the tendons of his forearms, the dusting of hair on his chest, the lean curve of his waist, covered by a healthy layer of fat— the sight of it flutters in your belly, stirring up that smoke. You know your smile and your eyes betray your thoughts, but the alcohol is fuzzing in your limbs, the couch is comfortable behind your back, and Steve and Chrissy's bodies are warm beside you, lending silent support. And when Eddie's dark eyes meet yours, his grin widening as he sees you looking, the tension of the contact feels a little delicious.

"All right," Eddie says, and when his eyes release you, you aren't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. "Who's next?"

You look around at the others as Eddie flops back into his spot beside Chrissy, not quite willing to offer yourself up. "Chris?" Steve suggests, and Chrissy leans forward, shooting a teasing look at each of you. "Well, I think I'll follow Mr. Rockstar's lead," she says, voice pitched slightly lower than usual. "I choose strip, too."

Eddie grins up at her as she stands, sauntering over with a sensual sway of her hips to the same spot he'd occupied moments before. "Can I get a better track?" Chrissy requests, and Steve purses his lips, looking through his phone again. 

"How about this 'Strip Club Anthems' playlist?" He suggests earnestly, and you can't help but giggle at the absurdity of his puppy-dogishness coupled with the nature of his suggestion. 

"That's just perfect, Steve," Eddie says, voice tinged with warm amusement and just the slightest edge of sarcasm. "Go for it."

Steve doesn't seem to notice, eyes locked on Chrissy's form as the song begins. You watch her, too, realizing quickly that Chrissy has decided to take a different approach from Eddie, eyes bedroom-heavy as she twists her body, running one manicured hand sensually up the soft velvet of her sweatpants. 

She really knows what she's doing.

It's clear that Chrissy feels entirely at ease with stripping in front of Steve and Eddie as she teases her audience with a glimpse of her bra strap before concealing it again, flashing little glimpses of her skin meant to tantalize before she gives them the main course, slowly removing her oversized sweater, folding it almost primly with a saccharine smile bordering on foxy as she drops it to the coffee table. The black lace bra she wears underneath is more aggressive than you were expecting, but you can't deny that she looks beautiful, strawberry-blonde hair curling over the thin, dark straps. Her abdomen is trim and athletic, her skin nearly flawless, and though the size of her breasts is modest, you can tell they're shapely in the cut of her lingerie.

"Enjoy the show?" she asks, voice still pitched a little huskier than usual, and you quickly show your support with 'woo's and 'yeah's, enthusiastic for her as the guys also make noises of appreciation. Because it's not Chrissy's fault that that little whispering voice won't silence itself in your head. She's only ever been friendly and sweet and supportive in the short time you've known her, and you aren't going to make her feel bad just because you can't help but compare yourself.

Chrissy sinks back into the cushions, looking at you with blue eyes shiny from her buzz and that megawatt smile she always hands out without restraint. "Your turn," she sing-songs, and you bite your lip, shyly stuffing your hands between your thighs. 

Maybe you would've chosen strip if you'd gone after Eddie, but trying to follow Chrissy? Discomfort races through your belly as you picture trying to measure up to her performance and you discard the idea almost instantly. "Dare," you say, letting a smile curve at your lips as you say it like you're making a bold choice instead of making the only choice you feel you have.

Steve speaks almost instantly, and you turn to him to see his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Babe, I dare you to let Eddie take a body shot off you."

You blink, face pinking immediately, but you try to keep your voice even as you retort, "Doesn't that mean I'd have to take my shirt off?"

"Yup." Your boyfriend looks entirely unrepentant in the face of your wry expression. 

"So isn't that, like, basically the same as choosing strip?"

"You're the one who chose dare, honey," Steve reminds you, smirking as you shoot him a look. But you're not going to back down now, not after both Eddie and Chrissy completed their challenges without complaint. Plus, you'd known you would likely be removing some of your clothes before this night had begun, which was why you'd purchased your new lingerie in the first place. 

"Okay," you say, getting up from the couch to face Steve. "Where?" 

He jerks his chin toward the rectangular table that serves as both your kitchen and dining table. "Lay out on that. Eddie, what do you want for your shot?"

You look at Eddie then, face pinking further as you see him already staring up at you, dark eyes intense as Chrissy answers for him. "He likes tequila." 

Eddie slants a glance at his girlfriend, dark brow crooking. "Are you trying to get me fucked up?"

She smiles sweetly, drawling, "Maybe…"

You hear Eddie huff good-naturedly as you shuffle past the coffee table, making room for everyone to get up from the couch and migrate into the dining area. You hop up onto your dining table, swinging your feet with little half-nervous, half-excited kicks as Steve pulls a shot glass from the cabinet, filling it to the top with amber tequila. 

You feel a little awkward that Chrissy and Eddie are standing nearby, overtly aware of their gazes as they wait for you to remove your shirt. But as Steve approaches with the shot, you know it's now or never. So you peel your cropped tee off, dropping it beside you as you lay down quickly, hands resting lightly beneath the band of your lacy light blue bra. As almost an afterthought, you unbutton your high-waisted jeans, keeping your eyes on your fingers as you tug the zipper down halfway, parting the fabric to reveal your belly button and provide more space to work with.

"Cute bra!" Chrissy says perkily, and you twitch your lips into a smile as you thank her, voice only a little breathless. 

"No salt, Steve? No lime? What is this?" You hear Eddie's warm, teasing voice over the R&B beat as he moves closer to the table, stopping near your left elbow. Steve stops at your other side, and you look up at him first, eyes darting from the shot glass in his hands to his face, registering the quirked brow as he grins at his friend.

"I can get you salt, but I don't have any limes. You're gonna need to suck it up, man." Steve passes the shot into your fingers as you try not to blush again at his choice of words. You keep your hand as steady as possible as you lower the shot to your abdomen, resting the cold, smooth glass on the skin above your belly button. You keep your fingers lightly wrapped around the glass, the liquid inside wavering but not breaking surface tension as you look up at Eddie expectantly, legs hanging near Chrissy's knees, sides flanked by both men.

Eddie's eyes are bright and wide, a corner of his lips tugged into a little crooked smile as he looks down at your body, and you feel that flutter again at the way his eyes drag over the expanse of your skin on display. "You don't need to hold it, sweetheart," he says cockily, smile tightening to a smirk. "I've got it."

Your eyes widen, but you obey, fingers withdrawing, hovering nearby as Eddie bends at the waist, beginning to lean over you. You hold your breath in anticipation of his nearness, eyes locked on dark obsidian as he watches you while his face draws closer to your skin. 

What you hadn't anticipated, however, is how his loose hair would brush against your skin, the light touch of his curls dragging along your side as he leans all the way down to reach the shot glass.

Two things happen at once.

Though the brush of Eddie's hair is sensual, it is incredibly ticklish against the soft skin of your belly and side, and you feel your abdomen contract as you jerk with the sensation. At the same time, Eddie's lips make contact with the shot glass sooner than he'd expected because of your movement. So you both fumble the glass, tequila trickling into your belly button as you start to laugh; you feel Eddie's hot breath huffing against your skin as he chuckles at the same time that he tries to take the shot, hand grasping for the edge of the table as he half-sputters on the burn of the alcohol. The sound he makes just makes you laugh harder, knees pulling up as he drops his head, shot glass tipping sideways beside his nose as it presses lightly into your stomach.

It's so fucking awkward that it's actually really fucking funny, and you can feel him laughing as your gasps turn more hysterical. "I'm sorry," you wheeze through your laughter, and he pulls his head up then, grinning at you through his own shaking laughter. "I-I ruined your shot," you say, still chuckling as he shakes his head, chin dragging warm against your skin.

"I gotta— hold on—" Eddie chuckles, dark eyes twinkling, full lips pink and pulled into a charming grin that dimples his cheek as he grabs the shot glass, placing it to the side out of his way. "I gotta finish it."

You don't have any time to react before Eddie's mouth is on your skin, lips closing around your belly button as he noisily tries to suck up the alcohol collected there. Your whole body contracts with the force of your laugh, spine raised off the table and legs bent, head thrown back as you peal with unrestrained laughter, nearly embarrassing in its vehemence. 

But Eddie is also laughing hard, shoulders shaking as he husks goofy chuckles against your skin. Your hand lands on the back of his head, lightly holding on to his curls as you laugh against each other, only calming as Steve says, voice warm with fond amusement, "You guys are a total mess." 

"Yup," you say, still giggling, hand leaving the back of Eddie's head to swipe the moisture from beneath your eye. The skin where he'd been resting feels cold once Eddie lifts his head, backing up a step so he can throw his arms wide and bow theatrically. You clap for him, Chrissy and Steve joining in after a moment as Eddie straightens up, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

"And that's how you take a shot," he says, grin wide and manic while you all shake your heads at him fondly.

You rezip and button your pants before sitting up, head swimming slightly with the sudden motion. Still, it can't detract from the buoyant lightness you feel as you hop down from the table, leading the group back to the couch. You realize as you reach it that you'd left your shirt back at the dining table, but you find you don't really care; in fact, you like the way Steve and Eddie watch you as you fall back into the cushions, breasts bouncing slightly in the confines of your bra. Chrissy settles back beside you, wavy hair brushing your bare shoulder as she looks up at Eddie and Steve, who promptly pulls his sweater over his head, brown waves tousled more than normal as he tosses it onto the couch to join Eddie's discarded vest. 

As they stand beside each other, now both shirtless, it's obvious that Eddie is smaller than Steve— less broad-shouldered, a little leaner compared to Steve's firm mass. Steve's chest hair is considerably thicker, too, though somehow, that doesn't make him look more masculine. You think they're both distinctly masculine, though in different ways: whereas Steve is all sturdy solidity, Eddie is lithe, all predatory sharpness. And you realize, also, that you're incredibly attracted to both of them.

As everyone stares at him, Steve looks around at the group, saying blandly, "I didn't wanna be the only one wearing a shirt."

You huff a chuckle through your nose, pointing out, "Well, you could've just chosen strip, then."

Steve grins, running his fingers through his hair, bangs falling over one eye in that perfectly messy way you love so much. "I was gonna choose dare."

Beside you, you feel Chrissy straighten up, and you glance over to see her blue eyes locked on your boyfriend. "Well then," she says, pink lips curved like a shiny bow on top of a present. "I dare you to kiss me, Steve."

With the statement, the energy in the room shifts— the playful atmosphere melts into something more loaded, sticker and thicker as Steve's eyes flick to you. And you know what he's silently asking; you know that this is when everything will officially tilt past that invisible line of demarcation. The line that marks the point of no return— the point where, though it doesn't mean that you are obligated to do this again, you know you can never go back to having left that line uncrossed.

You meet your boyfriend's eyes, and slightly, almost imperceptibly, you nod your permission.

Steve shifts forward then, movements slow and measured, and that dream-like quality from your first conversation returns as you shift over on the couch, making room for him next to Chrissy. He settles down between you, sinking back into the cushions, and your body tilts toward him with the shifting of his weight as he leans towards Chrissy, her blue eyes soft and just a little hazy from the alcohol, like you know yours and Steve's and Eddie's are. You tuck your hands between your thighs, eyes wide as you watch Steve cup her cheek with a gentle hand that you can almost feel on your own face, the gesture so familiar; your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation of what is coming. Steve continues in, and in, and in, closing the gap as Chrissy's hand lightly touches his chest. 

And then you watch as their lips meet.

You blink as if the sight would clear from your vision with the press of your eyelids, but it doesn't. This is your boyfriend of three years, sitting beside you, kissing another girl on the big couch in the living room of the apartment you share, and your stomach does a strange little flip as you watch Chrissy's mouth open, lips pink and wet and pressing closer to Steve's mouth. Beneath the loose warmth of the alcohol in your system, your emotions are tangled, an amorphous, shifting mass beneath your skin. You're left just observing them blankly, entirely unsure how to react. 

A shift of black and white beyond Chrissy draws your attention, and you find your gaze darting from that point of connection between her and Steve to Eddie's brown eyes. A little helplessly, you scan his expression, needing something to inform your reaction— to tell you what you should think, what you should do or say in the face of what's currently happening. And as Eddie looks back at you, face entirely calm as he looks from you to Chrissy and Steve and back again, you can feel the shifting mass begin to soothe, that instinctual rise settling like a wave breaking over the sand, receding back into the ocean. 

As Eddie's calm pacifies you, you find yourself fixating on his dark eyes, long-lashed and depthless, as he looks back at you. You can feel the subtle movement of Steve's body beside you as he kisses Chrissy, the warmth of his bare side nudging against yours as he shifts his head. And then, just as abruptly as it began, the kiss ends. You look away from Eddie as Steve's skin drags against yours once more; he turns, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

You sigh into Steve's embrace as his lips meet yours, mouth warm and wet and tasting of alcohol, the familiar flavor of Steve, and the faintest hint of something sweet that you realize probably comes from Chrissy's mouth. Any insecurity you may have felt at seeing Steve kiss Chrissy— any doubt that he may not have wanted you after he'd kissed her— entirely flies from you as he pulls you closer, soft hands firm against the skin of your waist as he leans in, deepening your kiss with insistent lips. You kiss Steve back with equal enthusiasm, a low flutter beginning in your belly that he stokes with the drag of his palm up your back, the press of his thumb underneath your chin to angle your face up for him, and the breathy groan he sighs into your mouth.

Steve kisses you for a long moment, and when his lips draw away, you blink open into comforting hazel eyes, half-lidded and lust-drunk, pupils blown wide as a smile curls on his slick lips. He looks so happy and content that you feel that same contentment bloom within your own body, matching his as you smile sweetly at him, pressing one last kiss to his lips, lingering before pulling away.

You lean your cheek against the back of the couch, resting a gentle hand on Steve's arm. You know that the pretense of the game is over now, and you nod towards Chrissy with your chin— another silent offer of permission that makes Steve's eyes soften before he ducks back to you, kissing you decisively one last time as you smile again.

Steve turns from you then, warm skin shifting once more against yours. You sink back into the couch, letting the repetitive beat of the music wash over you as your limbs relax. You are languid and warm and utterly loose, and a vague smile plays at your lips as you curl your knees up comfortably, perfectly content to rest against the warmth of Steve's body until you feel the couch dip on the other side of you.

When you turn your head, your eyes find Eddie's so easily that it almost feels like instinct. He slings his arm along the back of the couch behind your head, pale skin radiating warmth against your hair, dark tattoos stark and so up close now it's almost dizzying. He's left a sliver of space between your bodies, a tiny polite distance that you promptly close when you roll towards him, lowering your legs, your thighs pressing together through both of your jeans. You rest your head against his arm, and your breath hitches as, for the first time, the skin of your side presses up against his.

Eddie's scent, the warmth of his body, and his sudden nearness are disorienting, and your head buzzes with the stimuli; but when you look up at him, his loose curls brushing your shoulder as he slants his face towards you, all that matters are the gentleness in his eyes and the smoke in his voice as he asks you, voice a hushed murmur, "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathe, and then he does.

It's odd enough that you're suddenly kissing someone who isn't Steve, but it's so incredibly, acutely bizarre that you can feel Steve's back against yours while another man's mouth descends on your lips. Your heart skips and thuds in your chest, beating a rapid tattoo as warmth surrounds you, the heat of two masculine bodies pressing up against you on either side. Yet when you feel Eddie's thumb drag featherlight over your cheek, the touch so light and delicate, your divided attention becomes no longer divided at all.

Eddie shifts the position of his face as you lean into him, nose brushing yours as he slots his mouth better over your lips. Suddenly, you notice everything: the stubble on his upper lip; the tickle of his hair against your neck; the firm but gentle way his lips move against yours, not pressing too deep, not insisting he take too much; and finally his scent, that smoke incarnate, musky and heady and mixing with delicate apples.

The intensity of the tingling flutters that erupt in your belly makes your spine straighten, pushing your body closer to Eddie's. Moth wings beat a frenzy as he moans into your mouth, a little aborted noise that he chokes back as soon as it occurs, though as you hear it, all you want is to hear it again, to make him do it again. But Eddie pulls back, and the seal of your lips breaks as he sucks in a quick breath through his mouth. You can feel his face hovering nearby, and for one fleeting moment, you're almost afraid to open your eyes, to see his expression or, the addled thought hits you, to discover that you'd imagined this entire thing. 

Despite yourself, your eyelashes flutter open into a face framed by wild curls, a soft nose, full, plush lips blushed pink from kissing, and the most beautiful pair of wide brown eyes you've ever seen in your life. Those eyes dart between yours as if to assess your reaction, to check for any return of the nerves you'd been so consumed by earlier that night. 

But Eddie finds none because there are none. And this time, when you're the one to brush your fingers against Eddie's cheek, you can feel him smile into your eager kiss.

-

Later that night, you lie on the bed you share with Steve, bleary eyes staring at the darkened ceiling and a sleepy smile pulling at your lips as you listen to the shower run in the en-suite bathroom. You and he are alone now; the night's encounter is over. 

As the clock had ticked closer to midnight, things had never escalated— you'd all been content to kiss and cuddle up on the big couch until eyelids grew heavy and yawns became abundant. Eddie informed you all that he was okay to drive, and Steve had permitted it after clasping his shoulders, holding him still to look intently into his eyes, face almost absurdly sober with his insistence that he'd better not dare to get behind the wheel if he's drunk. As goodbyes were exchanged, Chrissy had hugged you just as tightly as she had when she'd arrived, if not more so, dispelling any notion that there may be awkwardness between you after having made out with each other's boyfriends. And maybe it will be different in the morning when you're sober, but right now, at the end of this night, all you feel is genuine happiness.

It seems, for all intents and purposes, that your arrangement is a success.

As you wait for Steve to join you in bed, the screen of his phone illuminates with a notification in the relative darkness of the bedroom. As you glance at it, a sudden notion occurs to you, one that, as you consider it, becomes increasingly more attractive as you think about it. So you roll over to Steve's side of the bed, tapping in his passcode— you both know each others' passcodes, having nothing to hide— and you bypass Steve's notifications, texts, emails, and so forth, intent only on pulling up his contacts list.

You press and drag your finger, letting go when you find the 'E's, eyes scanning until you locate what you're looking for: the contact card for Eddie Munson. You click it, mouthing the numbers to yourself as you roll back to your side of the bed, pulling your phone from its mirrored position on your side table and opening up your text messages.

The message you type to Eddie is simple. You don't include your name or any greeting at all. Instead, you just write, "Lacuna Coil equals," followed by three vanilla ice cream cone emojis out of five. You tap send, then follow it up with a second text: the Spotify link for the song 'The Lion's Roar' by First Aid Kit. 

Intention fulfilled, you plug your phone back in, and, hearing the water shut off in the bathroom next door, you snuggle down underneath your covers. You anticipate the imminent press of Steve's freshly-showered body, which you know will lull you to sleep with its familiar comfort. 

You're half-dozing when your phone vibrates once, startling you awake with a little jolt. You watch to see if it will vibrate more, but it just sits there silently until you snake your fingers out, retracting it into the warmth of your bedsheet-cocoon.

You squint against your phone's brightness, blinking to focus on the notification on your lock screen. It's from an unknown contact, just a string of numbers, but you know who it is without reading them.

Eddie's message says, 'Good lyrics. Too twangy.' He's followed it with two chocolate bars out of five.

You frown, bottom lip stuck out as your thumbs immediately tap-tap-tap against the screen, the vibrations of each keystroke under your fingers making the phone feel almost alive. You send your follow-up argument and then wait for Eddie's response. A tiny wing-flutter accompanies the sight of the three blue dots that indicate he's typing now. His reply pops up soon after, and despite its brevity, a small smile blooms on your lips.

You'd said, 'The vocals are so raw, though. You can feel her pain. I think that makes it worthy of more than two chocolate bars.' 

He'd replied, 'I just really don't like country.' And then Eddie had added one more chocolate bar emoji, saying, 'Final offer for you, sweetheart.'

That dark place, buried deep inside you… you don't know it yet, but its peat is fertile, longing to grow roots. It's yearning for those roots to emerge, to leaf, to blossom up through the center of you and bear fruit.

All it needs is a little light.

#TKYM #blueywrites #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham

[shapeshiftersvt]

Big Update Post

Hiya, shapeshifters!

We have some announcements to make this evening.

Here’s the short of it:

The Shapeshifters website will be temporarily down this Sunday evening, March 3, 2024 at Midnight EST.

When it comes back up, you’ll find a shiny new website that is organized the same way with a couple of exceptions.

The Off-the-Rack Sale and Holographic listings will be temporarily delisted.

The Goth listings will be renamed. You will find Rainbow Constellations, Monster Mouths, and a couple of new options listed under Cosmic Horror.

The Skin Tone listings will have brand new additional color skin tone options!

The Island Time listings will also have a new option available.

The Binding 101 FAQ will be rolled into its own section in the FAQ.

There will be a brand new Events Page!

The blog will be temporarily disabled.

If you’re curious about the long of it, keep reading.

For everyone else, we appreciate your patience during this transition! Like so many other transitions, we’re delighted about where it’s going. 

Website Downtime

Shapeshifters is finally moving to Shopify! We’ve done a lot of work over the past few months building a more organized, streamlined website that will be easier to access for you and update for us. On Sunday night, we’ll shut down the current website to pause orders so that we can migrate everything cleanly.

Off-the-Rack and Holographic Listings

The Off-the-Rack listings will be delisted to give us a chance to reorganize the remaining stock so we don’t accidentally double-sell anything. 

The Holographic listings will be delisted while we assess our fabric options. Long-time customers might notice that we’ve removed Liquid Metal and Oil Slick from the Holo listings; we’re sourcing replacements and new options throughout spring. Once we know our options, we’ll either re-launch the Holo listings, or move the currently available fabric Prism to another home so it won’t be all alone anymore.

If you’ve been eyeing either Prism or an Off-the-Rack, buy it before Sunday if you can!

Expanded Skin Tone Range

We’re very excited to announce three new skin tone options will be available after the website migration: Pine, Chestnut, and Laurel! Pine is a pale shade, while Chestnut and Laurel are both on the darker end of the spectrum.

And, the new and improved Skin Tone listings will be the perfect place to see the results of our latest photoshoot! We’re excited for y’all to get to see these photos around the site and on the listings. We sought out models of color with darker skintones both to fill a gap in the modeled photos in our listings, and to show off our darker skin tones. All of our models were amazing, our photographer was great, and the photos are fantastic! We really leaned into the cozy Vermont vibes for this one.

Events Page

We’re going to events again! Hooray!

And we’re not just going to conventions and conferences and Pride festivals. We’re also talking queer markets, fashion shows, and binder sewing workshops!

That’s right, some lucky folks in the New England area will have the opportunity to take an in-person class with Eli, our head tailor and the developer of our DIY Binder Sewing Kits. They will walk you, step-by-step, through sewing your own custom-sized binder and help you troubleshoot along the way. These workshops are designed for sewists of any level and do not require you to own a sewing machine.

If you’d like to host a sewing workshop or would like to have us at any other event, educational, celebratory, fashionable or otherwise, please contact us!

Thanks once again  for bearing with us during this transition and we can’t wait for you all to see the new site!

#chest binders #shapeshifters #events #pride #skin tone chest binders #sewing workshops #how to sew binders

[acuar-io]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!

omg i missed these simblr questions sm!!! hiii <333

wow ok, theres more than one, im going to mention the ones right off my head.

@softerhaze their sunday save is one of my favorites on simblr its so cozy and the story leading up to the gameplay is so <3333 one of my first ever inspos ~

@peonypyxels sparks legacy is sooooooo wholesome, the vibes are beautiful i love it so much also i strive to play more than one generation... ash is on gen 6 of her legacy. I WANT THAT TO BE ME KSDKKSDK

@stellarfalls is obviously going to be on this list. Seriously brought something amazing to the simblr community with their valley gp. Bree is sooooo fucking talented, you can see the time and effort that goes into her posts. My brain always bursts with inspo when I see a new post by her ;-; <3

@simminginstars @milk-heavy @stefsimz @sunflowerik @moonwoodhollow @retrotrait @softsimulation @notelizapancakes I'm putting them all together because I have the same thing to say for them all and i dont want to get repetitive lol. THEY ARE ALL SO TALENTED. I love their sims, the atmospheres they create with their (for the most part) no dialogue storytelling/gameplay. Its so dreamy and beautiful. I love all the sims involved in their gameplays im obsessed with them all.

You are all truly an inspiration to me and i have notifications on for you all as well ;-; <3 just know that what you create and share makes me sooooooo happy and is the highlight of my day!!!!

#ask #reply #anon #question of the day

[bluelockhalloweek]

Blue Lock Halloweek 2023 Prompts are here—can’t wait to see what y’all create!

👻 Reblog with your favorites prompts & share with your Blue Lock crew!

👻 Find the event on Twitter @/BllkHalloweek

👻 See below for more info, typed-out prompts, & prompt examples if you need clarification or inspiration

👻 Feel free to mix and match, and take prompts as literally or as tangentially as you want!

👻 Work doesn’t have to be specifically Fall / Halloween themed as long as it fits a prompt. (If you’re writing a superhero fic for “Mask,” don’t feel like you have to stick a 🎃 in a corner unless you want to.)

👻 Work can be as lighthearted, scary, or spicy as you want as long as you follow the updated guidelines!

👻 Thank you to everyone who submitted prompts, & credit to the anons who suggested The Witching Hour & Mischief Night! A lot of suggestions were already on my longer list or were very similar, or might be better saved for next year. If your favorite isn't on the list, the “Free Prompt” finale is your day!

👻 Find event Archive of Our Own here!

👻 The event is on Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3, so share your contribution on all three!

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Blue Lock Halloweek (+ 2!): October 23 - October 31, 2023

Monday 23: Pumpkin spice + Do you believe in magic?

Tuesday 24: Masks + Heartbeat

Wednesday 25: Things that go bump in the night + Festival

Thursday 26: Firelight + Dark Waters

Friday 27: Paranoia + The Witching Hour

Saturday 28: Monster’s Ball + Hunter’s Moon (actual full moon date & name!)

Sunday 29: Angels & Demons + Castle

Monday 30: Spirit + Movie / Mischief Night (actual night)

Tuesday 31 🎃: Sweet Tooth / Sucker + Free Prompt!

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Now for Prompt Examples + Explanations 

I’ve had people ask for prompt examples in past events I’ve hosted and this event is open to any language, so here you go! These are the quick brainstorming notes (now expanded with links & definitions) I took while narrowing down the list to be sure the final prompts were unique enough / without toooo much overlap, and covered enough areas. Only some of maaaany interpretations—go wild!

Your host is a fic-writer with ADHD, so…you’ve been warned.

Day 1: 

Pumpkin Spice: Cozy Autumn vibes. Putting up Halloween decorations, carving Jack-o-lanterns, coffee / tea shop, pumpkin patch, scented candles, baking, fall sangria, sweaters and beanies and flannels, momijigari (Autumn Hanami 🌸, basically) / admiring gorgeous fall foliage, fresh hot apple cider in an orchard. Itoshi Bros and their love of turtle/mock-neck sweaters. Pumpkin Farmer Aiku and Karasu scarecrow!

Do you believe in magic?: Revealing their magical powers for the first time. Crystal ball, tarot. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, etc. AU. Non-literal magic in relationships (feeling understood, chemistry, humor matching up perfectly, etc). Wands, spells, magical objects, magical creatures, etc.. Making a wish. Alexis "The Magician" Ness.

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Day 2:

Masks: Costumes, super heroes, putting up a front, acting like something you’re not, classic masked Halloween meet-cute, secret / concealed identities, spies, ninja and samurai and assassins (Karasu and Otoyaaa!) Niko hiding his eyes / face.

Heartbeat: Racing heart from excitement, fright, romance, spice. No heartbeat like undead, zombie or vampire, etc.. Skip a beat, beat faster, beat slower (calm and comfort). Chigiri on the run from zombies, zombie Lorenzo!

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Day 3: 

Things that go bump in the night: unexplained (scary or otherwise) noises in the night, whispers or voices, ghosts and other supernatural entities, haunted house / place, anything scary, …spicy. Spooky Owl outside Rin’s window. 

Festival: String lights illuminating festival stalls, costumes, traditional attire (Aryu looking stylish!), food and drink, games, Isagi devouring fried fair food. Fall Music festival. Mid-Autumn Festival (with all the pretty lanterns and mooncakes 🥮), Harvest / Fall Fests in general. Bobbing for apples, caramel / candy apples, carnival rides and games, Ferris wheel. Oktoberfest; Kaiser and/or any Bastard München player in Lederhosen—please, I’m begging!! Fun house / haunted house. Day of the Dead festivities. 

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Day 4:

Firelight: Cauldrons, brewing potions. Candles, rituals, bonfires. Autumn camping trip, s’mores, spooky firelight shadows outside the tent, got lost on a hiking trip & have to make a fire to keep warm! Torches, candles, lanterns lighting the way in a definitely not-haunted place. Hell, your favorite circle (Dante’s Inferno) 😈

Dark Waters: merpeople, sirens, sea monsters, kraken, pirates (Kurona and Raichi, Bachira 🐬!), sharks, shipwreck, ghost ships, stranded on a deserted island, haunted lakes, lake spirits, Autumn fishing trip, swamp monsters, bogs and marshes, willowisps, alligators, snakes. Loch Ness Monster

(Fire and water, light and dark)

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Day 5:

Paranoia: Fear and suspicion, feeling like someone’s watching and you just can’t shake it (...Ego and his cameras), feeling like you’re losing your mind, etc.. Doesn’t have to be all bad! Maybe there was a misunderstanding before a fun surprise. 

The Witching hour: Wiki / dictionary. Depending on whom you ask, the hour is either midnight or 3am - 4am. Supernatural entities / practitioners of dark arts are the most active and powerful. These entities might feel compelled / drawn out into the world. Magic and danger, inexplicable happenings! Humans ought to be at home and safely tucked in bed at this late hour, or else... Fun fact, the Orionid meteor shower peaks juuust before this event starts (in my hemisphere, at least) but continue until November, and the best time to view meteor showers is generally around the witching hour (after midnight / 3-4am). Can also mean the time in which people get up to no good or questionable stuff. 

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Day 6:

Monster’s Ball: Monsters, creatures. Bachiraaa. Halloween party, masquerade, nightlife (going out in costume—or not—to bars and clubs). Reo buying a round. Literal ⚽ ball (Lil Isagi trick-or-treating in Noa’s kit), Halloween Practice (like in high school or college when your coach let you have a fun practice in costume before a holiday—absolute chaos and so fun!). Whatever chaos and debauchery y’all can imagine. Just follow the event guidelines and tag accordingly! Green eyed monster (jealousy), Cinderella’s Ball (Sae and Shidou!)

Hunter’s Moon: The date of the actual full Hunter’s Moon—lucky us! Sometimes called the Blood Moon. Full moon, werewolves, moonlight, on the hunt or being hunted, spells and rituals, Tsukimi / moon viewing + Tsukimi dango 🎑, moon myths and gods. Celestial things, Kurona and Isagi planetary hotline / astronauts, aliens.

(Monster vs Hunter day, ha)

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Day 7:

Angels and Demons: Demon and priest, hell, listening to the angel or the devil on your shoulder (making a questionable decision because it’s tempting), devilish fun or spells, sin, temptation, a deal with the devil. Ohhh, Sae and Shidou, your night has come! 😈

Castle: fairytales, knights, vampires, dungeons, Royalty (King Barou, Emperor Kaiser!). Also super Sae and Shidou.

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Day 8: 

Spirit: ghosts, haunted houses, GhostBusters, spirit entities like yokai, Ghost Adventures. Gagamaru as a friendly Yokai! Shaman. Possession, possessed or cursed objects. JJK. Ouija board game! Monk Igaguri. 

Movie Night: Watching a scary (or not scary) movie, series, anime, etc. So many movie/show Alternate Universes. Sendou living his Hollywood dreams. Barbie please!!! Nagi nodding off halfway through. The guys as a character from their favorite movie listed in the Egoist Bible.

Mischief Night: Wiki page. The night before Halloween for hijinks, pranks, scaring each other! Toilet papering Ego’s house. Can be more sinister, too. 

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Day 9: Halloween!

Sweet tooth / sucker: Trick-or-Treating, candy corn, so much candy, caramel corn, vampires or anything with fangs, bite, ‘sucker’ like 🍭 or vampires, or…

Free day / AU (alternate universe) Palooza!: 

Whatever Halloween stuff you want that doesn’t quite fit a prompt! Just listing some of the things I would draw (if I could) or write (if i had time):

Video game au for Hiori! Pokemon! Ego as a gangly cowboy, ⚽️ bolo tie and all. Barou as the "Cowardly" Lion in the Wizard of Oz. And finally, artists, if you're reading this, please, please consider Noel Noa (of the 🇫🇷 French National 🥖 Team!!) dressed as Bonjour Man from Life Lessons with Uramichi Onii-san (clip, manga cap). Please Omg. This image has literally been haunting me since starting this event and the manga/anime (even the dub!) is soooo funny. And technically, Bonjour Man is a cursed spirit sooo 👻

Okay, that's it. Hope y'all have fun. Please reblog and spread the word 🧡🖤

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