#bless those blue jeans

[warpedwings]

Misha Collins • Leather Jackets, Part Seven

📸 kreespa

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

#misha collins #leather #misha in leather #black leather jacket #bless those blue jeans #this is the final leather jacket post #though i do have a few more miscellaneous leather jacket pics i didn't include #but they'll appear eventually #his smile is contagious #misha is beautiful

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut #jeremy allen white #ugh i love him #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #the bear x reader #i actually love how this turned out

[vapeman]

u know u live in a purple southern college town when the 2 main clubs ur friends go to on weekends are 1. a hick club and 2. a gay club

#I get nasty on those line dances make no mistake. only problem is u have to wear blue jeans if u don’t wanna stick out #my bf doesnt like it there bc we’re openly and visibly queer but no one cares tbh #he has no country in him bless his heart. #I like both but the gay club plays nicki so I have an obvious favorite

[levitiquee]

“Daaa-ddy.”

Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.

“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.

Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.

“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”

She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.

Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?

So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.

Like his.

Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.

But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.

And her smile, that came from you.

She was his. Yours. Theirs.

A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.

It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.

And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.

That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.

It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.

It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.

His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.

“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”

“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”

He only lets out a small hum in response.

"Will I be as strong as you one day?"

"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.

“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”

“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.

Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?

But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.

She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.

“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.

“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”

Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.

“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.

“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.

‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”

Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”

“Yes.”

Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.

Well damn.

Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.

“Levi, I can–” You start.

“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.

It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.

"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.

It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.

“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.

“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.

She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”

Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.

“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.

You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.

Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.

“So.” You said.

“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.

“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"

He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''

"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”

“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.

“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”

You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.

“I won’t.”

You blinked, turning your expression sadder.

Levi gives up.

“C’mere.” He sighs.

#levi ackerman #aot #levi #captain levi #levi heichou #snk #aot fandom #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi fluff #levi thoughts #aot levi x reader #captain levi x reader #levi x reader imagine #levi x reader imagines #levi x y/n #levi x you #dadvi #levi as a dad

[lovebugism]

I had this idea about eddie dating reader who is obsessed with pop boy bands! tysmm

i'm so obsessed with this idea bless you anon — the town freak tries to impress the local cool girl and, in true eddie munson fashion, it doesn't go as quite expected (friends to lovers, fluff, shameless it reference, 1.1k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie stands across the counter at Family Video and lays a collection of cassettes on top of it. 

Steve blinks once at the tapes, then twice up at him. “…What is this?” he wonders, visibly dumbfounded.

“Do you interrogate every customer that comes in here?” the wild-haired boy quips, digging into the pockets of his leather jacket for some wadded-up bills. “Just scan it.”

“New Kids on the Block? New Edition?” Steve announces as he bags each plastic case. His chiseled features twist in confusion. “Who are you, and what did you do with Eddie Munson?”

“It’s not for me, dingus.”

“First of all, don’t call me that. And second of all, who the hell is it for then?”

“Someone. No one,” Eddie mumbles, shrugging and shifting his weight on his feet, doing a terrible job of hiding his sudden sheepishness. “Don’t worry about it.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. “A girl?”

“…Maybe.”

“A pretty girl?”

Eddie scoffs an unamusing laugh. “Sure. If that’s the only way your pea brain knows how to describe someone as… uncanny, and demonic, and fascinating as she is.”

Steve’s brows pinch in a subtle horror. He’s not sure what most of those words mean, but they don’t really sound like compliments. He just shrugs and decides not to press it any further. “…Okay.”

“She’s just into this stuff, okay?” Eddie confesses, gesticulating wildly with his ringed hands. “And I wanna like the things that she likes— Is that so bad?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s very, very bad,” Steve answers without thinking twice. He passes him the plastic bag full of tapes with a sympathetic glint in his eye. “’Cause that means you’re in love.”

————— 

Eddie stands outside the arcade in wait for you. He knows you always come to The Palace on Fridays — right before the school day ends, so you have a couple hours of peace before the snotty middle schoolers run you out with their post-P.E. stench.

He wears a set of headphones over his untamed curls and a walkman clipped to his jeans. It plays a pop song he’s only ever heard on the car radio. Steve’s radio, specifically. He’s heard you hum it a time or two, and it’s the only time he’s ever been able to stand it — as if he needed another reason to prove Steve right. 

He was head over heels, disgustingly, wretchedly, completely, utterly, and totally in love with you.

Propped against the driver’s side door of his van, he exhales smoke from his lungs and sees you walking down the sidewalk. 

Your pink tights swish at the knees while your plaid skirt, in a grass green color, flutters around your thighs. Your sweater’s bright blue, and the only thing halfway matching the rest of your outfit is the bright emerald dinosaur pictured on the front of it.

You beam at the sight of him. “Teddy? What are you doing here?”

“I’d guess the same thing you’re doing here, sweetheart,” he quips, playing cool as he snuffs out his cigarette with the heel of his worn sneaker.

“Normally, you’re busy on Fridays… I’m starting to feel like you’re stalking me.”

Eddie’s deep brown eyes narrow, twinkling with dark chocolate. “And how would you know that I’m busy on Fridays?” he teases, tilting his wild head to his shoulder.

You shrug, faltering for a blink of a moment. “Corroded Coffin always performs on Fridays. Everyone knows that.”

“Well, maybe just you and the… four other drunks that happento come to the Hideout on Fridays,” he jokes with a boyish laugh.

“Touché,” you concede, smiling wider. “Whatcha listening to?”

You reach out for him, taking the headphones from his ears like you always do. You place them over your own head and expect to hear something loud and heavy — that’s what you usually catch him listening to, anyway. A wide smile blooms on your lips when a familiar song fills your ears.

“New Kids on the Block?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, voice distant with disbelief.

Eddie had been expecting this. He’d spent ten minutes praying this exact moment would happen, but he stumbles over himself about it anyway. “Yeah. Uh, Family Video— They’re selling tapes and stuff now— To keep from going out of business, I guess,” he stammers, laughing awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck. “So, I don’t know. I guess, I thought I’d—”

“Buy it for yourself?” you finish for him, with a knowing grin on your petaled mouth. “And then try to impress me by waiting outside the arcade I go to every Friday? Even though you’re usually busy practicing?”

You see right through him with little effort. Mostly because you’re one and the same — hopelessly in love and tripping over yourselves with it.

Eddie nods, then laughs. “Yeah, actually. That’s— That’s the half of it, yeah.”

Your smile quietens when you slip the headphones back over his head, fingers brushing his curls and palms grazing his flushed cheeks. “Maybe we can go together sometime?” you offer and step back from him again. “I can show you where they kept the real music. You know, make sure they got the right stuff to listen to.”

His chest swells. He almost forgets to breathe. 

He never, in a million years, would’ve expected his first unofficial date with you to be at Family Video, of all places — but he’s grateful for it nonetheless. He figures he could go just about anywhere and be happy as long as he could look over and see you standing right beside him.

Eddie nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Sure. Yeah. That sounds— That sounds good.”

“I’ll call you when I’m free,” you tease and walk on by him. 

You’re always free. He knows that. You’re always everywhere and nowhere all at once. Even now, standing right in front of him, you’ll disappear like you’d never been there at all. You just like to keep him guessing, really, and he knows that, too. It’s why he melts for you so easy.

“Okay,” he nods, rapid and utterly dumb.

“I’ll see you soon. Maybe.”

He watches you meander towards the entrance of the arcade. Words start to bubble in his throat. They spill out before his brain can decide whether or not to actually say them. “Please don’t go girl,” he blurts while the lyrics of the same song croon in his ears.

You spin around and blink wordlessly at him. You don’t look confused, but you don’t look impressed either. Eddie can’t gauge the emotion on your face, and he falters.

“That’s the... That’s the name of… of one of their songs,” he stammers.

He blinks, and you’re beaming again. A golden laugh spills from your lips, like honey and summer and sunshine. “I know, Teddy,” you grin — voice as warm and as fond as your glittering gaze. 

He grieves when you turn away again, walking into the arcade without looking back at him once.

Eddie doesn’t breathe again until you’re gone, forgets how to until you’re done clouding his vision.

You’ll be the death of him yet.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

[onmyyan]

You know those silly porn plots where the person gets stuck in something and then gets boinked to all heaven. I'm just thinking about Ashley finding a poor darling stuck in between a broken fence while helping out around the farm and can't help himself. I mean yeah sure, you might not get a hand right away but you'll get something better.

I mean darling was going to be sore after helping around anyways. Right? Right.

-🎂

The way I have two similar requests like this for Ashley y'all so nasty I love it TW FOR YANDERE DUBCON Feedback is welcome and appreciated NOT EDITED

"Ash? Is that you?" He hears your sweet voice call out to him from the barn, he takes wide heavy steps to get to you faster, not liking how uneasy you sounded, it was another hot summer day out on the farm and you'd insisted on helping him out with his chores so he could be done sooner, acts of kindness like that are part of the reason Ashley fell for you in the first place, as of right now he was just your good friend and neighbor, but he so desperately needed more from you, he years to cross that line and push your relationship where it's meant to be, he was a good, honest man, he helped everyone he came across and he just wanted you, the universe seems to agree, blessing him with quite the sight this fateful afternoon.

You've somehow managed to wedge your plump body between the pen of one of his more rowdy sheep, Betty.

He watches you hungrily, blue eyes trained on your perfect ass, his hands balled into fists as he watches it jiggle, wiggling back and forth as you tried to squirm out of your predicament, your tank top had been caught on a nail when you'd gotten stuck chasing Betty out of harm's way, the dirtied white shirt lay in scraps around your waist as your bare, soft looking back arched in a way that had all his blood rush south, his dick stirring in his jeans as he coughed, alerting you to his presence.

"You alright there sweatpea?" He asks, shamelessly eyeing the curves of your body, the way your thick thighs pressed together as you fruitlessly struggled, you laughed, he could tell you were embarrassed, "Oh thank God Ash! Betty gave me the runaround and I managed to get stuck in here, can you help me?" You giggle at your own clumsiness but Ash doesn't have it in him to laugh, his brain wracked with images of you, none of them platonic, he doesn't respond for a second, unable to speak as he furrowed his brow, his cock straining painfully against the front of his jeans.

He's trembling in place as his pent up desire and longing for you came to a head, he couldn't get his mind off the lewd scenarios playing behind his eyes, he swallows thickly, sweat beading down his brow as he begins to pant.

"You hurt?" He manages to ask, stepping close enough where you could feel the fabric of his pants, his large frame hovering above you, "No, I'm okay, just completely embarrassed." You laugh it off breath hitching when you hear him drop to his knees behind you, you can hear his breath pick up a bit, his voice heavy with something dark, something that had your thighs clenched together.

"Thats good.." he trails off, "Real good." He swallowed audibly before placing his hot, big hands on the meat of your round hips, squeezing the flesh experimentally, "I'ma get you outta' here just hold steady..." he trails off as if in a trance, his hands pawing at your short clad hips, as if he was trying to find the best angle. "That's it, be still f'me." He grunts out softly before tugging you backwards by your hips, his eyes roll back at the sweet, surprised mewl that leaves you, "Woah- hold on-" you say beyond flustered as you felt his intimate hold, your hands gripping at the stray pieces of hay on the inside of the pen, he was just trying to help, but the way he felt against you, the tremble in his voice, how electricity ran up your body from where his hands firmly gripped you, it had your face burning hot and your breath quickening.

"Gotta try and pull you out suga'." He says, his tongue poking out in concentration, he repeats his actions, pulling your thinly clothed core directly on his aching cock, this time he gives a slight grind, huffing at the whimpers it draws from you. "You really got yourself in a jam there didn't ya' sweetie?" He says sounding more flustered than you,

"Uh-um Ashley? What are you doing?" You manage to utter out through your fluster, your voice having a slight whine as you felt him grind his massive hard on into you, your brain was still trying to rationalize his actions, surly the modern cowboy wasn't taking this chance to rut against you like an animal in heat.

You felt him nip at your exposed back playfully, he leaned as close as he could, tugging you back faster, humping against your ass like a teenager who couldn't contain themselves, "Little minx," he growls against your skin, abandoning any pretense of helping you, "if you wanted to drive me wild you didn't have to go so far as to get your pretty," he rolls his hips with a grunt, "-tempting, little body so nice and stuck f'me." He chuckles darkly as you buck and mewl against him, the friction absolutely delicious as he grinded against you, panting and sweaty, his cock begins to leak pre against his jeans as he huffs and grunts like a wild animal.

"I di-didn't! I swear!" You tried to defend yourself but it fell on flat ears as he only pulled you into him harder, the seam on your jean shorts dug into your clit with everyone thrust.

He stops his motion, you open your mouth, confusion on your face when he's suddenly hooks his fingers around the band and yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one quick move, he wastes no time burying his face in your slick folds, moaning obscenely as he finally gets to taste you, he inhales deeply shuddering at your delectable scent, god how he'd dreamed of this exact moment, you taste better than he'd ever imagined, he shakes his head shoving his large tongue as deep inside your twitching hole as he could, his big hands spread your ass cheeks apart, giving him more room to feast, he moans into your trembling pussy, lapping at your honeyed essence like a man starved, your cries of surprise and pleasure had him rutting against nothing, desperate for some relief for his aching cock.

"Fuck!- oh shit Ashley wait- hold on-" he ignores your pleas, almost feral for the nectar gushing down his throat, he didn't stop until you were dripping down his chin, moaning almost as loud as you as he pulls away with a pop, you can't see his face but he looks positively debauched, his tan skin red and drenched in your sweet cum, his hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead, his pupils blown wide with lust, only a thin ring of blue left as he drank in the sight of your still twitching pussy.

"There we go, good girl." He praises kissing up your thighs and back, you heard the telltale sound of a belt buckle being undone as he moves with certainty. "Keep still for me now." He says under his breath, slicking up his fat cock with spit, he gives no warning before pushing the weeping head past the tight ring of your entrance, the growl that leaves him is drowned out by your loud cry, he was spreading you so much and it was just the tip! You fisted the hay before you, whining as he grabs your hips again, "Ease up now- there we go, relax baby, it'll fit." The words do the opposite of reassure you as he presses forward, pulling you back onto him with a lewd squelch, he moans loudly as you sink down to his balls, his abdomen tightens, clenching at the molten heat from your cunt, the way you wrapped around him , how your body seemed to shape around his massive girth, he gave a choppy breath, groaning as he began to pound into you, the force of his thrusts shaking the pen so hard you feared it would break.

He was like a man possessed, growling and biting at any skin he could, his balls slapped against your gushing pussy with every one of his brutal thrusts, "Take this dick, take this fuckin' dick sweet thing" he grunts against your skin, his pace now so hard it knocked the breath from your lungs, you weep against the barns dirty floor as he sends you hurdling off the cliff straight into the abyss, your eyes clam shut as you're forced to take every inch of him, you feel him pulsing inside you as he breathes raggedly, "Fuck- oh fuck that's it baby, cum on this dick." He spews the filth as he moves a hand from your hip to rub fast little circles on your swollen clit, you come all over his cock, squirting around him so hard it drenches his blue jeans dark, with a deep growl of your name he reaches his own high, shooting hot load after load into your womb, his whine makes you clench around him, the sounds of your hard panting echo throughout the barn. With a simple move Ashley moves the pen and gently pulls you from your position, finally freeing you, he held your back to his still heaving chest, holding your fucked out form close to him, with a happy sigh he leans against the wall of the barn, your barley conscious form curls into his warm chest, he tilts his hat over his eyes and holds you close, allowing himself a moment of rest before he fucked you good and proper.

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #Ashley Hunt #Ashley Hunt x reader #Onmyyan OC's #thirsty Thursdays #tw dubcon #yandere smut

[nouvellevqgue]

i. oh my, never seen that color blue · ﹙ charles leclerc ﹚

summary: red is indeed his color, but what if he switched to blue?

a/n: catluvr444 is max's girlfriend username

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

charles_leclerc added to their story!

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, shakira, and 459,725 more

yourusername trip-trippin' on you 👜

view all 56,208 comments...

username where are you goinnn???👀👀

⤷ yourusername nyc!!

⤷ username she's going to nyc to... watch taylor's concert?

username spill your hair secret bestie

⤷ yourusername hair oiling, conditioner and shampoo by pantene

maxverstappen1 blue suits you better

⤷ charles_leclerc she looks good with both red and blue

⤷ pierregasly but to be honest she looks better with blue though

⤷ charles_leclerc shut up

username she's literally so prettyyy

username how can i have her hair

ellamai glad you love the soonggg🎶 😚

⤷ yourusername i love it everytime!!

username YESSS Y/N PHOTOGRAPHED BY CHARLES IS BACK ‼️‼️‼️

⤷ username bless him for taking this view of her😇

damianodavid you suits all the color it's amazing

yourusername thank you so much 🫶🏻 damianodavid

sza that wind and your back view is truly a blessing

⤷ username i mean does she lie tho

honeymoon 💝💝

username she's literally so cool omg

username but do y'all realize when she wore blue, and so does he...

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 740,129 more

yourusername new shirt alert.

👤: charles_leclerc

view all 89,570 comments...

username the second slide is so him

username he has a questionable sense of fashion for those graphic t-shirt

danielricciardo 👀😁

charles_leclerc i can't believe you took the picture

⤷ username so it's a secret picture kinda thing until she spoil it

⤷ yourusername well i mean it's matched with what's inside

⤷ danielricciardo let's do this conversation in a whole different place shall we

landonorris easy with that shirt

⤷ username LANDO😭😭

username his fashion is matched with max smh

⤷ username typical dad graphic tee and skinnny jeans????

⤷ username 😭😭😭😭

username it's all fun and game until when she posted charles doing the same thing she did yesterday

username she knows what she did to humanity when she posted this

username wait... he wore blue?

⤷ username OMG YEAH I DIDN'T REALIZE IT💀💀

username oh. rb charles is coming?

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ scuderiaferrari don't you dare

⤷ username ferrari is scared to lose him but still giving him that junk ass car is making me WHEEZING SO HARD

ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername, pierregasly, and 948,201 more

charles_leclerc my favorite one to hold, forever to keep

view all 259,170 comments...

username oh no since when he became poetic😦

username idk but i had either bad or good feeling or nah about this

username blue charles spotted online👀👀

yourusername GUYS WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM IN BLUE???

username y/n honey look, he works in ferrari. FERRARI IS RED (but yk rb is blue)

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ username rb admin wdym by that

username her fit is always been the best

carmenmmundt loving your fit match. so much.

lilymhe charles really hit your good angle there

⤷ yourusername i don't have a bad angle😎

⤷ lilymhe oh yeah? wait until i found your year book

carlossainz55 yourusername what did you to him until he get like this

⤷ yourusername promise to you i didn't say anything to him

danielricciardo i've never seen blue looks ever so matched with him

⤷ yourusername so all those dark blue jeans for nothing????

scuderiaferrari our romeo🌹

username he progressively getting more and more blue as i look into his page

sebastianvettel Charles, what kind of book are you reading to be this romantic?

⤷ username oh even seb ask you this because like WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON

⤷ landonorris wait it's all came from a book he's reading?

⤷ charles_leclerc no, not really 😁

⤷ carlossainz55 you're not good with secrets, charles.

⤷ charles_leclerc i know.

yourusername

liked by brielarson, isahernaez, charles_leclerc, and 729,566 more

yourusername i swear it's blue irl

view all 62,420 comments...

username ASUEHDHEJSJJWSJSJSNSJD

username THE ROMANCE IS BACK

username it's more greenish though

⤷ yourusername but believe me, at some point it's blue. like light blue.

username once again charles with blue accent spotted: plaster

⤷ username i love the plaster tho, it suit his eye color

username WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO DAMN CUTEEE

camilamendes four pairs of pretty eyes

username literally mother and father

nicolezefanya aww you guys are so cute

ellefanning i miss you so much much much

⤷ yourusername miss you too like forever🥺

username isa liked this🥹❤️

⤷ username y/n is her closest friends, thank god they didn't lost any contact

landonorris JUST LET BE SINGLE IN PEACE PLEEEASEE

⤷ username lando is me, truly the man of the year

maxverstappen1 it's green actually, not blue

⤷ yourusername you know it's blue under the sunlight

⤷ catluvr444 yeah max just admit it

⤷ maxverstappen1 catluvr444 i can't believe you choosing to be on her side

⤷ catluvr444 sometimes a girl should make her choice 🤷‍♀️

username couple goals fr

username missing her on the paddock

⤷ username are they breaking up?

⤷ username no, she's busy on her movie project so she can't be with him

alex_albon i see max is already going to do his usual maxplaining in front of me now. help me

⤷ lilymhe omw to the rescue

⤷ username is it because of the blue ore green thing?

⤷ alex_albon apparently yes.

yourusername added to their story!

caption: gotcha

#✶! #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x you #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff

[grlzluvmyswag]

Satoru Gojo who loves a hot make-out session. Any time, any place. His big hands caressing all over your body, his fingertips leaving goosebumps and crescent indents along the warm skin beneath your shirt. He adores the delicious sensation of your tongue slipping and swirling all around his own, and your addictive taste, as well as the noises you bless him with when you begin to run out of breath. Of course, he will blissfully ignore your panicked little whimpers that vibrate within his mouth and proceed to purposefully deepen the steamy kiss until you really can't take anymore without passing out.

"Gah-... Jesus, Satoru, what're you trying to do? Kill me?" you gasp for air as you whisper with a frown, wiping the back of a few fingers along your darkened, plumped lips to smear away the sheen of mixed saliva.

"Huh? Whatever, I could say the same thing." he replies in a breathless hurry before shrugging and immediately plunging his eager tongue into your awaiting mouth, head tilted slightly and arms squeezing gently.

Satoru Gojo who loves dry humping. The closeness, the heat, the friction. It all gets to him, and so very badly. Those big, blue eyes of his can't help but shut tightly upon feeling the fabric of your shorts sliding up and down over the bulge you're creating in his jeans, and by god is it uncomfortable, but he just can't put a stop to it. Not until he has to warn you about the fact that he's so close to creaming himself just because of a little heavy grinding. It irks him, how he can't tell if it's his filthy imagination or if he can truly feel the shape of your pussy lips through the thick denim you're humping so fervently, although whatever the answer to that is, it just has him wanting you even more.

"Ooph, don't stop til I'm on the verge, 'kay..." he breathes out whilst his hips firmly buck upwards to meet your own, cool palms tightly moulding into the shape of your waist to impatiently guide you against himself.

"Have I ever?" you chuckle softly into his ear before pulling back a bit, a dirty smirk plastered on your face that he returns straight away at your words.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo headcanons

[munsonthings86]

hello, can I request a Steve Harrington fic where r working too hard for school and has been pulling all nighters frequently to keep track. R ends up being too tired and falling a little sick and not leaving the house except for when she has to go to school and her friends notice, Steve notices. Steve comes over, tries to help her and something along those lines. You can write it however you want, you can change it up if you want. Thank you :)

thank you for the request! tweaked it just a tiny bit, hope you enjoy :)

contains: cursing, fluff, overworked reader, soft!steve harrington, forgotten date, 1.0k words

School. Study. "Sleep". It was an endless, mind-numbing cycle that you were convinced was spiraling you into borderline madness. The condition of your bedroom was identical to how your brain had been feeling for the past week: cluttered and chaotic. With empty coffee cups littering your small floral desk, and your blush duvet covering more of the carpeted floor than your actual bed, you could hardly even recognize the room anymore.

The dirty laundry strewn across your floor would often trip you when you walked, but the assignments that you were practically drowning in made it impossible to shift your focus onto tidying the place.

You'd become a hermit; only leaving the comfort of your home to go to school and occasionally, the library, on the days that your room felt like more of a prison than a place of rest. Robin and Nancy, along with your boyfriend Steve, were certain you were avoiding them like the plague. They'd beg you to hangout with them, even bribing you by offering to treat you to lunch at the local diner, but the only thing you could say in return was a dry, "maybe later".

You didn't mean to be cold to them, but you were laser-focused on your agenda, determined to work first and play later. It's what led you to where you were now: head buried in your third textbook of the night, butt aching from being sat on your wooden chair for far too long.

On a Friday night of all.

From your window, you heard people, around your age you assumed, parading the streets and laughing loudly– enjoying their simple, young lives. Something you wished you could be doing too. But your work wasn't going to do itself.

You were color-coding the notes on your flashcard when three knocks sounded at your door, to which you mumbled a soft, "Come in," that even you barely heard. Your mother walked in, a mess of flour and an assortment of seasonings splotched on her apron from cooking dinner. "Honey, Steve's here," she smiled softly, though it was evident on her face that she was biting back the urge to tell you to clean your room, bless her.

The yellow highlighter you had was soon forgotten as your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what Steve was doing here. He usually called first.

Steve gave her a sweet grin when he passed her, leaving the door slightly cracked open, per your mothers request. In his hands he held a large box of pizza and a bouquet of pink roses; looking as dashing as ever with a crewneck and blue jeans adorning his body, with his hair being the perfect kind of messy.

You can't help but smile when you see him.

"Well, this is a rare sighting," he laughed, referring to you, "Should probably get this on camera." He kicked his white sneakers off where your own shoes were piled at, setting the pizza box down on your dresser.

"Very funny," you deadpanned, arms crossed on top of your chest. "What're you doing here?"

Steve approached you, something like a frown weighing on his lips. He taps the bouquet against his chest a couple times when he gently reminds you, "It's Friday."

You almost want to reach into your own body to catch your heart when you feel it completely sink. Friday's were you and Steve's designated date nights, never missing one since the two of you began dating a couple months ago. With the way you'd been so stressed and busy lately, it had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty.

"Fuck," your head fell into your hands as you rubbed at your tired eyes, harshly. Your words were muffled when you continued, "I'm sorry, I'm the worst."

Steve shook his head almost instantly, gently resting the flowers down on the desk next to you. "Hey, c'mon," he started, moving your hands from your face, standing you up in front of him. "It's okay, I know you've been busy lately."

He rubbed at your shoulders tenderly and the warm touch melted you. It was the first time you truly relaxed that whole week. "You're not mad?" You asked the question in a hushed tone, looking up at him with glittering eyes that were a bit red, your nose a similar hue. You must've been getting sick. His poor baby.

"Not even a little," he gazed at you with heated, sincere brown eyes and you couldn't will yourself to look at anything else. He kissed your forehead, and it's a bit salty with sweat, but he doesn't mind. "Just worried, is all," he murmured, adjusting the pendant on your necklace that had somehow found its way onto your back.

"Can I help at all?" He nodded at the books on your table.

"Steve, no offense but it's AP Calc," you smiled, lightly scratching at his scalp when your arms found their way around his neck. You laughed when his eyebrows raised as if he was startled, slightly shaking his head. "Christ," he says through clenched teeth, though he doubles down on his offer, "well, then I guess I'm learning AP Calc today. No biggie," he shrugs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"You don't have to do that, Stevie," you spoke against his lips, admiring how unbelievably sweet your boyfriend was. You knew how much he hated school, especially math, so you were more than grateful that he was willing to put himself through quite literal torture, just to make your night a bit easier. "But I want to," he kissed your nose. "Dinner first though, 'cause I know you skipped out on lunch."

Squinting your eyes, you released your hold on him. Sometimes it scared you how well he knew you. "How-?"

"I have eyes everywhere, love," he answered your question before you could even get it out. You rolled your eyes, a smile playing at your lips, already knowing that his "eyes" in question were just Robin and Nancy looking out for you.

💌 1 new message from jojo: writing this while procrastinating on like ten assignments was so funny lol. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! inbox is open!

#jojo’s requests ☁️ #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #soft!steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things

[pinguwrites]

Drabble: you can see Death's son

pairing | death junior x reader

Warnings: stalking, junior being a little obsessive but he's sweet and innocent, supernatural elements

A/N: Bro I just discovered this short film like yesterday and cranked out this small drabble. It's called At Death's Door (1999), where Cillian Murphy plays as some sort of grim reaper. He doesn't have a name in the film, so I made up Death Junior lol. That's his name now, okay?

No one was supposed to be able to see him. As the son of the Death, he was granted the gift of free passage, to travel between the realms of humans and spirits, unseen, like a gentle breeze in the wind. In the few years he had lived — albeit not many — he had come and gone, guiding souls to the beyond, and passing unnoticed by the living. It wasn’t until one fateful day near the end of Autumn did that change. It was the day you saw him; a girl, a mere mortal, whose eyes had somehow been blessed upon his image.

He stood, mouth slightly agape, pink lips chapped. He turned around, to see if you were looking at something else, but when he saw no one behind him, he knew without a doubt that it was him you were staring at. Beyond sight, he could feel it in his belly, a churning. 

This is not right, he thought. This is not right.

You were at the other end of the trail. It was a park, bare trees stripped of their sunset colors, fallen to the ground all crunched and brown. Green grass spread till it reached the surrounding roads, but there was plenty of space in between, where people were eating at picnic benches or playing with their dogs. You had been going for a run, with sweat beading down your forehead and labored breathing, when you stopped for a break and glanced upon him. 

You had given a quick smile, and the world stopped. Who were you? An angel, perhaps, come to steal him away. Or maybe a devil. He could not tell. 

“Are you alright?”

Gentle sound, beautiful. It broke him out of his thoughts, and back to your eyes. You were now standing just a few feet away from him.

He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted. He was dressed in all black, collared shirt, dress pants, polished shoes, and a scythe — his father’s scythe, though he hoped to make his own one day. He must have stood out like a sore thumb amongst all these bubblegum shirts and ripped blue jeans and fanny packs and whatever these people had in fashion these days. It was always changing.

“I — do you need help? You look a little lost.”

Say something, he thought. He’d been around humans enough to understand how to speak to them, and his own family very much modeled a stereotypical Victorian bunch. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know how to, rather that he had a lump in his throat that prevented him from doing so. 

“I’m sorry for bothering you, sir.”

He panicked. “No,” he blurted out, voice soft. He couldn’t let you leave. He just couldn’t. “What’s your name?”

You paused, then told him. In his mind, he repeated the word over and over again, like a religious mantra. He had always found names to be beautiful. They all meant different things and were attuned to culture and heritage. Even though there might be a million people sharing the same one, it was still yours. Like property.

“And you?”

He thought for a moment. He didn’t really have one. As much as he appreciated them, he had never thought of having his own. To him, a name was something he could not claim. Why should he even have one in the first place? He was always referred to as Son, and similarly, he referred to his parents as Mother and Father. That was enough, wasn’t it?

“I don’t . . . I don’t have one,” he said.

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “Shall I call you Reaper? Or Grim? You know, because of your costume? I like it, by the way. Most people have robes or chains, but this is simple, funeral-ish.”

Robes and chains. Oh, he hated the days when he had to wear those. They were so heavy on him, a personal punishment. The burden of the metal was the burden of his purpose, a constant reminder. And the hood, it always shrouded his line of vision. He was glad it wasn’t as popular as it was hundreds of years ago, otherwise he would be forced to wear it now.

“I’m not the Grim Reaper,” he clarified. “I’m his son.”

“I didn’t know he had one. So you’re Death Junior, then? I can call you that if you like it.”

Junior, he thought. June-e-er.

He nodded his head slowly. It wasn’t much of a name, more of a title.

“You live around here?”

He nodded again. It wasn’t the full truth, but if you were going to be here often then so would he.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you again. Have a nice day, Junior.”

You smiled, again, and picked up your pace, heading down the trail. Within a minute you were out of view, and he felt an odd feeling rise in his heart. This was not enough. He needed more. To at least just be in your presence.

He adjusted the grip on his scythe and followed after you. No one gave him so much as a look, which all the more validated his decision like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But even if he was, he still found it okay. It was his curiosity, his innocence, that led him to your small apartment, maybe even a hint of longing, an ache.

For the entire night, he watched as you bathed, dressed, cooked, and finally, went to sleep, with the television on in the background. Apart from observing your essence of being, he wondered what it would be like to be there with you. To help you scrub yourself down with soap, take your clothes down to the laundry room and fold them, help you with dinner, feel your embrace in bed. 

Junior, he thought again. Maybe it was like a name. A name you had given him. Maybe one day this Junior could be just like you. With you, with the girl who could see him.

Taglist: @shroombloom-rry @madnessandobsession @henrywintersdearestgirl @hllywdwhre @your-nanas-house @ellebelleshelby @meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

#death junior #death junior x you #death junior x y/n #death junior x reader #fanfiction #at death's door #pinguwrites

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 3)

part 1 here | part 2 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Eddie is a superstitious person, always has been. Avoids cracks in the sidewalk, refuses to walk under ladders. Says ‘bless you’ despite his lack of goddamn faith (well… scratch the god, keep the damn). That’s why, when Eddie wakes up at 11:11 that morning, he takes it as a sign. A good one too.

Okay yeah, it’s a little gross that he didn’t wake up until now. But he spent most of the night tossing and turning. A thirstfest visual loop of Steve Harrington jerking it to him. Or just his voice. Maybe both, but Eddie would be a conceited fuck if he were to ask for clarity on Steve’s preferred fantasies.

Look, he makes a lot of digs about his appearance because it’s harmless fun. In reality, Eddie is aware that he’s not an un-attractive person. Could he put a little more effort into his skincare routine so that it doesn’t peel off of him anytime he’s in direct sunlight? Sure. But his features are decent enough to get him matches on that dating app he used for exactly four days before deleting. 

Steve, though… Steve is something conjured up by a young adult novelist - creating the dreamiest boytoy for the angsty yet endearing protagonist. Steve is that. He’s something from a fictional world of hotness. And somehow, he exists beyond coffee-stained manuscripts and bestseller lists.

He’s real. And Eddie Munson has a fucking date with him in exactly eight hours.

Holy shit.

It takes two hours for Eddie to decide on an outfit. He facetimes his audio engineer/closest friend after the first hour, because his room is starting to look like an M. Night Shyamalan adaptation of Grey Gardens. 

“Show me the jean options again.” Chrissy’s tone is all business, staring intently on the other side of the phone screen. 

They met at an escape room right outside of the city. After setting a record-breaking time at that location, they got to chatting and quickly discovered they were both in the audio production business. 

Each of them lives the freelance lifestyle now. Highly ideal for their competitive escape room fixation.

Eddie holds up the three pairs of jeans. One pair is his favorite, well-worn and loose around his thighs, just how he likes them. The other two, are pairs that Chrissy bought for him last Christmas.

Lets just say… he only wears those when she’s offering to pay for dinner on their weekly hangouts. 

She hums for a while, twisting her mouth side to side before speaking again. “The dark blue with the gray crew neck. Final answer.”

“These?” Eddie holds the skinny jeans up to his hip bones. He tugs on the waistband to show how very little movement will be possible in these pants. “My dick cannot breathe in these, Chris. It’s like you want me to embarrass myself on this date.”

“I’m doing you a favor.” She shrugs, concealing a smirk behind her water bottle as she takes a sip. “Those pants are so snug, he’ll have no choice but to get you out of them as soon as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I put out on the first date?

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.”

“I’m insinuating you put it in on the first date.”

“How dare you.” Eddie points at his phone screen. Sucks in his laughter because yeah. Props. That was a good one. He can’t admit that though because no part of him wants to wear these boa constrictor jeans.

“You were just telling me how you fucked him with your words last night.”

“Fair. But I also explained that I was clearly possessed by the spirit of Blanche Devereaux.” Eddie slips out of his lounge tee, pulls over the one Chrissy picked out for him instead. “I swear, that woman had quite the knack for dirty lingo.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes and gives Eddie a halfhearted salute. “And that’s my exit cue.”

“What? Why?”

“Because anytime you bring up Golden Girls, we start arguing over who would play them in the gender-swapped remake.”

Wrong. Totally false. There’s absolutely no argument to be had. Eddie knows exactly who he’d cast right off the top of his head. Joe Pesci, Michael Caine…

Chrissy must see the gears turning in Eddie’s head because she hangs up before he can launch into his well-rehearsed presentation. Which isn’t a joke, he has a PowerPoint on this particular topic (with cited sources and fancy transitions).

Eddie does one last glance in the mirror before heading out. The pants make his waist look slender, nice. His skin is being squeezed in too many areas, but that’s kind of the point. At least the shirt is loose, albeit a little short. Reveals a patch of his lower tattoos every time he lifts his shoulders.

Okay damn, Chrissy probably knew that too. Maybe she’s the one possessed by the horny spirit of Blanche Devereaux. 

Spiritual possession or not, Eddie ruffles out his bangs one last time. Heads out feeling much more confident than he did after his initial interaction with Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees to pick Steve up at his last photoshoot of the day. It’s close to his side of town, which means he doesn’t have to fight his way through LA traffic. 

A good sign sent from his lucky wake-up time, no doubt.

He doesn’t expect the photoshoot to be at an amphitheater, but it is. A small one, probably only used for local productions. There’re cameras lining the outer rim of the stage, shuttering and flashing like headlights on a highway. Eddie can hear the director and photographers spewing directions from his car. There’s an audience of producers and crew members, seems like a big fucking deal by the looks of it.

The set is, well, breathtaking - way better than that knockoff fantasy shit from the cologne ad. It’s full of greenery. Trees swaying with the breeze and ivy carpeting the stage floor. A forest that’s almost too beautiful to be synthetic. Eddie wonders if any of the plants are real or if the props department was just that damn good at finding fake ones.

After a few minutes, he checks the time. The shoot is running long. No biggie - Eddie is enjoying the view anyways. Especially, when he finally spots Steve. The view is exceptionally priceless now.

Steve perched on top of a tree trunk, feeding some other model grapes. The dark and stupidly jealous part of Eddie hopes they choke on those grapes. 

His costume almost blends in with the backdrop, dark hues of green. Subtle shades of browns. Perfectly camouflaged by nature. There are vines wrapped around his bare arms, leaves tucked into his tousled hair. 

Honestly, he looks a lot like a wood nymph that Eddie would selfishly design for a DnD campaign. Better, actually. Eddie should take notes. Steal the designer's sketches when nobody's looking.

He’s positively itching to get out of his car, get a closer look at Steve in all his botanical glory. But that might come across as too impatient. Or worse, too presumptuous. So Eddie picks one of his lengthier playlists and settles into his seat.

There’s a tap on Eddie’s window, startling him out of his nap. He must’ve dozed off about twenty minutes ago because the last song he remembers listening to was from the mid-90s section of the playlist. Now, they’ve moved into early 2000s territory.

Seriously, math is way easier when music is leading the equation.

Steve is right there, peering in, still tapping incessantly. His eyes are wide, concerned maybe. Which, yeah. Concern makes sense, considering his date is yawning before the date has even started. Fucking yikes.

Eddie rolls down the window, gives Steve a toothy grin as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Heya, FernGully.”

Steve doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s costuming reference. Probably missed out on that era of cult classic cartoons. “Up late?” He leans against the car and smiles, far more dazzling than the sun setting behind him.

“You would know.”

Oh, and that earns Eddie a wink from Steve. The nun-converting wink he saw months ago and still thinks about.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve reaches into the empty space, pushes the latch down to unlock the front door. “Come on.”

“Uh-”

“I’ve gotta change before we head out.” Steve swings the door open before Eddie can protest.  “Unless you want to have dinner with me dressed like this.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

If there were a Renaissance Festival in town or a Medieval Dinner Show still in business, Eddie would definitely trick his way into getting Steve to go dressed like that. But he tucks the idea away for now, walks down the hill with Steve to the amphitheater. Does his best impression of a civilized human.

“So… what are you supposed to be exactly?”

Steve points to the body glitter on his cheeks. “A fairy.”

Yup. A new file of woodland fantasies starring Steve Fairyington have downloaded into Eddie’s mind. If voice acting didn’t pay so well, he could make an impressive career out of his whimsical porn concepts.

So he deflects. Humor is the only solution to keep the conversation PG-rated. “Just because you’re into guys doesn’t mean you’ve gotta use outdated terms like that.”

“You know what I mean.” Steve knocks an elbow into Eddie’s arm. “I’m a literal fairy.”

“Are you implying that literal fairies exist?” Eddie teases.

“No.”

“Seems like it.”

“Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”

“I can tone it down.”

Steve stops walking, places a hand in the center of Eddie’s chest to stop him too. His playful energy fucking warps into something new. Savory and seductive. Bewitching.

“Don’t even think about it.” He answers, slipping his hand down a little, almost between Eddie’s ribs. The motion sends static through Eddie’s core, up his spine. Raises the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck.

It shouldn’t be alarming that Steve’s touch is powerful. Look at him. 

Eddie has a hard time focusing on the conversation after that. Luckily, the timing works out for him to get his shit together, as Steve heads into the trailer that's parked next to the stage.

He tells Eddie he can take a closer look at the set that he suddenly can’t seem to shut up about. It really is stunning. The size, the details, the color choices. Eddie is fairly certain this is the closest he’ll ever be to experiencing Endor in real life.

Most of the crew members are gone, a few still packing up equipment while Eddie observes a variety of plants used for decorating the wooden platforms. Learns that some plants are real and some are fake, which is actually genius. The mixture of the two distract from the plastic-y finish on some of the vines.

“This is for a special-edition cover of some Shakespeare script.” Steve says, joining Eddie at his side. His outfit is rather colorful. It checks out that he's one of the few people that can pull off a purposeful athleisure aesthetic (Eddie hates that he knows what that style looks like, ugh). “Hence the fairies and forests and shit.”

“Wait.” A lightbulb goes off in Eddie’s head. “Is this for A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“That’s the one.”

Eddie does a sharp turn, starts shaking Steve by his shoulders. Absolutely bursting with excitement. “Steve literal fairy Harrington, this is ridiculously cool! Like… the history-making kind of cool!”

“If you say so.” Steve agrees calmly.

“How the hell are you not more jazzed about this?”

“You sound just like my manager.” Steve mumbles. “Truth be told, the only Shakespeare play I’ve ever read is Macbeth.”

Eddie gasps, sucks in enough air to fill an inflatable kiddie pool. “We’re on a stage, you can���t just blurt out the Scottish Play like that.”

This is not good. Horrible, even. Not a damn chance that Eddie can be mellow about this. Superstitious person, believer of traditions, blah blah blah. 

And while hiding that piece of his personality should be a simple task, he cannot blatantly ignore such a major fuckup on Steve’s part. No matter how accidental of a fuckup it might have been.

“Okay, what are you talking about?” Steve asks. Still calm. 

“It’s bad luck.” Eddie explains. “The closest thing to cursing a theatrical production.”

“Well, good thing this isn’t a theatrical production then.”

And as Steve laughs off the thoughtless joke, a loud thud is heard at the back of the stage. 

There it is. A warning of impending doom in the form of a loose stage light, hanging by a few loose wires. 

Almost everyone is gone, only two crew members remain on the sidelines. One of them gets on their walkie talkie, mumbles something about a safety hazard incident.

Pfft, not just an incident. A fucking threat from the ghost of theater, that’s what it is.

“See?” Eddie waves both arms at the light structure swinging upstage. “You’ve pissed off Thespis with your loose lips.”

“Who?”

“Oh my god, you’re so-” 

A high-pitched scream cries out from a nearby street. Both Steve and Eddie jump at the sound. It’s a long, frightening scream. Something straight out of a slasher film, which is a likely possibility, for sure. Things are filmed out on the streets of Los Angeles quite a bit.

But the fear ringing out from this particular scream sounds real. Gritty and hoarse.

Fucking terrifying. 

Once the screaming stops, no sign of returning, they share a look. It’s not an ‘I’m gonna jump your bones’ look either. It’s awkward. A fine line between guilt and ‘I told you so.’

“That was just a coincidence.” Steve waves off the scream like it’s just a daily occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Curses aren’t real.”

Eddie doesn’t want to shout ‘you’re wrong’ from his metaphorical megaphone. Not on a first date, at least. Outright dogmatic behavior shouldn’t come into play until like… the end of the third date.

All he can do is shrug, swallow back the urge to correct this beautiful person standing beside him.

He’s so rigid now, almost timid from the lingering anxiety that more freaky shit is about to happen. 

“Come here.” Steve motions his head to the side, peering softly at Eddie’s expression. His shoulders are relaxed, arms reaching out for Eddie to follow. Join him.

Which he does. Can’t help it. Fully dazed by Steve’s patience, legs moving without a chance to reconsider.

“Wanna get out of here?” Steve thumbs over Eddie’s cheek, skims his nail against the scratchy bits of stubble along Eddie’s jaw. His movements are slow, precise. Only a smidge of pity in his smile. 

Yup. That’s what this must be - Steve probably thinks Eddie is being dramatic. Must assume he can smooth over Eddie’s knotted nerves by just touching him. Tracing hypnotic patterns over his skin.

Eddie is mildly irritated that it’s working. If he can’t find the strength to look away from Steve’s sunny-tinted eyes soon, he’ll float away. Slip through the air as particles. Dust. Nothing but his slutty wishes will remain.

“Not yet.” Eddie gulps.

“No?”

He can’t in good conscience let this theater stay plagued by Steve’s words. This place is on verge of being the location for a Final Destination sequel.

So Eddie removes Steve's hand from his face, squeezes once before returning it back to Steve’s side. “Gotta reverse the fuck out this bad omen first.”

“There’s no such thing as-”

“Don’t.” He pleads. “Put my superstitious mind at ease. Can you do that for me?”

Steve at least has the decency to look away while he rolls his eyes. Pretty and considerate. “Fine. How do I break the curse?”

Eddie has spent enough time in theaters to know there’s a few variations on this process. Changes from director to director. The most common one is going outside and spinning in a circle three times, then knocking on the door till someone lets you back inside.

But that’s where the problem comes in. They’re already outside and there’s no door to knock on, while pleading for forgiveness.

Hmm…

It’s a good thing Eddie remembers a few adjustments to the protocol. It’s an even better thing that he was captain of his improv troupe for three years back in college. Thinking of solutions on the spur of the moment? Adapting for the sake of the scene? Eddie lives for that shit. Comedy fucking chameleon, that’s him.

And what’s better than all of that? His leftover luck from waking up at 11:11am.

Guess it pays off to be a superstitious person. Sometimes.

Eddie clears his throat, delivers the instructions with a southern drawl. Fucks around with it because he can. “So first, you have to walk around the theater three times.”

“Okay.”

“Backwards.” That’s definitely not part of the procedure, but oh well. Steve doesn’t have to know that.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules, gorgeous.”

Except he does make the rules. Currently having way too much fun watching Steve squirm at the stupidity of it all. He’s quickly learning how easy it is to push Steve’s buttons. That shouldn’t be so thrilling for him but whoops. It is.

“Whatever.” Steve kicks a piece of gravel off the stage and sighs. “Then what?”

So he wants more? Eddie can do that. “You have spit on the ground to show your remorse.” 

“This is a bunch of shit.”

“I said spit, not shit.” Eddie leans into Steve’s ear, uses his studio voice, watches as Steve turns pink all over. He lowers the volume down to a whisper. “Try to keep up.”

“Asshole.” But there’s a grin plastered all over Steve’s face as he grumbles. Eddie’s chest is fizzing, total carbonated joy inside him knowing that Steve is a vicious little monster, just like him.

He shoos Steve off to complete the reversal process. Sits on the edge of the stage, legs dangling over the rim, fingers fidgeting with a thread on his jeans.

He’s so smug, watching the prettiest boy on the planet become the grumpiest goofball. Steve might look like an angel, but he has the aura of a full-bred Pomeranian left in the rain.

“I’m making a new rule!” Steve shouts from the back of the theater. 

“How ambitious of you!”

Eddie swears he can hear Steve growling in response, which fuck, that shouldn’t be such an adorably hot combo. But Eddie pictures the curve of Steve’s upper lip as he snarls and the zigzag of his arched eyebrows, and that’s exactly what it is. Hot. Adorable. Sensational.

Steve Harrington is a game of Mad Libs. Every adjective, every word that invokes head rushes and heart flutters, they’re all about him.

“As I was saying before you rudely mocked me,” Steve is in Eddie’s peripherals now, still stepping backwards. Toe to heel, hands loosely in his pants pockets. Not fair that he can make walking backwards look slick and cool. The nerve, the gall. “My new rule is that I get to ask you a question each time I get to the front.”

Eddie pulls one knee up to his chest, lets his chin rest over top of it. “Well then... ask away, o’ cursed one.”

Steve stops at the front of the stage. He doesn’t turn all the way around or start walking forward again. He turns just enough to look at Eddie. Focusing on him.

The sudden attention to Eddie’s face gets him all stuffy. He tries to hide the color that’s surely settled on his cheeks by digging one side of his face into his kneecap. It’s a dopey move. Too bashful, even for him.

“Alright.” Steve says. “How do you know so much about theater?”

An easy question with an easy answer. Relief surges through Eddie. “Most voice actors start out as stage actors. Not always, but a lot of us do. Gotta start somewhere, ya know?”

“Yeah. I know.” Steve nods, and continues with his second lap.

Once his footsteps are far away enough for Eddie to think properly, it dawns on him - they’re getting to know each other. Like authentic people would do.

Like… an actual date.

Shit, it’s been so long since someone in this artificial fucktown has wanted to know things about Eddie beyond hookups and screenames. A genuine moment was right in front of him, and he almost missed it.

That sobers him up. Eddie shoves away his need to Cause Chaos and accepts the sincerity. Gives it right back to Steve. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How did the modeling gig start?”

“Agents found my instagram again.” Steve replies. “Liked my pictures enough to offer me some shitty jobs to build up my resume. The usual story these days.”

“Right.” 

Eddie can’t fathom being that attractive. So attractive that people seek him out. 

Different worlds is an understatement. Different realms is more like it.

“Next question.” Steve says, arriving to the front again. “Would you rather visit the beach or the mountains?”

Eddie has to think about that one for a minute. He doesn’t take many vacations, can’t afford to on a single artist’s income.

But he remembers a trip to Colorado that he took as a teenager. Vaguely recalls not appreciating any of the landscapes because he was too busy texting his new girlfriend during the whole damn trip.

“The mountains.” Eddie answers, just as Steve begins to walk again. “The Rockies and I have some… unfinished business, if you will.”

Steve chuckles. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“Definitely.”

“Maybe I’ll get to hear it sometime.”

“If you want.” Eddie says, beaming at the implication. 

Steve’s footsteps stop. “Like I said on the phone, Eddie. Hearing you talk is...” The Earth feels silent. But the tension in Eddie’s ears is audible. “Well… I'm into it, I guess.”

Eddie has to switch knees to ease the thump in his dick. “And is Steve Harrington a mountain man or a beach bum?” 

“Depends on the season.”

“Such a diplomatic answer.” Such a vague answer too, Eddie thinks. 

“Okay. Last question.” Steve arrives at the front, shorter of breath than he was the first two laps. He hesitates for a second, then takes a couple of steps towards Eddie. “All those tattoos you have… did getting them done hurt?”

“Like a bitch.” Eddie bunches up his shirt to show off the sleeve of ink he has on his left arm. Took years for it to look this intricate. This complete. He’ll never get tired of staring at it. “Why? Itching to get one or something?”

“Nah. Never got the appeal of putting yourself through hours of pain or whatever.”

“It’s all about the art. The memories. The stories.” Eddie stretches out his bent knee. Lets it drop back down, relaxing into his explanation. “All of those things stitched into designs that I get to admire every damn day for the rest of my life.”

“Art, huh?” Steve takes a few steps closer, close enough to touch.

“What can I say?” Eddie is shamelessly studying the specks in Steve’s eyes. How all the colors blend and separate the closer he gets. Can hear himself grinning as he speaks. “I’m a big fan of gazing at pretty things.”

He’s so tempted to reach out, pull Steve in. Have him straddle his waist while they taste each other for hours.

But he’s still mooning over those eyes - the ones that deserve myths and legends to be told about them for ages. Centuries. Whichever is longer.

“Um.” Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his spell. “So… spit?”

“Sorry what?”

“The curse.” Steve says. “I’m supposed to spit on the ground, yeah?”

“Right, yeah. Uh huh.”  Eddie rambles, still internally choking on the fact that Steve just said spit to him. In public.

Steve backs away, puts some space between them. He begins making this nasty, gravelly side with his mouth. His jaw sags slightly as he does it, the lump in his throat bobbing the whole time. 

Eddie gawks, fully unable to look away while Steve swishes the spit around. Filling one cheek, then the other. He’s getting harder with every noise, every swish.

All at once, Steve forcefully hocks the stream of spit onto the ground. It goes diagonally, lands way closer to Eddie than he was expecting. Gets some goddamn distance, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll back. He’s pretty sure he lets out a wobbly ‘fuck’ at how obscene it all looks.

Steve wanders back over, avoids stepping in the wet mess he made on the ground. He places a hand on Eddie’s knee, works his way up the rough edges of denim.

Eddie’s vision is still spotty from what he just witnessed, so he decides to talk until everything clears up. Steve is into that right? The talking bullshit?

“There’s one more step to complete this.” Eddie watches the blurry outline of Steve’s hand rubbing his thigh, slowly blinking the image into full focus.

“And what’s that?” Steve’s voice is low, eyes fixed on Eddie’s mouth.

“You gotta…” Eddie licks his lip. Places a hand over top of Steve’s. Moving where it moves. Going where it goes. Buys himself some time to get the words straightened out. “You gotta kiss the nearest sewer rat loser.”

“And if I don’t do that?” Steve leans in till their noses touch. “Then what? The curse won’t be broken?”

Eddie nods. Only able to give a thin ‘mhmm’ in reply. He wraps two fingers around Steve’s wrist, the hand that's still trailing heat along his thigh. Needs to press against the pulse there, feel it jump. Spike.

Steve is so quiet. So controlled compared to his pulse. “Can’t have that then, can we?”

His lips part, hovering over Eddie’s mouth. The kiss starts out like that. Lips treading, only meeting between breaths. Neither of them pushing for more than seconds of warm contact, brief and sweet. 

That is until Steve’s free hand starts twisting into Eddie’s shirt, tugging him along by the soft fabric. Eddie sinks forward, dives fully into the kiss. He holds his breath or maybe it just gets caught in his lungs from how good it all feels. How Steve touches him like he's captured. How Steve kisses him like he’s dessert.

Eddie can't help but smush their lips together, forcing their faces closer than faces can scientifically be. He hears the wet smack of their tongues echoing underneath the amphitheater, waking his lungs the fuck up. Lets out the weakest sigh, hopes most of the sound gets trapped between Steve’s lips. 

Oh god, his lips. They’re fuller than Eddie’s, puffier now from kissing this hard. He wants to squish them around with his fingers, push them into pout so he can suck on them. Turn them nice and red. Eddie gets his hands tangled in Steve’s hair, knots them up enough to resist the lip-squishing temptation that’s burning him up inside.

“Here.” Steve exhales, hooks one of Eddie’s legs around his waist. 

That… okay, fuck. That’s so hot, so unexpectedly assertive and right. Eddie takes the hint, wraps his other leg around Steve. The heel of his scuffed boots is digging into Steve’s ass, not too hard, but enough to earn a dirty whine out of Steve. He pushes them together, clothes rubbing back and forth, scratching loudly. Muffles their mouth noises though.

“Can we…” Eddie wants to move this elsewhere, anywhere less public. He’s so fucking selfish for that. Needs to swallow every sound Steve makes, secure every expression with a lock. Nobody else should be allowed to see Steve like this besides Eddie.

He lets one hand unravel from Steve’s hair, glides down to the collar of Steve’s tank top. He yanks the material lower, presses his lips against the new area of exposed skin. Sips and sucks over that spot, claims it like he could extract a piece of Steve’s soul if he sucks hard enough.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Steve responds, whimpering into the top of Eddie’s hair. Not entirely clear if he’s saying that out of pleasure, or agreeing with Eddie that they should relocate, but whatever. It's all too good to overthink the meaning.

Eddie unhooks his legs and kisses the deep purple mark he just made. Too fucking proud how easily the color spreads into reddish tones around the edges. 

His vision goes fuzzy again as he stands upright, has to blink away all the white specks of dizzy lust. Eddie offers a hand to Steve, but there’s no damn point for that. Steve is already hopping up onto the stage, makes it look effortless. Cool as shit.

“Follow me.” Steve grabs the crook of Eddie’s forearm, pulling him into the forested scenery.

As if there were any need for Steve to request that. Eddie Munson would follow Steve into the sketchiest alleyway of Hell, if it meant they could kiss like that some more.

They duck underneath a few tree limbs, weave through the maze of green. A few leaves get into Eddie’s mouth, but he hardly notices anything besides the dent that Steve’s fingernail is leaving in his arm. It would make the sickest crescent moon tattoo, inked and perfectly shaped. 

Damnit, Eddie’s thoughts are getting more fucked the deeper they hide. Steve slams Eddie against the trunk of a large tree. He realizes with the thud on his back that it’s plywood, not tree bark. Doesn’t care one bit if his shirt tears from the nails jutting out. Cares even less if he gets splinters from the slow grinding of their hips, hitching his shirt up further with every thrust.

“These are sexy.” Steve tugs at Eddie’s empty belt loop. Didn’t need an actual belt with how suffocating they are. “But they’ve gotta go. If that’s cool.”

“Get them the hell out of here.” Eddie is subconsciously thanking Chrissy for suggesting these stupid pants. She’ll be insufferable when he tells her about the jean's success rate. But right now? Worth it.

Anything seems worth it to have Steve popping the button out, ripping the zipper down. He’s so focused on getting these pants off that his forehead wrinkles, little beads of sweat gathering on his temples. 

Eddie can’t resist any longer, not after seeing Steve equally covered in desperation. He palms the front of Steve’s pants, wants to give him some relief for this valiant jean-removing effort.

“Steve.” Eddie huffs, brushes his lips over Steve’s ear. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.” He bites over the skin, nibbling carefully with the tip of his teeth.

It must tickle because Steve laughs while shrugging the jeans lower, boxers going with them. 

“So tell me then.” He kisses Eddie. It’s harsh, mostly panting into his mouth. Steve sinks to the floor and looks up. “Keep talking.”

This. This goddamn view. Eddie wasn’t expecting to get a view of Steve on his knees tonight. Wasn’t expecting his head to go limp, looking up at Eddie the way he eyefucked the camera on the day they first met. 

Only difference is, Steve’s not acting - not pretending to be needy.

He just is. He’s all of those coy and sinful things, exclusively for Eddie this time.

“Spit in my hand.” Steve stretches his hand up towards Eddie’s chin - gives him those big, midnight eyes that could make dormant volcanoes erupt instantly. Defy physics, end climate change. 

Eddie doesn’t use brain cells anymore, just does what he’s told. He gathers enough spit in his mouth, then watches it trickle out. Pooling in the center of Steve’s hand. It’s gross, sure. But also, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done. 

Gross and hot. Those sensations are fucking synonymous right now.

“Tell me, Eddie.” Steve gets his fingers around Eddie’s cock, the warm wetness makes it twitch in his hold. Apparently, no part of Eddie’s anatomy can believe this is really happening, not even his dick.

“Uh-”

“You said you’ve thought about it.”

“Lots.”

“So tell me while I get you off.”

“Oh.. god, okay.” And Eddie is good at that. Talking nonstop. Revealing all of his filthy secrets when asked so politely. He did it last night, slipped into his darker persona with ease so Steve could feel good.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? Eddie would say a flurry of fuckery for Steve Harrington’s approval. Get him to come until he shakes because Eddie wants that. Wants Steve to feel like liquid gold dripping between his fingers. Wants Steve to bend and break under his words and touch.

Talking dirty to get himself off is new territory. Eddie is a perpetual giver, loves being that way most of the time. Especially for someone as spectacular as Steve.

“Go ahead, babe.” Steve urges, licks the muscle of Eddie’s inner thigh till it tightens.

Right, he can do this. Even if he is short of breath. Eddie can be as confident as he was last night while Steve strokes him. “Thought about you since the commercial production.”

It’s a start. He bites his lip and keeps going. “All I could think about was… fuck. Opening you up. Leaving my fingerprints on your hips.”

“What else?” Steve purrs, working Eddie roughly with his spit-slick fingers. Sounds just as ruined as Eddie does.

“Wanted to fuck you in my lap.” Eddie pauses to moan, chest falling hard. He gets another glimpse of Steve’s hand on him, picking up the pace. A tempo so delicious that it shuts off Eddie’s judgment skills. His mouth running wild. “Let you ride me just like that. Use me till your legs go weak.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. His grip gets a little firmer, loosening up between strokes. Makes a fucking pattern out of it, has Eddie craving it. Needs more.

“And what if I wanted to fuck you, huh?” Steve’s question hits his ears like a whip. Cracking every nerve in Eddie’s body.

“I’d let you.” And it’s true, so very true. Eddie’s mouth is still going rogue, uttering truths like he’s on trial. Ready to testify all his desires to Steve. Sign his name on the dotted fucking line. “You could wreck me any way you want, sweetheart.”

Eddie seems to have found the secret words to Steve’s wild side. He’s taking Eddie down his throat, almost too fast. So fast that drool forms at the corners of his stretched lips, mouth gurgling already.

Eddie is swearing, not even real words half the time - just moans that sound explicit enough to get bleeped out on public access television. One hand goes over his own mouth while the other keeps combing through Steve’s hair.

It’s so damp now, sticking out erratically at the sides. Eddie curls a few strands over his thumb, watches the color drain from his finger. So demented, so good.

Steve is taking his cock so damn well, so Eddie tells him. Truly, all that he’s capable of is sex-drunk praise. Letting Steve know how gorgeous he is, how bruised his throat will be from sucking this much cock, how swollen and sore his lips look at this angle.

Eddie can’t stop because every phrase makes Steve get messier. Whining and whimpering each time he pulls off. Looking up at Eddie before taking him in again. Getting louder. Loud enough that sidewalk pedestrians definitely could hear him if they linger nearby for too long.

Eddie's knees buckle as he gets close. Doesn't have the energy to straighten back out, let alone warn Steve that he’s about to come. None of that seems to matter though. Steve nods twice, still bobbing around Eddie, like he just knows. Knows Eddie is there and is fucking willing to work him through it.

“Holy fuck, Steve.” Which yeah, Eddie gets it. Uttering someone’s name while he comes in their mouth is a little tacky and cliche. But saying it is involuntary, totally out of his control. Truthfully, Eddie relinquished all control to Steve hours ago.

Steve swallows, cleans Eddie with a few swipes of his overworked tongue like it’s nothing. No problamo. Like that’s the only way to handle the aftermath of an orgasm. In the most delightful way, or whatever musical shit Mary Poppins sings about. 

He gives the laziest, dreamiest grin as Eddie collapses down to his level. Both of them heaving, kissing with aching lungs. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Eddie whispers, brushes his knuckles over Steve’s pink-stained cheeks. Hopes his rings don’t hurt too much, absently forgetting how chunky they are.

Steve leans into the small touch. “Glad to hear it.”

“You’re fantastic.” Eddie clarifies. Means it more than any superstition he’s ever heard in his life.

He’s more than ready to get his hands all over Steve, make him come until he faints. But Steve is adamant that he’s chills with waiting. Says he actually enjoys the buildup from staying horny for hours and hours. Mentions something about that being a new discovery that he wants to explore. 

With Eddie. 

Steve fucking Harrington wants to explore new sides of himself with Eddie. That sends him reeling. Smitten and spiraling.

“Are sure?” Eddie paws at Steve’s hard-on, ready to jump in and save the day via orgasm.

“Very sure.” He lifts Eddie's hand away, snickering as he lays a quick kiss on each finger.  “I like being around you. That’s not gonna change overnight.”

“Like being around you too, Steve.” He takes Steve’s face into his hands, smushes it back and forth until Steve smiles. “Crazy about it, actually.”

The sun is low, barely any light left in the sky. But as Eddie holds Steve’s face, watching him smile, he notices that Steve is glowing. Not beaming, actually glowing. Even through the dimness of sky and the shadows formed by tree limbs, Eddie can see all of Steve’s features.

How is that possible?

They each look up and see it. Taking it in, this mysterious glow.

“Wow.” They say in unison, almost matching pitch. Matching levels of disbelief too.

Between the branches and leaves, they are tiny lights. Floating, orb-like lights. The brightness shining off of them is warm, soft on the eyes. They’re scattered high over the forested backdrop, orange and yellow hues twinkling against rich greens. 

Enchanting is the only word to describe this new addition. Incredibly and unbelievably enchanting.

“Set designer really popped off with this cover shoot, I guess.” Steve throws the theory out there, barely sounds like he believes it himself.

Eddie rubs his eyes. His voice comes out hushed, doesn’t really mean for it to but it does anyways. “Steve… those aren’t attached to anything. No strings, no wires. They’re just-”

“Floating?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Be serious, dude.”

And Eddie is. Completely serious. No jokes or snarky replies in his system right now. He points to the nearest light, then back at Steve. “You broke the curse, right?”

“Apparently.” Steve shrugs.

“So maybe Thespis is showing his forgiveness.”

“Who the hell is Thespis?” Steve pinches the skin between his eyes and groans - acting like Eddie’s hypothesis is giving him a migraine. Honestly, it might be. Wouldn’t be the first time Eddie worked someone up to the point of desperately needing tylenol.

He switches tactics, nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder with his nose. Attempts to lighten the mood with at least one joke in these trying times of bad luck and headaches. “Or he’s giving us his blessing for copulating on his holy grounds.”

The lights answer, flaring out all around them. They pulsate for a minute, maybe two, before returning back to their normal glow. Eddie tucks in a grin because Steve’s gorgeous little head looks like it’s about to detonate off of his gorgeous little body. So if he smiles right now, Steve will undoubtedly explode on this very flammable set piece.

Which would be a wicked awesome way to die. Post-orgasm, then up in flames. But alas, they have dinner reservations. It would be rude not to show up.

Really, it’s no surprise to Eddie that the ghost of theater is into partial voyeurism, signaling his approval with twinkling lights. Semi-public sex probably classifies as its own unique strand of performing art in Ancient Greece.

Or the dead dude is just into taboo stuff. 

If so, good for him. You do you, Thespis.

“Look.” Steve says, standing up. “Maybe it’s… an optical illusion.”

“Or magic.”

Steve lets out a deep sigh and offers his hand to Eddie. Pulls him up in one swift motion. Doesn’t let go of his hand afterward either. “How about we drop it and go get some dinner?”

Typically, Eddie is all about a verbal bloodbath. But Steve laces their fingers together, connects them in a way that has Eddie forgetting all about his need to be right. 

“Consider it dropped.”

The lights flicker out as they walk further away from the stage. And as they get into Eddie’s car, they go out entirely. Steve flicks on the radio, defaults to the classic rock station, which is playing “Magic” by The Cars.

“It’s a sign.” Eddie sings to the tune, poking a finger at Steve.

“Just drive, you big dork.” Steve swats him away, placing a hand on Eddie’s thigh while he drives. He turns up the volume, surprisingly knows every lyric by heart. Belts them out. Full on screams the parts he likes best.

Which Eddie totally can relate to. He wants to scream about all the parts he likes best about Steve. About their date that’s not even finished yet.

On their way to dinner, Eddie avoids the cracks on the sidewalk. On the drive home, he taps the roof of his car whenever he makes it through a yellow light at an intersection.

And when he drops Steve off at his apartment precisely at 11:11pm, he doesn’t say a damn word. Keeps his mouth shut, only opens it to kiss Steve goodbye (with tongue, obviously).

Sure, it’s just a dumb superstition, Eddie can admit that to himself.

But tonight… it feels like more than that.

More than a coincidence.

More than a good omen.

He sends a ‘got home safely’ text to Steve as he pulls into his designated parking spot. Totally obsessed with how fast Steve texts him back, it’s too fucking cute.

Steve: glad :) had a great time btw

Eddie: really?

Steve: yes *really*

Eddie: i had a great time too

He quickly taps the voice-record button before Steve can respond:

“Actually,” Eddie sneers. Uses the voice that Steve goes crazy for. “I had a magical time.”

Steve: ugh

Eddie: ;)

#steddie #steddie fic #this is inspired by the unhinged ao3 tag generator #thank you all for reading along on this series! #ao3 has alllll the tags if you're curious before reading #have a lovely day! xx

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron Imagine

Word count: 4.5 k (Longest fic I've ever written!!!)

Warnings: Illusions to smut, a lot of angst and heartbreak, and swearing. 18+ only Minors DNI

The italics are flash backs, so I hope this isn't too confusing to read!

Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing Sequined smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Life in outer banks was paradise, or at least it was supposed to be. Growing up, you had been blessed enough to be the rich side of the island and known as a kook. Your parents were pretty well off and you grew up next door to the Cameron’s. You had a good relationship with both of the kids, or you did anyways. You were never as high up on the popularity chain of politics at school as they were, but that didn’t keep you from fittings in with them.

Summer had just started; which meant that the first party of the year was creeping up that night. “What should I wear?” You were standing in your closet, eyes scanning the choices you had. You could wear an old band tee and a pair of jeans, or you could dress up a bit. But, that wasn’t really your style, it never had been. “Just wear your old nirvana tee, I love how that looks on you.” Your friends voice cemented your choice as you changed into the clothes, putting your makeup on. You were almost ready when you heard a gasp, your eyes lingering on your best friend as you waited for her to get on with the dramatics.

“Rafe is coming tonight.” The words hung in the air as you just clicked your tongue and tried not to think about what those words meant. “Do you still wanna go?” Reminders of the heart break the boy brought on filled your head as you swallowed thickly, thinking of if you wanted to deal with the feelings coming back. However, that slowly slipped out of your control as you skidded back into the recesses of your mind that had been taken up by the Cameron boy.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

"(Y/N), come on. Do you still wanna go or not?" Your friend stood in front of you, her keys dangling off her finger as she tried to get your attention. You didn't realize you had zoned out until she snapped you out of it, an embarrassed blush taking over your face as you nodded. "Yeah, sure. I deserve to get out for a bit."

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

As soon as you agreed, your friend could be heard cheering and taking your hand. She pulled you down to her car and quickly got in, driving towards the party.

She drug you inside, the sounds of kids cheering and music that was way too loud immediately filled your ears. The smell of weed and alcohol was impossible to ignore as the two of you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink, the two of you leaning against the counter to people watch. You saw some of your old friends and went over to talk to them, laughing and smiling.

Time felt like it was flying as you enjoyed yourself, your body moving to the music with your friends. You hadn't felt this free in what felt like ever and it was a refreshing feeling. "Oh, shit. Excuse me." You felt someone run into you and you turned to look at who it was, meeting an all too familiar pair of steely blue eyes. Your mouth opened to say something before it closed again, your eyes now landing on the girl standing next to Rafe. Sofia, of course. You just gave a small, tight lipped smile as you saw a flash of sadness in the boys eyes.

You pretended to ignore it as you turned to your friends, telling them you would be right back. You walked outside and sat by the pool at the party, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you heard your name being called from behind you. Why did he have to be here? Why? Why why why? The questions kept piling up in your mind as you let yourself remember when everything was simple and easy; when you were the girl attached to his hip. When you were the girl he pulled along with him at parties and showed off.

“Rafe, come on.” Your words were drug out as you tried to pull the man up off the couch, his Levi’s feeling scratchy against your bare legs. He just sat back, an amused smile on his lips as he let you continue to try and pry him off the couch. “Come on, sweetheart. Gotta try harder than that.” The smugness in his voice was all but aggravating as you threw your arms over your chest, crossing them in frustration.

The boy in front of you finally took the hint and got up, his hands finding yours with one as his other slid around your waist. He held you close, humming softly as he spun you around the kitchen. The two of you were best friends, or were you more? You didn’t know. The two of you just always acted like this and no one asked anything about it and you never had any doubts. He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in.

Just before he kissed you, his phone started ringing and it caused the both of you to jump apart. “Hey, Top.” He put the phone up to his ear and listened to the other boy, nodding and glancing at you as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Yeah, man. (Y/N) and I will be there.” He said goodbye and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Come to the bar with the guys and I.” You knew you didn’t have a choice, nodding as you ran to go change.

After the excitement of the night wore off you stood next to Rafe outside the bar, his arm thrown around your waist as he talked to Kelce. The alcohol was pumping through both of your veins, your eyes moving from the boy towering above you and the streetlight you were standing under. “Well, I gotta go. It was good to see you guys.” Kelce gave you a nod and a smile before he left, leaving you and Rafe to your own devices.

You leaned against the streetlight, a love drunk smile on your lips as you looked up at the boy who was now leaning against you. “What?” Your words were innocent and quiet as you felt Rafe’s hand slide up on your waist, his cold fingers on your waist as he leaned in to attach his lips to yours. He tasted like bourbon and cigarettes, the taste intoxicating as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair.

That was the first time you guys kissed, but it definitely wasn’t the last.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

“Rafe, do you wanna come home with me?” The girls words rang out in your head as you stood next to him at the party, a crushing feeling starting in the pit of your stomach and in your chest. You were right next to him. Didn’t she see you? Or did she just not care?

Your eyes ran over the girl, feeling a bit insecure. She clearly was higher up on the pyramid than your family when it came to money, her flashy jewelry and clothes making that obvious. She was pretty, very pretty in fact. But, Rafe didn’t seem bothered. He just shook her off and pulled you closer, smiling down at you as he leaned and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

You didn’t know what you were to Rafe. You didn’t know if the two of you were just best friends still, friends with benefits, or dating. You didn’t know. But, you knew he made you feel special. He made you feel important. “You’re all I ever need.”

A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Rafe was a player, you knew that from a best friend stand point and from the standpoint of just having a pair of eyes. He did not like to every commit to just one girl. "It's too boring." The conversation was one the two of you had a lot; especially when his hookups came whining to you about what was happening. It always slightly broke you, and you weren't sure if it was jealously or just seeing the sheer heartbreak these girls went through at the fingertips of someone you knew that well.

"I'm just playing the field until I find someone I want to really settle down with." His explanations always were an attempt at getting away with it. And for a while, you let them work. You would just apologize to the girls and go about your life. After all, you weren't his mom. You couldn't control him.

But, the game seemed to change once you got wrapped up in it. It didn't seem so fair anymore and guilt ate at your stomach; wondering who else was getting the same treatment you were. But, hey. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Surely not.

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I

Rafe sung in the shower, that was a tid-bit that you knew that not many other people did. But, as you sat on his bed and listened to his voice carrying out of the bathroom, the angelic tone mixing with the falling of the water, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

You got to see all of his quirks that he hid from the world because they didn't seem to be manly enough. For instance, anytime he took medicine he almost always gagged and he didn't like the feeling of scratchy sweaters. He was human, but it often got lost in the perfection act that he had to put on for everyone.

But, as the water stopped you got a maniacal idea and decided to try and scare your beloved best friend. You scampered out of bed and went to hide behind the door to his bathroom, praying that he didn't accidentally slam it on you as he walked past. "(Y/N)?" His voice was softer now that he was out of the shower and it wasn't vibrating off the walls, his blue eyes scanning his room for you.

You stood in your place, hand over your mouth to hide your giggles. However, it was fruitless and soon you were being pulled into his tight chest. His arms wound around your waist as he twirled you around, both of your laughter filling the room. "Put me down! You're getting me soaked!" You instantly regretted the words as soon as Rafe let out a signature chuckle and winked at you, setting you down on the floor. Your bare feet felt soft against the hardwood floor as you landed softly, his eyes meeting yours. "Oh, I can show you soaked." And with that, you were shoving his chest away with a huff. "You're so perverted."

That was your friendship with him. It was everything good and innocent until it wasn't. "Come with me to the bar this weekend." After he had gotten dressed the two of you were now laying in his bed, your head in his lap as he scanned through text messages. His eyes would dart down to you every once in a while, his eyebrows raising in a half question and half statement as you considered it. "Maybe I want you to suffer without me." It was a joke, and you both knew it. But, it was fun to push his buttons. A scoff left his pretty lips before a pout overtook it, blue irises boring into your soul. "Oh, come on. You can't possibly leave me with Kelce and Topper. You know how much of a vibe killer they are."

The words elicited a laugh from your lips as you nodded in a shared understanding, though you had love for all three of the boys, Rafe wasn't wrong. The weekends were usually spent with Topper whining about Sarah and Kelce whining about the new girl who he struck out with. You really needed to give them some pointers, but it always fell on deaf ears. They never believed any of your tips. "I'll only go if you say please." You moved to sit up, looking at him with a raised brow as you put the ball in his court. "You know that word is like poison. You're evil." Your shoulders shrugged as you crossed your arms over your chest. You weren't kidding, and he knew it. "Fine. Please come with me oh lovely (Y/N). I will simply die without your presence." His dramatics made you laugh and nod as you leaned in to kiss his lips, taking solace in the warmth and giddiness they provided.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleedin'

The weekend came and you kept your promise of accompanying Rafe to the bar downtown with the boys. But, you hardly even paid attention to what was happening with the other two. You and Rafe were lost in your own little world, his lips almost always at the shell of your ear as he whispered drunk nothings into it.

"You make me so damn happy." The words caused goosebumps to run along your entire body, your eyes daring to peak up into his. His pupils were blown, no doubt the cause of the liquor that he had been drinking since you had walked into the packed bar. But, there was an ounce of truth there that was so raw and so Rafe. He could be tough, he could be scary, but around you he was raw and real. Or, so you thought.

"Any man would be incredibly lucky to have you." His words were beginning to slur as he pulled you into a kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. The kiss got deeper and more passionate, your hands tangling in his hair and yanking slightly. This was perfect. It was everything you ever needed. "Let's go out to your truck." Your words were breathy and quiet as he gave you a knowing smirk. He took your hand and told Kelce and Topper he would be back; which earned a whistle and a wink from the other two. "Use a condom! We don't need anymore of you two." Oh, Kelce. Always the PTA mom when it came to you.

You brushed the two of them off as you walked out to the truck and Rafe helped you inside, the kisses shared enough to make your head spin. "I've never done this before." The words were a quiet and shameful confession as the kisses got more heated and the lines between friends and more started to blur. "I got you. Don't worry." His words were whispered into your neck as you felt euphoria start to take over. You had never felt anything like what Rafe was showing you right now. "You're so beautiful."

That was the night that Rafe took everything from you and you willingly let it happen. You let the lines blur, you let the alcohol and the pleasure take over your every instinct that was yelling at you this was dangerous. You knew he was a player, but maybe he was changing. Maybe he would want more after this. Maybe. Maybe..

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

Boy, you could not have been more wrong. After Rafe took your virginity that night, it seemed as if something clicked in his brain that you guys went too far. He was more distant and unavailable.

That was until Sofia came to town and Rafe fell for her hook line and sinker. He met her at a party and lit up like a little kid on Christmas. You had been standing with him, his arm against your waist as he kept his eyes trained on her. She was moving to the beat in a way that you couldn’t, her eyes locking with Rafe’s. She motioned him over; your stomach dropping as he pushed off the wall and seemed to happily oblige to her request.

His body molded into hers immediately, his lips finding hers as they swayed to the tone of the music together. It was sickening for you to watch, bile rising up in your throat as you decided to walk outside. However, he called after you and pulled the new girl over. "(Y/N), wait!" His voice stopped you in your tracks as you gave a fake smile, looking at him expectantly. "This is my best friend, (Y/N). We’ve been best friends since we were practically in diapers." Best friend. The words stung as you recalled the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the feeling of his arms around you. How was that just something best friends did? You knew it wasn't and you all but held back a sob.

"It's so nice to meet you! I'm Sofia." She held her hand out for you and you took it, giving the most awkward hand shake you had ever given. You gave the best fake smile that you could muster up before you excused yourself to go back to your friends.

Throughout the night you could feel his eyes on you as you danced with other guys, having fun despite the circumstances. “What do you think you’re doing?” You heard the all too familiar voice behind you as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms snaking around your waist. “I’m dancing and having fun. Where’s Sofia?” The words had a bite to it that you weren’t expecting, but as Rafe’s hips stilled you could tell you caught him off guard.

He licked his lips and turned you towards him, his eyes locking on yours. “She left. What’s with the attitude?” His eyebrows went up and knitted together as he looked you over and tried to read you like a book. He knew you like the back of his hand, or so he thought. He could tell you were upset, but he didn’t realize it was with him. He thought you were just a little buzzed and the alcohol was making you act weird. But, unfortunately for him he was reading the words on the page wrong and it would come back to bite him in the ass. “You we’re just hanging all over her and now you’re here hanging all over me. Is this a joke to you?” Your words exposed your hurt as you glared at the boy that you knew better than anyone, his eyes flashing with confusion.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

You left, sobbing as you shrunk down against your car outside. This was an absolute nightmare and it was affecting you deep to your core. This was a boy you’ve known for as long as you could remember. He was the one who wiped your tears when you fell. He was always there. "Friends forever." The words echoed in your head as you leaned your head back in frustration, cursing the words the two of you had sworn on as children.

That was the last time you had spoken to him, and now the wound was just as wide open as it was that day.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasin' shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standin' in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back

The sounds of the party had faded into the distance as you sat outside, head in your hands. Everything felt like it was a bad dream and you prayed that you could wake up from it. You wished you and Rafe had never started to get physical because that was when things got confusing. That was when feelings erupted and burst through the surface on your end. But, what if things had worked out? What if he had felt the same way about you?

The feeling of his lips still haunted your memory, a ghastly reminder of the impact the boy had on your life and your body. He was in your life for so long and then he was just gone, a faint memory of good times etched into your memory. It was like the faint smell of fire after a kegger, it lingered on your clothes and in your hair until you washed it off. But, it still always felt like it was there.

"He's an idiot for doing that to you. He'll be back once he realizes what he's missing out on." The talk you had with Sarah was resonating in your mind as you stared up at the stars of the backyard, their twinkling bringing a small sense of comfort as you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding.

"Hey." You swore you were hallucinating his voice and you actually prayed that you were. You didn't want to face him. You didn't want to see his pretty eyes, or see his shit eating grin that could light up the entirety of a room in an instant. No, that was your kryponite. That was the absolute thing that could make you break no matter what else was going on in your life. But, as you turned around and saw that exact sight, you knew you were in trouble.

"Shouldn't you be inside with your new girlfriend?" The words were pointed like a spear and you hoped it would wound him and cut deep. But, you knew he would never outwardly show if you did. However, the clearing of his throat was enough to show that they had at least pierced through the surface. "She's not my- That isn't important right now." You rolled your eyes as you stood up, looking up at his towering figure in front of you.

"Really, Rafe? Because she seemed pretty damn important when you completely forgot about me for her." Your voice was rising and you felt tears prickling at the waterline of your eyes, the big droplets falling down your cheeks. He was only back because he was bored of Sofia, you knew it. That had to be it. "She was a damn distraction." He was getting stressed, he was rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans in a way that he thought you wouldn't see. But, unfortunately for him you did. "A distraction from what?" You hated how you took the bait and you also hated how he was walking closer.

His movements were slow and cautious as his hand moved under your chin, tilting your head up to his. "You." The single word answer was not what you were expecting, confusion crossing your face as you tried to read his reaction. "I fucking fell for you and I was afraid of fucking it up." His voice was saying all the things you ever wanted to hear, and yet you couldn't take them at face value. He had taken your virginity and dipped. He had abandoned you. He had left, after everything he had told you. And, you weren't ready to forgive him. You didn't think you could do that yet.

You just chuckled and shook your head, taking a step back. "I chased the ghost of our friendship around a graveyard of memories for the last month, Rafe. I'm not ready to forgive you just because you come spewing words about falling for me. For all I know, it could be a lie." Your words were not what he was expecting, that was obvious by the look in his eyes.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" His words were almost laughable at the rate of desperation that they were bred out of. It was a scared look, it was a flashback to growing up together, it was the feeling in his chest whenever you were around. It was the happiness that your laugh brought him, the bottle of your perfume he always kept in his car, the clothes of yours he kept in his dresser drawer. It was everything, you were the sun and the moon and all the stars. You were the entirety of his universe and now you were pushing everything into a black hole because he fucked up. That, in itself was enough to feel like death to him and he hated the fact that he messed up this bad.

"I don't know, Rafe. I'll let you know if I ever figure it out. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a party to get back too." And with that he watched you walk away, your head high and proud and your tears no longer falling for the boy and what could have been. You knew this would be better. You knew you deserved more than feeling like second best. You deserved the world, and you weren't going to have it given to you on someone else's time.

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron angst #obx x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx angst #obx smut #obx fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #obx imagines #obx x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks angst

[static-fucking-mess]

Eddie couldn't help himself. He stared at Billy Hargrove sometimes; the gorgeous curls and wild grin lit something inside of him the first time Eddie had ever laid eyes on him.

Billy's plush lips sucking in the smoke from his Marlboro reds, broad shoulders, tight jeans. Eddie couldn't help himself from focusing on the way Billy's tongue flashed out to wet his lips as the smoke billowed off into the sky from his nose.

Billy washed into Hawkins and Eddie's life like a hurricane from California. His loud car, crashing music, and Eddie knew just from catching sight of him once that he wanted to know everything about him. He imagined if he got close enough he'd still be able to smell the ocean air on his sun kissed skin. He wanted to know his favorite bands, his thoughts on media, God he'd even sit through talking about cars if it meant Billy would look his way. (It wasn't like he wasn't interested, just that his own knowledge was limited to keeping his dinosaur of a van alive, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot. Not in front of Billy.)

Everything about Billy attracted Eddie to him. Eddie Munson had never considered himself shy. Fuck, he was a bit awkward about social boundaries, but he'd never felt shy before. Then, there were rarely ever new people that came to Hawkins to stay. And Billy made it clear that he had no intention of staying. Hawkins was small, and desperately choking on its shallow gene pool, in Eddie's opinion. Fresh faces were hard to find, especially ones that were willing to look his way, after all.

Billy hadn't been willing. To look his way, that was. He took to the social hierarchy like a wrecking ball, and sent it all asunder. King Steve seemed no more, Tommy and Carol seemed to fight more amongst themselves these days instead of making biting remarks at others. But Billy? He still wouldn't spare a breath on Eddie the Freak Munson.

Eddie had tried once.

He'd been utterly tongue tied in approaching Billy, picking at his sleeve. The two stood awkwardly behind the school dumpsters as they had their smoke break. Eddie's hand shook as he rolled his wrist, searching for the right words that refused to come.

"I really— I mean... fuck— sorry. Hold on. Uh—"

Billy's cool gaze slid up from where his zippo burned the cherry of his cigarette. He flicked his wrist to close his lighter before he tucked it away, utterly unimpressed. Eddie would probably be unimpressed with himself too. But damn; Billy Hargrove was a God carved of marble and gold, blessed by California sun. Eddie was a home grown weed from an Indiana backyard. His brown hair frizzy, unkempt, and his skin a touch oily from his aversion to water. It wasn't like he skipped showers because he wanted to. But in that moment Eddie felt painfully aware that Billy Hargrove was miles out of his league.

"Beat it," Billy grumbled at him. "I'm not in the business of making friends with people like you," he hissed. Those beautiful blues steeling into something dangerous that made Eddie's insides go cold. He swallowed back his words and the shaking in his hand seemed to intensify.

"No um... no that's. Fair. People like me?" Eddie inquired, head tipping a bit. He wanted to know just what part of his stigma had reached Billy first. He'd seen the saints necklace dangling in the open neck of his shirt. "The Satan worshipper? The freak?"

"Queers," Billy snapped. He looked at Eddie like a hostile and wild animal. Like his smiles were more reflective of the animal kingdom than the humanity he bore to charm others. Eddie swallowed dry air and dropped his gaze? Putting his cigarette out under his shoe.

"Right," Eddie affirmed. Billy had seen the way the guy looked at him. It was impossible to miss those dark, chocolate doe eyes when they lingered on him. It tickled the inside of Billy's ribs something real funny when he noticed Eddie in class. Distracted, but gazing his way like he was looking at art in a museum.

Billy was used to people lusting after him. He was hot, and god he knew it. He utilized it more often than he probably should have, but his good genetics in the physical appearance department had gotten him into, and out of a lot of trouble.

But Eddie wasn't lusting.

Eddie looked like he was trying to figure him out. Wondering at him. And that was dangerous. Because Billy had caught himself wondering too. What calloused hands would feel like holding down his wrists, or what those pouty lips would feel like stealing the breath off his. Thoughts like that were what had led to them having to leave California. Thoughts that turned to action, action that had made Neil so angry that he gave Billy two options:

Leave California, and the boy behind...

Or go to Summer Camp.

The two seemed like impossible evils to wrestle with. And in the end, with defeat, Billy had chosen to leave his home behind. It had hurt more that the boy had moved on before Billy could even explain himself. He swore, man or woman, he wouldn't date. Dating just brought trouble. Laying roots was dangerous. Ripping them free just hurt more.

So, he broke Eddie's heart before it had the chance to bloom. So he thought.

Nearing the beginning of November, Billy struggled one morning to light his cigarette. Shivering from the cold, and possibly the pain in his ribs. The pain that curled up through him and reminded him that defiance tasted like iron and copper on every breath in.

"Here—" the voice was steeped in sweet honey. Eddie lit his cigarette for him, and Billy flicked his eyes up to meet with Eddie's.

Eddie cupped his hands around Billy's while the cigarette dangled from his lips. Eddie rubbed his rough hands over Billy's to warm them, breathing softly over them to fight away the frost and chill in the air. Billy stood stiff and still like the early frost had taken root in him.

Eddie gazed up at Billy and offered him a smile, almost sheepish as he stepped away. He mourned the loss of that warmth as soon as it was gone, the fleeting action stirring something inside that Billy didn't want to fan the flames of.

"Shit, sorry," Eddie snorted. "I'm kind of a touchy guy, and uh. Social boundaries? Not my strong suit."

Billy chuffed, shaking his head before he took his cigarette loosely between two fingers and spat onto the pavement.

"Don't fucking touch me, freak," he hissed to Eddie. His frustration sizzling as his voice lacked the ire he wanted it to have. He wanted Eddie to flinch and run. But he didn't. Instead he just... shrugged his shoulders, unbothered, and turned away to smoke his own cigarette.

The next time Billy had contact with Eddie, it happened so quickly that Eddie wasn't even sure what had happened. It was just something small. Something... simple. But as they passed in the hall, Tommy had shoulder checked Eddie hard enough to knock him on his ass, laughing like he was looking for Billy's approval. That was not what happened.

The loud crash against the lockers had startled Eddie back to himself from the position he was in on the floor.

Billy had Tommy pinned to the lockers, speaking to him in a low and deeply venomous tone.

"Hands off, Hagan. The only person who gets to mess with the freak is me," he snarled.

Eddie wondered what that meant, but it felt like stepping closer to a warm fire in a way. He knew Damm well it might be dangerous to get too close. But Eddie didn't mind the way Billy burned. He wanted to be caught in the rush of Billy's storm.

Eddie had held that warm feeling in his chest for a while. It felt like a glow, and it was something that made him look Billy's way, even when he was shoved against lockers, shoulder checked in the hall, or had his books knocked out of his hands. Eddie always caught it.

The smile that wasn't mocking, even when Billy would insult him. It was like he couldn't put the same vitriol in it that he used to.

"Freak" felt more like a term of endearment. "Loser" felt like an invitation to squabble. And God did Eddie take every chance to bicker with Billy Hargrove.

Mid December, their words had turned into a tussle.

"You wouldn't dare—" Eddie had invited, grinning at Billy who had every intention of dumping Eddie into a snowbank.

"I think you need to cool it," Billy had snarked back, looking less than threatening with his red beanie on his head, puff ball and all. It had been Eddie's. The beanie. But Eddie hadn't said a word about the gloves, scarf, and hat he'd left in Billy's locker after he had noticed that the boy from California didn't have clothes suited for Indiana winter.

"Don't do it, Billy," Eddie laughed.

"Do what? I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Billy said back, casual as he took a step closer.

It happened, in a crash of flailing limbs and shrieking laughter. Billy saw Eddie for the first time. He saw the bright smile that was punctuated by dimples on either side. He saw the way Eddie's fuzzy hair fanned out in the snow as he was dumped into the snow bank, and god he couldn't help but notice the way flakes stuck in his eyelashes. His cheeks and ears red from the cold; Eddie wasn't wearing gloves, a hat, or a scarf. He'd given up his warm clothes to keep Billy warm.

And that sure made something inside Billy warmer than the sun in California ever could.

It was mid January when a knock resonated number 12 at the forest hills trailer park. It brought Eddie out of dozing. The alarm clock read an ugly 2am back at him that made him groan.

He pulled himself up and out of bed as the knock grew more irritated and insistent, swiping his hands down over his tired face.

"Jesus christ, I'm coming! Fucking relax!" He bellowed. Eddie shoved his feet into his slippers and shuffled to the front door, ripping it open.

"My hours end at 11 pm on week... nights..." the irritation in Eddie's voice gave way to a shocked whisper as he was met with a ghastly sight before him.

Billy Hargrove standing on his porch, braced against the side of the trailer to stop any swaying. It looked like he had bruises littering half of his face, and Eddie imagined it was worse, with the way the bruises on his neck seemed to bloom down under his jacket.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, unsure if he could say more. When he reached to push a curl out of Billy's face, the man flinched like Eddie was about to put a knife to his throat.

Instead, Eddie put his hand on Billy's shoulder and guided him to come inside.

That was the night that Eddie learned about Neil Hargrove. It was the same night that Eddie slept, curled around Billy. Like he could protect him.

Billy slept with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone, sinking into the scents of cinnamon and cigarette smoke. Eddie was warm, and even though he was more elbows and knees than plush and soft... Billy felt like he fit perfectly with his head tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie gave good hugs. Great hugs even. Enough of them that Billy felt drunk on the scent of cinnamon and the comfort of his best friend's arms.

They continued as best friends for a long time. Until the Tragedy of Starcourt. Nobody called Eddie. Nobody had thought to at first, really. With the chaos and the news of Russians under the mall— not to mention how the last week or two, Billy had been avoiding Eddie like he was a Germ.

"Get the fuck away from me—"

"Stay away from me Munson."

"Get the fuck out of my face."

"I won't warn you again, if you come near me, I'll break your fucking neck."

Eddie had been sulking about it. Well. More than sulking if he was honest. Had he cried on Wayne's shoulder? Absolutely. Did he get a speeding ticket on his way to the hospital once Max had called him? Absolutely.

Eddie stood in the doorway of Billy's hospital room, looking in on his best friend like the universe had put a knife through his heart. Billy looked barely alive. Fragile.

Eddie was one of the very few visitors that Billy got. Neil Hargrove hadn't shown his face once. Max had told him in a hushed voice that he had packed his things to leave town. Billy was a hero for saving so many people in the mall fire, and Neil still hated him. Didn't want a disabled son.

Billy woke up alone. He wasn't surprised to wake up alone, in a hospital room without a single card on his bedside. Sure, he wasn't surprised... but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt like being cracked open from the inside out. A glaring statement that told Billy Hargrove:

'You don't matter.'

Even alone, Billy stifled his sobs so he wouldn't be noticed.

"Easy tough guy," the gentle voice came from the doorway, making Billy's heart jump up into his throat. Eddie came in with the nurses, who checked his vitals and pain levels. But Billy barely noticed them. He was focused on the boy whose smile cleansed the tar clinging to his heart.

"Thought I told you to piss off," Billy snorted through his tears, managing a shaky smile.

"I've never been good at listening," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand through Billy's bed messy curls. "Can't shake me that easy, sweetheart. I thought you'd have learned that by now. That grouchy bullshit isn't gonna shake me," he assured. Eddie was determined enough to stick out the hurricane.

"You're annoying," Billy spat at him, pushing his hand away.

"And I'm determined to continue to be," Eddie replied as he snatched Billy's wrist. He slid his hand up to lace their fingers and squeeze.

"Give it time," Billy said, seemingly unimpressed. He refused to look at Eddie, only because the idiot was gazing at him like he was someone precious.

"I've got time," Eddie replied, unshaken.

"Jesus, Munson, why don't you just— just leave me the hell alone?! Why are you always," Billy's breath hitched as his voice broke. Eddie was always there. Like a balm to his wounds. He didn't flinch when Neil beat him. He opened the door or answered the call no matter how late. Eddie Munson was a rock in the hurricane, ready to weather his storm.

Billy thought back to the memories El had shown him in that pit of darkness. His mother, the beach, the waves... and the snowy December day that Billy had fallen in love with Eddie Munson.

Billy didn't resist when Eddie placed his hand on his neck, thumbing his jaw like he was brittle. Fragile. And Billy supposed he was.

"God damn," Eddie whispered, smiling at Billy with tender eyes.

"What? Quit fucking looking at me like that. Like— like... pity. Jesus or like I'm gonna break. I don't need your bullshit sympathies, or your God damn coddling, Munson."

Billy felt like a wild animal, backed into the corner of a cage. Snapping and growling at the tender hands that wanted to hold him. Especially if that monster still lurked inside him somewhere. Ready to hurt.

That fear washed away when Eddie kissed Billy's knuckles, something soft. Endearing. Billy could only hitch a sob as his forehead thudded in to rest on Eddie's collarbone. He squeezed Eddie's hand, and to his relief... Eddie squeezed back. It felt a whole lot like someone saying:

'You matter. I love you.'

And for once, Billy wasn't afraid of it being a lie.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #mentions of abuse #abuse tw #neil hargrove is his own trigger warning #hurt/comfort #Billy Lives

[archangeldyke-all]

Rawrrrr I need more of Sevika and house mom reader!!! I need to see their dateeee omg I need to see Sev turn into like house step mom or somethinggggg

Im gnawing at the bar of my enclosure on my knees begging for more of these two.

Also cowboy!sev/reader- sev giving cait her blessing for vi <333

Uhhh dk if this is cool with 222daniela or nah but black vamp reader/sev- idk but i feel like sev would have a corny bucket list of things to do before reader turns her so something with that ig

love love love ya, kisses if you want em, and should i drop the official babyfather teaser? we're about 3/4ths done with that bad boy lemme know

marssss!!!! a million kisses back (and keep an eye out! i'll definitely be adding the bucket list idea to the next vampire/sevika request i have in my inbox tonight!!) but yes. lets do more club mom reader!!

men and minors dni

cherry's sitting on your couch, eating your food, laughing at you as you emerge from your room with a lingerie set she insisted you put on.

you sigh. "i look ridiculous." you huff. she snorts.

"you look like you just learned what sex is." she says, shoving more chips in her mouth. you groan.

"why are you even here? just gonna insult me?" you ask. she giggles then stands from her perch, approaching you.

"i'm here to help you get ready for your hot date. i know the sexiest thing you own are those granny panties-- you need some serious help." she says as she approaches you. you groan.

"i have sexy shit!" cherry raises an eyebrow at you, and you huff. "okay, fine." you mumble, waving her toward you. she laughs, and starts adjusting the lacy black two piece set on your body.

she tightens the straps, then adjusts your tits until they're sitting higher up on your chest. she pushes your shoulders back, turns you around, gives your exposed ass a quick smack, and then laughs when you jump.

"you actually don't look half bad, mom." she says. she walks past you toward your bedroom, laughing at the outfit you have laid out on your bed. "this is what you're wearing?"

"what's wrong with it?" you ask, walking in beside her. she laughs.

"blue jeans and a sweater? what-- she's taking you to the library or something?"

you groan. "fuck off! what am i supposed to wear?"

"i dunno mom, something that shows off those tits of yours! or your ass. or that slutty waist you got." she says as she throws open your closet door, rifling through your clothes.

"i don't remember asking you over." you say as you sit on your bed. cherry looks over her shoulder at you.

"you didn't have to. you help me get sexy all the time, now it's time for me to help you." she says. you chuckle and roll your eyes. cherry gasps, pulling a red dress out of your closet. "where the hell did this come from?" she asks. you shrug.

"remember when kelli got married?" you ask. cherry groans and nods. "i was a bridesmaid." you say. she laughs.

"god-- they were married for what, like three weeks?"

"two weeks and a day." you correct her. "it was a great fucking wedding though." you say. cherry snorts.

"i don't remember any of it i was so fucking drunk." she says as she throws the dress at you. "try it on." she demands.

you stand and slip the dress on, turning to have cherry zip up the back. she whistles when she's done, eyeing you up and down as she licks her lips.

"sevika's gonna love it." she says. you sigh.

"sevika's gonna be sorely disappointed if we go on a second date and i show up in my usual get up."

"i'll lend you a couple of slutty shirts." cherry says. you laugh.

"no thanks. we have very different measures of slutty." you tease your friend. she groans.

"you're such a prude. where are your shoes?" she asks. you laugh again and lead cherry to your living room, where your shoes are piled up by your front door. cherry frowns down at the pile, sighing, before she picks up a plain pair of black sneakers. "these will have to do. it's too bad we're different shoe sizes." she sighs.

"what, so i could break my fucking leg on some of those pleasers of yours? that'd be great for a first date, don't you think? making her chaperone me to the hospital?"

"if you're lucky-- you won't be walking at all." she says, smirking. "your feet'll be in the air all night." she teases. you laugh.

"a girl can dream, i guess." you say. cherry snorts.

"oh please, sevika's obsessed with you. i'd be surprised if you guys make it past appetizers before she's dragging you back to her place." she says. you roll your eyes.

"right." you say sarcastically. cherry scoffs.

"i'm serious! you know she came in today looking for you? you shoulda seen how fuckin' bummed she looked when i told her you had the day off."

you smile, something fluttering in your stomach.

"and i couldn't even talk her into staying for a dance, mom. i think she's really crushing on you."

you laugh and nudge your friend.

"okay, okay, get outta here, i gotta get ready." you say.

"what, you won't let me help you with your makeup?" she asks. you shake your head no.

"i do all of you guys' makeup in the club-- how hard can it be to do it on my own face?" you ask.

"whatever you say, mom." cherry says, wrapping you into her arms and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "good luck tonight." she says. you hug her back.

"thanks cher-bear." you say. she giggles then pulls away, pulling your front door open and waving over her shoulder.

"see you tomorrow!" she calls over her shoulder. you wave to her.

"be safe walkin' home." you call. she nods.

"yeah, yeah. love ya mom!"

an hour later, and there's a knock at your door.

you almost trip over your feet and faceplant in your rush to get to the door.

when you swing it open, you almost die.

sevika looks so fucking good. she's wearing a black button up, only the top few buttons are undone, giving you a lovely view of her cleavage. she's got on dress slacks and fancy shiny shoes, and her hair's slicked back off her face, tucked behind her ears. she's gawking at you, clearly just as impressed by your appearance as you are by hers.

"fuck." you say in greeting. sevika closes her mouth, then smiles.

"yeah. you look so fucking good." she mumbles. you grin, and step out of your apartment, taking sevika's hand in yours. she smirks, then swoops in to press a kiss to your cheek. you gulp.

"hey." you say when she pulls away. she smiles.

"hi hotstuff." she says. you laugh.

"don't get used to it. cherry dressed me today." you mutter as sevika starts walking you to the street. she snorts.

"yeah? ran dressed me." she says. you grin.

"well they did a great fucking job." you say. sevika stumbles a bit at the compliment and you laugh. "shy, sev?" you ask. she rolls her eyes.

"f-fuck off." she mutters. you burst into laughter.

"oh c'mon! i thought you were supposed to be all sexy and suave-- all the girls keep telling me about how cool you are."

"i am!" she insists. you raise an eyebrow at her and she groans. "you just make me nervous." she mumbles. you snort.

"i make you nervous?"

"yes!" she exclaims. "i don't-- i don't think you understand." she says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to turn to face you. you blink at her. "you kinda knocked me on my ass last night." she admits. "like-- forget it." she mumbles.

you tug on her hand. "tell me." you say. she shakes her head no, starting to walk again, and you tug her again. "i'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours." you offer. sevika blinks, then sighs.

"i dunno. you ever seen one of those films they make in piltover?" she asks. you nod. "and how-- how when there's a romance scene and the guy meets the girl it's like-- like the screen goes all blurry everywhere except where she is? and the background noise goes away and corny music starts playing?" she asks. you nod again. "it... it kinda felt like that first time i saw you." she says, shrugging. you blink again. "i-i... i've never done this before." she says.

"done what?"

"dating. flirting." she says. you smile.

"oh. well you're doing a pretty good job of it." you say. she snorts.

"am i? i feel like a fuckin' idiot."

"you're not, you're cute." you say. sevika smiles.

"i'm cute?" she asks. you nod.

"very." you say. sevika grins, then tugs on your hand. "what?" you ask.

"you gotta tell me yours." she says. you laugh.

"oh. mine's no where near as sweet as yours." you admit. she raises an eyebrow at you.

"no?" she asks. you shake your head no and sevika grins. "well?" she asks.

"it's more of a show don't tell secret." you say, winking at her. sevika grins.

the place she takes you to is pretty classy. she orders drinks and appetizers to share, and the two of you chat a bit as you look over the menu.

you look up at some point to reach for your drink, and find sevika admiring you from the other side of the table. when she's caught, she doesn't even seem to care, just grinning at you.

"okay, so tell me about this near death experience." you request. sevika laughs.

"silco's got this kid." she starts. you nod. "she's into explosives and stuff. blew up this building we were all in-- killed like five or six people." she mumbles. you frown. "lost my arm." she says, gesturing to her mech-arm. "and... i dunno. it just got me thinking, i guess. what i'm doing with my life-- the stupid shit i'm wasting all my time and money on. where i always thought i'd be when i was a kid versus where i actually am."

"where'd you think you'd be?" you ask. sevika snorts.

"when i was really young, i thought i'd be one of those show wrestlers-- you know the ones that get all dressed up and sell out arenas. but then i found out those fights were staged-- it took all the magic outta it." she says. you giggle. "but, i dunno. i... i always saw myself, like, doing shit. reading a hundred books a year, learning new languages, learning how to cook. i never did any of that shit. so now... i'm trying, y'know?" she asks. you nod. sevika smiles at you. "you were not in the plan, by the way." she says. you smile.

"didn't see yourself meeting anyone?"

"i saw myself meeting a lot of someones." she says simply. you laugh. "i... i didn't ever expect to meet someone who i'd like though." she says.

"we've known each other less than twenty four hours."

"yeah." she says. "i just can't shake the feeling that i'll know you for a long time to come, though."

you take a hefty sip of your drink. this is like the third time sevika's said something disarmingly romantic and sweet, and she doesn't even seem to register the fact that she's being so romantic and sweet. you reach over the table to take her hand, and shake your head at yourself.

"what?" sevika asks.

"you're not playing me?" you ask, just to be sure. sevika's eyes go wide.

"no!" she says. she opens her mouth to say more but you stop her by squeezing your hand.

"i-- you can say no. it's your first date and everything, i don't wanna fuck it up for you. but... do you maybe wanna just call it a night and come back to my place? find out what my secret is?" you ask.

sevika grins.

"really?" she asks. you giggle and nod, and sevika gets out of her chair so fast it clatters to the floor beneath her. you laugh. "let's get the fuck outta here, babe." she says, throwing some cash onto the table and tugging you out of your chair.

you get to your apartment twice as fast as you got to the resturant, sevika urgently tugging you behind her the entire way.

before you can reach for your keys, she's pinning you to your front door, pressing herself against you, and shoving her tongue down your throat. you moan against her, reaching up to sink your fingers in her hair and tugging, relishing in the shiver that travels down her spine.

"oh fuck, i like you so fucking much." she mumbles against your neck as she begins trailing kisses down it. you take a shaky breath.

"i-i like you too, sev." you say. she grunts, shoving her thigh between your legs, and you moan, hitching your thigh up over her hips. she whimpers.

"c-can i touch you?"

"yes please." you mumble. she grins against your neck, her hand slowly trailing up your leg until it reaches the hem of your dress, and then ducking beneath it, traveling farther and farther up.

you can feel the moment she feels your lingerie, her whole body goes stiff and she sucks in a sharp breath against your neck. you giggle.

"it-- i-- it's not mine. cherry lent it to me, so don't go expecting thongs and lace all the time." you say. sevika groans.

"you better find your keys before i fuck you right through this door." she says. you take a shaky breath and start fumbling through your bag in search of your keys.

you pull them out with a gasp of victory, turning in sevika's arms as she starts grinding against your ass to fumble with the locks until your door swings open.

"i'll give you the tour later." you joke. sevika chuckles against the back of your neck as you both spill into your apartment.

you scream. sevika jumps behind you.

"cherry what the fuck?!" you yell. cherry snaps awake from where she was sprawled across your couch, a bag of chips on her chest, a record playing in the background. she curses.

"oh fuck, mom." she says, rubbing her eyes. "i am so sorry." she says, giggling as she takes in you and sevika's rumpled appearances.

"what are you doing here!?" you ask. cherry giggles.

"about an hour ago i realized that two of you might come back to your place-- and it's a fuckin' mess! you got dishes in your sink and laundry all over the place-- you didn't even make your bed!"

"s-so?" you ask.

"so i came back and used the spare key you gave me to clean up a bit for you two!" she says. "but-- i guess i fell asleep somewhere between folding the laundry and lighting some candles to set the mood."

you groan. "so your plan was to light candles in my place and then leave them unattended? for possibly the entire night?" you ask. cherry cringes.

"see when you say it like that--"

"oh my god, get the fuck out!" you cry.

cherry holds her hands up in a placating gesture, shoving her shoes on and stumbling past you and sevika.

"you two have fun! be safe! if you hurt her, i'll figure out where you live." she threatens sevika as she walks past. you groan again. "love you mom, see you at work tomorrow!" she calls over her shoulder before she slams the apartment door shut behind her.

you sigh, then turn around to look at sevika. she's grinning.

"i'm sorry." you say. sevika snorts.

"it's cool." she says. you groan.

"it's horrible!"

"you're a single mom of like thirty girls-- i get it." she says, slinging her arms around your waist. you chuckle, your head falling forward to rest on her chest. "guess you're a bit of a package deal, huh?" she asks.

"i guess so." you say. she chuckles.

"that's cool. i can work with that. just no actual kids, okay?" she says. you laugh and lean up to kiss her. she hums against you.

"no kids. sounds good." you say against her lips. sevika smirks down at you.

"that... i mean. 'no kids' doesn't necessarily mean we can't try to make a few." she says, raising her eyebrow at you. you grin.

"yeah?" you ask. sevika grins and nods at you.

"show me your bedroom. i hear the bed's freshly made and everything." she says.

you laugh, wrapping your hand around sevika's, and dragging her toward your bedroom.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[chrissshub]

OLD FLINGS DIE HARD

FT. EREN YEAGER

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Ex Husband!Eren Yeager x Fem Reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: Infidelity, possession, couch sex, teasing, taunting, fingering, nipple play, marking, biting, use of petnames, clit slapping, mentions of Jean Kirstein

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORDS FROM CHRIS: This came as a request but I wanted to elaborate on it :))

“Eren?”

“Hey…Y/N…”

It’s a rare occasion when you let Eren enter your newfound home, on his own nonetheless. The clicks of the door’s gear act faster than you can think, drawing your attention from the kitchen stovetop to the wandering hues of green.

It’s the new surroundings that irks him to no end, walking into you in a kitchen different from his own. The walls weren’t as brightly as this one, replacing his choice of an apricot orange to a blazed blue.

The atmosphere here differed from his norm all the same, this one reeking with imitation. He quickly peers out into the living room, the quaint space blessed by the sun’s setting rays. Its light still reaches as far as into the kitchen, kissining Eren’s cold cheek out of sympathy for his wounds. 

His eyes meet your body’s frame from his post near the door, pushing it to meld in with the white painted frame. Eren doesn’t speak much until he’s in your vicinity, hands sinking coyly into his jean pockets.

He’s watching you, desperate to drink in the reminiscent sight.

Your hands still hold onto the wooden spoon with the same grip he remembers it, supple fingertips gracing the thinned handle. What leads into the pot is a distinct story, wafting scents flooding Eren’s nose. He knows it well too. The rich spices all simmering into a timeless stew that was once favored by him and him alone.

There’s a desire deep inside you, pulling at a side you wish to abandon. The urge to meet his eyes is present, tell him to drop the doe-eyed look and settle his business with haste. But you’ve known the man too long to turn him away, pity filling the crevices of your heart. It’s been three years now, and in those three years, you’ve never seen the man so lost. 

His eyes tell it all. To the average person, some would say Eren’s perfectly fine, just suffering through the rough of a natural human condition. Yet unto you, Eren’s eyes are lost, lost in some dream he can’t seem to escape. The prominent green that once held a righteous glimmer has long lost its gleam, now being casted beneath a thick haze of a chilling realization. 

He’s lost all he’s ever had to himself. 

Now, he’s forced here, gathering what scraps of you he could before leaving doused in disappointment.

“The kids aren’t here, won’t be here for another hour or two.”

He’s wincing at your voice’s tone, once a gentle melody now replaced with the cold brute of the blunt reality. You don’t even bother to look at him, a subtle detail he takes too far into account. Regardless, Eren simply can’t take your words as infallible, he needed to make some dent into the steel wall sealing him off to your true natures.

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for the kids. I came here–”

“Then you should know how that’ll turn out. Nothing you say or do is gonna fix us, Eren.” 

Eren’s swallowing down the lump of regret as you speak. The words resonate with him for the umpteenth time yet they sting more each and every time. He knows none of his words, his sweet talk or convincing will gain your favor again.

Eren also knows how happy you are with your new flame, a man that stands in all that he couldn’t. It’s painful, watching your smile amuse a man other than himself. It can light up any room in an instant yet he still feels cold, knowing that the same warmth would never grace his presence anymore.

And Eren should be okay with it, considering it was his selfishness and immaturity that landed him here: secretly begging for a moment with you. That fact alone is what keeps him so motivated, using that pent-up perseverance to woo your heart back into his hands.

“Fine, Y/N. Just…let me stay, keep you company for the time being…please?”

“Don’t you mean, let me keep you company?”

A silence shrouds the apartment’s kitchen, the shrilling reality coming to light. As cold as you came off to be, you too shared in his cry for company. The difference was that your cry was answered a year ago by a great man, while Eren’s cry could only be answered by you. 

“Yes, I do,” Eren groans, bringing a hand to lace about the nape of his neck. He leans along the marble countertop for support, carefully searching for the words to ensure a minor success.

“Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had some of your food. ‘M kinda hoping you’d share a plate…or two.”

You offer him a measly nod before switching the stove off, acknowledging him without passing on a single glance.

“You remember the drill. Get a bowl and I’ll serve it to you, Eren.”

Slow steps around the counter lead him to you, extending his reach to the cabinet closest to your head. His intention was to grab a bowl, but he’s become too interested in something—something far more familiar than your meal. 

That’s when a faint heat flickers at Eren’s cheeks, a shushed gasp cutting through his teeth.

It’s a scent, hints of vanilla and rose whisking towards his nose. He knows the smell all too well, a lotion you insisted on using day in and day out. He’s so eager for the memory that Eren’s nearly gone dumb, bringing his chin to ghost past your shoulder. 

He’s so close to you, so close he can just about feel that plush heat radiating from you. If not for the bowl in his hand, Eren’s chest would’ve caved at your spine, the front of his gray tee clinging to the open back of your lavender silk slip-on. It’s wrong of him to say but Eren’s already parting his mouth with the syllables of his deepest thoughts.

“God, you’re so beautiful. Everything about you is just how I remember it too, almost like…we’ve never split.” 

A white-hot streak of heat strikes the highs of your ears and cheeks alike, a stifling breath clogging your lungs. It’s in tandem with every fiber in you running to a point, a body numb off the sheer rip of shock. 

“What did you say–”

The words just waiting to spill into the air find themselves coming to a sudden halt, courtesy of Eren’s touch. The warmth of his palm curves along your shoulder, the pad of his thumb drawing lazy circles into your supple skin. He’s even, slipping a few of his thick fingers beneath the thin strap of your dress. 

He misses you—that much is apparent to your eyes.

You know Eren too well to ignore all his whims, noticing how the soft purrs coo from deep within his chest. He’s fallen at his own impulses by simply closing the space between you both. His breath curls at the hairs on the back of your neck, the rain of chills licking across your spine. 

Yet, you can’t help but sympathize with Eren; empathy not being that far of a cry either. It’s a simple touch but your heart beats harder for this than a kiss from your newest beau. That same gentle manner he possesses follows through to his words, another compliment rolling off his tongue.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. I said you’re so beautiful, I don’t even know how to act around you. And I hate to say it but… I feel like you keep calling me back, but I know I don’t deserve it—I don’t deserve you.”

“What are you doing, Eren? We talked about this…I’m so…happy with Jean now. We had our time, can we just accept that and keep things the way they are?”

“You were happy with me, you told me so yourself. The new guy, he’s nothing like me.

I’ll drop to my hands and knees if you need me too, but I’ll keep asking and pushing ‘til you come back to me. I love you too much and too hard to let this be how we continue in life.”

Your mouth parts for another retort, your mind hard at work for a sharp comeback. It was strange to hear this from Eren, the man who drove you to leave with your shared children.

He’s the reason why something so beautiful failed, dragging along two innocent souls into the mess. So why? Why work so hard to merely push you away all over again?  

“You should be the last person talking, Eren. You can’t just waltz on in here and—”

“Shhh, can we just enjoy this moment? No distractions, nothing to interrupt, just us…like how it used to be.”

A harsh gulp consumes your throat. Your chin fell into a tilt, meeting Eren’s eyes for the first time that night. Eren’s so at peace now with you in his care, his eyes telling you all. 

The haze you’ve so accustomed muted itself from his sights, granting for the whimsical glimmer to dot his pupils. It’s enough to claim all consciousness from you, your lips pushing out a breathless gasp in response.

“You’re gonna make me do something I’ll regret, aren’t you?”

A chuckle rings from Eren’s lips as you voiced what concern came into your mind. His hand loosens from your shoulder to drag past your skin, the curved tips of his fingers brushing along the pulse of your throat.

The heat that bleeds through your skin is one, a gut-wrenching lust that only he could ever cure. The pretty tint in his pink lips exudes an enticing plump, the plush mounds ever so slightly brushing past your own.

“No, gorgeous. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Just like you wanted a divorce is the same way you want this too—and I was never one to deny you anything. You can lie and make up some excuse, I’ll listen to it, promise I will. But as for this unspoken thing right now, you know I only believe in the inevitable.” 

“And what’s that? What's inevitable for us?”

The words weren’t given the chance to grace the air before Eren brings his lips to yours. It’s the overwhelming weight of his body cocooning yours and the push of his guiding kiss that runs your blood head and your mind hazy.

His hand braces at your waist, keeping you closer than ever. The thrill is the very thing that brings fear into your heart. You know it’s wrong, ultimately ruining your new relationship for something that could’ve been great. 

But when Eren’s grip on you is that of possessive implications, you can’t help but give into him and his whims. That’s why you allow yourself to let go, let go of everything that wasn’t him. The lead is all for him to take without any interference or doubt.

All it takes is a breath for you to relax in Eren’s hands, desperate to take every little thing in. From the way he teases your bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue to his hand trailing along the side of your body, it’s all with an inflaming rush claiming your body as a prisoner of an unruly lust.

It’s not until you find yourself laid along with the fluffy cushions of the velvet couch that Eren breaks away from the moment to answer your smoldering question. Eren’s chest is enough to pin you down, his body.

He can share in your restlessness, tugging at the pesky dress with just a sliver of his strength. Just the straps give way to his antics, leaving the supple mounds of your bouncing tits to greet his blinded eye.

His hands fled to cup at what he could, trapping your breast between his palms. He’s reluctant to peel away from your lips, but there’s something else that peeks at his attention. It began with a kiss between the valley of your chest, only to trail inwards to your flushed nipple. His teeth catch onto the stiff peak gently, using a teasing pulse to nip at the tender peaks.

The sensation alone is filled with confliction, the fine line between pleasure and pain blending into its own silver lining. He’s barring your nipple between his teeth so crudely but swipes at the sensitive slit with his tongue.

He’s even intent on leaving his mark on you, preying at the top of both your tits. A throbbing suckling takes place to work at Eren’s jaw until plumped blotches rise to the surface of your skin.  

“Think Jean would get mad if you had a few marks on you?” the rhetorical question bringing about foolish giggles from you both. 

As satisfaction finally reaches its heights in Eren’s favor, he retreats back onto his haunches for a moment, dragging your dress to reside around your ankles and off into the room. His hand clutches at his jeans’ clasp when something foreign hits him, a thought so crude he simply had to ask.

“Tell me Y/N? When was the last time you and Jean fucked?”

“It’s been…awhile. He’s so busy with work and all that I can’t seem to get even a second from him

“See, that’s where I, too, messed up with you, not giving my pretty baby all the attention she needs. I bet you’re just all pent up, can’t even use those fingers to get off how you need to.”

Eren’s words act as a distraction for you, pulling your attention elsewhere. It’s a distraction so great that you didn’t even notice your panties pulled from your hips or how his jeans now sat midway of his thighs, the plain tee rolled below his bulging pecs. He doesn’t feel too compelled to, but the doe eyes of desire tell him otherwise. 

“You wanna see more of me, hm? ‘M even supposed to be this close to you right now, Jean might find us right when I’m fucking my cum nice and deep into you. And well…you wouldn’t want that, since he makes you so happy, right?”

The whimper that leaves your lips is deathly, your small hands crashing against his chest. All Eren can do is grin, grin at the way you’ve fallen at his hand. He can’t deny you sadly, stripping free of what clothes did remain on his body. He groans in a faux aggravation as he hunches over you once more, the head of his cock nuzzled between your pried inner thigh. 

No, rather call it tears of a hidden relief, the pearly rivulets pearling right between your thigh’s crease. He’s making a mess of himself at the thought of you, whining for him just like the good ole days.

He’s nearly driven mad out of a desperate urgency, wanting the walls of your pussy to flutter around his girth. But such thirst isn’t without consequence, Eren has to remind you who held the power amongst you both. 

His hand ghosts over the fat lips of your cunt, the pad of his middle finger mischievously slinking through the coddling clasp of your pussy’s essence, only for the remainder of his fingers to follow through with a harsh slap right on the bulb of your clit.

“Beg for me, baby. Y’know I’d give you the world, but you gotta tell me what you want, ‘kay?” 

He knows it stings, the throbs weeping into his digits. He’s persistent on getting what he wants and knows exactly how. Unlike Jean, Eren knows that the stirring of your clit gets you each and every time. It serves as the perfect explanation as to why his digits almost fall back into place, the pad of his ring and middle fingers drumming at your hood. 

He’s lazy at first, just grazing the flush pearl with laggard swipes. It’s practically the cutest thing to him, playing with your clit as if an orgasm wasn’t the result. To the eye of another, one could have come to the same conclusion too with the way he toyed with your pussy. His digits lose their hold over your clit for the moment, reaching out to pry your lips apart.

His touch spreads down to your folds, the silky sheets hugging around the digits. He even arrived at your entrance, thumping at the slit with his finger’s pad. When he does return to your clit, it’s not with the same care-free nature he began with—far from it.

The lazy circle grew into something related to art, sparsity replaced with strategy. He’s careful, only ever nudging at the perked bulb when. He can feel the blood rushing to his touch, forcing your clit to peck at his fingers uninvitingly.

“E-Eren, please! P-...Please fuck me, I really need it–fuck–give it to—”

“Aww, look at you. I thought you’d never ask!”

Eren rips his fingers from your puffy pussy just to latch onto his cock, smearing your slick along his shaft. The angle he brings himself to is high, ensuring he’d hit all your sweet spots with a single drive. 

Eren doesn’t even bother to tease you anymore, he’s so drunk off how pretty your pussy gushed with a cry that he’s already introducing you to the head of his cock. The fat crown of pink sinks right through, a reaping squelch trapping his cock inside. He’s compelled to fill you, hips diving without a lick of resistance.

He can tell of your struggles, walls clamping down just when he’s halfway in. That’s when he’s reminded of how cold it can be, the room’s temperature lacing around the unclaimed length greedily. He wants to snap his hips, end it all on his term, but your hands bracing his hips hint at another story in tow.

“Fuck! Y’re so big, Eren! J-Just give me a sec!"

“Nuh-uh, if I slow down, you aren’t gonna be able to see how. Remember now, how big your ‘Ren was and how nice he stretched you? I bet you’re feeling it now, pretty pussy can’t even take it all…but… you will, I’ll make sure of it.”

Your lips can’t help but unwind at his words. It’s the greed in your core and the spite in his words that force your hand, sending your digits to the lips of your pussy. Your fingers pull at the silky flesh carefully, the burning pricking at your slit.

“O-Okay, just take it easy on me. It’s s’ much fr’ me right now, but I can take it!” 

“You’re slurring and I haven’t even hit your tummy yet…look who's cockdrunk, baby? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His taunts are paired with the endless fervor of his cock, the final stretch finally resting snug between your walls. There’s a relishing ring of a tainted white adorning the base of his cock, courtesy of your essence spilling around Eren’s shaft. He’s eager to watch every moment he has with you, pushing your buckling knees to your chest. 

God, does your pussy look so perfect like this? So swollen yet still choking on the full brute of his cock. There’s little room existing among you both, considering how his pelvis smothered your clit without having to move.

He’s splitting you apart but here you are, taking every thick inch like a champ. You’re so tight around him too, just barely giving Eren the space to flourish. A suffocating heaven is all he can call it, the dark hues of vivid veins brimming with elation.

He almost feels bad for reeling back, pulling all of his hard-earned efforts from you. But there’s a lewd, near sinister, manner in how Eren chooses to go about this now. His hips snap to meet your own, burying his cock deeper than where he began.

Why, he’s so deep, he swears he can spot a bulge right from your tummy. That mere figment of his imagination is all it takes to spur him down the feverish road of bliss, bullying the stubborn clench out of your walls. 

He’s pulling at all you’ve ever known, coaxing the overwhelming rouse to taunt your riled nerves, the tight entrance still clinging with every draw. Not to mention how each time his cock does return to its post, your jaw loses all hold to cry out his name. The clashes of skin prove his case furthermore, how the passion rages deep within his soul.

It’s not his fault you’re so warm, so wet, and so whiny for more. The enveloping heat has Eren’s body running hot, thriving off of a pure rush of guilt and lust. He should feel bad, for ruining what healthy relationship you created for his own selfish needs. But he can’t help that each drag pulls at his own mental, Eren falling into the damned state of addiction.

It’s at the height of your impending orgasm that Eren’s taking in just how fucked out you are. As numb as you are to everything in your environment, he’s aware of it all.

He can see the spools of drool rolling down your chin, joined with fat tears blotting your cheeks, and hear the subtle jingles of keys hitting the outside of your apartment. He brings his lips to your soiled pairs, mumbling off something he knows you couldn’t begin to acknowledge.

“Remember what you asked earlier? What's inevitable for you and me?”

His words lead through the door's creaks, the burly voice of one Jean Kirstein making his presence known.

"Y/N! I'm home! We have a few hours to kill before the kids are-"

And as numb as you are to what was to come, Eren can't bring himself to stop. No, he'd rather ruin you through the building tension, his hips rolling deeper than before. Eren wants to be as deep as possible, to force his cock to house your womb and numb you from the inside out.

It's the only way he sees that will protect you from the incoming onslaught of pain. But, he does offer you some solace, supplying you with a single fact that proves itself to be true.

“Well, it’s us...us coming right back together.”

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @whore4mikey @pixelsanji @yooniluvbot444 @sleepy3 @itzgabs22 @slaughterakira @elnitta @woahhajime @tojidilfs @pulchritxde @tirzamisu @hannas16 @caribbeanwifey19 @auri127 @nekoriots @ladyackerman @ladyackermann @tonaken @wh0re4levi @ilaaishi @bloobrryktty @dukina @simpforerenn @dabis0bitch @kensgff @zorosbozo @maxx-15 @mysecretstash00 @your-next-daydream @23victoria @erensleftnut @missyasma @alyk19 @lordduckass @katsukismelons @savantsoulfinder @domaswife @0fingerlickingood0

wanna join my taglist? click here:))

#anime #x female reader #x fem!reader #reader insert #x black reader #x black fem reader #attack on titan #aot smut #aot eren #eren smut #eren jeager angst #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x black reader

[wakandamama]

Routine

Yall been knew I had fallen down The Bear rabbit hole and have YET to climb out. So it was only a matter of time before I drop a Carmy x Sydney fic lol. So here it is! It's a bit of smut, a bit of sneaky around, a bit of character deep dive. A whole bunch of sexual tension, way too may food allegories. This is just a ONESHOT!

Sydney thinks about just how this became routine for her and Carmy.

It may have happened when he and her were the last ones left in the kitchen on a Saturday. Three weeks before the disaster of Pre-Order and the blessing of Tomato Money.

 Sydney’s highschool cousin had begged her to provide some of her family famous crab cakes for a graduation kickback for one of her friends. The friend remembered having them from way back when 18 year-old Sydney still had to babysit them as ever-hungry 10 year olds and never forgot. Honestly, Sydney felt honored that her food made such a lasting memory on a stranger just like Camry had for her-

Anyway, the kickback was at 8 and it was 7:20 and Sydney had just put the last sheet of crabcake from the oven. She called out absentminded goodbyes as Tina’s quiet “Night Jeffes,” and Richie’s brash “Night Cousin” kinda floated behind her.

 As she waited for the batch of paprika-savry crab cakes to bake, she was whipping up a creamy tabasco base sauce to dip them in. Carmy was softly in her space, like usually. He was precious in sharpening all the knives of the kitchen, old school style with a grit stone set, he stood catty-corner to her. His drilling blue eyes didn’t stare directly at her soul but instead to the delicately-deadly curve of the knife. 

For once it was Sydney stuck side eyeing him with a soft focus. Her cooking had come to  a quiet moment of waiting. Waiting for her sauce to set, waiting for the last batch and waiting for the batch before to cool, waiting to taste test.

Camry chuckled when he heard her mutter out a quiet yet frantic “hot hot hot hot” as she let her impatience get the best of her to taste her sauce with the crab cake. He shut up at her moan of delicious pleasure. A soft but throat-y sound of pure satisfied bliss. He practically tasted the seasoning of such a sound in the air and a craving to hear it again and again hit his gut, spreading warmth all over his skin. 

He glanced up from the black grit of the stone to see her all eyes closed, swaying in the taste and her crafted fingers still clutched half of the cake. He took her in further, she was dressed down from her kitchen wear, instead wearing the outfit for the kickback ( - supervising, one last babysitting gig I guess. Because I know those brats are gonna get high off their asses) 

A pair of black jeans that should be illegal on her body, a gray cropped sweatshirt and sneakers that would lead to certain death by slip in a busy kitchen.

 His eyes followed every line of hers like he was seeing the best grain to cut for optimal presentation. The curve of her calf into the curve of her thigh, into the curve of her tempting ass into the concave of her back. His eyes skirt the plane of her stomach onto the lines that made her shapely waist. Over her petite chest to the curve of her lean shoulders that connected to the slope of her neck that was still stretched back in bliss from a euphoric bite of damn good food. 

She moaned over the second bite. Camry licked his lips at the way her lips kiss over the crumbs and speckle of sauce left on her lithe fingertips. Fuck, he wondered how those plump lips of her witty mouth would fe-

Carmy bit back a curse as the grit of stone scraped with a rude sting over the side of his thumb to the heel of his hand. Like some punishment for allowing her to take his attention with one whisper of a sound and to greedily take in her beautiful shape when the fucking knives are dull.

“You good Chef?” Carmy asked. He brushed past her with a light hand on the small of her back to get to the sink. She finally opened her eyes and her nose scrunched cutely in slight embarrassment for moaning like that over a freakin’ bite of crab.  

“Sorry, it's just I haven’t made these in forever. I forgot how good I am at making ‘em. Shit, that probably sounds so conceited.” Sydney chuckled a bit nervously and Carmy shrugged.

“I only eat veal, if I cook it. That fact’s gotten me beat up by Mike once or twice.” he joked. It made Sydney smile. She grabbed another one with a graceful swoop of her wrist; she dipped it and came to his side.

“What do you think?” she asked, excitement in her eyes that Carmy was going to eat something so casual of hers. Carmy licked his lips at her obliviousness, her hands were still busy as he washed them and absently wrapped a bandage around the meat of his thumb. 

But he would never deny a taste test from her. 

Sydney freakin’ squeaked when he leaned his head close and ate the bite from her hand. Her body stiffened as she felt his lips grace off the side of her pointer finger and thumb. She is forced to focus on his working jaw as he chewed over it and gave a hum of pleasure himself. The sound made her bite her own lips, she wondered how such a sound would feel against her throat.

“That’s some amazing sauce Chef. Oughta add it to the menu.” he commented, looking into her eyes once again. Sydney gave a stiled nod that almost brushed their foreheads together. 

“Thanks. It’s- jus-just uhm, well y'know something I’ve perfected since I was a kid. My great uncle taught me how.” She rambled with a shuffled step back. 

“Whoa!” Carmy warned softly. His quick hands grasped her hips and pulled her back to him before she crashed back into the very full trash can. The movement collided her into his chest, his hands slid up to her waist and back to steady them before they ended up on the floor. 

“Uhm.” Sydney whispered as their noses bumped and she was nearly eye to eye with him. 

“Whoa uh-” he muttered back as Sydney’s hands fisted into the front of his shirt. 

It was awkward and exhilarating. 

Certainly, wrong and natural as they both found each other pulling their lips closer. Carmy closed his eyes tightly and Sydney refused to move her grip on his shirt because no-way was this real. Their lips placement is slightly off initially, they taste the same to one another and Sydney is pretty sure her foot is stepping on his.

Their next smack of lips was more of a moment to be connected yet adjusting. Sydney leads them to correct their posture, him leaning down more comfortably, one of her hands leaving his shirt to hold his cheek as their heads shift. Noses bumping once more but the kiss deepened deliciously. They got greedy with one another as they refused to separate for air. 

Sydney’s hand gripped down on his gold chain, locking him down as she started to trail her lips to his jaw. Carmy’s hand grabs at her breast and gives a soft squeeze as he forces her lips back to his and swallows her moan. 

 His other hand rubbed down her side until they gripped tightly on her hip. The combination of his caresses caused her to give a stuttering moan that sent lust running wild under Carmy’s skin. He turned them and lifted her with ease. Sydney pulls apart in shock as he sat her on the edge of an empty prep table with such swiftness. 

They are forced to breathe and look at each other now, their bodies still wrongly close. Sydney's hands slid down to hold his wrists as he still had a grip on her hips.

“Fuck.” they both whispered off wet, kissed bruised lips. They looked each other deeply in the eyes for a moment before Carmy turned away first. His hand instantly ran with worry through his hair as Sydney snatched her hands and crossed her arms, pressing into herself as she looked down at the titles. 

“Uhm, that wasn-”

“Shit, sorry w-”

They both hum to a quiet, lost for words at what they just did. 

And how they both liked it.

And how they both wanted it again. 

Sydney feels an embarrassed warmth under her skin to see her lip gloss over Cramy’s mouth and chin. Carmy went red and nervous as he saw how much he had hiked up her shirt.

“Sorry for uh… you good Syd?’ Carmy asked, still not looking at her. She slid off the counter, adjusting her clothes. She pointed her look past his head to the clock on the wall. 

7:55 pm.

“I’m good, Carmy. Are you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“I’ve got to go.”

Sydney has to bush close to him to get back to her counter to get the last batch and pack the food then getting the fuck out. Carmy flinched to see that his wet hands had left a drying imprint on her shirt. He passed her to the back door and collapsed into a resting crouch, lit a cigarette on instinct.

Five minutes later she was outside too, tupperware full of the best crab cakes and sauce he’s ever had and the girl that now owns his first kiss in 8 years.

 He hastily stood up and they gave each other tight smiles. 

“I’ll see you on Monday?” Sydney asked. She frowns a bit, that wasn’t meant to come out as a question. It doesn’t matter though with how fast she is walking away.

“Yeah!”Carmy called nervously after her, she turned just in time to catch him ducking back inside. 

Sydney is sure that’s not the start. Because they showed up on Monday and worked with their usual stressed ease. They each had their usual bicker with Richie, they each worked on prep, Sydney wrote in her little notebook, Carmy ticked over leftover paperwork, they sat across from each other during family and never met eyes.

They did the same thing Tuesday. 

They did the same thing Wednesday.

If she was trying to determine something official, it would be that Thursday. 

At the end of the day she swiped a piece of leftover lemon cake and two spoons as everybody left. She went into the office and Carmy looked up in soft surprise as she sat it on top of some random receipt book from 2015.

“What’s up Chef?” Carmy asked and Sydney shrugged.

“Just cake. I… we need to talk abou-”

“Shit, yeah, uh-yeah. We don’t-”

“Yes we do Carmen. That's the whole communication thing we talked about when I first started.” 

“Oh, right.”

They both went quiet as Sydney cleared some space on the desk and sat on the edge. She dived into a bite of cake and ignored the nerves created from Camry staring at her mouth again. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you like that.” Carmy said after a minute and Sydney handed him the other spoon. 

“I’m sorry too. That was unprofessional of us.”

“No, it’s on me Sydney. I’m older than you, I’m your boss.” he added, going for a bite as well. They are quiet as they share it down to an empty plate and yellow crumbs.

“I’ve liked you for a long time Carmen. Admired you even. I think you can go anywhere and do anything and it’s great.” Sydney said. Carmy let out a bitter chuckle at her statement.

“Sydney you have a lot of talent, creativity and whatever else makes a great person. From the moment you walked in the door you started lifting this place up. I’m a piece of shit compared to you.”

“Still like you though.” 

“... I like you alot too…”

It’s quiet again, no cake to fill in the time and space. Both chefs felt like they were going to bust and the silence was the only safe space. 

Ever impatient, Sydney is the first to break it. 

“Ya know… The first time I made scrambled eggs I was like 8. I set the fire alarm off with how high I cooked them. There was salt and pepper everywhere, somehow they were both browned as shit and still runny. I’m pretty sure I broke my dad’s heart fucking up his cast iron pan like that.” Sydney rambled and Carmy gave a soft smile at that.

“I’m pretty sure I broke my nan’s heart cause I broke spaghetti noodles in half before I boiled em. I had seen someone do it on Food Network and Sugar had to save my ass from getting beat with a spoon. I was 7 I think.”

Sydney couldn't help but snort at that. 

“Yeah, but we got better with practice right?”

“Yeah.”

“Not to be mean, but you could improve your kissing skills.” Sydney said, pointedly not looking at him as he settled back in his chair in shock and awe.

“... is this a complaint?”

“No.”

“No?”

“... it’s an offer to improve I guess. With practice.”

“Sydney.”

“I’m just saying! I liked it, you liked it. You could use practice. I could use pract- oh.” Sydney is cut off by Carmy rising up. He stood in the space between her legs and crossed his arms. Sydney couldn’t help but blink in surprise as he bent in slightly to look her in the eyes. 

“We can’t.” he scolded quietly. His voice is soft yet stern.

“We can’t?” Sydney rasped.

“It’s unprofessional.”

“...It is unprofessional.”

“It’s getting too close, even if we did like it. I can’t just make out and fuck you in the Beef like I’m some asshole line cook that only floats Waffle Houses.”

Sydney huffed then crossed her arms as well, leaning back and squinting at him. Her head gently bumped the shelf above the desk as she settled back. She can’t meet his eyes though, so she focused on his nose and thinks about how it bumped her the other night.

“This joint wishes it was a fuckable Waffle House. Richie might actually get a life.'' She smarted. Carmy jerked his head to a tilt, trying to force her eyes to his in disbelief. 

“Sydney!”

“Carmen!”

“We shouldn’t and aren’t doing this here.”

“Fine.” Sydney shrugged, plump lips pursing in attitude.

She finally got the nerve to meet his eyes but smiled to see that he was checking out her mouth. Carmy pressed the inch of space closer so her legs encompassed his hips. His arms dropped so that one hand braced on the shelves behind her head and the other rested on her knee, making her leg enclose his. She felt the subtle bulge in his pants settle against the desk and the edge of her inner thigh. She glances down at it and lets her posture correct up in a deep breath. 

The layer of their jeans blocking skin was fucking infuriating. 

Once again, they were dangerously in each other's faces.

“So, we aren’t doing this here?” Sydney challenged.

“Nope.”

They ended up half stripping in the back of his car, bruising each other's necks with hungry lips. 

Sydney finds out his hair is just as soft as it looks and he groans when you tug at his nape but flinches when you go too far up his crown.

Carmy learns to draw out moans from her. You had to kiss her down from the bottom of her ear, follow her jar and end at the center of her throat.

Sydney learns that holding his cheeks makes him cry. Carmy learns she likes to hide her face in her braids when her moans are out of control. Carmy learns that he’s really fucking handsy. Sydney learns that she’s a biter.

Both of them have very talented yet untrained hands that excel in finding the right spots.

It became routine. 

They’d work on Monday, then come in on Tuesday. They work like Carmen didn’t nearly crash his car with how good Sydney sucked him off on the drive to his place Monday night.

 They’d work on Wednesday. Pretending that the reason Sydney was walking so carefully is because she dropped a pot on her foot and not that Carmy fucked her thighs numb back at his apartment last night on Tuesday night.

The reason Sydney had to wear her braids in a high bun instead of her usual scarf this Thursday morning? She overslept and didn’t have time to grab one. Not the fact that it slipped off her bucking head last night and is under Carmy’s couch right now.

The reason Carmy wore a long sleeve rolled up to his forearms instead of his usual short sleeve shirt this fine weather Friday? He had to fight the alley cats throwing out the trash. Not the fact the ‘cat’ was most definitely named Sydney as she rode him in the back seat while they were parked outside her and her father’s apartment building. 

Friday was their exception. 

They alway went home separately and alone on Fridays. The dinner rush was too taxing on their bodies to be hungry for anything else but a sandwich, a beer, and to drop dead into bed. (Friday didn’t stop nudes however. It didn’t stop Carmy from getting hard at the videos of Sydney muffling her loud moans of his name into her childhood pillows. It didn't stop Sydney’s gut from tightening up at the obscene shot of Carmy beating his dick to the sound of her name) 

Work was work on Saturday. 

It was Sunday mornings like this. Where they woke up cuddling in Carmy’s bed. Him smoking out the window into the cool morning air and Sydney listening to his heartbeat in his chest in the soft light of sunrise. 

That she thinks about this, about how they got here.

She feels guilt forever getting in a situation like this. She’s fucking her boss, fucking her idol, fucking a man five years older than her, fucking a white man, fucking a Catholic, all the without a ring nor relationship in sight. Her father would burn The Beef down to the ground with Carmy inside of it and expose her to church ladies for correction. Her mother would just cackle out of the grave.

 “At least you didn’t dirty the kitchen, Syddie Kitty.” Sydney can picture her teasing out of plum-colored lips over a wine glass as funeral dirt shakes out of her locs.

Sydney turns over so that she and Carmy are pressed chest to chest. Her chin rests on his sternum so she can look over his face. His hand absently rubs a firm circle over the knot in her lower back as he continues to stare at their city waking up. 

He’s beautiful. 

She’s beautiful. 

Carmy huffs a laugh as he dodges her trying to take the cigarette out of his hand, blowing the cloud high as he snuffs it out. She sticks her tongue out and dodges back, making the kiss he aimed for her lips land on her cheek instead. 

Before they can tease each other again, Carmy’s phone rings. He cringes at the tone he has set for Sugar echoing over them. He grabs it and just stares at the screen as it vibrates and lights up with the picture of his sister.

Sydney taps her hand on his wrist, thumb ghosting on the green accept slider. Carmy is quick to deny the call, toss the phone back to the side table and twist into Sydney's body.

“You can’t keep doing that.” Sydney says after a while. He burrows further into their hold until she melts back. 

What would Sugar think? Every time he declined her calls or avoided weekly family dinners was because he was in the hands of his younger sous that he still hasn’t introduced her to. Yeah, the one Richie has been complaining about changing everything. That she was the only one that made him feel like he could breathe and that he hated church. 

He knew what Richie would say, that's for sure. He’d be all smug and smartassed and judgmental. Announcing that he knew all along baby Carmy despite the prestige of his NORMA bullshit, was just a bitch who fell for pussy and would drive The Beef and the lives the revolved round it into the ground for it. 

Both chefs are shamefully selfish this Sunday morning.

They make savory crepes and drink coffee with Good Eats playing in the background.

They shower together about it. 

Carmy drops her off at the farmers market.

Carmy cleans the Beef alone with a toothbrush as one of Mikey’s old mixed CD’s plays on the old Beef stereo. 

Sydney tosses her laundry in the washing machine as her dad plays Charles Jenkins & Fellowship aloud and remarks that he missed her at service again. 

Carmy shows up 8 minutes late to dinner at Sugar's with the wine his big sister likes. 

Sydney fries fish and makes smothered green beans for dinner, her father sets the table for them to play cards and watch Down in the Delta. 

Both chefs pray that this stays their routine. 

Taglist 🥰

@blowmymbackout @kdoxkeic @pantherxrogers @soufcakmistress

#the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmy x sydney #sydney x carmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #Chefs kiss #the bear fanfiction #smut #black girl reader #sad fluff #sneaky link